u/TheMrCasey

Rope is for nerds who fuck.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Most of the people in my vanilla life have no idea what I do behind closed doors. They see a tall, nerdy, friendly guy, and some have questioned if I’ve ever even had sex in my life.

That’s my business. They don’t need to know who I’m fucking, or how I’m fucking them.

And honestly, if I explained to them that I have a small harem of sluts that like group sex and being tied up… there’s just no way they’d believe me. Fuck, I was there, and I keep taking pictures, and I still don’t believe my life.

Nerds fuck. And with the internet and the rules structure provided by BDSM, we’ve been finding other kinky, hot nerds and doing really hot shit.

And Shibari? That’s some advanced nerd hot shit. So advanced, it has homework.

I was getting ready to take Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A with me to a rope class in 30 minutes. I was thinking about doing a Shinju for Suspension coupled with a Swiss Seat. Nothing super fancy, but with it being our first suspension tie together, I wanted to keep her arms and legs free.

But also, being that it was our first suspension tie together, and I’m a nerd, I was doing that homework. For the fourth time, I was rewatching the videos on how to do the ties. I had notes and screenshots of each step of the way, and I was feeling confident in my abilities to do it safely. But hey, one more round of video lectures can’t hurt…

The only problem with that is Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A is basically Tinkerbell. She’s a petite blonde with big tits and an amazing ass, but if you don’t give her constant attention she’ll die. Or at least that’s what she will tell you.

And while I was studying, I wasn’t giving her attention. She sat on the couch next to me, then plopped her head onto my lap.

I kept my attention on the video.

She … growled?

A light, annoyed growl. I could tell she was leaning forward to let her tits spill out of the top of her black unitard. It was her rope bunny uniform for classes, comfortable and tight, but also offering really nice views of her ass and tits.

I could see that view out of the corner of my eye. I could just take a moment to enjoy it - no. I had about eight more minutes of video to watch. And then we could probably leave early to find the dungeon?

Focusing back on the video, they went over the last few parts of the Swiss Seat - how far down the thigh you wanted it, where you wanted the anchor points for the suspension…

I felt her hands start to slide up my chest.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A said in a voice that clearly meant she was up to something.

Six minutes left on the video. I could probably get away with ignoring her for six minutes.

She tugged open the bottom button of my shirt.

The video was talking about keeping the suspension rope in a circle. Focus.

A second button. Then a third.

“What are you doing?” I asked again.

She opened another button.

“Quickie,” she said in a voice of brat declaration.

I rolled my eyes and went back to the video. There was no such thing as a quickie with us. We’ve tried. And then we get wrapped up into a lust-filled railing of her holes until I fill her with cum. It’s like a black hole distorts time until she’s glowing with a breeding kink joy.

When she got the last buttons open, she started playing with my chest hair. I could already feel my cock getting harder, but there wasn’t time for that. The video was almost done, and we had maybe 12 minutes after that where we’d have to leave.

“Quickie.”

Her hands moved lower, feeling my hard cock through my pants. Two more minutes of video. She probably knew it was almost over. She pulled my zipper down. “Quickie!”

Focusing on the video took even more effort now. I knew this stuff. I felt confident that I could tie her and keep her safe and happy… My cock was in her hands, getting harder and harder.

Her mouth. Fuck, her mouth is so good. This little cocksucking slut. The very first scene I had with her, it was to teach her how to suck cock.

What I found out was that some pathetic loser was trying to keep her self esteem low to that she’d never realize she was a complete smoke show of a woman with a great body, sparkling personality and solid cocksucking skills.

I was throbbing in her mouth.

The video finished.

“Quickie!”

It was a pure demand now. I couldn’t stop her.

She quicked undid the bottom of her unitard, opened up the crotch so she could guide my cock into her pussy.

12 minutes? Could I cum that fast? Maybe?

She started to ride me. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

I love it when she rides me. But for whatever reason, I just don’t cum when I’m on my back. At least not for about 30-45 minutes. That’s why whenever we do threesomes and moresomes and we’re showing off my cock, I let women ride on me for as long as they want.

I needed to get off the couch.

“Bed,” I said. “Now.”

Her face lit up with joy.

“Quickie!”

The brat then grabbed me by the cock and led me to the bedroom.

She had to know that she wasn’t going to get away with it.

Then again, she also had a good guess what my punishment was going to be.

I pushed my pants down to my knees, leaving my shoes on. We had to be fast. I grabbed her by her thighs, pushing her knees to her chest.

“Little brat,” I said. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

I let some faux-anger slip into my voice as I didn’t hold back. I needed to fuck her hard and fast if I was going to cum in time. I pulled her tits out of her top, then put my hand around her neck for a gentle squeeze.

She was my brat.

And no one ever makes me cum as hard as she does.

If she wanted to say quickie again, her ability to speak was lost to my cock filling her tight little cunt. She was hitting that wordless, mindless level of being my fucktoy. I soaked it in, the power I had over her, and pushed harder.

I had no idea how much time was left. I could feel a countdown clock, but then my body started giving me a completely different countdown. It started to build with a warm tingle at the bottom of my spine, shooting up to the base of my neck.

The bliss of dopamine rushed through me as I started to throb inside of her.

Fuck. How does she always make me cum so hard?

I twitched for a moment, and finished my low, gravely moan.

“Fuck,” I said, grabbing a breath.

Fuck.

The time.

I checked my watch (the FitBit stays ON during sex) - we had one minute.

“Honey, we have to go,” I said, moving to pull out.

She locked her legs around my hips.

“Nooooo,” she said.

Fuck.

Sometimes I can fuck the brat out of her. Sometimes her breeding kink makes her an even bigger brat.

“Honey,” I said. “We need to make you FLY.”

I was going for the jugular. We were so excited to learn suspension. It was going to be a really big day for us.

And now she was going to have to spend the class with my cum slowly leaking out of her pussy.

Rope is for nerds who fuck.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Most of the people in my vanilla life have no idea what I do behind closed doors. They see a tall, nerdy, friendly guy, and some have questioned if I’ve ever even had sex in my life.

That’s my business. They don’t need to know who I’m fucking, or how I’m fucking them.

And honestly, if I explained to them that I have a small harem of sluts that like group sex and being tied up… there’s just no way they’d believe me. Fuck, I was there, and I keep taking pictures, and I still don’t believe my life.

Nerds fuck. And with the internet and the rules structure provided by BDSM, we’ve been finding other kinky, hot nerds and doing really hot shit.

And Shibari? That’s some advanced nerd hot shit. So advanced, it has homework.

I was getting ready to take Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A with me to a rope class in 30 minutes. I was thinking about doing a Shinju for Suspension coupled with a Swiss Seat. Nothing super fancy, but with it being our first suspension tie together, I wanted to keep her arms and legs free.

But also, being that it was our first suspension tie together, and I’m a nerd, I was doing that homework. For the fourth time, I was rewatching the videos on how to do the ties. I had notes and screenshots of each step of the way, and I was feeling confident in my abilities to do it safely. But hey, one more round of video lectures can’t hurt…

The only problem with that is Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A is basically Tinkerbell. She’s a petite blonde with big tits and an amazing ass, but if you don’t give her constant attention she’ll die. Or at least that’s what she will tell you.

And while I was studying, I wasn’t giving her attention. She sat on the couch next to me, then plopped her head onto my lap.

I kept my attention on the video.

She … growled?

A light, annoyed growl. I could tell she was leaning forward to let her tits spill out of the top of her black unitard. It was her rope bunny uniform for classes, comfortable and tight, but also offering really nice views of her ass and tits.

I could see that view out of the corner of my eye. I could just take a moment to enjoy it - no. I had about eight more minutes of video to watch. And then we could probably leave early to find the dungeon?

Focusing back on the video, they went over the last few parts of the Swiss Seat - how far down the thigh you wanted it, where you wanted the anchor points for the suspension…

I felt her hands start to slide up my chest.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A said in a voice that clearly meant she was up to something.

Six minutes left on the video. I could probably get away with ignoring her for six minutes.

She tugged open the bottom button of my shirt.

The video was talking about keeping the suspension rope in a circle. Focus.

A second button. Then a third.

“What are you doing?” I asked again.

She opened another button.

“Quickie,” she said in a voice of brat declaration.

I rolled my eyes and went back to the video. There was no such thing as a quickie with us. We’ve tried. And then we get wrapped up into a lust-filled railing of her holes until I fill her with cum. It’s like a black hole distorts time until she’s glowing with a breeding kink joy.

When she got the last buttons open, she started playing with my chest hair. I could already feel my cock getting harder, but there wasn’t time for that. The video was almost done, and we had maybe 12 minutes after that where we’d have to leave.

“Quickie.”

Her hands moved lower, feeling my hard cock through my pants. Two more minutes of video. She probably knew it was almost over. She pulled my zipper down. “Quickie!”

Focusing on the video took even more effort now. I knew this stuff. I felt confident that I could tie her and keep her safe and happy… My cock was in her hands, getting harder and harder.

Her mouth. Fuck, her mouth is so good. This little cocksucking slut. The very first scene I had with her, it was to teach her how to suck cock.

What I found out was that some pathetic loser was trying to keep her self esteem low to that she’d never realize she was a complete smoke show of a woman with a great body, sparkling personality and solid cocksucking skills.

I was throbbing in her mouth.

The video finished.

“Quickie!”

It was a pure demand now. I couldn’t stop her.

She quicked undid the bottom of her unitard, opened up the crotch so she could guide my cock into her pussy.

12 minutes? Could I cum that fast? Maybe?

She started to ride me. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

I love it when she rides me. But for whatever reason, I just don’t cum when I’m on my back. At least not for about 30-45 minutes. That’s why whenever we do threesomes and moresomes and we’re showing off my cock, I let women ride on me for as long as they want.

I needed to get off the couch.

“Bed,” I said. “Now.”

Her face lit up with joy.

“Quickie!”

The brat then grabbed me by the cock and led me to the bedroom.

She had to know that she wasn’t going to get away with it.

Then again, she also had a good guess what my punishment was going to be.

I pushed my pants down to my knees, leaving my shoes on. We had to be fast. I grabbed her by her thighs, pushing her knees to her chest.

“Little brat,” I said. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

I let some faux-anger slip into my voice as I didn’t hold back. I needed to fuck her hard and fast if I was going to cum in time. I pulled her tits out of her top, then put my hand around her neck for a gentle squeeze.

She was my brat.

And no one ever makes me cum as hard as she does.

If she wanted to say quickie again, her ability to speak was lost to my cock filling her tight little cunt. She was hitting that wordless, mindless level of being my fucktoy. I soaked it in, the power I had over her, and pushed harder.

I had no idea how much time was left. I could feel a countdown clock, but then my body started giving me a completely different countdown. It started to build with a warm tingle at the bottom of my spine, shooting up to the base of my neck.

The bliss of dopamine rushed through me as I started to throb inside of her.

Fuck. How does she always make me cum so hard?

I twitched for a moment, and finished my low, gravely moan.

“Fuck,” I said, grabbing a breath.

Fuck.

The time.

I checked my watch (the FitBit stays ON during sex) - we had one minute.

“Honey, we have to go,” I said, moving to pull out.

She locked her legs around my hips.

“Nooooo,” she said.

Fuck.

Sometimes I can fuck the brat out of her. Sometimes her breeding kink makes her an even bigger brat.

“Honey,” I said. “We need to make you FLY.”

I was going for the jugular. We were so excited to learn suspension. It was going to be a really big day for us.

And now she was going to have to spend the class with my cum slowly leaking out of her pussy.

Out of all the crazy scenes I’ve designed, the Hotel Door Game has to be the champion.

I got really into the idea of consensual nonconsent early on in my kink life. The taboo of being rude and violent, overpowering a person and forcing my will on them was intoxicating. And being a naturally competitive person, blending in competition with struggle play was amazing - I could literally WIN and FUCK.

It only took a few partners to realize that there was a flaw in my desire: if my prey was not equally competitive, they’d freeze up like a deer in the headlights. The sex could dangerously become boring (as much as it’s boring to have a gorgeous, helpless woman in torn clothing moaning as you fuck her).

I needed that struggle. Even if it was hopeless.

That’s where the trick of the Hotel Door Game clicked for me: I had to make it SEEM winnable.

The rules are simple: I stand in front of the door of the hotel room, my prey stands on the other side. If they can touch the doorknob before I either stroke my finger inside of them 10 times or cum inside of them, they win.

OK, there’s some other rules. I always warn my prey not to wear anything that they don’t mind getting torn up. And I ask for no eye gouges, and to avoid punches and kicks to the face and groin.

After meeting “Elle,” I might need to add some rules.

Possible New Rule No. 1: Don’t be 5-foot-11 with a background in college athletics.

That one is on me. She told me up front that she was tall. In my head I was still thinking I had three inches of height on her. But ultimately, she was leaner and possibly more competitive. And that competitive desire led to her finding other possible new rule needs.

Possible New Rule No. 2: Don’t encourage my girlfriend to betray me.

This one, though? That’s totally on K. I love her, but she’s a huge brat and saw a hilarious opportunity to beat me. While I’m still not sure Elle needed the edge, having K go over all of my past wins, breaking down my moves and warning her what tricks I liked to use gave Elle a gameplan.

A really, really slippery gameplan.

Possible New Rule No. 3: No lube.

You know what, let me get back to this one.

K and I met Elle at a cute little dinner place, one of those food collectives where effectively five food-truck style places share resources. We tucked away in the corner and had an amazing chat, sharing stories and giggles and food.

It was so obvious to me that K was planning on running interference. The whole dinner, I was plotting out my path in the hotel room. There wasn’t going to be room for error. I needed to tackle Elle fast, get on top of her, then force my hand between her legs before K pried me off of her.

It wasn’t a great plan, but it was a plan.

When everyone was ready, we went back to the room. It was a two-room suite with a bed and bath area on one side, and a kitchen and living room on the other. I hated it. Studio suites where I could drag someone onto the bed were better. Here, I was either going to fuck on the floor or the couch.

The women decided they needed time to get ready, so they locked the bathroom door. I took advantage of my free time, setting snares and preparing restraints. Each pocket had some sort of way to hold my prey’s wrists or ankles together. I double-checked the knots on my snares and made sure they were anchored and hidden.

The giggles behind the door kept getting louder.

When they finally unlocked the door, both Elle and K were wearing skin-tight spandex. And every inch of exposed skin was … shiny.

“Is that… lotion?” I asked.

They both giggled again.

“No,” K said. “It’s something you’re really familiar with.”

I would like to think that disbelief was interfering with my ability to accept what I was seeing. There was no way…

“It’s lube!” Elle said. Her grin was insufferable.

My girlfriend and another woman had spent a good 10 minutes covering themselves in lube in preparation for wrestling me.

This wasn’t going to be pretty.

And the only saving grace was the game was very, very short.

As soon as Elle and I took our places, K put herself in between us. K has had moments where she’s nearly squirmed free (and one moment where she leveraged her entire body to drag my massive body off the bed). But all of her experience was in escaping.

I had just enough experience playing as a defensive lineman on a football team that I easily swum past K and got my arm around Elle. I started to wrap and pull her down. I was pretty sure the doorknob was 4 or 5 feet behind me.

I wanted her deeper into the room, but I worked with what I had. I needed to stay on top of her, expose her crotch and –

“I win!” Elle shouted out.

In picking on someone my own size, I forgot just how massive my reach is. And Elle had those same long arms, just barely touching the doorknob.

For the first time ever, I had lost.

I’d like to say that I was a good sport and took my loss well. Clearly what happened next wasn’t bad sportsmanship, but providing two brats with some physical enrichment.

For the next 30 minutes, we slipped around the room, tackling each other, removing clothes, groping each other. I knew that whenever I got one of my fingers inside of my girlfriend’s pussy, her brain would shut off. So whenever I started to do that, Elle would try to pull me off of K. And when K slipped away, I would focus my attention on the layers and layers and layers of clothes Elle was wearing.

I almost expected to find a chastity belt. Instead, I found a tight singlet from a Division I NCAA school. There is one Olympic sport that’s going to annoy me for the rest of my life now.

At one point, I had an idea. I stood up straight, put on my best Dom Face and made stern eye contact with Elle.

“Hold her,” I commanded, putting all the bass in my voice.

The submissive in her shut off the brat, and Elle grabbed and held K still.

It worked!

“Betrayal!” K shouted as she started to squirm away from Elle.

Elle’s face flashed with embarrassment, and she quickly let go of K.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Elle said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

K then took charge, finding one of the snares I had set and letting a lot of devious brat energy in.

For the sake of my dignity, I’m not going to go into too much detail on how I was on the floor with an ankle trapped in rope that I myself had tied.

After a LOT of struggle, we were all sore with chests heaving for air, and lube rubbed into every inch of our skin like a perverted moisturizer. We caught our breath and got some water.

The struggle was fun, but as I recovered, I wanted to be in charge again.

Going back to my commanding voice, I had Elle stand between me and K. We started to undress her, peeling off a couple more layers, including two pairs of underwear.

Elle was tall with graceful curves, accentuated by gorgeous ink. It was a complete magic trick, peeling away her “defensive” clothes going from zero sexuality to a bombshell.

I put Elle on her back and started sucking on one of her tits, then motioned for K to join me and play with the other tit. I let my hand slowly slide between Elle’s legs, stroking her as she started to softly moan.

My kisses started to move down her body as I repositioned between her legs. K started to alternate between sucking on Elle’s nipples and putting her own massive tits in Elle’s mouth. Elle’s pussy was already dripping wet from the combined attention.

With two of my fingers inside of her and my tongue teased her clit, Elle started to melt into an orgasm-fueled puddle. The cream of her cum started to fill the palm of my hand as she started to quiver uncontrollably.

That sheer feeling of success flooded my body. Knowing that I’m making a woman lose complete control, turning her mind off and making only her base instincts remain? That’s where I’m really, really happy. Any sense of exhaustion was gone, and I could feel my cock throbbing.

I pulled on a condom and pushed inside of her. Easy, long strokes as she recovered from her last orgasm.

“Come here,” I said to K, motioning for her to straddle Elle.

K crawled into position, staying on all fours and positioning her tits right over Elle’s mouth. I then slide a thick finger inside of K, stroking her to roughly the same rhythm as my cock inside of Elle.

I couldn’t be mad about losing the Hotel Door Game. I really wasn’t. I still had so much fun. Even the competitor in me was OK with that loss.

But even if I was a little upset, those thoughts were gone now. I was making Elle and K moan at the same time. I could feel my cock throbbing inside of Elle, and my finger had no problem finding that perfect little g-spot inside of K.

I felt like a sex god.

Coming down from that moment is wild. When I hit that groove and I’m giving two different women a flood of bliss, everyone collapsing into a cuddle pile is the way to go.

We snuggled, we kept casually touching all of our sexy parts, and we knew damn well that we weren’t done yet.

Before long, I had one hand between each of their thighs, stroking their hard clits. K needs to have three fingers on her, two to “frame” her clit, and one to tease it. Elle was more into one or two fingers on her clit

I adjusted the speed and pressure of my fingers off of their moans, conducting them like an orchestra made of lust.

Eventually I had fingers inside of both of them, leading me to realize their g-spots were in nearly identical locations. It was so amusing to me, as K is seven inches shorter than Elle. And sure, g-spots are in the same vague area. But it’s been my experience that every pussy is different, and you need to learn what each pussy needs.

Again, the sense of being a sex god filled me. K noticed with my cock getting harder and harder. Like an eager little slut, she crawled on top of me. I didn’t stop playing with Elle, but I also started rolling my hips to match my thrusts to her bouncing.

Yeah, I know, my life makes no sense. I don’t question it.

K eventually gave Elle a turn riding my cock. K took a moment to admire her pretty new friend gracefully riding her boyfriend’s cock, taking some videos for later. Then she repositioned to sit on my face.

If I do the math, the sheer exertion I was putting my body through should have killed me. And honestly, if I died and I’m a ghost telling you about this amazing night, I have no complaints.

There’s a bit of a blur after that moment, when endorphins and orgasms kind of wiped my memory a bit.

Elle was curious about learning how to eat pussy, so we used K’s pussy for me to teach her. I suspect having near-identical g-spots was a help, as Elle took to my teaching like a pro. We used K until she nearly passed out, then all three of us just rested on the bed for a bit.

Eventually, it was time for Elle to leave. K was fully passed out, and I was wondering if I could walk again.

I let her get up and start gathering her things (including her cursed singlet). I was tired. But then, I wasn’t. Like a man possessed, I was back on my feet and feeling my cock get hard again.

Before Elle started to go from the bedroom to the living room, I casually pushed her body against the wall.

“I’m not done with you yet,” I said.

She smiled as I had one hand around her neck and one hand feeling her still-wet pussy.

I put the condom on and tried to position it so that I could fuck her against the wall. Normally, against-the-wall involves me lifting someone and bouncing them. I couldn’t line it up.

But there was another position I rarely get to do at my height.

I wasn’t gentle as I repositioned her, bending her over the side of the bed. It lined up perfectly, with me only bending my knees a little.

Enjoying the leverage I had, I made every thrust as hard as I could, shaking the bed and forcing loud, whorish moans to sneak out of Elle’s mouth.

K started to wake up. She looked at the edge of the bed, watching her boyfriend ruthlessly rail her friend, then smiled at us.

“Morning cutie,” I said, not breaking my pace. “Want to join us?”

K shook her head no with a grin of a cheshire cat, spreading her legs and rubbing her own clit as she watched. I dug my fingers into Elle’s hips and found a way to push even harder, until I felt that rush of euphoria. One last thrust, and I let my cock throb inside of her for a minute.

Really, who can even remember who won? All that matters is that you had fun playing the game, right?

Out of all the crazy scenes I’ve designed, the Hotel Door Game has to be the champion.

I got really into the idea of consensual nonconsent early on in my kink life. The taboo of being rude and violent, overpowering a person and forcing my will on them was intoxicating. And being a naturally competitive person, blending in competition with struggle play was amazing - I could literally WIN and FUCK.

It only took a few partners to realize that there was a flaw in my desire: if my prey was not equally competitive, they’d freeze up like a deer in the headlights. The sex could dangerously become boring (as much as it’s boring to have a gorgeous, helpless woman in torn clothing moaning as you fuck her).

I needed that struggle. Even if it was hopeless.

That’s where the trick of the Hotel Door Game clicked for me: I had to make it SEEM winnable.

The rules are simple: I stand in front of the door of the hotel room, my prey stands on the other side. If they can touch the doorknob before I either stroke my finger inside of them 10 times or cum inside of them, they win.

OK, there’s some other rules. I always warn my prey not to wear anything that they don’t mind getting torn up. And I ask for no eye gouges, and to avoid punches and kicks to the face and groin.

After meeting “Elle,” I might need to add some rules.

Possible New Rule No. 1: Don’t be 5-foot-11 with a background in college athletics.

That one is on me. She told me up front that she was tall. In my head I was still thinking I had three inches of height on her. But ultimately, she was leaner and possibly more competitive. And that competitive desire led to her finding other possible new rule needs.

Possible New Rule No. 2: Don’t encourage my girlfriend to betray me.

This one, though? That’s totally on K. I love her, but she’s a huge brat and saw a hilarious opportunity to beat me. While I’m still not sure Elle needed the edge, having K go over all of my past wins, breaking down my moves and warning her what tricks I liked to use gave Elle a gameplan.

A really, really slippery gameplan.

Possible New Rule No. 3: No lube.

You know what, let me get back to this one.

K and I met Elle at a cute little dinner place, one of those food collectives where effectively five food-truck style places share resources. We tucked away in the corner and had an amazing chat, sharing stories and giggles and food.

It was so obvious to me that K was planning on running interference. The whole dinner, I was plotting out my path in the hotel room. There wasn’t going to be room for error. I needed to tackle Elle fast, get on top of her, then force my hand between her legs before K pried me off of her.

It wasn’t a great plan, but it was a plan.

When everyone was ready, we went back to the room. It was a two-room suite with a bed and bath area on one side, and a kitchen and living room on the other. I hated it. Studio suites where I could drag someone onto the bed were better. Here, I was either going to fuck on the floor or the couch.

The women decided they needed time to get ready, so they locked the bathroom door. I took advantage of my free time, setting snares and preparing restraints. Each pocket had some sort of way to hold my prey’s wrists or ankles together. I double-checked the knots on my snares and made sure they were anchored and hidden.

The giggles behind the door kept getting louder.

When they finally unlocked the door, both Elle and K were wearing skin-tight spandex. And every inch of exposed skin was … shiny.

“Is that… lotion?” I asked.

They both giggled again.

“No,” K said. “It’s something you’re really familiar with.”

I would like to think that disbelief was interfering with my ability to accept what I was seeing. There was no way…

“It’s lube!” Elle said. Her grin was insufferable.

My girlfriend and another woman had spent a good 10 minutes covering themselves in lube in preparation for wrestling me.

This wasn’t going to be pretty.

And the only saving grace was the game was very, very short.

As soon as Elle and I took our places, K put herself in between us. K has had moments where she’s nearly squirmed free (and one moment where she leveraged her entire body to drag my massive body off the bed). But all of her experience was in escaping.

I had just enough experience playing as a defensive lineman on a football team that I easily swum past K and got my arm around Elle. I started to wrap and pull her down. I was pretty sure the doorknob was 4 or 5 feet behind me.

I wanted her deeper into the room, but I worked with what I had. I needed to stay on top of her, expose her crotch and –

“I win!” Elle shouted out.

In picking on someone my own size, I forgot just how massive my reach is. And Elle had those same long arms, just barely touching the doorknob.

For the first time ever, I had lost.

I’d like to say that I was a good sport and took my loss well. Clearly what happened next wasn’t bad sportsmanship, but providing two brats with some physical enrichment.

For the next 30 minutes, we slipped around the room, tackling each other, removing clothes, groping each other. I knew that whenever I got one of my fingers inside of my girlfriend’s pussy, her brain would shut off. So whenever I started to do that, Elle would try to pull me off of K. And when K slipped away, I would focus my attention on the layers and layers and layers of clothes Elle was wearing.

I almost expected to find a chastity belt. Instead, I found a tight singlet from a Division I NCAA school. There is one Olympic sport that’s going to annoy me for the rest of my life now.

At one point, I had an idea. I stood up straight, put on my best Dom Face and made stern eye contact with Elle.

“Hold her,” I commanded, putting all the bass in my voice.

The submissive in her shut off the brat, and Elle grabbed and held K still.

It worked!

“Betrayal!” K shouted as she started to squirm away from Elle.

Elle’s face flashed with embarrassment, and she quickly let go of K.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Elle said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

K then took charge, finding one of the snares I had set and letting a lot of devious brat energy in.

For the sake of my dignity, I’m not going to go into too much detail on how I was on the floor with an ankle trapped in rope that I myself had tied.

After a LOT of struggle, we were all sore with chests heaving for air, and lube rubbed into every inch of our skin like a perverted moisturizer. We caught our breath and got some water.

The struggle was fun, but as I recovered, I wanted to be in charge again.

Going back to my commanding voice, I had Elle stand between me and K. We started to undress her, peeling off a couple more layers, including two pairs of underwear.

Elle was tall with graceful curves, accentuated by gorgeous ink. It was a complete magic trick, peeling away her “defensive” clothes going from zero sexuality to a bombshell.

I put Elle on her back and started sucking on one of her tits, then motioned for K to join me and play with the other tit. I let my hand slowly slide between Elle’s legs, stroking her as she started to softly moan.

My kisses started to move down her body as I repositioned between her legs. K started to alternate between sucking on Elle’s nipples and putting her own massive tits in Elle’s mouth. Elle’s pussy was already dripping wet from the combined attention.

With two of my fingers inside of her and my tongue teased her clit, Elle started to melt into an orgasm-fueled puddle. The cream of her cum started to fill the palm of my hand as she started to quiver uncontrollably.

That sheer feeling of success flooded my body. Knowing that I’m making a woman lose complete control, turning her mind off and making only her base instincts remain? That’s where I’m really, really happy. Any sense of exhaustion was gone, and I could feel my cock throbbing.

I pulled on a condom and pushed inside of her. Easy, long strokes as she recovered from her last orgasm.

“Come here,” I said to K, motioning for her to straddle Elle.

K crawled into position, staying on all fours and positioning her tits right over Elle’s mouth. I then slide a thick finger inside of K, stroking her to roughly the same rhythm as my cock inside of Elle.

I couldn’t be mad about losing the Hotel Door Game. I really wasn’t. I still had so much fun. Even the competitor in me was OK with that loss.

But even if I was a little upset, those thoughts were gone now. I was making Elle and K moan at the same time. I could feel my cock throbbing inside of Elle, and my finger had no problem finding that perfect little g-spot inside of K.

I felt like a sex god.

Coming down from that moment is wild. When I hit that groove and I’m giving two different women a flood of bliss, everyone collapsing into a cuddle pile is the way to go.

We snuggled, we kept casually touching all of our sexy parts, and we knew damn well that we weren’t done yet.

Before long, I had one hand between each of their thighs, stroking their hard clits. K needs to have three fingers on her, two to “frame” her clit, and one to tease it. Elle was more into one or two fingers on her clit

I adjusted the speed and pressure of my fingers off of their moans, conducting them like an orchestra made of lust.

Eventually I had fingers inside of both of them, leading me to realize their g-spots were in nearly identical locations. It was so amusing to me, as K is seven inches shorter than Elle. And sure, g-spots are in the same vague area. But it’s been my experience that every pussy is different, and you need to learn what each pussy needs.

Again, the sense of being a sex god filled me. K noticed with my cock getting harder and harder. Like an eager little slut, she crawled on top of me. I didn’t stop playing with Elle, but I also started rolling my hips to match my thrusts to her bouncing.

Yeah, I know, my life makes no sense. I don’t question it.

K eventually gave Elle a turn riding my cock. K took a moment to admire her pretty new friend gracefully riding her boyfriend’s cock, taking some videos for later. Then she repositioned to sit on my face.

If I do the math, the sheer exertion I was putting my body through should have killed me. And honestly, if I died and I’m a ghost telling you about this amazing night, I have no complaints.

There’s a bit of a blur after that moment, when endorphins and orgasms kind of wiped my memory a bit.

Elle was curious about learning how to eat pussy, so we used K’s pussy for me to teach her. I suspect having near-identical g-spots was a help, as Elle took to my teaching like a pro. We used K until she nearly passed out, then all three of us just rested on the bed for a bit.

Eventually, it was time for Elle to leave. K was fully passed out, and I was wondering if I could walk again.

I let her get up and start gathering her things (including her cursed singlet). I was tired. But then, I wasn’t. Like a man possessed, I was back on my feet and feeling my cock get hard again.

Before Elle started to go from the bedroom to the living room, I casually pushed her body against the wall.

“I’m not done with you yet,” I said.

She smiled as I had one hand around her neck and one hand feeling her still-wet pussy.

I put the condom on and tried to position it so that I could fuck her against the wall. Normally, against-the-wall involves me lifting someone and bouncing them. I couldn’t line it up.

But there was another position I rarely get to do at my height.

I wasn’t gentle as I repositioned her, bending her over the side of the bed. It lined up perfectly, with me only bending my knees a little.

Enjoying the leverage I had, I made every thrust as hard as I could, shaking the bed and forcing loud, whorish moans to sneak out of Elle’s mouth.

K started to wake up. She looked at the edge of the bed, watching her boyfriend ruthlessly rail her friend, then smiled at us.

“Morning cutie,” I said, not breaking my pace. “Want to join us?”

K shook her head no with a grin of a cheshire cat, spreading her legs and rubbing her own clit as she watched. I dug my fingers into Elle’s hips and found a way to push even harder, until I felt that rush of euphoria. One last thrust, and I let my cock throb inside of her for a minute.

Really, who can even remember who won? All that matters is that you had fun playing the game, right?

The TL;DR version: I have a group of play partners. Some of them I fuck multiple times a month. Some once a year, and some whenever I happen to be nearby. One of them is my girlfriend. All of them get called Slut, get tied up, get written on and are given degrading "Slut Identification Numbers."

The Sluts have a group chat where they swap stories and cat pics. We occassionally have a "Gathering of the Sluts" for an annual orgy, and there's been a bunch of threesomes.

We're looking to add a slut this fall.

The longer version:

I'm Mr. Casey (not my real name, but it's fine to call me that. It's also the only thing I lie about). I'm 47, 6'2 and 245 pounds. I'm just about bald now, with a beard and glasses. I have a LOT of skill in things like CNC, brat taming and restraints. I've been developing my rope skills a LOT, and really honing my erotic photography.

I, um, have fans. Some are here for my voice, some for my writing. Some for the really hot pictures and videos of the really hot sluts I play with.

And one of the questions I ALWAYS get - How many sluts do I have?

Right now, 10 amazing people are tagged as "Active" sluts. But of those 10, only six have played with me in the past 12 months, and only three of them have had two or more scenes this year (not counting multiday scenes that last a whole weekend). We always follow safe sex protocols.

The sluts range in age from 20 to 40, and are from 4'11 to 5'9. There's one woman with DDD cups, but most of the sluts are in the range of A-C cups. They're a very diverse group of sexy people.

What they do have in common is they're all sweet, kind people when they're not being a complete brat. All of us would describe ourselves as feminists (myself included). We share book recommendations, pictures of pets and videos of me using each of them as fucktoys.

I should note they're all bisexual, pansexual or queer. It's not 100% a requirement that you be, too, but it's maybe 97% of a requirement. Ideally, you're a pervert that likes to play with women, and occassionally likes to play with men.

I'm really going to be picky with who we add to this group. Personality and honesty are just as important to me as kinks and looks.

I love a good conversation. So you can open with a hello, but please ask me any questions you have, or give me a good book reccomendation.

The goal is to chat and get to know you, then meet up in Memphis in October. Why Memphis in October? I have a trip scheduled there, and currently none of the sluts are able to make it there. So your audition would be a rare one-on-one scene with me (usually my girlfriend calls dibs on those).

“Look at this slut I found at the airport.”

It was almost an innocent photo.

Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A, also known as “K,” had a habit of looking hot no matter what she wore. Today, it was a pretty floral dress and no bra (and I had to assume no panties). But with the size of her tits, the dress was losing the battle against innocence.

Then again, her wearing fishnets also made her less sugar and much more spice.

I wrapped my arm around her neck into a casual headlock - she’s only 5’4, and I’m a full 10 inches taller than her. I snapped a selfie and sent it out to our secret group chat. Immediately, the reactions started buzzing in.

I really did love showing her off. And this weekend, our perverted chat group of voyeurs had no idea what they were in for.

On the ride from the airport to the hotel, I couldn’t remember a thing that we talked about. I know it was mundane, casual topics. The weather? How were our flights? Where were we going to get dinner? It was complete verbal autopilot.

K was sitting right behind the driver, and I was right next to her. The driver didn’t notice that K was sitting on my left hand, my fingers slowly tugging up the fabric.

She was wet with excitement. She was wearing panties, but they were easy to push to the side.

The drive took a good 30 minutes, more than enough time to tease her. She did her best to behave, only letting out a couple whimpers hidden by me info-dumping about the places I’d been to before. I did my best to not push her too far, as I didn’t want to make a mess on our driver’s backseat.

It had been months since I had a chance to play with Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A. The last time, we spent four nights straight fucking until we passed out, then eventually auditioning Slut 01-60-42-1-2-A. This time, we only had three nights together, but a very packed itinerary.

Plus, it was my birthday weekend.

For my first gift of the weekend, K dug through her bag and pulled out a gorgeous rosewood paddle. On the smooth side, it had “PROPERTY OF CASEY” etched into the grain. On the other side of the paddle, it had a mirror image of “PROPERTY OF CASEY” made with raised letters.

And K had been a naughty little slut in the months between her last, “brat pruning.”

Every time she was a good girl, I tracked the reason on a spreadsheet promising gold stars. And every time she was a brat, I noted the reason and set an arbitrary punishment.

“I don't know if you have it in you to be that mean to me,” she said a full two months before our meet-up. That got her a promised face-fucking.

Calling me bossy got her 10 spanks. Doing it again a week later got her 33 more. And her silliest decision came with four weeks to go. The little nymphomaniac cummed 33 times on one day (gold star), and thought she could go three weeks without cumming, until she was prey to my fingers again.

She lasted nine days. When she broke her celibacy, I tagged her up for 60 spanks on the spreadsheet. I was betting that she’d only cum two or three more times, just enough to tide herself over until she was my fucktoy again.

She came eight more times.

The butcher’s bill of punishment owed was over 1,000 spanks, a hard face-fucking, and a punishment I listed only as, “BITCH,” highlighted in red.

And now I had a glorious new paddle in my hands.

I wasn’t admitting it to myself at the time, but I really love this woman.

First, I had her take her underwear off. I then put her on the bed on her knees and elbows. The sundress spilled away from her perfect ass, her thighs wrapped in fishnets. How I wasn’t pulling my cock out and fucking her then and there…

There was work to do.

I focused, and started rubbing the hard wood against her cheek.

There are pure sounds of impact. The crack of a baseball bat for a home run. The hammer crashing down on red-hot iron. The swoosh and thwack of a driver perfectly squaring off a golf ball down the fairway. 

They all pale in comparison to the thud of hard wood against soft flesh.

She let out a tiny yelp with the first impact.

“You like that?” I asked. I didn’t even try to hide the glee in my voice. “That have a nice feel?”

We took 20 off of her chart of punishments, then two really hard ones with the letters “down.”

The effect was almost immediate, with blood vessels popping in tiny patterns wherever a sharp edge smashed into her skin. I could see my name on her perfect body. She was mine.

Between the car ride and the spanking, K had me rock hard. She dropped to her knees to give me my second surprise - a bucket list item.

Way before my dick had been inside of anyone’s mouth, I would fantasize about getting a blowjob from a woman with a pierced tongue. It was just one of those things that had to be super-kinky to my young mind. Tongue piercings, threesomes, fucking in front of someone else - all such BOLD and WILD ideas.

Since making that first bucket list, things got a bit wilder for my life. A bit.

And technically, I did actually get a blowjob from a woman with a piercing tongue, a few years ago. I was on a road trip, and decided to post a random act of muff dive ad. I happen to be very skilled with my mouth and my fingers, and I enjoyed the idea of meeting up with someone, going down on them, making them cum and expecting nothing in return.

I met up with this incredible woman with an amazing collection of tattoos and piercings. She warned me before we started going at it that she sometimes has mini-seizures, but only if she cums really hard. Nothing to worry about, just that the right side of her face goes numb for an hour or two. But only if she cums really, really hard.

With my fingers inside her, she started cumming in under 10 minutes. Within an hour, the right side of her face was out of commission.

We chatted for a bit, and I mentioned the pierced tongue item on my bucket list. I made it clear that it would be fine if she didn’t want to, but if she didn’t mind, I was really curious. I was a man in my 40s that had on multiple occasions fucked women in front of audiences, and I had no idea what a tongue piercing felt like.

She … well she tried for about three minutes, giving me what was technically the worst blowjob of my life. I really hesitate to call it a blowjob, because with half the muscles in her face just saying, “Fuck no, Sir,” she had no control and no suction. And her tongue was half-numb, too.

We had a good laugh, she thanked me for her orgasms and we shook hands. Just another day.

I later adjusted the bucket list item to, “A Good Blowjob from a Woman with a Pierced Tongue.”

And K wanted that Bucket List item.

K immediately started teasing the tip of my cock, then running the stud up and down the shaft. The suction, the stroking, the moaning - without the piercing, K was a fantastic cocksucker. And with it, it was like a whole new flavor of blowjob.

We had a guest… on her way. A special guest.

I couldn’t put any thoughts together. Any semblance of civility was artfully licked away from me. I could feel the tightness in my loins. How long had it been since I’ve cummed? One day, no - two days. And this good little slut had been turning me on and edging me since the airport.

Finding her panties on the edge of the bed, I balled them up and stuffed them into her mouth. Then I pushed my spit-covered cock inside of her tight, wet pussy.

She feels so good. Every fucking time. There was no way that I was pulling out. I fucked her hard and pushed deep one more time, letting my cock throb inside of her.

Then I grabbed my phone’s camera.

Still trying to catch my breath, still thinking about our en route guest, I cupped my hand under her pussy. With my other hand, I hit record.

“Push it out,” I said.

She squeezed with her pussy, letting a waterfall of jizz spill into my hand.

“There,” I said, then moved my fingers to her mouth. “Now lick it off.”

Somehow, she did as she was told. K was an extreme brat, but feeling me cum inside her tamped down her more impish behaviors.

I sent the video out to the “group chat” as we frantically started to clean things up.

Our guest had arrived.

“Look at this slut I found at the airport.”

It was almost an innocent photo.

Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A, also known as “K,” had a habit of looking hot no matter what she wore. Today, it was a pretty floral dress and no bra (and I had to assume no panties). But with the size of her tits, the dress was losing the battle against innocence.

Then again, her wearing fishnets also made her less sugar and much more spice.

I wrapped my arm around her neck into a casual headlock - she’s only 5’4, and I’m a full 10 inches taller than her. I snapped a selfie and sent it out to our secret group chat. Immediately, the reactions started buzzing in.

I really did love showing her off. And this weekend, our perverted chat group of voyeurs had no idea what they were in for.

On the ride from the airport to the hotel, I couldn’t remember a thing that we talked about. I know it was mundane, casual topics. The weather? How were our flights? Where were we going to get dinner? It was complete verbal autopilot.

K was sitting right behind the driver, and I was right next to her. The driver didn’t notice that K was sitting on my left hand, my fingers slowly tugging up the fabric.

She was wet with excitement. She was wearing panties, but they were easy to push to the side.

The drive took a good 30 minutes, more than enough time to tease her. She did her best to behave, only letting out a couple whimpers hidden by me info-dumping about the places I’d been to before. I did my best to not push her too far, as I didn’t want to make a mess on our driver’s backseat.

It had been months since I had a chance to play with Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A. The last time, we spent four nights straight fucking until we passed out, then eventually auditioning Slut 01-60-42-1-2-A. This time, we only had three nights together, but a very packed itinerary.

Plus, it was my birthday weekend.

For my first gift of the weekend, K dug through her bag and pulled out a gorgeous rosewood paddle. On the smooth side, it had “PROPERTY OF CASEY” etched into the grain. On the other side of the paddle, it had a mirror image of “PROPERTY OF CASEY” made with raised letters.

And K had been a naughty little slut in the months between her last, “brat pruning.”

Every time she was a good girl, I tracked the reason on a spreadsheet promising gold stars. And every time she was a brat, I noted the reason and set an arbitrary punishment.

“I don't know if you have it in you to be that mean to me,” she said a full two months before our meet-up. That got her a promised face-fucking.

Calling me bossy got her 10 spanks. Doing it again a week later got her 33 more. And her silliest decision came with four weeks to go. The little nymphomaniac cummed 33 times on one day (gold star), and thought she could go three weeks without cumming, until she was prey to my fingers again.

She lasted nine days. When she broke her celibacy, I tagged her up for 60 spanks on the spreadsheet. I was betting that she’d only cum two or three more times, just enough to tide herself over until she was my fucktoy again.

She came eight more times.

The butcher’s bill of punishment owed was over 1,000 spanks, a hard face-fucking, and a punishment I listed only as, “BITCH,” highlighted in red.

And now I had a glorious new paddle in my hands.

I wasn’t admitting it to myself at the time, but I really love this woman.

First, I had her take her underwear off. I then put her on the bed on her knees and elbows. The sundress spilled away from her perfect ass, her thighs wrapped in fishnets. How I wasn’t pulling my cock out and fucking her then and there…

There was work to do.

I focused, and started rubbing the hard wood against her cheek.

There are pure sounds of impact. The crack of a baseball bat for a home run. The hammer crashing down on red-hot iron. The swoosh and thwack of a driver perfectly squaring off a golf ball down the fairway. 

They all pale in comparison to the thud of hard wood against soft flesh.

She let out a tiny yelp with the first impact.

“You like that?” I asked. I didn’t even try to hide the glee in my voice. “That have a nice feel?”

We took 20 off of her chart of punishments, then two really hard ones with the letters “down.”

The effect was almost immediate, with blood vessels popping in tiny patterns wherever a sharp edge smashed into her skin. I could see my name on her perfect body. She was mine.

Between the car ride and the spanking, K had me rock hard. She dropped to her knees to give me my second surprise - a bucket list item.

Way before my dick had been inside of anyone’s mouth, I would fantasize about getting a blowjob from a woman with a pierced tongue. It was just one of those things that had to be super-kinky to my young mind. Tongue piercings, threesomes, fucking in front of someone else - all such BOLD and WILD ideas.

Since making that first bucket list, things got a bit wilder for my life. A bit.

And technically, I did actually get a blowjob from a woman with a piercing tongue, a few years ago. I was on a road trip, and decided to post a random act of muff dive ad. I happen to be very skilled with my mouth and my fingers, and I enjoyed the idea of meeting up with someone, going down on them, making them cum and expecting nothing in return.

I met up with this incredible woman with an amazing collection of tattoos and piercings. She warned me before we started going at it that she sometimes has mini-seizures, but only if she cums really hard. Nothing to worry about, just that the right side of her face goes numb for an hour or two. But only if she cums really, really hard.

With my fingers inside her, she started cumming in under 10 minutes. Within an hour, the right side of her face was out of commission.

We chatted for a bit, and I mentioned the pierced tongue item on my bucket list. I made it clear that it would be fine if she didn’t want to, but if she didn’t mind, I was really curious. I was a man in my 40s that had on multiple occasions fucked women in front of audiences, and I had no idea what a tongue piercing felt like.

She … well she tried for about three minutes, giving me what was technically the worst blowjob of my life. I really hesitate to call it a blowjob, because with half the muscles in her face just saying, “Fuck no, Sir,” she had no control and no suction. And her tongue was half-numb, too.

We had a good laugh, she thanked me for her orgasms and we shook hands. Just another day.

I later adjusted the bucket list item to, “A Good Blowjob from a Woman with a Pierced Tongue.”

And K wanted that Bucket List item.

K immediately started teasing the tip of my cock, then running the stud up and down the shaft. The suction, the stroking, the moaning - without the piercing, K was a fantastic cocksucker. And with it, it was like a whole new flavor of blowjob.

We had a guest… on her way. A special guest.

I couldn’t put any thoughts together. Any semblance of civility was artfully licked away from me. I could feel the tightness in my loins. How long had it been since I’ve cummed? One day, no - two days. And this good little slut had been turning me on and edging me since the airport.

Finding her panties on the edge of the bed, I balled them up and stuffed them into her mouth. Then I pushed my spit-covered cock inside of her tight, wet pussy.

She feels so good. Every fucking time. There was no way that I was pulling out. I fucked her hard and pushed deep one more time, letting my cock throb inside of her.

Then I grabbed my phone’s camera.

Still trying to catch my breath, still thinking about our en route guest, I cupped my hand under her pussy. With my other hand, I hit record.

“Push it out,” I said.

She squeezed with her pussy, letting a waterfall of jizz spill into my hand.

“There,” I said, then moved my fingers to her mouth. “Now lick it off.”

Somehow, she did as she was told. K was an extreme brat, but feeling me cum inside her tamped down her more impish behaviors.

I sent the video out to the “group chat” as we frantically started to clean things up.

Our guest had arrived.

The rules of the hotel door game are simple:

I start in front of the door to my hotel room. You start on the other side of the room.

All you have to do to win is touch the doorknob.

But you lose if I put either my cock or my fingers inside of you 10 times.

Don't wear any clothes you want to keep in one piece. No eye-gouging, no biting and no punches, knees or kicks to the face or groin.

We'll decide what your prize is before we play. Something to keep you motivated and struggling. You won't win, but I like you feisty. And my prize will be tying you up and using you as a fucktoy for the rest of the night.

Why won't you win? Well, first, because I don't play fair. And I'm 6'2 and 245 pounds, with an almost-creepy amount of experience doing this (not really something you put on a resume).

This particular round of the Hotel Door Game will have an interesting caveat: my girlfriend will be watching us. She's Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A. It'll be your choice if she only watches, or if she joins in with the use of your helpless body after I win. She's promised to not help me win, though.

This is for next weekend in Nashville.

The rules of the hotel door game are simple:

I start in front of the door to my hotel room. You start on the other side of the room.

All you have to do to win is touch the doorknob.

But you lose if I put either my cock or my fingers inside of you 10 times.

Don't wear any clothes you want to keep in one piece. No eye-gouging, no biting and no punches, knees or kicks to the face or groin.

We'll decide what your prize is before we play. Something to keep you motivated and struggling. You won't win, but I like you feisty. And my prize will be tying you up and using you as a fucktoy for the rest of the night.

Why won't you win? Well, first, because I don't play fair. And I'm 6'2 and 245 pounds, with an almost-creepy amount of experience doing this (not really something you put on a resume).

This particular round of the Hotel Door Game will have an interesting caveat: my girlfriend will be watching us. She's Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A. It'll be your choice if she only watches, or if she joins in with the use of your helpless body after I win. She's promised to not help me win, though.

This is for next weekend in Nashville.

We're building a roleplay-based predicament bondage scenario for bisexual women that would like to live out some Teacher-Student roleplay.

I'm Mr. Casey, the headmaster. I'm 47 years old, 6'2 and 245 pounds. I have a lot of experience in making wild, intense kink scenes become a reality.

The women currently enrolled include some of my current play partners, as well as some newly auditioning sluts. They're all really fucking hot people.

The 24-year-old slut is flying in from NY, and has a fantastic ass and eager attitude.

The 23-year-old slut is local and way more into women then men, but is a big fan of my work.

The 20-year-old slut is probably the teacher's pet, as she's my girlfriend and you can see a bunch of videos of us already.

We are only taking women who are interested in MOSTLY playing with other women and don't mind a LITTLE bit of man-on-woman play. You can be a switch or a sub, but you do have to submit to me.

And while we're looking for pretty people, personality is HUGE here. I know we call them sluts and there's the Slut Identification Numbers, but each one of these women is going to be super nervous at first, then really sweet, silly and cuddly as clothing is ripped off of them. I have that affect on women (and I really enjoy that).

We're opening enrollment for the 2026 year of Mr. Casey's School for Sluts. Classes will be held at 9 p.m. on Friday, May 15 in Nashville. (Yes it used to be Saturday, but we have a dungeon event to do Saturday).

Sluts must arrive to the hotel ready to "learn" at our hotel near the airport. Details will be sent privately.

Dress Code Violations
Inside the room, each slut will be allowed to dress as provocatively as they would like to. As principal, it will be my responsibility to remove any clothing deemed not appropriate for a learning environment. Such inappropriate clothing will be cut up and destroyed, even if you're still wearing it. Schoolgirl outfits will be strongly encouraged.

Spelling
Spelling Bee - Each slut will be tied up with their legs spread open, with a vibrator on their clit. They will be given words to spell. Spelling a word correctly will increase the speed of vibrator. Spelling it incorrectly will result in the vibrator being turned off, or increased pain on the clit.

Biology
Sluts will be inspected to determine how much of a slut they are based on how wet their pussies are. Each slut will be taught how to inspect other sluts, as well as the essential poses they must master.

PE
Anal Bead Race - Sluts will start ass-to-ass with anal beads connected to each other. They will then crawl away from each other. The loser will be the first student to lose a grip on all of her beads. Best two out of three. The winner will be allowed to determine the punishment of the loser. Sluts must hit the showers after PE.

Student-Teacher Conferences
Each slut will be evaluated on how good of a slut she is. Gold stars will be awarded.

Woodworking
Sluts will cooperate on a group project of cock-sucking.

Lunch break
Sluts will be tied up into a forced 69 position until one of them taps out. Meals may be substituted for a Teacher's pet that would prefer cock over pussy.

Public Speaking
Sluts will be asked to read a prepared speech while enduring spanking, vibrators, dildos, fingers, mouths and a cock.

Posture Improvements
Sluts will take on hands-on training to understand how to properly crawl while leashed, and how to walk with fingers inside of them. They will learn how to sit up straight with a cock filling their pussy.

Detention
If at any point a slut misbehaves, all sluts will have their nipples chained and clamped, with the chains connected to other sluts. They will stand far enough apart that there will be tension in the chain. The offending student will then be spanked. Note: flinching by any student during detention is grounds for that student to also be spanked.

Pre-Class "Tutoring"
We know, it's a LOT. The reason we're looking for students now is so we can get to know each other and develop a connection. We also can be available to meet the Friday before the School lessons, just to make sure everyone is comfortable and ready to do their part as a student. I'll be happy to put you in contact with other play partners of mine, too.

(and sorry for the repost, we have a dungeon event on Saturday that conflicts with the School, so we're moving the School to Friday).

(I'm concurrently writing stories about Slut 92-67-18-4-2-A, Slut 97-63-35-3-3-A and Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A. You've seen the pictures. While I'll have the full version of of Slut 92-67-18-4-2-A and Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A SOON, I wanted to share an except from the first meeting of Slut 97-63-35-3-3-A and Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A).

It's strange to me that I can tell people exactly what I like, over and over again, and people will still make assumptions about what I like.

The Slut Identification Numbers, for example, confuse people the most. They assume that there's only one type of woman that I like, that they HAVE to want a SIN, they HAVE to be a certain age, a certain height and a certain personality.

Slut 97-63-35-3-3-A and Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A really proved how wrong that could be.

With their clothes on, they did have very, very similar personalities. Some key differences, though: Slut 05-64-19-0-4-A, also known as K, is my girlfriend. I've been mapping out K's weaknesses.

Slut 97-63-35-3-3-A, also known as B, is a friend that I hooked up with eight years ago. She had a boyfriend that let her play, and had been following my adventures over the years, waiting for a chance to be my fucktoy again.

K is a delightful little brat. Every time we play, I've had to chase her and put her in her place. "Brat pruning," as we call it.

B is a free use submissive that loves to do as she's told.

I knew that both sluts were going to be VERY nervous, meeting someone new. The only comfort they both had is that they knew that they really liked being fucked by me. Both were fine meeting in the suite, which had a massive living room area.

B texted me right before she knocked on the door.

“That’s her,” I said to K.

I got up, opened the door and dragged her into the room. I let my hands trace along familiar curves, groping her ass and tits and she came in.

As B introduced herself to K and told us about the cookies she’d brought as a gift, I didn’t sense any tension in her body. It was like she was the exact same slut I had tied up and spanked eight years ago.

I subtly checked in on K, and she was thrumming with excited nerves. Guiding the two of them together into a hug, I started to pull down B’s dress.

“Wait, what am I doing?” I asked the two of them.

Then I looked at B.

“Take her dress off,” I said with a stern order.

B, ever the obedient slut, started to undress K. K, ever the brat, was slightly off-guard. Pretty women had that effect on her. Technically, she wasn’t doing what I told her to do. She was just letting another woman undress her. Another woman who was under my control, but she allowed it. For now.

“Now you take her dress off,” I said to K.

She scrunched up her nose.

“Make me,” K said.

I cracked my knuckles and started to roll my shoulders. I wasn’t expecting to get violent this quickly.

“Please,” B said. B had such a sweet, pathetic tone to her begging.

And that melted K.

“Humpf,” K said. “Because a pretty girl asked me, I will.”

We were at a satisfied stand-off. My sluts were doing what I wanted them to do. B was being told what to do. K was digging up loopholes that let her pretend that she wasn’t doing as she was told.

Oh, and I was now in a room with two gorgeous, naked women.

I had them sit on the couch while I sat in the chair opposite of them. I was in the middle of prepping some rope when B showed up, and I needed to finish that now. They started to fondle each other as I counted out the yards of each rope length. I lost count a couple times.

Then I pictured it - me finishing up my rope, K sucking my cock and B watching from the couch. That would be fun.

“K, crawl to me,” I said.

“Fuck you,” K said.

Brat.

I smiled.

“I’m going to make you crawl to me,” I said.

“I’d like to see you try,” she snapped back.

I turned my gaze over to B. 

“Crawl to me.”

B didn’t hesitate. She melted off the couch, then crawled on all fours until she was at my feet.

I looked directly at K as my hands started to stroke B’s hair.

“See, that’s a good girl,” I said. “That’s a very good girl. Did you enjoy crawling over to me?”

B nodded and whispered a yes to me. I rewarded her by slowly running my fingers around the edges of her pussy.

“Good girls get rewards,” I said. “You’re a very good slut, doing as you’re told and behaving.”

K was biting her lip and glaring at me.

“B, do you think K would enjoy crawling over here?”

I don’t play fair.

“Oh yes,” B said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “You should come over here.”

K’s mouth opened to protest as her eyes narrowed. She was desperately looking at a loophole.

“Fine,” K said. “Only because B asked.”

K dropped to her hands and knees, and started to crawl.

“See,” I said. “I told you I’d make you crawl.”

K froze in her tracks.

I let my fingers slide around the more vulgar, wet areas of B’s pussy.

“You wouldn’t want to disappoint B, would you?” I asked.

From the day we met, I’ve beaten K in a variety of fun, sadistic ways. I don’t know if I ever saw her in more pain than when she had to accept an early defeat without any physical coercion, and right in front of her new friend B.

“See, that’s a good girl,” I said.