them spooks

I wake up groggy, head pounding, limbs restrained, mouth gagged. The cold metal of the examination table bites into my skin as I squirm against the thick leather straps pinning my wrists and ankles down.

He leans over me, eyes burning with sadistic amusement. I whine behind the gag, mouth too stuffed to make any coherent noises. His fingers trail along my inner thigh, humming a playful tune before giving my flesh a sharp, stinging pinch. "Look who decided to wake up!" He tilts his head, grinning. "Took you long enough, I was getting bored waiting."

but, consider: romantic gangbang. being deeply in love with the four people fucking you. we’re all here for your pleasure, for your emotional satisfaction as well as physical. showering you with love and adoration and affection and praise as we worship every inch of you. us working together to maximize your pleasure, cooperating with the goal of getting you so utterly lost in it you feel like you are just floating on a cloud.

you just lie back and close your eyes, having no idea whose fingers or tongue or cock is in you at any given time. you don’t know who is currently sucking and biting your nipples, or who is kissing your neck and pushing their fingers into your mouth, or who is taking a fistful of your hair and turning you toward them to plant a kiss on your head. you don’t bother to figure out whose cock is thrusting into you with vigor, or whose tongue presses against your clit shortly after they pull out. you just know you are in a room with 4 people who would do anything for you.

and of course, it's even worse if you set it up. if you got super horny and told it to go hard. if you told it you wanted hours and then it pinned you down and it's 15 minutes in and you know you've made a mistake

So now you’re at the mercy of what they want of you for 24 hours. You expect it to start right away, but no. They point out that it wasn’t said that it had to start right away. As a matter of fact, they point out, you’d never said it had to be a continuous 24 hours, either - that wouldn’t be fair, since they didn’t want you to lose out on sleep over this.

What they want from you is very simple. They own a bar, they’d like to get some more traffic to it, and you’re going to be the perfect tool for that.

The first hour is spent taking a few promotional photos at their bar. You try to argue that putting them anywhere would be outside of the 24 hours, they argue that you won’t be spending time on it, you try to argue further but they just say fine, then they want you to sign a form to allow them to post the photos. You barely had a leg to stand on before but they’ve just solidified it, and another half hour is spent taking lewder photos “just in case”.

A week later you’re back at their bar. It takes a half hour to get you into your uniform for the night, which consists of lacy crotchless underwear, heels, and a see-through apron to hold packets of lube and condoms. It only takes that long because they also have you shave. You’re to spend the next six hours walking around like that, taking drink orders as well as delivering drinks. You’re also, of course, free for customers to use however they’d like, so long as they’ve bought a drink.

It’s the busiest night the bar’s had in a while. You’re lucky that for the most part the patrons are gentle with you, but you’re still flushed with embarrassment because you can feel the way they look at you, cum dripping out of you as you take their orders throughout the night. People buy you drinks, too, and at least that helps you lose some of your nervousness.

Eight hours down, sixteen to go.

The next seven hours are spent with you tied back-down on a table, legs spread wide and head dangling off the edge. You’re at the perfect height to be fucked and to eat people out. You can barely move with how secure your friend’s gotten you tied up, and there are more rough customers that night. You’re not sure if it’s because you can’t even try to move away from a slap, or if it’s because it’s not the first time you’ve been there, or what other reason there may be. It doesn’t matter much, though, because the end result is still you getting more and more sore, barely able to catch a break.

Someone hits you so hard that you tear up and they do it again and again until you’re crying, pinching your reddened skin as they fuck you just because they can. It feels freeing. All you have to do is lay there and take it and muffle your cries by focusing on the cunt presented to your face, hands tangled in your hair holding your head against them as you suck on their clit.

for the captain of the guard to step forward and let their rough gloved hands pull and tease and bruise my soft untouched skin. for them to roughly grab my chin and force me to make eye contact as their hand dips between my legs for the first time, rubbing my clit far more harshly than i’ve ever done with my own fingers. for them to undo their belt as my attitude dissolves and i beg them to stop, telling them they can do whatever they want with their hands but please nothing else. they ignore me, of course.

for every knight in the room to see me utterly broken on their leader’s cock, eventually giving up the struggle because it feels as good as it is rough. for them to make me finish, crying out as i cum harder than i ever have. for them to decide that they may not ask for a ransom at all, that the price for their new royal bedwarmer is far higher than my kingdom could imagine paying.

"We can begin. Release the specimen."

Something cold and wet glides between my sensitive folds - the speculum they used for the initial examination was removed for the experiment itself, but the sensation of being stretched quickly comes back when something slimy swirls around my hole and easily slips inside.

I don't see between my legs through the sheet that was put over them but the ultrasound image and the endo camera feed on the screen let me know exactly what is happening. This "specimen", a living, moving mass is making its way through my pussy, expanding and contracting on its way deeper. I gasp from the stretching sensation and the skin of my stomach mirrors its movements, bulging under the probe the researcher is pressing down on a little too hard.

"We have a visual."

A dark, rippling mass fills the screen, leaving the cervix visible just barely enough, but from the overwhelming pressure alone I know exactly what's going to happen. The tentacle changes shape into a pointed, needle-like tip and without any warning strikes the entrance of my uterus. I cry out and feel my eyes burn.

"Secretion of analgesic pre-seminal fluids. Hormonal and physical stimulation of the test subject began."

The excrutiating pain and pressure of having my cervix stretched quickly dissolves into feeling of pleasant warmth. The tentacle inside me starts moving again, slowly and rythmically filling my pussy and womb with whatever aphrodisiac it produces to make its victim all relaxed and docile. Mere seconds later my entire body is tingling in hot static and when more tendrils start lapping at my clit now covered in the creature's fluids, my legs cramp and I let out the most obscene moan I would be ashamed of in any other situation.

"Orgasm confirmed," the ultrasound tech presses down even harder in attempt to keep my pelvis in place, but the only thing I feel is my pussy and the entire lower half contracting in synch with the frantic ECG monitor I am hooked up to.

"Cervix dilation?"

"Sufficient. Egg deposition begins. Readjust the camera."

My vision is blurry and mind pleasantly unfocused from whatever hormones the creature pumped my system full of, but I'm aware enough to give the screen a passing look. The tentacle is semi-translucent now, buried and anchored long past my cervix, somewhere in my womb. And as the translucent tentacle starts filling with round, marble-like objects, I understand why the experiment called for the subject to be mid-cycle and not on any birth control. I breathe heavily as I watch the creature's eggs slip past my numb cervix, one by one.

All researchers' eyes are glued the screen as they watch the creature breed in real time. This is it, this is the moment they put endless hours of preparations into. A conception of something new, something out of this world. They needed to make sure it will work. And that every moment of it will be recorded and catalogued, so it can be repeated again.

The academy has a special contraption in one of their main halls. Its designed to have a sub cuffed to it, and then the sub can be moved around, forced into different positions. The parts can be moved by hand, or theres a computer that will automatically force the sub quickly into preset positions.

This sub finds themself locked into this machine, completely naked in this pretty open and well-traveled area. The machine doesn’t really cover much up, and the only part of their body that’s inaccessible is the parts under the cuffs.

Anyone who passes by can touch the sub wherever they want, and the sub is kept immobile, unable to even really squirm

Sometimes people will approach the computer and just press different settings, watching with amusement as the sub is forced into different positions. They let out the most pathetic sounds as their body is pushed and pulled, toyed with like a doll. The machine isn’t gentle by any means, and when switching positions too quickly in succession, the sub starts to cry from the pain.

A favorite position for people with time to spend is the one with the sub down on their knees with their wrists held securely behind their back. It makes it easy for people to use the sub’s mouth, and the sub can’t even pull their head away.

Other positions that people enjoy are when the sub is made to be on all fours, which is especially useful when there are two people, and a position similar to lying down, so that people can see their cocks make the sub’s throat bulge.

Sometimes groups will gather, and just have conversations while fucking the sub’s mouth, or casually groping them. Two friends may hang out in the hall, just chatting, while positioned at different ends of the sub, spitroasting the poor thing.

Their whole body is accessible, on display, like a toy or a statue. They are helpless, trapped, just an object to be poked and prodded, groped, fucked, or whatever else anyone may wish to do to them.