Ginger Fox Part 2

"I've lost count of how many glasses of drink I've had. I just laugh at Baby's jokes. When a guy approaches, I raise my wrist, showing him the bracelet. Some don’t even come close, as just Baby’s look makes them back off. We're walking through a dark corridor, red lights flashing. When I stretch out my hand, I feel something sticky and thick.
"OH MY GOD!" I shout, laughing and looking at her. "I touched something."
"You touched a cock!" She grabs my hand, pulling it back to where I had pulled it from, making me hold the member between my fingers.
I look down at where my hand is, and when the light flashes again, I see that it's not a fake cock but a real one, exposed through a hole. I lift my eyes to the dark corridor and when the light turns on, I can clearly see the cocks lining up outside, exposed in the wall through holes. They’re all there, like in a supermarket aisle, but instead of canned condiments, there are cocks of all sizes and widths. For someone who had only seen Tom's cock, I’m getting a full display just for me.
"Attention, customers: straight cocks are on the right, and crooked ones are on the left. Please try not to break them; they are fragile objects," I say, laughing to Baby, like the announcements in supermarket loudspeakers.
"Vaginas and asses are in the orange section," she replies, laughing, walking among them, letting her hands brush over each one.
I laugh even more, spreading my arms as she does, touching the large and thick heads with my fingertips. When we leave the aisle of cocks, after watching Baby play with some of them, she takes me to a metal door. Stopping in front of it, her mouth is already on mine, her hand spreading over my breasts, caressing them over the tight fabric of the dress, her fingertips making a torturous circle. I feel my body ignite with the way she kisses me, sliding her tongue through my mouth.
"I want to taste you, Gim." One of her hands goes between my legs, spreading them. Baby’s mouth slides down my neck, scraping her teeth, moving slowly. "Taste you while I’m being fucked."
My head falls back, hitting the wall. My breath is rapid; I’ve never been touched this way, let alone by a woman. I know my preference will always be for cocks, but Baby consumes me.
"Baby... I have nothing against your sexual orientation, but I’m not... Oh, heavens!" The creamy lipstick mouth bites my bust, making me gasp and instinctively push my hips towards her fingers, which are between my legs.
"No one is gay, Gim. We’re all sexual beings with wild instincts." Her teeth dig into my neck as her finger caresses the large lips of my pussy. "I’m just asking you to free yours with me."
She leaves me abandoned when she steps away, straightening up, and opening a wide smile with her smeared lipstick. Her hand opens the door in front of us, leading me inside. I see a large white space resembling an abandoned surgical room.
"This I did not expect!" The naked men inside have their faces hidden by leather masks, showing only their eyes and mouths. It’s both frightening and exciting. "I don’t think I can do this." I look at Baby, shaking my head. "Definitely not." The gynecologist’s chair in the center confirms this clearly, as they move away, letting me see the worn metal of the chair, which has a brown upholstery. I lift my eyes to the ceiling, seeing a large hook, like in a butcher’s shop, attached to thick iron chains, operated by a steel pulley.
Even with my alcohol level high and wanting revenge for my discovered cuckoldry, I know this is out of the question. I’m not going to have an orgy in any way.
"They are for me." Baby laughs, closing the door and pulling me with her.
I mentally count, and if I’m not wrong, there are eight men in here. The room is well-lit, without windows, and only has the chair in the center. This is madness! It’s intriguing in a way that makes my brain work, and my imagination sketches out everything that could happen here, all the different ways Baby might conduct the situation. It excites and seduces me in a way that even Freud couldn’t explain.

"Do you want to look?" I turn to Baby. She laughs, tossing her hair and holding my fingers in her hands.
"You said you trusted me, so now's the time to prove it."
There are men of various types, from skinny to muscular, short to medium and tall, with thin, crooked, straight, thick, long, small cocks, and those you look at and think: that’s going to hurt, but it will fit.
"I wasn't thinking of something like this when I said I trusted you." I laugh nervously, and before I know it, Baby has already seated me in the damn chair. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'we'll never tell anyone what happened here' or 'girl, you won't believe what you did last night, so drunk.'"
"And we won't, because what happens in Sodom, stays in Sodom." She winks at me, lifting my legs and positioning them in the chair. One of the guys approaches, fastening my leg with a leather strap. "And the fun isn’t being drunk on alcohol, but being intoxicated with pleasure."
"No one mentioned restraints, Baby." I turn my face to her, who is beside me, holding my arms and pulling them behind the old chair.
"This is a restraint, just to avoid the risk of falling and injuring yourself."
She fastens them with a belt, and despite the growing fear, I still want to know what comes next. She smiles at me, stroking my face, placing a kiss on my mouth, forcing her tongue in. Mixing desire and fear, and with the help of many glasses of champagne, I’m getting into her game. Baby’s fingers go to the zipper on the front of my dress, pulling it down slowly, stopping near my stomach, still holding me in her lips. Her hand pulls the fabric to the sides, exposing my breasts to the room’s temperature. A light pinch is made on the nipple, making me retract my body, moving it up, being restrained by the straps. Baby pulls her lips away from mine, leaving her face inches from mine, tracing my eyebrows with her nails.
"Do you trust me?" It’s the second time she asks, not to know if I trust her, but as if she’s giving me a chance to leave.
Leave, without looking back. But how can I leave now, after coming this far? Screw Freud, I’m doing this, living this moment even if it’s completely inappropriate, like Tom would judge me.
"Yes..." I whisper between quick breaths. Her mischievous smile is gone from her face when she steps back, only desire in her eyes.
She moves along my body with her sharp nails, until she reaches my foot, stopping between my legs. One of the masked men, with ebony skin, moves when she calls him. He sniffs her like a dog to a bitch in heat, burying his masked face in the curve of her neck. Baby’s lipstick-smudged mouth opens, tilting her neck back, her blonde hair being captured by the strong, dark arm. He holds her, sliding his hand down her neck. His other big, strong hand, with long fingers, goes to the front of the dress, pulling it down, exposing the pink orbs of her breasts, redefined in my mind as peach-colored. It’s beautiful, carnal, and alive, like a painting displayed in front of me. The contrast of skin, the breaths, and the smooth movements of bodies. Without warning, he pushes her, making her hold onto my ankles to support their bodies. I gasp along with her, opening my mouth slowly, just as her swollen lips part. A small anxiety consumes me, not seeing as many details as I would like, other than her face and the masked man behind her. Her nails dig into my skin. She bites the side of her mouth in a mix of anguish and pleasure, letting me see every reaction on her face as she is penetrated. I hear the slow thuds of bodies colliding in a back-and-forth motion, her head tilting between my legs, breathing heavily. I’m so engrossed in this scene that I only notice the men around me, scattered on each side, when pairs of hands begin touching my body, sending shivers through every part. I feel hands on my breasts, legs, arms, face. Fingers sliding behind my legs, fingers slowly touching the backs of my knees. But it’s the fingers scraping their nails along my stomach that I focus on.