Chapter 174: Desert and More
The silence in the suite felt heavier after Leo left, a tangible blanket over Margot’s shuddering body. She didn’t move for a full minute, her face pressed into the silk, the smell of sex and sweat and him overwhelming. The echo of her own scream seemed to linger in her bones.
Two attendants, silent and efficient as ghosts, entered. They helped her to her feet. Her legs buckled, and they held her steady. One draped a robe over her shoulders; it did nothing to stop the slow, warm trickle down her inner thigh. With gentle but firm hands, they guided her toward the door.
As she passed the two-way glass, she forced her head up. She looked at her own reflection—dishevelled curls, smeared makeup, a raw, well-used look in her eyes that was entirely new. She stared at the dark glass, wondering which shadow was her husband, and a strange, fractured smile touched her lips.
Then she was gone.
In the gallery, the air was thick with the tension of five men who had just witnessed a murder of a marriage. ‘Green’ was sniffling quietly. ‘White’ had composed himself, but his knuckles were white where he gripped his knees.
Rupert simply sat, a statue in black plastic and chrome. The sensory deprivation was total, but Ruby’s narration had painted pictures more vivid than sight, sounds more intimate than hearing. He felt the ache in his groin, a painful throb against the rigid plastic cage that imprisoned him. He felt hollowed out.
Ruby’s heels clicked on the wooden floor as she moved away from him. “Clean up in Suite One,” she said into her headset, her voice all business. “Send in the next presentation. ‘Yellow’, you’re on deck. Let’s see what your wife has for us.”
A new couple entered the suite below. The wife, ‘Yellow’, was a sleek brunette in her late thirties, wearing only the mandated high-waisted black thong. Her body was toned, almost athletic. Her bull, a tall man with tattoos snaking up his arms, stood behind her, his hands already on her hips, his gaze already possessive.
“Welcome back, gallery,” Ruby purred, circling Rupert’s chair again. Her finger traced the seam of his hood near his ear. “Our next hotwife has been in preparation all afternoon. I understand she’s been walking the grounds with a little… helper. Let’s have a look.”
The bull guided ‘Yellow’ to the centre of the room. She bent forward, placing her hands on the plush chaise, presenting her backside. The thong, a mere string between her cheeks, did little to hide the thick, clear base of a sizable butt plug nestled firmly in her ass. It glistened with lube.
“Oh my,” Ruby cooed, her commentary once again aimed like a dagger at Rupert’s darkness. “Look at that, ‘Blue’. While your wife was getting stretched by beads, ‘Yellow’ here was getting her backdoor ready for company. That’s a professional-grade plug. See how it glistens? See how her hole is already stretched around the neck? That’s called anticipation.”
The bull hooked his thumbs into the sides of her thong and pulled it down to her thighs. He then placed a hand on the flared base of the plug.
“He’s taking it out,” Ruby narrated, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Slowly… slowly… letting her feel every ridge. Her ass is going to gape for him. It’s going to look like a little winking mouth, hungry and empty.”
With a firm, slow pull, the bull extracted the plug. It came free with a soft, wet pop. ‘Yellow’ moaned, pushing back against nothing. As promised, her anus remained slightly open, a dark, relaxed pucker.
“Fuck,” whispered ‘White’ in the gallery, the word slipping out.
“Now he’s rubbing the head of his cock against it,” Ruby continued, her words deliberate and obscene. “He’s not using his fingers. He’s not going in gentle. He’s just pressing that big, bare cockhead right against her loose shithole. He’s spitting on it for lube. Classy. He’s pushing.”
‘Yellow’ let out a sharp cry as the bull began his entry. It wasn’t a smooth slide; there was resistance, a tight, burning stretch that was visibly different from Margot’s reception.
“He’s going in raw and hard,” Ruby said, a note of sadistic pleasure in her voice. “Her ass is swallowing him an inch at a time. It’s fucking primitive. It’s taking everything she’s got. Look at her face in the mirror! She’s in pain. She’s in heaven.”
The bull established a brutal, shallow rhythm, each thrust sinking deeper. The slapping sound was sharper, drier. ‘Yellow’s’ cries were guttural, torn from a place beyond decorum.
Ruby abandoned her post by the window and walked back to Rupert. She stood directly behind him. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, then slid down his chest. Her fingers found his nipples, the new piercings still tender. She pinched them hard, twisting the metal bars.
Rupert jolted in his chair, a muffled grunt escaping the hood’s muzzle.
“Hurts, doesn’t it ‘Blue’?” she whispered, her breath hot against the plastic where his ear would be. She twisted harder. “Good. You should feel something. While that man rearranges a stranger’s asshole, I’m here, playing with your nips. This is your role now. To feel small, useless pains while the women feel… everything.”
One of her hands left his chest and trailed down, over the hard plane of his stomach, until her fingers danced over the plastic chastity device. She traced its outline, found the lock, gave it a mocking jiggle.
“And this,” she sighed, as if bored. “This is the shrine to your irrelevance. Locked until July. Maybe longer. I have the key right here.” She tapped a small, cold key against the device’s side. “It’s so… insignificant. A tiny cage for a tiny part of you. Meanwhile, down there, a real man is claiming territory your pathetic dick has never even dreamed of visiting.”
Below, the bull had found his stride. He was fucking ‘Yellow’s’ ass with deep, full-stroke pistons, one hand fisted in her hair, the other smacking her ass cheek, leaving a red handprint. Her moans were continuous now, a steady stream of filth and affirmation. “Yes! Fuck my ass! Rip me open! God, yes!”
Ruby’s hand remained on Rupert’s cage, a constant, taunting pressure. She leaned closer, her voice the only thing in his universe.
“Your wife is in her room now, ‘Blue’. She’s sore. She’s full of another man’s cum. It might be leaking into her panties as she walks. She’s probably touching herself, thinking of him, of how he stretched her, how he made her scream. She won’t be thinking of you. Not of this.” She tapped the plastic again. “You’re an accountant. You balance columns. But you can’t balance this. Your wife’s pleasure is now a debt only other men can pay.”
The bull below roared, slamming home one final time, his body shuddering as he emptied himself into ‘Yellow’s’ rectum. She collapsed onto the chaise, sobbing.
Ruby finally removed her hand. She straightened up, her tone shifting back to one of cool command.
“A beautiful, messy presentation. Gallery, acknowledge ‘Yellow’.”
A weak, scattered patter of applause came from the other chairs.
Ruby walked to the front of the gallery, her silhouette framed by the suite’s light. She addressed them all, but her words were for the man in the hood.