Hands were going further and further up my legs, my skirt was nearly up round my waist, the guys were rubbing my pussy through my tights. I was loving...every minute."It's time for the ice-cube game," one of the guys whispered in my ear.I looked down the table and see a guy walk from the kitchen area with a jug full of ice cubes."What the fuck are the rules to this game?" I asked, hardly able to catch my breath."You will find out soon enough," they told me.The guys moved so there were four guys. Snaps. The swish of the whip. The whisper of lingerie falling away from a perfectly willing body. Restraint. Moans of dangerous pleasure. Each carrying its own sweet flavour, a spice rack of decadence. My Devil’s Paintbrushes were ready. It was time for the final act.I had several swarms of nanobots lined up, microscopic divisions of hedonism. One group of bots was to be used to vibrate across her clit, a second set of bots would mold itself into a replica of my cock to fill her pussy, a third. More

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