My Name is Priscilla (Fu/fu, group sex, cuckquean/NTR, rough sex, bdsm, humil)

Story by Kuroshio

Probably the last story I'll upload here.

Chapter 1:

My name is Priscilla and I am a successful businesswoman and wife.

I’ve always been a go-getter, a hard-charger, the most likely to succeed, the amazing girl who would have it all, a role model. And I did have it all, for a long time: merit scholarship to NYU, graduated in the top fifth of my class with undergraduate degrees in both Management and Marketing, engaged at twenty-one, master’s program at Georgetown, interned at one of the major New York firms, secured an executive position at the hottest tech start-up hiring, married at twenty-three and earned my first million before I turned twenty-six. I didn’t think anything could possibly upset that, but life has a funny way of throwing the most unexpected curveballs.

In my case, it was a video I found while looking through old flash drives. It was of my wife, Emily, dating from the time when we were still casually dating, during our college years. I knew she liked to party, and although I disapproved, I didn’t mind as she stayed on the cleaner side of that life. I remember once she accidentally texted me instead of her friend, asking if she was going to attend the party thrown by a notorious group on campus. The Vixens weren’t a sorority; if they had been, they would have been banned from campus within a semester for their antics, if not their stated mission. They were one part party crew, one part sex club and zero parts acceptable to me, exclusively open to girls of a very particular sort; tall, attractive, sexually dominant dickgirls who were infamous for the upstairs action at most of their events.

Emily had hastily assured me she was just there to dance and mingle and she’d of course never dream of going upstairs, no way, no chance. I’d been suspicious, but dismissed my concerns as merely being possessively paranoid. She’d gone to other parties thrown by Vixens, always assuring me that she was only going to dance and rumors were severely exaggerated anyway. But finding that video, I was faced with black-and-white evidence to the contrary. The video was clearly an impromptu amateur production, with bad lighting, shaky camerawork, a pulsing baseline from nearby party and the first few seconds being a short clip of a girl in a skimpy red bikini doing cart wheels on the beach. There were six vixens scattered around the room, all of them in matching purple t-shirts and bottomless, along with two girls and a guy wearing typical going-out clothes. Most were standing around, drinking alcohol and smoking what clearly weren’t cigarettes, but one vixen was bent over a table, coming up a second later with a rolled up dollar bill and wiping her nose clear before letting out a cheer, “Let’s get this fucking started, bitches!”

She was tall, blonde and blue-eyed with the high cheekbones of a professional model, flawlessly smooth skin, big tits that only barely gave in to gravity and a fat cock that hung at least five inches flaccid. She grabbed a pear-shaped girl in a white micro-skirt sitting on the couch, taking a handful of hair in her hand and forcing the girl’s face to her shaft, “Lick it up, baby, c’mon.”

The pear-shaped girl went right at it, moaning as she licked the vixen’s shaft up and down, sliding off the couch and onto her knees to get a better position. At the same time, the tall blonde vixen reached over to the other girl, a much more demure sort with a no-nonsense bob of red hair, and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her in tight. The vixen moaned and began kissing the shy redhead full out on the mouth, with a positively sloppy amount of tongue while guiding the other girl’s mouth on her girlmeat. The camera girl took a few steps towards her, “Dammit Melissa, there are only three, you can’t be having two!”

The tall blonde vixen, Melissa, pulled a little bit back and flipped the bird at the camera. The shy redhead took the opportunity to break away from her, looking somewhat uncomfortable to me. Not that it helped her much – she was immediately scooped up by another vixen, a girl with side-shaved black hair, tattoos and severely toned muscles who dominated her by hungrily licking her neck and pawing her ass with one hand. The other hand easily prevented her feeble attempts to push the vixen away and she stopped trying after a few seconds, melting into the vixen’s arms.

The camera suddenly shook and came look down at the camera girl’s cock, a dainty hand working the flared head over before the guy’s face came into frame, looking eager as a beaver. He wasted no time slurping down that girlmeat until he was gagging, with watery eyes looking up into the camera. When his gagging got worse, the camera girl grabbed his head and forced him down further anyway, paying no heed to his discomfort, “C’mon Stevie, open your throat up, let a sister in… that’s good. More like that, deeper boy

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