Chapter Two
Lydia
Arousal built low in her belly, pushing down until she felt it throbbing deep inside her pussy. She shifted her hips, trying desperately to find some friction to relieve the ache, but her restraints held tight, not allowing her any movement. Sweeping her desperate gaze around the room, she saw Stephan smirk at her obvious desperation. An irrational urge to stick her tongue out at him overwhelmed her, but she held it back.
Finally, after what felt like forever, a short, balding, yet extremely fit, man stepped out from the crowd of gawkers. He wore faded jeans, the button undone, and no shirt, putting his near perfect physique on display. Standing before her, he ghosted his open hand over her thigh, not touching, but close enough the heat from his skin radiated onto her own. “Your juices are visible even from ten feet away. It’s obvious to everyone here how much you love being put on display. Trussed up and ready to be used.”
Lydia didn’t respond but arched her back, trying to push her body into the man’s touch.
“Tsk, tsk, Angel. You don’t get touched until we say so. Your pleasure is at the mercy of everyone here.” The stranger’s eyes gleamed with delight. “We could collectively decide to stage an orgy in front of your little stage but never once lay a finger on you.”
Lydia whimpered, shaking her head. God, please don’t let them. But his words were true. Her rules only outlined what people were allowed to do to her. She never specified whether they could refrain from touching her at all.
“But what fun would that be?” Swooping in like a bird of prey, the bald man enveloped one of Lydia’s nipples with his mouth, sucking and nipping at it until she gasped and writhed in pleasure.
As always, once the first visitor stepped forward and began to play with her, more followed. A couple approached, the woman in a skimpy lingerie set Lydia recognized from La Perla, the man in sharp navy trousers and a button-down shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows.
“What do you think, darling? You think her pussy is as tight as yours?” The man pressed his front against the woman’s back, his hand skating down along her shoulder and arm. “Why don’t we find out?”
The woman—his wife, if the rings on their fingers were to be believed—nodded and bit her lip. They laced their fingers together and rubbed Lydia’s weeping pussy, not penetrating her yet, simply running their joined hands back and forth over her slit.
“Oh,” the woman gasped. “She’s so wet.” Together, the couple plunged their index fingers deep into her sopping pussy.
Hell, that felt good.
The room may have been slow to start, but they weren’t taking it easy on her. Already Lydia could feel the first stirring of her climax building deep in her belly. And there were only three people playing so far. Letting her head hang down, she watched as one stranger sucked at her breasts like a man starved, while the couple alternated pushing their fingers in and out of her pussy. The man licked and kissed along his wife’s neck as they fucked Lydia with their fingers.
The visual was not helping to keep her impending release at bay. Instead, she peered out over their heads, taking in the crowd that had formed around them. There had to have been at least thirty people held captive by the show taking place on her little stage. Some of the men openly stroked their cocks. To the right, two women were on their knees sucking off another man. Two women stood chest to chest, their hands hidden beneath each other’s clothes as they fingered each other, both of them watching Lydia through hooded eyes. Another couple stood to the side, the man’s arms tight around his partner’s curvy body. They weren’t touching in a sexual way, only watching in mild curiosity, but the vibe between them spoke of a deep intimacy, something Lydia found herself longing for.
The pressure increased inside her swollen tunnel, and Lydia’s eyes flew down to the crowded space between her legs. The bald man had added one of his fingers to the couple’s, and now all three pumped in time in and out of her opening. Wild moans and whimpers rose from her throat, joining with the sounds of dozens of other people in the room racing toward their own climaxes.
Another couple stepped forward: two big, burly men, one tanned and blond with a beard, one black and clean shaven everywhere. Neither wore a stitch of clothing. Their large cocks bounced back and forth on their thighs as they strode toward her. Anyplace else and they might even have intimidated her with their size alone. But here she knew she was safe and that everyone had been informed of her rules.
The one with the beard bent his partner over so that he had no choice but to plant his hands on the raised platform on which Lydia stood. The blond spread his dark-skinned counterpart’s ass cheeks and plunged his dick deep into the man’s ass as he stared directly into Lydia’s eyes. “You like that, honey? You like seeing me fuck my husband’s ass while you get finger fucked by three strangers?”
Lydia nodded enthusiastically. The image of two huge men joining together had always been one of her favorites, and she all too eagerly watched as the couple grunted in front of her.
“Lick this little slut’s cum off her legs while I pound you in front of everyone.” Without further prompting, the black man’s full lips opened, his wet pink tongue sweeping up the inside of Lydia’s arousal-covered thighs, gathering everything that leaked out between the three fingers of the strangers who had shifted slightly to the side to accommodate the new players.
Another woman stepped forward, coming to stand directly at Lydia’s side. “You are so beautiful standing up here, flushed and sweating, squirming like an eager little puppy looking to please.” The woman brushed her hands over Lydia’s torso, the touch delicate compared to the intensity of everything happening between her legs. “I could stand and watch these people tease you all day, but I knew I would regret it if I didn’t also participate.”
The new woman cupped her hands under Lydia’s aching breasts, then flickered her thumbs over the tightly beaded tips. The man having his ass pounded moved his tongue up to lap at her clit. The first man and couple’s fingers moved out of synchronization so she couldn’t tell whose finger was plunging while the others retreated. The sensations overwhelmed, and the orgasm she had been holding at bay would no longer wait to be ignored. So many different touches, different scenes around her, made her mind spin with dizzying bliss. One of her visitors whispered, “I think she’s about to come.”
The fingers disappeared from between her legs, hands now painting the arousal they had collected on her thighs, calves, and stomach. The woman who had toyed with her breasts moved to lick and kiss Lydia’s sides and hips. The men in front of her separated, then stood in front of her and stroked each other’s cocks.
“Can we come on you, Angel?” The large black man spoke for the first time, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. She nodded, and almost immediately they threw their heads back, looking deep into each other’s eyes as they moaned and yelled through two powerful orgasms. Their cum splashed onto her shins, mixing together and dripping down her legs. As the last drops dripped onto her platform, the men turned to each other and kissed so passionately it almost brought a tear to her eye.
“Thank you, Angel.” The men stepped back, their arms tucked around each other.
As her breathing returned to normal, she noticed the other couple had also left her side, and new strangers took their place, everyone glancing to Ronin for permission to continue playing with her. At his nod, fingers, tongues, and teeth went back to work driving her need and desire higher and higher. A few times she called out, “Yellow,” but mostly she didn’t need to because the room could sense when she got close and backed off their ministrations.
The faces and bodies of her visitors began to blur until she lost count of how many people had come to play with her oversensitized body. She wanted desperately to come and yet loved the withholding of her pleasure. The illusion of being powerless sent a rush of dizziness to her head, though she knew only she could give the word that would allow them to let her finish.
Her head rocked back and forth against the wall as her climax barreled down on her for what felt like the hundredth time in the hours she stood on her stage. Opening her eyes, a form in the back of the room caught her eyes. He stood out from the rest because of his stiff stance. The mysterious man stood ramrod straight in a three-piece suit that had to have cost as much as the very hefty membership fee to Club Zion. All around him, people were fucking. The writhing group twisted, and people traded partners as they watched Lydia’s pleasure-weakened body. But this gorgeous man stood among the fray, arms crossed, eyes only on her. His face gave no clues as to how he felt about the spectacle around him. But as their gazes connected, Lydia thought she might have seen a swirling mix of lust and anger behind his hazel eyes.
Unable to look away, she stared at the man as more people stepped forward to touch and play with her body. The pleasure ramped up to another level, and she moaned and screamed, needing to let it all go. She wanted the man in the back of the room to witness her undoing, so didn’t say the warning word.
“Say green. Let us make you come,” one of the strangers whispered. Others around the room picked up the mantra, “Say green. Say green.” So many people wanted to see her come apart. It was a heady bit of knowledge. Her chest heaved as her lungs struggled to keep up with the spiraling arousal. Her arms ached from being held aloft for so long, and her legs were weak and shaking with the effort of holding back the inferno building inside her.
