Chapter 19
Heather
The number burned in my throat like acid. How could I tell him? How could I admit to my husband that I’d been passed around like a party favor by Chad and his college friends?
“I don’t remember exactly,” I lied desperately, my voice barely a whisper. “It was just… sometimes there were others.”
Ryan’s hand moved to grip my burning bottom, his fingers digging into the tender flesh he’d paddled so thoroughly. The pressure made me gasp, reminding me of my complete helplessness as his massive cock remained buried deep inside me.
“How many, Heather?” he repeated, his voice carrying that terrifying patience that meant he would wait all day for the truth. “Don’t make me spank you while my cock is in your ass.”
The threat sent a jolt of terror through me. The idea of being spanked while impaled on his enormous shaft was too overwhelming to contemplate. My body clenched involuntarily around him, and I heard him grunt softly at the sensation.
“Five,” I sobbed, the number torn from my throat like a confession at gunpoint. “Five different men over the year we were together. Chad would invite them over and… and…”
“And what?” Ryan’s voice was deadly quiet.
“And they would use me,” I whispered, my face burning with shame. “All of them. Sometimes together, sometimes one after another. Chad said I needed to learn to be available whenever a man wanted me.”
The silence that followed my confession was deafening. I could hear my own ragged breathing, the sound of Dr. Hamelin adjusting his glasses, Master Paul’s measured footsteps. But from Ryan, nothing.
“Did you enjoy it?” he asked finally, and there was something in his voice that made my blood freeze.
“No,” I said quickly, then stopped. Another lie, and we both knew it. My body had responded to those degrading encounters just as it was responding now. I’d climaxed for those strangers, had begged them to use me harder, had thanked them afterward like the well-trained whore Chad had made me into.
“Try again,” Ryan said, beginning to move inside me once more. The slow, deliberate thrusts made it impossible to think clearly.
“I… yes,” I gasped, my voice breaking completely. “Yes, sir. I enjoyed it. I came for them. I wanted them to think I was a good girl. I wanted to make Chad proud.”
“My wife,” Ryan said, his voice thick with something between anger, arousal, and… pride? “was a gangbang slut before she married me.”
The crude words brought new heat to my face, but underneath the humiliation was that treacherous heat building again. Hearing him say it, hearing him acknowledge what I really was and what I truly craved, sent electricity through my core despite my shame.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, because there was no point in denying it anymore. “I was. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for doing it, or sorry for lying about it?”
The question hung in the air between us, and I felt something crack inside my chest. Both, I said to myself.
Definitely both. I was sorry for both, wasn’t I?
That was what it had all been about: I’d felt ashamed of myself, after Chad had ghosted me.
I had found Ryan, and I had started over.
And so I’d lied to him—and I was definitely sorry about that.
But… doing it. Coming and coming with two hard cocks inside me… three hard cocks inside me and two more in my practiced hands… getting covered in semen at Chad’s lewd instructions to his friends.
God help me, I wasn’t truly sorry for that at all.
“Sorry for lying,” I whispered, the admission feeling like another piece of my soul being stripped away. “I’m sorry for lying to you about who I really am.”
Ryan’s thrusts became more deliberate, and I felt his cock pulse inside me as if my confession had aroused him further. The realization that my degrading past might actually excite him rather than disgust him sent a confusing wave of relief and shame through my body.
“Tell me about the first time,” he commanded, his voice rough with authority. “The first time Chad shared you with another man.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory, but his cock filling me so completely made it impossible to escape into my own mind. The physical sensations kept me anchored in the present even as he demanded I relive my most shameful moments.
“It was his roommate Jake,” I gasped, my voice barely audible. “Chad said I needed to learn to be accommodating to his friends. He told Jake he could use my mouth while Chad… while Chad took me from behind.”
“And you let them,” Ryan stated, not a question, but a fact that made my stomach clench with recognition.
“Yes, sir. I wanted to please Chad. I thought if I was good enough, if I did everything he asked, he would…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
“Would what, Heather?”
“Would love me the way I loved him,” I sobbed, the pathetic truth finally spilling out. “But he never did. I was just his toy to share with his friends. His little ass girl who would do anything to make him happy.”
Ryan’s hand moved to stroke my hair, a gesture so tender it seemed incongruous with the way he was claiming my body. “And now you’re my ass girl,” he said, his voice carrying a possessive satisfaction that sent shivers through me. “Mine to use, mine to share if I choose.”
The casual way he mentioned sharing me made my breath catch. The idea that Ryan might want to display me to other men, share me with them to prove his ownership the way Chad had, filled me with a mixture of terror and shameful arousal that I couldn’t begin to process.
“Would you… would you want to share me, sir?” I whispered, hardly believing I was asking such a question.
Ryan’s laugh was dark and knowing. “Look around you, ass girl. I already am.”
The realization of what he meant hit me like lightning. Master Paul and Dr. Hamelin weren’t just observers—they were participants. I was already being shared, displayed for their assessment while my husband claimed my body in the most degrading way possible. And Ryan clearly wanted even more.
“No,” I whispered, my voice breaking with fresh panic. “Ryan, please. Not with them. Not like this.”
But even as I protested, I felt my body respond to the idea with the involuntary need that just seemed to be a part of me. The thought of being used by multiple men again, of being the center of their attention and desire, sent shameful electricity through my core.
“Master Paul,” Ryan said, his voice carrying new authority as he continued his relentless rhythm inside me. “Dr. Hamelin. I think it’s time you helped me properly train my wife. She clearly needs more than one man to satisfy her.”
My blood turned to ice. “No,” I sobbed, pulling frantically at the restraints. “Please, sir, I can’t. Not again. I’m not that person anymore.”
“But you are,” Ryan said, his cock pulsing inside me as if the idea excited him. “You just told me how much you enjoyed being passed around by Chad’s friends. How you came for them, how you wanted to make them proud. Well, now you can make me proud.”
I heard footsteps approaching, and my heart hammered against my ribs as I realized both men were moving closer. Master Paul appeared in my peripheral vision, already removing his shirt.
“Are you certain about this, Ryan?” Master Paul asked, though his hands were already working at his belt. “Once we cross this line, there’s no going back. Your wife will know you may share her whenever you choose.”
“I’m certain,” Ryan replied without hesitation. “She needs to understand her place completely. And I need to see how she responds to being thoroughly used.”
Dr. Hamelin had moved to his tablet, his fingers working across the screen with clinical precision. “The biometric data supports this approach,” he said matter-of-factly. “Her arousal levels have spiked dramatically since you mentioned group sex. Her body is clearly prepared for multiple partners.”
The casual way they discussed using me made my face burn with shame, but I couldn’t deny what my traitor of a body was telling them. I was wet, desperate, my pussy clenching with each word as if begging to be filled.
“Please,” I whimpered one last time, but my protest sounded weak even to my own ears.
Ryan pulled out of my ass slowly, and I gasped at the sudden emptiness. But before I could process the loss, I felt his hands at the restraints, working to free me from the bench.
“Stand up,” he commanded as the leather cuffs fell away.
My legs were shaking so badly I could barely support my weight, but I managed to rise on unsteady feet.
The red lingerie I still wore felt like nothing, the thong remaining stretched around my knees, the lacy bra offering no protection from their hungry gazes.
Ryan’s massive cock glistened with evidence of where it had been, and I felt my face burn with the knowledge that these men could see exactly what he’d done to me.
“Turn around,” Ryan commanded, his voice carrying that new authority that made my knees weak. “Hands behind your back.”
I obeyed without thinking, my body moving of its own accord as I presented my back to him.
I felt him grasp my wrists, and then the familiar sensation of leather restraints being secured around them.
But these were different from the bench cuffs—lighter, designed to bind my hands behind me while leaving me mobile.
“Perfect,” Ryan murmured, testing the bonds. “Now you can’t interfere with what we’re going to do with you.”
The calm way he said it sent ice through my veins even as my body responded with shameful heat. I was completely helpless now, my hands secured uselessly behind my back while three men prepared to use me however they wanted.
Master Paul had finished undressing, his muscular body on full display as he approached.
His cock was already hard, and seeing it again brought back vivid memories of kneeling before him in my room.
Dr. Hamelin was removing his shirt with clinical precision, his lean swimmer’s build revealed as he folded each garment carefully.
“The key to effective group training,” Master Paul said to Ryan, “is coordination. We need to monitor her responses continuously to ensure she receives maximum benefit.”
Dr. Hamelin nodded, his tablet in hand. “The perineal sensor will guide us. Watch the screen—these spikes indicate arousal, and this pattern shows she’s approaching climax. We’ll use the data to control her pleasure precisely.”
I stared at them in horror as they discussed my body like a machine to be operated. The sensor they’d implanted without my knowledge was feeding them real-time information about my most intimate responses, giving them complete control over my pleasure.
“Fascinating,” Ryan said, studying the screen with obvious interest. “So we can bring her to the edge and hold her there?”
“Exactly,” Dr. Hamelin confirmed. “Prolonged arousal without release increases submission and breaks down psychological barriers. Watch—her levels are spiking just from hearing us discuss it.”
My face burned as I realized he was right. The clinical discussion of controlling my pleasure was making me desperately wet, my body betraying me even as my mind recoiled from what they planned.
“Please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I can’t do this again. I’m not strong enough.”
“You are,” Ryan said firmly, moving to stand before me. His hands cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. “This is who you are, Heather. This is what you need.”
Master Paul put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder to draw his attention. “There’s a special sink in the corner,” he said, gesturing toward a small alcove I hadn’t noticed before. “For washing after you’ve been in a trainee’s anus. I’d recommend using it before you enjoy your wife’s pussy—for safety.”
Ryan glanced down at his massive cock, still glistening from its use of my bottom, and nodded. “Of course. Thank you.”
My heart hammered as I watched my husband walk toward the sink, leaving me standing there in my restraints with Master Paul and Dr. Hamelin. The moment Ryan’s back was turned, Master Paul’s hand settled on my shoulder.
“Down,” he commanded simply. “On your knees.”
My legs gave out before I could even think to resist, and I found myself kneeling on the cold floor between the two men.
Dr. Hamelin had finished undressing, his lean body now fully revealed, his cock hard and ready.
Master Paul’s familiar shaft was at eye level, and I felt my mouth water involuntarily at the sight.
“Show us what a good cock worshipper you are,” Master Paul said, his voice taking on that instructional tone that made my stomach flutter. “Start with me, then move to Dr. Hamelin. Keep us both ready while your husband cleans himself.”
I opened my mouth obediently, taking Master Paul’s familiar length between my lips.
The taste of him flooded my senses as I worked my tongue along his shaft, remembering everything he’d taught me about pleasing a man properly.
Behind me, I could hear the water running as Ryan washed himself, but all my attention was focused on the cock filling my mouth.
“Excellent technique,” Dr. Hamelin observed clinically. “Her training is clearly well established.”
Master Paul’s hand tangled in my hair as I took him deeper, my throat relaxing to accommodate his size. “Very good, Heather. Now show the doctor what you can do.”
I moved to Dr. Hamelin, my bound hands useless behind my back as I took his smaller, but still impressive cock into my mouth.
He tasted different from Master Paul, cleaner somehow, more clinical.
I worked my tongue around his head while I instinctively tried to reach my right hand up to wrap it around Master Paul’s shaft, the way Chad would have told me I should—except I couldn’t, because my hands were bound.
Instead, I had to alternate between them, servicing one while the other waited.
“Fascinating,” Dr. Hamelin murmured, his fingers stroking my hair as I worked. “Her arousal levels are climbing just from this oral service. She genuinely enjoys pleasing multiple men.”
The water shut off behind me, and I heard Ryan’s footsteps approaching.
When I glanced back, I saw him watching me service the two men with an expression I couldn’t read.
His massive cock was clean now, jutting proudly from his body as he took in the sight of his wife kneeling between two strangers.
“Bring her to the kneeling bench over there,” he said, his voice thick with authority. “Put her over it. I’m going to pound that pussy.”