CuttyChapter 37 The Lap Dance Lesson
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Cut It Off (Part 4) free porn video
The place House Slave used as their home was a subterranean floor of an old office building not far from downtown. The access was discrete and the halls were warm and quiet. We traveled there under the cover of darkness, still naked, without being seen. The thought of wearing clothes ever again made me feel mournful.
The man who was head of their house escorted me to a guestroom.
“Sometimes, we visit House Pain, when their numbers are low and they need playmates. This room is used for recovery,” he explained.
The room had a lower ceiling, but otherwise felt like a cottage bedroom in the mountains. The bed was low to floor and covered with haphazard blankets against the chill. I could see a small bath with a tub through a half-open door.
“Would you like to be bathed?” he asked, following my gaze and touching my back gently.
“Yes, please.”
“May I?” he asked.
I nodded, feeling more curious than aroused.
He closed the door to the hallway and went into the bath to begin filling the tub.
A full length mirror hung on the wall. I stepped in front of it. My hair was untidy, and I looked exhausted, but not unhappy. My breasts were slightly bruised. The areoles had darkened almost to black from the loss of their nipples and subsequent cauterization. I had a few errant scratches and blood splatter on my stomach and abdomen.
Below that, my pussy was red and swollen from the belt and from a lifetime of use rendered in a few hours. The parts that had been burned, I realized, had been treated during my sedation. The outside of my labia were red and mottled, but looked like they would heal fine. My stitches showed signs of pulling, but remained in place, save for the tiny gap where I had had catheters inserted. My thighs were lightly bruised too.
He stepped up behind me and surveyed my reflection. I managed a smile. He pulled me back against him and squeezed gently.
“You are so beautiful right now. You will be even more so once you’ve rested and healed a bit.”
“Thank you.”
He guided me by the arm into the bath and helped me step into the warm bathwater. I sank slowly into it, the water stinging my stitches. I relaxed as the pain abated.
He smiled and dimmed the lights a little bit before pulling an old-fashioned wooden stool to the side of the tub.
“Lean back and relax.”
I did as he said and closed my eyes. He dampened his hands and gently began washing my neck and chest. The water smelled faintly of roses and citrus.
He palmed my wounded areoles gently, no doubt washing away dried blood and burnt flesh. He had the wisdom of experience in his touch. I moaned softly, feeling a hint of erogenous sensation.
“This house is a welcoming place to the wounded. Do not deny yourself pleasure. If you want to touch yourself, go ahead.”
“Too tired, but…thank you.”
I smiled a little as his hand slipped beneath the water’s surface and stroked my cunt. I couldn’t feel aroused, but it was pleasurable nonetheless.
“Be at ease.”
I sighed softly and relaxed into his touches. His fingertips gently rubbed the outside of my labia, working their way to stroke my sensitive seam. The pad of his index finger massaged my opening without penetrating me. The muscles of my hungry cunt tensed and relaxed in response.
After a few moments, he resumed bathing me, washing my arms and then my stomach. His fingers on my inner thighs drew soft moans from me.
He spent more time washing my cunt and taint with touches slightly firmer than his caresses. I lifted a little as he washed my asshole.
“I would enjoy this part of you at some later time, if you are so inclined.”
“How?” I murmured sleepily.
The tip of his index finger swirled inside of me. My ass reflexively tried to pull him in.
“I also enjoy eating ass.”
He continued his journey down my body, washing my calves and feet.
“Lean forward,” he said a moment later.
I did as he asked and sighed deeply as he washed and massaged my back. Opening my eyes, I startled. The water was pink from the blood he had washed off me. I had no idea that there had been so much.
He slipped an arm around my chest and kissed the back on my neck.
“I have seen so much more,” he told me, intuiting my reaction. “Your friend from the hospital had a slight bleed from the removal of his scrotum. Much more blood in the water.”
I nodded. I wanted to ask questions.
He helped me stand and pulled the plug.
“I’ll prepare the bed while you enjoy a quick rinse,” he said, turning the shower on for me.
I rinsed the residue from my skin and let the water pour through my hair. I washed my face in the warm spray before turning off the shower and stepping a bit clumsily out.
I dried myself with a towel hanging by the door, squeezing the water from my hair.
He was waiting on the bed for me. I took a moment to admire his muscle tone and the faint traces of ginger hair on his thighs, calves, and forearms. My gaze inevitably rested in the moist hole in the center of his groin. He did not seem to mind the scrutiny.
“Perhaps the lights?” he suggested gently. “Unless you would sleep with one on?”
I nodded and switched off the bathroom light. He reached for the lamp by the bed, but did not switch it off.
“Do you need this before you go to sleep?” he asked, taking a catheter from the table.
I blushed slightly, but said, “I think so.”
“May I have you a second time?”
I sat back against the headboard and opened my legs for him. He kissed my hole a few times, licking it gently, before inserting the tube.
I stroked the top of his shaved head as he drank my piss. His dark eyes glimmered up at me as he swallowed my urine. I was beginning to find it more pleasurable than any sex I had ever had and more intimate too. He kissed and licked me clean afterward.
He helped me under the covers and turned the light off. He climbed into bed with me and pulled me into his arms, spooning me. A protective hand cupped my pussy.
“May I stroke you for a while? Until sleep comes?”
“Of course,” I answered opening my legs for him.
I drifted to sleep during the gentlest and most erotic massage my pussy had ever received.
Morning came with the sensation of a mouth suckling at my cunt. It was a wonderful way to wake up. I realized quickly that it wasn’t the man I had fallen asleep with. I opened my eyes to find a woman between my legs, enjoying my pussy. I recognized her as the woman who had rubbed my feet at initiation.
“Fuck?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Sure,” I agreed, spreading my legs a little wider for her.
She climbed on top of me and began rubbing her infibulated cunt against mine. I was already damp from her mouth. The way she slid against me was practiced, but no less erotic for it. Her eyes looked deeply into mine as she grinded her smooth pussy on my seam.
“You feel so good,” I panted, getting wetter by the second.
“I cut my own clit off when I was young and never told anyone. I fed the pieces to our family dog.”
I moaned softly.
“My husband didn’t understand and pressured me to get a restorative procedure. Instead, I had myself nullified completely and sewn closed while he was on a business trip.”
She was gasping as she spoke, continuing to grind hard against me, her skin gliding across mine as fluid leaked out of me.
“At first, he was angry, but then we had sex. He had never done anal or fucked anyone who identified as a sex slave. He changed his mind completely.”
Her story was making me incredibly hot.
“Last year, we castrated him. I love how deep he can go now. Someday, he wants to give up his nipples and his…his glans.”
She gasped and shuddered with pleasure, wriggling her pussy against mine.
I don’t think she came, but she clearly enjoyed the experience. I was just warming up as she climbed off me.
She slid down to my pussy and began passionately licking my seam.
“Do you like having a catheter inserted?” she asked, lapping my opening.
“Yes.”
“You should try a vibrating sound. The feeling is like nothing else.”
“I’ll remember that.”
She spent a long time pleasuring me. Her face was coated with my pussy juice as she pulled away.
“I hope you enjoyed your morning wake-up.”
She kissed me, letting me taste myself in her mouth, before leaving me.
My bladder was uncomfortably full and I knew I would be unable to pee normally from the hole I had in my seam. A couple packs of catheters were on the table by the bed. I picked one up and wondered if I could manage it. Everyone here made it seem so easy…
But everyone also seemed to enjoy drinking piss. How difficult would it be to find assistance?
I brushed my fingers through my hair and stepped into the hallway. I turned the opposite way we had entered, hoping to find a central gathering place.
Fortuitously, I encountered the two young guys who had cleaned me up during the initiation. They had been laughing as they rounded a corner, but stopped short when they saw me.
“I could use some help?” I said, holding up the catheter.
They both smiled and gestured back the way I had come. I thought we would go back to my room, but instead they guided me into an alcove with a padded bench.
“Sit down and open wide,” the one with nipple piercings instructed, taking the catheter.
The other guy leaned back against the wall behind him to watch, holding his fold open to play with his hole.
I spread my legs and watched him use his mouth to moisten the gap in my seam.
“You’ve been busy this morning,” he said, sucking my hole. “Did you cum?”
“Not yet.”
He inserted the catheter with practiced ease and took it deep in his mouth, so that his lips still touched my skin.
“It’s going to be a lot,” I warned him.
He moaned against my seam and closed his eyes.
His companion was working a fingertip into his tight hole. He was obviously enjoying the show. I reached down and rubbed where my clit had been. His eyes widened and he moaned.
The guy between my legs finished drinking my piss, giving a few extra sucks that felt really nice.
“Fuck me with the catheter?”
His eyes widened, but he nodded.
The catheter thrust in and out of my pee hole, gaining speed and force as he gained confidence. I threw back my head and moaned with pleasure. It burned, but it was an erotic burn, like rubbing a dry clit. I could feel an ejaculation coming.
“Pull out.”
He yanked the catheter out of me and I ejaculated on his face, the force of my cum through such a tiny hole covering his face and neck with a fine spray of pussy juice.
His companion was on top of him in an instant, pushing him to the floor and licking my cum from his face. They were perfectly sized for each other. Their slits rubbed against each, wet enough to make sloppy sounds. Soon they were kissing and fucking, at least as well as they could, with passion that was remarkable for two guys who likely couldn’t cum.
Wanting to join them, I slicked my fingers with my copious juices and worked a finger into the ass of the boy who was on top. He broke away from his partner’s mouth for a moment.
“…yes,” he groaned.
I got two fingers into him before the boy on the bottom cried out softly. I felt a spatter of something hot and wet. He had ejaculated, but without an orgasm, just like I had.
They kept going until the boy in the middle was satisfied. I pulled my fingers out of him.
“That was hot,” he said over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” the other guy agreed. “I never had a girl cum in my face before.”
“Or put fingers in me without me asking. Super hot.”
“Someday he should take your fist,” his companion joked.
“Not until I can take yours.”
“Are you together?” I asked as they began cleaning each other up.
They both grinned and the pierced one said, “Fraternal twins. We’ve had our hands on each other’s junk since before we were born. There are pictures.”
My face must have shown my confusion.
“Yeah, it’s uncommon that brothers get cut. We decided we wanted to spend our lives together as partners, but we didn’t want to deal with the bottom-top bullshit or the sex shaming. So we talked about it for a long time. Did some chastity stuff. Then we got cut together.”
“It was tough watching his penis come off…”
“Same.”
“But the process brought us closer together.”
“I swallowed his glans, and he swallowed mine. It was like a marriage ceremony.”
“How long ago?”
“Two years now, give or take.”
They shared a knowing look and gently touched each other’s fold. They were both still very wet.
“Can I lick your holes?” I asked them.
“Sure, I’m good for it,” said the pierced one.
I sat on the bench again and they brought their slits to my face. It was challenging doing both of them at once, but sexy too, rubbing one while I licked the other and switching between them. They kissed and played with their nipples while I enjoyed them down below.
Although twins with very similar nullifications, I could feel that beneath the surface, the guy who had drank my piss had more tissue left than his brother.
They let me enjoy them for a long time before gently pushing me back against the bench. My pussy had leaked everywhere – down my taint, my thighs, onto the floor.
They were enthusiastic about cleaning my pussy and thighs, and I enjoyed having them down there. We left the little puddle of girl cum where it was.
“We’ll escort you back to the guestroom.”
When we arrived, the guy from the previous night was waiting there, seated on the edge of the bed. He smiled warmly when he saw who accompanied me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping in the laundry?” he asked, gesturing for them to come to him.
“We were waylaid…and then regular laid.”
He leaned forward and kissed their slits, tonguing them lightly, as he held them by the hips. My cunt throbbed at the realization that this was their traditional greeting.
“Well, see that you find your ways again. The sheets don’t wash themselves.”
After they had gone, he gestured for me to come forward.
“I’m never sure exactly how sewn women want to be greeted and most are too shy to say.”
“The same as the boys probably works.”
He leaned forward and kissed where my clit had been, drawing his tongue lightly up my seam. It felt both very pleasurable and very natural.
“I was surprised to find you gone this morning. I had sent someone to wake and attend you.”
“She did that very well. I just needed help with a catheter. The boys were very enthusiastic about assisting me.”
“I’m glad you found what you needed. We’re having breakfast soon. Are you hungry?”
I nodded and he stood, giving me his hand, “Then I will show you how my house enjoys its meals.”
I walked with him to an open room with access to a busy kitchen, but no tables or chairs. I could smell traditional breakfast foods cooking – eggs, sausage, pancakes. In fact, most of the food seemed to be coming out of the kitchen as we entered. People were placing it on counters just outside the kitchen on large serving trays.
“I’ll get breakfast for us. Just take seat.”
I nodded and sat down near a wall to watch other people who were entering after us, mostly in twos or threes. He returned with a plate of food a few minutes later, stop to talk a few times as he crossed the room.
“Because you are our guest, I will act as your table.”
He handed me the plate and lay down on the floor in front of me.
I risked a glance around the room to see what other breakfasting pairs were doing. Most were carefully transferring food from their trays to their partners’ chests, stomachs, and groins.
One man was rolling a condom onto a sausage. My cunt quivered as he slipped the steaming length of sausage into his partner’s stretched hole, so that it stood up like an erect penis. He delicately sliced off the tip and fed it to his partner.
“I never tire of watching them do that,” he commented as I began transferring the warm food to his chest and stomach.
I looked at the triangle between his legs. His hole was far too small for that sort of feat.
I picked up my fork and teased his hole gently with the tines before spreading butter on the pancakes where the rested just above his tight mons. He clearly liked that as his hole began to moisten slightly. I slowly cut off a piece of pancake and fed it to him.
He gave me an encouraging nod. I cut off my own piece and rubbed his hole with the handle of the butter knife.
From there, I took turns feeding him and eating, playing with his hole through most of the meal. Butter slowly made its way toward his opening as we ate, moving slowly along his skin. When it reached there, I moved between his thighs and began licking it off. He shuddered with pleasure.
The couple with the sausage was in a similar pose as the man ate the last few protruding inches of sausage, directly from his companion’s hole. It looked like he was devouring his cock. They were making eye contact the entire time.
We finished our meal together and I cleaned the crumbs from his chest and stomach. He sat up and faced me.
“How was it?”
“Very sensual.”
“I hope someday we can have breakfast together again, with you as the table this time. I will show you sensual,” he said with a confident half-smile.
I glanced around us and noticed some of the couples and triads were beginning to have sex. For them, breakfast had been foreplay. Others were sitting as we were, talking in low voices.
“Is it always like this?” I asked him.
“Not always. We gather a few times each month as an escape from our more mundane lives outside. After initiations, we try to have breakfast and some time together.”
I had done the math in my head several times already. The cutter had done four people, including me, this week. Over the course of a year, that was two hundred people with some holidays. Yet I only saw one other person with signs of recent work.
“How often are initiations?”
“It varies. Not everyone comes to us. Some are intercepted by doctors. If you had been at the ER without our friend on duty, they would have sedated you and opened you up. You would look very much different down here,” he said, stroking my seam with reverent fingers.
“Others,” he continued, “don’t respond as keenly as you did to post-cutting sexuality. Still others tend themselves at home instead of going to the hospital. We try to bring everyone we can, everyone who is interested, everyone who would make a good new addition to our community.”
“Maybe twice per month,” he said, answering my question, “but it really does vary.”
“How many people did I have sex with at my initiation?” I ask curiously.
He laughed aloud and said, “I guess it depends on what constitutes sex for you. There were one hundred and forty present, and I believe you had intimate contact with all of them.”
My face must have shown my surprise, but his attention was on my pussy. It literally throbbed at thought of so much stimulation. He swirled his fingertip around my wet opening and brought his finger to his mouth.
“I would like to spend some time enjoying your taste.”
He laid back and gestured for me to mount him. This was new territory for me. I climbed on top of him. He positioned me gently, guiding my seam to his waiting lips. He lapped me slowly, enjoying the fluid leaking out of my tight hole.
His thumb massaged the area where my clit had been, tracing the groove where the nerves had been destroyed.
“Tell me how this was done,” he asked.
“After he tore off my clit, “I told him, panting heavily from the stimulation, “he used a drill to remove the stump and all of the buried nerve. I had one of the best cums of my life while he was doing it.”
He moaned into my infibulated cunt. I began rocking my hips back and forth, riding his face as I remembered the procedure.
“He cauterized me and offered me the chance to leave the hole open, but I wanted it closed.”
He moaned again, stroking the groove with his thumb as though he might still stimulate me that way as he sucked.
I was on the edge and thought I might ejaculate.
He worked me hard with his mouth on my infibulated cunt, drawing mouthfuls of pussy juice out of me, but unfortunately, not an ejaculation, anorgasmic or otherwise.
Eventually, I pulled away and stretched out on top of him, licking my juices from his face and slowly rubbing my seam against his hole.
He slipped a hand between our genitals.
“I don’t,” he said simply.
“But at the initiation?” I asked, moving to the side.
“That was to pleasure you. I am a slave in all things.”
We both sat up, facing each other.
“Have you reached a decision?” he asked me. “About your house?”
I had nearly forgotten about that. I hesitated.
He gently stroked my chest and said, “I know it must be difficult. I came here before houses existed in our community. I built mine from likeminded friends and playmates. We have never been a large house, but we are all close and loving and loyal to each other.”
I knew he wasn’t trying to recruit me. If he had been, we wouldn’t have stopped fucking.
“What is House Switch like?”
He thought for a moment and said, “Chaotic, hedonistic, fun-loving, numerous. Many choose that house, knowing that they’ll find easy playmates there, no matter their sexual expression, kinks, or need for connection. You would never lack companionship or new things to try.”
I admired his honest reply.
“What is House Pain like?”
He breathed in deeply and told me, “Brutal at times, lovers of dominance, adventurous, breakers of taboos. I believe your initiation ceremony proved that your cunt is meant for House Pain, but I’m not so sure about your soul. In the short-term, you would experience ecstasies few in this world ever know, but over time, even these experiences would lose their shine.”
“What is House Slave like?”
“Have you not see?” he asked, turning my chin to look at the room around us.
Most of our breakfast companions had finished having sex and were clearing away their dishes. At first glance, it looked mundane, but then I noticed small intimate touches, not just to their nullified genitals, but on hands, arms, backs, and faces. They were quiet for the most part, but very loving toward each other.
“We are as you find us. Perhaps not as raucous as the others, but certainly kinder and more focused on others’ needs, even outside the expression of sexuality. You have it in you as well, should you choose to cultivate that aspect.”
“But no one here would ever…do the things House Pain would do?”
“No, we would not.”
“And if I went to them as a guest?”
“The head of their house would gladly use you, but never let you cum.”
“Does House Switch…”
“They have no rules, but I don’t know anyone who would handle you as Pain did during initiation. That level of erotic torture is unique to them.”
“I would be cut open.”
“He would let you heal somewhat, but yes, ultimately. He doesn’t favor full infibulation. It leaves him with too little to play with. Only you know if that’s acceptable to you.”
“The nurse from the hospital is in that house…”
“True. He is a good playmate. I have submitted myself to him before, when he’s had the need for an older submissive man. I never doubted that I was in good hands.”
“He’s a dominant?”
“He’s ***********ively submissive. He has an interesting dynamic with his housemates. For medical kink, you will find none better. Conversely, I’ve seen his ass fisted more than once by the head of House Pain. Once for demonstration purposes. Once as punishment for some transgression in his house.”
I tried to digest all of that.
“Continue asking,” he urged me. “They will come seeking you soon for an answer.”
“The boy from Switch…the one with scar tissue…”
“Yes, I know his father. We play together often. His purification is a marvel. I’ve never seen nullification so complete.”
“Have you played with the son?”
“I drank him once while he was still healing. It was an act of loving acceptance, not play. He would have done better to join my house, but it would have been hard to leave his father, especially in that state.”
“Do they…”
“To the best of my knowledge, no, they don’t fuck. His father’s unusual choice, to retain his foreskin, makes him a sought after playmate in House Switch, but still others are uncomfortable with so much…tissue remaining. Even here we find reasons to mistrust differences.”
“That must have been a difficult procedure.”
“He told me about it while we were playing. It took eleven hours to remove his penis, but spare his foreskin. I wonder sometimes why he wasn’t drawn to House Pain.”
He chuckled and reached down to my tiny cunt hole. I was leaking copious amounts of fluid, brought on by our conversation.
“If you don’t have any additional questions, I would gladly give you a suck while you think.”
I lay back on the floor of the empty room and spread wide for him. Part of me felt guilty for not reciprocating, but I knew his ethos and that he was licking my cunt not out of hope for reciprocity, but because he felt it was his calling to pleasure other people. I closed my eyes and let him eat me for as long as he wanted, my pussy producing a steady trickle of nectar to satisfy him.
I knew already what my decision was going to be. -->
Gert
- 05.09.2020
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