Chapter 32 #2
The table felt small beneath me now, as if all of me were concentrated into points of contact and penetration.
Gowry drove into my pussy again and again, and each time Porter’s cock slid farther along my tongue or struck the back of my throat if the movement lined up just so. I gagged once. Porter did not stop.
“That’s it,” he said roughly. “Take it.”
I did. God, I did. My cunt tightened around the man behind me as if it had forgotten every principle except service.
My mouth opened wider and tried to make itself soft for my sponsor’s penis.
Tears stung my eyes. The six cane stripes on my bottom burned each time Gowry’s lap met me.
Everything had become too much and not enough at once.
Then, suddenly, Porter withdrew.
The sudden emptiness of my mouth made me gasp. Gowry remained in my vagina, still giving me hard, claiming strokes from behind while Porter stood close enough that I could feel his attention on my wet lips and my flushed face.
He put one finger under my chin.
“Are you satisfied now?” he asked.
The question made me feel my own greed. It made me hear what I had asked for and what I was apparently about to ask for again. It made me confront the fact that this was not enough.
The hot blood traveled anew through my whole body. Gowry gave one more thrust into my pussy and held there, his hands gripping my hips hard, while I fought to speak.
“No, sir,” I whispered.
Porter’s eyes did not leave mine. “No?”
I shook my head once. My voice cracked. “Please… please, sir.”
“Use your words.”
That nearly undid me. I was atop a coffee table in a senator’s office with one man’s cock in my pussy and another man making me articulate the next obscenity I wanted.
“I want…” I had to stop and swallow. “I want one of you in my… my cunt… and the other in my ass.”
The silence after that seemed to roar.
Porter smiled very slightly. “I thought you might.”
What happened next felt dreamlike. Gowry withdrew, and the emptiness in my pussy made me clench around nothing with shameful protest. Porter moved me, guiding me down from the table with one hand at my waist and another at my arm.
My legs trembled so badly that I would have stumbled if he hadn’t controlled the transition.
He sat down on the couch behind me, spreading his thighs, and drew me with him until I understood.
I made a tiny desperate sound.
“Yes,” he said. “You asked for it. Come here.”
He positioned me over him, my back to his chest, my feet atop his trouser-covered knees.
I could feel his cock at my anus already, firm and very slick from my mouth.
One arm came around my waist, holding me firmly.
His other hand went between my legs, touching my pussy once, as if to make sure I was still wet.
The confirmation of it humiliated me anew.
Then he lowered me.
The firm pressure against the tiny hole made me gasp and go stiff.
He went slowly, as always. His arm held me inexorably as he guided me down by fractions onto his shaft.
The stretch opened in a ring of heat and discomfort and impossible intimacy.
My bottom, already trained by him, yielded more quickly than it had yet.
That realization itself shamed me so deeply that I moaned from the thought alone.
I felt him entering me, filling that little place, and all I could do was cling to his arm and let him seat me, settle me onto his hard manhood.
“There,” he murmured against my hair. “Take it.”
I took it. I sat trembling, impaled on my sponsor’s cock, my poor whipped ass stretched around him while Gowry came to stand in front of me.
My cunt clenched at the sight of him advancing between my spread knees and Porter’s. The senator put his right hand on my hip, looked directly into my face for one moment as if to be sure I understood my own disgrace, and then guided his penis into my pussy with his left.
The sensation nearly stopped my heart.
I cried out loud enough that the sound echoed in the corners of the office.
Porter held me steady while Gowry filled my cunt from the front and my sponsor’s cock occupied my anus from behind.
I had wanted it. I had begged for it. The reality still felt impossible, monstrous, glorious.
My body seemed too small to contain the stretch and fullness and pressure in both passages at once.
Gowry began to move first, slow enough that every inch registered. His cock worked in and out of my cunt while Porter kept me lowered on his own hardness, then began giving me small, controlled thrusts upward from beneath. The two motions met inside me and made my mind go white.
“Oh… oh, God…”
“Easy,” Porter said in my ear. “Take your cocks like a good little girl.”
My cocks. Good little girl. The phrases sent a shock through me so severe that I nearly sobbed.
Gowry’s grip on my hips tightened. “It’s a sweet little cunt,” he said, looking down where our bodies joined. “Much better trained than the last time I was in it.”
Porter gave a small sound behind me that might have been satisfaction. “Yes. She’s learned. And, like I said, this naughty bottom opens sweetly when she’s handled properly.”
I thought I might die of shame. Instead I clenched on both men at once.
Gowry noticed at once. “Oh, her cunt likes this,” he said. “Very much.”
“It does,” Porter said calmly. “You can feel what a little whore she is every time you fuck her, now.”
My body had become a place where their observations came true as soon as they were spoken. I felt every inch of Gowry’s cock in my pussy and every inexorable rise of Porter beneath me in my ass, and when I tightened around them again it seemed less like a choice than like a reflex of worship.
The room began to lose its edges.
I could still see Gowry’s hard face above me, the dark wood, the heavy leather, the gleam of the windows at the edge of my vision.
But those things had become less important than the unbearable fact of being filled.
The office had turned into a place… a site…
a worksite, almost… all for my disgrace.
The couch, Porter’s arm around my waist, Gowry’s hands at my hips, the six burning cane stripes on my bottom, the red lace bra still absurdly clinging to my breasts while both my lower holes were used by men discussing me in the third person as if I were a device or a pet—all of it had joined into one single overwhelming reality.
“Sir,” I gasped, and then again, more helplessly, “sir…”
Porter’s mouth brushed the shell of my ear without kissing it. “What is it?”
The composure in his voice, his calmness, nearly broke me. The way he could ask what is it while I sat spread over his thighs, fucked in the ass by my sponsor and in the cunt by a senator whose vote we had just bought with my body.
“I need…” The words tore and dissolved. Gowry thrust, and I lost the thread of speech entirely, crying out instead.
“Use words,” Porter said.
Gowry’s mouth curved a little. “She’s nearly gone.”
“I know,” Porter replied. “She gets this way.”
I shook in his hold. My vagina pulsed around Gowry’s cock. My ass fluttered around Porter’s. The sensation of that, of my own body signaling its impending collapse to both of them, sent a fresh wash of humiliation through me so violent that my eyes stung.
“Please let me come,” I whispered.
Neither of them stopped.
Gowry gave me a harder stroke, and Porter answered from beneath with one upward thrust that seemed to split me open along a line made of discomfort, authority, and unquenchable need. I sobbed aloud.
“Please, sir,” I said, louder now, frantic. “Please, may I come? Please…”
Porter’s right hand slid from my hip, his fingers moving inward and down, between my legs.
The first touch of his fingers on my clit, while he filled my ass and Gowry worked in and out of my pussy, made the narrow world of their bodies, enclosing mine, seem to flare with incandescent heat.
I cried out so sharply I hardly recognized the sound as mine.
My thighs tried to close, as if to make it stop, but there was nowhere for them to go.
Gowry held my knees open as he fucked, and Porter’s own legs kept mine spread.
I was trapped in exactly the right shape for pleasure—theirs, and through a dominant afterthought, mine.
“That’s how badly she wants it,” Gowry said, with a degrading satisfaction. “Feel her.”
“Oh, I do.”
Porter’s fingers circled once, twice, with devastating skill. I writhed against his arm.
“Please,” I said again, and now I was begging with no pride left at all. “Please, sir, please, may I… I need to… I need to…”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “You may come, you little ass whore.”
The crude words seemed to unleash something utterly animal inside me.
I came so hard that for one instant I truly felt as if I had ceased to exist as a physical body.
The orgasm hit not in one place but everywhere at once: my clit under Porter’s fingers, my cunt clenching around Gowry, my ass spasming around Porter, my belly, my thighs, my throat.
I threw my head back against Porter’s shoulder, cried out, and felt my whole body convulse between them.