Chapter 15
She warmed the lube in her palms before reaching for their waiting cocks, and her hands moved with purpose and rhythm. Not too fast. Not too tight. Just right.
Boone shifted her up, and his thick fingers spread her open from behind.
No mercy.
The fat head of his cock forced its way in, stretching her with no warning, and then he drove deep in a single, punishing thrust. Pain flared white-hot, and her body bucked forward, but her hands didn’t falter. She bore down, forced herself to stay in it. To stay focused, to serve.
She adjusted her grip for her new angle, a little tighter, working the shaft of Kenny’s cock with practiced precision, angling to give more attention to the head the way he liked, twisting gently at the end of each stroke while keeping the rhythm steady.
No twists for Silas though. Straight up and down, firm and fast, just over the lip of the head and then slam back down to mimic the brutal way he fucked her.
Her ass throbbed, muscles spasming with each of Boone’s brutal thrusts, but she let her body do what it’d been trained to do. The ache blurred at the edges. Her hands moved on memory and pattern, on obedience.
Boone sped, Kenny’s cock twitched in her hand, and she gave it a squeeze before adjusting her pace to match Boone’s thrusts without breaking tempo.
And stayed steady with Silas. Up and down, faster over time, just over the head and back down hard, like he was slamming into her holes with brutal force.
Boone fucked her harder, jostling her more with every savage thrust. Her jaw was clenched tight, thighs burning from the angle, arms shaking with the effort of keeping steady strokes. Her triceps screamed, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
Every muscle ached from the repetitive movement, the relentless demand for precision, for pressure, for rhythm. Her hands moved like tools, like extensions of her will, stroking Kenny and Silas the way each preferred, every motion deliberate despite the chaos Boone pounded into her from behind.
Her whole body jolted when Boone finally grunted and spilled inside her ass, but her grip didn’t falter. Not even then.
Not until Kenny said, “Next position.”
She moved fast, shifting and twisting around until her lips were sealed around Kenny’s shaft. She sucked him deep without hesitation despite the fact her jaw throbbed from clenching, and her thighs trembled from holding herself in place while Boone had fucked her hard and fast.
Silas entered her ass with no warning and no gentleness, and her body screamed.
Her breath caught, her spine arched in shocked pain, but she moaned low around Kenny’s cock instead of gagging.
She accepted what they gave her like a good fucktoy, and she held the rhythm because this was about service.
Her pleasure wasn’t part of the equation, so she blocked her own needs and focused on theirs.
Kenny groaned. “Fuck, that’s better. Good job, little whore.”
“She’s getting there,” Silas said. “Took a hell of a lot of cock to break her in, to teach the bitch how to be a proper pleasure-whore.”
She focused on being a vessel to Silas while she pleasured Kenny. If she got caught up in Silas’s taunts, she’d fuck up.
When Boone returned, his cock was only semi-hard, and she curled her hand around it and worked him with the firm, smooth strokes he prefers.
And kept her hand moving.
Her nose pressed against Kenny’s torso with every bob, throat relaxing on instinct now, the angle burned into her. Boone grew harder in her grip, and she adjusted her pace a little faster, then faster still until she nearly matched the vicious rhythm of Silas pounding her from behind.
She was aware of everything.
The stretch and raw friction in her ass, the burn in her shoulders, the heat in her hand, the slick choke of Kenny’s cock in her throat while she worked herself up and down on it.
She was present, aware of every man’s needs, every cock, but she let muscle memory do the work while her mind catalogued needed adjustments.
And she didn’t stop.
Kenny cupped the back of her head, caressed it, and removed his hand.
A sign he wanted more. If this wasn’t a test, he’d have taken over. She increased her speed, slamming down on him, bobbing faster. Harder.
Silas groaned and came with a muttered curse, fingers bruising her hips as he slammed in one last time, driving so deep the jolt nearly knocked her off rhythm, but she held steady and kept working. Stayed on task for both Kenny and Boone.
Finally, Kenny said, “Excellent work. Last round.”
She didn’t hesitate. No chalk marks going into the last position. Not a single fucking one.
She mounted Kenny with aching grace, guided him into her slick cunt, and began to ride him, slow at first. Deep. Controlled. Every downward push of her thighs lit muscles already shredded from overuse, but she breathed through it and focused.
Boone moved closer, still hard. She reached for him, wrapped her hand around his girth, and stroked with the mental discipline of an obedient, well-trained fucktoy.
He was too fat for her fingers to meet, so she twisted her grip as she moved up and down.
Her forearm screamed and her wrist strained to keep moving, keep twisting, but this was about his pleasure, not her fatigue. This was service and obedience.
Silas crouched in front of her with an evil set of clamps and a wicked gleam in his eye. She yelped and gasped when he snapped them on, but she didn’t break her rhythm.
Boone’s cock swelled in her hand, and she adjusted instantly with more twist, more of a slam, a little tighter around the base but not the head. Her arm was dying, but she didn’t let it matter.
Silas twisted the clamps, metal teeth on sensitive flesh, and pain ripped through her chest like lightning. Her breath stuttered, but she kept moving.
Up, down, grind, grip, stroke, twist, breathe, focus.
Obey.
Silas yanked a clamp off and slapped her tit. Her body jolted, cunt tightening around Kenny, but she forced the rhythm to hold.
“Harder,” Kenny said. “Faster. Squeeze your cunt muscles. Milk my fucking cock.”
Her thighs trembled from the effort, but she drove down harder, clenched tight around him, riding his cock like an obedient fucktoy desperate to prove she could perform exactly as expected, and she worked her cunt muscles in perfect rhythm.
Silas twisted the remaining clamp again and white-hot pain shot through her nerves, but she didn’t stop moving. She worked her legs, her hips, her cunt, her arm, her wrist, her fucking fingers.
Boone made a guttural sound and spilled, come spurting off the bed onto the floor, but she kept stroking until he moved away.
She adjusted her weight, propped her upper body better, and fucked herself harder on Kenny’s cock. Her own pleasure was a firestorm between her legs, but she forced it down.
Her cunt clenched. Her thighs trembled. She wanted to come. God, she wanted to come, but the only thing that mattered in this moment was Kenny’s pleasure and keeping her breasts available for Silas to torment.
Silas yanked the clamp off and immediately closed the biting teeth back around both bruised nipples with a cruel snap. He pulled, twisted, and then slapped her breasts a half-dozen times, hard enough to make her vision blur.
She screamed and gasped at his ruthless treatment, but she rode Kenny’s cock without faltering.
“Look at that,” Silas said, mock-pride in his voice. “Our little mare’s finally broken to saddle.”
She didn’t respond. Moved faster.
Finally, Kenny groaned beneath her. His hips snapped up once, twice, then held. She slowed her thrusts, milking him with her inner muscles until he pressed down on her hips, telling her to stop.
Only then did she let herself collapse against his chest, gasping, sweat running down her spine, and Silas leaned in to kiss her cheek and take the clamps off her nipples. “What a good little pleasure whore our little cumbucket is turning into.”
Kenny kissed her shoulder from behind and told her, “You’ve never been allowed to come during training, but you’ve earned it. On your back, talented little fucktoy.”
Speechless, she obeyed. Kenny knew how to pull orgasms from her even when she doesn’t have permission, and tonight, she had a freebie.
And it’d been days since she’d been allowed to come.
Kenny leaned over her where she lay spread on the bed and buried two fingers in her. Three. Moved them in slow, devastating circles until she thought she’d go mad.
“Do I need permission, Sir?”
“Not this time.”
He pressed her clit with his other palm. She was still trembling, still stretched from his cock, her chest flushed and rising with every breath. Her hips lifted, breath catching, her whole body tilting toward the edge. He circled tighter. Deeper.
She cried out, thighs shaking, and then came with a sob, his hand never stopping as he guided her through it, steady and unrelenting.
When she collapsed back against the bed, he kissed her lips, slow and firm. Whispered, “You’ve earned an orgasm from each of us.”
He brushed his thumb over her cheek, gaze steady. “Mine was a gift, but they’ll each decide how to deliver the other two, and I have confidence that, no matter how they’re given, you’ll relish and enjoy them.”
Silas moved into place between her legs, lined up, and drove into her still-aching ass with brutal strength. No lube beyond what her body had left behind. No warmup. Just pressure, burning pain, and the sharp intake of her breath as he seated himself fully.
She gasped, her whole body locking up as he forced himself deep, muscles spasming in protest, the ache from earlier now ripped raw again.
She moaned low, head tipping back, not in pleasure but surrender.