You were not expecting us to turn down that street. An old warehouse district with a few hip bars and restaurants. The rest of the buildings slept in darkness since industry moved farther away to the edges of the city.
You asked me what we were doing, and I told you that a fantasy of yours was about to come true. That made your eyes wide and your lips mix with questions and protests. And yet, I saw unmistakable arousal on your face. I told you it was going to be huge, and you seemed to have more trouble walking in a straight line after that.
I turned to one of the imposing buildings and knocked on the large metal door. It was opened by a man dressed in black pants and a black turtle neck. I motioned for you to step inside, and I followed. Three other men were waiting, dressed the same. Two firmly took you by each wrist and led you swiftly ahead of me. You looked back as the other two men guarded against your retreat or protest.
The hallway opened to a large, open space—the interior of the warehouse. A light shone down on an oddly shaped table surrounded by a series of eight smaller spotlights in a semi-circle. The four men compelled you to the table and without a word began stripping you.
It wasn’t gentle, but not violent either. Just inevitable. No chance of resistance.
I heard your gasps as they worked. And you uttered a final “oh” when one yanked down the last garment left.
Your panties.
Now the four worked in tandem, lifting you onto the table. The purpose of the construction became clear. It was designed to bring your crotch upward, divide your legs, arch your back, and stretch your arms over your head. Your chest was heaving with ragged breaths as your wrists and ankles were strapped down. Your pussy must have felt impossibly exposed. It was framed by your dark, trimmed hair and flared because of the position your body was forced into.
Two television monitors flickered on. They were positioned on either side of your head and displayed the semicircle of small lights at your feet.
At the sound of many footsteps approaching, you seemed panicked on the table. But there was no prayer of modesty. You were displayed like a shameless slave slut and nothing could change it.
Eight people stepped into the little spotlights.
They were all commenting on your pussy, your breasts, and your body in a great jumble. The words hit you like slaps. Aggressive. Probing. Invasive. You pulled at the restraints. Groaned. But I could see the glint of wetness at your pussy as so many examined and scrutinized it.
Eight cocks snaked out of black pants. Hands spread lubricant on ridged, throbbing shafts. The words came out between gnashed teeth. Even hungrier and more vicious. I saw you turn your head to the monitor and groan out loud. You could see them pumping their cocks because of you and raping your pussy with their eyes.
One of them grunted and shook.
His cock spewed.
Wet sounds splashed thick on the floor.
Then another man was cumming. His moans were high and insistent. You pumped your hips upward in time with his voice. Was your pussy involuntarily trying to reach his cock? To swallow his pulsating sex inside you?
Two new men took their spent places. These were in bare feet. I saw the depravity of it. They were forced to stand in cum. To coat their feet in it. And it was only going to get worse. Another man screamed, “your fucking cunt! Your fucking cunt!!” And he was convulsing.
Two other cocks sprayed shortly after that. One of them ribboned high and splashed your stomach. That drove you wild. I could see the opening of your pussy gasping like a fish out of water. Your wetness flowed white over your ass and onto the table. The slick was getting ready to gather enough volume to flow down to the floor.
You were under total assault then. Cumming cocks. Lashes of words and liberties claiming every inch of your body. You were moaning with them. Your clit dove in and out of its swollen hood. Your hips were circling and circling.
The men were slipping in the sheet of cum now covering the floor. They swore at you. It was all your fault, you fucking cunt. And then women took spots as well. Their black pants were split at the crotch. They arrived with little stools so that with one foot up, they could better open and bare their pussies for ruthless flicks, strokes, and pulls at their engorged clits.
It became clear that the women were the wives of men who had already cum at your exposure and humiliation. Their words were cruel and angry, but their pussies were gushing as well. They talked of dominating you, punishing you, pinching you, licking you. And soon they were snapping and dancing erotic ballets as their pussies spasmed in feminine bliss.
Many many more footsteps echoed. It sounded like an army. The table lowered just in time for two dozen wagging cocks to arrive and surround you.
These men didn’t only comment on you. They praised you for stiffening the cocks all around them. They loved the sight of cock as well as your pussy. So much depraved sex at once was immense. Brutal. Soon, cum splashed down onto your body from all sides. Your tits. Your pussy. Your neck. Your face. Cocks were writhing and jumping and cumming. And you howled. Dear fucking god, you howled like I’ve never heard a human scream out before.
And then you came yourself from the hot shower of cum dripping and running all over you. It was the taste on your lips that broke you at last. And as you came like an animal you opened your mouth begging to taste more, more, (furious cocks splashing your lips), more.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ak0kk9/your_total_subjugation_and_humiliation