Slippnnthur - Untitled

I have this fantasy where a group of men that I trust a lot (friends, coworkers, etc) get me a little tipsy at an otherwise boring party or gathering and convince me to play the "Who is touching you?" game, except they neglect to tell me the rest of the rules until I'm already blindfolded with my hands tied around my back. The rules being, each man will take turns "touching" (kissing, groping, stripping...as far as they want to go), and I must guess who it is while blindfolded. If I guess correctly, they must stop immediately, and pass me to the next person. If I guess incorrectly, they get to continue until they cum, however they want to use me to get off. I am then passed to the next person and they will rejoin the que to go again.

Between the sting of betrayal of abused trust and humiliation of what is happening to me I would have to quickly guess whose turn it was to prevent myself from being raped and abused, but after a wrong guess here that leads to a violent blowjob until I'm choking on cock and sobs and a wrong guess there that has my nipples dripping in cum after a forced tit-fuck, it's so hard to focus and concentrate and answer quickly before things go too far that I make another mistake and there's nothing I can do to stop the mystery predator from putting himself inside me and shoving me full, moving my body up and down with his thrusts as the party watches, finishing his turn deep in my womb before passing me on to the next, woozy and mortified and trembled and in no shape to make any more correct guesses. . .

Forced orgasms and overstimulation pairs perfectly with a nice, cruel belt spanking. Hurting you while you cry and tremble and cum all over yourself like a good little toy. Covering your ass in pretty marks while you barely contain your yelps of pain and moans of pleasure. Harshly slapping your ass as you cum again and again, almost distracting you from your own pleasure with the stinging, intense pain. I just want you to cry while you cum for me, darling. Your pain is too precious.

“It’s just you and I tonight, why don’t you figure my heart out?”

— The 1975, Heart Out