Feminized and degraded at KinkyClub

" No ! ". The two panthers turned in a single movement, without consultation, towards me to refuse in the same abrupt voice my suggestion that all three of them dominate women or men. Everything was said. I just had to keep quiet. A bond was born between the blonde and the brunette, the pale and the black, in the middle of a lunch that I had organized to bring together these two free and beautiful, wild and sensual women who were to meet. I don't remember the rest of the meal. Otherwise I had to tell them that I have never been submissive and never will be, but submissive, certainly, and also a bit of a whore.

Some time later, I received a message from A. my dear accomplice of long years of exploration of the twisted twists and turns of Eros, urging me to reserve this moment fixed by them and to join her in her lair at the beginning of afternoon. For two weeks, I prepared, still as sporty, eating little, shaved, asking the hairdresser to finely trim my eyebrows without touching my hair which was gaining a certain length.

A. puts on a lot of makeup so that I look the most beautiful, stunningly beautiful for the men who are waiting for me. I put on my earrings, the weight of which makes me, finally, feel my femininity. We take a taxi. A. spreads my thighs, pulls up my dress so that the driver can examine the top of my stockings, my garters and even my indecent female crotch. He sees our fingers intertwined. What does he imagine? I see him stroking his huge cock. What if A. suggested that I suck him off? Maybe, on the way back, M. would come back with us. They asking to be taken to the Bois, to rent me out to anonymous queues?

The door opens. We go down the steep staircase. M. welcomes us. A. and M. kiss, already accomplices. M. examines me. Finds me to his liking. Then, it's a series of scenes that are ultimately quite grotesque where I am whipped and worked on my breasts. I see this beaten girl asking if this is going to last much longer in the tone one uses when ordering a drink at the counter of a suburban bistro. Later, M. will examine his private hair as a horse dealer would do with a heifer. (Twenty-four hours later, the image of this beastly young woman turns out to be quite titillating).

M. and A are trying everything to arouse, in the men present, any desire to be sucked by me or to take me. Putting me on sale, simulating fellatio to show off my abilities. No reaction. The three of us are desperate. (Here, two thoughts. The first, A. and I went to a transvestite club a few months ago. Like a real bitch, I threw myself on every cock that came within reach of my mouth . Is it my sexual voracity too displayed? but I had only found one – and not the most imposing – who stood out enough for me to take pleasure in working. The second: why, in these clubs, is it normal and even recommended to see two women dyke each other but, on the other hand, is it strictly out of place for two men to suck or fuck each other?).

So we laugh out loud. It is a pleasure – and even a perversion – to laugh in this place dedicated, it seems, to tears and complaints. Is it this laughter that liberates? There are then several moments which are like a beautiful climb towards what, in my opinion, is the meaning of SM: brushing against the limits. When it comes to little girl provocation, I point out that the submissive's feet are dirty. A. and M. obviously ask me to clean them with my tongue and making my ass protrude.

A man ties my wrists to a ring attached to the ceiling. Arms outstretched, I obligingly exhibit myself to the heavy gazes of the males present (I love showing off, hence this acrid pleasure of taking taxis like a lost girl, or, as I did a few years ago, fucking in a Spanish church).

A. fists me for a long time, a mixture of pain and pleasure. She pushes her fingers into my private parts without gloves, literally and figuratively.

M. who pisses me for a long time, flooding my mouth and my body. Its musky taste, like a big brand perfume. M. who lets himself caress her round belly, her pretty buttocks (My tongue searched for her clitoris, but, despite her complacency in offering herself, I was not able to find it. I discovered her).

A stands behind me to hold my arms. M. hooks his fingers in my throat. She rubs my neck. With his other hand, squeeze my testicles tightly. I don't feel the pain which must be intense. I live intensely what is happening at the moment when Eros and Tana tos find their rightful place: side by side. The head of A. caresses my cheek. M.'s claw tightens on my windpipe. A. who twists my wrists and reaches towards M. as if towards an abyss. Mr. on the edge of my strangulation and his eyes shifting elsewhere. A dizziness seizes me. Everything stops.