For a Good Cause

All characters are over the age of 18.

"I can't believe you're going through with it," remarks Bridget, "And yet at the same time I totally can!"

I laugh, feeling very much the same. It was totally insane, and yet also perfect.

"Well, it is for a good cause, and we all need to play our part to help others," I wink at Bridget..

What had started as a silly idea hatched on the couch in the early hours of the morning after a night at The Loft had slowly evolved into a delicious possibility, and on into a crazy reality. The local community center and outreach service had been hit by a reduction in funding, meaning a drastically reduced capacity to provide help to those in need. The backlash against the funding body and the groundswell of outrage and support had been profound, and while those responsible had hastily walked back on the defunding, the community had rallied to a cause to ensure there could be no future risk to the center's existence.

Fundraising efforts had popped up everywhere; from cake stalls to silent auctions to the commissioning of a theatre production, everyone wanted to chip in and help.

While Bridget and I recline on an opulent red couch in one of The Loft's many smaller rooms, a woman moans in pure delight while hard cocks slide into her from all sides. The men, all masked, and some clothed, moan along with her as they indulge themselves. Her body seems to sparkle in the soft light, the sweat catching the glow of candles and lamps. Her pretty, petite breasts move hypnotically while the man between her thighs pumps in and out of her wet pussy at a steady pace. Her head hangs back over the edge of the platform upon which she had been presented. A thick penis protrudes from dark suit pants, and she sucks him with abandon. We can see her throat opening and closing as she accepts him over and over. She has a cock in each hand, and she works the shafts of each in a distracted, intermittent way that seems to be perfect for the two men, who are both saying the most wonderfully dirty things to her.

My skirt is bunched around my waist, and while I sip on Champagne, Bridget's fingers trace my labia over the lace of my panties. Similar to the woman before us, her movements are lazy and languid, serving to inflame me without overwhelming.

"I should raise money for the center by letting men pay to fuck me here," I breathe, moving against her fingers, seeking more than what she is prepared to give me.

"Hmmmm, what an altruistic slut you are" she purrs in my ear, nibbling the lobe while she does, making me gasp.

My heavy-lidded eyes feast on the scene before me while the idea takes shape in my mind. It has been a huge fantasy of mine for as long as I can remember. Being fucked by cock after anonymous cock, taken over and over, covered in cum, while those servicing me grunt, and swear and delight in my body. It's why I'm always drawn to these tableaus at the Loft, and Bridget always gently teases me about wishing I was the girl on the platform.

As we watch, one of the men being masturbated roughly grabs at the woman's throat, causing her to stop sucking and start in surprise. In an instant, Henri is there, his tall, masked frame looming and terrible. But for him, not her. With a deftness that is as balletic as it is brutal, the man is... disappeared is the best way to describe it. One moment he is stepping over a clearly defined and agreed-upon boundary, the next he is no longer in the room. It happens so quickly that I briefly feel like I imagined it. But then Henri is there again, a safe and comfortable presence in the corner of the room, implacable, with his hands folded in front of himself.

"Respect gentlemen," is all he says in a voice that is more a low growl.

"Thank you Henri," breathes the woman, Lulu, in an accent that I can't quite place.

"Now, please, don't stop being my good boys," she sighs as she starts working two of the remaining cocks while the third slips back inside her. The brief, flacidating interlude is quickly forgotten, and soon Lulu is moving her mouth back and forth between the cocks either side of her while her frame gently rocks from being fucked.

Between having a cock in her mouth, Lulu exults and exclaims her delight, commentating her experience for us and sharing her joy with the world. She utters encouragement, delight and profanity in equal measure, her vocabulary extensive and full of creativity.

The man between her legs reaches down and massages her swollen clit. Lulu screams her orgasm as she pumps the cocks on either side. As we watch, she bears down, pushing his swollen cock out her vagina with a healthy volume of wetness. It's not the volcanic eruption that porn seems to illustrate as a normal skill or experience, but it's clear she has managed to squirt all over the cock.

"You," she gestures to the masked man who had been fucking her with the cock in her hand. "Come here, I want to taste that orgasm on you!"

He moves as ordered, and it is her power and complete control of the situation that is as intoxicating as the acts themselves. Henri's looming presence adds to that feeling of safety that makes my cunt clench.

The third man wastes no time, moving between her legs and kneeling, devouring her with his mouth and tongue without hesitation.

"Yes! Fuck! Good boy!!" moans Lulu before the thick cock glistening in her juices is shoved into her mouth. She sucks greedily at him, holding her other hand firmly around the third man's cock. He thrusts into her hand, leaving her free to concentrate on fellating the shaft beside her.

She screams around the cock in her mouth her second orgasm hits, the man's chin and cheeks slick with her. She pumps the shaft urgently, sucking eagerly, while her cunt is penetrated again. The man stills while she works him, before making a low, guttural sound in the back of his throat. Lulu makes an exalted sound while he pumps hot cum down her throat, emptying himself. This seems to be enough for the man sliding in her palm, and he too cries out while he sprays ropes of semen across her breasts.

"Fuck yes, give it all to me!" she groans.

The first man staggers back, collapsing on the couch next to Bridget and very nearly landing directly on her. We both shriek like chaste schoolgirls, scootching towards the other end of the couch while his still-erect cock twitches. We laugh at ourselves as he mumbles an apology.

"You! Cum on my face! Now," Lulu orders and she replaces his cock and fingers with both her hands while the man rushes forward. She rubs and fingers herself while he strokes himself standing over her. He is far more vocal with his orgasm than the others, crying out as he erupts, a jet of his essence lines her face from forehead to chin. She joins him in vocalising her orgasm, her knees high and wide as she takes his load all over her face.

Bridget and I watch on in awe as the scene plays itself out. The three masked men all thank Lulu politely under Henri's watchful gaze, collect their things and disappear through the door on the other side of the room. Lulu has a satisfied grin on her face, and she sighs happily at us, covered in the cum of three anonymous men.

"Enjoy the show girls?" she smiles. All we can do is nod dumbly. For me this is pure indulgence of a kink, and my body feels alive and tingly, and as Lulu steps through another door towards the showers, we gather ourselves and drain our glasses.

Later, we're back at Bridget's on the bed, across from each other. She rubs her pussy slowly, her eyes on my fingers as they do the same.

"...$500 each," I breathe, totally consumed by the scene playing out in my mind's eye. "Somehow I can't see them, to make it even more of a mystery."

I'm trying to hold back, resisting the urge to race to the climax that has been building since we spent the hours getting ready before heading out tonight.

"I'm on the table, spread open, ready to be used, oh fuck," I moan at the thought. "They come in one by one, Henri lets them in and they can do whatever they want. Some fuck me roughly, grunting while they use my sweet little hole."

"Fuck baby this is so hot," pants Bridget, squirting lube all over her clit and reaching for a vibrator and dildo.

"Some want me to cum too, and they fuck me slow and smooth while they rub my clit. Some of them spit on me and say nasty things, some say the sweetest, most encouraging things while they use my body."

She kneels up, sliding down onto the glass dildo while she applies the vibe to her clit. Her gorgeous chest is dusky and pink, and I know she's close.

"And it's all for such a good cause, taking cock after cock," she moans.

She's grinding on the phallus now, and like me I can see she is trying to hold back.

"Do they cum baby?" she asks, her voice slightly pleading.

"All of them, every single fucking one. Some in my cunt, some on my belly and tits, some on my face."

This idea is more than I can take, and I close my eyes as the orgasm hurtles through me. I can hear Bridget shouting as her climax hits. Mine is unrelenting, building and building, my whole body spasming.

Later, we lay in each other's arms, her fingers trailing over my arm.

"I couldn't do it, could I? Like, actually do it?"

"Only, and I mean this, only, if you let me watch!" At the idea of this, the horny demon attempts to stir again, but I'm spent. I cuddle Bridget and yawn. With her small frame folded in mine, we both slip into sleep.

--------------------

"I think it's a spectacular idea," replies Mistress T, the head of household at The Loft. "And I suspect there will be many charitable souls who will wish to dig deep for your good cause," she added, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'll get the offer up on our website this afternoon and inform the support team they will need to be in touch to go through safety and expectations."

I leave, my head spinning and an ache growing down low in my belly. This is going to happen. Mistress T, ever the creator of memorable experiences, tells me that I will not know how many or how few people have taken up the offer. I won't know until the night it all unfolds. The anticipation is almost too much already, and the date is not for another two weeks. I rush to my lunch date with Bridget, my cheeks flushed scarlet as I order the largest glass of wine they have.

Bridget watches me chug the wine, as I wonder what the hell I've just gotten myself in for. She knows me well enough to guess what I'm thinking.

"You're going to love it, you filthy slut!" she says, before turning serious. "And remember, I'll be there, and no one is going to fuck with you."

I look mockingly crestfallen for a moment and we both burst out laughing.

"But I want them to fuck me!" I pout, my bottom lip sticking out.

"And fuck you they will my dear, but they'd better not fuck with you. Henri and I will be there to keep you safe."

This thought, while seemingly incongruous with the idea of being used by any number of random men, is important to me and I'm grateful to her for saying it. I know that all precautions will be taken and all protections in place. The thought of being able to completely abandon myself to the experience is not helping the ache in my cunt.

Later that week Mistress T calls me. My tummy flutters as I see her name on the screen and a number of thoughts all clamour at once. Has no one responded? Is it canceled? Is it going ahead?!

I hit 'answer' and Mistress T's voice purrs on the line.

"I think you're in for quite an evening my dear," her voice has a smile. "All I will say is that there is a certain willingness amongst those who are eager to donate to charity."

My heart is instantly pounding, galloping away at her words. I look around at the people nearby, certain they can hear either Mistress T's voice or the thumping in my chest.

"There has been one request that has come through that has a considerably higher donation than others, but I have told the person that you alone would approve or deny the offer."

"Go on," I say hesitantly.

"One participant has quite the penchant for anal sex, and is willing to donate considerably more for the privilege of using your asshole."

I sit down, holding my phone to my ear while I consider this. The fact is I adore anal also, but only in particular circumstances and when considerable time and patience is shown in the lead up. The thought of some lust filled, aroused person shoving themselves up my ass gives me pause. Mistress T apparently reads thoughts also.

"If it's something that you would like to explore, I can tell you that the person making the request understands quite deeply what is needed in order to make anal sex rather lovely. Of all the respondents, he is by far the most qualified to make this offer. I would see to it that you were prepared, as it were, before the moment, and I would undertake this preparation myself."

Is she serious?! The mysterious and divine Mistress T, former adult megastar and professional Domme would be touching me?! I have to say yes purely for that chance! But the idea that, in amongst my fantasy made real, someone would use my well-prepared asshole for pleasure makes this an even better scenario than I could conceive.

"I... Yes please!" is all I can stammer.

"Wonderful!" she exclaims. "I will see to everything!"

I hang up, wondering if it's this hot all of the sudden for everyone.

------------

I enter the space that is to be my palace of pleasure. Bridget and I both gasp and giggle in equal measure; it's perfect! It's like a medical examination room has been reimagined as a sex suite. The center of the room is dominated by a large and very comfortable looking reclined chair with stirrups. Rather than cold white it is the colour of warm caramel, like a first-class seat on an aircraft. A control panel on one side can clearly be used to change the angle and pitch of the chair to suit any need. Next to the lower half of the chair is a large tray with an elaborate collection of the accouterments of sex; lubricants, gloves, bullet vibrators, a Hitachi, other instruments of pleasure. Bisecting the chair is a frame with a curtain, which hangs down, obscuring one half from the other.

The stirrups are confronting for half a second, until I think about having to support my legs myself. I feel like having to do that would become tiring or distracting, and the thought that I can just lie back and be fucked is wonderful.

Mistress T enters and she looks glorious. She is dressed in leather pants and a deep burgundy corset. Her salt and pepper hair is tied in a high, loose bun, and her scent is dark and brooding. There is a sparkle in her usually serious and appraising eyes. Her energy is one of instant command and both Bridget and myself cease our chatter about the room as she enters.

"Well girls, the night is upon us. I for one am very excited, and I hope you both are also," she tells us in her honey voice. We both nod.

"Good. Now, there is around 45 minutes until our first guest arrives, so it's time to get ready," she says, closing the door. "Bridget be a dear and strip our lovely slut out of her clothing would you?"

Her words seem to bypass my cerebral cortex and speak straight to my pleasure centers. I wonder briefly if this won't be all a bit much for me; just the thought of being prepared by Mistress T has my skin tingling and my mind swirling. Bridget does as she is told and strips me out of my dress until I'm in only a garter belt and thigh high stockings.

"Hmmm, what a gorgeous specimen you are!" Mistress T smiles. "Now, stand up straight, feet slightly apart, chin up. Reach your arms behind you and grasp your elbows."

I do as I'm told, feeling the distinct tremble through my core that signals my arousal beginning to gather pace. I feel the prickle of heat across my chest and my breathing has already increased in pace. I'm being ordered to stand at attention for Mistress T. The pose pushes my breasts forward and she makes another appreciative sound as she slowly walks around me. She traces her fingertips across my skin and I shudder.

"Stand up straight I said." Her pitch is low, her tone barely more than a whisper, but the power in it is undeniable. I try, unsuccessfully, to steady my breathing. She finishes her slow circle of me, coming to stand before me once again. I keep my eyes forward, as I suspect I'm meant to, as the tip of her nose lightly touches the nape of my neck. I hold my breath.

"A lovely scent you've picked, haven't you my dear?" she purrs.

"Yes Mistress," I whisper.

"Speak louder dear, I hate to have to ask for something to be repeated."

I have to catch my breath before I can answer. I've watched Mistress T when she decides to take control of an evening. I've watched her performances and wished to be the one under her gaze. I've touched myself imaging that she's directing people to fuck me, as will happen later on, but never dreamed that it would become a reality. This is incredible.

"Yes Mistress," I repeat, as loudly and clearly as I can.

"Good girl, that's a good slut. Now, your perfume is lovely, but I'm more interested in what your cunt smells like."

I whimper, actually whimper, at her suggestion. I manage to look down as she kneels between my legs, and lifts a perfectly manicured finger to my vulva. Her touch is feather-light, barely a pad pressed onto the spot where my rapidly swelling labia part. She stands again, and even though the touch was almost imperceptible, the tip of her finger is clearly glistening.

She lifts the finger to her nose and smiles as she smells me.

"Even better," she says with the whisper of a smile. My insides clench, and I feel a drip of my clear essence on the inside of my thigh. I'm so wet already, and even though this makes perfect sense, I still marvel at it.

"Now, let's get you comfortable," she commands gently while patting the chair. "Bridget, you can sit there." Bridget hops to attention, settling in a comfortable chair angled towards the stirrups. I clamber, slightly awkwardly, onto the recliner, momentarily getting tangled in the curtain. I manage to arrange myself in the correct position, my legs, now hidden by the curtain hover in mid air. Then I feel Mistress T's hands on my ankles as she guides my feet into the stirrups, adjusting them so that I am comfortable. The curtain hangs over my midsection, just above my belly button.

I picture what she can see before her. My legs spread wide, my pussy, swollen and dusky, dripping and pulsing, and my asshole glistening with my own lubrication. For a time, nothing happens, so my mind runs a slideshow of possibilities, and I moan.

"My my, what a perfect slut you are," Mistress T's voice is low and full of lust. "I can see your needy cunt twitching in anticipation."

I moan and swear at her observation, my hands slide down my belly and under the curtain, questing for my pulsing clitoris. I get so aurally aroused and her words are like being physically touched.

"Uh uh uh," comes the playful admonishment from the Mistress just as my fingers graze my mons pubis. "You'll have enough of that in good time my dear. We're here to ensure the gentleman who has paid for your pretty little asshole gets a silky, well-prepared hole to fuck."

I almost sob in frustration and arousal, and my hands clench and unclench in exasperation.

"Bridget honey," Mistress T coos, "We're going to need your mouth over here, but you're going to have to be very careful and listen to my instructions very carefully, can you do that?"

I hear Bridget jump up and answer.

"Yes Mistress T," she replies.

"Good girl," Mistress T tells her, and I hear her sigh. She's just as much of a fan-slut as I am. "Now, we're going to prepare her bottom. I'm going to tease her and relax her, and when I instruct you, I want you to use your mouth to please her clit."