Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
MONDAY
It was a tough call as to who would be my food table for the evening, but Ella, you will have the honour of being the platter board.
Your tits will make an awestriking set of dinner plates.
You will keep your gorgeous body still and stable at all times, eat only when you are offered food, and serve in whichever way you are required.
No words, please. Tables don’t talk!
Be prepared for both very hot and very cold substances. You will be the serving table for all three courses.
Proposal duration – three hours.
Reward – an exclusive preview of the upcoming series of Nighttime Whispers.
I ’m buzzing when Heath reads the proposal aloud. I’d happily be a table for five days straight for a preview of even one episode of the new series. People have been hyping it up for months, and the last one finished up on an asshole of a cliffhanger. Will the Count catch and bite Polly Anna or not?!
“I take it that’s a yes?” Heath asks as I grab the piece of paper from him, open mouthed.
“Um, let me think about it for a second. YES!”
“See if you’re still saying that at the end of three courses.”
“I’d stake my soul on it.”
“Interesting choice of words.”
Josh ruffles my hair. “What a winner for landing the proposal this evening, Ells. The reward of your dreams. Make sure you’re not too good at being a table, or we’ll ditch the one from the apartment and you can take up the permanent honour.”
“Screw that, Josh. I enjoy my pizza nights on the sofa, thank you very much.”
Heath points over to the dining table. The one at the far end of the kitchen diner. “It isn’t pizza we’ll be serving tonight, Ella. It’s something more… sensual.”
I clap my hands, trying to shove thoughts of Nighttime Whispers to the side. I have other pleasures to be focusing on right now.
“Back or front?”
“On your back, please. Naked and ready. Think of it as a different kind of massage table.”
It’s easy to get undressed living here with Heath, since I’m wearing virtually nothing day to day. I ditch my robe and dash over to climb up onto the table, positioning myself. This certainly isn’t the padded luxury I was lying on in the pamper room earlier, but it’s exciting. The table is a solid, light wood with enough space to stretch my arms up over my head and lay my legs flat.
“Who’s going to be the chef?” I ask, but Heath steps up with a finger over his lips.
“Tables don’t speak, remember.”
“Sorry.”
“In addition to that, tables don’t have eyes.” Heath pulls out a black satin blindfold from the pocket of his robe. I raise my head so he can fasten it in position. “Remember, curva, tables stay still. No moving. You’ll only get the reward if you pass the challenge.”
Apart from the blindfold, Heath doesn’t bind me. My limbs are free to move, and my body is able to squirm – which is going to make obeying commands so much harder. In bondage, there is no choice but to stay in position, but this kind of stillness is going to require some effort.
I know Heath is going to push me, but I’m going to succeed. I’ll be the best table in the world for even a glimpse at the new NW.
It feels like I’m waiting an age, blindfolded and bare on the top of Heath Mason’s table. I can hear the guys talking in the kitchen area – giving me lewd compliments amidst their general chatter. I hear pans and chopping boards being taken out and used, but besides from that there is no clue as to what’s on the menu. They could be making anything. Until I smell the onion in the air…
I hear the stirring of a pan. A sauce, maybe? Whatever it is smells delicious, and my stomach rumbles. It seems a long time since I ate last. The wood feels harder under my back, and my body has the instinct to move. To shuffle into a different position. But I don’t. I don’t break the proposal.
Somehow, even through the chatter and the dinner making, I know the guys will be keeping a close eye on my every movement. Or lack of it. It’s horny to be at the mercy of words on a piece of paper, but at the same time I wish I was a part of their duo, joining in on the kitchen action.
My stomach is rumbling hard when footsteps approach. I hear a guy on either side of me, and the clank of metal above.
“This is going to be delicious,” Heath says, from my left. “Nice and hot. Soup makes an excellent starter.”
And just like that , my rumbling stomach is covered in a thick river of liquid, so hot I hold my breath, because it hurts. The splatter really fucking scorches. I grit my teeth when the torrent dribbles over my tits, bracing myself until it begins to chill, and oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! The pan clanks before another load starts up, dribbling right onto my nipples as Heath lets out an mmm. Then the stream moves back down, more on my stomach… so hot and thick.
I know what’s coming before it happens. I try to stay still at the next pan clank, but it’s practically impossible as the ferocious heat of the liquid dribbles down onto my pussy. It really fucking burns.
I’m panting like crazy, muscles tense as I fight the pain. I can’t stop a whimper as fingers seek out my clit and begin to tease me.
“Beautiful,” Heath says. “Spread her wider, Josh, get ready for your starter.”
Wider?! Jesus, it’s going to burn so bad.
Josh splays my pussy lips and the pan clanks again. I grit my teeth hard, ready to be set on fire, but the pain gives way to pleasure in moments when it lands. Josh is there with a sweep of his pierced tongue in a millisecond, licking me clean.
“More, please,” he says, and another dribble of heat lands, my pussy lips still splayed wide and vulnerable – but Josh’s tongue is right there to save me from torture as he cleans me. His tongue keeps working, following the dribble of soup over my body wherever it goes. It’s a clash of sensations that work beautifully together – the scorch of pain followed by Josh’s horny, wet mouth.
Heath laughs when Josh starts sucking and lapping at my tits in a frenzy.
“Steady with the gobbling, Joshua. All three of us need to eat, remember?” I hear him step up to my head, with another clank of the pan. “Open your mouth, curva. Take your portion of soup. Your boyfriend is a great chef.”
I know Josh is a great chef. He works wonders in the apartment while we cook together, serving up the most delicious meals, packed full of herbs and spices.
I open my mouth wide, and Heath is careful as he feeds me from the ladle. I recognise the taste. French onion – how fitting. I’d love to give him a yum in appreciation, but I daren’t. I hope that the way I open my mouth and stick my tongue out conveys my thanks. I’m like a fledgling chick, hungry as Heath dribbles more soup onto my tongue. He’s so careful as he lets me savour and swallow.
“Good curva, only a touch of mess,” Heath says, and his hair trails over me for a moment before his tongue sweeps around my lips and down my chin. “My turn now. I want my portion.”
More heat. More ladles. More tongues. Two men licking soup from my naked body as I strain with the urge to arch and squirm for more. My skin lights up with desire, and I want the burn. I want the prickle of heat and the relief of hungry mouths in the aftermath. I want the agony of searing pain.
My thighs must be trembling when they return their attention to my pussy.
“Splay her wide,” Heath says, “make sure that beautiful clit is standing proud.”
I gasp when my pussy is splayed and Josh’s mouth lands on my clit. It’s so hard not to moan when he sucks and swirls his piercing.
“Let me see,” Heath says.
One last hard flick with his piercing, and fuck, I’m sparking like I could burst into flames, desperate for more when my boyfriend’s mouth leaves me.
“Such a gorgeous clit,” Heath says, and fuck how I tense when he clanks the pan. “Do not clean her up until I say so, Joshua. Understand? I want our sweet curva to feel this one.”
“Yes, sir,” Josh says.
Heath clanks the pan again and I grit my teeth as the hot liquid hits with a searing heat that almost – almost – makes me fucking scream.
I’m panting, my tits heaving, my pussy on fucking fire.
Heath must have given Josh the nod because suddenly his face is buried, his tongue lapping at me, and fuck it’s crazy how just like that I’m coming in his face, trying not to buck, trying to be still, trying to fucking breathe as my amazing boyfriend sucks the life out of me.
“Jesus,” Heath says when Josh finally pulls away. “That was… hot.”
Josh laughs. “Hotter for Ells than us. But yeah, so damn hot.”
“Let’s finish up,” Heath says, “there’s not much left.”
I tense like a bitch when he clanks the pan again. But hell it’s nice, as they take it in turns, slopping and lapping. So much soup over my body with hungry tongues licking me clean. I wonder if I’m a mess of gooey liquid, or nothing more than a slick, spit covered canvas. In a blindfold, I just can’t tell.
“Almost done,” Heath says, and the river of soup on my tits is a pure splosh as he empties the pan. They are tasting more than their yummy starter when they clean up the final portion. Teeth nip and tug my nipples, fingers kneading. Josh’s fingers are back on my clit, circling, and my breaths are shallow, the taste of soup still in my mouth when Heath’s lips land on mine. His tongue is after every last taste, digging around my cheeks as though I really am a soup bowl and he’s licking me clean.
I could curse as the two guys disappear.
I want more soup, and I want more heat. More pain and pleasure. And more them.
Drawers are opened and closed in the kitchen area – more pots, pans and utensils. My mind reels, trying to guess what’s coming next. Is it going to be another gloopy one? A stir fry? Noodles? Creamy pasta?
Seems it’s not Josh who is the head chef tonight.
“Go wipe the table down,” I hear Heath say, and footsteps sound in my direction.
I flinch when a spray of ice-cold water lands on my stomach with no warning whatsoever. I tense up, but Josh lays a hand on my leg.
“Tables don’t move, curva ,” he reiterates, mimicking Heath’s rich tone. “Make sure you stay still, no matter what.”
I don’t nod, just accept the spray as he soaks me all over. I grimace as he sprays a jet of water straight at my face, but I stay poised. Professional. My nipples must be bullet hard, my skin goosebumped when he splays my pussy lips and sprays three jets one after the other. Bastard.
A flannel lands and feels so good when he wipes me clean, paying special attention to my pussy as he dries me. I adore the fabric against my clit, and Josh knows it. He heightens the sensation on purpose, and trails the cloth up and over my nipples one after the other, enough to drive me wild.
Finally, he wipes my face clean.
I’m hoping he’ll kiss me before heading back to the kitchen, but he doesn’t, just walks away without a word.
There’s an unmistakable sizzling sound as something hits a pan. Meat. Hot, fresh, sizzling meat. I hear the flip, before another sizzle, and I smell a searing steak in the pan. My stomach rumbles afresh, because I love steak – rare and tender. It’s one of my favourites.
I’m nervous when footsteps approach again, because I can still hear the sizzle of the steak in the pan. I lay my palms flat to the tabletop and push down, clenching my stomach muscles.
“Here it comes, curva,” Heath says, and I try to steady my breathing. It’s going to be baking hot. Scorching. And no fucking shit, I get white behind my eyes when it lands on my ribs. It burns so bad I can barely breathe, taking every scrap of my resolve to stay still. I HAVE to stay still.
The steak must be rare, because I feel drizzles of liquid pooling in my bellybutton, and dribbling down my sides. The smell is enough to make my mouth water, despite my screaming skin.
Something pointed jabs my stomach, just a touch, and I flinch – instincts out of control. It’s a knife. A fucking knife.
“Be very still now, Ella,” Heath says. “I’ll be very careful, but any wriggles from you are going to be a hazard.”
He pokes me again, with the very tip of the blade, and I can’t stop myself whimpering. The fear is primal. Impossible to battle.
“I’ll forgive you that one,” Heath says. “And I’ll forgive you a nod or a shake of the head for this one, too. Do you trust me?”
I hesitate just a moment.
“Do you trust me, Ella, or do you wish to call off the proposal? The choice is yours. Yes, or no?”
My blood is pulsing through my ears, my instincts crying out NO, NO, NO, because I’ll be a carving tray. My body will be a carving tray for a knife sharp enough to slice through steak, and slice through me , if he’s not careful.
But do I trust him? Do I trust Heath?
I manage a nod.
Yes. I trust Heath.
I breathe in through my nose, and out through my mouth – slow breaths to take me away from the edge of panic. I’m going to be a carving tray for the Count. He’s going to be cutting a blood-red steak on my body, with a blade sharp enough to slice through my skin.
But once my breathing calms and the panic eases just a touch, something else takes its place. Surrender. That beautiful subspace where I put myself in someone else’s hands.
“Be still now, curva,” Heath says, and I feel the steak moving on top of me. I feel the motion of the blade as Heath slices, so close to my skin. Sweeps of a knife that could make me bleed.
The serrated edge touches me, grazing gently before it’s pulled away again to carve another slice. All my attention is on the way it feels, the sharpness of a metal blade as it lands and sweeps. The subspace consumes me, and in some deep-rooted part of my infatuation for extremity comes the crazy desire that Heath slips, and cuts.
“How about we give our platter some eyes?” Heath says, and his hands slip behind my head to take off my blindfold. I blink as I adjust to the light, then smile at the beautiful man up above me.
“Here, curva,” he says, and the scent of steak wafts close to my face. “Open wide for your dinner.”
My senses are skyrocketed to a whole new level now that I can see. I open my mouth for my reward, and Heath presents a chunk of meat for me. I chew on the piece of rare steak as he resumes slicing, and dare to look down, fascinated by the way Heath cuts. The knife looks so sharp. So dangerous.
I’m craving more of the blade than more of my dinner.
Josh laughs. “You look worse than a Nighttime Whispers victim.” He trails his tongue up my belly, then takes a piece of steak in his mouth straight from my skin, chewing before he licks some more.
Heath feeds me as they eat, and his slicing gets more ferocious when he reaches my tits, where the final bulk of the steak is lying. I smile, wondering if maybe this is the point I get nicked or cut. The blade is crazy close to my nipples, and Heath teases me, flicking them with the side of the knife.
“Does that feel nice, curva?”
I don’t speak. Don’t nod. Just stay still and watch as the blade hovers so close to my stiff nipple.
“How about this?” He places the serrated blade on the very top of my nipple. I know he’s controlling the weight of it when he slides the blade, touching just enough to make it prickle.
I thought my nipple couldn’t get any harder, but the sensations are crazy good as my nipple pebbles and strains for more.
“Beautiful,” Heath says before removing the knife and lowering his blood-stained lips to my tit, sucking my nipple in in one hard suck. Jesus fucking Christ!
He comes up for air, grabs a chunk of steak in his teeth and feeds me, kissing and biting at my mouth as we share the succulent treat.
“Simply divine,” he says, licking his lips. “You may have the pleasure of the last piece,” he says to Josh.
And it is a real pleasure as my man licks and sucks at my blood-stained tits before picking up the last piece of meat in his teeth, grinning at me as he brings it to my lips.
An amazing pleasure, chewing and kissing and licking at the juices.
With a final sweep of his tongue over my chin, Josh stands back.
“Wonderful,” Heath says. “Our sweet curva looks like she’s ready for dessert.”
The guys retreat, and I wonder what’s coming next. Josh is what comes next, armed with the spray bottle, filled with water. I get jetted again as he cleans up the table for round three, grinning at me as he does it.
I wish he would break the rules and make me come with the flannel. My clit is sparking with need, my adrenaline still pumping from the threat of the blade, and I want the release and I want more.
I want to feel a thin slice of a blade gone wrong. I want to feel the burn of it. I want to be the dirtiest most hardcore table girl there could be. My mind runs riot, spinning through the options, and I have to bite my lip so I don’t moan when Heath arrives with bowls in his hands.
The cold jet of water Josh was using is nothing compared to the chill of the dessert Heath lays on my tits. Ice cream, thick and vanilla. He spoons it over my nipples, and down… down…
Josh’s fingers splay my pussy without instruction and the freeze hits my clit, dribbling ice cream down my slit as it melts. I’m focused on trying not to shiver when Heath’s fingers tilt my chin up.
“Open, curva, but don’t swallow.”
I adore the way our eyes meet as he pours thick double cream into my mouth, right to the brim. I breathe through my nose, keeping myself as still as I can.
I’m an ice cream covered whore with a mouth full of thick white topping, but it keeps on coming. Squirts of chocolate sauce, coating me in criss-crosses. Another stream down between my pussy lips. The chocolate smells so good. Oh, how I’d fucking love some.
“Don’t swallow, curva,” Heath says again, and eases my thighs apart. Josh splays my pussy wider and Heath holds up a spoon so I can see. “I know you like metal in your cunt, Ella. I’m sure you’ll enjoy this.”
A spoon .
A spoon in my cunt – big and round .
Oh my fucking God, Heath Mason is fucking my pussy with a metal spoon. I have to battle not to choke on my mouthful of cream.
“This is going to make the ice cream taste so much better,” Heath says, pulling the spoon free from my pussy to scoop some up from my tits. Josh goes next, fucking me deep with his spoon before he takes a mouthful of vanilla. Then back to Heath. Both of them using my cunt as a dipping bowl before using my body as a plate. The ice cream is melting now, my bullet nipples feeling the creamy cold rivers as they run.
The guys’ hot mouths land next, interspersed with spoons, and I’m lost to it. I can’t move, can’t make a sound, can’t do anything but hold the sacred cream in my mouth like a good whore.
The chill of the air in the aftermath is almost worse than the shock of the chill I had when the ice cream landed. I’m cold now. Needy and tender, with my pussy crying out for more than just spoons. I want more metal inside me than that.
“Strawberry time,” Josh says, and I have no chance of keeping the cream in my mouth without dribbling when he pushes a piece of ripe fruit inside.
My mouth is a dipping pot. Strawberry after strawberry as the men dip and eat from me.
But where is my dessert?
My pussy is hungrier than my stomach. That’s where I want my dessert tonight.
Josh must read my mind.
“Keep that cream in your mouth,” he tells me. “We’re going to refill you, and you’re a lucky girl. Two types of cream at once.”
I can’t stop myself gurgling when he takes my thighs and hauls me towards him. The cream in my mouth sloshes, and I fight the urge to retch when it hits the back of my throat. But the discipline is worth it. The moment Josh’s swollen cock head glides its way along my gooey slit, I’m set for heaven.
The spoons had nothing on the barbells that pop their way in, one by one. He pumps me deep and fast, and for all my table pondering, I imagine how dirty they’ve been while I was a blindfolded player. Have they had their thick cocks set to burst all the while they’ve been eating? Have they been groping each other in the kitchen while they’ve been prepping the food?
It feels like it.
Josh doesn’t go easy. He fucks me with all his might, with a pump, pump, pump, fucking pump until he pulls out. He’s at my face in seconds, his knee on the tabletop beside me as he works his cock in his hand.
“Don’t you dare fucking swallow,” he says, and I groan as Heath takes position between my legs, slamming his thick barbelled shaft inside me as Josh blows his load right in my creamy mouth.
More cream.
Fuck yeah, I want it.
“Dirty girl,” Josh says and drops his face to mine. He licks my open lips, then dips his tongue inside, playing with the gooey mix of cum and cream. I don’t kiss him, just leave my mouth open wide, shunted back and forth as Heath pistons between my legs.
Oh, yeah. I want Heath’s cream in my mouth, too. I’m such a greedy slut.
Heath takes longer than Josh, gripping and groping my messy tits as he works himself up to shoot his load. He’s hitting the spot so well, and Josh’s mouth is so horny that I can’t hold back from coming myself, only I have to be still and silent through mine. I have to obey the instructions.
It’s so fucking hard.
The ripples that rock through me are intensified beyond belief by the way I have to clench my muscles to stay still. I close my eyes, wishing I could swallow and cry out, but it’s forbidden. This is a proposal. No matter what the situation, this is a proposal, and I’m an entertainer.
Heath doesn’t come inside me. Instead, Josh pulls away enough to let Heath angle his swollen cock at my mouth, working himself until his jets of cum add to the messy churn in my mouth.
Three loads of cream in one. Salty and sweet.
Heath dips his tongue in for a swirl, and it’s still dripping white when he rises. He kisses my boyfriend as I stare up at them, mute as they eat each other’s mouths out like partners in crime.
Or just partners.
They look like partners as they kiss. Heath takes Josh’s face in his hands, groaning with passion, and I may as well be nothing more than a table when Josh tangles his fingers in Heath’s hair right back.
It’s absolutely fucking beautiful.
They both have puffy lips when they finally turn their attention back to me.
Heath strokes a thumb across my cheek.
“You can swallow now, curva. Enjoy your dessert.”
It’s such a glorious relief when I do. What a fucking treat for me. I’d give them a thank you , if I was allowed to.
The guys scoop up the remnants of melted ice cream and globs of chocolate, and let me suck their fingers clean. Josh makes me retch on his, diving right to the back of my throat with chocolate sauce – and that starts a game that makes them grin like a filthy pair of jokers. Who can get their fingers the deepest, trying to make me retch on more and more thick gloopy goodness.
I’m such a good girl that I take both of them. They can have my throat. They can jab as deep as they want, but they won’t make me break my role.
Or so I think until Josh starts up, teasing my clit with his chocolate coated fingers.
“How much chocolate do you want, baby? How about some of Heath’s? Would you like that?”
My breaths quicken.
Josh looks at Heath.
“I think she wants some extra chocolate dip, don’t you?”
“Hmm… she’s welcome to some.”
“Go on, give it to her. Give it to your dirty curva.”
Heath hitches himself onto the table, so close I can see him spread his ass. His fingers are already messy with chocolate when he slides three into his asshole.
Josh works my clit, slow and steady.
“Give her that yummy chocolate,” Josh says, and his voice is laced with filth.
Josh wants it as much as I do. He wants to see me suck on Heath’s filthy fingers, straight from his asshole.
Heath gets down from the table before he presents his filthy fingers to my open mouth. He runs them around my lips, smiling at me.
“Let’s go real deep,” he says, and drives his fingers deep, curving into my throat, and pinches my nose with his free hand as he does it.
He fucks my throat with his dirty fingers, and I can’t stop choking. I can’t breathe if I don’t.
“Suck,” he says. “Suck like a good girl.”
I suck him like a good girl, with my nose still pinched.
I clean Heath Mason’s filthy fingers like they are the most delicious delicacy in the world.
And I come against my boyfriend’s fingers as I do it.
“That was everything I hoped it would be and more,” Heath says as he helps me down from the table. “And once again, look at the mess we’ve made. Always so filthy with our playtime.”
He’s not wrong. The table is a mess and so am I.
“It was amazing,” I say.
“Ditto that,” Josh says and I’m pulled into a group hug that feels so damn good.
I feel so damn good.
And I feel even better than good when my guys lead me to the shower and the pair of them lather me up, and it feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven, my two gorgeous gods, pampering me.
I don’t want this holiday to end.