Chapter 7: The Reward Table
The closet door slammed open, flooding the cramped space with harsh light. Chris flinched, shielding his eyes against the sudden assault after the suffocating darkness. Lucia’s silhouette filled the doorway, her green eyes gleaming with cold amusement. The low thrum of the cage vibrator, a constant companion in the dark, seemed to intensify under her gaze.
"Enough sulking, worm," she announced, her Spanish accent sharp. "Time for your reward." The word dripped with sarcasm. She grabbed his damp arm, hauling him roughly to his feet. He stumbled, stiff and shivering, the chill from the ice bath still clinging to his bones, the cage buzzing relentlessly against his groin. Bambi and Elia flanked her, Bambi already lifting her phone, its camera lens a predatory eye.
They propelled him back through the penthouse, past blurred impressions of expensive furniture and lingering guests. The air thickened with perfume, expensive liquor, and the low thrum of conversation. He caught glimpses: Conzi’s blonde head tilted back in laughter, Evana’s wicked smile as she whispered to Julika, Erna observing everything from a plush chaise like a queen surveying her domain. Nat, near the bar, glanced over her glasses, her expression unreadable before she quickly looked away.
Lucia shoved him towards the center of the sprawling rooftop terrace. Beneath a large, low glass coffee table surrounded by deep couches, a space had been cleared. "Down," Lucia commanded, kicking the back of his knees. He collapsed onto all fours, the polished concrete cool against his palms and knees. The glass tabletop hovered inches above his back, trapping him in a transparent cage. His reflection stared back: hollow-eyed, damp hair plastered to his forehead, the outline of the cage stark beneath his wet pants. The vibrator’s buzz vibrated through the floor into his hands.
"Position," Lucia snapped. He shuffled forward, lowering his head, presenting his face beneath the edge of the table. The scent of expensive leather upholstery and spilled champagne filled his nostrils. Footsteps approached. Sophia’s familiar perfume washed over him first – musky and sweet. He saw her bare feet, toenails painted blood-red, stop before him. Then, the rustle of fabric.
"Open wide, slave," Sophia’s voice purred from above. She didn’t kneel. She simply spread her legs wide and lowered herself directly onto his waiting face. Her athletic thighs bracketed his head, pressing his cheeks. The sudden, overwhelming heat and wetness of her cunt smothered him. Her swollen outer lips pressed against his nose, the slick, musky scent flooding his senses, thick and primal. "Tongue out. Now."
He obeyed, pushing his tongue flat against her opening. She ground down hard, a low groan escaping her as his tongue slid through her folds, finding her clit already hard and pebbled. "Oh fuck, yes," she hissed, rocking her hips forward. "Just like earlier. Remember how you choked on me? Do it again, bitch." She pressed down harder, forcing his nose deep into her pubic mound, his tongue buried inside her. He struggled to breathe through his nose, inhaling her scent, tasting her tangy arousal mixed with a faint hint of chlorine from the pool. He licked frantically, broad strokes over her clit, then delving deep into her entrance, trying to please, trying to survive the suffocating pressure.
Bambi’s voice chirped nearby, "Viewers, check out Sophia riding the fuckpig’s face! Look at him struggle!" A phone screen flashed, reflecting off the glass table above him.
Suddenly, the vibrator inside his cage roared to life. Not the low thrum, but a brutal, jackhammer intensity. Sophia’s control. He gasped against her flesh, his body jerking violently, a muffled scream trapped against her cunt. The intense vibration felt like it was shredding his balls, syncing horribly with the frantic lashing of his tongue against Sophia’s clit.
"That’s it," Sophia moaned, grinding harder, riding the convulsions wracking his body. "Feel that? Your useless cock screaming in its cage while you eat my pussy. Pathetic." She rocked faster, her juices slicking his chin, dripping onto the concrete beneath him. The vibrator pulsed, wave after wave of agonizing stimulation making his vision blur. He focused only on the slick heat against his mouth, the desperate need to breathe, the brutal buzz tearing him apart from within.
Sophia arched her back with a sharp cry, her thighs clamping vise-like around his head as she came, her cunt pulsing against his tongue, flooding his mouth with her release. He swallowed convulsively, gagging slightly on the sudden rush of bitter-salt fluid. She lifted herself off him with a satisfied sigh, leaving him gasping, face glistening with her wetness, the vibrator still buzzing violently.
Before he could catch his breath, another pair of feet appeared – smaller, adorned with intricate ankle tattoos. Elia. She didn’t speak. She simply dropped her shorts and knelt swiftly, shoving her petite cunt onto his mouth. Her taste was sharper, cleaner, like citrus soap. Her fingers tangled in his hair, yanking his head forward. "Lick, fucktoy! Get me off!" Her clit was tiny, a hard bead beneath his tongue. He flicked it rapidly, the technique learned through brutal repetition. The vibrator’s intensity dipped slightly, then surged again – Elia’s turn on the app. He whimpered against her flesh, his jaw already aching.
"Faster!" Elia demanded, grinding her hips in small, frantic circles. "Use your fucking tongue!" He obeyed, lapping and sucking, feeling her thighs tremble. She came quickly, a sharp gasp, her juices adding to the mess on his face. She slapped his cheek lightly as she pulled away. "Not bad for a worm."
Julika was next. Hesitant footsteps. Chris saw her blonde hair fall forward as she knelt. Her scent was floral, delicate. "Is… is this okay?" she murmured, not to him, but to the watching women. Her touch was tentative as she guided his mouth to her. Her folds were softer, less experienced. He licked gently, exploring. The vibrator settled into a low, insistent thrum – Julika choosing a milder setting? He focused on her clit, circling it slowly with the flat of his tongue. She gasped, her hips jerking. "Oh! Oh, that’s…" Her innocence vanished as arousal took hold. She pressed down, moaning softly, her movements becoming less controlled. "Ja… bitte… mehr…" Her climax was a shuddering sigh, her wetness sweet and light. She pulled back, blushing furiously, avoiding his eyes.
Evana replaced her instantly. No hesitation. Her dark eyes burned with sadistic glee. She gripped his hair like a handle, forcing his head back painfully. "Open, köpek," she commanded. Her taste was strong, musky, earthy. She didn't just sit; she impaled herself onto his face, driving her cunt hard against his mouth, forcing his tongue deep inside her. "Finger me," she snarled. "Two fingers. Now!" He obeyed, sliding two fingers into her tight heat while his tongue worked her clit. She rode his face ruthlessly, fucking his mouth with sharp, demanding thrusts. The vibrator surged back to maximum – Evana’s choice. Agony ripped through him again. He gagged as she shoved herself deeper, his fingers pumping inside her, her inner walls clenching around them. She threw her head back with a guttural cry, her orgasm violent, her juices gushing over his chin. She ground her hips down one last time, smearing her wetness across his face, before standing, leaving him trembling.
Conzi pushed Evana aside. "My turn." She adjusted her glasses, looking down at him with detached contempt. She didn't kneel. She stood over him, spreading her legs wide. "Tongue out. Reach." He strained his neck, pushing his tongue upwards as far as it would go, barely reaching her parted lips. She laughed, a harsh sound. "Pathetic. Can't even reach properly." She lowered herself slightly, just enough for the tip of his tongue to flick against her clit. "Work with what you have, maggot." She controlled the pressure, grinding herself against the tip of his tongue in short, sharp motions. The vibrator buzzed erratically under her command – sharp bursts of high intensity followed by maddening pauses. "Feel that? That's your existence. Moments of agony punctuated by denial." She came quickly, efficiently, a shudder running through her, her release dripping onto his straining tongue. "Disgusting," she muttered, stepping back and wiping herself with a cocktail napkin discarded nearby.
Noa bounced forward, her youthful energy jarring. "Me next! Me next!" She dropped down eagerly, her cunt pressing against his mouth before he could react. She tasted fresh, almost sweet. She giggled as his tongue touched her. "Oh! Tickles!" She rocked back and forth experimentally. "Make me cum, slave! Do it!" She set the vibrator to a rapid, pulsing rhythm. Chris, exhausted, jaw screaming, tried to focus. His tongue felt thick, clumsy. He licked and sucked, but his movements were sluggish. Noa grew impatient. "Faster! Come on!" She grabbed his head, trying to force his tongue harder against her clit. The pulsing vibrator made his muscles spasm. He gagged, overwhelmed by the taste, the pressure, the relentless buzzing shredding his nerves.