Page 8 of Enthrall Ecstasy
And mine.
A stranger who I hoped would be kind and gentle and generous.
I suddenly felt lightheaded with anticipation. The thought of what lay ahead caused the fine hairs on my forearms to prickle. Glancing over at the other subs, I could see they were just as entranced. They, too, seemed to be guessing who would win them.
One of the subs, a blonde, was so aroused her thighs were wet and her breathing rapid. Her breasts rose and fell as Master Faulkner, who stood behind her, tweaked her rosy nipples, seemingly placing her into a delicious trance.
Faulkner left her and came to stand behind me.
If he does the same to me…
In front of all these men.
His body pressed against my back, his hands reaching around to rest on my hips.
Then, his fingers found my labia and eased my folds apart. “Like this,” he commanded.
A jolt of panic mixed with exhilarating arousal shot through my body.
He was exposing me completely.
Following his lead, I glanced down and replaced his fingers with mine, easing apart my folds to reveal my clit, showing myself entirely.
Blinking rapidly, I felt relieved to have my face hidden behind a filigree mask. His fingertips controlled mine, holding my pussy lips wider. The way he’d trained us. It was a pose that would please our audience.
It would arouse these men and woman; our privileged audience observing with a respectful silence.
More of them turned their attention on me, admiring what I willingly revealed—my very essence.
I inhaled sharply in anticipation, my face flushed. This felt raw and vulnerable and deliciously filthy—the sensations building into something so erotic I was afraid I might come from this pose alone.
I felt so turned on that I knew it would start to show; my body revealing its response in minutes.
“They’re staring at your cunt,” Faulkner said, confirming what I knew.
The thrum down there became more intense, even though there was no direct contact with my clit. My breasts swelled and pushed against the confines of my bodice, the pressure against my beading nipples a distraction.
All of us were ordered to assume the same pose, which made me feel better. I wasn’t alone in being slutty.
“Very good,” said Faulkner.
Lulled by these overwhelming sensations, my pussy clenched with anticipation.
This, the center of the forbidden.
I raised my chin higher to savor how daring this felt. How high it made me feel—to show everyone that I’d chosen this moment to feel alive.
Eroticism was my drug of choice. I was desperate to chase the multiple orgasms my body craved night after night—an insatiable desire so powerful that as soon as I reached the ultimate pinnacle, I needed it again. My nymphomania was both a curse and a blessing.
Glancing right, I saw that Faulkner was strumming Taylor’s clit, the tip of his finger flicking her fast. Her jaw was slack and her moans filled the vast space.
If getting her off was to make the rest of us feel desperate with need, he’d succeeded. A jealousy surged through me like wildfire.
She wailed her orgasm.
I burned to come as hard as she had.
When Faulkner finally seemed content with this exotic display, he gave a signal for the event to begin.
