Excerpt from: "A Dicey Adventure" by Simon Grail

 

Kay landed on the "Swing Time" stage, which was midway between the blue and green corners, so her audience was mixed. Both applauded her equally, however, and called out advice and encouragement.

The swing itself hung from a supporting frame very like one might see in any playground, except that it was taller than average, by two long lengths of chain. Instead of a simple wooden board, the swing seat was a hoop of metal that went about the waist, with an anal hook at the back, while a pair of broad rubber strap loops hung from its sides. They went around Kay's thighs, helping to support them in a seated position and also opening them wide.

The requirement to keep her thighs spread was necessitated by the row of strange objects in front and behind the swing as it hung at rest.

They were two dozen huge purple rubber penises, standing stiffly erect and varying in height from about fifty centimetres to two meters. The heights increased towards each end of the row, so that their heads formed a curve to match the arc the swing would make when it was in motion, with their tips passing between the hanging thigh straps of the swing.

Using the swing would mean her groin and the penis heads would come into intimate contact.

As Kay approached them, the rubber phalluses began to sway and pulse disturbingly.

Examining them up close she saw they had accurately moulded foreskins, glans and slots in their tips.

'Well, at least you won't be talking back to me,' Kay said.

'Why not, Red Lady?' the two dozen rubber phalluses replied in chorus.

'Oh God!' Kay exclaimed.

The penis head slots were all flexing like lips as they spoke.

'Now get into the swing,' they said. 'We want to feel your soft pussy lips rubbing through our heads!'

With a despairing sigh, Kay settled herself in the strange minimal saddle. How long had it been since she had sat on a swing? And she had never been on one like this, that was for sure.

Its anal plug slid up into her aching rectum, which was still slippery with blue spectator cum, which eased is passage. The side straps went around her thighs and hooked in place, holding her legs bent and splayed. Now the cleft pout of her pussy mound hung down between her thighs, feeling very exposed. Ahead and behind her was the rising curve of rubber penis heads, with their slots aligned with the plane of her swing. Moving forward or back would brush them through her groin. Beyond them was the course and the spectator stand. They would get a good look at everything she did.

'Start swinging, start swinging!' the penises called. 'We want to taste your pussy juices!'

And they seemed to smack their rubber urethra lips in anticipation.

Taking a deep breath, Kay kicked her legs forward and then back, and slowly she began to swing.

The heads of the nearest penises slapped against her gaping sex lips in quick succession. The impacts were not hard enough to hurt, but they were on her most sensitive flesh, parting her cleft wider and teasing her inner labia. In response, she felt her juices flowing once more.

'Higher, higher, we want a taste of you as well!' the taller penises at the ends of the rows called.

Kay kicked her legs out harder and wider in time with the period of her swing, building up speed. More penis heads slapped against her pussy, parting it wide enough so they began to smack against her clitoris, which was by now standing up hard. Front or back, there was no escaping them.

She was swinging through a hundred and twenty degrees now - a third of a circle. At that brief moment at the top of her swing between rising and falling, her breasts rose weightlessly. Her legs were wide and rubber cock-slapped pussy dripping. The spectators were shouting and applauding her display. She was feeling dizzy and shamed and elated all at once.

It felt as if the rubber phallus heads were kissing her pudenda with their slotted lips as she riffled through them. Now they were seeping milky juices that splattered over her inner thighs, stomach and plugged bottom.

Thrilling pressure was building up inside her. She was going to cum, she was going to cum...

But the phalluses beat her to it. They began to spout: twenty-four brief fountains of milky ejaculate one after another. And she flew through them, feeling the milk splatter all over her, and with a sob she climaxed and added a misty spray of her juices to the shower.

In the middle of the game board, the red bell chimed again, and jerked up a notch.