The Night My Master Handed Me Over to Strangers

I arrived at the Grand Palace parking lot almost two hours late. I looked at myself in the rearview mirror: smeared mascara, swollen lips, disheveled hair. I tried to fix myself with what I had in my bag, but it was pointless. I smelled like sex and guilt, and no perfume in the world was going to hide it.

Marcos was going to be furious. And that, as ashamed as I am to admit it, made my pussy wet just thinking about it.

I got out of the car and walked toward the entrance. The sound of my heels on the asphalt echoed in the night silence. Each step brought me closer to him, and each step lit something inside me that I had spent years trying to understand.

My name is Lucía. I’m thirty-four, I work at a consulting firm, and no one in my normal life would ever suspect what I do on Friday nights. No one would imagine that a woman like me, in her tailored jacket and neatly ordered schedule, kneels before a man, sucks his cock, and calls him “sir.” But that’s how it is. And this is my confession.

***

It all started a year ago, when I met Marcos on an app I’m not going to name. His profile was direct: he was looking for a submissive, obedient woman willing to explore her limits. For months I had been fantasizing about that, reading stories in secret on my phone, sliding my fingers into my cunt in the darkness of my room while imagining someone fucking me without asking permission.

The first time we met, he made me kneel as soon as he closed the door to his apartment. He didn’t touch me. He just looked down at me for a full minute in silence while I trembled, my forehead almost against the carpet. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, almost kind.

—You’re going to do exactly what I tell you. If at any point you want to stop, say “crystal” and everything stops. Understood?

—Yes, sir.

I never said “crystal.” Not that night, when he ended up coming on my face after making me suck him for an hour, and not any other night either.

***

I knocked on room four-twelve and waited. Voices could be heard inside, deep laughter. My heart was pounding in my throat. Marcos had told me there would be guests that night, but he didn’t give me any more details. With him there were never any details. Only orders.

The door opened and there he was, in his black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and that look that stripped me bare before I could even speak.

—You’re late —he said without moving from the threshold.

—I’m sorry, sir. I got held up at work and then traffic...

—I’m not interested in excuses.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. The hallway was short and smelled like scented candles. At the back, the suite opened into a large living room with dark leather sofas and low lighting that turned everything into golden shadows.

Two men were seated on the sofa. They went quiet as soon as they saw me. I glanced at them from the corner of my eye while Marcos guided me with a firm hand on my lower back. They were tall, broad-shouldered, with that confidence men have when they know exactly how they want to fuck you.

—Kneel —Marcos ordered.

I obeyed. My knees sank into the carpet and I lowered my gaze the way he’d taught me. The silence filled with breathing and the rustle of fabric as the two strangers stood up. I saw the hard bulges in their pants, and my mouth watered.

—This is Diego. And this is Adrián —Marcos said with the same casualness he’d use to introduce coworkers at an office meeting.

I felt a hand on my chin, forcing my face up. Diego was looking down at me with a half-smile. Adrián had moved to the other side, and I could feel the heat of his body near my cheek.

—A pleasure —I whispered, my voice rough and broken by anticipation.

Marcos laughed softly.

—You don’t know what pleasure is yet, pet. But you’re going to learn tonight. They’re going to fuck you until you forget your name.

***

The first thing they did was take off my clothes. Not gently, not carefully. Marcos yanked down the zipper of my dress while Diego ripped it off my shoulders and Adrián finished pulling it down over my hips. In seconds I was naked except for my heels, which Marcos always made me keep on. My breasts trembled with every breath, my nipples so hard they hurt. Between my legs, my shaved cunt showed, shining from how wet I already was.

—She isn’t wearing anything underneath —Adrián observed, dragging two fingers along the inside of my thigh and up until he brushed my pussy lips—. And she’s drenched.

—Because she knows what’s good for her —Marcos replied, and he grabbed my hair hard, throwing my head back—. Right, Lucía? This slut came prepared because she knows we’re going to use her up.

—Yes, sir.

The cold air in the room raised goosebumps on my skin. I felt three pairs of eyes roaming my body, lingering on my tits, dropping to the shining slit between my legs, and instead of shame, what I felt was a liquid heat sliding from my chest down into my belly. That was what nobody understood, what I myself took years to accept: being looked at turned me on, being exposed, being reduced to a cunt other people wanted to penetrate.

Marcos led me to the bedroom by my hair. The other two walked behind us, and I knew they were looking at my ass, so I walked slowly, arching my back, letting my hips move with each step. It was the only thing I could control at that moment, and I wanted it to be worth it.

The room was full of candles. Dozens of them, placed on every surface, casting trembling shadows over the walls. The bed was huge, with a wrought-iron headboard from which leather cuffs hung on chains.

Oh my God, I thought. This is serious.

—To the edge of the bed. Back to us, with your ass up high —Marcos said.

I obeyed. I stood there with my hands on the mattress, bent at the waist, legs slightly apart and my ass sticking out. I felt someone kneel behind me and fasten a leather cuff around my left ankle. Then the right. The chains were taut and forced me to keep my legs open at an obscene angle, leaving my cunt and ass completely exposed for any of the three of them.

The feeling of leather against my skin tore a moan from me I couldn’t hold back. There was something about being tied up, about knowing I couldn’t close my legs or pull away, that emptied my mind of everything except one thought: I wanted to be fucked. I wanted my cunt filled, my mouth filled, every hole if necessary. I wanted to feel open.

Marcos ran his fingers along the inside of my thighs, moving slowly, barely brushing me. When he reached my cunt, he shoved two fingers in to the knuckle without warning. He twisted them inside me, searching for that rough spot that made me lose my mind, and the wet sound they made going in and out was so obscene that I blushed all over. My knees gave way and I had to grip the sheets to keep from falling.

—She’s dripping —he told the others, pulling his fingers out and showing them shining in the candlelight, smeared with my juices up to his palm—. She arrives late and then shows up this wet. This slut’s cunt is leaking like a fountain. What do we do with her?

—We start using her —said Diego in a rough voice.

I heard him unbuckle his belt behind me. The metallic sound of the buckle, the zipper coming down, fabric falling to the floor. I felt his erection press against my ass, hot and hard, much thicker than I expected. He rubbed it up and down along the cleft of my ass, smearing it with the dampness running down my thighs, and when the head slipped between my pussy lips and stayed there, right at the entrance, I moaned with pure impatience.

—Please —I said before I could stop myself—. Please, sir.

—Please what? —Marcos’s voice sounded amused, almost cruel—. Ask for it. Ask for it with all the words, or they won’t put it in you.

—Please, put it in me. Fuck my pussy. I need it inside. I need it all the way in. Please, sir, fuck me now.

Diego didn’t wait any longer. He entered me in one single thrust, long and brutal, burying his cock all the way to the balls. I felt him opening me centimeter by centimeter, felt the walls of my cunt adjusting to the thickness of his cock, and the cry that escaped me bounced off the room’s walls. He was enormous, much thicker than I had anticipated, and the feeling of being filled to the brim while tied up and helpless took me to a mental place where nothing else existed. There was no consulting firm, no schedule, no tailored jacket. There was only me, legs spread, with a stranger fucking me as if I were a doll, taking each thrust as if it were exactly what my body had been waiting for all week.

He began moving with a slow rhythm at first, pulling almost all the way out and then driving back in to the hilt, slamming into my cervix with each push. He held my hips with both hands and I could feel his fingers digging into my flesh, leaving marks I would carry for days. Each thrust tore a sharper moan from me than the last, and my breasts bounced against the mattress in time with his cock going in and out of my cunt.

Marcos climbed onto the bed in front of me and knelt. He lifted my chin with one hand and used the other to pull down his zipper. He took out his cock and it was rock hard, long, with a thick vein throbbing underneath and the head shining with pre-cum. He ran it over my lips like a brush, painting them while I opened my mouth, panting.

—Open. More. Stick out your tongue.

I obeyed. He shoved it all the way down my throat in one single motion, gripping my hair with both hands so I couldn’t pull away. I choked, felt the head bump against my uvula, and tears sprang to my eyes, but I didn’t want to let go. I breathed through my nose like he’d taught me and started moving my tongue in circles under the frenulum while Diego kept spearing me from behind at a pace that was driving me crazy. Marcos’s cock was pounding my throat and Diego’s was wrecking my cunt at the same time, and I heard both of them gasping, grunting, calling me a bitch under their breath.

Adrián moved beside me and pinched one of my nipples hard, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger until the pain mixed with pleasure in a way only someone like me can understand. With the other hand he pulled out his cock and started jerking it beside my face, inches from my cheek. I screamed against Marcos’s flesh, and the muffled sound made all three of them laugh.

—That’s what I like —Marcos said, loosening his grip on my hair a little—. Look at me while he fucks you. Don’t forget who’s in charge here. Don’t forget who lent you to his friends.

I didn’t forget. I never forgot.

***

I lost count of how many times I came. The first orgasm hit me while I was still tied at the edge of the bed, with Diego buried to the hilt and Marcos fucking my throat. I felt my cunt clenching around Diego’s cock, squeezing it, milking it, and he let out a low groan that told me he was close. But he didn’t finish. He yanked it out at once, leaving my cunt open and throbbing, empty, and the three of them untied my ankles so they could put me on the bed on my back.

They spread my legs again. Diego got between them and drove back into me, this time face-to-face, while I sucked Adrián’s cock over my head in a position that forced me to swallow his whole shaft each time he pushed his hips forward. Marcos grabbed my wrists and held them above my head, immobilizing me, while he sucked one nipple and then the other, biting them until I writhed.

When Diego came inside me with a long, deep groan, I felt the warm semen spilling into my cunt, filling it, sliding down when he pulled out. That was enough to trigger another orgasm that left me shaking, unable to hold myself up on my elbows. I felt the cum dripping down between my thighs, staining me and the sheets.

Adrián took his place without giving me time to recover. He turned me over, put me on all fours, and fucked me from behind in one single stroke, burying his cock in a cunt that was already leaking Diego’s semen. The feeling of his cock forcing its way through the remnants of the other man’s cum was so obscene that I came again without warning, screaming into the pillow. Diego climbed onto the bed in front of me, still hard, and offered me his cock smeared with semen and my own cunt juices. I sucked it clean, licking it from top to bottom, tasting the salty, thick mixture while Adrián fucked me with thrusts so brutal they shoved me forward with every push.

Marcos sat in an armchair watching, stroking his cock with slow movements, enjoying the spectacle he had orchestrated. Every so often he gave me an order: “Harder,” “Shut up,” “Swallow it whole, bitch.” And I obeyed. I always obeyed.

Adrián came over my ass, spilling thick streams of semen onto my cunt and lower back. Marcos came closer and spread it with his hand, smearing his friend’s cum over me like oil before sliding into me himself, slipping into a cunt that was already ruined, stretched, filled to the edge.

Then he said the words that changed everything.

—Lucía, I have a surprise for you.

I lifted my head, still with him moving inside me. The bedroom door opened and I heard footsteps. Many footsteps. I turned my head and saw them coming in one after another. Five, eight, ten men. Maybe more. I couldn’t count them. They lined up against the walls of the room, unbuckling their belts, pulling out their cocks, jerking them already hard while they looked at me with a hunger that chilled my blood.

The desire I had felt up to that moment turned into something like panic. It was one thing to be with three men I knew, men who followed Marcos’s rules. Quite another to be in a room full of strangers with their cocks in their hands and their eyes locked on my open cunt.

—Marcos, no —I said, and my voice sounded high, almost childish—. This isn’t what we agreed. Please.

—Relax, pet. They all know the rules. No one’s going to hurt you. They’re just going to enjoy you, and you’re going to enjoy them. Or are you going to tell me this isn’t what you’ve always wanted? A room full of cocks just for you?

I stayed quiet. Because part of me, the part that had spent years hidden beneath the orderly professional woman, knew he was right. I had fantasized about this hundreds of times. I had come alone in my bed imagining exactly this scene: a room full of men, me in the center, unable to escape, not wanting to escape, all my holes filled at once.

But fantasy and reality are different things. In fantasy you don’t tremble. In fantasy your mouth doesn’t go dry. In fantasy you don’t look your master in the eyes searching for a sign that everything is going to be okay.

Marcos came over to me and kissed my forehead. It was the tenderest gesture he had given me in a year together.

—Trust me —he whispered.

And I did.

***

They unclipped the cuffs and lifted me to the center of the bed. Four hands held my wrists against the mattress, two more spread my legs to a brutal angle. Someone slipped a pillow under my hips to raise me up and offer my cunt on a platter. I felt unfamiliar fingers exploring me, opening my lips, sinking inside, checking how ruined and wet I was.

The first man in the group entered me without preamble. He was rough, fast, impatient. His cock was short but thick, and he drove it into me to the balls in a single thrust. Another knelt beside my face and turned my head toward him, pressing the head of his cock against my lips until I opened my mouth. I closed my eyes and let him shove it down my throat. It tasted like salt and sweat.

From there everything became blurred. Not in the sense that I don’t remember it, but in the sense that my mind stopped processing each stimulus separately. Everything fused into a mass of sensations: hands kneading my tits, mouths sucking my nipples, cocks going in and out of my cunt one after another without pause, while another cock fucked my mouth at the same rhythm. The weight of one body on top of mine replaced by another and then another. The salt of sweat on my lips. The metallic taste of semen that had already spilled onto my tongue. The thick, animal smell filling the room. My own moans, no longer under my control, mixed with the grunts of men whose faces I couldn’t see.

I came so many times I stopped noticing the boundary between one orgasm and the next. My cunt would not stop clenching, milking every cock that entered it, and the men took turns, emptying themselves inside me or over me, on my belly, on my tits, on my face, in my hair. I felt semen running down between my thighs in hot streams, and when one finished and stepped away, the next one slid into the same dripping cunt without even waiting for me to be cleaned up.

At one point they put me on all fours and two men fucked me at once, one in my mouth and one in my cunt, syncing themselves to spear me from both sides at the same rhythm. When one finished, there was always another waiting his turn, cock in hand, jerking himself to stay hard. I lost count. Of everything. Of the orgasms, the cocks, the faces, the time. I only know that at some point I stopped being afraid and let myself go completely. My body became something that didn’t belong to me, and instead of terrifying me, that idea freed me. I didn’t have to think. I didn’t have to decide. I only had to open my mouth, spread my legs, and let them use me.

And I felt more than I had ever felt in my entire life.

***

When I opened my eyes, the room was empty. Only Marcos was left, sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping my body with a damp towel with a tenderness that contrasted with everything that had happened that night. He was cleaning the dried semen from my face, my neck, between my breasts, from my thighs. The towel came away dirty and he rinsed it in a basin and started again.

—Are you okay? —he asked.

I stared at the ceiling. The candles had almost burned down completely and the room smelled like melted wax and cum. Everything hurt. I had marks on my wrists, on my thighs, on my neck, on my tits. My cunt throbbed in a mix of pleasure and exhaustion, open, empty, still dripping what they’d left inside me. But inside, I felt a strange calm, like after a storm.

—Yes —I said—. I’m fine.

I didn’t tell him I had recorded everything. I found out weeks later, when I discovered a flash drive in his jacket with a video longer than three hours. I should have been furious. I should have called the police, reported him, erased him from my life forever.

But what I did was sit on my bed in the dark, with my fingers buried in my cunt, and watch the whole thing.

And when it ended, I played it again from the beginning.

***

I don’t know if I’ll ever stop looking for what Marcos gives me. I don’t know if I want to leave him. I know it’s wrong, I know it’s dangerous, I know that if anyone in my circle found out, they’d look at me with a mixture of horror and pity. But I also know that nothing else in my life has ever made me feel as alive as kneeling before him, opening my mouth, and saying “yes, sir.”

This is my confession. I’m not looking for absolution. I just needed someone to know.