Threesome and Submission at the Secret Wedding Party

That morning, Mara was unbearable. She had gotten up with a sour expression, and everything I said sounded wrong to her, even the dirty jokes that normally brought a smile to her face. Even so, angry and all, she was still stunning: the curves of a self-assured woman, strong legs, a generous chest, and that way she looked at me that always managed to make me nervous.

We argued over stupid things until I let slip that Vera was coming by shortly with a job proposal. I didn’t need to say anything else. Mara’s bad mood vanished within seconds, replaced by that slow, dangerous smile—the same one that had disarmed me years before.

She stepped into the shower and came out transformed. Black boots with slender heels, dark stockings, a short skirt, and a white blouse with more cleavage than any respectable meeting would allow. She applied her makeup calmly, straightened her hair, and sprayed on perfume as if she already knew that someone would end the night with their nose close to her neck.

Vera came in through the garden, as always. She had a key and that insolent habit of showing up without warning. She was tall, blonde, imposing, with a toned body and a confidence that filled any room before she even opened her mouth.

She was wearing tight dark-green trousers, heels, and a beige turtleneck sweater that hugged her torso. Everything about her seemed deliberate: her posture, her smile, the way she crossed her legs when she sat down. If you didn’t know her, all you saw was an elegant, dominant woman; I also knew how well-endowed she was and how easily she could turn any innocent conversation into an indecent proposition.

“I have a special assignment,” she said as soon as she settled in. “A private party during a wedding. Wealthy, discreet people who want to end the night without pretending to have manners.”

Mara leaned forward at once. I, on the other hand, felt the usual tug between arousal and doubt. Vera noticed and smiled patiently.

She explained that they wanted a sexual entertainment group to get the party started. Nothing improvised: a separate room, few guests, all adults, all informed, all looking for exactly the same thing. The idea was for us to initiate the game, break the tension, and let the others join in once the atmosphere was heated.

“We’re not going alone,” she added. “I want six people. One dominant man, another dominant trans woman, an experienced woman, the two of you, and me coordinating everything.”

Mara accepted before I had finished processing it. I nodded afterward, knowing that when Vera wore that expression, she already had half the show assembled in her head.

***

The next day, I went to Vera’s house after work. A solidly built, shaved-headed guy with tattooed arms opened the door. His T-shirt was so tight across his chest that it looked painted on. He introduced himself as Bruno and shook my hand firmly. His voice was deep and calm, but the pronounced bulge in his trousers and the way he looked me up and down made it clear that the man wasn’t there to serve drinks.

Everyone else was already inside. Vera made the introductions. The other dominant was Nora, a mature trans woman with striking beauty: straight black hair, full lips, a defined waist, and long legs ending in impossible heels. The third was Celia, a woman with broad hips, a big ass, small tits, and the mischievous look of someone who promised vice before the first touch.

“The plan is simple,” Vera said. “I’ll introduce everyone. Bruno and Nora come in dominating. Mara, Celia, and you wear collars, masks, and very little clothing. The game is offered, order is established, and then we let people loosen up.”

I was going to be feminized again, which excited Mara far more than she usually admitted aloud. Vera knew it, and that was why she looked at me as she said it, enjoying my expression somewhere between resigned and horny.

We spent hours fine-tuning details, rehearsing positions, safe words, limits, and the division of roles. Nothing was left to chance. There could be brutality, yes, but always within the agreement. That was precisely what made everything more exciting: knowing we were going to play hard, while knowing where control began and ended.

***

On the day of the party, a minibus picked us up and took us to a huge estate in the middle of the countryside. Music, laughter, and the confused murmur of hundreds of people celebrating could be heard from outside. When we entered through the private area, they guided us to a spacious dressing room with mirrors, drinks, showers, and a makeup team ready to make us look perfect.

We were told that several hundred guests were in the main area, but our performance would be for a smaller group. Even so, the atmosphere felt charged from a distance: alcohol, sweet smoke, expensive perfume, and that electricity that forms when a lot of people have been drinking for hours and are beginning to let go.

Getting ready was a spectacle in itself. Between showers, makeup, and changes of clothes, we ended up seeing one another naked without the slightest embarrassment. Bruno had a huge cock, thick and veined, and carried it with the insulting naturalness of someone who knew perfectly well what it provoked. Nora was no less impressive: her cock was long, heavy, and responded easily to any touch, as if her body were constantly demanding a fight.

Mara saw me looking at them and laughed. Then she came over, stroked my chin while a makeup artist touched up my eyes, and whispered in my ear:

“They’re going to use you so good tonight.”

That one sentence alone made me hard.

When we were finally ready, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized myself. I was wearing high heels, black thigh-high stockings, a leather miniskirt that covered almost nothing, a narrow thong, a padded blue corset, and a Venetian mask. Mara and Celia were dressed similarly, in leather bras and thongs, dark stockings, and heels. Bruno wore a harness, boots, and a single minimal piece of leather that barely contained anything. Nora was dressed entirely in black: corset, high boots, and a natural authority that needed no accessories.

Vera completed the group in a tight, short gold dress. She looked like a pagan goddess inviting disaster.

***

We entered amid smoke, red lights, and soft music. The room was intimate, filled with cushions, low sofas, and bodies that were already half undressed. There must have been about twenty people, men and women of various ages, all adults, all watching us hungrily.

Vera made the introductions in a firm, almost ceremonial voice. She offered the submissives, the dominants, the shared game, and reminded everyone that everything was voluntary as long as there was respect and mutual desire. That alone was enough to make the air grow thicker.

I don’t know when Bruno stopped pulling on my chain. I felt a new tug, and when I turned, I saw an exuberant brunette with enormous hips and a sharp gaze. Beside her stood a stocky man with a firm belly, curly hair down to his neck, and a generous bulge beneath his underwear. They led me to a corner with calm authority, as if they had already decided exactly what to do with me.

The woman made me turn in a circle and fondled my ass over the skirt. The man lifted my chin slightly to study me behind the mask. They weren’t in a hurry, and perhaps that was why I became even more nervous.

“Stay still,” she ordered.

I obeyed.

From there I could catch glimpses of the rest of the room. Mara was already spread-legged on a sofa while Celia knelt between her thighs and licked her pussy hungrily. Behind her, Nora held Mara’s hair and thrust her cock into her mouth at a steady pace, forcing her to alternate moans with gags. Two men watched up close, one fondling a tit and the other jerking off without looking away.

Seeing that sent a jolt through me. My cock showed through the thong, and the woman holding my chain noticed immediately. She smiled, gave one of my buttocks a sharp slap, and made me gasp.

“That’s what I like. Watching and getting yourself worked up like a slut.”

They forced me to kneel. The man stood in front of me and pulled out his cock: big, heavy, with a broad, shiny head. He rubbed it against my lips. I opened my mouth without waiting for a second order.

It entered slowly at first, just the tip, smearing my tongue. It tasted clean, of perfume and hot skin. I started sucking him eagerly, moving my head up and down, drooling heavily, wrapping my lips around the shaft. He let out a short growl and grabbed my hair.

Behind me, the woman lifted my skirt and moved my thong aside. First I felt her fingers spreading my cheeks, then her tongue directly on my anus. She didn’t tease me: she licked me deeply and insistently, pushing the tip in again and again until she loosened me up. I moaned with my mouth full of cock, and that made the man thrust it deeper.

“Swallow, sweetheart,” he murmured.

He pushed me until he touched my throat. My eyes filled with tears, but I kept sucking, breathing through my nose, letting myself be used. Behind me, her tongue moved down to my balls, sucked them one by one, took them into her mouth, and returned to my ass with a voracity that left me trembling.

My cock was already stiff and throbbing inside the thong. The woman pulled it out sharply and began jerking me off with one hand while opening me wider with the other. Then I felt the head of her man’s cock press between my cheeks.

“Relax,” he said. “It’s going in.”

The tip pushed against my anus, and I tensed all over. He didn’t wait long. He pressed steadily, opening me inch by inch, until suddenly I gave way and half his cock was inside me. The cry I let out was lost against the cock still in my mouth.

That was when the real punishment began. The man in front fucked my throat, holding my hair and chin, setting a hard rhythm. The one behind rammed my ass with short, sharp thrusts, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in with such force that my knees slammed against the padded floor. The woman alternated between kissing me, pushing her tongue into my mouth wet with saliva and another man’s cum, and pinching my nipples through the corset.

It was too much. Too much noise, too much flesh, too much wetness. And at the same time I wanted more.

I looked up between thrusts and saw Mara. She was still on the sofa, but now she was riding a sturdy man, fucking him with her pussy open and glistening, while another offered his cock to her mouth. Mara sucked it without delicacy, her mask askew and her mascara running, as if she had been born to be watched that way. Nora held her by the neck from behind and forced her to keep the rhythm.

Seeing my wife turned into that sent a brutal surge through my belly.

The man fucking my ass noticed, because he slapped me ferociously and began driving into me faster. Every blow opened me wider, lifting my body and drawing hoarse moans from me. The man in front let me breathe for only a few seconds; the woman took advantage of it by climbing in front of my face and spreading her pussy with her fingers.

“Lick it.”

I obeyed immediately. I slipped my tongue between her swollen lips, gathering her thick wetness, sucking her clitoris while they kept fucking me from behind. She held my head with both hands and began rubbing herself against my mouth. Her pussy was hot and slippery, and she came easily when I found the right spot. She writhed, pressed herself against me, and let out deep moans each time I closed my lips around her clitoris.

The cock behind me didn’t slow down. On the contrary. The man began going deeper, at a brutal pace, striking my prostate with every thrust. My arms buckled. The mixture of pain, pleasure, and humiliation left me on the edge.

“He’s going to come,” the woman said, laughing.

And she was right. A few more thrusts, my face buried in her pussy, and her hand clutching my hair were enough to make me come like an animal. Semen spurted over the floor and my own thighs. They didn’t even touch my cock at that moment; I came solely from the way they were using me.

The man behind me didn’t stop. He kept fucking me while the spasms lasted, drawing a full-body tremor from me. The man in front put his cock back in my mouth, and this time he didn’t take long. He became completely hard, shoved the head down my throat, and exploded inside. I felt his thick, abundant cum fill my mouth while the woman squeezed my nose to force me to swallow. I did it in convulsions, tears in my eyes and semen running down my chin.

The woman crouched down to lick my mouth, gathering whatever spilled out, and kissed me obscenely, giving me some of the taste back.

“You obey so well,” she whispered.

The man fucking my ass began panting behind me. He gripped my hips harder, spread my cheeks wider, and gave me a series of violent, deep, wet thrusts. Then he stayed buried to the hilt and came. I felt him hot and pulsing inside me as he filled me with short grunts, his belly pounding against my ass.

It took him a few seconds to pull out. When he did, a thread of semen ran down my thigh.

***

They left me on my knees for a moment to recover. I could barely get my breathing under control, but I was still aroused. In that room everything was excessive. To my left, Bruno was receiving a double blowjob from two mature women while a third person, a tall, muscular man, was pounding his ass with steady calm. Bruno, that human wardrobe, moaned with his head thrown back as he jerked himself off and finally came across the women’s breasts and faces.

Near the center, Vera had cornered Celia against a sofa. She pulled her hair and gave her controlled slaps while penetrating her from behind with her hard cock. Celia was on all fours, ass raised, moaning like a sow, while a woman lying beneath her licked her pussy from below and a man put his cock in her mouth. It was an obscene and beautiful image at once: Celia trapped between three pleasures, covered in hands, saliva, and orders.

I kept watching Mara. She was no longer on the sofa. I found her on the carpet, lying on her back with her legs spread and her mask almost off. Celia was sitting on her face, rubbing her pussy against my wife’s mouth while a dark-haired boy fucked her from behind. Mara also had another man straddling her chest, and she was sucking his cock with savage eagerness, using both hands to hold it while her tongue worked the head.

I approached, guided more by desire than reason. Mara saw me, pulled the cock barely away from her mouth, and gave me a wet, filthy, happy smile.

“Come here,” she ordered, panting.

Nora appeared beside me as if she had been waiting for that moment. She grabbed my collar, put me on my knees beside Mara, and lowered my head toward Celia’s pussy, which was still riding on my wife’s face. I understood at once. I began licking Celia’s ass while Mara ate her pussy. Between the two of us, we had her trembling.

Nora soon pulled out her cock. She put it in front of my face and forced me to open my mouth. While I sucked her, she positioned herself behind Mara and rubbed the head against her wet mouth.

“Suck both things, slut,” she told Mara.

My wife obeyed happily. Celia staggered away after coming, and then I saw Mara’s pussy open, shiny, and swollen from so much use. A man tried to position himself between her legs, but Nora dismissed him with a look and pointed at me.

“Now you.”

She put on a condom with quick hands, made me position myself between Mara’s thighs, and guided my cock to her entrance. I was hard again, still sensitive from everything that had come before, and when I pushed inside, I felt Mara take me with a long moan. She was soaked, open, and hot. The first thrust alone drew a growl from me.

“Harder,” she asked. “Fuck me properly.”

I needed no more. I began thrusting hard, gripping her thighs, watching her tits bounce inside the leather bra. Mara looked at me through her mask with a mixture of tenderness and pure vice. She knew me too well; she knew that being used pushed me to the limit, and now she wanted to finish me off.

She brought two fingers slick with my saliva to her clitoris and began rubbing herself while I pounded her. Nora positioned herself behind me and spat on my lower back before spreading my cheeks and sliding a lubricated finger into my ass. The effect was immediate: my vision blurred. I kept fucking Mara while Nora worked me from behind, first with one finger, then with two, opening me again and stroking my prostate exactly as I needed.

Mara saw my face and came before I did. She squeezed my cock with her pussy, arched her back, and trembled all over, letting out a muffled cry. I didn’t stop thrusting. I wanted more. So did she.

“Don’t stop,” she said. “Put it all the way in.”

I obeyed. I drove my cock into her again and again, feeling the wet sound of our hips mixing with the moans of the others. Nora then placed her cock against my anus, already opened by her fingers, and began inserting the tip.

The contrast was savage. In front, Mara’s pussy squeezed me. Behind, Nora opened me again with cruel slowness. She entered slowly, controlling every inch, until she had it fully inside. I stayed motionless for a second, pierced by both pleasures.

“Now move,” Nora ordered.

I did. I began fucking Mara while Nora fucked me. Each thrust from one answered the other’s. It was an obscene, perfect rhythm, as if the three of us had rehearsed for weeks. Mara spread her legs wider, grabbed my ass, and forced me to bury myself in her to the hilt. I shouted, she moaned, and Nora panted behind me, her pelvis pounding against my buttocks.

We lasted like that for several minutes, completely lost. Mara asked me to put my fingers in her mouth. I did, and she began sucking them while I penetrated her, staring at me without blinking. Nora grabbed my neck and sped up. Pleasure climbed my spine like fire.

I came inside the condom in a brutal spasm, buried in my wife’s pussy while Nora’s cock kept pumping in my ass. Mara came again almost at the same time when she felt me, squeezing me with her legs. Nora took a few seconds longer; then she tensed, bit my shoulder, and came inside me with hoarse moans.

We remained joined for a moment, sweaty and panting, unable to speak.

***

The party continued for quite a while, by then without any need for direction. Everyone was wherever they wanted to be, changing partners, joining a sofa, kneeling in a corner, or watching while touching themselves. Vera moved through the room like a satisfied queen, sometimes imposing order, sometimes joining a scene simply for pleasure.

Mara and I ended up sitting on a low sofa, catching our breath while Celia kissed us both in turn. Our bodies were marked by other people’s hands, our makeup was smeared, and we smelled of sex, wrapped in that heavy calm that comes after a major upheaval. Nora approached with a glass of water for each of us and stroked my face with unexpected tenderness.

“You held up very well,” she said.

Mara laughed, bit my shoulder, and added:

“I told you this morning they were going to use you so good.”

I slipped my hand between her thighs, and she was still sensitive, wet, and throbbing. She held it there for a second, squeezing, as if she wanted to take a physical souvenir of everything that had happened.

On the way home, in the minibus, no one talked much. Bruno slept with his head tipped back. Celia was barefoot, wrapped in a blanket. Nora gazed out the window with her lipstick half rubbed off. Vera smiled silently, satisfied with her handiwork.

Mara rested her head on my shoulder and ran her hand over my crotch, where I could still feel a sweet, deep throb.

“When we get home,” she murmured, “I want you to tell me which part was your favorite. And then I want to repeat a little part of it with you, alone.”

I looked at her and smiled. After a night like that, I knew we still weren’t finished.