The Smotherbox

The heavy wooden lid of the Smotherbox clicks shut over your head, locking your neck in place so your nose and mouth are pressed flush against the contoured leather opening at the top. Outside the box, the leather cuffs cinch tight around your wrists, and ankle straps hold your legs spread wide on the velvet floor, leaving your naked torso and already-hardening cock completely exposed to the room.

Because of the tight black blindfold, your world is reduced entirely to sound, heat, and smell.

All around you, the manor ballroom swells with the roar of over two hundred women—clinking champagne flutes, throaty laughter, the click of stilettos, and a chorus of voices gathering right around your exposed lower body.

"Look at him twitching already," a woman's voice laughs near your knees, and a pair of warm, manicured hands suddenly wraps around your bare shaft, giving it a slow, firm stroke that makes you gasp into the dark. "Who's breaking him in first?"

"Me," a deeper, sultry voice purrs directly above your head. The wooden box creaks as a heavy, bare-thighed woman steps over your shoulders. Instantly, the fresh air vanishes—replaced by the intoxicating, humid heat of bare skin, expensive vanilla perfume, and the thick, tangy musk of a soaking-wet cunt descending an inch above your lips.

"Welcome to the party, toy," she whispers down through the cutout, reaching back with both hands to spread her plush ass cheeks wide before dropping her full, crushing weight directly onto your face. "Get that tongue out and work your way from my clit to my asshole. Let's see how long you can hold your breath."

The party around the Smotherbox is in full swing—music pulsing, heels clicking, and a line of twenty women chatting and sipping drinks while they wait their turn on your face. Your face is already slick with the sweat and arousal of the first three riders, and your exposed cock is aching, slick with pre-cum from strangers' hands.

Then the box creaks under a sudden, commanding weight, and the women nearest you go quiet with excited whispers.

"Move aside, girls. I've been holding my bowels since lunch specifically for this box, and I'm not waiting another minute."

The voice is low, arrogant, and unmistakably dominant. Heavy, muscular thighs straddle your head, and as she drops her bare ass down over the leather cutout, the air inside the box turns stiflingly hot and thick with an earthy, pungent musk.

"Listen up, toilet," she purrs, reaching back with leather-gloved hands to spread her cheeks wide until her tight, flexing ring seals directly over your open mouth, while a woman in the crowd grabs your throbbing shaft and begins stroking it in slow, rhythmic pulls. "You're going to eat every single ounce I push out of this ass without choking, and you're going to lick me cleaner than toilet paper while my friends watch. Stick your tongue inside me right now and feel what's crowning."

A chorus of drunken giggles erupts right above your blindfolded head as two sets of footsteps approach the box at the same time.

"Come on, Chloe, just sit on it! He volunteered for it, remember? Look how hard his dick is!"

"Okay, okay, shut up—I've just never pissed in a guy's mouth before!" a sweet, flustered voice laughs nervously. A moment later, soft, warm thighs straddle the box, and a petite, smooth vulva settles hesitantly over your nose and lips—smelling of sweet peach body mist, white wine, and damp heat.

Meanwhile, her bolder friend kneels right between your spread legs outside the box, wrapping her warm lips around the head of your exposed cock before pulling off with a wet pop. "If he spills a single drop of your pee, Chloe, I'm going to edge him until he cries. Go on—let it go!"

Above your mouth, you feel Chloe take a shaky breath, her hips grinding down harder to seal her swollen lips over your mouth as her bladder muscles suddenly relax and the first hot, scalding spurt of urine hisses straight onto your tongue.

"Let's see how well this toy handles two of us at once," a raspy, amused voice announces to the cheering circle of women surrounding the box.

Before you can brace yourself, two women mount you simultaneously. Above your head, a remarkably heavy, wide-hipped woman drops her bare, sweaty ass straight down onto the cutout—completely burying your nose and mouth in the deep, musky valley between her plush cheeks, cutting off every trace of fresh air.

At the exact same moment, a second woman straddles your exposed hips outside the box, gripping your rock-hard, leaking cock and sinking her soaking-wet cunt all the way down to the root with a loud, filthy moan.

"Breathe her ass while you fuck my pussy, slave!" the woman riding your cock gasps, bouncing hard on your pelvis—each upward thrust driving your face even deeper into the heavy, smothering ass of the woman sitting on the box above you.

"Mmm, his nose is buried so deep in my crack," the woman on your face laughs darkly, shifting her weight and letting a hot, wet puff of gas roll straight across your tongue. "Keep licking my hole, toy—if you make me cum before she does, I'll leave you a real present to chew on."

The ballroom lights must have dimmed for the midnight hour, because the ambient chatter has dropped into a heavy, sensual hum of moans and wet skin slapping against skin all around the room.

For the last ten minutes, a cruel-voiced woman in squeaking latex has had you locked beneath her ass—not even letting you lick her yet, just using her heavy cheeks to ration your oxygen while she sips her drink and chats with the party guests.

"He's still hard as steel," she remarks casually to the women gathered around your waist, grinding her ass down over your nose for ten suffocating seconds before lifting just a fraction of an inch so you can gasp in a lungful of her thick, sweaty musk. "I think he's earned the midnight special."

She sets her glass down, spreads her latex-framed cheeks wide with both hands, and aligns her warm, puckered asshole directly with your parted lips. Below her belly, you can actually hear a deep, heavy gurgle churning inches from your ears.

"Someone hold his balls and stroke him slow," she commands the crowd, her voice dropping an octave as her ring begins to stretch and bloom open against your tongue. "Nobody let him cum until he swallows the whole load and shows you all an empty mouth."