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Compassion Is A Way Of Being

Babes

I never knew his name; our hosts never told us. Neither did I know where they found him. He wasn’t the first young man who the posse of imperious dominants had provided for the entertainment and he wouldn’t be the last.The submissive character and accommodating nature of the sluts who brightened these parties always entranced me. They loved to serve; they lived to satisfy others. I adored that sentiment.They blindfolded him; a tight shiny black Latex top and matching glossy stockings covered his obvious muscular definitions on his torso and legs. Our hosts, who had a legendary status in the community, tied his thighs to his chest and his ankles to a frame above his head. His wrists were fastened to the sides of the padded bench, leaving him helpless. They shaved him too; his butt, his pubis, his scalp and all of his exposed flesh was as bare as the skin of a newborn baby. I think it made him sexier.His purpose at the all-male party was to be used; well over a hundred people received invitations to enjoy the entertainment the generous masters provided. It was an evening of rampant debauchery between consenting men, held every month in a vast converted warehouse. Some revellers came naked, isvecbahis others attired in their fetish wear of choice. A few had their clothing chosen by the masterful hosts.At nine o’clock, four happily married and “completely straight” husbands engaged in a bout of nude oil-wrestling, with the two losers destined to spend the entire party using their mouths to service the faceless pricks of dozens of men who wanted nothing more than a blow-job from the glory holes.At ten o’clock, three leather-clad tops did a whipping and spanking BDSM demonstration, unleashing torrents of wicked strikes against a submissive’s exposed skin until blood trickled down his milky white flesh and they heeded his blubbering, pleasure-filled screams for mercy.At eleven o’clock, the fisting show saw two young men bury their arms into the rectums of their elder partners. And as the clock struck midnight, five revellers recycled their beer into the willing mouths of three pantied piss-slaves, and then invited those present to empty their golden nectar into the overflowing mouths of the watersports fetishists, until the sissies could take no more.Alongside the outrageous shows and fully staffed glory isveçbahis giriş holes, were rows of bondage furniture and fetish equipment free for anyone to use. The near-naked submissive was in one corner, just another offer to sate the perversions of the oversexed guests. He was my favourite, and I spent the entire four hours watching the delicious and immobile twink.Men came to screw his lubed arse, sliding their cocks into his hairless hole, presented to them by his spread legs. Others slipped their bare pricks into his open mouth, ramming their erect dicks roughly past his thin lips and causing him to gag.The organisers had positioned him to serve everyone and anyone. No cock refused. No fuck declined. No choice given. He was merely a vessel for the horniness of dozens of hedonistic sons, fathers and uncles with no more rights than a Roman sex slave at their most indulgent of feasts.It was intoxicating. He had knowingly yielded his consent. He wanted to be treated no better than a discardable masturbatory sleeve where the dominant tops gave no concern for his pleasure. The desperate slut sought the dehumanising degradation, and the masters had offered him his depraved wish.I isveçbahis yeni giriş watched him take his first prick of the night as they confined the two losing oiled-up husbands to an evening of cock-sucking. An overweight man in his fifties clad in just a red football shirt sidled beside the twink and placed his tobacco-stained hands on the Latex thighs of the submissive. He eased his stout tool into the nicely presented hole.They both sighed; a mutual exhalation of enjoyment shared between two men. I stared, captivated by the movement of the hirsute buttocks, thrusting the member deep into the desperate bottom. The ripples of flesh as one body smashed into another, followed by a repeated slapping sound, aroused me. A metronomic beat of sodomy, punctuated by soft groans and orgasmic squeals.A second man pulled the slave’s head to the side and roughly filled his willing mouth with a short erect cock: an ideal size for a blow-job. I watched intently as the shaved slut’s lips worked that bare erection to a throbbing, pulsating orgasm that splashed cum over his chin.Throughout the night, this pattern continued; he sucked dozens of men, and he fucked many more. They came in all ages, all colours and all sizes; no man refused access to his holes or body. They touched him where they wanted, they used him with abandon. Splashes of white pearlescent liquid littered his skin, his Latex clothing and oozed across his face.

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