19. Beatrix
19
BEATRIX
I may not be high on Molly, but I’m pretty sure I’m drunk on power.
“My Pretty Doll. I should’ve brought outfits down from the house to dress you up.” The sound Knox makes, like he enjoys the idea, makes me laugh. “I like to shop online. Maybe after this, if you’re not too upset, I’ll show you my favorite websites.”
My giggling is about as uncontrollable as Knox’s heavy moans and eye rolls. Everything about this moment is wrong. Yet I can’t find it in me to care. I lean down and place my cheek over Knox’s frantically beating heart. My pussy clenches around nothing, looking for some relief.
I trace his areola, then giggle as he sucks in a sharp breath. He holds it for a long moment before letting it out. The sound is shaky as it escapes from his nose. I tweak his nipple next. This is too much fun. It’s not fair. I should stop.
I already told myself when I slipped the paralytic into Knox’s drink that this was just so I could play with a life-sized doll. It was something he couldn’t get mad at. He himself had mentioned wanting to try blending not all that long ago, and he said he liked my work when he looked at my clients on the wall. Really, it was a win-win for both of us.
But when I got him onto the table, I couldn’t resist cutting off his clothes. I mean, why not demean him a bit? He left me naked in a coffin, after all. Climbing up on him was a mistake, though. I could’ve easily lowered the table to work on Knox. I do it all the time with the bodies that come in here.
Yet I felt emboldened. Knox can’t yell at me, push me off, or threaten to hurt me—so why not? My whole life has consisted of other people dictating what I should and shouldn’t do, controlling me in their own ways. Today is different. Knox is mine to play with however I wish. Why shouldn’t I take what I want? Anyone else would in this situation.
My body feels hot. So terribly hot. My pussy flutters, searching anxiously for relief as this heady feeling of control turns to fierce, scalding-hot desire. I giggle as I stroke Knox’s arms, and he groans beneath me. I love this. My giggles shift into a soft whimper as my core spasms again. I need to be filled. That would assuage the ache between my legs.
I blame Sagan and Thatcher for this desperation to be filled. Before them, I never considered sex. Not really, at least. With how much others took advantage of me, my body never warmed to the idea of searching for companionship. Now, however, I’m ravenous for dick. Just the thought of sinking down onto Knox’s cock steals my breath and sends a shudder of need through me.
Impishly, I peer over my shoulder. I tell myself it’s just to take a quick look at what he’s packing. And I’m only going as far as he had. Knox had a full view of my pussy while I fingered myself for him on camera. Why shouldn’t I be able to do this?
To my surprise, Knox’s dick is standing at full mast. I pause, surprised that he’s hard. Is he… no. There’s no way he’s feeling just as hot and needy as I am. He’s supposed to be uncomfortable right now. Could this be a side effect of the drugs in his system? My breath catches as I study his length and how stiff and red he is. What’s more shocking, however, is the jewelry lining the head of his dick. Before I can stop myself, curiosity has me wiggling down his body so that I’m straddling his upper thighs to get a better look at what Knox has done to himself.
There are six round studs positioned evenly around the tip of his dick. Embedded in them are gems of all colors. They practically sparkle in the sterile light. These are what I had seen glinting in the light in Knox’s room the night I’d peered in on him and Thatcher. I hadn’t gotten a good view of his dick then, but now I understand.
“Knox… what is all of this?” I ask breathlessly.
Unable to stop myself, I reach forward and twist one of the studs. Knox lets out a hearty moan and his face flushes a deep red.
“That feels good?” I can’t believe it, yet his dick twitches in earnest when I do it again.
What would those feel like inside me? Or if I rubbed up against him? My gaze flickers to Knox’s face. His dazed expression is pointed upward at the ceiling, but I’m sure he’s well aware of me sitting here looking at his dick. I want to know more about these piercings. Are they more for him, or for his partners? I think of Sagan and Thatcher and wonder if they enjoy them.
I don’t know how I manage to wiggle off my panties, and I don’t quite remember when I hitched up my dress, but suddenly, my pussy is pressing down and sliding against Knox’s veiny length.
“Oh…” I breathe, my eyes rolling up into the back of my head. “Knox.”
When my clit gets to the round studs, it creates a strange and amazing sensation. The sound I make as a whisper of pleasure dances up my spine is a softer echo of the ones Knox has been making this whole time.
Of the sound he’s making now.
Spurred on by his noises, I continue to grind. My breathing hitches. Knox’s lap grows wet with my arousal as it drips around him. With so much natural lubrication, my hips slide unhindered and smooth. It feels good, I can’t deny that. But is it enough to get me off? I lay my body over Knox’s and press my ear to his heart. I can hear it galloping. Turning my head, I press a kiss to the middle of his chest.
“Don’t be mad at me Knox; I can’t resist,” I beg softly as I press my pelvis down harder against his erection, my breathing becoming ragged. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
He makes another sound. I can’t quite tell what this one means, but when I slow, it grows louder. Is it… a protest? An encouragement? I highly doubt it’s the latter, but then again, I’m not really in a great state of mind to distinguish between the two.
I sit up with a sigh. This is too far. As much as my body aches to finish what I’ve started, I know it’s wrong.
Just as I straighten, the door to the preparation room opens. My body tenses in surprise, then I grow even more rigid when Thatcher and Sagan stroll into the room. Thatcher looks murderous, his face pink with fury. Dark brows are pinched together, and the tendons in his neck have popped out. His heavy footsteps falter and his expression slackens, however, when his gaze slides over the scene before him. Sagan pauses just inside the room, behind his brother. The way his brows raise ever so slightly and his mouth twitches tells me I’ve surprised him. Both Hunts look from me to Knox and then they’re back to scrutinizing me once more.
“Want to tell me what you’re doing with Knox, Little Sister?” Thatcher asks in an eerily calm voice. “I seriously hope, for your sake, he’s not dead.”
An unexpected, explosive rage erupts in the middle of my chest. Its intensity is staggering and momentarily wipes the desire and jubilance from my system. My back stiffens and my face heats as I level both twins with a hard glare.
How dare they stroll in here and ruin things for me? These two can kill whoever the hell they want. It doesn’t matter to the Hunt twins if they’d be wrong by an individual or not. Knox buried me alive . He deserves whatever the hell I put him through—death or anything between. My expression must’ve given away my feelings because Thatcher’s eyes narrow on my face as he takes a menacing step forward.
“Beatrix, start talking. Now .”
Just as swiftly as it had come, my rage dissipates. It’s replaced by a twinge of fear and dash of amusement. They don’t last long either. As I take a deep, steadying breath and allow the heady feeling to wash back in, I realize that the mood swings are probably an effect of all this power I have. No wonder Thatcher, Sagan, and Knox act so superior to everyone else. When someone’s fate is in your hands, you’re practically a god.
“Knox isn’t dead,” I promise as my hand pats the chest beneath me lightly. “He’s just drugged up so that he can’t move. Knox, let them know you’re not a corpse, please.”
Knox huffs and then lets out a groan that sounds suspiciously like annoyance now. Thatcher comes up beside me to look down at Knox’s face.
“See?” I smile widely at the twins. “I wanted to punish him for burying me. He said I could, so I thought turning him into a doll that I could play with would be fair.”
Thatcher walks toward me slowly. His eyes drink in Knox’s body before latching onto the mess I’ve made in his boyfriend’s lap.
“Hm,” he hums, the sound deep and terrifyingly calm.
For some reason, my heart is beginning to creep up my throat as it hammers away. My palms are growing clammy. The one resting on Knox’s chest can feel his erratic heartbeats that match mine. Are the twins upset? Is Knox mad? Did I go too far? Nerves are beginning to make me second guess everything and the heady feeling I’ve been coasting on isn’t helping me as I try to read the room. Thatcher and Sagan have schooled a look of mild interest as they study the two of us. Knox, unable to move his face, looks dead-ish. Only his eyes flutter. As I try to swallow my heart back down, I move to climb off Knox.
Thatcher catches my leg, holding me in place with a biting grip. The smile he shoots me has sharp edges, and there’s a dark glitter in his eyes.
“Where are you going, Little Sister?” he asks. “Don’t let me interrupt you while you play with your toy.”
“While this is—” Sagan winces, “— cute , Little Viper, you’re going about your punishment all wrong.” He draws closer. His rusty chuckle comes after a close inspection of Knox’s face. “You’d be impressed by her work, Knox. For a dead guy, you look mighty fuckable.”
A rattling noise vibrates under me as Knox laughs… At least, I think it’s a laugh.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say the word cute,” Thatcher mutters, sounding playfully disgusted.
Again a sound rattles around in Knox’s chest. I’m glad he can find amusement in the moment. Me? I’m a little confused.
I frown. “What do you mean? He’s drugged and incapacitated. How much worse could it get?”
Both twins laugh as if I’ve just told the world’s funniest joke. The sound from Sagan startles me. I don’t think I’ve heard him express this much emotion ever .
“This might as well have been a bonding moment between you two. Watching some chick flick, painting each other’s nails, and wearing face masks might’ve been just as effective,” Thatcher explains with a laugh of his own. “Knox is probably loving this.”
Sagan nods in agreement though his amusement fades away. “Minus the touching part.”
My gaze drops to Knox’s face and our eyes meet. His glazed-over blue ones don’t quite focus on me, but it looks like he’s trying to convey something. Whatever it is I’m supposed to be taking from this look is lost, though.
Swallowing, I sigh. “Well, I didn't want him to actually suffer like I did.”
“Why not?” Sagan asks with a shrug. “The rules for punishment are simple: just don’t kill anyone and he certainly took things too far.”
I grimace. That leaves the door to whatever nightmare torture sessions they want to enact in the future if I mess up wide open. I’m not too sure I like the lack of boundaries punishments come with. If either twin notices my reaction, neither speak on it.
“Do you need your big brothers to teach you how to really play with your toys?” Thatcher asks, letting go of my leg to reach up to begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Because Sagan and I are more than happy to show you how to play.”
Sagan comes to stand by Knox’s head. He reaches down, lifts a hand, and runs his fingers through the blond strands. It’s an unusually sweet gesture, ruined when he grabs a handful of hair by the roots and jerks Knox’s head back so that his boyfriend can see him. Beneath me, Knox grunts.
“That color on your lips would look even better smeared all over my cock, Knox,” he taunts softly. “Want me to prove it to you?”
“Take your dress off, Little Sister,” Thatcher orders. “Let Knox see what’s been hovering over him the whole time you played.”
I hesitate. Given that I was just grinding against Knox’s erection after justifying the action with myself, this should be ok. Knox knows the rules about punishments, and this is clearly within the ‘don’t kill anyone’ boundary set up. Still…
How many times had I been taken advantage of by Patrick like this? Drugged and unable to do anything except be forced to feel everything. At least Knox doesn’t have to lay here wondering about an accidental pregnancy like I used to. The minute I realized Patrick wouldn’t stop coming after me, I’d gotten an IUD. It was a small change, but at least it brought a semblance of comfort in my darkest hours. As I think about that, my hesitation fades away. It’s kind of bullshit really. Not only does Knox not have to fret about pregnancy, but he also has Molly in his system—a much more fun drug than what I got. His situation now is significantly better than any of mine ever were… right?
Looking down at Knox, I find his eyes straining to stay locked onto my face even with Sagan tilting his head back. To my surprise, his jaw ticks and lips part as if he’s trying to talk. The drugs must be wearing off.
Thatcher snatches my wrist, pulling my hand off Knox’s chest. I look over at the twin. His eyes harden ever so slightly.
“Dress. Off. Little Sister,” he growls, enunciating each word through clenched teeth. “You want to punish him? Let’s show Knox how good you feel and let him suffer in the knowledge he can’t properly enjoy the experience.”
A shiver of excitement rushes through me. Fuck it, why can’t I be greedy for once? This moment, this punishment , is mine and I’ll do what I want. Right now, my body is back to burning with the desire to be filled by that pierced dick jutting out in front of me. I’m not going to deny it anymore.
“Will you help me?” I ask Thatcher.
He smiles then. It’s fierce, nearly feral, giving him a menacing look. I’m both scared and enamored by it—which seems to be a theme when it comes with my feelings revolving around Thatcher.
“Of course I’ll help you take off your dress, Little Sister,” he murmurs. Reaching up, he pulls the zipper the rest of the way down then helps me pull it up over my head.
My bra falls to the floor next. I’m aware of Sagan’s and Thatcher’s gazes as my nipples pucker. I could blame the cool air, but it would be a lie. I hold Knox's glossy gaze as I bend over him. His whole chest rumbles as I get on all fours. My breasts dangle just under his chin and his lips move again.
“Oh, Little Sister,” Thatcher groans beside me. His hand comes up to cup my mound. I flinch at his unexpected touch. I melt into it though as the heat and possessiveness overpower my surprise. “You’re dripping into the palm of my hand. Here, Knox, let me show you what you do to my sister.”
His hand comes away, and suddenly Knox lets out a vicious, desperate sounding snarl, the corner of his upper lip curling upward to let the sound free.
“Feel how warm and delicious her pussy could be?” Thatcher taunts.
I look down between my legs and find Thatcher sliding his hand up and down Knox’s erection, my arousal glistening as his hand moves.
“Sit up, Little Viper,” Sagan snaps suddenly. I look up to find him staring at my face, his own etched with tight lines. “You can’t pull your tits out and not expect either our hands or our cum all over them.”
Giggling, I do as I’m told.
“Knox, do you see those tits?” Sagan asks, jerking Knox’s head up off the table to look at them properly. “They’re fucking magical.”
Knox manages to growl something but it's incoherent.
“My sentiments exactly,” Sagan says as if he understood the gibberish. He pulls his hand away to let Knox’s head drop. It hits the table with a thud, and Knox lets out a disgruntled huff.
Thatcher moves, climbing up onto the table with me. He straddles Knox’s legs behind me then leans forward to grab my left breast with a biting grip. I gasp as he starts to knead me.
“Oh, Little Sister, I see what’s wrong and why you’re not having the time of your life with your very fine looking doll,” Thatcher murmurs, his breath trailing down my neck. “It’s because you’re not playing with all its best features.”
His other hand lands on my hip but it doesn’t stay there. It slides forward and dips between my legs.
“Yes!” I moan, throwing my head back as his fingers circle my swollen, throbbing clit then slide through my wet slit. My entire body shivers hard. Thatcher teases me like this a little longer before his hand moves again. My eyes roll into the back of my head as his fingers dip into my pussy. The wet, sloshing noise his fingers make as they enter me should be embarrassing but I can’t find it in me to care who hears how turned on I am. My hips jerk under his touch, and I whimper as his thumb continues to caress my clit.
“Oh, Sagan, brother, you should feel how hot and slick our sister is,” Thatcher groans. His bare chest presses up against mine. When did he lose his shirt? “This is what it must feel like to dip your fingers into Pandora’s Box.”
Through a heavy-lidded gaze, I stare at Sagan. His mouth presses into a hard line as his eyes lazily drag over my body. He looks completely unaffected, but I know better. I’m beginning to know the twins well enough to tell when they’re not quite as indifferent as they appear. For one, his chest isn’t moving at all. Then there are the veins in his hands he slowly curls into loose fists. They bulge beneath his skin as he forces himself to hold still.
Thatcher's fingers massage my inner walls. I lean back into him, groaning as a heavy tremor rushes through me.
“Knox, how have you had this hot, starving pussy above you this whole time and you just laid there doing nothing?” Thatcher rasps as his hips press against my butt. I can feel the hard length of him through his pants as it rests between us. “Oh wait, that’s right, you can’t do anything,”
Both twins laugh darkly at that and I can’t help but giggle with them.
“Let me help the both of you,” Thatcher offers. “Because clearly neither of you know how to play together yet.”
When his hand slips out of my body, I whine, “Thatcher!”
He chuckles. “Hold your horses, Little Sister, I’ll have you cumming in no time.”
Both of his hands land back on my hips. Using them, he guides me over Knox and then pulls me down. I fight the downward tug for a second. Knox might be upset about this later… But damn it, I do want some relief now. The tension coiled between my legs, the heavy desperation that seizes my lungs making it hard to breathe, they take precedence.
Forget anyone else—this moment is all mine.
I allow Thatcher to guide me down the rest of the way. I’m not even sure if he noticed my hesitation but if my stepbrother does, he says nothing. The strange piercings that line Knox’s bulbous head shift and roll along my insides. I cry out. The gems give his dick more girth, making the stretch all the more intense as Thatcher pulls me down onto him. But the sting shifts to an intense and delicious massaging as they roll and apply additional pressure against the walls of my pussy. Thatcher doesn't allow me to get used to the feeling. He continues to drag my body down on top of his boyfriend until I’m fully seated. My pussy clutches Knox’s dick like it’s a lifeline. Unable to stop myself, I grind back and forth, desperate for more.
Knox’s hips jerk. It’s just a slight movement, but I notice because he goes just a little deeper inside me. In unison, we both moan. His is much louder than all the others he’s let out before and his eyelids flutter. The tendons in his neck pop out and his face flushes red.
“What are you doing?” Sagan snaps, stepping closer to Knox’s head as he glares at me.
I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. “What does it look like? I’m playing with my toy.”
Sagan glares at me a moment longer, then tilts his head to the side to look behind me. “Thatcher, are you going to let her play with this exquisite doll in such a sloppy manner?”
“Of course not,” Thatcher assures him. “Our little sister decided to go rogue, and I couldn’t help but pause to admire how much of her juices are dripping down around Knox’s balls. Pretty Boy, you’ve had a staunch admirer this whole time. Think of how much fun you could’ve had with our sister if you hadn’t had your head so far up your ass.”
“Well, by all means, continue staring, brother,” Sagan says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t realize this was your moment. I was under the impression we were here to help show my Little Viper how to play.”
Thatcher’s hands, still resting on my hips, force me to stop grinding.
“Thatcher!” I know I sound like a petulant child and it doesn’t help my cause as I wiggle my hips, trying to break free of his grasp. Knox’s dick massages my insides as I move, and we both groan again.
“Hush,” Thatcher orders with a growl into my ear.
He reaches up and cuffs the back of my neck. With a little pressure, he forces me to bend forward to lay on top of Knox, who watches me with rapt attention. I brace my hands on the table on either side of Knox’s head. His eyes are a little less glossy now and the blue is nearly gone now that his pupils are blown wide. Without thinking about it, I lean forward and kiss Knox’s chin.
His face twitches.
Before I can analyze if it’s to pull away, there’s pressure at the entrance of my pussy. It takes less than a nanosecond to realize what’s happening. We’ve done this before—I don’t know if I can do it again.
“Thatcher!” I shriek, trying to sit up, but his hand applies more pressure to keep me down. “Thatcher, no! I can’t!”
“How else am I supposed to show you how to play with your toy, Little Sister, if I don’t use your body like a puppet? Besides, you're such a good girl, Beatrix. I know you’ll handle this and I know how much you want to please me,” Thatcher murmurs.
He surges forward harder, not relenting as I scream into Knox’s neck. My body fights Thatcher on this. As fiercely turned on as I am, I can’t do this again. There’s just so much stretching . I try to jerk my hips away from him, to stop the burning as the pressure mounts, but Thatcher drags me back by the hips.
“Come on, Little Sister, you’re doing so well. Don’t run from me now, we haven’t gotten to the good part yet,” he coos. I stop trying to fight this, knowing that it's only making this worse. “Good girl, Beatrix. Now relax and let your brother fuck your pussy while you cum all over my boyfriend’s dick.”
I don’t understand the mechanics of how it’s possible to have two men inside me. It’s happened before and here it is, happening again, yet I still don’t have an answer. But as I breathe and allow Thatcher to sink inside me, I start to enjoy it. The burn and sting shifts to an intense, bone-deep pleasure that touches my soul and causes tension to coil in my gut. My choked groan is hidden in the crook of Knox’s neck. He mimics the noise.
“There you go; that’s right, Little Sister. You’re doing so well,” Thatcher coos as he continues to sink deeper into my body. His praise earns him a few more inches as my body warms and gushes around him and Knox. Thatcher lets out a strained laugh. “Your pussy loves my cock, doesn’t it? It's always so welcoming. You’re always just so fucking wet—” He chokes off, stopping half inside me. “ Fuck , Knox, your cock is taking up all the space. You damn cunt-hog. You’re lucky I love your cock as much as I love this cunt.”
Knox’s body trembles beneath me, and his mouth pulls into a loose smile. Even with a little drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, he’s pretty. Its unfair beauty comes so easily to him. His smile disappears as Thatcher grips the back of my neck forcefully and gives one hard, long thrust to bottom out. Knox cries out, the loudest of the noises he’s made yet. My scream overpowers it though. The sound starts off as pained as I’m ripped into two, but morphs into one of extreme euphoria as I feel so gloriously full. I can’t breathe. As my pussy flutters and gushes around the two dicks inside me, I realize maybe breathing isn’t important.
My butt tries to arch upward but I can’t move without intense stretching. All my body can do is squeeze and pulsate around Thatcher and Knox’s dicks while I breathe in short pants. I move my hands to rest on Knox’s chest as Thatcher pulls out, dragging me back with him. Knox sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes widen, as if I’ve shocked him. They roll as he lets out a deep groan. When Thatcher thrusts back inside of me, my nails dig into Knox’s skin. The heavy shudder that rushes through Knox doesn’t go unnoticed. I whimper desperately as my body squeezes both men. Above us there’s movement. I lift my head, breathing heavily as I do, to find Sagan pulling out his hard dick. He fists it as he looks at me.
“Next time, we’ll work all three of our cocks into you, Little Viper,” Sagan promises. “You look so fucking good stuffed. Maybe we’ll get your stomach to swell with our cum too. Let’s see how much someone needs to live off.”
“I’ll die,” I gasp as Thatcher drags his cock out and then buries it in my pussy once more. My body is shoved forward and Knox’s piercings roll against my inner walls. Knox and I make a similar noise.
“Do you think your death would stop me from fucking you?” Sagan asks, his tone almost incredulous. “I’ll fuck your corpse for as long as it holds its form. Your pussy coiled around my cock is how it will always be, Little Viper.”
The thought is sick. What is wrong with him? And what’s wrong with me ? Clearly something because my pussy bears down harder on Thatcher and Knox. I can feel my body leaking freely, and as Thatcher thrusts back and forth, the movement becomes slicker. The latter groans loudly. Knox’s head dips back as he tries to push his hips upward, off the table to drive in deeper. It’s a weak attempt, but I find myself pleased that he’s getting something from this.
“Help Knox move to the edge of the table, brother,” Sagan orders.
I know what that means. Before I can brace myself, Thatcher pulls out and slams into me hard. Both Knox and I are pushed a few inches forward. I scream at the intensity. It’s too much. I can’t take it. But despite my mental protest, my body coils tighter than ever. I can feel the edges of an orgasm tingling around my consciousness. How is this physically possible? I ache in ways I didn’t even know existed. I shouldn’t be feeling pleasure like this. But I am. Oh god… I am . My lips skim over Knox’s chest as I feel both overly stretched and not full enough. Another impossibility.
Thatcher repeats the motion, harder this time, and then does it again. He picks up the speed, laughing as I cry out as the fringes of the impending orgasm creep closer.
“See, Little Sister, this is how you play with your doll. You use him to stuff your pretty little cunt and force him to make you cum,” Thatcher says from behind me.
Sagan takes advantage as Knox’s head dangles over the edge of the table. He pry’s Knox’s lips open and shoves his cock into his mouth. Knox chokes hard and his body twitches like he wants to fight it.
“Shut up, Knox,” Sagan orders as he starts to drill his dick down Knox’s throat. “Just choke on my dick like the pretty little doll you are and pray I cum before you pass out from lack of air.”
It’s all too much. Their words, Thatcher’s hard thrusting, and the sight of Knox choking combine to send me over the edge. The world dissolves and all I can do is feel. The rolling tidal wave of ecstasy that curls my toes, steals my breath, and causes my heart to seize crashes over me with a force that obliterates all common sense. It steals away every reason to live except to feel this again. My body convulses so hard that Thatcher is forced to stop; my body bearing down on him and Knox like a vise. I can feel my body gushing around the guys. I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to try. Thatcher snarls behind me, his grip on my neck tightening as he forces his dick to move, despite the way I’m clenching around him.
The pain and pleasure mix yet again. It only stirs up another unholy, impossibly intense orgasm. The pleasure reaches every part of my body. My nails continue to dig into Knox while the rest of me convulses and quivers uncontrollably.
I can’t stop cumming. Just when I think my orgasm is going to subside, another crests and takes me over. I lift my head, wailing as it all becomes too much. My eyes find Sagan’s and I cum all over again. He grins. The gesture is terrifying and breathtaking.
As I come down from this almost painful high, I go limp, collapsing onto Knox’s chest with my full weight.
Thatcher stills behind me as he cums loudly, his snarl so intense that I flinch despite how completely drained I feel. To my surprise, I can feel his and Knox’s cocks twitch inside me. Both men fill me but there’s no room for their cum. It all spills out of my body, onto the table and Knox.
Sagan is the last to find his release, but he’s not far behind us. Holding my gaze, he jerks his hips forward, sending his dick as far as he can down Knox’s throat and stilling as he finds his release. Knox’s body flinches and he sputters as he chokes down Sagan’s cum.
Thatcher’s hand strokes my sweaty back.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it, Little Sister? You know what to do next time?”
I nod, my cheek still on Knox’s chest. Sagan pulls his cock out of Knox’s mouth as I let out a contented sigh.
“I was never into dolls growing up,” Sagan says. “But I think I might’ve just hit the age where they’re now appropriate. I want to play with your doll, Little Viper, a lot.”
“You had that G.I Joe action figure,” Thatcher objects.
“How long did it last?”
Thatcher hums thoughtfully before he replies, “Two weeks?”
“Try two days.”
“Well, let’s make sure this doll lasts longer than that, ok?” Thatcher sighs. “I like our sister’s doll.”
Sagan flashes a cold smile to this brother. “You and me both.”
With a sigh, I close my eyes and listen to Knox’s heartbeat rapidly in his chest. “You hear that, Knox? You’re everyone’s favorite doll. Our Pretty Doll.”
Thatcher pulls out of me. My weak cry of pain is muffled as I bury my face into Knox’s chest. With a deep breath, I lift my hips and allow Knox’s softening cock to slide out of me. Without the presence of another, this doesn’t hurt nearly as badly.
“Aren’t you going to ask how the funeral went? The pastor missed you today,” Thatcher asks casually as he climbs down off the table.
The contentment weakening my limbs vanishes. A cold chill slithers its way down my spine, causing it to stiffen. It’s followed by shame. A grimace crumples my facial features before I can catch it, and I know Thatcher notices as his gaze swings to my face as he waits for a response.
What did he and Sagan hear? I’m sure the people who showed up to pay their respects weren’t kind or quiet when it came to the rumors that were inevitably floating around about me and Trevor. What did Pastor Michaels say to his parishioners? Maybe I should’ve warned them that people would be talking. Then again, it doesn’t have anything to do with them. Why would they care? They know the truth. Trevor practically admitted it before they killed him. What more is there to say? This is what life is like in a small town.
At least it is for me.
“I’m sure it was a lovely service,” I mutter, turning my face away. “Pastor Michaels is my friend; I probably should’ve been there for him, but I appreciate you going in my place.”
Please don’t tell me about what you heard , I pray silently. I’m sure Thatcher and Sagan have heard their fair share. I have a strong feeling, given how much I’ve come to enjoy the twins’ presence, that hearing what the people of Chasm say about me from them, would hurt more than usual.
There’s the shortest pause as the twins move toward the door.
“Of course, Little Sister. Whatever you need, we’ll provide,” Thatcher says his voice lacking any infliction. “Have fun with your doll.”
Neither one of them says anything else as they leave the room, and when they’re gone, I let out a relieved sigh.