Wildclub First Swingers Club Visit
- 2 years ago
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The Club Part 2
I had the older lady lay on the table so the plugged sub could see her torso and what would be happening. She was no novice, she lay back with her hands over her head, feet flat on the table and knees spread. Her breasts settled over her chest, but the row of clamps would bring those back into shape.
I noticed the tail hanging down between the legs of the bent over sub twitching. It was in a rhythmic cadence from her contractions. I slipped two fingers inside her to feel the plug, and they were clamped in unison with the tail twitching. Not only was her vaginal sphincter clamping on my fingers, but also the tips were pressed on at the same time by the plug through the membrane separating the two passages. It was an erotic feeling to feel the inner muscles of the bowels causing these contractions. She was becoming more distressed but also being aroused, evidenced by the fluids coating my fingers. I twisted my hand to allow my thumb to pinch her clitoris against the two embedded fingers. She moaned and thrust in response, I quickly pulled out which thwarted her orgasm.
Now I went back to the task at hand. Moving back to the supine specimen on her back, I pushed her right breast over to the center of her chest and applied the first clothespin to the tender flesh at the junction of ribcage and breast tissue. The string of clothespins were joined together with a small chain and spaced about two inches apart. This was for maneuverability, not for recommended spacing. These would be placed close enough to touch each other. The second clamp was placed next to the first, establishing the intended path which was upwards toward the nipple. I took my time, allowing the pain of each clamp to register before applying the next one. This woman was into pain, there wasn’t a movement of her upper torso, but her hips quivered with each application and even though it was out of my sight, I knew her vagina was contracting in arousal.
One by one the clamps made a row up the side of her breast until the areola was reached. I wanted one on the dark flesh on each side of the nipple as well as the nipple itself. This required a minor adjustment in spacing, but the additional gap it required was insignificant. The first to clamp the areola caused a small twitch of the shoulder muscles. The next one, which clamped down on the aroused hard nipple caused a spasm that actually lifted her back slightly. I waited for the pain to register but evidently it caused some numbness because when I put the next one on alongside the nipple clamp, there was no response.
The next couple of clamps were blasé in response, but by the time I got to the tender flesh between her breasts, I was once again seeing evidence of feeling. As I progressed up the inside of her left breast, she was involuntarily twitching from the pain. Again an areola had to be dealt with. By the time the three clamps covered the darker tissue, one each alongside the nipple and one directly on the nipple, the shoulder muscles were pushing
her slightly off the table. I knew she was trying hard to endure, but reflexes are hard to control.
The remaining row of clamps across and down the side of the left breast was uneventful. The pains of the previous applications were dampening out the remaining feelings. With the excess chain unused, I let it hang down off the table. The clamping of the skin gathered up the loose excess and made her breasts stand up as they used to. It was erotic but also grotesque, the row of clamps standing upright across her chest.
I noticed the plugged and filled first subject was now in dire straits. She enjoyed the view of the clamping, but now the cramps were taking control. The tail from the plug was thrashing with each convulsion from the cramps. Hips were thrusting forward seeking relief. Her eyes were closed as she endured as best she could. I didn’t think she could endure the violence of the zippering, the plug would give way to extreme orgasm resulting in dilation and expulsion of the pony tail plug.
I went behind her and reaching around, grasped a nipple in each thumb and forefinger. Squeezing as hard as I could, I pulled her to an upright position and back into me. She moaned in pain but also in arousal. I knew she enjoyed the challenge, but also knew she was at her limit. I told her to go and empty herself, I would await her return.
The crowd was increasing now, sensing a scene. My subject was laying in compliance, hurting yet aroused, longing for the culmination of the act. The row of clothespins resembling a picket fence attracted those who knew what it meant. Many could feel the pain that was going to evolve, all wanted it to be them who was waiting on that table.
The sight was very erotic, I could feel my own arousal building, but I had planned on a special release of my needs, and it wasn’t with this subject, but the one who was emptying herself of the injected oil. For now, I had other matters to attend to.
I waited for the first subject to return so she could observe the act. Obviously the oil was quickly ejected because she was now walking back to the scene with a serene look on her face. She was knowledgeable enough to know to reinsert the plug, which was evidenced even from a frontal view by the tail hanging down between her legs as she walked. I motioned her to stand beside me, which she did, and she took a pose with legs spread and hands behind her back. The two women were so different, yet each stunningly sexy in their own way. I was fortunate to have such willing subjects.
I solicited some assistance from the two nearest women who were obviously caught up in the scene. They had been mesmerized in the scenario played out before them, and were oblivious to anybody else in the room. Each one of them had either reached inside their clothing to stroke or fondle themselves, or had gone the next step and dropped whatever they were wearing to further facilitate their ministrations. Of the two, one was naked and
the other might as well be.
I had each one grab a knee and pull it apart to expose even more of her privates. The pain of the clothespins was arousing to her, indicated by the wetness of her folds. Labia were swollen in arousal and moistness coated the inner linings. Muscles were contracting in suspense or need, not known by me at this time, but I sensed it was need.
With the crowd on edge and holding their breath, I decided it was time. I placed my left hand over her mouth to stifle the scream, and then reached across to grasp the end of the chain of clamps. Looking into her eyes, I yanked the chain back towards me. The sequential clacking of the wooden clamps coming off sounded like the dreaded zipper that all expected. Her torso jolted upwards in response to the pain, her scream muffled by my hand as I kept her head pinned to the table.
Moans escaped the lips of most of the crowd watching. The sound of the zippering attracted a few more women since they obviously had heard that sound before.
I, as well as the others, watched in fascination as the bruises developed across her breasts. They were small dashes resembling the lines of perforated paper, but turning from red to a deep blue. Her nipples were throbbing from the pain but were also aroused by evidence of the hardness. Now she could enjoy the reward of my play.
I pulled an exam glove out of the valise and pulled it over my right hand, letting the cuff snap in place. The women knew that sound from having been to the gynecologist. No one was sure what I was going to do until I took out a tube of lubricant and began coating my gloved hand. Gasps formed as they realized what was coming. When my hand was fully covered and glistened with the oil, I stepped to the end of the table where her spread legs awaited me.
I toyed with the labia before progressing, not only to make sure she was aroused, but now that the stage was set for the act, I pushed two fingers inside her vagina. She moaned and clamped down. This wouldn’t do at all. I reached up and grabbed her sensitive right nipple and pinched as hard as I could. She thrust upwards, but did relax her sphincter that was clamping on my fingers. I decided that the time had come.
I withdrew my fingers and formed a pyramid with four fingers and the thumb tucked below them. I started in with the tips, slowly, allowing the flesh to expand to allow entry. When I was inside past the second knuckle, the progress stopped, the tightness not allowing further penetration. I waited, knowing that it was a reflex action of contraction. Gradually the muscle relaxed and I was able to push in a little further.
My hands are small and this was not an extreme damaging action, it only required patient steady pressure. Slowly my hand gained entrance up to the larger diameter of the knuckles. I waited, then reached up with my left hand and grabbed her shoulder for leverage, then pushed past the resistance and into her cavity, folding the fingers back to form a fist once I was inside.
Now her sphincter clamped down hard on my wrist, but it was too late, I had breached the opening. The sight of the stretched labia gripping my wrist was very erotic and shared by many, evidenced by the sound emanating from the audience.
I waited, allowing her to adjust to the full feeling inside her. I could tell that this was a new experience for her, in spite of the brief discomfort of the penetration, she was panting in arousal. Now she would experience the ultimate orgasm and one she would never forget.
I rotated my hand so that the knuckles scraped across her G-spot. She screamed and rose up as far as she could, muscles contracting in orgasm, which resulted in her squeezing out the built up collection of fluids in her cunt. The resulting spray exiting around my wrist coated my arm with her juices. The crowd appreciated the sight, several women had slipped into orgasmic bliss.
I pulled my still clenched fist out of her vagina with a resulting pop. The sloppy sound finished off those who had not yet reached a climax. Now it was time for my pleasure.
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## Foreword The reviews online were clear enough. Chez Catherine was a five star, white tablecloth restaurant. The black-tied waiter had sat her down at a small, candlelit table in the corner. A moment later, he brought her a bottle of sauvingnon blanc. "A bottle from Loire Valley, France. Compliments of Ms. Jillian, madam. She wishes me to inform you that she will arrive shortly." With a courteous nod of the head, the waiter turned and left. Kristen stared blankly into the...
Sophie is, let's say, someone to handle with care, she is definitely the dominant one in our relationship. I have to say that when having sex, that's great, as you can imagine, no complaining there. But outside of the bedroom, I sometimes have trouble to prevent her from walking straight over me, if you know what I mean. She knows and admits she is this way, but just tells me I have to become more manly. And I guess she is right, I am to sensitive at times, but you can't change that...
Note from Karen: Thanks again for the kind comments. New readers probably need to start with Part One but here's a brief recap of the story so far: Frank visited the Kitten Club, where all the waitresses started off as boys. He was both appalled and intrigued, but he went back again and again. He was eventually offered a job behind the bar. Strange and unwanted feelings started to surge inside him. At the end of Part Two, Rod, the club's resident stud, made Frank an offer he...
I’m Tom and my lovely wife Silvie and I have been married for eleven years now. We live in suburban Detroit where I’ve worked for one of the auto manufacturing companies for the past fourteen years. We live in this tiny little house in a suburban city just south of Detroit. It’s predominantly a blue collar neighborhood. It’s a nice town and nothing exciting never really happens here. The local newspaper headlines are usually packed full of stories about the high school...
I’m Tom and my lovely wife Erin and I have been married for eleven years now. We live in suburban Detroit where I’ve worked for one of the auto manufacturing company’s for the past fourteen years. We live in this tiny little house in a suburban city just south of Detroit. It’s predominantly a blue collar neighborhood. It’s a nice town and nothing exciting never really happens here. The local newspaper headlines are usually packed full of stories about the high school football team. Now the...
The Black Cock ClubbyTomWard©Chapter One: The Grand TourLucy assured me she'd look after me as we headed down the long driveway of the country house that now served as the black cock club resort. She had started coming here once a week the previous month but this was to be my first visit. As we parked the car and headed up the steps towards the front door there was nothing about the building to give away its unusual purpose. There was, however a completely naked brunette waiting by the...
Mark Yes, I went to India, but only for three days not four. I got back a half-day before I appeared at the condo. I spent that time at The Meadows and Club. Everyone else was in the city, except I did see Elsa and Stacy at the soon-to-be-open Club. The reason why was that I wanted to attend to the last details on the Grand Opening of the Club Infinity. With the time difference, and my weird sleeping habits, I was in almost constant communication with Elsa and Stacy about the place. I...
Ethel hung by her wrists while Harry and Rob left to get some rest. She nodded off from time to time but the fog of her mind cleared she realized that other than when they punched her she actually enjoyed the way they that fucked her so hard and so brutally. She enjoyed the helpless feeling as they ravaged her body. She believed that she could talk to the two men and they would release her without too much more abuse. She was wrong.As Harry and Rob drove back out to the warehouse they talked...
Ethel hated her name. She was born during the tenure of I Love Lucy. The beloved Ethel Mertz from the television show was the bane of the real life Ethel's existence. There were the jokes about her having to marry Fred. There was only one Fred in her high school class. He wasn't her type; not even if he was the last man on earth. Ethel was every bit the epitome of her name. At five feet even her looks, dress and vocabulary mimicked the character she despised. Although she fought to break the...
Have you ever heard of those common rumors about secret places where the megarich have their super secluded sex parties? Where the people running the nations would whatever they desire? The backroom within backrooms? What kind of things go on in such places? Marian Dureo knew quite a bit about such things. In fact, she had even laid eyes on it. Officially, she worked in the kitchen of Gran Morte's, a high-end restaurant in the Eastern District. Unofficially she was also in charge of...
------------------------------------------------------------------------ Feedback, critiques and comments are always welcome! Just drop me an email at [email protected]. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I had finally found one I liked. After six stores and countless hours, I had finally found one I liked. It was snug and gave me just the right amount of support. The color was amazing too. A bright orangish yellow that really popped. I...