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  1. The Balcony

    October 17, 2013 by Heather Cole

    We were waiting.

    Sir and I stood on the second floor balcony of the barn and waited for the doors to open to permit us inside. It was full dark, and I could see the flames of the campfire flickering below us. There was a crowd around me, black silhouettes against an indigo background. Shadows moved over the faces of people I knew and some that I only recognized by sight. Sir wrapped his arms around me, and I sank into his embrace, listening to the various conversations floating through the dark.

    I should have known he wouldn’t keep his hands still for long. In the deep gloom of the barn, his fingers found my clit through the thin fabric of my pants. I squirmed in a half-hearted attempt to move away, but his other arm wrapped around my chest to hold me still. My back was towards him as he brought me closer and closer to orgasm. And since we had a rule that I must announce my orgasms, everyone I faced was going to hear me.

    I leaned my head back against his shoulder and stared up at the night sky. I could hear the crackle of the fire as a backdrop to the voices around me. My body was bruised and tired from the Slave Hunt, but the growing pressure of the orgasm felt delicious. I was about to burst into a hundred tiny orgasmic pieces when Kuma pinched me. It was completely unexpected. One minute I was marveling at the beauty of the universe and the next I was on my tiptoes trying to escape the fingers gripping the sensitive skin beneath my jaw. My only response was to whimper.

    A moment later there were different hands on me. By this time the balcony was more crowded, and although the faces were friendly, I didn’t know whose hands were doing what. Sir’s arm remained around my shoulders, a reassuring pressure, as hands pinched and caressed me. They moved over my hips and squeezed the meat of my ass. Their conversations continued past me as if they were completely independent of physical bodies. I was breathless from the contact, overwhelmed by the sensation of fingers, hands and bodies moving against me. My body seesawed between extremes. Did I want to come or cry? I rode the waves of both, waiting to see if I would crash on either side.

    “It’s like bringing a pretty toy to the party,” sir whispered in my ear. “I like that my friends want to play with my toy too.”

    I shivered as his words slid over me, delighting in the role he had bestowed. I was safe and loved like a treasured pet, a plaything to be stroked and teased. Sir silently offered me to our friends as a toy for the moment, and as their hands swept over me with greedy caresses, I felt desired and worshiped. The darkness became a blanket of intimacy, wrapping us closely together granting a degree of anonymity. It was thrilling, a rush of desire and lust and pain. And like every compelling ride, sir was there to catch me when it was finished. Eventually they dispersed like scattered stars returning to their individual orbits, and it was only sir and I under the night sky. Waiting.

    ***

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