Masters' Night In Pt. 05

If you haven't read the first four parts, you should do that now. In Part 4, we left Galatea at Master Fred's house, getting ready to serve her Masters after being fed a liquid protein breakfast. She's already learning about herself and starting to leave Soma behind. It ended with Master Gordon rocking her world in more ways than she expected, including a kiss that left her swooning.

For those of you who have been patiently anticipating the "good stuff," your wait is over.

"Wow!"

I had just recovered from the most passionate kiss I had ever received from a man.

"Wow, indeed," agreed Master Gordon, his glasses fogged, our arms wrapped tightly around each other and his cock pressed firmly against my caged clitoris announcing it was fully refreshed and ready for action.

I ground my crotch against his. I was going to have to change my panty liner for sure. But, before doing that, there was one thing I had to do. I started to slide down for another feeding, but he pulled me up by my arms.

"Much as I would love to give you another feeding, I want to save something for the main event. Besides, Pete will be here soon and you need to be ready to be our serving wench. Your nails should be dry now. Let me help you with your slippers."

He sat me on the bed and knelt in front of me. He picked up my left foot and kissed each toe as if it was royalty. He picked up the slipper and gently placed my foot in it, while I looked down on him with wonder. He had taken my breath away, literally, and with it, he had captured a part of my heart. I wondered how one girl could be so lucky. By the time I had my breathing under control, my feet were shod and Master Gordon stood up.

"I'll let the guys know you'll be down shortly. The way you've been hitting the water, you'll probably want to use the bathroom again. And don't worry: I'll use the downstairs facilities."

We went our separate ways, him clomping down the stairs and me emptying my bladder one more time. After peeling off the panty liner, I considered replacing it, but decided against it. If I had been wearing panties, it would have been a no brainer, but I didn't want to spoil the look of the lounging pajamas. Truth be told, I really wanted to be sure my Masters could see my chastity device in all its glory: it was making my front smooth and flat.

After washing my hands, I took a good at myself in the mirror. Not for the first time, I wondered what my Masters saw in me. I had an ordinary face at best, though I did look younger than my actual age. Apart from some lines around my eyes, my skin was smooth. I rubbed my lips, wondering if a touch of lipstick would help with my appearance. Who was I kidding? It would take a master cosmetician to give me a fully female appearance. I had played around with the idea of going all out for the female look, but I had only succeeded in making myself look ridiculous...

... in whose eyes? Yours? Of course you're going to be hypercritical about your appearance: you've always seen yourself as unattractive. You've always brushed off other people's positive comments about your appearance. You really don't like yourself, do you, Soma?

But, for some unfathomable reason, those men downstairs do like you. More than that, they desire you. They're as intoxicated with you as you are with them. And when has that ever happened? Do you think I'm going to mess that up? No one's putting Galatea in the corner any more, not even Soma.

Stand up straight: ladies don't slouch. Lift your head and look straight ahead. You have a great body: your Masters cherish it. Don't insult them by looking down on yourself. You're going to go downstairs and be the best damn serving wench they've ever seen. I see that smile, Galatea. Good. Now, get down there and give your Masters the time of their lives. While you're at it, be sure to have the time of your life.

The clicking of my heels on the steps announced my arrival. I stepped slowly and deliberately, holding the rail and looking directly at my Masters, who had dropped what they were doing and gathered at the bottom of the stairs when they heard me. Seeing their attention glued to me filled me with a sense of joy and pride. I was Cinderella entering the ballroom, with three Prince Charmings (Princes Charming?) waiting for me.

"Good morning, Masters. Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I await your pleasure."

Master Jim was the first to break the spell.

"Master sounds so formal, Galatea. Since today you are our serving wench, you will address each of us only as 'Milord' and we shall address you as 'wench.' Do you understand?"

I gave a curtsy. "Yes, Milord."

"By the way, wench, you look especially lovely. Gordon did well with you."

"Thank you, Milord. What are my duties?" I may have made a mistake not wearing a panty liner. I'm going to be soaked in no time.

"Your duties are simple, wench. Fred will show you where the food and drinks are. All you have to do is bring us what we want, provide us whatever services we desire and be your usual charming self."

"Yes, Milord."

"Since you enjoyed your breakfast so much, we've decided to keep you on that diet for the rest of the day. If you're thirsty, you may get yourself some water, after asking permission, of course. And, if you get hungry, you may ask any of us to feed you. If he agrees, you may have as much of his cum as you can coax from him. Keep in mind that not all of us recharge as quickly as we once did, so don't be too greedy, or you may go hungry. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Milord. Thank you, Milord." I was going to be drinking a lot of water to keep my stomach quiet.

"Of course, your body is at our complete disposal, with the exception of your pussy. We have special plans for that. You'll be informed of them at the appropriate time. If you feel any of us are behaving inappropriately with you, you may address your concerns to me. I shall address them privately with you. My determination will be final. At any time, you may choose to leave and no one will stop you. But that will be a one way trip out of the house. As long as you are here, you will obey every command you're given. If you don't trust us enough to do that, let me know now. And, so you know how serious we are..."

I yelped in surprise and pain as he gave me a smack on my tush with the full force of his hand. My cheek was on fire and stinging from the impact.

"Before you ask, wench, you did nothing wrong to deserve that smack. I gave it to you because I chose to do so, and to remind you that not all service is pleasurable for you, though it certainly is for us. Our appetites are many and varied. You may not like all of them, but that is of no concern to us. What we care about today is that you learn to serve us. Do you understand?"

"Permission to speak, Milord?"

"Of course, wench."

"Milords, I would like to give you my full response when Master Pete arrives. I want you all to hear what I have to say, and I don't know if I can say it more than once."

"That is acceptable, wench. The foyer will be your nook. You will sit in the chair next to the door when not serving us. One of your duties will be to answer the door and to welcome whoever it is. When the doorbell rings, check the peephole. If it's Pete, take his coat and hang it in the hall closet, then remove his shoes and place them on the mat near the door. If it's anyone else, ask Fred how you should respond."

"Yes, Milord," I said quietly, resisting the urge to rub my bottom. Note to self: don't get spanked by Master Jim.

I followed Master Fred into the kitchen and he showed me the beverages and veggie tray in the refrigerator. I noticed the pitcher full of water and consoled my stomach with the assurance that it would soon be filled. But, first...

"Milord?" I asked quietly, wanting to minimize my embarrassment.

"What is it, wench?"

"This is awkward, Sir, but I need to step away for a moment."

"And why do you need to do so, wench?"

"Um... well, I need to get... a panty liner for my pants. I'm... uh... worried about getting them wet."

"Getting them wet?" His voice went a little louder. I felt eyes on my back. "Are you having bladder problems?"

My cheeks flushed. "No, Sir... Milord. It's not my bladder... it's... my... um... clitoris... it's... excited."

"Excited? Let me see," and he pulled my waistband open, slipped his hand down my bottoms and ran his finger over my cage. He pulled out a liquid coated finger, which he put into my mouth. I sucked it off greedily, the sweetness blending with the saltiness of his finger. I ran my tongue over his finger pad, searching the whorls for any traces of nourishment. He pulled his finger out.

"Slow down, wench... my, you are a hungry one. Or are you a horny one?"

"Yes, Milord," I panted "I am a hungry wench and a horny one. How could I not be around so many desirable men?"

I heard laughter in the background.

"Well played, wench," Master Fred replied with a smile, "I suppose it's too much to expect you to control yourself in the presence of such a collection of studs." That brought even louder laughter.

"Very well, wench. We wouldn't want you to spoil what we chose so carefully," and he ran his hand over my silk clad tush, sliding it around to my front and squeezing my balls. I sighed with pleasure and frustration. He pulled his hand back and I was mortified to see a small dark spot on my bottoms.

"I guess you'd better take care of that," he said. "Get your panty liner and put it on. Leave that spot as a reminder of the effect we have on you."

I found my fanny pack, took out a liner and headed toward the bathroom.

"Where do you think you're going, wench?" Master Jim called.

"I'm going to the bathroom to put on the panty liner, Milord."

"And perhaps give yourself a little pleasure? I don't think we can trust such a horny little wench to be by herself. Come in here, so we can make sure you don't cheat."

I sighed and walked into the living room. I stood in front of my Masters and lowered my bottoms. Sure enough, a large drop of precum was poised on the front of the cage. Master Gordon reached for it and rubbed it on my lips. I licked them and sucked his finger into my mouth. He rubbed my thigh with his other hand and I trembled.

"You're right, Jim. She's primed and ready to go. She's leaking again." he, continued to stroke my thigh and tush, "She's on a hair trigger. I wonder..."

He reach for my plug and pulled it out an inch. I let out a cry of pleasure, which turned into gasps when he started pushing it in and out. I was leaking like a sieve; the precum was running down my scrotum.

"Please, Milord," I whimpered, "It's too much. I can't control myself... I'm going to come..."

He slammed it back into me and smacked my bare tush hard. I yelped with pain and went on tiptoe. He wiped his hand over my crotch and held it to my mouth. I took it in both hands and slurped on his palm, closing my eyes and humming with pleasure. I ignored the laughter around me, until Master Jim spoke up.

"That's enough for now, Gordon. We don't want things to get out of control just yet. Our wench has an afternoon of service ahead. We don't want to take the edge off her. Wench, get yourself fixed, and hurry up: I want a beer."

"Yes, Milord," I answered with downcast eyes. I stuck the liner to the inside of my bottoms and pulled them up.

Master Jim came over and lifted my chin. He gave me a soft kiss and melted my heart with his words, "You're doing very well, wench."

"Thank you, Milord," I whispered, misty-eyed. "I'm so hungry. Could you feed me, please?"

He leaned against the counter and smiled. "I think we can arrange that. But not on your knees: the kitchen floor is hard. Squat down and nosh away."

I spread my legs to shoulder width apart and performed a Yogi Squat in front of him, with my feet pointed out for balance. He was standing between my knees, with his cock visible through his sweatpants at eye level. My stomach was growling, tormented by the nearby smells of freshly brewed coffee and leftover bacon: I was genuinely hungry and I knew his cum, thick and tasty as it was, would hardly satisfy me. I was going to need more water, which would mean more trips to the bathroom, which would likely mean more humiliation from my Masters. They knew how to torment me, and I loved them all the more for it.

I pulled his waistband down and took his balls in my hand. I gazed at the prize with devotion, lust and hunger. I kissed the tip of his cock, rubbing the large pearl of precum over my lips, then licked them slowly, looking up at him adoringly while he checked his phone. I understood: he wasn't giving me pleasure, but neither was I giving him pleasure. This was purely about my own physical hunger. He was being... kind. On one level, it stung, but I knew that everything he was doing was reinforcing the dynamic for today and grounding me in the reality of being a slave.

At this point, I didn't care why he was doing it. I only knew the gnawing in my stomach and my need to satisfy it with anything. I pulled him fully into my mouth, running my tongue over his shaft to get the precum flowing. I slipped my hands around his cheeks and slowly pulled my head back until just the tip remained in my mouth. I ran my tongue around his frenulum and squeezed his cheeks, spreading them and sliding my fingers over his crack. I was rewarded by a slow but steady stream of precum, which I sucked off and swallowed,

I established a rhythm of pulling a stream from him, than pausing when I felt his cock start to twitch. I wasn't edging him, but simply trying to maximize what he was feeding me. At some point, Master Gordon walked by to refill his coffee mug. He ignored me as he went to the coffeemaker.

"Anything interesting in the news, Jim?"

"Just the usual."

"How's the wench doing?"

"Hmmm? Oh, I guess she's doing OK. Need her for anything?"

"No, I'm good right now."

My thighs were beginning to ache with the strain of the position. I resumed my full assault on his cock, determined to get my meal. The precum was flowing steadily now and I smiled as I heard Master Jim's breathing start to pick up. I was ready for my reward...

... and then the doorbell rang.

"Go see who that is, wench," said Master Jim, pulling my head off his cock, "then come back and finish me off."

I pulled myself up reluctantly, using the counter as leverage. I gave him a quick peck on the lips and walked to the door, feeling my thighs complain. I smoothed my shirt and checked the peephole: it was Master Pete, wearing a sweat suit and a jacket. I opened the door.

"Please come in, milord, and let me take your coat."

"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes, darlin'? I love your outfit," he greeted me.

I helped him out of his jacket and hanged it in the hall closet. As I reached to put it on the rod, he groped my tush and felt his way down to my plug.

"What do we have here?"

"It's my plug, Milord. I've been told to wear it to prepare for today."

"And you should see her front," added Master Fred, giving Master Pete a quick hug. "Show him your little clitty, wench."

I turned to face him and he ran his hand over my crotch. Feeling the panty liner, he pulled my waistband and looked down.

"I knew you had a tiny dick, darlin', but, damn, that's not even a clitty... but it sure is drippy. You must be happy to see me."

"Oh, I am, Milord, and I hope I may show you just how happy I am," I added, licking my lips.

"She really is horny this morning, Pete. The wench is on a sperm and water diet, so she'll be after your cock. You're the only one who hasn't fed her this morning."

"I haven't fed her yet," Master Jim called from the kitchen. "I was getting ready to when the doorbell rang."

"Please, Milord, have a seat and let me take off your shoes."

"Thanks, Galatea, don't mind if I do."

"Today, she's simply our wench and will be addressed that way," corrected Master Fred.

Master Pete smiled. "Is that why she called me 'Milord?' Cool... I can go for that. Here, wench," he said to me, sitting in the hall chair, "and when you're finished, I could use a foot rub."

I knelt and took off his sneakers. He sighed and stretched his legs in my lap. I started rubbing his sock clad foot, kneading the ball of his foot and rubbing his toes through the socks. He pushed his other foot into my crotch gently but firmly.

"Take off my socks, wench," he directed, then spoke up. "Jim, you mind if I get a foot bath from the wench? You're not getting blue balls, are you?"

Master Jim laughed, "I'm fine, Pete. Do what you want with her. She's hungry enough that she'll enjoy your toe jam." That evoked general laugher. I blushed furiously as I finished folding his socks and setting them beside me. The most humiliating part of what Master Jim had said was that it was true.

I held his feet to my face and inhaled deeply. They were fresh out of the shower, with only a hint of being confined to gym socks. I took each foot and bathed it thoroughly, running my tongue across the sole, making sure to cover it completely, before moving to his toes. I'm not ashamed to say I ran my tongue between his toes hoping to find some nourishment, even lint, but to no avail. While I was feasting on his foot, he rubbed my chastity with his other foot, evoking a moan of pleasure and frustration.

"How long has she been locked up, Jim?"

"Since Thursday."

"No wonder she's so horny, and so wet. You mind if I feed her a bit?"

"Go ahead. I'm sure she'll love it."

He pulled his foot out of my mouth.

"Pull down your pants, wench: I want to see your clitty cage."

"Yes, Milord," I whispered, and started to rise.

Master Pete pressed his feet on my thighs and shook his head.

"Did I say you could get up, wench?"

"No, Milord. I'm sorry."

I managed to slide my bottoms to mid thigh without rising. Master Pete stopped my hands with his feet.

"Put your hands behind your head and sit straight," he ordered. "Keep your eyes on me."

I felt his foot rubbing my cage. He held it up to my mouth and I opened to let him stick his toes in. They were sticky with my juices. I licked them greedily and hummed my thanks to him. While I did so, his other foot was busy, as I was flowing with precum. He swapped feet and I devoured his tasty toes.

"Gordon, you were right. The wench is a great little toe sucker. Aren't you just the cutest little thing?"

He had taken my face between his feet and was shaking my head gently, as if I was a baby he was holding. He must have felt the heat in my cheeks, especially when I caught Master Gordon out of the corner of my eye standing nearby, watching me moaning with desire as Master Pete debased my face with his feet.

When he grew tired of that, he moved his feet back to my crotch and began frigging my cage. By now, my precum was a torrent and I felt the beginnings of an orgasm. My moaning was moving up toward soprano.

"Oh God, oh God, I'm going to... mmmmmfffff" as he shoved his soaking foot in my mouth and I began sucking it dry, licking it like a starving man, squeezing my fingers behind my head to keep them from grabbing his foot. At the same time, he pulled his other foot away, leaving me on the edge and sobbing with frustration.

He replaced his foot in my mouth and slid the first one under my shirt and started playing with my nipple with his toes. I was helpless to do anything but feed on his foot and try to get my breathing under control. I could feel my mind slipping away as my world narrowed to Master Pete's feet.

And then he pulled his feet away. I blinked and saw my Masters gathered around us, watching and grinning. I saw the other Masters congratulating him on a job well done. I had been well and fully abased and was being put back on the shelf: Master Pete had had his fun with me. A calm overtook me. I was theirs to use as they chose. I had no feelings but the need to serve, to be used. I had fulfilled my purpose in life, and I was content.

The others went back to what they had been doing as I put Master Pete's socks back on his feet. When I finished he stood up and went to the kitchen.

"I'm starving, Fred. What have you got in here?"

I stood up gingerly and pulled up my pants. I walked unsteadily into the living room, where Master Jim was now sitting and watching the pre-game show. I stood to one side, keeping out of his view of the TV, and bowed my head.

"Milord, I'm still hungry."

He looked surprised. "After that feast Pete fed you? You're turning into a glutton. Go drink some water and return to your station until you're needed."

"Yes, Milord. May I also empty my bladder?"

"Yes, you may, wench, but keep the door open: no cheating."

"Yes, Milord," I replied, blushing at his command, knowing he knew the effect it would have on me.

My Masters were merciful and let me use the bathroom without intruding. After washing up, I took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and sat in the chair next to the door. I had just opened the bottle and taken a swig when I heard Master Gordon call me. I brought him a beer, opened it and gave it to him. I then returned to my chair and finished my water.

The next twenty minutes were a blur. Almost as quickly as I sat down, one of my Masters would summon me to carry out some task, whether to bring them food and drink, or to rub their feet. Whenever I passed by Master Pete, he gave me a smack on my tush, just to hear me squeal. I noticed Master Gordon's eyes focused on my feet when I passed by him and I made a point to wiggle my toes for him.

While working on a second bottle of water and getting a few moments of blessed relief, I heard Master Pete and Master Jim talking.

"Why do you keep her sitting in the foyer? She'd be much more convenient in the living room with us."

"Yes, but this way, we get to hear her heels as she walks back and forth. Gordon loves watching her feet, and he's got a point. Besides, I want to keep her plug moving around to be sure she's loose."

Listening to them discussing me as if I wasn't seated in front of them, I had to agree. I loved the way my legs felt when I stood in the heels and the feeling when walking, the contrast between the freedom my heels had and the vamp keeping my feet captive was amazing. I see why women love high heels. I feel so damn good walking in them. And they make my Masters happy.

The doorbell rang. I went to the door and saw a pizza delivery woman standing outside. I started into the living room, but Master Fred preempted me.

"Who's at the door, wench?"

"A pizza delivery person, Milord."

"About time," grumbled Master Pete.

"Find out how much it is and I'll give you the money."

"Yes, Milord."

I opened the main door and cracked the screen door to speak to her. She did a double take and I wondered what she thought seeing a man wearing women's pajamas and heeled slides answer the door. To her credit, she remained professional.

"Two pizzas for Fred."

"Thank you. How much is it?"

"$32.50."

"I'll get your money."

I turned and walked to the living room, where the Masters were watching me with amusement. I spoke to Master Fred loudly enough for her to hear.

"Milord, your order is $32.50."

He gave me two twenties and I returned to the door and gave her the money.

"No change," I said as I took the two boxes from her.

"Thank you. I hope you have a... fun day," she added with a wink.

I smiled, "I certainly shall. Have a good day."

I closed the door and took them into the kitchen, ignoring the fresh rumbling in my stomach triggered by the scent of hot pizza. I laid out a stack of plates and napkins on the counter and opened the boxes, placing a spatula under each pie.

I walked into the living room and announced, "Milords, lunch is served," and returned to my station with a bottle of water. I didn't know if I could handle being close to food right now. I drank my water and tried to ignore the smells wafting around me.

In the living room, my Masters were watching the game and eating pizza. I sat and reflected on my day. At first, I had been put off by their treatment of me. It wasn't their use and abuse of my body that was upsetting: I actually enjoyed that. It wasn't even being treated as their serving wench: that was a role I gladly accepted. It was that they were ignoring me: after all I had done for them, all the sacrifices I had made, the starvation diet, and now they were happy to put Galatea in a corner?

Am I being a spoiled brat? What did I expect? To be the full center of attention 24/7? To be the focus of my Masters? Isn't that exactly backward? Are not my Masters the center of my attention and devotion? We also serve who only sit and wait...

I wonder what the pizza lady thought when she saw me? If she's like other delivery folks, as long as she gets a decent tip, it probably doesn't matter to her. I know I was embarrassed when she saw me looking like this.... except I wasn't. I should have felt humiliated, but I felt... nothing. That's not right either. I felt... normal. Caged, plugged, hungry, feeling silk clothes caressing my skin, hearing the click of my heels, it all feels normal... and right. I'm happy; even better, I'm content with who I am, with whose I am.

My reveries were interrupted by Master Pete, who brought in a cushion and dropped it in front of me.

"It's halftime, wench, and my Heels are losing. Get on your knees and make me feel better."

I went to my knees and pulled down his sweats. His cock was already swollen and pointed toward me, with the foreskin partially retracted. I slid it back and bathed his cock head with my tongue, preparing for a leisurely feeding with lots of precum to fill my belly. Master Pete had other ideas. He grabbed my head and pulled it to his groin, driving his cock in my mouth. I gagged at the sudden intrusion and grabbed his butt cheeks to try to get his attention. He pulled back slightly, to the point where I stopped gagging, and held me there.

"There you go, darlin'," he said, "You just get to work on that and get your treat. And don't move your head: my cock's going nowhere until you empty my balls."

I looked up at him and saw an intensity in his eyes that filled me with desire and fear. I started in, sucking on him while running my tongue over his shaft and head. I felt the precum flowing and his cock swelling. His breathing grew heavier and he slid his hands over my chest. I squealed when I felt his fingers pinching my nipples through the silk, squeezing and twisting them mercilessly. I could feel my eyes starting to water and I looked up to him for mercy, but found a glazed look in his eyes. I would find no mercy there...

... but I realized I didn't want mercy. The pain was increasing, but, as it did, so did the pressure in my crotch. My tears were flowing, as were my squeals, but they were turning into moans of ecstasy. I pulled his cheeks apart and slid my fingers around his anus, my squeezes matching his. My tongue was going crazy on his cock, wanting to devour it and I increased the vacuum seal of my lips on him. Our eyes locked and we understood each other...

... and, in that moment, he erupted in my mouth and cried out incoherently. I slid back, maintaining the lock on his cock, so not a drop would escape. I wanted to feel every pulse on my tongue, to savor the heat of his passion filling my mouth. He threw his head back and squeezed his eyes tightly and I sucked on his cock mindlessly, wanting only to taste more and more, to let this man claim my mouth and, with it, my soul.

As we came down from our highs, I felt his cock shrinking in my mouth. I pulled him to me and buried my nose in his pubic hair, French kissing it like a lover. I felt his hands in my hair, and then he gently pulled me off. I looked at him through blurry eyes and smiled, then noticed the other Masters had gathered round to see what all the noise was about.

"What the hell just happened here? Are you okay, Galatea?" snapped Master Fred, looking confused and upset and... jealous?

"I'm more than okay, Milord," I replied, still looking at Master Pete. He lifted me by my elbows and bent his face over mine. Smiling, he licked the tears from my face and I smiled back. He rubbed my nipples gently and I winced.

"Thank you, Sir," I said quietly, "not just for the gift of your cum, but for the gift of my tears. I needed that more than you know."

"You're more than welcome, wench," he replied, "And, by the way, your tears are quite tasty. I'm looking forward to enjoying them again."

Master Jim looked intently at me. "It appears our wench has some depths yet to be plumbed."

I turned to him and winked. "Indeed, Milord, but I hope they'll be plumbed soon."

"You have no idea," he smiled and I licked my lips.

"In the meantime," growled Master Fred, eyeing me hungrily and a bit angrily, "I'm going to plumb this wench's mouth for a while. Keep an eye on the score for me."

They took the hint and returned to the living room. I gave him what I hoped was my sauciest look through still blurry eyes and palmed his bulge.

"I hope you have something tasty for me, Milord. I'm still mighty hungry."

He stared at me for a moment, then pushed me down onto the cushion.

"You want my cock, wench? Then get it."

He grabbed my head and rubbed it in his crotch. I felt his bulge through the cotton rubbing roughly against my face. I reached for his waistband and pulled the front of his sweatpants down, releasing his cock and balls. I tucked the waistband under his scrotum and inhaled his masculine scent, trapped by his pubic hair. I licked his sac and took each testicle in my mouth gently, not worried about the hairs that were left on my tongue. Something wasn't right with Master Fred; I didn't know what it was...

... but I didn't expect to find him hammering my mouth with his cock. He held my head in place while he pulled out to the tip than slammed in until my nose was pressed tight against him. While he wasn't long enough to reach my gag reflex, I started to wonder if he was going to break my nose. This was not like him at all.

"You like it rough, do you? Is this rough enough for you, wench? You need tears? I'll give you tears, bitch... is that what you need, wench? Is... this... what... you... need... wench?"

I was trying to gain some sort of tongue hold on his cock, but the constant seesawing in and out didn't give me a chance. The tears were starting to come now, but not the good kind. Master Fred was losing control, and I had no idea why, but I knew I had to force his orgasm. I moved my hands to the seat of his sweats and pulled him into me and held on for dear life. I sucked in my cheeks and began slathering his cock head with my tongue, sucking and licking and humming and slobbering, trying to wring his ejaculation out of him. As he finally came in my mouth, his hands grabbed the chair behind me and he leaned into me, exhausted.

"Milord," I whispered, "please sit here. You need a breather."

He pulled up his pants and sat in the chair. I spread his knees and knelt between them.

"May I bring you anything, Milord?"

"A shrink, perhaps? Did I hurt you, Galatea?"

I rubbed my nose and found it still moved properly. I smiled at him.

"No, Milord. You were, shall we say, on the rambunctious side, but I managed to survive your onslaught, and even get a rather prodigious load from you in the process. But, Milord, I must ask: what did I do wrong? How did I upset you?"

"You didn't upset me at all. Let's just say I was... inspired by Pete's performance. Was it too much for you?"

"It was surprising, Milord, but not in a bad way. I just didn't expect you to be quite so... forceful."

"I guess you're not the only one with unplumbed depths."

"Yummy," I replied, licking my lips. "But right now, Milord, I need to plumb the depths of my kidneys and give them some release. May I attend to my needs?"

"Permission granted, wench. Just remember to keep the door open."

"Yes, Milord," I curtsied and headed to the bathroom.

Based on the noises coming from the living room, it appeared the game was close and the Masters were focused on it. I pondered over Master Fred's words. I may be a wench, but I'm not a mindless wench. Master Fred was not a happy camper, but why? And what did he mean that he was "inspired" by Master Pete's performance? He's dominant, to be sure, and I love that, but he doesn't have the sadistic streak that Master Pete does. He's gentler, which I love in him... but I also loved that Master Pete was able to bring out my tears. I don't think Master Fred could do that if he wanted to. That's not who he is...

... and that's why I love our relationship. Each of my Master's is bringing me something I need, and not just their cocks. Each of them has has done something special for me and to me. It's something I haven't experienced before...

And you think they have, Galatea? You're all in deep and dangerous waters here: you're developing feelings for them, and they're developing feelings for you, each in their own way. Master Pete can chalk it up to having another pain slut; Master Gordon is acquiring a fellow fetishist; Master Jim has a toy of his own to play with and show off; but what about Master Fred? What does he have? Someone he's put in his wife's room, with her furniture, and what else, I wonder? Does he see me as some sort of replacement for her?

What have you unleashed, Galatea? It's too late to do anything about it now except ride it out and see where it takes us. As for Master Fred, I think it's time I rocked his world...

I returned to my station and waited for a commercial break. When I heard the break, I walked into the living room and stood in front of Master Fred. They all looked at me expectantly.

"We didn't call you, wench," said Master Jim.

"No, Milord," I replied, "you did not. However, I have something to say to Master Fred, and I want all of you to hear it."

All eyes were on me. Master Fred hit the mute button on the remote.

"What do you wish to say, Galatea?" he asked, puzzled.

"For all the talk about unplumbed depths, there's one person here whose depths I haven't plumbed nearly deep enough."

I took his face in my hands, tilted his head upward and descended upon it, He parted his lips and I completed the seal. I was the aggressor, invading his mouth and exploring every nook and cranny. I ignored the flavors of cheese and beer on his breath. I poked my tongue into his throat as far as it would go, and I orbited his cheeks. I put everything I had into this moment: it wasn't a kiss, it was a possession, it was a statement, and it was a statement I wanted every one of my Masters to see and understand.

When I had plundered him enough, I pulled away, gave him a wink and strutted back to my station, not looking at any of the other Masters. There was silence for close to a minute, followed by Master Fred asking, "What the hell just happened?"

"You tell us, you old horndog," answered Master Gordon.

"When's the date?" came from Master Pete, to general laughter. "Oh my God, he's blushing. Well, well, well..."

In response, Master Fred unmuted the TV and shouted, "Wench! Clean up this mess!!"

I returned to the living room and curtsied, "Yes, Milord."

I collected the plates and bottles and took them to the kitchen. I threw away the plates, forcing myself not to look at the remains of the pizza and ignoring the renewed rumblings of my stomach. I rinsed out the bottles and put them in the recycling bin, then returned to the living room.

"Milords, does anyone need anything else before I put the pizza away?"

"Look at her," smirked Master Pete, "the perfect little housewife. You've got a keeper there, Fred."

"Shut up, Pete. I think we're fine, wench. Anyone want another beer?"

"Last call, gentlemen," interjected Master Jim. "The bar is closed until the festivities are over. Water and soft drinks only."

Among general grumbling, I took their orders and returned with their drink orders. Then it was back to the kitchen and consolidating the pizzas into one box, which I put in the refrigerator. As I was wiping off the counters, Master Jim came in.

"When you're finished in here, go up to your room and wait for me."

"Yes, Milord," I replied, knowing not to ask questions.

By the time I finished cleaning up, the game was winding down. The score was close and the clock was almost to two minutes, which meant it would be over in another fifteen or twenty minutes. My Masters were caught up in the game and didn't notice my slow climb up the stairs. I was exhausted but excited, knowing the grand finale would be coming soon.

I walked into my room and collapsed onto the bed, kicking off my shoes and stretching my toes. I breathed, and paid attention to my breathing, not realizing how much tension had built up in my body. Being a serving wench was harder work than I had thought. I closed my eyes and drifted off, vaguely hearing cheering from downstairs.

"Wake up, Galatea. Time to get ready."

Master Jim's voice awakened me. He was seated at the desk, watching me. Downstairs, I could hear the sounds of furniture being moved.

"I must have fallen asleep, Mast... Milord."

"The game's over and we have no further need of a serving wench, so Master Jim is fine."

"Yes, Sir. Who won?"

"Duke, of course. We're almost ready for the grand finale. But, first, you and I need to talk."

I sat up nervously. "Am I in trouble, Sir?"

"I suppose that depends on how you define 'trouble.' What was the idea of the tonsil hockey you played with Fred?"

"Am I not allowed to do things for my own reasons, Sir?"

"Not when those reasons affect us all, and most certainly not when they affect Fred."

I had judged his kink correctly: he needed to be in control of the situation. It was fair: he had organized his friends to give me the experience of a lifetime. He had introduced me to pleasures I hadn't known I could experience. And he was juggling competing male egos and kinks, and something else with Master Fred.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"Absolutely, Galatea, especially now, before things go to the next level."

I closed the door and took a deep breath.

"Is Master Fred in love with me?"

To my relief and to his credit, Master Jim did not laugh. Nor did he smile.

"I don't know. I have a feeling you remind him of his wife in some way, but he's not very talkative about her. I do know he's protective of you..."

"So I noticed, Sir."

"... and he feels self-conscious around you, for some reason. Now, let me ask you a question: what's going on with you? Gordon told us about the kiss you laid on him and you practically begged Pete to collar you with that 'thank you for my tears' stuff. You should have seen Fred when you said that."

"Sir," I replied carefully, "that's exactly why I had to show my affection for Master Fred in front of all of you. I felt something was off and I needed to show him he's special to me."

"Special? In what way?"

"I've been trying to figure that out myself, Sir. It's not just him: all of you are giving me butterflies."

"Butterflies?"

"Yes, Sir, butterflies... that's probably not the right word for it. It's more a warm glow inside me when you're using me and I'm giving you pleasure. It feels good, Sir. It feels right. Even when Master Pete was abusing my nipples, especially when he was abusing my nipples, it felt right. The pain he was pulling from me was exactly what I needed him to do.

"When Master Gordon was painting my nails and making me feel like a pampered lady, it felt right. Even holding his penis while he urinated seemed right. I have no idea why, but it did.

"As for Master Fred, I just want to cuddle up next to him and let him hold me. I could spend hours with my head on his chest, just enjoying his body."

"And what about me, Galatea?"

"You, Master Jim? You keep me safe and grounded. When you're in charge, I can let go completely, without hesitation and without reservation. I know you think things through, that you're observant and that you know when to let things happen and when to make sure things aren't getting too weird... like you're doing right now, Sir."

He laughed. "I think you're giving me too much credit, Galatea, but I appreciate it, and I appreciate your openness and candor. Soma is a lot more reserved."

"Yes, Sir," I agreed, "Soma has always been afraid to be Galatea. But that's because he... because I have had to figure this out on my own. Do you know how hard it's been finding out that who I am, what I am, is what I've had to suppress for most of my life? And I still do: I've never had anyone who could me in all my messed up glory: my inner submissive, my inner feminine, my inner cocksucker. I've spent my life being the strong one for everybody else, but I've never been able to be strong for myself. And now it's too late to live who I am."

"It's not too late, Soma. Yeah, life sucks and your timing is terrible, but that's true for most of us. All of us have struggled with who we are, especially living here. We're all old enough to know what sort of perverts we would have been considered if we had tried to live our realities earlier, and even now. Those inhibitions are deeply engrained in us, just as they are in you.

"We were lucky enough to find each other and to become friends. I know you never had friends who were, shall we say, open minded and kink friendly. But, by the same token, we found that, while we enjoyed each other's company and even enjoyed some sexual play together, we still had needs the others couldn't fulfill.

"And then I found you online. You were literate, intelligent and full of interesting kinks. More importantly, you had a need to serve and a desire to give pleasure that's all too rare. And I was amazed to find that it really was about more than sex for you. I've noticed that, more times than not, you don't have an ejaculation when we've played. I know it's not because you're too old: I've seen some great cum shots from you. What I've seen, over and over, is that your pleasure is coming from somewhere inside you, not from external genitalia. Call it what you will: your inner feminine, Galatea: you are an extraordinary person, whatever label you choose for yourself, and you've been the glue that keeps us all together."

"You're going to turn my head, Sir," I replied coquettishly, trying to suppress those stupid tears that were trying to break through and ruin the moment. My heart was beating like a Buddy Rich solo.

"That's Soma speaking," Master Jim noted, "You're so afraid of showing people who you are, you won't even let yourself see you, for fear the facade you've built over the years will shatter and leave you empty and alone. Trust me, we all know how you feel.

"You've gone through life frustrated because you haven't found the one person who can take you where you need to go. That's because there's no one person who can satisfy all your carnal desires and inner needs. But, collectively, we give you what you need and you give us what we need. You need us, Galatea, but we need you just as much."

My tears were flowing freely by this point. I knelt next to him, hugged his legs and laid my head in his lap. For a while, we said nothing. He stroked my hair softly and gave me the space to think.

"I don't want to mess this up, Sir," I whispered desperately. "Please don't let me mess this up. I need you. I need all of you."

"And we need you, Galatea. You fulfill us. And, speaking of fulfilling," he said lightly, "you need to get ready for us to give you a fulfilling like you've never had. Strip!"

I stood up and took off my lounge outfit. I missed the sensation of the silk on my skin, but my center throbbed at the sound of my Master's voice taking control of me. He bent me over the bed and took the jeweled end of the plug in one hand. He twisted it and started to pull on it gently. I hummed contentedly as he played with it, then cried out as he slapped my ass hard and yanked the plug out. There was a sharp burning sensation in my pussy followed by an emptiness. Oddly, I wanted it back in me: it was as if Master Jim had taken a part of me. He inspected the plug.

"It looks clean. I guess the diet has prepared you properly. Go to the bathroom and give yourself one bottled enema. Then get in the shower and clean up. Just before you finish, expel the enema and wash up well. Then brush your teeth and return here. I'll have your clothes laid out on the bed. Put them on and meet us downstairs. Take your time, but don't dawdle.

"Yes, Sir," I grinned, "I don't want to keep my Masters waiting. Uh, about this," I pointed to the cage.

"We're going to keep that on a bit longer, but it will be coming off soon, I promise," he said as he headed downstairs.

I sighed and walked to the bathroom. After administering the enema, I took a long look in the mirror. There must have been something wrong with my eyes: I saw a tired looking old man in below average shape. Where was the Galatea my Masters saw hiding? Hey, who are you going to believe? Your Masters or your lying eyes? If you don't think you look good enough for them, do something about it. Lord knows you don't care enough about yourself to do anything about it; at least care enough about your Masters to look good for them.

In the shower, the scent of strawberries once again enveloped me and I felt Galatea stepping out of the shadows again. I relaxed and felt the enema leave me, taking away my insecurities and doubts. They would be back, no doubt, but for now, Galatea would give herself fully to her Masters; they would be her only concern. Soma would have been mortified at the clear liquid running down his leg from his ass; Galatea casually rinsed the douche from her body. I soaped up two fingers and plunged them in my pussy, wondering why anyone would find that an unpleasant task.

I dried off, wrapped the towel around my torso and walked to my room. On the bed, I saw a silky black negligee and a pair of black crotchless pantyhose. I slipped them on and looked in the mirror. The hose were dark enough to hide my leg hair. The negligee extended from my shoulders to mid-thigh and covered my chest hair. I pulled the hem up to my waist and admired the way my pussy was available for my Masters' use. I could tell it wouldn't be long before I would be dripping again, but, without panties, there was nothing to be done about it. My heart was pounding and my hands were trembling with excitement.

"Showtime," I whispered and strutted down the stairs.

The furniture had been cleared from the center of the living room. In the middle was a large leather chaise lounge with what appeared to be two large triangular foam pillows. I had an idea I would be spending most of my time on them. On the coffee table were several bottles of water, a large pump bottle, a lube injector and a package of wipes. Next to it was a small trash can. The fireplace was burning and the lights had been dimmed slightly. Standing incongruously next to it was an easel holding a whiteboard. On it was four columns of numbers:

1_____1_____2_____3

5_____8____13____21

34___55____89____55

34___21_____13_____8

3_____2_____1______1

Four chairs were arranged in an arc around the chaise lounge. Seated in the chairs, barefoot, wearing matching deep blue monogrammed robes, were my Masters. It seemed clear the robes were the only clothing they had on. Master Jim stood up. His robe was loosely tied, allowing me to see wisps of his chest hair and an occasional glimpse of his thighs.

"Welcome, Galatea. Please, sit," he said, removing the pillows from the divan.

I took my place, reclining and facing my Masters. I pulled my legs in and propped myself up.

"First off, I know I speak for all of us when I say you're looking lovely, especially after taking care of our needs so splendidly today. I hope you're not too tired."

"Not at all, Sir. It's been my pleasure to serve all of you, and I look forward to whatever it is you have planned."

"We have given you our health reports and you've given us yours. As of this point in time, none of us have any STI. As you have no doubt guessed, we plan to possess your body completely this evening, and we plan to mark your pussy with our sperm, both now and going forward.

You've finally decided to make a woman out of me... it's about time. My pussy is so ready to be taken and filled.

"You'll notice there are no condoms on the table. There's a simple reason for that: as your Masters, we intend to use your body unconditionally and fully skin to skin. You've already agreed to be our slave, and we're pleased with your service. It's clear our relationship is deepening and that we're all ready to take the next step in our commitment to each other. As is befitting such a commitment, we shall mark this with a very special ceremony, one largely inspired by you, and we intend to make us all fluid bonded. Are you familiar with the concept?"

"Yes, Sir. It means fluid exchanges will be limited to us and that there will be no condoms when you use my body. But what about my wife? And yours?"

"Our spouses are included in the fluid bonding. What this means for you is that your body is ours exclusively. You may not engage in any sexual activities with others, apart from your wife, without our express consent. Any such play will require condom use by all parties involved for all activities, including oral play.

"If you are approached by anyone wishing to engage in sexual activities with you, you must tell them that you belong to a Master and that he must approve all play for you. You will provide their contact information to me and I'll vet them. If they're not willing to provide the information I require, you won't be allowed to play with them. If you have needs that we are not meeting, we want you to tell us. Your happiness is important to us.

"There may be occasions when we choose to allow others to use you. We expect absolute trust from you and absolute obedience. On some occasions, we may allow your mouth to be used, but your pussy belongs exclusively to us. Your hard limits will be respected at all times, and no one will be allowed to harm you... you look uncomfortable, Galatea."

"With respect, Sir, I trust all of you absolutely, but what if I don't feel comfortable around someone? Do I get a veto?"

"That's a good question, Galatea. If we lend you to someone, one of us will be with you and responsible for your well-being. You will have an opportunity to see the person before they see you. If you have any concerns, you may present them to the Master-in-charge for his determination. If the person is someone you know, he'll stop the encounter from taking place if you desire. If you have other concerns, express them to your Master. However, if it's not a matter of health or safety, they will likely be ignored."

"But what if I don't like the way they look? What if they're not my type?" Visions of being molested by bearded truckers with smelly crotches and bad hygiene filled my head.

"Whether or not they're your type isn't really the point, is it? You asked us to mold you, Galatea, did you not?"

I looked down shamefacedly. "Yes, Sir."

"Who's the sculptor, Galatea?"

"You are, Sirs," I whispered, the full implications sinking in. Master Gordon had already had me hold his cock while he urinated. What would be next?

"Do you trust us? Yes, we're asking a lot of you and I understand you may be afraid of giving up this level of control. Your hard limits will always be respected, of course. But I'll tell you now we intend to stretch them and to take you places you won't necessarily enjoy.

"But here's the bottom line, Galatea: none of us here is young, and we don't have the luxury of playing games. We only have a limited amount of time and energy and are through with the game players. You think you know what you need, which is someone to take control of your inner self and let you explore and express it. You think that's us, and we hope you're right. But we also know you're afraid to let go. You've spent a lifetime denying who you are to the point that you no longer know.

"We don't claim to know you fully, either, but we want to find out; we want to see Galatea in all her glory. But we need you to trust us absolutely. Do you really think we would do anything to harm you intentionally? Do you think we would abuse the trust we're asking for?"

I looked at him intently, holding eye contact. "Of course not, Sir. You've never given me reason to think that. I trust you with my life, you know that. But you're asking me to trust you with more, aren't you?"

I took a deep breath. Damn it all, if I'm going down, I'm going down swinging. It's time for the truth.

"I need to know, Sirs: are you asking me to trust you with my heart? Do you... love me?"

I had never seen my Masters so uncomfortable before. They looked at each other and squirmed in their chairs. I refused to break the silence. If they wanted me to trust them, they were going to have to trust me with the truth. What would I do with it? I had no idea.

To my surprise, it was Master Pete who broke the silence.

"Darlin', you did something I've never seen before: you shut Jim up. That's pretty hard to do. I'll speak for myself, then. I want you, Galatea. I want your tears, your suffering, your pain. I want your body and mind to play with. I want you to give yourself to me and to wear my collar. I want to see you hanging from the whipping post, covered in sweat and tears, and I want to lick those tears from your face, the tears I give you, the tears you know you need. I want to see the look in your eyes you gave me today that showed you needed it and you needed me. Do I want you to trust me with your whole heart and give yourself completely to me? Are you man enough to do that?"

"I don't know if I'm man enough," I replied, taking note of the growing bulge in his robe, "but I'm pretty sure I'm woman enough."

"Hell, yeah," he shouted, to general laughter. I was glad to see the tension broken, but I also needed to strike while I was, for the moment, in control.

"And what about you, Master Gordon? Am I more than just a pair of pretty feet to you?"

"You know you are, Galatea, and you know I'll always protect you."

"Yes, I know that," I said, remembering his gallantry in standing up for me in the past. "You've been my knight in shining armor, and I love you for that."

"And what about you, Master Fred?" I asked softly, longing for and fearing his answer in equal measure. "Should I trust you with my heart?"

"Turnabout is fair play, Galatea... you already have mine."

I smiled at him, not trusting myself to be able to keep the tears at bay. I gazed at his face, amazed again at the beauty of his wrinkled face, longing to run my fingers through his white hair and lose myself in the blue pools of his eyes. I sighed like the teenage girl I had never been, lost in her first crush.

"So, is that a 'yes,' Galatea?" Master Jim brought me back to the present. "Before you answer, I want you to be sure you know what you're getting. Gentlemen?"

They rose, slid off their robes and stood before me naked, four perfect specimens of late middle aged men in all their imperfect glory. I took my time looking at them, eyeing them from head to toe in an exaggerated manner, watching them respond to my inspection.

Master Pete, of course, had his usual smirk. He had the best body of the group and he knew it. He rubbed his mustache, knowing how little I liked facial hair. I wondered how he kept the shine on his bald pate: did he polish it? Objectively, he was the finest specimen of the group, with a body that showed his regular workout habits and a cock that was longer than normal but not too thick. It looked to be at least seven inches and was fully erect, pulling the foreskin back.

Not to be outdone, Master Gordon's cock was even longer, and looked formidable, thanks to his clean shaven crotch. His balls matched his cock and gave him an impressive looking crotch. His thick crop of black hair was a marked contrast to Master Pete. The wrinkles on his face reflected a lifetime of sun worship rather than the wisdom shown on Master Fred's. He took care of his body, but not at the gym. It was perfectly average and perfectly adorable.

I was already very familiar with Master Jim's body, having lain next to him many times in our early days together. I wasn't sure how much longer his hair would last, given the thinning and the signs of male pattern baldness, but it didn't matter; I was more than happy to run my fingers through his chest hair. His cock was about the same size as mine, and he stroked it idly to keep it erect, though experience had shown me he wouldn't let me down when it came time for him to use it.

Master Fred was the most self-conscious, as his flaccid cock showed. His body was a typical dad bod, nothing to write home about, but with one of those tummies that's surprisingly endearing when you get to lay your head on it and play explore its innie. But that didn't matter when I was entranced by his face. He saw a grizzled old white-haired man. I saw a man full of maturity and wisdom who also, for some strange reason, thought I was attractive and desirable and who made me feel like his special lady.

"You know, this is the first time I've seen all of you naked in the same room. Actually, apart from Master Jim, this is the first time I've seen you completely naked. It's confirmed my initial thought: collectively, we're a mess. I'm pretty sure we're not going to be showing up on PornHub any time soon. But you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. You may not be pretty boys, but I wouldn't want to be owned by anyone else.

"You're going to have your work cut out for you, Master Jim, figuring out just what in the hell we are and how to keep us together. I don't even know if there's a name for what we have. I can't begin to try to figure out the dynamics and how they're going to develop. At this point, I don't care. All I know is that I love you all, I need you all, I trust you all and when are we going to stop the chit chat and get down to my Masters having their way with me? Get your cocks over here and make me your woman."

I lay back on the divan and spread my legs, humping the air in a series of bridges that caused my negligee to fall toward my face.

"Hold on there, little lady," Master Jim laughed. "We know you're a horny little slut, but remember who's in charge here. Don't worry: we're going to ravage your pussy, but we're going to do it our way. Now, sit up and behave."

"I'll be a good girl, Sir," I said demurely, smoothing out my negligee and batting my eyes at him.

"I hope not," he answered. "You recognize the numbers on the board?"

"Yes, Sir. I recognized them when I first saw them. It's the Fibonacci sequence, or part of it."

"I was inspired by your memorable dual blow job involving the sequence. It seemed only appropriate that you should get to experience that when we take your pussy. Here's what's going to happen:

"Each column will be assigned to a Master. As we go through the sequence, each one will lube his cock, then penetrate you the number of times in the sequence. You will be on your back so we can watch your response. How quick and deep each thrust will be is up to each man. The only stipulation is that no damage be done to you. At the first sign of blood, the proceedings will be stopped. If, at any point, your pussy is feeling too much pain, you may call 'Yellow' and we'll pause..."

"Not bloody likely that's going to happen," I muttered.

"And that attitude will get you in trouble," Master Jim retorted sternly. "If there's a problem, I expect you to let us know immediately. You can be the strong, silent type on your own time. Our slave communicates with her Masters, at least if she wants to remain our slave. A trip to the ER because you wanted to be stoic is something Soma would be stupid enough to do. Are you that stupid, too, Galatea?"

His words stung, and I knew they were meant to. The message was clear: we're going to take care of you whether you like it or not.

"I understand, Sir. I'm sorry for my thoughtlessness. It looks like I need your guidance even more than I thought. Thank you, all, for caring enough for me to give me tough love. I'll shut up and pay attention."

"Where was I? Oh, yes... every time a cock penetrates you, it will be freshly lubed. We want to avoid irritating your pussy as much as possible. And even with the stretching from the plug, you're going to know you've been filled.

"Anyway, you notice the sequence reverses and winds back down to one. That's because there's a limit to how long and strong us old guys can go. This will provide us the opportunity to take a breather.

"When one of us ejaculates inside you, he'll have a choice to continue with his count or to pass you on to the next person. If he passes you on, the next man will complete the count and pull out of your pussy before beginning his own count. If all four of us haven't bred you by the time the sequence has finished, we'll start it again.

"As I said, you'll start on your back facing us. After the second row of thrusts has been completed, each Master will have the choice of taking you missionary or doggie. We'll continue the sequence until you've been bred by each of us at least once. When that happens, I'll unlock your cage."

"Wow! You've planned this like a military operation, Sir. I'm not sure if I should feel honored or terrified."

"That's what happens when an engineer is in charge," he replied to the chuckles of the other Masters. "But that's only part of it. Here's where it gets fun.

"Were you wondering about the wipes? When one of us cums, he'll clean himself off thoroughly, then, at his discretion, will let you keep his cock warm in your mouth or your hand, or simply sit down and enjoy the proceedings while he's waiting his next turn in your pussy."

"So, who gets first shot? And who's going to be counting?"

"Good questions, Galatea. As for who's doing the counting, we'll take turns. And to be sure we get it right..." He held up a counter that warehouse store greeters used. I smiled and shook my head at his thoroughness.

"As for who pops your cherry, you'd be surprised how much discussion we had about that. We decided the only fair way to do it would be to let you do it."

"Me, Sir?"

"Don't worry: we're not asking you to play favorites." He held out four envelopes. "I've shuffled them, but you need to do so as well. Once you have, open each envelope at random. It will determine the order of your defloration."

I took the envelopes and shuffled them in my hand. They were the security kind that were completely opaque. I understood why Master Jim had chosen so elaborate a setup: my Masters were serious about being the first to take me. Of course, given the nature of the process, the first two in would only get one thrust each, but boys will be boys.

I opened the first envelope and pulled out a photograph of a large set of fully shaved cock and balls.

"Really, guys? Cock shots? Are you my Masters or a bunch of horny teenagers?"

"Yes," they all answered, leering at me. Master Pete even gave Master Gordon a high five. I think I could get used to this.

"Looks like Master Gordon is first. And the second cock belongs to... Master Pete. Great: you're starting me off with the monster cocks. Way to let me adjust."

"Actually," Master Jim pointed out, "you made the choice. It's not our fault you're a size queen."

"Don't worry," said Master Pete, "we won't ruin her for you and Fred... not much, anyway."

Before this could turn into any more of a locker room, I opened the third envelope.

"Master Jim will go next. Which means I've saved the best for last. Master Fred, after these barbarians breach me, I hope you'll show them how it's done. Now, can we please get this show started?"

"As you wish," said Master Jim.

I lay flat on my back on the divan. Master Pete pulled me down until my tush was near the end. He put my feet on his shoulders and held me up while Master Gordon slid one of the pillows under me to raise my ass and provide easy access to my pussy. He took advantage of my position to run his fingers along my pussy lips, while Master Pete gave my stocking clad feet a quick squeeze. Master Jim approached with the injector in hand.

"Time to lube you up, Galatea. It may feel a little cold. Open her up, Gordon."

He spread my cheeks with his hand while Master Jim inserted the nozzle inside my pussy and pushed the lube inside slowly. I shivered as I felt the cool, thick gel filling me and softening in the heat of my inner channel. After filling the outer ring, he gave the nozzle a push and I jumped as it penetrated my inner ring. He filled it with more lube, then pulled it out of me and wiped the outside of my pussy.

While he was prepping me, Master Gordon had moved to my head and lowered his scrotum to my mouth. I opened my mouth and took his balls inside. They filled my mouth to the point where I couldn't maneuver my tongue around them and had to settle for licking the bottom of his scrotum and soaking the skin with my saliva while his cock rested over my nose and between my eyes, the head tapping my forehead. I moaned with pleasure and crossed my eyes to gaze at the column of flesh that was about to take my maidenhead. At the same time, I felt two fingers enter my pussy and slowly twist around, making sure I was ready to begin. I closed my eyes and focused on the sensations as my breathing started picking up.

"She's ready for you, Gordon."

I took his cock and kissed the tip, licking off the precum, and giving it one last spit bath in my mouth.

"Be gentle with me, Sir," I said as he moved into position at my feet.

He rubbed his cock well with lube, coating it down to his balls. After wiping off his hand, he lifted my ankles and planted a kiss on each stockinged sole before putting them on his shoulders and pulling me toward him. I felt his cock brushing against the entrance to my pussy, and I tensed up, knowing what was coming.

He smiled and I smiled back, then hissed as his cock made its way in. He stopped after the head penetrated and held his position.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

I took a breath and evaluated. The initial burn had passed, aided by the copious lubrication. It was changing into something different. I wasn't sure yet whether it was pleasure or pain, but it didn't matter.

"I'm okay, Sir," I replied, "Keep going, please!"

He slid in a little further, then held when he felt my inner sphincter. His girth was spreading me, but manageably. I was being filled with a larger plug than I had been wearing, but it was a completely different sensation, softer and warmer. I needed more, and pushed my pussy forward in encouragement. He gave me a questioning look and I nodded. He pushed in...

... and I jerked my hips and cried out: my last defense had been breached and I was well and fully taken. The burn spread throughout my channel, morphing as it did.

"Oh my God!" I cried out. "Yes!"

Master Gordon stood straight and focused his energy on pushing his cock into me as far he could and holding it in place. I was panting hard; my body still hadn't decided if it was being pleasured or tortured. There was silence in the room.

After what seemed like an hour, I felt his cock sliding slowly out of me.

"One," said Master Jim and looked at me carefully. "Are you okay, Galatea?"

"I think so, Master," I gasped, "It's so different than the plug. I want more, please."

Master Pete wrapped my legs around his waist and placed his cock at the ready.

"Hold on tight, darlin'," he drawled, "Here I come."

And he leaned his body forward, letting his cock slide all the way in with one motion and pinning me down. I squeezed my legs around his waist and squealed with surprise and pain. The surprise turned into shock as he muffled my cry by planting his lips on mine and forcing his tongue into my mouth. He matched his tongue thrusts with the tiny thrusts from his cock as he bottomed out inside me. I felt his mustache under my nose; it didn't feel as funny as I had imagined. I wrapped my arms around him and sighed contentedly...

... which seemed to be the signal he was waiting for. He pulled his mouth off mine and pulled out carefully but quickly, leaving me pouting with frustration.

"Do you miss me, darlin'? Don't worry, I'll be back."

"One."

Master Jim was up next. He positioned my feet on his tush and his cock at my entrance.

"When you're ready for me, pull me in with your feet."

His cock was shorter than Master Pete's, but thicker, and I winced a bit when he first entered me. I was lubed enough that he was able to slide in, but the push through the inner sphincter again caused me to grunt with the shock of entry. He pulled back, but left the head in, then waited for me to pull him in. I took a breath and pushed on his ass. He responded with a quick thrust in, that had me hissing and breathing heavily. After grinding his cock in me for a bit, he pulled out and smiled.

"Two. And, Pete, you're slipping. She was still tight as a virgin."

"Not after the next round. When I'm done with her, she won't even know you're in there."

I closed my eyes and sighed. That sort of locker room bravado did not bode well for my nethers. And neither did the timing: between the short number of thrusts and the time to switch Masters, my pussy was returning to its original tightness far too quickly. As the sequence increased, that would, I hoped change. In the meantime, each Master was getting to take an essentially virgin pussy. I gave Master Jim a smile: whether he intended it or not, each of them was enjoying the sensation of deflowering me in what was essentially a gang bang. He was an evil genius, indeed: one more reason to adore him.

Master Fred put my feet on the divan and spread my knees. He took my wrists in each hand and, as he slid into me, he lowered his body to mine and moved my hands above my head. I moaned and he glued his mouth onto mine. His hands and cock were pinning my body while his mouth was sucking out my soul. Our tongues caressed each other while he pulled back and slammed in with full passion, one, two times. I raised my tush off the divan to hold him deeper and longer in me.

At last, he pulled out, and Master Jim called out, "Three. Holding up, Galatea?"

I caught my breath and gasped, "My pussy's aching, my clit is throbbing and my lips are bruising. More, please... I need more!"

"You want more, you'll get more," grinned Master Gordon. "Pete, hold her legs up. I'm feeling frisky."

"It's gaping time!" Master Pete grabbed my ankles and walked to the end of the divan, pulling my legs back and exposing my pussy. He looked down at me with an evil grin. "Be careful what you wish for, darlin': you're about to get it."

Master Gordon chose that moment to push hard into me. My eyes widened at the intrusion, but his cock was lubed enough that it went in without burning, though the dull ache of being so filled up was growing more intense. He pistoned me slowly four more times, never leaving my pussy and never giving it a chance to close.

"Five," said Master Jim, "Go easy on her, Pete: no blood, remember?"

Master Gordon pulled out and grabbed my ankles, keeping them in position as Master Pete slid over and pumped more lube over my pussy. He placed his cock in my pussy just enough to keep it open, grabbed my thighs for leverage and turned to Master Jim.

"Don't worry, Jim; I have no intention of hurting our Galatea, just... giving... her... what... she... wants."

He punctuated each word with a full bore slam into the depths of my pussy. He pushed in hard and fast and pulled out slowly, prolonging the experience. I started grunting and shaking my head from side to side, my bowels throbbing as much as my caged clitoris, the ache starting to move up my body. Tears were forming, but, also, something else.

"Eight. Hold on, Pete. Let me see your cock."

"Don't worry, Jim. She's not bleeding, but she is starting to open up nicely. Take a look."

Master Jim had finished lubing himself and I felt his fingers probing my pussy. There was no pressure as he went in. Master Pete must have widened me nicely. I sighed as he massaged my channel. He was happy with what he felt; so was I. He wiped his hand then ran it over my cage and fed me the liquid that was seeping out. I sucked it in eagerly, my heart soaring with the sensations.

"Please, Sir, fill me up. I don't want to be empty."

He placed my feet over his shoulders and started massaging my pussy with his cock. At one point on the in stroke, he rubbed against a spot that gave me a sudden hit of intense pleasure.

"Oh, yes... there!"

"Look like I found your G-spot. Let's see..." and he moved back and forth over the same spot. I started gasping and twitching with each move. I could feel liquid sliding onto my crotch from my captive clitoris.

"Thirteen," said Master Gordon, "Looks like Fred may get her first orgasm."

He slid in three fingers and started scouting for my prostate. He pressed a spot and I jerked up, squealing. I felt a stream of liquid starting to chill my scrotum. He entered me slowly and found my pleasure point. He leaned down and put pressure on it, watching my eyes roll back and my hands clench. He pulled back and started rubbing his frenulum over the entrance to my pussy. I heard him grunting; his eyes widened and he looked at me with a fierce hunger. I returned the look. Our eyes were locked when he cried out and slammed himself into me. I felt his cock pulsing and a stream of liquid forced its way out of my cage. I yelled incoherently and felt my clitoris pulsing.

In the distance, I heard cheering. Through tears of joy, I saw Master Fred's face descending on mine, his cock inside me. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled my lips up to his. I pulled his head to me and opened my mouth in surrender to his tongue. His tongue ravished my mouth and my hands ran through his hair. I wrapped my legs around him and rubbed his back with my feet.

When we finally separated, I whispered, "I'm so glad you were the first, Master Fred."

"So am I, Galatea. I love you."

"And I love her and Pete loves her and Gordon loves her," interrupted Master Jim. "Before we have a Hallmark moment here, let's get her cleaned up and turned over. Do you need a break, Galatea?"

"Just a little of water, Sir," I croaked. "And then, what I really need is for my Masters to fill me up. I need more." I meant it. The emptiness in my pussy was slowing down the diffusion of its warmth through my body. I could feel the roller coaster moving slowly toward the top; I wanted nothing to get in the way.

Master Jim pulled the pillow off the divan and helped me turn over. I heard the pump bottle being used while I went to child's pose, with my pussy in the air and my head in my crossed arms. Master Fred was seated next to me. I could see his cock hanging limply and hoped I'd be called to fluffed duty soon. I wanted him to fill me again.

I felt Master Gordon's hand on my tush, rubbing it gently, then giving it a smack.

"How many strokes did Fred have left, Jim?" he asked.

"Looking at the clicker, it looks like you have eight of Fred's left, then thirty-four of your own."

Master Pete bent down close to me and spoke softly in my ear.

"I hope you finished your astronaut training, darlin', because Gordon and I are going to send you into orbit. No slowdown, no mercy."

I smiled at him. "Promises, promises, Sir," and instantly regretted that. I should have learned much earlier not to challenge a Master in such a way. Of course, I had never been known for being particularly bright on that account.

Master Gordon took his time with Master Fred's eight thrusts, making sure I was open. The burn was gone, replaced by a warm glow that was filling me and moving me higher. He was thick enough that he was brushing my prostate with every stroke and I felt my clitty desperately trying to break free of its cage, to no avail. I focused on Master Fred's cock, willing it to return to its splendor.

"That's Fred's. Now, you can start your thirty-four."

He adjusted his position and launched himself into me at full force. His balls slammed into me as he bottomed and the impact made me raise my head and shout. I felt him moving his body around to find the path of least resistance. Then he started a slow, steady rhythm, focusing on my pleasure spot. He was holding onto my waist and straddling me, pulling me to him to maximize the depth, then pushing me forward gently to enhance the outward movement of his cock. I grunted in time to his movements and felt my body starting to lighten and glow. My clitty was oozing onto the divan. The only sounds were his grunts, my panting and the clicking of the counter in Master Jim's hand.

And then Master Gordon froze in place and started filling me. At the same time, I felt the divan growing wet under me and heard Master Fred call out, "Take a look at that: she's a squirter."

"Hell, you ain't seen nothin' yet," bragged Master Pete. "I'm getting me some sloppy seconds and makin' a batch of sperm soup in your pussy, little lady."

"Shut up and do it, you bastard," I muttered, "I need more in me. Fill me up." Air Galatea was heading for cruising altitude.

I heard Master Gordon slap Master Pete's hand. Master Gordon slid out quickly and, before I registered what had happened, Master Pete had bottomed out. All I knew was the piston never stopped; it had only grown more insistent. My cheeks were jiggling and I started to lose focus. I tried to talk, but only grunts and moans came out. My heart was pounding, pushing the glow throughout my body. I noticed dimly that Master Pete was spanking me with each thrust, but all I felt was the warmth and a pain that was transporting me to...

"God, yes! Fill me up... breed me, beat me, oh Masters... Rene, Rene... I'm going to cum again... kiss me, beat me, fill me up... more, please, more, more, more..."

I felt an explosion in my pussy and I cried out and started twitching uncontrollably. I felt arms around me and a sudden emptiness in my pussy.

"No!" I shouted, tears falling, "Not empty... fill me up! I need more... I need more... I need..." And I stopped needing, or feeling, anything...

To be continued: stay tuned for the grand finale. While you're waiting, feel free to leave a rating and a comment.