Buying the Virgin

Chapter 12: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Twelve

A loudly ‘whispered’ voice drifts over the room. “She’s soaked. Look!” Followed by several “Shhhh”s.

The red silk panties must be showing every mark and hint of moisture. I picture myself, blind behind the silk binding my eyes, spread for inspection to my audience, bare-breasted, sweat trickling between my flushed breasts, and my wetness showing dark against the scarlet silk of my knickers. When the panties go, I will have only my stockings and the necklace.

Breathing harder all the time, my excitement mounting, I feel my pulse beating hard, its tempo against the leather restraints of the cuffs.

Something in the air movements around me tells me that the body close to me is standing back a little - displaying me. There is no sense of close-by, physical, heat, no scent of after-shave or male sweat.

Nonetheless, fingers are rubbing at my crotch, over the panties, pressing into my curls beneath and exploring down and in. It is exhilarating, electrifying, and I moan loudly, my hips leaning into the probing fingers.

The fingers slide inside the panties, between my hot and sensitive folds, when a voice again calls, “Time.”

I cannot help myself, and I groan with disappointment as the fingers withdraw and footsteps retreat from me. My hips are beginning to buck and tremble of their own accord, warm juices dribbling down inside my thighs.

The game resumes: again the smack of cards on a surface; the rattle of counters.

“Deal.”

Slap.

“Deal.”

Slap

“Deal.”

Slap. “Damn.”

“Deal.”

Slap.

“Deal.”

“Twenty-one!”

fucked this time? Will someone finger my clit? Suck

pushed back and footsteps (How many? How many are there?), and then a sense of warm breath on my

soft chuckle of satisfaction, and the mouth continues down

wanting to beg for more, but

and inwards, stroking forwards to my bud. A second finger enters from the other side of my panties, pushing back the hood, exposing my

between my lips, and over my clit. Any trace of self-control vanishes and I scream, writhing in my bonds, as electric

up inside me, two, three, stretching me wide, thrusting, first gently, then

over. “I think the lady is ready for a little more attention, don’t you think gentlemen? I would say she needs a good fucking to ease the strain. Probably several good fuckings. What do

murmur of agreement and voices

“Let’s get her down.”

“She’s itching for it.”

I want my brains fucked out. I want to suck cock and swallow cum. I want every man here to get his cock inside me

God! What am

I want

released. Then my raised arms are released and lowered. The handcuffs remain though.

at my blindfold, but a voice says, “No, leave that for now. She’s enjoying

This faceless, anonymous, sexual tension

me forward. More

pants off

saturated and useless panties are tugged away, leaving my urgently pulsing pussy to flow freely

“Bend her over.”

“No, on her back.”

her what she

choice now. We’ve got all evening. Everyone will get a turn. Bend her over.” It is my Master’s voice. And I am pushed down over some object, soft but

back, and feet shove my ankles apart, spreading me. There is

the fucking of a

*****

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