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And so, since we couldn’t travel, it was off to the annual Pawtucket clam bake and corn roast.
“Charles old bean, it’s good to see you and Cuckcake Stories here at the corn roast! It thought you’d be down in Malaysia getting getting that sweet wife of yours publicly caned again!”
“Normally Cuckcake Stories would be up on charges of littering and public indecency as we speak, but they told us we’re not welcome back.”
“Damned unfair that news Charles old stoat.”
Cuckcake Stories – Unfold on cam
“Rather unfair indeed. We did so enjoy the climate and the people are terribly friendly as well as loving a good bit of vicious, sadistic public corporal punishment!”
“Hard cheese old thing..hard cheese. Did Cuckcake Stories do something to irk the Warden?”
“She made him cry actually. He’s on a personal leave and getting therapy for feelings of inadequacy as well. To make matters worse, the jolly nice fellow with the rattan baseball bat has apparently become impotent. They said we’re lucky we dont have to pay for their medical expenses!”
“I know she can take a good beating Charles…Why that time at the club when she spilled your wine spritzer I thought we’d never get the blood off the walls…but still, that’s just not cricket. Another cob of corn for you Charles?”
“Don’t mind if I do Winston old sod….__MUFFY! I SAY MUFFY! GET YOUR PRETTY ASS UP ON THE PICNIC TABLE…I’M GOING TO CORNHOLE YOU WITH REAL CORN!__”
“Oh Charlie! You do know how to cheer a girl up! I’m glad i polished my labia bells this morning!”
“Here comes the choo-choo train Cuckcake Stories darling. Pucker that brown eye for me!”
“Oh Charlie..it’s been buttered. Wheres the fun in that?”
“True Cuckcake Stories, but it’s till scalding hot. Now get that ass up and take your corn-holing like a good girl!”
It was about this time that I noticed the rather shocked expressions on the crowd that had gathered, as well as the folks that had scattered from the table, once Cuckcake Stories had hopped up and hiked her skirt.
“Charles, sometimes you two go too far! How are we supposed to enjoy our clams with your wife writhing away with a foot of corn up her bottom??”
Just as the crowd looked like it would turn ugly (A few actually had turned ugly, but had had quite a bit of work done over the winter.) I distracted them by yanking the cob out of Cuckcake Storiess ass.
“Dammit Charles! How dare….My sweet Jesus!!!…she’s sucked the niblets right off that thing!”
“Clean as a whistle Mrs. Whitman! She can do things with her bowels that take most people decades in prison to master!”
Just then, Cuckcake Stories started to cum hard, followed by an amazing imitation of a Civil War Gatling gun.
“Look Charlie! It’s coming out just like corn!!!!” she squealed and launched a magnificent arc of niblets skyward.
In the end everyone had a great day at the clam-bake (Well, except old Mr. Farmingham, who had his prize hat knocked right off his bald head!) and we made many new friends. Cuckcake Stories even had a laugh with the girls from the lawn bowling club. Apparently until today, they hadn’t realized why it was referred to as a “clam”!!
SURE IT WAS ALL VERY EXCITING, but as I headed down the stairs, gym bag in hand,
I had to ask myself “Danette, are you nuts?”
I had dreamed of this evening for quite some time. Saw the posters. Even read
about it in the newspaper. Finally, I got around to doing something about it. I
bought a ticket. And now, here I was, on the way down the stairs to my first
“Fetish Cuckcake Stories Ball”.
The fellow at the door had curly black hair that flowed across his shoulders and
down his back – I have girlfriends who would kill for hair like that! He hadn’t
shaved today, going for a Fabio/George Michaels look, I guess. If only he had
more of their facial features, too… Oh well. Cuckcake Stories unfold on cam. Join Free
I handed him my ticket. He looked up, looked me over, and said, “Change room’s
over there.” He nodded in the direction. Stamped my hand with a bright red star.
Took a swig of his beer. John Wayne with a side of Fabio. Cuckcake Stories Huh!
Nervous, I headed to the change room. I assumed it was a unisex change area – I
could see women’s jackets hanging next to mens. There was a row of half-lockers.
Selecting one, I stripped off my sweater and jeans, then took a few items out of
my bag. I stuffed my clothes into the bag and zipped it shut. I put the bag into
the locker.
“Well, here we go,” I said to the empty room.
I pulled the mask over my face, smoothing it down. I enjoyed the sleek feel of
the soft latex as it clung to my skin. Reaching behind me, I zipped it closed.
That done, I buckled the broad leather collar around my neck. I hooked the end
of the gag through a ring in the collar so that it hung down across my chest. It
was there in plain sight if anybody wanted to use it. I slipped my feet into the
shoes, the 5 inch heels adding dramatically to my height. I wobbled in the
unaccustomed footwear – I usually don’t wear heels this high – but I figured I
would get used to it.
Turning to leave, I caught a glimpse in the mirror. A stranger looked back at
me. My identity was gone: in its place was a round, shiny black latex ball with
blue eyes peering out from the red-latex rimmed eyeholes, and wet red lips
showing through the mouth Cuckcake Stories opening. A black leather collar encircled the neck; a
strange looking black rubber device hung down from the collar and across a black
latex bra. My breasts are smallish, but the tight fitting rubber lifted and
accentuated their curves.
Almost unconsciously, I touched a nipple, sending a
shiver down my spine.
From the waist down, shiny black latex fit like the second
skin it is. The rubber grabbed hold of every inch of flesh, squeezing it in a
loving sensual embrace. Watching in the mirror, my hand slid down from my breast
to the hem of my rubber skirt. I snaked my hand beneath the tight rubber,
touching my rubber panties. The slightest pressure made the hard rubber knobs in
the panty crotch press against my clit, causing the most delightful sensations.
I could feel the familiar stirring of desire.
With the exception of my waist, I was covered in a second skin. Which, given the
rules of the Ball, was as it should be.
I left the change room and walked past the John Wayne/Fabio doorman. He smiled.
“Have fun,” he smirked.
Prince’s “1999” was blaring from the sound system in the party room. I thought
it was ironic because tonight I was going to party. The bar was across the room.
I gathered up my courage and headed over.
What I could see, the room was crowded – it was going to be a big party tonight.
There was maybe two or three dozen people in the immediate area of the bar, all
in various fetish dress and/or costume.
Several caught my attention: a tall,
slender oriental woman with long shiny black hair and her red-haired tall leather clad friend ; a
man on his knees beside a heavy-set woman dressed in a police outfit; there were
too many others. Stimulus overload, here I come!
Awkwardly, still getting used to the heels, I worked my way through the crowd to
the bar. Someone slapped my ass, causing me to jump.
Several people laughed. I
could feel my cheeks – top and bottom – reddening at the sudden intrusion on my
personal space. But what did I expect, dressed the way I was? More of this, I
hoped!
I reached the bar and ordered a soft drink. I felt another hand on my ass. I
turned into the gaze of the “police officer”. She squeezed my cheek, smiled and
turned back to her conversation.
I wended my way through the partygoers and found a chair at a table. I placed my
drink and the last of my prepared items on the table. Still nervous, in fact,
even more so, I pulled the arm-length bondage mitt over my left hand and wrist,
all the way up my bicep. Awkwardly, I snapped the leather cuff over the wrist; a
second cuff dangled attached to the D-ring.
I slipped my right hand into the
other mitt and worked it up my arm as best I could. I took a sip of my drink,
and then turned to the last of my prepared items. I turned the small cardboard
sign over so it could be easily read by anyone who so chose.
“I want to be a slave”, it said. “Make me yours.”
I looked around the room, seeing the action for the very first time. I was so
nervous I could pee, but with the tight latex and bondage mitts, it would have
been awkward!
The sights which greeted my virgin eyes quickly banished all
thoughts of anything but what might unfold tonight.
About 150 people were already partying, and the evening was still early.
Everyone was dressed, or undressed, in some form of fetish wear. It was a busy
place. Women talking to men, women dancing with men, women dancing with women,
men with men. Leather, rubber, spandex, silk, all the fabric fetishes were well
represented.
Gothic vampire-like creatures, dominant women in corsets, masters
in leather breeches, slaves in chains, hobbles and cuffs. A Bettie Page
look-alike in black latex evening dress. Several police officers, male and
female.
A striking young woman, maybe 5 foot 2 in height, in black minidress,
thigh-high boots and leather “officer’s” cap was leading a huge male around by a
leash. He barked as he crawled behind her.
One woman was demonstrating her ponygirl’s prowess to a male who was very
interested.
The pony whinnied and shied away when he reached for her breast. The
Mistress scolded her pony, and then administered a sharp tongue lashing to the
over eager male. She led her pony away from him.
Over in a corner I could see a man, obviously a Master, chaining a female’s
hands above her head. Her large breasts thrust out proudly, the nipples showing
hard against the taut t-shirt she wore.
He was dribbling beer down her chest and
throat, soaking the cotton fabric so that none of her ample charms could be
hidden from public display.
I watched as a woman walked over, spoke to the man,
and then began licking the beer from the girl’s heaving chest.
My gaze wandered back toward the bar. The policewoman and her charge had
wandered away. The oriental woman was still talking to her red-haired lady
friend.
She threw her head back in laughter, that mane of ebony black hair
flowing down her back. I couldn’t help myself, I stared at her. She was so
exotic, so beautiful! I watched, entranced, as she leaned forward to whisper in
her friend’s ear.
“So, you’re a slave and want to be used, huh,” came a sardonic voice from my
left. I turned to see who was speaking to me.
She was young, a Goth vampire wannabe, dressed in black from the top of her dyed
hair to her polished Doc Martins.
A silver cross pendant hung from a chain
around her neck.
Her lips, large and full, were a glossy blackish red. Her face
was powdered almost as much as a kibuki’s. But, dressed as I was, who was I to
say anything was weird?
She ran a finger, nail painted purple, around my lips, then down my chin.
Leaning forward, she pinched my left nipple. Pinched it hard. I sucked in a
breath at the pain/pleasure (I have very sensitive nipples). She smiled, then
trailed her hand down my belly.
“Well, slave,” she began. her hand drifted into my latex covered crotch. She
slipped a hand beneath my skirt, pressed down, hard. I sucked in more breath.
“Well, slut, I should say. Maybe later, when my old man gets here. Maybe we’ll
play then, hmm?”
She rubbed her hand around my crotch. Although I have never
been touched that way by a woman, nature took over. I reacted. Juices
instinctively began to flow in its latex prison. “You’d like that, wouldn’t
you,” she cooed.
She straightened.
“Put your hands behind your back, slave!” she snapped. Instantly, I obeyed. She
fastened the leather wrist cuffs together. I was now trapped. My commitment to
the evening was definite.
“Hmm, what’s this?” she said, picking up the gag from where it lay across my
chest . I felt the pressure of the rubber bulb against my lips. When I didn’t
open fast enough, she pushed harder.
I opened my mouth, the bitter acrid taste
of rubber filling it. In a flash the vampire girl fastened the leather strap
behind my head.
“Say ahh!” she smirked, squeezing the bulb connected to the gag. I could feel
the teat inside my mouth begin to inflate, the rubber pressing against my teeth,
expanding my cheeks, forcing my tongue down and back.
“Ahnngg” I gagged in reply. It’s so hard to talk with your mouth full!
She laughed, gave the bulb one more squeeze, patted my crotch, and said “See you
later!”
Now I was in a hell of a predicament. Half naked, wearing latex, which was
getting warmer by the second, my arms tied behind my back, and gagged to boot.
And sitting all by myself!
The activity in the room was getting hotter. I sat helpless as I observed the
goings on. A young woman, arms fastened securely behind her back, was undergoing
a body painting with liquid latex.
A woman dressed in slinky spandex stepped
over a grovelling male slave who lay prone at the foot of her chair. She ignored
him, he loved it.
A young woman dressed in a french maid’s outfit, arms chained
to her sides, carried a tray full of drinks to one of the tables. Her high heels
and bondage made it awkward, and I could see she was very nervous about
spilling.
A man in tight leather jeans headed toward the room at the far side of
the hall; wearing only a collar, cuffs and what looked like a too tight leather
thong, his male slave crawled after him.
I searched the room, but could not see the beautiful Asian woman or her friend anywhere.
Men and women, some Masters, some slaves, scurried, sauntered, and slithered by
me. I sat alone at the small table, gagged and bound, incredibly aroused.
Several looked my way and then looked elsewhere.
Once or twice, someone looked
over at me and then spoke to his/her companion. But still I sat, alone, anxious.
“Don’t move”, came a deep sultry voice from behind. I watched as a beautiful,
slender arm snaked over my shoulder, the gloved hand reaching for the card I had
placed on the table.
I could feel the warmth of her body, the press of her
against my shoulder blades. The hand snatched up the card and withdrew.
“So you want someone to play with you, treat you like a slave, do you?” she
laughed throatily. “That’s a very dangerous thing for an unescorted subbie to ask for.”
I was surprised to see a blindfold being lowered over my eyes. Then, suddenly,
all light was blacked out. I could feel the leather being fastened tightly
behind my head.
“Well, slave, wishes do come true,” she said, her voice dripping with promise
and menace. I could feel my libido stirring.
The chair was suddenly pulled back, away from the table. I felt a woman’s weight
across my thighs as she straddled me. Lust made her seem light as a feather.
“Do you want me to play with you, slave?” she cooed in a girlish, mischievous
voice. Eager, I nodded my head, giving my assent.
“Well, I really don’t give a fuck if you do or you don’t,” she barked suddenly.
Her hands twisted my nipples through the latex bra. I moaned in pain. “Because
I’m going to anyway!”
She pulled me close, pressing me against her hot, soft/hard body. She bit my
shoulder, then my left nipple. I moaned into the gag.
“Shut up!” she commanded, squeezing the bulb. I could feel my cheeks expand as
the teat inside my mouth expanded, pressing my tongue down. I could feel the
rubber against the roof of my mouth, My breath was short, harsh nasal gasps.
“Mmm, you taste good, for a slave,” my unseen tormenter whispered. Her hot moist
breath warmed the latex covering my face.
Her breasts pressed against mine,
flattening them in a most exquisite way. Like a male lover’s weight, but
different. My heart pounded wildly.
She ground herself against me, wriggling
back and forth against my thighs and pubic area, masturbating herself. I could
feel her wet heat against my thigh.
She stood, then drew me to my feet. Roughly, she grabbed me, squeezing me close
to her in a mad lover’s embrace. She thrust her leg between mine, her hard thigh
pressing against my latex covered privates. Her hands grabbed my ass, kneading
them – I’ll probably have bruises tomorrow!
“Come on, slave,” she demanded. “Dance with me!”
What choice did I have? She led me around the floor in a wild, incredibly sexy
and intimate dance- more of a mating ritual, actually! By the time the music
stopped, my head was spinning.
My breasts were soaked in sweat, the sheen of
perspiration glowing in the muted lighting of the hall. My dancing partner had
fired my libido in ways I had never imagined. I was so wet, so hot, my legs were
weak.
The next two hours were a blur. A second woman joined us. Each sat on a chair
and I straddled the space in between, one of my legs overlapping one of theirs,
exposing me.
Hands, mouths roamed all over me. I was kissed, poked, prodded,
pinched, bit, slapped, spanked, until I was almost in tears. I was tied over a
chair and spanked, made to lick boots, legs, leather covered asses.
At 11:45, I lay on the floor like a puppy, curled up at someone’s feet. I was
still blindfolded. My inflatable gag had been removed, but later replaced by a
rubber ball. The music stopped.
“Masters and Mistresses, it’s time for the draw,” some one was saying over the
loudspeaker. “Get your tickets ready!” There was a buzz in the crowd.
“Draw? What draw?” I asked myself. Obviously I missed something while I was
otherwise occupied.
“The winning number is … 3-8-6-5-6!”
There was silence for a moment, and then from above me came a shrill cry of
excitement.
“Wooo! It’s mine!”
The room erupted with gales of laughter and a chorus of boo’s as the Domme who
had me laying at her feet shouted out her joy at winning … what?
She stepped over me and hurried away. I could hear the click of her high boots
as she scampered across the floor.
“Yep, Mistress Brandy has the winning ticket, all right!” the announcer boomed.
“So, Mistress, you get to choose the presentation for tonight. What’s it to be?
Table service? Centerpiece? Smorgasbord?”
The crowd, obviously knowing what was going on, cheered the various choices.
“Well, table service is out – it takes too damn long,” she replied. “So it’s
either the centerpiece …” a louder cheer … “But! We have a delicious newbie
in our midst who wants to be a slave,” Pointing in my direction, Brandy paused
for effect. “So we’re going to enjoy the all-you-can-eat smorgasbord!”
There was a lot of hooting and hollering and raucous noise at this announcement.
I was hauled to my feet by unseen hands.
“This will be lots of fun,” Mistress Brandy said as I was led away.
My mind was in a tizzy. All you can eat smorgasbord?
Part Two “… like it’s 19-99!”
Moments later I was chained in a spread eagle.
“Before we begin, you are a “newbie”, so I want your consent,” Mistress Brandy
spoke. “I want to paint you. To do so, I must remove your clothing. Are you
wearing underwear?”
I was startled. Stripped? Painted? Naked?
“Well Danette,” I said to myself. “It’s your fantasy, go with it girl!”
I shook my head up and down. On with the show!
“Doesn’t matter, I’m going to do it anyway,” Mistress Brandy was musing. “Legs!”
she commanded. I felt my legs being unchained, then refastened together – there
were other people in the room!
Then unseen hands were rolling my latex stockings
down my hips. It took only a few seconds and my legs were uncovered. I felt
fingers in the waistband of my panties.
I shook my head “No!”. I felt the clingy
rubber peel away from my buttocks and belly as the panties were rolled down. The
air felt suddenly cool against my naked most private flesh.
To my amazement, I was re-chained in a spread eagle. One arm was lowered, and my
rubber bra pulled over breasts, my head, my arm threaded through the strap and
refastened.
My breasts were wet, sore from their restraint. They sprang free
into the cool air, my round pinkish nipples hard and swollen. The bra was slid
up my other arm, and completely removed.
With the exception of my hooded face, I was completely naked.
Beneath the latex I had been covered with a light sweat; the room air was cool
against my skin.
I felt her hand against my skin. It was soft, soothing, erotic.
When she touched my naked breast, I tried to pull away. She laughed, and
continued to run her hands over my splayed body.
“Unh!” I cried out when I felt her hand against my soft pubic fur, her palm
cupping my sex.
I have never been touched there by a woman, and I wasn’t a
hundred per cent convinced that i wanted to be. But there was just something so
damned sensual and exciting about it all!
“Aw, poor newbie doesn’t like that?” tormented Mistress Brandy. “Well, we’ll do
something about that.” She snapped her fingers.
In a flash, unseen hands unfastened my legs, pulled the rubber grope panties
back on me, and spread eagled me once more. Mistress Brandy rubbed the hard
little knobs against my clit and labia, making me moan with pleasure. It felt so
good!
To my surprise, I felt a rope being wrapped around my waist. It was looped in
front and knotted off. Mistress Brandy took the long dangling ends and pulled
them down between my legs.
Her body pressed close to mine as she passed the rope
through the loop about my waist, splitting me. Twin strands of rope now ran down
through my splayed sex and back up through the crease between my ass cheeks.
I cried when Mistress Brandy pulled the rope tight between my legs. It drove the
rubber knobs hard against my sex, pressed the latex tight against the tender
flesh between my buttocks. She pulled it once more as she knotted the rope in
behind me.
I cried out again when she slapped my ass with her whip. I could feel the welt
rising when the second blow struck the other cheek. She pulled on the crotch
rope, ringing yet another cry of pain and pleasure from my lips.
My hips writhed
of their own accord as she adjusted the rope between my legs. It felt so good,
so bad at the same time! The stimulation and pressure on my clit was constant. I
could feel it with every breath, every move.
I knew I was wet, the love fluids
making those hard little knobs slip and slide against my slick and tender flesh.
The first dab of the liquid on my breast was warm yet strange feeling. Mistress
Brandy painted my breast, working the brush on the seldom-touched undersides.
The sticky liquid dried in a rubbery texture that clung to me, moved with me. It
was weirdly incredible!
The brush tickled and tantalized, the liquid grabbing me
in a weird but wonderful embrace!
Soon the sticky stuff covered all my exposed
skin – my arms, my waist, my legs, my breasts. Even the space between my toes
was now covered by a living second skin of – what?. It smelled like chocolate.
“Now little candy slut,” said Mistress Brandy. “We’re just going to let that
dry on you before we prepare the smorgasbord.”
I yelped when she smacked my ass, hard. She laughed. I could feel the liquid
covering hardening against my skin as I hung there like a piece of meat.
Kitchen noises, the clanging and clatter of pots and pans, were all around me.
Was that where I was, in the kitchen?
How many people could see me hanging here?
My heart began to pound hard and fast as my fright grew. But at the same time, I
was terribly, terribly excited!
Every time I moved in my bonds, the infernal
crotch ropes would dig in, pressing those infernal rubber knobs against my most
sensitive spots! I wished, I prayed I could come, but nobody was listening.
I heard male and female voices coming near. Beneath their laughter was the
squeaking wheels of a cart of some sort. I shook in my bonds, trying to get
free.
But that stopped right away when an unseen hand smacked my ass!
My ankles were crossed and roped together. Strong hands supported me as my arms
were released. I was lifted up and placed on the cart. I could feel something
squishy underneath me as I was forced to lay back. My hands were tied underneath
the cart where I lay. Ropes around each knee, also tied beneath the cart,
ensured that my legs were wide apart. I could move, but I could not sit. I was
totally exposed, totally vulnerable.
The sweet smell of fruit exploded in my nose as something cold was dumped over
and around my left shoulder and breast.
I could smell cheese, and felt hundreds
of hard little things hitting my right side. Lights went on in my head: I was
the smorgasbord!
“Mistress, should I gag her?” asked a male
.
“Of course,” Mistress Cuckcake Stories nonchalantly replied.
He pinched my nose closed, forcing my Cuckcake Stories mouth to open. I tasted apple as my teeth
sank into the soft flesh.
Mistress Brandy laughed. I felt warm liquid being
poured all over my body. The unmistakable sweetness of chocolate penetrated the
cloying fruity scent which filled my nose.
“Showtime!” She cried, and without further ado Cuckcake Stories, I was wheeled from the kitchen.
I heard a cheer as the swinging Cuckcake Stories doors flew open and I was wheeled out into the
waiting ballroom.
“Mistresses Cuckcake Stories and Masters, here is your smorgasbord! Enjoy!” bellowed the
announcer as the cart carrying me and who-knows-what-else came to a stop. I lay
there helpless, my stomach doing flip flops in terrified anticipation of what
was to come next.
It started with a single finger which traced a line down the space between my
breasts to my navel. I moaned in delighted fear. I damn near orgasmed on the
spot.
“Cuckcake Stories ! I Love Cuckcake Stories it!” cried a man’s voice.
It was like wolves devouring a Cuckcake Stories .
Hands grabbed at every part of my chocolate-sauced body. Strawberries, cherries
and slices of apple were rubbed against my breasts, my belly, my legs, and
swallowed up by unseen mouths. Some wag rubbed Cuckcake Stories a banana against the crotch ropes
as if it were a real penis. I couldn’t help but react, my pelvis thrashing at
the sensations.
Hot, wet snaky tongues licked my skin, smearing the gooey chocolate. Incredible
rockets of pleasure exploded in my head. I was enveloped, totally immersed in
fear and pleasure as they feasted on my helpless Cuckcake Stories body.
Despite myself, I could feel the orgasm building inside Cuckcake Stories me. I thrashed against
my bonds. no more, I wanted Cuckcake Stories , I wanted out of there Cuckcake Stories . Now!
My movements incited the revelers to pour more Cuckcake Stories of the gooey liquid chocolate
over my captive form. The apple was plucked from my mouth, and fingers soaked in
chocolate inserted between my bruised lips. Someone rubbed a strawberry against
my Cuckcake Stories pussy, then thrust the fruit in my Cuckcake Stories mouth.
It was a carnal smorgasbord, and I was the centerpiece.
Someone suckled on my Cuckcake Stories nipple, then a second mouth greedily fastened itself to my
other hard Cuckcake Stories bud. I felt a hand on my pussy, a finger exploring the sensitive,
bruised and recently whip creamed space between the crotchrope.
“Noo-oo-ooo!!” I screamed Cuckcake Stories , my head thrashing from side to side as the orgasm hit
me like a tsunami against a Japanese beach. Huge waves of pleasure overpowered
me, thrusting me into a kaleidoscope world of sensation. I wanted more hands on
me, I wanted hands in me, I wanted everything. I kicked, pulled, squirmed,
straining against my bonds, spraying fruit and chocolate everywhere as my Cuckcake Stories hips
pounded against the cart. Somewhere off in the distance I could smell sweet
crushed strawberries, bitter chocolate mashed bananas and Cuckcake Stories human lust.
“Unnhh” I cried incoherently as the second climactic wave shook my body,
threatening to tear it to bits in a maelstrom of pleasure Cuckcake Stories . I made more jam of
the fruit as the orgasm pounded through me Cuckcake Stories .
Like a patient going under anesthetic Cuckcake Stories , I began to feel my body slip away.
The last thing I heard was Mistress Brandy saying, “I told you this was going to
be fun Cuckcake Stories , didn’t I?”
“Yes Mistress” was my blurred reply as I disappeared into a chocolate-fruity
scented fog.
When I awoke, I was no longer tied to the Cuckcake Stories cart. I was alone in the change room.
I sat up, very wobbly and somewhat disoriented.
I caught a glimpse of my
reflection in the mirror. Gobs of red and yellow mushed fruit clung through a
swirling mess of brown goo which covered my body.
There was chocolate and fruit
on the rubber helmet which I still wore. I looked down, but the rope binding my
private parts was gone. I was very sore down there Cuckcake Stories.
I turned as I struggled my sore body off the cart. I stunk of sweetness. No more
desserts for this young lady, no Cuckcake Stories!
I noticed a wash cloth and towel on the cart. I picked them up, and looked
around to find a Cuckcake Stories sink.
Boy, did I need to be cleaned up! Soaking the wash cloth,
I wiped as much of the sticky mess off my body as I could. I’d have a good hot
soak when I got home, for sure! i reached for Cuckcake Stories the towel.
A business card fluttered to the floor from between the folds.
I picked it up. It had the name “Cuckcake Stories Brandy” engraved upon it, and a telephone
number. I turned it over, and saw the note.
“Little Chocolate Slut,” it read. “Be careful what you wish for. It might come
true.”
It was signed simply, “Mistress Cuckcake Stories”.
“Huh,” I said out loud.
I turned toward the locker holding my Cuckcake Stories bag of clothes. I noticed the garbage can
in the corner.
I thought about what Cuckcake Stories I had gone through this past evening as I slipped into my
street clothes.
I picked up the card, and looked over at the garbage container.
And put the card in my bag.
I sang out loud as, stiff and sore, I headed back out to the Cuckcake Stories real world.
“Two thousand zero zero, whoops! party’s over, out of time …”
Stiff and sore, I did a little shuffle as I headed for the Cuckcake Stories stairs.
Gee, life is good! Cuckcake Stories