Author: Priapus

Title: Busting a Nut

Part: 1 of 6

Summary: A man is lured out of a strip club to a palatial estate
and finds himself the guest of honor at an orgiastic celebration.

Keywords: MF, MM, M+F+, Fdom, cbt, fist, rape, tort, nc, snuff,
vore

Universe: Scythian Sisterhood


Busting a Nut

Priapus <priapic_wonder@yahoo.com>

http://castrisecret.tumblr.com/

John walked into the strip club knowing exactly what he wanted. 
He had singles to tip the dancers while he browsed, and fifties
for the VIP room once he made his choice.  Many of the dancers
here remembered him.

He was generous enough with the cash to get away with calling
them bitches and sluts, and pushing them around a bit.  He never
got rough enough to attract the attention of the bouncers, but
they sensed barely controlled violence, held in check only by the
threat of the much greater violence that would be visited upon
him by the hired thugs that guarded the club.

Even so, the girls all knew that if they couldn’t find a ‘nice’
guy who parted with his money more easily, they’d work their way
over to John, knowing that a quick hand job or blowjob could earn
them a few hundred dollars.

John was in the mood for something new tonight.  He scowled and
grumbled at the regular dancers who approached him.  Then he saw
her, the diminutive, shapely brunette making her way around the
room.  She wore her hair up, in tight dark curls, and was dressed
simply in a short toga costume that barely covered her round ass.
 She didn’t wear the standard acrylic platform heels favored by
the majority of the dancers, but instead wore sexy high-heeled
sandals that laced up around her legs to just under her knee.  As
soon as he saw her he knew that he needed to have her.

The DJ announced “Put your hands together for Melissa!  Catch
Melissa if you want to spend some time in the VIP room.  Next up:
Pandora!”  John’s desired objective for the night slid off the
lap of the man she had been teasing, and with feline grace and an
air of complete self-confidence, made her way to the stage.  Once
on the raised, mirrored platform she started to sway fluidly to
the music, and unclasped one shoulder of her toga, revealing a
perfect, B-cup breast, with a large, erect nipple and small dark
brown areola.  She swung around the pole a couple times, making
eye contact with a number of men, but always coming back to lock
eyes with John.

She unclasped the other shoulder and now was topless, her firm
breasts bouncing pertly as she danced.  She stared directly into
John’s eyes as she untied the belt that held her costume on, and
saw his look of pleasant surprise as she revealed the soft dark
hair of her pubic mound as her toga dropped to the stage.  She
stepped out of it, spun around and grabbed the pole low,
spreading her legs and parting her round ass to reveal the tight
pucker as though it were winking at her admiring onlooker.

Twenty minutes later, after a hefty tip with the bouncer secured
a few songs worth of privacy in the VIP room, John had Pandora
naked on his lap, his face between her perfect breasts, her tight
cheeks squeezing the outline of his thick, hard member through
his khaki pants.

“C’mon, bitch,” he growled.  “I came here to bust a nut.  Stop
teasing and suck my dick so I can head home to my cow of a wife.”


“Oh, sweetie,” she purred in some vaguely European accent that
John couldn’t quite place, “I can do better than that…you don’t
want to do it here in this nasty place, do you?  You could come
back to my place, yes?  Then you could take me in any hole you
want when you bust that nut.”

“Seriously?  You think I’m going home to some dump with a skanky
cunt like you?  Give me a fucking break.  You’ll probably give me
AIDS.  Then your fucking biker boyfriend will rob and throw me in
a ditch.  Just suck my dick, you stupid twat.”  John wrapped a
handful of her thick black curly hair and started pulling her
head toward his lap.  With the other hand he fumbled with his
zipper to try to unleash his stiff dick.

“Okay baby, okay.”  Pandora managed a faint smile as she slid to
her knees between his legs.  “No need to push, it’s one-fifty for
the blowjob, two hundred without a cover.”  She unsnapped her
little clutch purse as John dropped the four fifties into it. 
She left it open on the floor, under him, as she unzipped his
pants and slid them down around his ankles.  His hard, heavy cock
slapped his belly as she pulled down the briefs, and she aimed
his shiny head toward her glistening lips with one graceful hand.
 He was so enrapt by the vision of her beautiful face closing in
on his cock that he didn’t see her reach back into her purse with
her other hand.  He was so overwhelmed by the warmth of her
breath on his cock that he ignored the jab in the back of his
thigh as she pressed the tiny hypodermic needle into his flesh,
thinking it must be a flea, an expected nuisance in a place like
this.

As the drug ran its course he became putty in her hands.  Pandora
slid John’s underwear back up and pulled up his pants. “I knew
you really wanted to come back to my place, baby!  Just you
wait…you’re going to remember this night forever.”  She slipped
back into her own costume and coaxed the large man to his feet. 
He was in a daze, but conscious and following her guidance.

At the entry to the VIP lounge, Pandora reached into her purse
and pulled out the $200 John had given, and added another $200 of
her own.  “This fine gentleman had a bit too much and needs a
ride home, Larry,” she smiled sweetly at the burly guard.  “I’ll
pull a double shift tomorrow if you get another girl to cover for
me tonight?”

“Sure thing, Pandora.  Have a good night,”  He leaned toward John
and whispered conspiratorially, “You’re a lucky bastard, Pandora
is the best piece of ass to come through this joint in ten years,
hell...maybe ever!”

John would have been surprised, if he was in control of his own
senses, when the tiny brunette led him to a waiting limousine in
the back alley of the bar, said something in a foreign language
to the deferential driver, and packed him into the back seat.

The long drive was a blur, coming to end with the passage of the
limousine through the large iron gates of a palatial estate
secluded in a dark wooded area.  Pandora had been whispering in
his ear throughout the trip.  By the time she injected him with
the antidote to the drug she had given him at the strip club,
John firmly believed that he had accompanied the stripper to her
home of his own free will, to be the guest of honor at a party
she was hosting at her home.

As the limo came to a stop at the top of the long driveway, John
had regained his senses, and the sensation of the gorgeous nearly
nude woman snuggled close against him, stroking his heavy balls
through the fabric of his pants, had aroused his substantial
erection again.

“I’m glad you trusted me, John,” she whispered as a toga clad
doorman opened the limo.  As far as John could tell as he stepped
out of the car and through the doors of the secluded mansion,
everyone here was dressed for a Roman-themed party.  Everyone
except him.  And most of the people at the party were women,
beautiful, sultry women of all shapes and sizes.

“You live here?  What is this place?”

“I do live here…this is the Scythian embassy.” She saw his
quizzical look. “You probably never heard of it, most people
haven’t.  My home country is a small, wealthy city on the shores
of the Baltic that recently regained its independence.  I am the
ambassador’s daughter.”

Pandora saw the flash of worry and sought to comfort him, at
least for the moment.  “Don’t be concerned, my country is very
progressive sexually, as is my mother, the ambassador.  And
besides, she’s out of town, so this is my party night!  I make
the rules.”

As they strolled through the grand ballroom, John’s eyes could
hardly take in all the erotic sights.  All around were beautiful
women of all shapes, sizes and races clad either in togas, or
nothing at all.  The women moved around the mansion in groups,
approaching toga clad men—all powerfully built and heavily
muscled.  The women would lift the hem of the chosen man’s
garments to expose his glistening erection, and lavish expert
oral and manual attention on him.

It was not unusual to see three, four or even five women kneeling
in a tight circle around a single man, spinning him gradually so
that they could each engulf his throbbing manhood in turn, the
others stroking his strong thighs and chest, or perhaps probing
his shapely ass with their tongues.  Some of the women wandered
in pairs or triplets between these larger groups, watching the
action while playing with each other, deriving their pleasure by
watching the spectacle.

John hardly noticed the other men, those not receiving attention
from the women.  All ages, shapes, colors and sizes, these men
were dressed only in broad, flat, natural leather belts that were
shaped to completely cover their genitals and asses, and their
heads were all shaved bald.

These men moved more slowly among the crowd, never interacting
except to serve a glass of wine, deliver a plate of crudités or
clean up a spilled drink.  At one point John saw one of the bald
men being led by a tall, gorgeous naked blonde into a side room,
his head held in a subservient position, his eyes downcast, as if
he dared not look up at her great beauty.

“We have many more women than men in our country.  Those men in
exceptional condition, such as you, become our highly desired
consorts and enjoy the shared attentions of many of the Sisters
of Scythia at once,” Pandora explained as she led John into a
quiet antechamber.  “Other, less blessed men serve us while
enjoying the sights, sounds and scents of our nightly gatherings.
 These less fortunate are happy to wait for the particular,
special attentions that our sisters sometimes bestow upon them. 
So, you see, no man’s special resource is ever wasted in our
progressive society.”

Inside the private chamber that John was led to, two lovely,
naked young girls, a blonde and a redhead, awaited the arrival of
the hostess and her special guest on either side of a padded
massage table.  When Pandora and John entered, the two were
leaning over the table, kissing passionately; with the redhead
vigorously fingering her partner’s sopping pussy. The two girls
started with alarm and blushed deeply when the hostess arrived. 
They seemed no older than eighteen to John, but he was sure he
must be mistaken.

“Don’t worry, young sisters,” Pandora said in a comforting tone.
“It’s natural to want to explore each other’s beauty in a setting
such as this.  And you’ve filled the room with the wonderful
aroma of your virginal sex.”

Pandora turned to John. “You must be prepared for the evening’s
festivities…I hope you don’t mind my choice of attendants,
Calliope…” the thin, tall blonde bowed her head slightly, “and
Melinda.”  The redhead bowed her head more deeply, her long red
locks flowing down over freckled shoulders and full,
puffy-nippled breasts.  John nodded mutely, indicating with his
silence that Pandora’s choice was ideal.

“Very good!  I’m glad you approve.  Ladies, help our guest of
honor out of his clothing and prepare him for the ceremonies.” 
The two youths pressed themselves against the tall, strong man as
they unbuttoned his buttons and unzipped his pants.  He felt
their downy-haired pussies grinding against his thighs as they
stripped him naked, and their delicate hands roaming all over his
body, paying special attention to his throbbing dick, but even
more attention to his heavy sack.  By the time Pandora cleared
her throat to remind the girls to move on to their next duties,
the blonde was nibbling John’s nipples while stroking his shaft,
and Melinda had her index finger in his ass to the second knuckle
while rolling his nuts between her fingers.

The girls stepped back and composed themselves, guiding John to
lie face down on the massage table.  But before he could comply,
Pandora interrupted.

“I’m sorry to break the mood, if only for a brief moment of
formalities, but our Scythian customs are quite different than
yours, as you no doubt have noticed.  I simply need your
acknowledgement and signature indicating that you are willing to
uphold Scythian laws while you are here in our sovereign embassy.
 As a temporarily resident, you will be protected by our more
lenient interpretations of sexual and personal freedoms as well.”

John was taken aback by the presence of an official document in
such a setting, though he thought it quaint that it was presented
as a scroll, rather than the more typical legal-sized stack of
papers.  “Umm, I really don’t sign contracts unless I’ve read
them carefully…exactly what kinds of freedoms are you talking
about?”

Pandora made a silent signal and the two girls knelt before him,
stroking his thick cock and planting gentle kisses on his balls.
“Our age of consent is much lower than yours…we recognize that
the fruit of womanhood ripens long before the state normally
allows it to be plucked.  You wouldn’t want to get in trouble
with your backward social restrictions if you helped a girl
achieve sexual maturity here among her friends and sisters, would
you?”  He shook his head no and groaned under the teasing
ministrations of the beautiful attendants.  Their butterfly soft
touches made it hard to focus on the words on the scroll.  The
thought of deflowering these two lovely rosebuds nearly had him
convinced to sign, when a phrase on the document caught his eye
and gave him pause.

“Immunity from claims of sexual abuse…?” he read aloud in a
questioning tone.

At this point Pandora stepped up to him, and the two girls backed
off.  She straddled his erection between her thighs and he could
feel the wet mouth of her pussy stretching across his member. 
She leaned into him, and led one of his strong hands into her
hair, reminding him of the way he had held her and tried to force
her to go down on him in the club.  His other hand she guided
around her throat.

In a hoarse, sexy whisper, she explained. “You’re such a big,
strong man,” as she ran her hands over his pectoral muscles
“…some women must taste the full measure of a man’s strength,
take the core of his violent power into them as they experience
the heights of passion.  Sometimes these unleashed desires leave
marks and scars.  Don’t tell me you’ve never imagined what it
would be like to hold your lover’s fate in your hands when you
reach the very peak of ecstasy?”  John smiled.  He had imagined
just such a situation many times, choking the life out of a woman
as he reaches his own orgasm.

His hostess continued audible only to John, the smell of her
breath in his face.  “At the edge of what others consider
acceptable, we Scythians often play.  The edge brings the
greatest pleasure, but it also brings danger.  We shouldn’t let
the archaic morays of your puritan state limit us, should we?”

His hand was unconsciously tightening on her fragile throat as
she spoke, and she smiled a wicked grin as she peeled his fingers
away and proffered the document for his signature.  His own smile
was dark and foreboding, driven by images of forcibly pillaging
every virginal opening of the two young attendants with his
bloody staff, then feeling the final breath of his hostess escape
her throat as they reached a simultaneous orgasm.  He scrawled
his signature across the bottom of the scroll and took his
position on the massage table, fantasizing about the pleasures
that were yet to come.

The nubile attendants stroked and rubbed every inch of his strong
body with oil as he lay face down on the massage table.  His hard
cock and loose balls, positioned between his legs, got extra
attention, as though the two girls couldn’t resist toying with
them.  Pandora reminded them not to take him over the top.  As
the guest of honor he would need to preserve every ounce of his
strength for the ceremonies.

The redheaded girl seemed to have a special fascination with
John’s puckered asshole.  She poured oil down his crack and
slipped one finger, then a second inside his tight backdoor,
teasing his prostate and making him moan in pleasure.  She nearly
coaxed out his heavy load of cum without even bringing him to
orgasm, but she possessed a sexual wisdom beyond her years, and
seemed to know just when to ease the pressure.

Instead of milking a load of cum out of him, she ended up coaxing
a good quantity of oil into his bottom, and relaxing him
sufficiently so that she could insert the tips of all four of her
dainty fingers at once.  John admitted to himself that he never
would elected to be treated in this way, much less to receive so
much pleasure from it, but he was willing to surrender himself to
new pleasures if it made his hostesses more available to his own
dark fantasies.

They rolled him over and repeated the oiling and massaging of his
tall, manly frame.  This time they carefully avoided touching his
glistening, throbbing cock, a drop of pre-cum dangling from its
tip.  Instead, between periods of rubbing oil into his strong
muscles, the two attendants took turns rolling and oiling his
dangling balls, gently stretching and pulling them till they
sagged to their greatest extent, coming to rest on the warm
leather of the massage mat.

“That’s enough girls,” Pandora announced, breaking the reverie. 
The nude beauties stepped back.  Pandora strode up to the large
naked man and helped him to his feet.  She handed him a chalice
filled with warm, fragrant liquid.  “Here, drink this, it will
give you strength for the ceremonies to come.”

He took it, and quickly consumed every drop of the spicy, mildly
alcoholic beverage.  It reminded him of the rich, warm ciders
he’d sampled at a medieval fair.  “You keep speaking of a
ceremony, what is it about?”

“As the guest of honor, you will compete with an opponent of your
choosing in a contest of strength according to the traditional
rules of our culture.  The winner can compel any members of the
audience to fulfill any of his sexual desires, so long he remains
on the stage, as long as his desire continues and his stamina
allows.”  She smiled broadly at him, as though confident that a
man of his physical attributes would win such a contest.

“Will we be allowed be in the audience?” Calliope asked
excitedly.  Pandora paused.

“Are you both ready to achieve full sisterhood?  Have you
completed your lessons?”  The two youths nodded excitedly.  “Then
yes, if you are ready.  You must remember that the winner may
choose to take you in any manner that he desires, on the stage of
the amphitheater.”  She looked down at his enormous erection, and
turned back to them.  “He need not be gentle, nor does he need to
have any regard for your welfare.  Any options would be open to
him, and your public debasement would be subjected to the full,
violent power of his masculine lust.  Do you still wish to
attend?”

The two girls both nodded again, though Melinda seemed a bit less
certain.  “Alright.  Put on your white togas and accompany us to
the amphitheater.”

As they scrambled away to collect their skimpy costumes, Pandora
whispered to John.  “I think they would be honored if you were
the one who brought them into the sisterhood.”

“Do you need me to be gentle with them?”

“I have no say and neither do they.  Calliope, I think, seems to
want it very rough.  Melinda is less certain, but once the
ceremony begins it proceeds as it may.  As you put it, you may
“bust a nut” in any way you choose, and as many times as you
want.  Such are the laws of our country.”

“And if I lose?”

Pandora laughed as though that was a remote possibility.  “If you
should lose, you will still accomplish your goals for the
evening,” she grinned and leaned into his strong body, stroking
his throbbing cock suggestively, “but since I am the hostess of
tonight’s events, it will in a manner of my choosing, with my
choice of partners.”  His brow creased as he considered the
possibility of her choosing some old withered hag from the crowd
for him to fuck.  “Don’t be too concerned though, in the unlikely
event that you lose, I would be strongly tempted to pair you with
Melinda and Calliope in any case.”  Pandora admired the two girls
as they prepared.  “I think they are ready for their rites of
passage tonight.”