Conscious Consent

As I enter the room, it is empty; devoid, lonely.

“Oooh, oooh, oooh!” I mouth, soundlessly; as I feel the floor touching the now highly sensitive touch-pads under my feet.

I had not been prepared for these sensations. How could I; when I have no experience of touch-pads, in the first place. She had literally painted these onto the skin, under each of my now longer toes of both my feet. Both right, and left.

The sensations, so strong they over-power most every other sensation, as I am walking into the room. Had it not been for the sensitivity of my touch-pads, I would have enjoyed the fresh scent on the air. Now I barely even notice it.

I can still see the glossy layer of crystal-clear silicon, coating the black floor in the room. The floor seamlessly blends in with the walls, not just the one before me. The wall is electric metallic blue, which is delightful.

Had I been looking back, at the wall behind me; I would have seen the black wall, matching the floor, the door smoothly hidden. While the door is the same black, as the floor and wall behind me; there is no way I can see it, or even find it by touch even now.

To the right and left, I have silicon-white walls, glossy; covered with clear silicon and seamlessly blending into the floor and the ceiling overhead.

I hear a noise, and I turn to my right; just in time, to see the girl I had been sent to meet up with. The door is closing behind her, soundlessly; as if muffled, so that we are not hearing it.

“Greetings!” I hear the voice, of the mute girl.

While it is not a recording, but I still do hear her; as if she had been speaking to me, while I have the impression she is also hearing me. It is the ear-plugs, Mistress had inserted. She has them, too; just like she had inserted them into my ears, she had inserted them into her ears too. Allowing us to speak, to one-another. Almost, as if we had been on a date.

“Greetings!” I mouth, in response; almost as if the tube had never been inserted, and she is apparently hearing me.

“She is cute!” I ponder, as I am following her with my eyes.

I can’t quite help myself, but follow her with my emerald green eyes; soon noticing, how she is tentatively gazing into my eyes as I am facing her. Not that I mind, I am rather enjoying it. It is making me, enjoying everything.

Of course, she has the same green eyes, as I have; Mistress gave them to her, as well. Just as she gave her everything she had given me.

“Step forwards, kiss her; I know you want to, and you know she wants you to do it!” I hear Mistress, cooing.

She is blinking, in reaction to the suggestion; letting me know she heard it too, and she knows I heard it as well.

While this may be weird, but it takes all the awkwardness right out of the scene; making everything comfortable, and feels very natural after a moment. I had never been prepared for it, nothing could have prepared you for what this is like; but it is part of the scenario, and we had both agreed to partake.

To me, the girl has that special smile; that just makes me want to love her. Somehow, the voice I hear from her; just comes natural, for me to place it as coming from her.

“She wants to kiss me, then I am only too happy to oblige!” we ponder, as we move in the last few inches.

Without a thought, I place my hands on her hips; while I feel her hands, landing on my very own hips at the same time. My hands slowly slide down and towards her rump

Our lips meet, as I feel the slippery wet surface; covering or coating the coarse and rubbery underneath. As I press on, she does the same; I feel the stiff and rubbery slowly but certainly giving way, under the combined pressure applied.

As I part my lips, I know she is parting hers.

“Ooh, ooh; ooh, ooh!” we sigh in chorus, as we feel the sensation of lips pressing together.

She is not obligated, to go along with this; but reacts naturally to my advances, pushing me to continue. I feel excitement, pleasure and joy; in her reactions, as I continue.

“Wait, where is her hands going?” I realize; as her hands hit the rim of my anal tube, about to enter me from behind.

Of course, this is exactly what she is feeling, and I know it. If I had tried to prevent her entrance, it is utterly futile; as the tips of her fingers slide in with comfortable ease. I feel her fingers slip in, a moment before she is grabbing a firm, but gentle grip.

“Ooh, ooh, oooh; she certainly does have me in her grip, right there!” I ponder, in genuine and obvious delight.

“I love her firm, but deliciously squishy rump!” I ponder, as I am feeling her under the tips of my fingers, and in my grip.

We find ourselves instinctively mirroring one-another’s movements; enjoying the touch, as the moment is lingering.

“Dilate her, and you have her in your hands!” Mistress coos, seductively inciting me further.

“Oooh, that sounds exciting!” I realize; as I hear Mistresses voice, even if we all know she had heard it at the same time.

Mistress may not be in the same room, but I can still hear her voice; as if she had been just a few feet away. Is this, how I had come out; while she had been preparing me, for what I am exploring right now?

A moment after the idea had been inserted into my mind, I find myself pulling her rump up; dilating her as gently as I am able, feeling her doing the same to me. I am loving it, just as I know she does love it as well. I feel it in the touch, the grip she is having on me.

I feel the sensitive touch-pads, squeezing the rim of the tube; or what is now effectively me, my rear entrance. I feel my rump stretching, as she keeps pulling further and further, as she is dilating me as far as she dares. Of course, I feel the rim of her tube, as I dilate her. There is no denying it, and no way around it. Why? I love it, knowing we both enjoy this one moment together.

The sensations may a bit on the surreal side; both on the account of my touch-pads, but also in how her anal tube makes her rump into elastic clay in my hands. I can grab her, squeeze and dilate her; knowing she is not hurt, but rather enjoys this as much as she knows I am enjoying it.

As I am puling my hands apart, she is dilating comfortably. The more I dilate her, the more resistance I experience, thus preventing me to go too far; convenient, comforting.

I am losing myself, in the moment; enjoying her, and the sensations we share together. The sensations shared, pulls us together as one; ignoring everything, but the shared moment in time. It is but an instant, but it is ours and we enjoy it.

Between parted lips, my tongue is slipping out, into her mouth. I feel the slippery and wet in her mouth. As my tongue slips out, so does hers. She feels how wet and slippery my mouth is inside, after what Mistress exposed me to.

While free, I am still gentle with her; she is my partner, and I am hers for the night. For as long as this may last, I can’t bring myself to hurt her in the least. I can draw no pleasure, from the act that could hurt her.

“There, delicious; as an appetizer?” Mistress coos, suggesting there is more.

I do not break off, just yet, neither does she, permitting the moment to linger. Enjoying the moment, holding on to the kiss. I am still wet, and so is she; as I continue to slide my tongue around hers in her mouth.

The moment lingers, then passes; I am slowly pulling back, my lips slowly pressing together. The kiss lingers, but is eventually broken off. I pull my face back an inch, and so does she.

I lick my lips, as if the taste of her was lingering. She mirrors my sentiment. I continue to pull back, as she is mirroring my movements.

There is a wall behind me, and I see her pressing her back against it with me. I can’t push through, and neither can she; but that is all right, there is still another something left to enjoy. Together.

“Together!” we chorus.

“Lift your arms up, spread your arms wide!” Mistress coos; “A foot over your head!” she continues; “Now, if you spread your fingers wide; then gently press your hands against the wall?” she concludes.

I follow her instructions, to the letter; as I am watching my companion mirror my every move. I had spread my arms and lifted my hands over my head; before I spread my fingers, gently pressing the palms of my hands up against the wall.

“Squeak!” I hear, as the suction-cups that are the palms of my hands touch the wall.

I had felt it, and I had heard it; as I feel, I know my hands are sticking to the wall. She knows it, as well. We both know it.

“Give your right hand a tentative tug!” she coos, inciting me to act; “Give your left hand a tentative tug!” she continues.

Just as she says, I do; but my hands are indeed stuck, refusing to budge in the least. I can see her, as she is mirroring my every move.

I give my right hand a tug, so does she; I give my left hand a tug, and so does she. I see her hand sticking to the wall, just as I feel my hand, stuck onto the wall behind me.

“Just a little bit harder?” Mistress inquire.

I comply, she complies; and we both comply. The result is the same: each hand, stuck in place; unyielding, simply stuck in place.

“Excellent, excellent; there, perfect. If you permit, a single readjustment?” Mistress coos.

“If you please, permit me to send you an assistant?” she coos.

“Oh, yes; please, do send your assistant; we respond in chorus, nodding ascent.

I see my door opening, as a girl in silicon-white suit, entering the room. The suit is glossy, as if just polished; in order not to displease my eyes, while she is performing her services. The other girl, entering from the second door; heading over to my companion.

As I look closer, I see a skin-tone, light tan anime face mask; covering her face with a teen-age face, an excited smile spread out over her face. Her eyes, brilliant, bright sapphire blue. I see her ginger hair in bangs over her fore-had; diminutive braids in front of her elfin ears and a thick braid all the way down her spine. I even see the pink bow at the end of the braid, only because it is showing between her legs.

Manicure and pedicure, flawless. From my estimate, she is a B cup and excellent twin orbs on her chest. Incidentally, her nipples show through the suit. Unless, this is on purpose; just to tease my imagination, and stir my excitement further on. I do not know, I had forgotten to ask about this. Maybe I had been distracted. Should I have asked, or could I ask later?

She is a riot, a feast to rest my eyes upon; the assistant, Mistress had sent for me.

She does hold a pencil in her right hand, ready to serve me. As she is reaching me, she extends her right hand; drawing a line around the contours of my right and left hand in turn. There is a warmth, and a tingle to the touch as the gel is spreading along the rim between my hand and the wall. As she completes the circle, I realize my hand is fusing into the wall; as I am feeling the touch of the surface of the wall upon which I had so recently pressed my hand.

It is, as if my hand had been melted into the wall, while the wall had claimed my hand. Now I am stuck, in place; trapped in place, exposed and vulnerable. I am at her mercy. Maybe that is how I had wanted it, all along? I do not know, but she is about to let me know. I can not ignore it, or her.

I see the girl before me, just as I see the other girl before her. She performs her job; admirably, and to a T.

“There, all clear!” she chimes, as she is smiling up at me.

“Thank you!” I mouth, in response; as if it had been natural, for her to hear my original voice.

While I am still mute, with the tube firmly in place; I guess it has already become natural to me, that she should hear what I say. I do not know, and she does not let on. She merely does, what she is here to do. I have the impression; she is taking pride, in performing before me.

She silently spreads her legs, to the point her rump is bouncing onto the floor; as her hands are planted onto the floor before her chest, and her face is squarely on top of my mound.

“Oh, oh!” I mouth, as she is kissing my orchid.

If she hears me, or not; I have no idea, because she does not let on. Though I like to imagine; she enjoys what she is doing to me, and how it makes me feel.

I do imagine, her knowing exactly how I feel; when she does, what she is just doing to me. How I feel, as she is kissing my orchid.

“Ooh, ooh; Ooooh!” I exclaim, soundlessly; in response to her.

I feel her lips part and the tip of her tongue slips out. I feel it slip over the wet petals of my orchid. It is, just incredible. I have no words, I could speak; even if I had not been mute, due to the tube inserted into my mouth.

There is an excited eagerness to her, to how she is moving the tip of her tongue over my juicy orchid. Almost, as if she had been experiencing it herself. Maybe she is, as proxy. Who am I to say? How am I to know?

At first, she had merely used the tip of her tongue; licking and lapping away at the petals of my orchid. For a moment, she is moving outwards, coating the entire mound with her saliva; in her effort to tease me, and to draw out the most in the process.

She then continues back, inwards; before she is plunging her tongue, into me. Not very far, but maybe an inch, or so. Just the act of entering me, sends shivers down my entire spine, in response. I could not have helped it, and she caught me by utter surprise.

Once she had taken the plunge, she withdraws; starting to lick just the petals of my orchid all over again, stimulating me farther along the way. A minute later, I feel her tongue once more entering me; plunging an inch in and then pull back. Once her tongue had pulled back, she continues to lap away at me, my orchid. Once, each minute; I feel her plunge, into me. Like this, she continues.

I am hers, I am in her hands; helpless and vulnerable, at her mercy. I can do nothing, I have no choice. Of course, that is the point; she had helped me to reach the point, the position where I am in now. I can but experience, what she is exposing me to.

Is her age, the appearance deceptive; a means towards placing me, where I am now? It does work. There is nothing holding me back now, I have no reservations. I can do nothing, but to enjoy what she is serving me.

After ten minutes, I am experiencing the first orgasm; the first of many, but it is so pure, intense and powerful it is obliterating me and rocking my world to the very core.

Just as I orgasm, she pulls back; still sitting before me, waiting for me to recuperate and acclimatize to the situation.

How long she is just sitting there, before me; I have no idea, because I have nothing to go by. Of course; I my heart is pounding hard and fast, as I am panting.

Then the moment comes, and she is once more leaning forwards.

She is kissing my orchid, then parts her lips; her tongue is slipping out, and she is licking the petals of my orchid.

After a minute, I feel her tongue plunge; she pulls back, and starts licking again. I could have counted her plunges, but after my initial orgasm, I am distracted. I feel her lips around my orchid, and the tip of her tongue playing with the petals of my orchid.

Her lips are smooth and wet, just as her tongue is slippery and wet; obviously due to the lubrication it had been coated with. I feel the signs, but I do not recognize what it hinting. I am too excited, to listen to this subtle details.

It takes her an hour, sixty minutes; to push me from orgasm, to orgasmic. In the process, I am losing the grip of where I am, and even who I am; it is that much. The sensations I had experienced, as I walked barefoot into the room had been enough.

She had not stopped, and pulled back; just because I am orgasmic, but is enjoying a few more minutes. In the end, she pulls back; pushes herself up, before she is walking out of the room.

I am orgasmic, alone with the girl I had entered the room with. Not that I notice, or know the difference. We had been left, to simmer in our own juices. I am, where I am.

I am left, where I am; for twenty-four hours straight, to enjoy a single unending moment. It is a bliss. I am experiencing the constant orgasm, rocking me.

Eventually, the doors are opened; the girls enter, and pull the plug. As the tube is extracted, its hold over me is lost; I experience the long overdue climax and collapses where I hang. Soon thereafter, I am unconscious.

The remaining tubes slip out of me, as the master-bond had been severed; by the extraction of the original tube, inserted into my belly button.

My gloves and stockings are taken off of my arms and legs; just as my tubes have been collected, and saved for later use.