Please be gentle daddy, first time sharing erotica 🥺

You spot me at the bar, the only one open this late in a town this small. It’s dim in here, and the music streams from shitty speakers that have been here as long as anyone’s granddad can remember.

You’re playing pool with a few other guys in the dingy back of the room, the only lights those directly above the two tables. Everyone else in the bar is someone you know, and you don’t know me. I’m not from here, clearly just a woman passing through; beside my drink sit my phone and a key card to the hotel around the corner. My outfit’s the kind roadwarrior professionals wear: practical pencil skirt, light blouse. You can see I’m stiff and wound up from work. Needing a break—or to be broken.

You walk up and slide into the stool beside me, order your usual. The bartender gives a nod and asks about the family. It’s all fine, but I don’t hear much. You’re taller and bigger than me, and I shrink beside you. My shoulders move inward. I cast my eyes down. A good girl, you can tell. All I’m drinking is a glass of water so you know this isn’t my scene.

A few other guys sit to my other side, and you see me shrink further. But I don’t leave. No one acknowledges me, but I’m the center of the electric charge building in the room.

You’re the one to break the tension. As I start to turn on the stool, you turn your head and look at me. You smile and say casually, “No.”

I freeze and watch you. “I need to get going. Excuse me.”

You put your hand on the bare skin between my knee and where the edge of my skirt’s ridden up. “No, I think you want to stay.”

My face pales as your friends move behind me, two thick men smelling of sweat and dust and oil. They don’t touch me. Just stand in my way, trapping me with you. The bartender brings shots for the four of us wordlessly, and you nudge one toward me.

Out of politeness, I drink. You start to rub my leg and smile as you nudge another shot my way with one finger. I hesitate but take it. You nod at the last two.

“I need to drive home,” I murmur.

“You’ll be alright. Hotel’s close.”

I can’t argue and take the last two in quick succession.

You, your friends, the few other guys around the bar, the bartender—you all go back to chatting, pool, work. Except the two stay behind me, and your hand stays on my leg. Up and down, a little at first, pushing my skirt higher. My heart’s in my throat. Every muscle’s tense. You chuckle because you knew I wouldn’t fight. Flee, maybe, but that’s not happening.

You turn on your stool to face me fully, taking your hand from my leg and resting your elbow on the back of your chair. My eyes dart to your face and I bounce slightly in my seat, surprised to be free, but you quickly put your other hand blatantly on my inner thigh and run it up between my legs. I gasp as your fingertips rub my pussy through my thin panties. The guys behind me each grab an arm and hold me. I try to press my legs together, but you’re already there, stroking my dampening slit.

I whip my head around, looking for help, but those not engulfed in their drinks or pool are watching, smirking as your eyes meet theirs. My heart sinks from my throat into my stomach. But it’s not all that feels heavy. As you stroke me beneath my skirt, my breasts feel heavy. Like my hardening nipples weigh too much.

I tug at my arms feebly, whimpering loud in the quiet bar. It’s the only clear sound above the music as your smile grows.

Satisfied, you take your hand away and look me over. You spot the points at the front of my shirt, my bra too thin for how hard you’ve made my nipples. Like opening a delivery, you take the top button of my shirt in your long fingers and carefully undo it, then the next.

“Please,” I whisper. Then, louder: “I don’t want this. Please.”

You ignore me and unbutton my blouse fully, revealing my plain nude bra. Your friends slide the blouse off my shoulders, down my arms, and one of them unclasps my bra. I shift my shoulders but can’t stop you sliding my bra off my arms, revealing my perky tits to the chilly bar air. The two men pull my arms further back, making my tits jut forward.

My thumbable pink nipples somehow harden more before your eyes. Intrigued, you take each between your thumb and forefinger and pinch. I squeak at the sudden pleasure. You look at my face for a moment and pinch harder. I cry out, but you pinch even harder and twist.

My cries and pleas ring out across the bar to no answer but a soft chuckle. You loosen your fingers and softly tap my points with your index fingers, watching me arch my back and gasp at the sudden change in sensation.

Curious, you reach into my water glass and fish out an ice cube. The moment you touch its frigid edge to my pink buds, I buck in my seat. You tease me like that, rubbing the ice around one nipple at a time while I squirm and gasp.

As the ice melts too small for you to handle, you put it back in my water and grab another. I stare as you move it closer, bracing for the cold. Goosebumps rise on my arms.

But instead of what I expect, you dip your hand under my skirt again. I shriek as you push my panties aside with one finger and push the ice to my entrance. The shriek turns to a scream as the cold hits my most intimate nerve endings. I don’t even notice you grab another until you again violate me with it, pushing the first higher inside me. You fingerfuck the ice higher with your two long fingers, your thumb rubbing my clit so hard I scream.

I buck and yell. Curse. The melting ice feels like I’m pissing, making shame rise hot in my cheeks. Your friends hold me too tight for me to make progress, but my tits jiggle with every movement. You want to see how much it takes to tire me out.

Only after a minute or two do my movements slow and my screams turn to sobs.

I ask you, sniffling, why? And you shrug.

“Why not?”

You see the fight leave my eyes as I slump, and you nod to your friends. They pull me from my seat, where the ice cubes have left a puddle as they melted through my clothes.

With me on my feet—feet clad in simple black heels that keep me unsteady, you notice—you grab my skirt and panties together and force them down, fully exposing me to the room full of both interested and drunk men. The ones not too drunk to walk come closer. Your friends draw my arms behind my back, and then only one is holding me. I squirm and try to keep some dignity under a dozen hungry gazes, but I’ve lost all control.

“Those tits are responsive,” you observe. “Have you ever clamped them?”

I stare at you. You fish another ice cube from my water, and I choke out, “N-no.”

You nod. “Who want to suck these firm tits before I ruin them?”

A shorter guy comes up first and grabs my tits in his rough hands. “Damn, they sure are firm.”

He massages for a moment then slides his hands underneath each breast, lifting them then letting them drop. I jerk forward with the weight, and he smiles. He grabs each nipple firmly and lifts and pulls. I grit my teeth at the pain. He uses my nipples as handles to jiggle my breasts, and the rest laugh lightly.

“Let’s get to know you!” the man holding my tits booms. He slaps one breast and yanks the other nipple. His hand then flashes down to my hairless mound. I try to keep my legs together, but one of the men behind me grabs one leg and raises it by my knee, exposing all of me. The tits man stuff his fingers inside me and strokes into my g spot, making me gasp and jerk.

Emboldened, a few more men approach and start caressing the sides of my breasts as his fingers beckon my orgasm. I close my eyes, helpless. A set of lips take my nipple, circling with his tongue before sucking hard. My head drops back involuntarily as his teeth nibble me.

Hands further explore my body. They all work together to part my nether lips, too many fingers to count as they spread me open and more join the becoming fingers already overwhelming me. One hooks downward, another left, another right, all opening me up. I feel them fucking me at different paces, stretching me obscenely.

Then I feel a finger at my back entrance—the one I’ve never used, no matter how rough I had it in my pussy. I let out a mantra of no, no, no, no until the fingertip slips down, scoops cum from my sloppy cunt, and penetrates my tight ring. I shriek as the single finger fucks me, as too many fingers spread open my pussy. As I hear the sound of photos being taken on their phones.

Another set of lips takes my sensitived nipple over and sucks hard. Another set of lips take my other. They nibble and suck so hard it blanks my mind. Your guys have me from every vulnerable place: my nipples stretched and abused, my pussy spread by so many fingers, now two fingers in my ass, fucking slowly and spreading to stretch me.

And I feel an orgasm coming, amidst the pain, quaking in my clit and nipples.

“Enough of that.”

I whimper as all fingers and lips leave me. It makes the room laugh.

“I promised to ruin those nipples. Here we go,” you say, and I weakly look up to see binder clips in your fingers.

Oh no.

I start to struggle, but a thrum of electric want runs unbidden from my nipples to my pussy. Unconcerned, you come forward and flick my left nipple. I moan and jerk in your friend’s grasp. You grab my breast and knead it so my nipple flattens slightly. It’s already red from the biting and sucking. You tease it with the rolled metal edge, letting me feel the cold. You open the first and use it to prod up and down my breast, tweaking my point with each pass up, down, up, down, up, until on the last pass you stuff my nipple inside and let it close.

I scream as the sensation sets off an explosion between my legs. You quickly clamp my other nipple, and the orgasm crashes over me like a landslide. I tremble, cry, and moan.

You pull the clips, stretching the orgasm as your stretch my tits into cones, and I collapse between your cruel hands and the man behind me.

I breath slowly to catch my breath. I’m moved by multiple sets of hands and feel a rough tabletop beneath my butt. I’m laid back so my back is flat. Someone stretches my arms above my head. I vaguely feel something wrap my wrists and pull away, pulling taut so I’m restrained. I open my eyes to see belts fastening around my ankle and thigh each, binding my legs up and revealing my pussy where it and my asshole sit just off the edge of the table.

I wiggle against the bindings, staring at you, until I feel cloth at my lips. I fight momentarily because I know it’s my panties, but you grab my clamped nipples and tug, not firmly, but firmly enough to scold.

I open my mouth and let my panties gag me. A piece of tape seals my lips. I stare, waiting—fearful but in some ways… hopeful?—for what comes next.

You extend a hand and spread me open, stroking your thumb through the mess I made. You click your tongue.

“I didn’t think you’d be so easy. Not many women cum from just nipple torture.”

You take a seat in front of my grotesquely displayed pussy like some kind of bar gynecologist. The bartender brings you a beer, which you sip thoughtfully.

Your thumb strokes my clit and I squirm. You slap my pussy lightly, making me jump. Back to examining me, you lower your beer. I feel the cold glass lip rub my clit and shake my head.

You watch intently as you rub me with the glass. It sends bolts of terror and need deep inside me, echoing in my throbbing nipples that are already purpling. You smear my own juices up and down my slit with your beer until you push it up against my entrance. I’m so wet, there’s no resistance when it slips in. The room vibrates with excited murmurs as you circle just the tip inside me.

“Put it in!”

“Fuck her with it!”

You go slowly but surely, rocking the bottle in circles as you push it further inside me. The cold scrapes up my walls, the blunt end facing resistance, but you work it in a little at a time until I feel the flared middle at my lips.

You pull back slightly then fuck it slowly back into me, then out, pace increasing until I feel beer slosh inside of me. Our eyes meet, and you grin as you fill me with beer. Your free hand moves up and you rub my clit, taking me quickly to another impending orgasm.

Just as I’m closing in, you push the bottle in and lean into me, latching your lips at the base of my slit. Your friends are cheering. I gape as you pull the bottle from me, beer glugging into my womb. As the bottle clears, your lips seal over me. You plug me with your tongue for a moment, fucking me with it in circles. Your friends whoop, laugh, and snap pictures.

You move your tongue, and I feel the pressure as you chug from me, taking in your beer and my juices together, gaze never once leaving mine until you finally stick your tongue back inside me and lick me, hard, up as you close your lips to seal just on my clit. You suck hard as you move away, making a pop sound when you move fully off of me.

Beer still leaks, lightly fizzing, from my hole, as I watch you lick your fingers. You finger me, feeling the reduces wetness.

“That cleaned out her filthy hole,” you proclaim. “No one can fuck a cunt this dry. What’s next?”

Two of the men move close and study my pussy. One pushes in his fingers and pumps them raw against my rinsed walls.

“The tit torture did it before,” he says.

You nod, and the man wordlessly removes the binder clips, revealing my flattened purple nipples. The blood rushes back like boiling water and I groan.

He pinches my nipples perpedicular to the line of the clamps, massaging them back to shape. I roll but he holds firm, even when I shake side to side, making my tits jiggle. The initial pain fades as he massages more regularly, easing me back into pleasure.

You use both hands to spread me open, not only my pussy but my ass. A tall older man holds up a phone—my phone, I realize—and takes a picture.

The man gripping my nipples pulls them toward the ceiling as far as they go, forming perfect cones.

The bartender appears beside me with a spool of neon orange string, the plasticky kind from the hardware store. He grabs my left tit and mauls it at the base, squeezing with his fingers and testing my shape. Satisfied, he lets my breast fall and begins unwinding the string from the spool. The other man handling my breasts pinches my nipples again and pulls up. I whimper as the bartender begins wrapping my nipple in string. He wraps the base tight and low, string biting into my tender skin, to form a long pencil eraser-like teat. He does the same with the other. You begin to finger my once again soaked cunt, slowly. I stare as the first man then chokes one of my tits into a balloon from the base, stressing the binds on my nipples, and the bartender wraps each breast tight. When their hands move away, the first tit is forced skyward by the string wrapped again and again at the base. The obscene globe already begins to purple. And soon there are two rapidly purpling globes where my perky little tits used to be.

Both men pinch my nipples experimentally. They flick and rub. I squirm. You pinch my clit until I’m again at the edge.

“How about a game of pool?” you suggest softly. But you don’t stop fingering me. Instead, a man brings you a pool cue, and you then stop and stand. While your friends pinch and squeeze my bound tits, you line up the thick end of the cue with my hole. Men laugh and take pictures as you sink it inside of me and start thrusting.

And oh my god, it feels good.

Mindless, I hump onto the cue, restrained mostly by the hands mauling my nipples. You penetrate me slowly with the cue, finding how deep I run and pushing just a little harder against my depths, finding my A spot and letting off to bring the rounded end almost to my entrance just to thrust it back in a little harder.

You suddenly stop the cue and slap my clit with your hand. I shriek. You go back to fucking me with the wooden stick. An animal need has me humping against it and your hand, still on my mound, fingers spreading me open.

But you stop again, slap my clit. I groan, not from pain but frustration. Your friends slap my tits.

“You want to be filled?” you ask.

I nod, beyond caring.

You pump the cue lazily in my pussy as you hand it off to another man. He paws a fat hand over my lips and clit, fast light taps as he changes the rhythm of the cue to his own. You’re behind him a moment but emerge with another cue. The rough handed man slides two fingers in alongside his cue, making way as you double penetrate my pussy with the second rod. You pump it in and out, gloriously grotesque, but only for a few seconds. Then you remove it, dragging it down my slit and to my ass.

“Still want to be filled?”

I nod furiously, bracing myself, and you push against my tightest hole, rubbing the perimeter until I open for you, and the cue slips inside. I jump at just how easy it goes in and how full I suddenly feel. My eyes drift closed. Suddenly I’m softly moaning.

You laugh and slap my clit again. Both cues move faster. “I promised to ruin those tits. You’ll get really stuffed later. Where’d those clips go?”

Oh fuck.

I shake my head, but a second later someone’s stuffing one purpling nipple into a binder clip. I start to shake my head but, too fast, the metal bites down.

The pain sends me into an immediate screaming orgasm, my vision blacking out. I feel you slap my clit, pool cues jackhammer my pussy and ass, and I start to fall back into myself, only for the clip to bite my other nipple.

I wake up to ice on my nipples and ice water dripping onto my mound. Eyes still closed, I feel a different surface underneath me. I’m on the felt of a pool table now, spread eagle and limp.

“Ah, I thought you’d wake up soon.”

The cold bite of the ice is almost nice. My nipples are still bound in string and binder clips, but they’re slightly numbed. The mixed sensations make my head spin.

I open my eyes and peer down between my ballooned breasts to meet your gaze. Realizing my mouth is free, I smile sleepily. “I think I’m done now.”

You tsk and shake your head. “Not even close. On your hands and knees.”

I stare, and you raise your eyebrows and take a meaningful sip off a bottle of beer. I don’t want to think how the first one will make my cunt feel in a couple days. My limbs are free, I realize, and I pull them in. You still watch me, as do the several men still left in the bar.

Body aching, I turn over and breathe. The downward weight of my breasts shifts the sensation and reminds me it hurts. I groan as it mingles with renewed pleasure. Every nerve in my tits tingles with wanting, giving me the will to push myself up and into position.

You circle me with a pool cue and tap my dangling breasts to urge me more left, more right, back, forward. Tap-tap, I shuffle toward you; you prod the binder clips, I freeze.

My pussy’s wet again by the time you’re happy. I can feel the heat of the hanging lamp on my ass and the backs of my thighs and understand exactly what you hoped to spotlight.

Two sets of hands caress my thighs, one hand running quickly up to my slit. He holds my left thigh with one hand and pumps two fingers into my pussy, only to remove it just as fast. The other set of hands grabs my right thigh and starts pumping two thicker, longer fingers inside me. Then I feel the first man’s slick fingers at my asshole.

You watch from in front of me, pool cue held at your side like you’re waiting to take a shot. You know this is where I hesitate. We lock eyes. It’s a battle of wills, but I know I have no power. You’re in control and will be crossing my last boundary.

Two fingers in each hole pump rapidly in and out. I feel a third push into my pussy and grit my teeth. A third teases between my ass cheeks. I let out a low, feral sound, like a groan and scream in one, as both push a fourth finger into me and form cones.

You climb up onto the table then and kneel, your cock springing from your jeans, glorious and leaking precum. My mouth opens wider partly in a gasp and partly with the need to wrap my tongue around your thickness. We come together, my lips around your head. You slide over my tongue and into my throat, cutting off my air for a few seconds as the two fists pump me forward and back on you.

You cant your hips back and I suck in air through my nose before you grab my hair in a ponytail and fuck back into my throat.

As you bottom out in my mouth, I feel knuckles enter both my other holes with a final feeling of release. Two fists are inside me, still for a moment, or maybe it’s time stopped by my sense of heady awe at how stuffed I am. I think the men around us cheer. I’m fisted as deep as they go, pushing close inside me, occasionally synced with your cock pistoning down my throat as if the three might meet at my core.

Things go quickly after that. You cum in my throat. I cum as the two fists pull free of me with a squelching pop; the sound of cameras snapping photos and the feeling of a light breeze through both my ruined holes tells me enough about the situation down there. I collapse onto the table and lay there in a pile, tits throbbing, pulse pounding between my legs.

You and your friends turn me over onto my back once more and pull me to the edge of the table. The lamp shines right in my eyes, brutally bright. I glimpse my tits, brilliantly purple, nipples now white.

“I’m leaving you something to remember us by.” You tease my sore pussy, gently inserting two fingers and massaging my walls. “I’m going to put it inside you for safe keeping. Remember to take a picture when you take this out. Don’t take it out until you’re back in your hotel room.”

I peer stupidly down at you, wondering how I’ll keep anything inside my gaped holes. You chuckle at my expression and pat my mound.

“Don’t worry. We have one more binder clip. That’ll keep you closed long enough.”

As I groan, I feel you press something big and hard and round into my hole. It resists only a moment before you pop it fully inside me. And as promised, you pinch my labia together and let that last clip snap shut.

I shriek, and that only sends me into another orgasm. The bar is full of laughter, and I come down flushed with shame.

A few of the men help me down off the table and into my shoes. No one bothers with my clothes as you take my elbow and lead me to the door.

“Anytime you’re in town again, you know where we are,” you say jovially, slipping my phone into my hand. “And give my regards to Tom at the front desk.”

You open the door and give me a firm slap on the ass out into the night.

Somehow, I hobble down the street, simultaneously clamped and gaping. A car slows as it passes me but doesn’t stop. It’s a small town, middle of nowhere, and that’s the only car I see. The only light is the dimly lit hotel lobby a block ahead.

I push through its door unknowable minutes later to find a young man already watching me from the front desk. He smiles and comes out from behind it.

“They had fun with you,” he observes. “Come ‘ere and let me see.”

I approach the stranger slowly but stand with my arms loose, not even thinking to cover myself. He pokes the binder clips and squeezes my tits, making me groan. He then points to a phone propped up on the desk.

“They asked me to free your tits so everyone can watch the feeling come back into them. Step up closer so the view’s good.”

I do as he says, and he moves both my hands to behind my head. He steps behind me and reaches around so the camera has a perfect view as he pinches the binder clips.

The blood rushes back into my nipples, burning so hot I gasp. He spanks me and grasps a hand over my mouth.

“Don’t wake the other guests, ma’am.”

I nod. He fingers the string around my nipples until some hidden end comes loose. He unwinds it in slow circles from each teat, and the sting comes gradually. I moan and press my lips together as my nipples sear on the release of each loop.

It’s no release when he starts on my breasts. They stay swelled and huge, bruised purple from the slapping and abuse of so many hands.

He slides a hand to between my legs and rubs my clit just above that binder clip. I shudder.

“I can’t take that off yet,” I say softly. “I need to keep it closed.”

He presses my clit, making me wobble. “Keep what closed?”

“My… my pussy.”

He flutters his finger over my clit. “Good girl. Then I guess I can’t use that hole. Bend over and grab your ankles.”

I do as I’m told, and a moment later, he’s fucking my ass with a cock almost as thick as the fist that previously took my asshole. He knocks into the gift you left in my cunt, and the dual sensation has me quickly close to cumming yet again. My tits flop and flap for the camera until he reaches down with both hands and grabs them hard, squeezing my sensitized nipples between his knuckles.

I choke back my moans as he yanks himself out and gets down to his knees behind me. I feel his breath, then he tongue sticks up into my pussy, behind the clip, fucking me a moment before he licks up to my gaped ass and around my loosened rim. He tongue-fucks me before straightening, yanking me around, and putting me on my knees.

“Suck it,” he demands. And I do, taking it deep into my throat so my nose is buried in his fly. He pumps into me hard, once, twice, pulls out, and rubs himself only a moment before his cum explodes across my breasts.

He braces a hand on my head to catch his breath then pats my hair. “Go on up.”

I get myself up off the ground and walk, or really shuffle, to the stairs. I feel what you put inside me shift in my body with each step, but quickly I’m in my room.

As instructed, I only then sit on the bed, legs spread. I set my phone to video and unclip my labia. The black ball drops from me.

You’re online when I log in, and as promised, on the thread already full of pictures of all my most intimate parts and all the night’s degrading treatment, I post the video for all my followers, tagging Master_Magic8Ball with a thank you and a smiley face.