Chapter 16 #2
Anvil looks surprised and then smiles slowly. “With me the good one?”
I nod.
He smirks for a moment. Then he grabs a bar with cuff restraints attached and drops it on the bed. He picks me up and sets me on it. I try to move away, but he grabs my ankles one at a time and secures them to either end of the bar.
“Wait!” I shriek as he drags my arm back, making me fall forward onto the bed.
Anvil secures my left wrist in a cuff that’s next to the left ankle.
He repeats the maneuver with my right wrist. My face and neck are on the bed, my butt’s up in the air, and there’s no way for me to take any other position.
I’m grateful that I’m wearing lace boy shorts and a tank top because it means that despite the position, I’m covered.
I’m sure I’m wild-eyed. I’m in a panic and can’t catch my breath.
Connor leans over me and strokes my hair. “You’re all right, Z. Take a deep breath.”
“Go, C. You don’t need to be here,” Trick says. “She’ll be fine.”
“Connor,” I rasp. “Let me out. Not like this. Please no.”
He touches my back. “Calm down, Z. You’re okay. Trick, you heard her. No restraints.”
“Hang on. Let me talk to her,” Trick says.
Connor moves one step to the side, but he doesn’t stop touching me. His hand in my hair lets me know he’s not abandoning me.
Trick’s voice is a whisper in my ear. “You nearly got yourself and C killed. You know what I had to do to protect you. It could’ve been avoided, and it could still come back on me. Take your medicine.”
“Not like this,” I say.
“That’s enough,” C says, pushing Trick away. “Forget it. I’ll do it myself.”
“Wait,” I whisper.
“We should do this. Zoe and I,” Trick says. “Right, Zoe?”
I rattle the restraints. “I’m scared.”
Trick drops to a knee, so our faces are close, our eyes locked.
“I’ll take the restraints off, but we need to get something straight.
There’s no halfway in C Crue,” he whispers.
“If you’re one of us, then I’ll do anything for you.
And you’ll do anything for me. I proved myself to you. It’s your turn. Be a good girl.”
I squeeze my eyes closed.
“Zoe,” C whispers. “It’s all right. You don’t have to do this.”
“C,” Trick admonishes.
“It’s too much.” Connor’s voice is calm, and maybe it’s meant to soothe both me and Trick. “Uncuff her, ‘Vil.”
When I’m uncuffed, I scramble up, still trying to catch my breath. Connor pulls me into his arms, and I feel safe.
“I could do this, but not hooked to that.” I look at the restraints and then at Trick. “I could do it.”
“You ready now?” Trick asks.
I’m shaking so hard my teeth practically rattle. “Yes. But not chained to that.”
Anvil takes the bar away. “It’s overkill anyway. There’s no escape unless we allow it. Figging’s enough. No need for a steel spreader.”
“Then you’re in charge of holding her when she wiggles all over the bed,” Trick says.
“I will be in charge of that,” Anvil agrees. “I’m not fucking lazy.” Anvil hauls his shirt over his head.
I gasp. In the lit room, when Anvil flexes, he doesn’t even look human. Cyborg terminator, maybe.
“Back up, C. Let us do this,” Anvil says, pulling a blade from a pocket on the side of his cargo pants.
I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I force myself to be still. He grips the front of my tank and scores the fabric with the tip of the blade. Then he grabs the side of my shorts and cuts them. He slides the blade away and then with small jerks, rips the fabric. My clothes drop away.
Anvil takes a step back, looking me over. “Yeah. Beautiful.”
“Is everyone going to be naked?” I demand, holding my hand over my shaved pussy. I’m blushing what must be a shade of maroon.
“If the situation calls for it,” Trick says. “But only then.”
My mind races and my heart hammers wildly. Exactly what does that mean? Sex? I shudder, intrigued and terrified.
Trick goes into the bathroom and runs the piece of carved ginger under water. Anvil sits on the bed, sets a couple of pillows on his lap, and gestures to them.
I swallow, close to hyperventilating, but move mechanically to him. My voice is unsteady, but I manage to meet his eyes. “I know how strong you are. You don’t have to prove it.”
“Agreed,” Anvil says.
I lie across his lap, so the pillows are under my belly.
“Forward. Pillows under your hips,” Anvil says.
I rise onto my elbows and knees, inching forward, and then lower myself. My ass is now the highest point and I’m sure my pussy is peeking out from between my legs.
“Good,” Trick says. “Open her.”
Strong fingers grip each ass cheek and pull them apart, making my crease yawn, exposing me completely. I can’t help it; a ragged sound of indignation escapes.
I feel the ginger probe my little asshole. “Hang on,” I say, jerking forward.
Anvil’s big paw slaps my ass. “Be good.”
“I thought—hey, don’t!” I say, fighting as he pulls my clenched cheeks open.
His strength pins my hips down onto his lap to trap me in place. I thought they might tease me with the ginger by slipping it in and out of my pussy. I didn’t realize they planned to insert it in my anus. I’m not mentally prepared to be plugged there in front of three men.
“If she was restrained, this would already be in,” Trick says mildly.
Anvil leans forward. “Do you need to go back into restraints?”
“No,” I say, while reaching back to cover my ass with a hand. “Just don’t put it there.”
“It’s where it goes,” Trick says.
“Zoe,” C says firmly. “Behave yourself.”
“But, C—”
“No,” he orders. “Cooperate, or we’re done.”
I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut.
“A long punishment fuck in that hole would work too, C,” Trick says. “If you’d rather, go for it.”
My belly clenches, and I shake my head. “No. I can do the ginger.”
“Good girl,” Trick says.
I will my limbs to relax, but it’s not easy. Trick rubs my low back with one hand while pressing the cold wet ginger against the rosette of my ass. Anvil holds my cheeks apart.
I’m so naked and exposed, letting them all look at and touch me, letting them do filthy things to me. And yet, I’m not really scared now. It’s more a feeling of spinning out of control, and of being on the verge of something. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want them to stop.
I let out a defeated sob as the steady pressure finally wins. I hang my head, my shoulders shaking, and I realize that’s the point. Being mastered, having my ass plugged with ginger, it’s a deeper chastisement than being spanked.
Then I start to feel a burning pain. “Ow!” I say, reaching back.
Anvil grabs my arms and pins them against my lower back.
“Oh, my God.” The more I move, the more intense the burning becomes.
“Watch yourself, ‘Vil,” Trick says.
“Go,” Anvil responds.
That’s when the spanking begins. The slaps aren’t very hard, but they jar me and make me clench, which causes flaming pain in my ring. I buck and scream.
Trick stops spanking and bends down. He catches my hair and uses it to turn my head, so I’m looking him in the eye.
“Take it out,” I gasp.
He shakes his head. “Not yet. And no screaming. If you need something to do with your mouth, C can put his cock in it for you to suck.”
Oh, my God. Trick’s pushing us toward group sex. The thought of being sandwiched between the three of them makes me lightheaded.
Another wave of burning hits me, and I twist and squirm and nearly buck off Anvil’s lap. He has to haul me back into position.
Trick slides his belt from its loops. “Come on, ‘Vil. Unless you’re going to spank her, toss her on the bed. I can’t work with you in my way.”
I’m afraid of letting Trick have too much control, so I wrap my arms around Anvil’s leg.
“Some fight is to be expected,” Anvil says calmly.
“It burns so much. Please take it out,” I say, kicking my legs and thrashing. I nearly end up on the floor.
Anvil rises and drops me on the bed.
I fight being restrained, but I’m overpowered and soon I’m on my knees with my shoulders on the mattress and my wrists tied behind me with a silk scarf.
The belt slaps cleanly against my flesh, and the end of the root presses into me, driving me to madness. The whipping continues, lines of fire rising in my ass as my ring burns unbearably.
Finally, my mind goes to a different place. It’s all I can do to drag the breath into my lungs. I break down, sobbing into the sheets. The belt stops thrashing my unprotected ass, but the throbbing burn continues.
I cry desperately, not caring anymore what any of them think. My whole body aches with pain and a secret terrible lust.
The ginger is taken gently from my cringing hole. The pain subsides, but I’m still incredibly aware of my exposed body, so vulnerable to everything.
“You move like you want something more, Zoe. Like sex,” C says. “Is that what you want?”
With my eyes closed, I nod.
“Just me, baby? Or more than me?” C asks.
My mouth goes dry. This moment will change everything.
I shrug, licking my lips.
C strokes my hair and kisses my cheek. “All right, baby. I’m going to decide for you. But if you want to stop, say the word.”
Cool gel is dripped onto my ring. I whimper a protest.
A vibrator’s hum fills the air just before it’s applied to my clit. The sexual stimulation changes things immediately.
I keep my eyes closed, unbearably embarrassed even as waves of arousal consume me. This dark and dirty punishment is part of being owned by Connor McCann and C Crue.
My traitorous hips begin to move, and my wrists are unrestrained.
Fingers push slowly into my ass, stretching me open.
“Oh, God,” I rasp.
“Be still,” Connor husks. “And keep your eyes closed.”
Something silky is tied around my eyes, and then the sensations all crash into each other. Fingers pinching my nipples, cupping my breasts, stroking my slit, delving into my pussy, buzzing my clit.
My words are incoherent as I’m pressed down onto a mound of pillows.
“Please,” I cry raggedly. “I need to come. Please.”
A cock drives into my punished ass, and I shake against the mattress, whimpering. The hard thrusts grind my clit against the vibrator and mattress.
I’m still crying when I come, pleasure and pain fused together, searing my mind into complete submission.
My body is splattered and filled with seed. They own me.
All of them. All of me.
My mind drifts, disengaged from anything but the connection I feel to these dark masters.
When I open my eyes after the sex marathon, only C and Trick are in the room. Apparently Anvil left after the punishment, which is probably a good thing.
I’m being cradled against Trick’s chest as he carries me upstairs. I’m not hurt, but maybe my legs would be too shaky to hold me. He carries me into the master bathroom.
“Here,” C says, standing naked in the milky water that’s filling the Jacuzzi tub.
Trick hands me to him, and I’m lowered into warm, silky water. Trick lowers himself to the marble and grabs a loofah sponge. He dips it and rubs it over my spine.
“Nah, not yet,” C says, pushing his hand away. Instead he pulls me onto his lap and cradles me tight against his chest, kissing my temple. “You’re all right. That was intense, huh? I’ve got you, beautiful.” He strokes my back. “You’re so fierce. I love that about you.”
Trick sits on the side of the tub with his calves in the water. My vision clears, and I look up at him. He’s naked, too.
“What are you doing?” I ask in a voice that’s slightly raspy.
“What I’m always doing. Hanging with my crue.”
Trick and I lock eyes for a moment, and understanding passes between us.
I’ve been with them, raw and unfiltered.
I’ve been held to the same standard as any of them, made to pay my own debts to the crue.
There are no secrets of any worth that I don’t know.
I’ve seen their wild sexual appetites, and I’ve seen them kill to protect their own.
“I need to wash my hair, but I’m so damned tired.”
“Here,” Trick says, waving me to him.
I move over to sit on the ledge between his knees. C leans back, watching us.
“You’re so pretty, Trick,” I muse. “I didn’t expect you to be the most ruthless one.”
“Everyone makes that mistake,” he says, massaging my scalp. It feels really, really good.
“What happened to make you this way?”
“A lot of things.” Trick’s thumbs massage my neck muscles. “How far back do you want me to go?”
“How far back can you remember?”
He chuckles. “On the day I was born, it snowed more than anyone could remember…”
I laugh.
“Kidding.” Trick drags the showerhead over and rinses my hair. Then he adds conditioner and rubs it into the strands.
I sigh. “I’ve changed my mind.”
“About what, Z?” Trick asks.
“Us.” I swallow. “We are going to be friends.”
He rests his hands on my shoulders, then gives them a squeeze. “Crue is more than friends. It’s more even than blood family. To the three of us, anyway.” He shrugs, then after a beat he corrects himself. “It was three of us. But with you, now it’s four.”