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I had been kept in absolute darkness for what felt like an eternity now. With what little movement I was allowed, I could feel the confines of the reinforced box surrounding me, a piece of furniture that my husband and I had acquired during our last visit to San Francisco, bequeathed to us by good friends of ours who were downsizing. I could already envision the tight silver clasps and brutish padlocks keeping them shut binding the blackened wood with just my head protruding from its top, clad in a leather hood which blotted all else out, rendering my escape impossible from the void that ensconced me. Not that I minded, but with my limbs bound as they were, cage tight around my cock and balls and with a mould of my husband’s penis impaled deep up my rear – a birthday present I perhaps should have rethought – a few hours in this precarious abyss and I was beginning to grow restless and feverish for attention.

But my spouse was a kind soul, attentive as ever, and though I knew he was entertaining guests he would quietly retreat to where I stayed captive, feeding the tip of a water bottle to my parched lips and checking me over to ensure I was safe and okay. His whispers barely made it through the thick leather, the brushes of his fingertips against my skin, but always concise and concerned, asking how I was, if I needed anything, if anything hurt. I told him only the truth, that my cock was painfully hard, that my hole kept clenching around the fat girth of the fake shaft, and that I begged for something more than an interminable nothingness. But that was all he needed to know, that above all else I was secure to continue suffering. As quietly as he came he would leave me to my darkness, satisfied I would be capable of surviving another unceasing solitude with nothing but my own thoughts.

I lost track of time, it would have been impossible to say how long I had been there, for even a minute felt like an hour, an hour a day, a day a week, until it all bled into an eternity punctuated with just the fleeting moments where my lover would descend upon me like a thief in the night and interrupt the silence. It would have been enough to drive anybody crazy, not knowing when they might be free, if they ever would be free again, left alone in torment without the hope of release dangling just out of reach. I’d like to say I was above all that; that my experience and limits were seasoned enough to cope with such a scene, but I was only human. I too could only push so far until cracks would show, I too held back the sobs of indecency and fear as I waited for nothing and no one. I loved my husband dearly, until death do us part, and though I abided always by his will, the darkness was something akin to death. I slipped deeper into my own addled mind, my conscious thought just a drop in the ocean of my servitude to my partner, drowning myself into the subspace.

An eternity more passed before something in me sensed company. People were milling around, their footfalls vibrating through my limbs, their voices muffled and incomprehensible in my current state. But my isolated senses became curious, as I sniffed and tasted the air with my tongue, the stench of sweat and sex was overwhelming, drying cum of all kinds heavy in the air as it radiated around me. Much like the heat too, a swathe of warmth swaddling me, their body heat rampant and elevated, as it became easy guesswork to wonder just what exactly had happened in my absence. Another of my husband’s infamous shindigs, parties for our most exclusive and trusted friends, though he enjoyed rotating through various circles to keep the spice of variety there. I had often joined the crowd myself, though always at my husband’s discretion, and occasionally, much like tonight, I had been sequestered for some nefarious purpose, as ever it was with my partner. I had fallen in love with his spontaneity, his imagination and adventurousness, to which I constantly fell victim to.

“Gentlemen!” The deep, commanding voice of my beloved spoke, loud and clear like a church bell, loud enough for even me to hear. The room fell to a hush, “Thank you all for coming tonight….” A snicker went about the room, my husband too sharing a chuckle, “Robert and I have had a wonderful time.” Me, he was talking about me, but I had been locked away, like a misbehaving pet, a fact any of them must have been painfully aware of. “At least, I have so far, I’m sure Robert will as you head on out. Please, feel free to clean yourselves up as you go, take your time, and we’ll look forward to having you all again.”

So ended my husband’s speech, resuming the soft thrum of the room as people again returned to swimming around me as if I was nothing more than a piece of furniture myself. A box in a room, nothing more and nothing less, an object to be used if necessary, ignored whenever else. I drifted deeper and deeper into the recesses of my mind, bodily sensation both focused and yet distracted from the dildo in my ass, the cage around my strained erection, my swollen balls or bound wrists and ankles. I was nothing but a thing to them, an entity they didn’t even consider.

I was dragged back through my delirium when I felt something slimy and firm pressing at my lips. In a hungry blur I had already opened my mouth and swallowed what was offered without even a second thought, only to find that as I suckled I had been fed a man’s cock, still plump but quite spent, as if seconds ago he had just unloaded his seed. It was generously large even in its semi-hard state, a promise of a goliath as it slipped deeper into my maw until thick, coarse pubic fur shoved under my nose, fat balls tapping against my chin. He just about reached the back of my throat, though I had long since lost my gag reflex thanks to my husband’s efforts, and I could feel him fully inside me. Human, like myself, most definitely, and I could feel the pressure of a stomach bearing over my forehead informing me that he was a heavy set gentleman, most likely a bear, as much as any human could be one these days. He was cut of any foreskin, not that I minded, and he tasted of thick, creamy cum, sharp musk smothering his cock. I was cleaning away the dregs of cum he had fucked fresh into the ass of some other suspecting party goer, their bitter taste slathered across his shaft as much as his own seed was. I could taste others too, slippery flavours of other men, sloppy seconds abound it seemed, as he pulled back, wiping what was left of his cock against my lips to dry away my spittle. I swallowed what was in my mouth, savoured the feeling of it coating my lips, and waited for more.

The next male to come forward was canine, without a doubt, as I slid my lips around his engorged shaft, his cock still throbbing hard as if he wasn’t anywhere close to finishing yet. Yet again spent cum was smeared across his meat, some his own, a lot of it belonging to others, as different consistencies and flavours slathered themselves against my tongue. He pushed deep, paws clamped around my skull as he took control of sliding himself into me. Down into my throat he went without a thought, and he cared even less when my lips strained to take his swollen knot. Gagged on his dick, he popped that fattened bulb of flesh into my maw and pinned it full, inches curving down the passage of my gullet, quietly choking on his cock. Were this a sexual experience, he may very well have begun to hump my throat, until he drove himself to another orgasm and shot his load directly into my starving stomach, but there was no intent of pleasure behind these men’s actions. The canine sat there, wallowing in my mouth, idly sitting in my throat, as I sucked him clean and struggled to breathe around his thick shaft. Minutes passed until I could taste fresh air again, as I spluttered to inhale through the strands of spit and cum in my mouth. He yanked his meat free, once more following suit and wiping himself dry against my face before he was gone, leaving me with just the imprinted stench of cock pasted over me.

I expected another to be thrust into my gasping mouth, but I felt my face smothered, pressed between something large, thick, and unrepentantly ripe; I could feel the hot cheeks of a pair of buttocks press against my own as unceremoniously another man sat on my head – or as best he could, given the angle. He leant into my face, legs and cheeks outstretched, as he guided his hole to my lips. I only knew that was his plan when I felt the slack, wet muscle of his rim smear and rub itself against my mouth, a tang of cum and other flavours I dared not question too much burning on my senses. Obediently I greeted his ass with my tongue, a greedy kiss that pressed into his well-bred hole with manners that many had come to expect from me. Immediately I sampled the tart, pungent aroma of his guts, the purest taste of ass any gay man – or anyone else adventurous enough – knew all too well. The stranger pushed back on my face as I slurped at his oozing rim, tongue squelching through the sloppy, soggy run-off of stewed cum that bubbled back into my mouth and gulped down my throat. Many men had fucked him, all sorts of species and breeds, and with ample, generous loads. It was a steady stream of slimy cum that slithered down my throat as I drank from him, eating him until he was clean and emptied, gorging myself on the feast of his asshole and all the gallons of seed that came with it. I had no idea whose loads they were, or who even was feeding them to me, just a sweaty, plump butt riding my face until every last drop was milked. He dismounted once he was satisfied with my work, my tongue sliding free from his guts as it hung there like a panting dog, still coated in cum and saliva, breathing once more clean air after suffusing myself in musky ass.

I was not left for too long wanting, as no sooner had mystery ass number one stepped away that a second planted itself immediately in his place. Again an equally thick rump, but the stench was altogether far more potent. It stung on my sinuses as I suffocated under him, the prime specimen of a skunk, a species my husband was all too fond of volunteering me to eat ass for. I think one time I had spent a day buried under the mounds of his rear chowing down on his hole all because my partner had wanted it, and therefore commanded it to be so. This man was no different as he made himself comfortable atop my face, globes swallowing me whole into his cleft just as I swallowed his musky hole between my lips. He was a far greedier bottom than the first male, his hole much looser, much sloppier, as if he’d been bred by twice as many guys than the first. With just a single flex of his puckered hole I felt slimy, hot cum erupt onto my face, streaming down my throat as I struggled to gulp what I could. I whined pathetically in gargles of seed as I thrust my tongue deep into his hole and curled, a crude funnel to channel the pouring loads directly into my mouth. My cheeks burnt fiercely underneath the hood as I ate, my cock so tight against the cage I worried I might cause damage to myself. I couldn’t help it though, the more casual abuse they laid onto me, the deeper I sunk into my lust. I burrowed deep as I could into the skunk, my greedy sounds of slick, moaning grunts loud even for me, and I pushed as much as I could for what little was left once it had slowed to a trickle. As the skunk gave one last stale blasted fart of air in my face for a job well done, he lifted himself off, revealing my craning, starving mouth to the open once again. I’m sure I was a sight to behold, just a disembodied head thrashing in his box, waiting for the next male to grace him with what leftovers he had to offer, dining on the wastes of an evening enjoyed by everyone else but me.

It didn’t matter what they fed to me next, whether it was another ass or somebody’s cock, I welcomed it with a ravenous hunger that sucked them all dry. A horse came along and slid himself all the way down my throat until he came for an umpteenth time that night, though I never tasted a drop as he dumped it direct into my gut. He nickered sadistically as he pulled out, flare and all, chortling as my neck bulged obscenely as the stretched flesh tore its way back. After that was another human, a twink judging by the size of his butt, as he spread his cheek and pushed that pursed rim into my mouth. For his size, he held far more than you would have imagined, as he unloaded a gallon of what I could only guess was several of the horse’s loads into my mouth. I drank from him as if I had never been able to quench my thirst, and his soiled gut’s worth of cum was the only liquid I had ever tasted. Once he had drained himself dry I had another dick plunged into my still slick mouth, the taste rank and greasy as whoever the man was humped my face until he was satisfied that he’d made me suffer enough. I licked him clean all the same, as dutifully as was expected of me, though once his taint was smeared across my tongue it refused to leave, and every cock afterwards lingered of him. I’m sure my husband would be interested to bring him back for a special one-on-one with me, as training my limits was something he so rarely got to do once I had met all his other expectations. There were just as many asses as there were cocks, all manner of shapes and sizes, each leaving their printed mark on my face as one by one that squatted to deposit whatever loads they had saved into me.

There was no true way I could have known how many there were, who was dumping what, whose load belonged to whom, it was all just a blur of hole, meat, and cum, all bleeding together until there was nothing left in my mind but the sensation of musk and stale cum, my body defeated to the dildo in my ass, my cock pinching at the steel encasing it. Never had it been a point of using me as if I were a slave, or even a toy. I was just a glorified dumpster, something to empty their leftovers into to save them the trouble of a damp crotch or leaking from the backdoor. With that realisation alone branded in my mind as eventually, somewhere in the fog of reality, the men stopped using me, I drifted once more into nothingness. I was nothing but a dumpster for other men’s waste, and I was consumed it.

Clatters of locks and jingling keys roused something of my waking mind, and only when cold air breathed around my sweating skin did I surface to the real world. I was being released, carefully and slowly, as one by one my restraints were undone and I was extricated from my bondage. Gingerly paws lifted me from the box, limbs weak like a new-born as I trembled, hole aching as the dildo of the gargantuan bear cock slid from my guts with a rude expulsion of stewed lube and gas. Fingers picked at my hood and pried away the sodden fabric from my skull, pulling me into the light as if I had indeed been literally born, blinking up at the man who held me in his arms, embracing me tightly to his chest. I burrowed my face between the softness of his breast, his weight having left them sagging slightly, his bloated belly like a cushion I sank in to, and I lost myself to his presence.

“You were such a good boy tonight,” he whispered softly to me, fingers brushing through my cum-slick hair, not a care in his mind for the stains I would leave in his fur as he pressed me into him, “Such a good boy, Bobby. My Bobby. I’m so proud of you.” As much as the void he’d left me had been an eternity, so too was that precious moment with him in his arms, cradled in his size, a true giant compared to my scrawny human frame, “Tell me, boy, did you have fun being the party favour?” I nodded, slathered face buried in his chest. He smiled, such a warm smile that told me everything was alright, that conveyed all the love I needed to feel from my husband and lover, “Good, I’m happy you enjoyed yourself.” We lifted from where we sat, me still in his arms, the black bear carrying me as easily as he could carry a child, destined for the bathroom where I knew he would prepare a hot bubble bath and freshly laundered towels, all before cuddling in bed, “Because everybody loved you, they thought it was a fantastic idea. They can’t wait until the next get together…” His words washed over me, though I understood their meaning my mind was prepared to register them yet. “You’ll gladly be the party favour again, won’t you sweetheart?” It wasn’t a question, just another order disguised as a suggestion. But even if the choice was not mine, I wanted it all the same, and so I nodded, much to my Master and husband’s glee, “Good boy! I’ll start sending out the invites then.”