17
The pizza was good, but those assholes didn’t let me stop moving until the laundry was done and the house was clean. Every muscle in my body hurt when I went to bed, but I was so tired I could’ve fallen asleep standing up.
At least I know I didn’t have an episode last night. Whether I like it or not, I’ve never been this sexually sated. Even the few flickers of arousal I felt when their eyes locked on my naked body dimmed quickly. There’s no way I wanted sex last night.
Still, there’s a little bit of doubt in the back of my mind as I get up out of bed. I don’t feel cum dripping down my thighs and I don’t think I have any new bruises, so I think I’m safe — but at some point, one of them cuffed me again.
So much for that break they promised me.
Bracing myself for another long fucking day, I make my way out to the kitchen and get their stupid peppermint mochas ready.
“Morning,” Manson chimes first, and I realize it’s just him on the couch this morning. He’s watching the news for some reason, and his eyes are glued to the screen. “How’d you sleep?”
They usually only ask that as a way to fuck with me after an episode, so it almost feels genuine this time. “Like a rock, honestly. You?”
“That’s good. I slept alright, but you and Ash slept better than me. He’s still out.”
He smirks slightly to himself, but I don’t think I want to ask why. Maybe Manson took the bullet for me and fucked him to sleep, or maybe he put something in his drink like he did the first night they took me. Either way, I’m glad I have a few minutes before I have to deal with Ash.
Carefully, I take Manson his coffee and sit a couple of feet away from him. “It was nice not having an episode.”
“Mmhmm.” He taps the couch next to him. “Come sit over here.”
I know better than to argue, so I scoot the rest of the way and focus on the tv. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I just mean I’m never really very rested after one, so it was nice to get some real sleep for once.”
“Yeah, I knew what you meant.” Reaching over, he places his hand on my thigh far too close to my center. “Where’s your coffee?”
In the pot where it’s going to stay. I’m determined to have another night without an episode, which means steering clear of anything that might cause me stress. As much as I love coffee, that counts too. “I don’t want any.”
Manson watches me for a second before taking a sip of his own. “Why not? There’s enough for all three of us.”
“Oh, I know,” I say simply, but the suspicious look on his face doesn’t go away. I won’t be able to skirt around this. “Coffee makes me jittery sometimes. I don’t want to do anything today that’ll cause me additional stress or anxiety, because I’d really love another night without an episode.”
Understanding takes over his expression. “Ah, got it. Well you won’t be going to sleep for plenty of hours. May as well enjoy some in the morning.”
He squeezes my leg to encourage me to get up, and the tone tells me I may not have a choice. The remote is sitting right next to him.
A little reluctantly, I get up and pour myself half a cup and return to the couch, annoyed with his dumb smile and the way he grips my thigh again.
“Good girl. It’s good, right? You’ve been using the good creamer?”
“I don’t use creamer, I prefer it black unless it’s really shitty coffee.”
“Missing out,” he replies teasingly just as Asher groggily stumbles out of his room with his hair a mess.
“Are we late? What time is it?”
His words mumble together, making Manson laugh at him. “You have a clock in your room. Do you even know what year it is?”
“Fuck off,” he groans. “I need coffee.”
Once again, I push myself off the couch, this time to serve Asher before he goes ballistic on me. I get the coffee in his hands without making eye contact, then look around for something to clean. Something tells me my brother won’t be as forgiving of me just sitting around as Manson is.
“Our girl was trying to avoid coffee,” Manson snitches. “She’s worried it’ll make her have an episode later.”
Aside from a grunt into his mug, Ash doesn’t respond. I can feel his eyes on me though. “You didn’t finish your cup. Come sit with us.”
I have to do a double take to make sure I heard Ash correctly, and see if it was his voice I actually heard. He’s never told me to relax, yet the more I think about it, I know the real reason he’s telling me to drink more coffee.
While he was too tired and spent to do anything last night even if I had an episode, tonight will be different. He’ll see my avoidance as a sign of disobedience.
Looks like I’ll have to be sneakier about it.
With a fake smile, I join them on the couch and take a sip of my coffee to show them I’m playing along. Manson relaxes, but Asher eyes me skeptically over the rim of his mug. “After coffee, what’s for breakfast?”
“Scrambled eggs with ham, cheese, and bell peppers. I can make bacon or sausage as well, and I think we still have bread left for toast,” I say flatly. “I could also do pancakes instead.”
“No, that scramble sounds great. You gonna spit in it?”
I’m surprised he’s smiling over at me with the question he just asked, but he’s the only one joking.
I’d been planning on it.
“I wouldn’t waste the saliva.”
That makes them both laugh. Annoying.
“Yeah, save it for our cocks.”
Smiling slightly, I eye the bulge in Asher’s sweats. Maybe they’re just too stupid to realize that fucking all day will actually help me here, not hurt me. “Before or after breakfast? Both?”
“Definitely both,” Manson says, his gaze locked on Asher’s rapidly hardening cock like mine. “Go on. Give Ash a proper good morning.”
“And no touching yourself yet.”
Fuckers. Oh well, I can get myself wound up now and take care of it in the shower if I have to. They won’t get me.
Setting my mug down, I drop to my knees and run my hands up his thighs. “Are you sure you want to come in my mouth, Ash? You never evened it out, you know.”
Jackpot.
The frown that takes over his face tells me exactly how much that reminder pisses him off, but he shakes it away and nods down at his cock. “Take it out,” he commands, so growly and commanding I actually think I might enjoy this. Licking my lips, I tug his sweats down and wrap both my hands around his cock, licking the tip.
It makes him hiss and his hips cant up of their own accord. “More.”
His fists are so tight next to him I know he’s fighting the urge to slam my mouth down on it, so I deliberately only take about two inches into my mouth. The rougher he is, the less likely I’ll need more tonight.
So do it, big brother. Be mad at me. Hate me. Show me.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his hand finding the back of my head to shove me down more. “I said more, little tease.”
My clit throbs as I choke, struggling to take it. He’s normally pretty big, but he’s as hard as a rock this morning — it’s unyielding as it slips toward the back of my throat.
“Good pet,” he praises, his fingers slotting through my hair and squeezing. “Gonna need some dye, Manson. We have to keep this hair pink.”
That one stuns me a little bit, but Manson hums his approval as he slides onto the floor and positions himself behind me. Asher’s grip makes sure I can’t turn my head to see what he’s doing, but I don’t have to — I feel his fingers ghosting over my panties a moment later.
“You’re right. I like the way it was faded when she got here, though. Can’t make it too pink, can we?” He reaches a little further, just putting pressure on my clit. “Wouldn’t want to forget how this all started.”
“Hell no,” Ash agrees, rolling deeper into my mouth. “Is she wet for me?”
He dips a little lower, slipping a single digit inside of me and pulling it out soaking wet. Fuck it, I don’t care if they know. I deserve to feel good too.
“Oh, she’s wet. Like she’s begging for it.”
I feel him lean over me and hear the sound of Asher sucking his finger clean, and the way it makes his cock throb in my mouth floors me.
“Give me some more,” he growls almost desperately, making Manson chuckle.
“I told you she tasted amazing. Here.”
He does it again and again, and as Asher sucks my juices off his best friend’s fingers, I can taste that he’s leaking.
The moan he lets slip past his defenses has me dripping, but no matter how many times Manson takes more, it’s not enough to make me cum. It’s just enough to drive me crazy.
I can’t even pull off to beg for release. The grip Asher has on me is tighter than ever, completely sheathed in my throat.
As much as I hate this... it feels so fucking good to feel him coming apart. He’s not the same grouchy guy that walked out of his room not even a half of an hour ago, he’s someone completely new, someone desperate and whimpering because of what I’m doing to him, and as I feel him begin to reach the edge I start to worry he’s actually not going to fuck me.
At this point, all I need is maybe two minutes of direct stimulation and I’ll explode everywhere, but the bastard isn’t going to give it to me. Manson’s smacking my clit every few seconds, pinching my nipples, doing everything but giving me what I need.
I try to pull off, but he forces me back down and growls at me to take it, and when his cock jumps I know I won’t get what I need. “D-don’t swallow. Hold it in your fucking mouth. Fuck.”
Asher releases with a throaty grunt, tugging me back just far enough that his entire load ends up on my tongue instead of in my throat. It’s a struggle not to swallow on instinct.
Slowly, he pulls me off. “Let me see it. Show me.”
It’s a whole new struggle to keep it from spilling out the sides of my mouth as I open for him, but the pleased look on his face makes it worth it. “So hot,” he whispers to himself. “Feed it to him. Manson, you don’t swallow it either.”
Shit.
Carefully, I spin around to face my other captor and pull him into a messy kiss, pushing Asher’s cum onto his tongue. It’s so hot that I climb into his lap and try to grind against him, missing the next command that Ash gives, but Manson has me flat on my back in seconds as my step-brother moves in closer to pin my legs open. “Spit it into her pussy.”
Biting back a grin, Manson does as told, letting it drip down onto my soaked cunt, and before my next breath Asher begins fingering it into me painfully slowly.
Too fucking slowly to get off from it. “Come on,” I whimper, rocking down on his fingers. “You want me to fucking behave, then earn it. Make me want to.”
It’s the wrong thing to say and I know it, but it doesn’t register until the damage is done.
Asher immediately pulls his fingers out and stands up. “Had to ruin it with your fucking attitude. Fuck.”
He storms away as Manson slumps back onto his ass and tries to catch his breath. “Damn, girl. You okay?”
He presses down on his rock hard cock, giving me one last hope. “No, I’m as desperate as you are. Fuck me, Manson. Please.”
“Suck me first, baby. Come on, I’m so fucking hard.”
No guy would take a halfhearted blowjob over a soaking wet, desperate pussy he doesn’t have to wear a condom inside of.
He doesn’t intend to fuck me either.
Deflating, I’m forced to admit to myself that I don’t have a leg up on them like I thought. They know exactly what I want, exactly what I’m doing and why I’m doing it, and they’re not going to let me.
Then fine. They can fucking force me. “No.”
“Come on,” he encourages, reaching out to touch Asher’s cum as it drips out. “Don’t be like that.”
“Sorry, I have work to do.” Squirming away, I push myself back to my feet and head to the kitchen to wash my hands. I’m disappointed and annoyed, at myself and at them — yeah, I might’ve ruined it with my attitude, but they talk a big game about how this could be fun for all of us and how they like it when I’m willing. In reality, they don’t give a fuck either way as long as they get off.
With a heavy sigh I could give two fucks about, Manson gets off the living room floor and plops back on the couch to drink his cold coffee.
I feel Asher’s cum drip down my thighs and get angry all over again that I’m living in a house full of assholes and empty promises.
I get cleaned up and dressed, then make my way back to the kitchen to start cooking breakfast.
Something tells me I’m in for a long day.