Chapter 13
LILA
My body is still trembling from White Mask’s rough fucking, my ass stinging, my cunt throbbing and filled with his come—It’s a warm, claiming ache deep inside me.
Before I can even catch my breath, the air shifts, and the pressure on my throat disappears as Black Mask moves.
He steps around me, a silent predator circling his prey. White Mask pulls out of me with a wet, slick sound, and a fresh trickle of his cum runs down my thigh.
The sudden emptiness is a shock. Burlap Sack releases my wrists, and I slump against the rough wood of the shed, barely able to hold myself up.
Black Mask stops directly in front of me. The featureless void of his mask is more terrifying than any expression could be. He doesn’t speak. He just reaches out, his gloved fingers curling under my chin, forcing my head up.
My heart hammers, a frantic, terrified drum against my ribs.
“You’re a mess, Lila,” he says, his voice so quiet I have to strain to hear it. A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold races down my spine. “Covered in dirt and sweat… and him.”
His thumb drags across my bottom lip, smearing the spit and cum from my earlier blowjob. It’s a degrading, intimate thing that makes my cheeks burn.
“You let him use you first,” Black Mask continues, his tone flat.
“You let him claim this pretty pussy.” His other hand slides between my legs, two fingers pushing easily into my well-fucked hole, scooping out some of White Mask’s cum.
He holds his glistening fingers up to the dim light.
“You’re dripping with another man’s pleasure. That requires… correction.”
My breath catches.
Correction.
The word is cold. This isn’t the hot anger of White Mask or the brutal greed of Burlap Sack. This is something colder. More calculated.
“Open your mouth, Lila.” I hesitate for a fraction of a second, my lips trembling. “Now.”
I open my mouth.
He brings his cum-smeared fingers to my lips. “Lick them clean. Taste what you let him do to you.”
I obey, my tongue swiping over the rough leather of his glove. The taste is salty, musky, the essence of my own submission and White Mask’s dominance. I suck his fingers clean, my eyes locked on the blank darkness of his mask.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, but there’s no warmth in it. It’s an assessment. A note in his mental ledger.
Then he does it. He lifts his mask just enough to reveal his lips, and he leans forward… I think he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t.
He gathers a thick pool of saliva in his mouth and lets it fall from his lips directly into my open, waiting mouth. It’s warm and wet, a sudden, shocking violation that isn’t about pleasure.
It’s about ownership.
A mark of his contempt and his control. My stomach clenches, but I don’t dare spit it out. I swallow reflexively, the act itself a deeper form of submission than anything that’s happened yet.
“That’s my good little fuckhole,” he says, his voice dropping to a possessive whisper. “You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you? My spit. My cum. My cock. You have no say anymore. Your body is mine to rewrite.”
He grips my hips and spins me around, bending me over the same wall White Mask just fucked me against. My sore, sensitive ass is on full display for him. I hear the rasp of his zipper.
“Hold her,” he says, and White Mask’s hands are instantly on my wrists, pinning them to the wall. Burlap Sack moves in, his big hands spreading my ass cheeks apart, exposing me completely.
I’m utterly helpless, completely vulnerable to whatever Black Mask decides to do.
The head of his cock prods at my entrance, still slick and stretched from White Mask. He doesn’t shove inside. He just teases, circling my swollen lips, dragging his tip through the mix of their spend and my own arousal.
“This cunt is well-used,” he observes, his voice cold. “But it’s not mine yet.”
He thrusts forward, but not into my pussy. The broad head of his cock presses insistently against my other hole. My asshole. It’s never… no one has ever…
He pushes, a slow, inexorable inch. The stretch is blinding, a fiery claiming that steals the air from my lungs. I scream, a raw, ragged sound.
“Fuck, she’s tight,” he grunts, his controlled composure cracking for a second to reveal the raw hunger beneath. “Like a fucking fist. Squeezing me.”
He pulls back slightly, then pushes forward again, gaining another inch. The pain is still there, a sharp ring of fire, but underneath it… a deep, shocking fullness. A sense of being opened up and claimed in a way I never imagined.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his breath hot on my neck. “Take it. Take all of me. Your ass is mine now, Lila. This tight, virgin hole belongs to my cock.”
He finally buries himself to the hilt, his hips pressed flush against my burning flesh. He stays there, letting me feel the overwhelming fullness, the brutal stretch.
Then he moves.
His thrusts are nothing like White Mask’s. They’re not wild and pounding. They’re… precise. Calculated. Each stroke is a long, slow, deliberate drag out until just the tip remains, followed by a deep, penetrating push back in.
And my body is betraying me all over again.
The sharp pain is melting, transforming into a deep, aching pleasure that radiates out from my core with every thrust. The head of his cock brushes against something deep inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.
A guttural moan is ripped from my throat.
“You feel that, don’t you?” he whispers, his voice thick with a satisfaction that terrifies me. “Your body knows who it belongs to. It doesn’t matter what you think you want. This ass was made for my cock.”
His rhythm becomes punishing, each thrust hitting that breathtaking spot with unerring accuracy.
The pleasure is unbearable, a coil tightening low in my belly.
White Mask is still holding my wrists, and I can hear his ragged breathing, can feel his own arousal in his grip.
Burlap Sack is groaning, his thumbs rubbing circles on my sore ass as he watches Black Mask disappear inside me.
“I’m gonna come in this perfect ass, Lila,” Black Mask grunts, his thrusts becoming sharper, less controlled. “I’m gonna fill you up. Mark you on the inside where no one else can see. You’ll feel me in you for days.”
His words are the final push. The coil snaps, and my orgasm crashes over me with the force of a tidal wave.
My ass clenches around his invading length, milking him, and I scream, my voice breaking as convulsions wrack my entire body.
The feeling of me spasming around him drags a ragged shout from his throat. He slams into me one last time, grinding deep, and I feel the hot, pulsing rush of his release flooding my depths. He holds himself there, his body shuddering against mine, as he paints my insides with his cum.
He collapses over me, his weight pressing me into the wall. I can feel his heart hammering against my back. We are both panting, dripping with sweat, joined in the most intimate and degrading way possible.
He finally pulls out, and a shaky groan escapes me at the sudden, empty sensation.
I feel so open, so used.
Black Mask straightens up, tucking himself back into his jeans with a quiet click of his zipper. He places a hand on the small of my back, a strangely possessive gesture.
“Now,” he says, his voice once again a calm, controlled murmur, though I can hear the edge of satiated lust in it. “Shall we see how many times we can make you come before you break?”