Humiliating treatment
I was sitting in the bedroom, my legs tucked cozily under me, touching up my eyelashes, trying to outdo the magazine model proudly showing off her short pleated skirt on the spread, when my boyfriend Vovka's loud voice called me to the living room.
Vovka and his bosom buddy Hammer had been hacking away at some online game for a good hour. They were joined by a guy I didn't know, who looked very young, even without any trace of a shave on his cheeks. It seemed Vovka and Hammer were playing on the same team, but the kid was keeping up, judging by Hammer's irritated remarks. Vovka, as befits the host, was sprawled in the spacious armchair, which had been
the most expensive item in our modest home furnishings. Besides my boyfriend, the only one allowed to sit in that chair was Vovka's ancient cat, and even then only when no one was home. The guests got the modular sofa, which had convenient armrests you know what for. Spotting me, the guys tore themselves away from their laptops and stared with familiar anticipation of a lewd performance.Obediently following the instruction, I looked pleadingly into Vovka's face, slipping my head between his slightly parted legs. He remained implacable, somewhat jadedly fingering my most intimate folds with his left hand, while he himself studied the guys who had fallen silent and were slightly taken aback. Finally, giving my ass a resounding slap, Vovka ordered:
— Service Dimon!
Dimon, not expecting such a sharp turn, immediately broke into a foolish grin, looking like a pimply eighteen-year-old teenager. The grin wasn't easy to overcome, so Vovka had time to enjoy the spicy moment.
— You've got a good girl! — was all Dimon managed to squeeze out, trying to look confident and relaxed.
In my boyfriend's slang, 'service' meant to please fully, taking into account, so to speak, all the client's whims. Dimon, finally believing his luck, sprawled on the sofa with his fly unzipped, examining the tits carefully presented for his attention.
— Do you prefer to start with a blowjob? — I inquired as ingratiatingly as possible. It was better not to think about how submissive and wet a bitch I looked from the side right now.
— Go for it, chick.
Plonking down on my knees, as befitted my position, I took the head of his protruding cock into my mouth and began to .o.rg tease the frenulum, slightly increasing pressure on the back surface. With one hand I held Dimon's balls, and with the other I hitched up my uniform sundress. I had been taught long ago that sucking must be done with an open ass. As it turned out, Dimon wasn't such a kid after all: he started snorting powerfully, grabbed my hair, and pulled me towards him. The cock provided for servicing was not small at all, and I had to try hard to swallow it whole. My master, meanwhile, wound my recently touched-up, playfully reddish ponytail around his wrist and began to pound my mouth hard. My frothy saliva, seasoned with his pre-cum, didn't keep me waiting and dripped abundantly onto the sofa upholstery. Dimon seemed to have completely forgotten about me, engrossed solely in his own sensations. The pace of the pounding rapidly accelerated until my vision darkened. With my last strength, I tried to keep my lips pursed so as not to accidentally bite the male member.
Apparently bored, Hammer came up from behind and whipped me on the back of my thigh with a crop — a bruise was guaranteed.
— Put in some effort, slut!
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vovka sprawled in the armchair and chuckling proprietorially at what was happening. If there was one thing Vovka never suffered from, it was greed, so sharing his trained girlfriend with his buddies was more than par for the course. Glancing at Hammer, persistently trying to push an unlubricated finger into my ass, while kneading my buttocks with his free hand, he only smiled slightly and must have been thinking about something of his own.
Finally, after another deep suck from me, Dimon came. Without letting go of my hair, he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, like a mangy kitten, and pulled me so that my nose pressed against his hairy pubic area. The thrusts of the erupting cock reverberated through my whole body. I swallowed as often as I could, but still a few drops accidentally escaped my mouth. Vovka certainly wouldn't pat my head for that! He had repeatedly said that you need to suck it dry, and then polish the satisfied cock to a shine. Trying not to think about the impending reprimand, I began to lick Dimon's gradually softening tool, with my free hand trying to gently massage his scrotum.
While I crawled on all fours and licked up the splattered male fluid mixed with my own drool, Hammer and Dimon groped me wherever they could. My cheeks were burning, and my pussy continued to flow, as if, say, I had been put on display naked at a school assembly in front of a nastily guffawing mob. I was completely overwhelmed when Hammer abruptly inserted three fingers and twisted them inside to the full extent of a turned angle.
— Can I piss in her mouth? — Dimon's voice brought me out of nirvana; he must have gotten completely cocky and was trying to grab the maximum.
— Okay, use her, — Vovka graciously permitted and added, — but only in the shower, — apparently deciding that Dimon intended to mess up our entire living room.
Dimon kicked me under the butt, not too hard but insistently, and I ran to the bathroom to prepare for a new ordeal. Well, if he likes it that much, I'll have to shove the remnants of my pride somewhere and endure it. The thought of contradicting my boyfriend's decision was impossible to even consider.
In the shower, I got on my knees so that my half-open mouth was roughly at the level of Dimon's cock. With both hands, I lifted the hem of my sundress, trying to obey the rules established by Vovka and present myself to the guys in all my glory. Dimon's warm stream didn't keep me waiting, hitting me viciously in the nose area, causing me to choke instantly, but I overpowered myself and didn't turn my face away. Dimon pulled back the foreskin more and aimed again — this time I almost had to swallow, but I twisted away: after rinsing the nasty liquid in my throat, I discreetly spat it onto the floor. Dimon seemed genuinely turned on by the submissiveness and the gaze directed at him from below. He continued to sort of play with the kneeling bitch, deliberately aiming at my hair, then my eye, then my mouth again, so that by the end I looked completely wrecked, with mascara smeared all over my face and half-wet, drooping hair. Shaking off the last drops and finally slapping his cock against my chin mockingly, Dimon pulled up his pants and demonstratively left the bathroom. Vovka and Hammer followed him, leaving me alone with myself, to wash the sundress that had witnessed my humiliations in the sink. By morning, it had to be like new.
Who wants a continuation, write in the comments)))
Sincerely yours, ^^Yulia^^