ᙀᑎᗫᙓᖇ ᖶᕼᙓ ᙅᗩᕵᖇᓰᙅOᖇᑎ Sᙀᑎ [𝓓𝓻 𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓵𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝔁 𝓥𝓮𝓵𝓿𝓮𝓽 𝓚𝓲𝓽𝓽𝔂] NSFW

[Velvet Kitty]

XXXZara LuxeXXX • XXXSupplicantXXX • XXX26XXX ​

The afternoon's sea breeze wafted into the massive wood and bamboo pavilion, the hiss of crashing waves and rustling coconut fronds accenting the salty air. Within the open building, carpets and low couches done in hessian and mocha fabric had been pushed aside. Eight unclothed girls stood with their arms by their sides, still and silent as statues, forming the corners of a wide octagon. They served as background dressing to what was happening within the octagon's invisible lines. Fifty men, from college age to greying at the temples, all with muscles chiseled from stone and body fat percentages in the single digits, crowded like naked petals of a chrysanthemum flower around a similarly bare Zara Luxe. The final spurt of semen hit her right eye like a milky white dart. "Mmmnn!" Though her instinct was to yank the balls beneath the offending member in retaliation, Zara managed to squeeze out a muffled giggle for the camera, whilst struggling to hold onto the much bigger load of cum in her mouth. Blinking furiously to wash out the sting, she fought the urge to rub her dark eyes; it would only push more of the sticky fluid coating her face into it. The men stood like an expanded druidic circle around her kneeling form, basking in the glow of their debauchery, their erections deflating slowly. Amateurs! Zara thought. These men—the so-called Chosen of the Wave Callers—may all be virile eye candy, but they knew jackshit about camerawork. The production could also use better lighting, and more than one cameraman to capture multiple angles—you seldom get more than one take for a money shot. Zara made a mental note of the potential improvements, resolving to take it up with the production team later. The Chosen should be getting out of the camera's frame when they were done. Instead, they milled about like lost sheep, and she had to crawl her way through a forest of hairy thighs. Zara seated herself down on an unobstructed spot, her shapely legs out to one side like a mermaid's tail, giving the cameraman a good angle—the ring light mounted to the digital oculus catching her cum-drenched face and bare breasts just right, making them glisten for her fans on livestream. She yawned wide, displaying the half-dozen loads still on her tongue, which had gone numb to the salty sensation long before the Chosen men were even half done. Once the cameraman gave Zara the thumbs up, she swallowed and draped her tongue over her lower lip with an exaggerated slowness. I hope I don't get a sore throat from this, she thought. Her viewers' chat exploded. The tips and subscriptions poured in. Zara's first livestream had blown all expectations out of the water. Attending the Wave Callers lectures and signing up as a Supplicant had not been cheap, but it was the best decision of her life. Their spiritual master, Vance, was a genius. His teachings—free love being one of their tenets—had helped grow her puttering social media presence, from barely sufficient to keep up her Balinese beachside lifestyle, to a personal brand juggernaut of several hundred thousand followers. She had not yet met the man, beyond sitting in his lectures, but the other Wave Callers mentioned Vance was keen to consolidate all influencer follower engagement—hers included—by performing adult livestreams. For Zara, it was an opportunity to show Vance what she could do. She did not do it alone, however. Though there was still room for improvement, the production quality was significantly better with help from the other Wave Callers. Alone, she would have to split her earnings with hired male performers, manage filming, chat moderation, location, and the dozen other logistical challenges needed to get Zara onto her viewers' devices. With them, the other Supplicants and Devoted took care of the annoying details, and the Chosen provided the supporting act. Nobody even asked to be paid, they had all volunteered. All she had to do was show up and perform at their beachfront meditation resort. Their support had made the process so much easier, enjoyable even. And most importantly, it worked. Zara's viewers were throwing money at her. True, the money went to the Wave Callers and not her, but she would have donated it all to their shared cause anyway. Vance's organization provided so much more than influencer mentorship and logistical support—spiritual fulfillment, personal betterment, and above all, a community of driven individuals supporting each other. Money and material goods were crude substitutes for these things of true value. For the first time since leaving America to live in Bali, joining the Wave Callers had made Zara truly happy. The only thing missing was to meet the man who made it all possible, and to thank him. Personally. So when Vance finally showed up on set and sat himself in the producer's chair—with another lucky Supplicant girl suckling him between his legs—the drive to prove herself flared within Zara. She did not even pause to towel off before continuing the livestream. "To everyone who tipped, thank you so much for your support! It's you who allow me to do what I love. Remember, a five dollar tip gets you a single downloadable segment, and it's fifteen dollars for all five segments. And to my Elite tier subscribers, you get everything for free. Plus! All you wonderful Elites get to suggest and vote on this next segment where you decide what I'll do. If you would like to know more about becoming an Elite subscriber, check out the description in my profile @zaraluxeandbeyond." Zara scanned the viewers' chat, set up on a projector screen in the background for her convenience. "Looks like the poll results are back. What do we have here?" Zara's smile faltered. What had she done wrong? This was supposed to be her livestream. Were her viewers sick of her already? Her eyelid twitched as she read the result. "Fuck the redhead in the ass." She was a very dark brunette, and had not worn her natural colour for over a decade. Even so, her hair was currently dyed dirty blonde, and nowhere near a ginger tinge. Zara's smile locked into a rictus, damming up the frustration threatening to boil over. Her gaze travelled to one of the girls decorating the background, the only one with copper hair. Zara got up and strode toward her, every determined step coaxing a hollow clonk from the wooden floorboards. The Chosen men parted like the Red Sea. The cameraman struggled to follow, desperately trying to keep his equipment steady. The other girl's green eyes grew wide, wobbling unsteadily as Zara grabbed her hand, and dragged her in front of the camera's unblinking lens. "You guys want her right? What's your name dear?" "Emily," whispered the girl. The name hit Zara like a tsunami, it was the same one given to Zara by her parents, one she had discarded when she had reinvented herself. All at once, Zara's acrimony was washed away into the ocean. This must be what it is like to be Vance. Here was someone in need of guidance, and Zara was in a position to do so. Did he not teach that love shared would be returned tenfold? She snaked an arm around Emily's waist and pulled her close, facing the camera with her. Emily for her part, could not help but flinch from Zara's sticky embrace. "You'll have to speak up dear, our viewers can't hear you," said Zara, "You're beautiful. Own it. Be confident." "Hi, I'm Emily," she squeaked. "And what are you going to do for our viewers today, Emily?" The girl glanced at Zara for help. She obliged. "You're going to get filled by a nice hard cock up your ass. Go on, in your own words, tell the camera." "I'm going to get fucked in the butt." "Is this your first time?" "Yes…" "Well, I'm not going to lie to you. It's going to hurt. Bad. Try to relax okay? You're very brave. We're all very proud of you. Aren't we?" The viewers' chat positively erupted with encouragement, the tips rolled in once more from the horny bastards excited to witness Emily's first anal. "I'll try," Emily said. "Remember what I said about confidence? It's your ass cherry we're talking about here, you only get to pop it once. Look at all these viewers' tips! Look at their support! I wish I got cheered and tipped the first time I got buggered. You don't want to disappoint them do you? Now, what do you have to say to them?" Emily inhaled and let it out slowly. She managed to copy Zara's smile and proclaimed to the camera, "I think I'm going to like losing my ass virginity. Wish me luck, I'm getting fucked!" And waved at the viewers online. Another tipping frenzy ensued. "Good girl! We'll make a star out of you yet." Zara planted a kiss on Emily's cheek, strands of residual fluid stringing between them. She addressed the camera, "Now unfortunately, thanks to yours truly, our guys are all spent. Thank you guys, you all did a great job!" Zara pirouetted, displaying the result of their efforts for her viewers, then waved at the fifty Chosen. Who clapped, cheered, whistled, and whooped at the top of their lungs—like the unprofessional louts they were. Out of the corner of her eye, Zara could see the sound technician scrambling to compensate for their effusive outburst. "However, there's someone here who might be able to help." Zara walked Emily to the producer's chair, where Vance sprawled like an emperor. As the girl who was servicing him wandered away with a Cornetto in hand, Vance locked eyes with Zara, pushing his dextrous tongue deep into a second ice cream cone in his hand. Zara's womanhood, moist from hours of performing adult content, smouldered with wanton heat. There was nothing she would not give to be the dessert in Vance's grip. He moved languidly to tuck his sizable manhood back into his pants, uncaring that it had stood erect and exposed while he watched Zara and Emily approach. Zara's eyes could not help but follow his hands, transfixed at the member between his legs, the insides of her thighs slick with her juices. Only the practiced smile of a professional performer prevented her from biting her lip and betraying her inner thoughts to her audience. She glanced up to find Vance staring right at her, wearing a smug grin. Shit! He noticed me looking. Zara rallied. She was only partially successful in smothering her arousal, the bud above her slit still throbbed, begging to be touched, but it was just enough to address the camera again. "For our viewers who don't know who this is, shame on you. Meet the man who changed my life, the Enlightened Vance. Leader, guru, businessman, producer, and all round badass. I'll have to tell you about the Wave Callers in my next stream. To rise to the rank of Enlightened? That is a huge honour. But for now, would you do Emily the honour of deflowering her ass, Enlightened Sir?" Zara turned Emily around and bent her over, the other girl's toned tush pointed directly at Vance. Emily moved without prompting to spread her cheeks with her hands—what a natural, thought Zara—the girl's quivering star-shaped hole ready to be taken.

‒‒‒ X 〝 Some waves lap gently, others pull you under. 〞 X ‒‒‒ ​