Wicked Masquerade Page 5

  He let out a harsh breath of shock and rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. His legs were already spread wide, thanks to the posture of the cross, and allowed her free access to his heavy balls. “Mistress!”

  “How much cum do you have in these full balls…hmmm? Think you’ll paint the wall with your cum?” She kissed his shoulder, brushing her lips along his skin.

  He made a low, eager sound and tried to arch his hips forward but found himself trapped against the rough texture of the cross, his cock pinned between wood, leather and belly. She gave his balls a slow squeeze in her palm, just enough to threaten pain. The sensation made him pant breathlessly, the hot flesh filling her fingers as she caressed and then relented.

  Drawing away, she let him catch his breath while she searched the room for accessories to aid in the play. The big man didn’t look over at her, but his back looked corded with tension as he waited for her return. A wooden box against the wall provided a treasure within—a selection of sealed gear. She found a strap-on harness and various dildos in an arrangement of shapes and sizes. At the bar, she found lubes set up like drinks, ranging from plain, water-based to silicon-based and there were a rainbow of flavors and warming offerings. There were candles and tiger balm and delicate wheels for prickly sensation play.

  She selected a simple crop, a fur mitt and the strap-on harness with a bright-purple dildo with two cocks—one for her to ride while the longer, curved length fit into the ring of the harness. Oh, she’d enjoyed watching her share of porn and read so many books, but never expected fantasy to cross over into reality. She removed her skirt and left it atop Cupid’s discarded items to buckle on the leather harness.

  He turned his head at the sound of the crinkling wrappers and his eyes widened behind the mask as he watched her adjusting the cock through the strap-on.

  “Oh!” Sounding breathless, he rocked his hips forward, restlessly nuzzling his cock into the cross. “You look magnificent. Do you need assistance with that?”

  “You’ve touched my pussy enough already,” she whispered back and moaned as she eased the fat tip of the dildo across her creamy cunt lips. It felt cool and slick against her, the realistic curve and texture feeling very lifelike.

  “Mmmm!” He growled, eyes burning behind the mask as he watched her play with herself and the toy.

  When she finally stopped enjoying her own pleasure and tormenting the man on his cross, she eased the fake cock into her pussy. The base of the toy nuzzled her clit, sending sweet tingles down her thighs with each step she took. It felt like having a cock of her own and she wrapped her hands around the base of the tool while flourishing the whip against her thigh with her other hand.

  “Stop staring or I’m going to blindfold you,” she warned him. The broken moan of desire spoke of his approval of such a punishment and she felt herself smiling. “You’re a slut,” she scolded the big man and extended the crop forward, dragging the end up the outside of his leg, over his knee and teased his thigh.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he agreed. Deeper respect laced through his desire.

  When the tongue of the crop snapped against his ass, he rocked forward with a gasp of surprise and she soothed him with a soft murmur and caressed the spot with the warmth of her palm gloved inside the soft fur.

  “Fuuuuuck!” he breathed out at the difference of the contrast in textures. Under her touch, she could feel his muscles tensing and he didn’t turn his face, but kept his gaze fixed straight ahead as she delivered another slap of the crop to his other ass cheek. This time he was braced for the strike and didn’t respond except for the breath sucked in through his teeth.

  Repeatedly, she cropped his ass and thighs, sometimes pausing to soothe between the strikes but other times letting him writhe with multiple slaps to flush his dark skin even darker. It was erotic to see and hear the pleasure the pain caused him. Each time the crop fell, it lit him up a little higher and she moved the attention from ass cheeks down his thighs, teasing at first and then applying more pressure until he writhed and squirmed in restless need.

  She slid the fur between his thighs to tease his balls while her bare hand curled around the base of his cock and stroked up the turgid length of him. His cock was so huge that her fingers didn’t encircle him fully. Pre-cum made his shaft slippery and slick. He moaned louder in pleasure as she stroked him and the shuddering of his body showed the struggle with his control. “Do you want to come?” she whispered into his ear.

  His cock lurched and bobbed in her fist and he moaned out a soft, “Yes, Mistress! So much!” He tried to rock into her hand but she drew her fingers back and slid her palm up his stomach and side, smearing his pre-cum over his body.

  “Such a dirty boy,” she scolded him, so turned on that she was thankful for the dildo in her pussy to keep her excitement from making her thighs slick. “Just look at you, so desperate and needy.”

  He groaned and his head fell forward as she leaned her body in against him, letting him feel the cool dildo against his inner thigh. He shuddered and arched to avoid her pressing to his welted, oversensitive flesh, but he could only move so far in his restraints. It made her feel powerful as she realized she was in control. She could let him dangle on the cross until he went soft and then come back to him and tease him hard, and start all over again.

  But what she wanted was to make him paint the cross with his uncontrolled orgasm. If she couldn’t kiss him, she would make him toss his careful restraint to the wind. She would undo his reserve. She bit into his ear and he cried out sharply in pleasure and pain, bucking into the cross. She didn’t use her tongue, just held him and growled while she pressed into his back with her still-clothed chest.

  She drew back to slather the lube on the dildo, watching him squirm in his restraints. He didn’t turn his head, obeying her command not to look. He sucked in a trembling breath when she reached for him again, trailing cool lube from his hip across his ass cheek and then into the tight cleft of his ass.

  “So glad you’re spread for me, Cupid. Now I can claim this tight little pucker without you fighting me.”

  He moaned out a protest and she paused. “Is that a request for me to stop? Do you want this to stop?”

  He shook his head violently and bit back a muffled whimper.

  “Good boy. Because I’m going to fuck you so hard with my big, fat dick. I’ve never fucked a boy before so it might be rough, baby.” She guided the head of the cock to his hole and swirled the lubed head around several times before pushing forward.

  The toy rocked against her clit, the pressure driving her end of the toy deep into her pussy, and she squeezed her hand on his hip as the pleasure swept over her. His cry of pleasure matched hers as she drove deeper into him, groaning when she felt his heartbeat through that contact of toy, ass and her sex. She wrapped her arm around his middle, splaying her palm against his tight stomach, just above his cock. Her chest pressed between his wings. Those glorious wings.

  She thought she felt them flex like something living rather than fake props glued into his dark skin. “Fuck!” She moaned and pressed her cheek into his back as he rocked his hips back toward her, making the dildo grind deeper into her pussy and against her clit.

  With trembling fingers, she stripped what little there was of the shirt to bare her breasts and press her nipples and the swells of soft flesh against the strength of his muscles and texture of the feathers. She jerked deeper into him and he cried out in response as she fucked him.

  Long, deep thrusts of the toy gave her as much pleasure—there was no way he could feel better than she did! Fucking this powerful Cupid against the Cross, pussy stuffed with cock, thighs trembling with the building passion that was threatening to spill over. And yet his broken cries and shudders as she drilled deeper into him were authentic. His stomach tightened as she rolled her hips, grinding deep into him, and he leaned his head back, dark curls tumbling down his back.

  “Mistress! I’m so…so… Oh fuck!”

  She want
ed to command him to wait, but she knew from the way his body shuddered and bucked, and on some deeper instinctual level, that he was beyond the point of having any control. Instead, she bit into his shoulder and wrapped her hand around the base of one of his wings while the other wrapped around his cock and began to pump her fist back and forth as she snarled in her pleasure.

  Under the feathers, the wing felt hot and solid. The feathers tickled her palms but she could feel the muscle where it attached to his shoulder and skin. She felt the joints arching outward as she drove the dildo into him deeper. Deeper. Harder. His cock swelled under her fingers as she stroked faster than she fucked his willing little asshole.

  He let out a roar of pleasure as his body jerked, making the cross rattle with the force of the movement. Under her naked breasts, his muscles tightened, his neck cording, and even those amazing wings fanned open, giving up all pretenses of being fake or tiny as they unfurled. Her own orgasm overwhelmed her at the same time and she used her hold against his back for support as the tangle of pleasure tightened around the fat dildo plunging into her pussy.

  She couldn’t see the fountain of his cum, her vision obscured by the vee of the wings framing her body in a protective, strong fan of feathers. In her fist, his cock bucked and throbbed in time with her heart and she felt his release pound through him. The leather cuffs groaned and wood crackled with the force the…Cupid…put upon it in his release. A roaring filled her ears, made her bones feel weak and she imagined the scream of an eagle deafening her as the wings enfolded her. Behind her eyes, she saw stars spinning and felt her stomach falling end over end for several dizzying heartbeats.

  It was impossible to know how long she clung to him, the pleasure so intense that she nearly passed out from it, still clinging tightly to him. But distantly other sounds cut through the bliss of the moment.

  “Holy shit, you two are hot.” A woman’s voice intruded into her spiraling pleasure.

  When Ursa snapped her eyes open, she was no longer shrouded by wings, but still pressed into Cupid’s broad, powerful back, and he breathed rough and wild under her. His cock was still rock-hard in her hand, her knuckles slippery and warm from his cum drooling over her grip.

  What the hell had they put in her drink?

  “Fuck. How are we going to compare to that?” the man asked as Ursa slowly drew back and Cupid uttered a throaty growl of protest, looking over his shoulder at her.

  His dark eyes were hooded, his smile dazed, searching her eyes. For a moment, his lips pursed and his gaze drifted to her mouth, not masking the desire to kiss her. The kiss that they couldn’t share. No exchange of fluids. Even for kisses that she knew would be earth-shattering right now.

  Her smile was unsteady as she eased out of him and uncurled her fingers from his still-straining cock. As she drew back, she could see the wonderful mess his spray of cum had made against the cross, the wall and his belly. The woman in the Star mask and the man in the Ram’s-horned mask were there, and the woman offered her a towel for her hands that she accepted and quickly cleaned herself.

  Her head buzzed with the intensity of her orgasm and she found herself unsteady on her feet, but managed to unbind the big man and offer him a second towel for his cleanup. She noticed he was trembling as well as he spiraled down from that high and she found a blanket and pulled it over his shoulders. A fierce protective sensation tangled in her belly while she guided him across the room. She didn’t want the others to see him in this weak condition. As the other couple grinned at them, she guided the man to a pile of pillows and motioned for him to sit.

  She found water for him and offered him the bottle, touching his jaw to make him look up at her. His dark eyes were slightly glazed and he blinked three times before the focus came back into the darkness and he regarded her, his smile lazy. “Mistress?”

  “You still with me?” she asked him and was relieved when he smiled and nodded.

  “I’m with you,” he rasped quietly and leaned his handsome face into her fingers, kissing her fingertips dreamily.

  “I am going to clean up. Stay here, okay?” She wondered if the other people in the room had watched everything. Fastening her shirt to hide her breasts, she fetched his skirt and quiver to make sure he had her token, as though he might get snatched up by someone while her back was turned. Smirking, she left him to drink water while she cleaned up herself and the cross.

  When she returned to his side, Cupid had his blanket pulled close around him, his expression not as hazy. She found her skirt and pulled it on, cheeks warm behind her mask as she crouched down to speak to the man. “How are you feeling?”

  He reached for her hand and pressed his cheek into her knuckles as his gaze found hers. “Like a new man,” he admitted in a soft voice.

  “Good.” She squeezed his hand in hers, enjoying how he dwarfed her.

  “Do you think I could talk you into staying for the pony race? I would like to be sponsored by you and…honor you by winning the race in your name.”

  “That sounds awfully arrogant. What if you don’t win?”

  “If I don’t win, you can kiss me right on the mouth,” he murmured. And then added, “with tongue.”

  Her eyes darted to his lips, watching the corners curl up into a sexy smile full of naughty promise. “Damn. You strike a hard bargain. Fine. You’ll have to guide me though. I’m not exactly sure what to do.”

  His eyes danced as he leaned in closer. “You look lovely, as you do naturally, and stand with the other jockeys and boast about my prowess and enjoy the event.”

  “God, you’re arrogant.” She couldn’t help laughing.

  He had the decency to blush and smiled at her, head tipping forward in polite acceptance. “I am fast, and I want to show off for you. You might have to present me a bit, but I don’t think you’ll mind that. You seem to like showing off.”

  He gathered his long legs and pulled himself up to stand. She looked at his body as he shrugged off the blanket, but he had the strap over his chest and was buckling the arming skirt on before she could question him more about the wings. The others in the room had not seen anything. She must have imagined it.

  Cupid watched her a moment and then dropped the towels and blanket into the laundry and offered his arm to her with an incline of his head and a lazy little smile.

  The sign-up for the pony event was located in the foyer and only required a signature of their “names”, which was only their current titles, and a show of her card. That accomplished, they found their way to her room without incident. They didn’t even stumble upon an orgy in progress on their way.

  The suite turned out to be several large rooms on the wing overlooking the pool and hedge maze. There were a number of connecting rooms and two private bathrooms attached to a main receiving room. During the daylight, the sitting room would provide a fine view of the guests playing in the maze if they wanted to watch from afar. At least those twists and turns that faced the room.

  A basket full of goodies sat on the table beside the door, offering condoms, cock rings and small vibrators. Like the rumpus room, the bar area was stocked with a selection of lubes, though less inclusive than the playroom. House Mistress certainly took care of her guests.

  They agreed to sleep in separate rooms and not remove their masks. It was her suggestion and a distant part of her wished he would have protested. Still, that wouldn’t be as complicated at the end of the party. A little kink for the weekend and she’d return to normal life.

  She didn’t think she would be able to sleep, but after the hot shower, the moment her head settled against the pillow, she was asleep. For the first time in a very long time, no nightmares haunted her and she got the best rest that she’d had in years.

  Chapter 3

  Saturday, Oct 31, 2015 Breakfast

  “Opal Owl,” a cheerful voice called across the atrium the moment Ursa and Cupid arrived to the room.

  He gave her a curious look and then turned a smile to the group of women in t
heir jeweled colors, but it was the woman in ruby-red who had her arm up, waving toward them with a broad smile.

  “People you know?” he asked, bowing his head forward so his lips brushed the shell of her ear. The warmth of his minty breath tickled her skin and she grinned at him.

  “We rode in the limo together to get here. They are nice women.” She realized she looked forward to introducing them to Cupid, and she didn’t even know their names except for their tokens and colors. She changed their direction and moved to the large couch where the women were lounging with their selected partners.

  For a moment, she feared the Glamazons would consume Cupid with their hungry gazes, but realized the women were only regarding him to measure him up for her sake. “Oh, Owl, you found a charming companion. Is this Archer?” Ruby Otter asked as she motioned for Ursa to come have a seat at the crescent-shaped couch.

  “I’m calling him Cupid.” Ursa made introductions as she sat and found she liked that Cupid knelt at her feet and drew her legs in close to him as he nuzzled his back and wings against her thigh as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

  The women gave Cupid a longer look, searching him, and then exchanged several puzzled looks between themselves.

  “He is just darling,” Emerald Bear purred into the small silence. She wiggled a finger at Cupid, who smiled from where he had his cheek resting on Ursa’s knee.

  “I heard,” Amethyst Badger murmured, “that there was a delicious scene in the upper rumpus room last night.”

  Ursa felt warmth radiate into her cheeks but realized it couldn’t possibly be what they’d done. “A disturbance?” she asked, throat tight with embarrassment.

  “Oh no, someone was showing her pegging skills, reducing her handsome boy-toy to a cuddly ball of submission. It sounded like a particular Owl, but the girl we met seemed so nervous about trying out this lifestyle. I think she told us she wasn’t staying the night.”