Marcy’s Appliances

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Hey all, Marcy again. You know, “The Squirter.” Hah, one of the few, the proud…. the squirters! Well, I just recently experienced, “the greatest sex event of my entire life,” (thus far) – and I finally found time to hack it out on this here beige beast…. the Dell from hell, the not so bored at the keyboard, hunt and pecker’s, delight of delights…. my lap-top!

Of course you wouldn’t know it but Paul (he’s my husband, my babe) and I have cum (oh, excuse me) – come – a long way in our relationship. At least from my view point anyway. We just celebrated our 5th anniversary. Hurray! Yep, it’s hard to believe but we’re as happy as ever, even thinking of having children! Heavens forbid! My titties hurt just thinking about it.

But hey, let’s not talk kids here – this is about my, or I should say “our,” anniversary present. Some time ago Paul and I’d been talking, as we usually do, about what else? Sex! (That’s with a capitol “S” and that rhymes with next and that’s what I want and lot’s of it – next guy in line…please! Next partner, next sexual experience…. Please, fill me up!) So anyway, (I got carried away there) – we were thinking, we’re very creative you know – we were thinking about “torture.” No, not unpleasant torture, not the pain that is associated with most torture – but “pleasant torture,” – fun torture, erotic torture…. yes you got it, “sexual torture.” Yeah, “that’s it,” (Bing!) we thought together, sexual torture! Sexual saturation! We wondered, hmmm? Is this even possible? Would… could a person go insane? Where and how could this be achieved or tested? Just like tickling someone until they actually hurt, could sexual torture have a negative effect? We weren’t sure. For days we went wild thinking about this concept and discussing it. Devious minds do think alike.

Well, after a while we both came up with the same idea at once.

I would be the guinea pig. (Of course!) Sexual torture/saturation – for me and…. excruciating pleasure for Paul too, in that he would be observing and directing this event. But how? How to set it up? How to implement it? Who would the torturers be? How would we bring this “special sexual event” off – so I could be “taken unawares?” In other words, how could we do this so I could partake in the reality of the situation, in an entirely spontaneous way, in order to prevent this particular sexual episode from eroding into some kind of a pre-planned thing, a non-event, or a non-test? Did you all follow that? I hope so. I tell you, at the thought of this whole thing, my stomach flipped, my toes curled, my chest got hot and I just about frigging died. We finally decided, that I was only to know…. that “this would” take place…. sometime in the near future. But I wouldn’t know anything about the details. I’d be clueless as to when, where and how.

I should explain here that I – and Paul too – are not and have never been into S&M. And “that’s not,” what we were going for here. No real pain, at least not serious pain. Not for us. Sexual pleasure was to be the key – and… it was to be unlimited, never ending, sexual pleasure – yes, it would be under restraint for sure, that in order to provide for total submission…. this was our goal. Sexual pleasure – sexual torture. If you could even call it that. Oh hell, I don’t know what to call it. But we were going for it. And I was looking forward to it.

Well, I knew this much – we…. or I should say Paul, didn’t really have a clue as to how to make all this happen. Until –

Paul, ever the industrious one – rented a video, a Dutch Bondage tape – down in the Village on Bleeker street. This video was produced by a club (yeah, a club that’s a business too) it’s located right in the Hague, in the infamous red-light district. This particular bondage club had a full video advertisement included on the tape. It showed photos of all the torture rooms and wild, sexy play things. And…. it also included the address and phone number of the club. So, “let your fingers do the walking,” right? Paul called for general info and in particular, info on any possible contacts back here in the states. As you might imagine, there was a bit of a language problem but the folks at the club spoke fairly good English and adequate communications were quickly established. They were a bit reluctant to give us any names of folks here in the states, you know, tricky situation. Then Paul mentioned fees – and things changed a bit. The communications really flowed then. Money talks. Paul went into the den for some privacy. Remember, the plan was for me to “not know,” the details. Ah well…. ignorance is bliss and in this unique case, it was supposed be extremely blissful.

So, I was on pins and needles when, an entire hour later, Paul emerged from the den, a huge grin on his face, a bulge in his pants (and a whopping phone bill no doubt) as he proclaimed, “baby, all you need to know is that everything’s set.” Wow! I got horny immediately illegal bahis and tried my own form of torture – on him…. trying to get Paul to tell me some of the details. He wouldn’t of course but I did eventually take care of his bulge. And with that – our lives went on. Business as usual.

Weeks went by –

It was a Thursday evening. Paul was working late and told me not to expect him until after 10pm. I worked sort of late, until 6 or so. I grabbed the subway up the East Side and headed for Citterella, a most fabulous, and a bit exclusive grocery store on 3rd Avenue. I picked up some fresh veggies and an odorless piece of flounder and headed for our apartment over on 2nd. I checked the mail. I rode up the elevator – 31st floor. I left the elevator, heading down the south corridor to our apartment. And that’s when things went black – or maybe I should say blank. I tell you – I don’t remember a thing. All I know now is that I remember everything up to that very point, walking toward our apartment door – and also that – I evidently, never had any dinner. So much for my nice hunk of flounder.

The next thing I remember – was strange. The only thing I can explain here is that I was obviously groggy. I was coming out, and going back into of an unconscious state of mind. In and out. Floating. Not at all unpleasant, just buzzy, feeling good, feeling loose and very, very relaxed. The strange thing though was the darkness. Not pitch black, but very dark, almost completely black but slightly gray. I knew I was blinking my eyes, I could feel that – and that they were open for instance, but I didn’t know if I was focussing on anything. Hell, there was nothing to focus on. It was dark all around. It’s then I began to realize what this was – not some sort of a groggy dream – but my sexual saturation. Torture. It was about to begin. I’d like to tell you that a thrill of anticipation bolted through my body and blasted my groin to utter sexual wetness – but no – I was way too out of it for that – yet.

As I gained some sort of control of my senses, I attempted to move my body. I was definitely on my back, resting on something soft yet firm. I could move a bit here and there – my fingers, my wrists, my ankles and I could turn my head from side to side. I could even lift my nice, near perfect ass off “the soft thing,” – a bed (?) I guessed – that I was laying face up on, but my movement was restricted – a lot.

I figured out that I was anchored, tied, bound, whatever – at my elbows and wrists, my thighs, my ankles and my neck. And I could only move my head from side to side a little bit. Then I noticed that I had a tube in my mouth – a breathing tube of sorts – a snorkel is what I thought of first. Even though I was breathing through my nostrils, I had this pacifier-like “thing,” in my mouth – but I could breath easily and it was relatively comfortable. I did get a little scared when I realized that I really couldn’t talk – and therefore couldn’t scream. Hmmm? What the hell was I in for?

Up until this point I’d been so pleasantly out of it that I really hadn’t fully realized that I’d been drugged. It just didn’t occur to me. Then, I figure as I gained higher levels of consciousness, it hit me – hey, I’ve been drugged! At that point, even though still reeling within my head, I began to strive for control, to strive for consciousness. That’s when the first – I don’t know what to call it – the first blast, the first flash of stimuli hit me. Well I should say I saw it – oh, and I heard it too. But only for an instant. What the fuck was it!?! Well, above me, somehow – floating up there, was the image of a woman and a bunch of men, all beautifully naked and having wild sex. It happened so fast that I wasn’t even sure I saw anything – I blinked my eyes. And like I said I thought I heard it too. That’s when I realized that I had headphones on. I guess they were pretty comfortable because in my drugged state I hadn’t noticed them before. Then – again! Only for a few milliseconds or so – the flash, the picture of the single woman and the many men, having sex – groans of pleasure in my ears. The audible part, the noises of group sex, seemed to linger in my ears longer than the image hovered above in my sight. The sounds would eventually die down until I heard nothing and was left in near total darkness, and silence once again. This repeated itself for I don’t know how long. Like I’ve indicated, I was still a bit buzzed. But the beginnings of sexual feelings began to build within me. I wasn’t hurting let me tell you.

Oh yeah – smell! I could smell. Incense(?) or something much like it.

And with that aromatic excuse, I’ll take this opportunity to tell you something I didn’t know at the time. Something I could’nt’ve known, until Paul told me – the next day following this wild experience of a lifetime. Remember, I’d figured I was drugged – well here’s the cocktail – the sex cocktail that is. I learned that illegal bahis siteleri I had initially been rendered unconscious with Phenobarbital, just enough to make me pass out and stay out cold for as long as it took for them (but who?) to strip me and rig me up like they did. That explained the memory loss – hell what memory(?) – I was out cold. While I was out I was IV’d. A local anesthetic was applied to my left arm, the entrance of the IV, so I wouldn’t feel the least bit of pain in that area. Heck, in my immobile position I could not’ve even known that I had a catheter in my arm. In the IV solution was a mixture composed of glucose primarily but powdered and mixed in with it – were six 25 milligram tabs of Viagra (hey, Paul says it works on women too and after this I believe him), one Valium, two tabs of Ecstasy (the euphoric street drug X) and two full ounces (Paul assures me of this) of my favorite Tequila, Heradura Gold. The IV was rigged to drip into my bloodstream very slowly. Also a cream, a hand made sex cream consisting of Sex-glide gel, ground up Viagra, a little cocaine and some kind of hot sex gel had been dabbed upon my clit and nipples. And that smell? The incense? The reason for this lengthy explanation? It was incense alright – but – burning alongside it was a two ounce chunk of Nepalese dark brown hashish. I tell ya – Paul (or whoever helped him plan this thing) went all out.

So guess what? By this time, my guess would be (but I really hadn’t a clue) fifteen minutes or so since I first blinked/blanked to some sort of groggy state of coherent consciousness, I was beginning to feel very, very – ultra very – relaxed, tingly and exclusively horny. Don’t forget I kept getting those audio/video porno flashes every now and then. And they seemed to be getting longer in duration. No, they didn’t seem to be, they were getting longer in duration. They were definitely images of a woman, a very beautiful white woman, in some kind of total sexual abandon, cavorting in every orifice she had, with at least six men – gorgeous hunks of men – of varied colors, shapes and sizes. All moving and moaning and cumming and fucking. The images made me think of our relatively recent adventure, this past spring, the orgy Paul and I had at the swingers club in Florida. I was flashing back to it in a pleasant way, feeling good, feeling hornier and hornier, not even thinking about this “new deal,” this sexual torture thing, that I was only guessing, I was going through right now – when I felt the touch of a human. Yipes!!! The lips of a human!!! A person!!! A person I couldn’t see. A person I couldn’t smell. A person who’s sex, male or female was indeterminable. A person who was kissing and licking my feet of all things – god(!) and I was fucking reeling.

I tried to turn my head in order to see my assailant. But was I really being assailed? Maybe I should consider this person to be my lover. Maybe it was Paul. No I decided, it couldn’t be Paul, it didn’t feel like him. This person was soft, softer than Paul. I thought that it must be a woman. And as the lips kissing me moved over my left leg and began to provide the same stimulation on my right leg, I decided that this person, or at this point I was hoping, “these persons,” – were my fuckers, my pleasure providers, my slaves. Yes, they were my slaves.

That may seem funny to most of you. Here I was tied up, unable to move. I was gagged and could not talk, question or scream. I was drugged and blissfully, sexually, delirious. I was being stimulated by electronic pornographic images and now I was being stimulated via physical means by a completely unknown person or persons – and I felt in control. Yes, they were my slaves, my sex slaves, doing my sexual bidding. That’s right. That’s just how I felt. Why? Because “I had asked for this,” first of all – and secondly, I was getting hornier than fucking hell. And thirdly I knew this was Paul’s doing. I felt safe and secure. And if my slaves didn’t do their best and get me off like I so desired and desperately needed – well, I’d have been pissed.

But this was only the beginning.

So, let’s re-establish this picture – once and for all. There I was, all of my 26 years, 5’6″ super tight bodied womanly frame, light haired, Irish Spring looking, beautiful self. Nude and rigged up on some kind of a bed, on my back, nearly completely bound, with my legs up in the air and spread-eagled in some sort of stirrups. My beautiful ass wasn’t flat on the bed either, it had some sort of soft pillow under it, lifting it, so I was kind of on an angle – ass up, head back and down. My arms were bound, out to my sides and my head was more or less locked, preventing it from moving too far, side to side. I had some sort of gag in my mouth preventing me from loud verbal excursions. The room was almost black-dark except for the flickering of the hovering porno images. Someone, or “something,” was licking my feet, my toes, my calves canlı bahis siteleri and climbing higher toward my thighs. And, I was flying like a kite on wild drugs of some kind. I knew what was happening but I knew no real details. And I really felt fucking good – really fucking good.

No, I didn’t know where I was but – I was thrilled, relaxed, comfortable and feeling no pain – above all else I was super horny and getting hornier. I was not afraid…… The mouth, the tongue – moved further up my leg.

Very soon, with my mind spinning sexual images from every part of my brain, I noticed that the porno movie and accompanying sound was continually on, it bathed me in the blue light of a TV tube – it didn’t flicker subliminal messages any longer – it hammered them home. I watched in amazement as the beautiful young woman sucked on two massive cocks at once, this while she sat up and down hard on a third big dick. Men around her were standing, stroking their fat hard-ons and waiting their turn. As I watched I so wanted to be her, be in her place. And again I felt the faceless mouth moving wetly up my leg – it felt wonderful. Then, I felt another presence – a hand. It stroked my arm. I tried to turn my head to see if I could tell who or what it might come from – but I could see nothing – I just felt the warm touch of gentle fingers on my upper left arm. Then another, on my right side, another hand. I turned my head as far to the right as I could but nothing – I saw only darkness. Then down there, at my thighs, nearer my pussy (which I’m sure was soaking by now) I felt even more hands, kneading my thighs, massaging my legs. I wasn’t so far gone that I couldn’t figure out that I now had six hands massaging my aching, sex mad body in various places. And that mouth too. Whoops – another mouth! Sucking the fingers of my left hand. Then more hands! “Oh my god!” I muttered. I was beginning to loose track. I was getting a foot massage – and a scalp massage too. Now, hands everywhere – on my bare breasts, brushing my slick pussy lips, fingers on my lips (I sucked them in my mouth), hands under my ass, hands massaging my thighs and stomach. Hands and mouths everywhere! I was loosing track.

Yes, I could now see these alien hands and arms as the came into my limited line of sight. Some were those of men, some were those of women. But when I tried to look up, beyond the arms, to see who they might be attached to – I still saw only shadows in the dark. I then felt the unmistakable feel of a penis brush into my right hand, and then one in my left hand – I eagerly stroked them. They felt wonderful. Then multiple fingers entered my vagina. How many I could not tell. As I had assumed, they slipped into me easily, my lubrication flowed. All the while I watched the beautiful woman on the TV screen fucking and sucking wildly – making one man cum to orgasm after another – leaving her shining with slick jism. Her ample breasts dripped cum, strands strung from her large brown nipples. My heart pounded and my own breath heaved – I was loosing it, I was beginning to surrender, I was beginning to cum. I knew I was moaning, and loudly too but the device in my mouth muted me, it muffled my cries into nothingness. I’m sure they were audible to those whose hands stroked my body but not to anyone else outside a distance of a few feet. But at this point I really didn’t care. I wanted to cum. I wanted to cum big time. And I didn’t give a fuck about being gagged or not. I began to feel pressure within my vagina – and if felt extraordinarily good. I tried with all my might to cock my head downward – to try and see what was happening down there. I successfully did this and what I was amazed me – an entire hand, a male hand, all four fingers and a thumb were invading my love hole. The pressure, the pleasure was so intense I thought I might explode in an infinite orgasm. It was painful to look down like this but I was mesmerized. Slowly the hand worked its way further into me. I rocked my head back and forth, left to right, up to watch the video in which I was so enthralled and then down again to see the hand sinking deeper into my wet pussy – slick with my own fluids. I then uncontrollably began to buck. Just a little at first and then compulsively faster. The explosion of my tortured sex was beginning to rack me. Tingles, millions of tingles started to wave throughout my body. My hardened nipples ached with pleasure. The center of my chest burned with pleasure. My thighs, my anus – up to my lips, my neck – hell even my toes readied for the ultimate sexual explosion. But nothing concentrated my sexual thoughts and my physical feelings – like my blood gorged pussy. It was absolutely freaking out. I bucked and bucked. My legs flailing wildly and my ass humping up into the hand rammed into my cunt. I was cumming and throwing love juice everywhere. I watched as the hand that was fucking me became bathed in my fuck juice – slick and glistening – plunging in and out of me. I came and I came and I came. Even though restrained my ass was lifting a good foot off the table or bed – whatever the fuck I was laying on. My stifled groans only echoing within my own head. I could not seem to stop. I didn’t want to stop.

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