]One thing about Kara that amused me was how her libido increased exponentially with the consumption of alcohol. It could often lead to intense sexual activity. On more than one such occasion, the sexual activity didn’t even really include her.
Connie, one of her friends from work was about to celebrate her forty-fifth birthday and Kara had discussed with me the possibility of doing a show for her and a few of her closest friends. I agreed, although I felt a little odd about performing the acts that to this point had only been prepared for in private in front of one of Kara’s coworkers.
Since Connie was a huge comic book fan, the theme for the show obviously fell to my supply of comic book hero costumes. Getting the people for the performance was easy, as we had already made several friends who would be glad to do it just for the fun of it. The place was what I expected to be difficult, until Kara managed to secure a large conference room on the fifteenth floor for a Saturday night meeting.
Kara was in her Catwoman outfit, pretty much choreographing the show. I was dressed, or undressed rather, in only my Batman cape and cowl and my utility belt. The remaining performers: Jeffrey Taylor, a male stripper and construction worker was Superman, Timothy Mason, a restaurant manager and dancer was the Flash, Bob Thompson, a fellow stripper who worked with Jeff was Two-Face and Willie Frees was done up as the Riddler.
Kara had gotten together with six of Connie’s other friends to set up the remainder of the party and on a table near the window sat a birthday cake, featuring Batman, several wrapped gifts and a collection of bottled alcoholic beverages and mixers. A large presentation board concealed me from the room, while all the others, dressed in complete costumes greeted Connie at the door.
Connie was thrilled by the comic characters and enthused over how perfect they looked. Perhaps a little too perfect in the case of our Superman, whose muscular body filled out the costume exactly as it should, until you looked at his groin and realized he more than filled the trunks out. Jeffrey was a very popular stripper; mostly because no thong could hold all of his more than twelve-inch long cock and as soon as he would start dancing, he would accidentally slip out.
After Connie had finally been moved to a seat of honor at the head of the massive conference table, flanked by two groups of three friends, Kara climbed up onto the table and strutted to the center.
“It’s time to get this show on the road!” She growled. “And it’s just going to be purr-fect.”
Connie was taken aback. She had no idea what was coming. In truth, none of the women did. I wasn’t entirely sure myself. I only knew that this was to be along the lines of the shows we had been working on; the difference being Kara would make it up as we go and the action would follow her commands. Rather like a twisted square dance.
“Bring out the victim.” Kara commanded.
The four costumed characters came around the upright board and lifted me, one man to a limb and carried me out into the open. Connie’s eyes went wide as saucers when they fell to me, my nearly naked body being carted out before her like an offering to some ancient god. Her friends gasped and tittered, as surprised as she.
My four captors carried me to the table and made their way down opposing sides, sliding me along the polished wood spread-eagle until I was very near Kara’s booted feet. With a cat-like purr, Kara turned and stepped over me, straddling my body, while the other four costumed players held me immobile.
With a wink, Kara reached to her belt and unclipped the woven yarn cat-o-nine-tails she had made especially for the Catwoman costume. Then, turning to face Connie and her companions, squatted above me seductively and with a twirling motion brought the whip snapping against my balls. The yarn of itself didn’t hurt, but there was pain from the metal beads that tipped each tail of the whip. I flinched and so did the audience. The reaction pleased Kara and she set about to keep the sympathetic emotion going, thrashing at my cock and balls wildly. Thankfully it looked far more painful than it was.
In a matter of minutes, Connie and her friends were really getting into the performance and after imbibing a few drinks had allowed their inhibitions to drop far enough to start making suggestions. As the group began calling out for me to be spanked, or jacked-off, or other off-color activities to be performed, the men rolled me onto my stomach.
“I have a better idea.” Kara purred, ignoring the somewhat kinky, yet rather tame suggestions the women shouted. “Riddler?”
Willie grinned like an idiot and climbed onto the table beside her.
“Give us a riddle.” Kara commanded.
“All right,” The puzzle spouting comic book character began. “What’s nine inches long, stiff as bourbon and fills a crack?” When he was met by blank stares from his audience, Willie yanked his pants down, displaying his rigid manhood. “My cock!” He laughed, dropping between my thighs and mounting me.
“Oh. My. God.” Connie shrieked, her eyes wider than before. With similar displays of shock, her friends released numerous expletives before moving to gain a better view of the Riddler fucking the Dark Knight up the ass with long, rapid strokes.
One after the other, the comic characters climbed atop me, parting my buttocks for their stiff cocks. Tim, AKA the Flash followed the Riddler, utilizing his eight-inch rod with a rapidity that honored the costume he was now half-wearing. Two-Face Bob’s ten-inch pole came after the Flash, finally followed by Jeffrey’s foot-long Superman cock. Those not currently involved in filling my ass at the moment, joined in the drinking and watching until I was most likely the only sober person in the room, since I had no opportunity to get away.
Kara had succeeded in downing several drinks herself and was now choreographing a frantic round-robin butt-fuck, as almost in a dance the halfway-costumed characters rolled up on top of me, pumped my ass a few times then, rolled off to be replaced by the next. Then, suddenly after what seemed the longest time, it stopped and Kara instructed I be rolled once more onto my back.
“Ladies,” Kara called. “Your assistance.” She motioned to the group of women to pinion my arms and legs while she climbed from the table and walked to the edge closest to my head. I could see her eyes were unfocussed, that she was well and truly d***k and I had no idea what she had planned next, or if she was just making it up as she went along. Framing my head with her hands, she pressed on the joints of my jawbone, forcing my mouth open.
“Gentlemen,” She purred. “Let’s feed the bat.”
The order confused me, until I saw my original captors climbing onto the table, stroking their erections frantically. Oh, Hell no! Pinned to the table, my mouth held open, I could only lie there in acceptance as each of the men stroked his way to orgasm, firing his hot load into my gaping mouth. Choking on the cum that filled my mouth from the four ejaculating men, I had no choice but to swallow, gulping down the thick semen as more was pumped from their pulsing cocks.
When finally their orgasms ended and the men dropped back, Kara clamped my mouth shut, forcing me to swallow even the last little bit of the group’s bitter cum. The women who had, up until this moment, been pinning me down raised their hands and voices in triumph.

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