11. Sable
SABLE
Hot sensation slides over my center as I float somewhere between waking and dreaming.
Time must have passed since earlier, but I have no clue how much.
Hands skate across my skin, touching and teasing everywhere they pass.
It takes me a long moment to register that more than one pair is running over me.
At least four hands grip my breasts, take squeezes of my ass, and massage me.
The touch is gentle, and it doesn’t initially concern me.
I used to have filthy dreams, didn’t I? This isn’t so unusual.
Low murmurs and sensual whispers turn into real words like “Offering” and “Sable,” and something inside me screams that this dream is not as innocent as I thought.
Constant access. A sharp, cruel laugh pierces through my consciousness, and my eyes snap open.
The room is entirely dark with the exception of the glowing symbols casting flecks of light around.
As creepy as the effect is, the symbols are the least of my problems right now.
Two of the doors stand open.
Panic grows when I can’t see beyond them.
A scream tries to escape, but it’s muffled, and my tongue caresses stiff fabric.
They’ve gagged me. Shit. My hands move next, but they twitch, meeting harsh straps.
My eyes strain as they search for where the intruders are standing.
How many of them are there? I can’t see anything but that glow. Two doors, four hands.
Fingers dig into my flesh, and I curse myself for falling asleep in the gown when it gave them easier access.
I love dresses of all kinds and never considered the dangers of sleeping in revealing soft silk.
I should have known; nothing good happens to me unless tragedy is about to follow.
Someone offering to pay for my education was far too good to be true without serious strings attached.
I’m free of my panties a moment later. Cold air kisses my sex, but I barely have time to shiver before a hand replaces the fabric.
I kick, but my foot barely swings before it slams back down against the bed. My legs are tied too.
“Fuck, I love how hard she fights.” And I swear I recognize the voice of the man from earlier. He may have been unbelievably hot, but he only had two hands. So who else is touching me? Fear hammers my heart, and my breath catches in my throat.
The rough pads of two fingers spread my labia, and I shriek into the gag as they skate directly over my clit.
A hot rush drenches me, and the fear only adds to the excitement.
It’s been so long since anyone touched me there, and fuck, didn’t I want him to earlier?
Cursing my body and how it responds to their touch, I search myself for some dignity, but find I’m drenched and panting for more.
Turn on the lights, I demand, but it comes out as a wordless shriek twisted by the fabric. I don’t know why looking at my attackers would make such a difference to me, but not knowing is making me insane.
Who are they? Is it the man from earlier?
That same hand dips down to my entrance, sliding one thick finger inside.
Complaints fly as he stretches me, and I know the hand must be attached to a giant.
My muffled shouts build, but when the second finger joins in, I nearly wail.
Before I can get too acclimated to that change in sensation, he focuses on my G-spot.
I lose my will to fight, and my body goes limp as a moan claws up my throat.
“How many times do you think we can make her come?” another voice asks, and I definitely don’t recognize this one. The dark and smoky timbre raises an all-new set of goose bumps.
“Suck her clit and let’s find out,” my friend from earlier answers. The more he talks, the more I’m certain. Too bad I still don’t know his name.
Another set of hands lands on my side as someone large bends over me and their mouth connects immediately with my pussy.
I’ve never felt anything like the overwhelming pressure, and at first, it’s too much, painful even, but as I relax into it, the sensation twists into the most absurd pleasure.
I have never come more than once from sex, and many times I never came at all.
The idea they could get me off multiple times sounded insane until this exact moment, but now I’m afraid they can.
My legs shake, and I’m suddenly glad for the restraints holding me in place.
Without them, I’d be jumping off the bed, and God knows how they might punish me for that.
My first orgasm builds much faster than I expect.
I wonder along with them how many they can get out of me.
Every inch of me shakes, and sweat coats my body.
One man’s tongue applies pressure, and the other massages my G-spot like he has his own map of my pussy.
I scream into the gag as my orgasm crests. I come so hard I pee down his hand, and mortification rushes through me.
“She squirted,” the man from earlier says, taking some of my humiliation and leaving the rest to shift forms. “Fuck, I need to taste her.” A moment later, another thick, hot tongue is on me, but this one slides inside, replacing his fingers on my G-spot.
I’ve never been licked from the inside out before. The filthiness of the position, the powerlessness of being tied up and helpless, plus the sheer pleasure of two tongues, have me building to another orgasm in no time.
“She’s greedy. We could do this all night,” the one I don’t recognize says, tongue leaving my clit long enough to pull a whine from the back of my throat that the fabric can’t muffle.
My second orgasm hits with an intensity I’ve never experienced, and the same wet sensation splashes all over the face of the man sticking his tongue deep inside me.
A long series of whines leaves the back of my throat as one of them slowly licks and cleans me up.
“Seems like she has something to say, Lex.”
Lex? Is that his name? I’ve never known how someone’s cum tasted and their tongue felt before their name, and for some sick reason, I like it.
A large hand unties the knot and removes the fabric around my head.
“What is it, Sable? You want us to stop?” Lex taunts.
“Fuck me, please.” The words tumble out.
“Fuck you?” he asks.
“Hard enough for me to forget where I am for a little while.” I bob my head and lick my lips.
Two orgasms and no cock have me feral, feeling more like an animal than a human woman, and maybe I’m insane enough to enjoy my cage if this is what happens inside it.
“Which one of us?” the unknown voice asks.
“Whoever has the bigger cock,” I answer without thinking, my raging desire making the decisions rather than my brain.
One of them laughs, and the other smacks me straight across the cheek, but it’s not hard enough to make me regret speaking.
“The bigger dick is going down your throat because you’re a mouthy little bitch,” Lex answers.
As if I’m going to complain. Take everything.
Undo me into something that is not Sable Briarwick.
But I don’t say anything else as there’s already a head pressed against my lips, a leaking line of precum that I lick away happily because who wouldn’t suck a cock gratefully after being eaten out like that?
The “smaller” cock nudges against my entrance, and I internally laugh that there isn’t any such thing in the room.
I moan as one of them slips deeper into my pussy, and as my throat opens, the other shoves inside, sealing off the sound.
Wet thrusts fill the air, and I’m nothing but sensation as they use me.
As the one fucks my throat deeper, I gag and choke.
Despite the fact I could puke, I don’t, repeatedly taking him so far inside that it feels like the two of them might bump cocks.
Somewhere close to that spot, a rational part of me screams that I’m taking two dicks, that I don’t know who they are, and then something louder reminds me how very much I’m loving it, how much more of this I want.
The weight clinging to my shoulders dissolves as the pleasure builds.
I’ve been depressed and miserable for so long that I forgot how good sex could feel.
Hell, I realize now that I never knew how good sex could feel.
Take me , I want to scream. Take me hard and help me forget.
This whole experience is far outside anything I ever wanted, but it’s beyond satisfying.
My pussy quakes, and I come around the “smaller” one, wringing him and pulling a hiss that doesn’t reveal who’s inside me.
Even though I’m loose from coming, he’s so large I’m still sore from being stretched to my limits.
I’m not sure how much more I can take. To my embarrassment, I’m three orgasms down and neither of them has come yet.
“Did you ever think Sable Briarwick would be our personal cum slut?” I think Lex asks.
“No, but coming down her throat is going to be the highlight of my week.” The man in my throat doesn’t grunt or groan the way I might like, but there’s one soft masculine sound of pleasure before he fulfills his promise and comes, working himself deep into me the whole time.
“That’s right, Sable, swallow. Suck until he’s all empty, and I’ll fill you up from this end.” A hand finds my clit, and he rubs it as he fucks. “Come on, Sable, be a good girl and come one more time for me.” I’m building toward it, but it’s too hard, painful, and out of reach.
“I’m going to count, and on three, you’re going to come.”
He’s delusional. I can’t come on command.
His fingers keep moving, his cock keeps thrusting, and that insulting voice drips, “One, two…” My orgasm starts at the base of my spine, and I curse myself to my bones for being a “good girl” for him right now. “Three,” he says, sealing my fate with one final orgasm.