The Bloom: A Free Use World Pt. 04

Part 4 - Aftercare

When Nora woke, it was to warmth and quiet.

For a few long, floating moments she didn't remember where she was -- only that her body ached in ways she didn't know were possible. Her skin hummed with pain and something sweeter, every inch of her sore but loose, her limbs heavy.

Her pussy and asshole, even trough the physiological changes that came with the aphrodisiac, ached from the use of what must have been over a hundred different dicks in the span of a couple days.

Then it came back to her -- in flashes at first. The last moments before everything went black: a hand locked at the back of her head, her nose buried in heat and skin, her lungs screaming as the world narrowed to noise and salt and darkness. Her body jerking weakly, then falling still. Had she died?

She drew in a shaky breath, letting her eyes flutter open.

The room around her was vast -- a softly lit lounge, warm with steam that curled lazily toward the high ceiling. Dozens of padded loungers like hers lined the room, each occupied by various female figures draped in plush robes or nothing at all. The air was thick with the scent of lavender, candle smoke, and still, faintly, sex. Somewhere in the distance, a quiet fountain burbled, mixed with distant moaning.

Noticing she was awake, a short, naked asian girl with a collar hastily walked up to her, knelt obediently between Nora's parted thighs, and started slowly lapping on her sore, swollen pussy. Her tongue working just enough to keep Nora relaxed but never enough to push her over. The constant, teasing pressure made her shift faintly against the cushions, her breath catching now and again. Even after being used as a cumdump to such extremes she didn't think was humanly possible a few days prior, the unyielding horniness never truly left -- it bellowed in her moist pussy, never quite letting up.

"You're awake," came a soft voice from the next lounger.

Nora turned her head and blinked at the blonde girl -- the one from the gauntlet -- who was reclining on her own couch, her robe loose around her shoulders. Her hair was damp and clung to her face in wisps, but her blue eyes were clear and calm now, though a faint smirk tugged at her mouth.

"Barely," Nora croaked. "I thought you'd have to leave?"

"Why's that? Because I passed out? No, no - I'm not a no-limits girl like you. Besides, passing out doesn't mean tapping out."

"You're not a no limits girl?"

"No, I just like being beat into a pulp. None of that other stuff," the blonde chuckled lowly. "You look good though. Better than most after their first no-limits night."

Nora let out something like a laugh, though it caught halfway and turned into a sighing moan as the girl licking her pussy started gently pushing on her clit with her thumb.

Across the room, a quiet moan caught her attention. She turned her head and saw a girl in a high-backed chair, her legs draped over a man's arms as he rocked into her slowly, tenderly, his forehead pressed to hers.

Nora stared a little too long before whispering, "They're... still...?"

The blonde followed her gaze and smiled faintly. "Part of the aftercare," she murmured. "Some of us... it helps to be reminded it doesn't always have to hurt."

Nora swallowed, her throat still raw, and let her head sink back into the cushion as she enjoyed her oral stiumlation. Her eyes drifted shut again briefly, the steady rhythm of the girl's tongue between her legs and the quiet moans from across the room blending into the warm hush of the spa.

The silence between them stretched, but this time it wasn't heavy -- just... warm. Nora let her eyes drift shut, the girl between her thighs keeping her anchored with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue. But then the blonde next to her spoke again, her voice soft and just a little amused.

"You looked really hot earlier," she said. "I caught a minute of your gangbang when I came to. It almost made me cum just watching."

Nora opened her eyes and turned her head toward her, blinking slowly. The blonde had sat up a little now, her loose hair falling over one shoulder as she offered a faint, genuine smile.

"Thanks," Nora murmured, her voice still a little hoarse. "I didn't really know what to expect."

The blonde chuckled lightly at that. "No one really does. I'm Claire, by the way."

"Nora."

Claire nodded, leaning back a bit more comfortably on her lounger. "Well, Nora... you sure picked one hell of a package. 'No limits,' huh?"

Nora gave a faint, sheepish smile, feeling almost a sense of... shame? Or pride? "Yeah, I've had some major changes happen recently." she admitted, "now I'm getting it all out of my system."

Claire snorted softly. "I'll say. I've never actually seen someone finish that gauntlet before. But then again, I'm not no-limits material anyways. I just come here every now and then when I need to have an outlet for my deep desire to be murdered by cocks. I'm a next-level slut out there too, don't get me wrong, but nothing hits like being in here."

Nora blinked at her lazily, admiring the blondes beauty. She had small, perky breasts barely visible underneath her robe. She couldn't have been more than 25, but clearly older than Nora still. "So which package did you choose?" Nora asked through a moan, the tongue circling her clit was starting to make her head cloudy.

Claire tilted her head, eyes gleaming just faintly in the soft light. "Two-day package," she said. "Extreme violence."

That caught Nora off-guard. She blinked. "... That's a thing?"

Claire laughed quietly, almost to herself, and let one hand drift lazily to her own chest, cupping her breast through the robe, her thumb brushing idly over the nipple as she spoke. "Oh, it's a thing. Not as intense as what you're getting -- no-limits girls are a rare breed -- but it's... more than enough to take the edge off for me. Two days of being properly manhandled, beat up, abused, roughed up exactly how I want it - while still knowing they wont actually kill me or anything. Then I go home, sleep for a few days, and get back to my very respectable corporate job as if nothing happened."

Nora swallowed hard, watching Claire's fingers idly knead her breast now, the faintest flush rising in Claire's cheeks. The blonde was clearly getting horny fantasizing about it.

"You don't... stay longer?" Nora asked softly.

"Oh God, no," Claire said with a low laugh. "I come here when I need to get absolutely destroyed, but I'm not like you, I have limits. This is just... therapy, if you want to call it that."

Her other hand joined the first, pushing her robe further open now, thumbs circling lazily over both nipples as she tilted her head back and let out a quiet sigh.

"Honestly," she added, voice dropping, "just thinking about my beatdown tomorrow is making me wet already. I can't wait to see what they do to you, though. First no-limit girl I've ever been present for making it past the first night. I might stay longer just to watch."

Her eyes flicked back to Nora with a glint of mischief, her fingers still working her own breasts with unhurried, hungry movements. "They're probably scrambling trying to figure out what to do to you,"

Nora gave a weak laugh, though it caught in her dry throat. "How long has it even been? Since the gauntlet?" she asked, her voice soft, almost afraid to know.

Claire tilted her head back lazily, eyes half-closed, and let her hands finally drift back to her sides. "About two in the morning now," she said after a beat. "You've been out for... four hours? Maybe a little more.*

Nora swallowed, letting her head sink back into the cushion. Four hours. Her body still hummed, her muscles loose but somehow still wound with need.

Across the room, the girl in the chair let out a high, broken cry -- unmistakably an orgasm -- her hands gripping the man's shoulders as he thrust into her one last, slow time before going still. The sound shot straight through Nora, and she shivered despite the heat of the room.

"My turn," Claire called out with a wicked grin, her voice cutting through the soft hum of the room. The absolute hunk of a man--broad-shouldered, effortlessly confident--strode over to them, his gaze briefly meeting Nora's. He gave her a small, almost courteous nod before turning to Claire, who was already arching her hips invitingly toward him. With practiced ease, he sank into her waiting pussy, and she let out a deep, throaty moan, her eyes fluttering shut as her head lolled back, lost in the slow, deliberate rhythm of his thrusts.

As if on cue, the girl kneeling between Nora's legs finally withdrew, her tongue leaving with an almost cruel final lick. The absence was immediate -- sharp and frustrating -- and Nora's hips lifted faintly off the cushion as if to follow, her breath catching. But the attendant only rose smoothly to her feet, gave a small nod, and disappeared quietly into the steam, leaving Nora trembling with renewed hunger.

Another figure appeared at her side -- a different attendant this time, clad in black with a silver chain at their throat. "You're ready to retire, Miss Winter," they said softly.

Nora nodded, though her body screamed at her to stay, wanting the licking to continue, and watching Claire slowly get fucked.. Still, she let them help her to her feet, her legs wobbly and her robe clinging to her damp skin.

The attendant led her through a quiet side corridor, the hush of the lounge fading behind her, replaced by a softer stillness broken only by the sound of her own footsteps. She soon recognized the hallway, and was soon met by the same door from last night. The attendant opened it and gestured inside.

Her room was warm and inviting, with a thick carpet underfoot and soft golden light spilling from sconces on the walls. On the low table one the other side of the bed was a bottle of dark red wine, a crystal glass already waiting, and a silver tray of small, delicate foods -- cheeses, fruits, and bread.

"Rest," the attendant murmured, turning around back to the door. "You'll need it."

"Wait," Nora called after her, the girl turning around. "Can someone also come fuck me? Like in the steam room? The other girl didn't make me cum, and I am so horny..."

"No."

"Please."

"Some helpful items are in the dresser, but you're on your own. Don't worry, you will be well fucked tomorrow."

Tomorrow? Although it was the middle of the night, and she'd basically just spent four hours in a coma from the extreme and abusive gangbang she'd just received, she was still aching for a good fuck. For a warm, hard cock deep in her holes. For a man to look at her with disgust and rape her until she couldn't think anymore.

God she hoped this need would settle down after the first week.

The attendant left, the door closing behind her with a quiet click, leaving Nora alone -- the wine and food waiting, and her body still thrumming, still hungry, still aching for more. I'm so horny...

She sank into the plush chair by the table and reached for a piece of bread, tearing it slowly and bringing it to her lips. But the second she tasted it, the warm weight of arousal tightened in her stomach, and she set it down again, frustrated. Her fingers trembled faintly as she tried a piece of cheese, but it was no use -- every swallow seemed to lodge behind the rising heat low in her body as she instinctively grinded on the chair, leaving a snail trail of her juices behind.

With a quiet, annoyed groan, she pushed her chair back and stood. Her eyes wandered to the tall, carved wardrobe on the far wall, its dark wood gleaming in the soft light. She stepped closer, half out of curiosity, half out of desperation, and curled her fingers around the cool handle.

Inside, the wardrobe was lined with velvet shelves and hooks, all neatly arranged with gleaming implements and toys -- some she recognized, many she didn't. There were rows of leather paddles, riding crops of varying thickness and length, pairs of glossy black cuffs with soft lining, intricate rope coils in muted reds and golds. On one shelf, a row of plugs in ascending sizes gleamed next to a polished steel spreader bar. Hanging from the inside of the door, she found an array of masks, blindfolds, and gags -- each crafted in rich leather, some with delicate metal fittings.

Below the shelves, nestled in a velvet-lined drawer, she found a collection of sleek toys: vibrators of every shape, from long and ribbed to small and discreet; a handful of jeweled wands; even a mechanical contraption she didn't quite understand.

Her breath hitched as her eyes settled on a small, pearlescent pink vibrator -- compact, with a gentle curve and a single button at its base. She plucked it from its cradle and held it in her palm, feeling the cool smoothness of it before clicking it on, staring at it humming softly in her hand.

She slipped out of her robe and eased back onto the chair, reaching under herself to guide the little toy inside her desperate pink hole. Even before it was fully seated, she felt her breath catch, her body clenching greedily around it. She set it on its lowest setting, letting it buzz deep inside her, and then scooted forward to the table again.

She picked up a slice of pear, brought it to her lips, and as she grinded subtly against the chair, the vibrator thrumming inside her, she finally managed a bite -- chewing slowly, eyes fluttering half-shut as the heat and hunger twisted together at last.

Nora leaned forward, elbows on the table, her thighs shifting restlessly as the little vibrator thrummed inside her, deep and insistent. She tore off another piece of bread, almost savagely this time, and stuffed it into her mouth, chewing around a low, muffled moan as her hips ground into the chair.

The faint, warm taste of wine clung to her tongue as she lifted the glass and drank deeply, feeling the heat of it bloom in her chest while another ripple of pleasure tightened low in her belly.

Her gaze fell on the crystal carafe of water, condensation beading down its sides, and suddenly she realized how dry her mouth felt--how cracked her lips were, how heavy her limbs seemed. She set the wine down and snatched the water instead, pouring glass after glass and drinking them greedily, barely stopping to breathe between gulps.

The coolness was blissful, though it did nothing to stop the faint tremor of an orgasm that rolled through her as she swallowed. Her thighs clamped around the little toy, the rhythm of its vibrations syncing with the faint pulse of her blood in her ears as she reached for a sliver of cheese and another bite of pear, already reaching to pour herself more water.

The wine warmed her from the inside out, softening the sharp edges of her hunger just enough for the first time all day. The food settled heavily in her stomach, the sweetness of the pear still clinging faintly to her tongue, and the steady, pulsing pleasure between her thighs finally crested in one last slow, shuddering orgasm that left her slack against the chair.

For a fleeting moment, she felt... not full, but quiet -- her body humming with exhaustion rather than just need. She blinked at the table, the remnants of bread and cheese blurring before her eyes, and only then realized how heavy her limbs felt, how her own heartbeat had slowed. With a weak, languid push, she rose and stumbled toward the bed, holding the vibrator in as she collapsed into the cool, waiting sheets. The last thing she felt before sleep claimed her was the faint, comforting throb of the little toy still humming faintly inside her.