4
"God I love this," the second man growls, his voice thick with lust.
His biceps flex as he twists his wrist inside her, fingertips brushing places Natasha didn’t know could be touched.
"I'm going to rip her completely open now."
With a brutal shove, he drives his fist all the way up her asshole, his elbow pressing against her bruised cheeks.
Natasha’s vision whites out—her body suspended between unbearable fullness and mind-shattering pleasure.
The man in her cunt curses, his cock twitching as her convulsing walls milk him. "Christ, I'm gonna come now—!"
Natasha barely notices the hot flood inside her.
Every nerve is alight, her asshole stretched impossibly wide around the intruding forearm.
The second man pants above her ass, sweat dripping down his temple as he grinds deeper.
The leather restraints bite into her wrists as she thrashes, her moans ragged.
"Fuck—fuck, it’s too much—!" she sobs, but her body betrays her, clenching greedily around him.
The man chuckles, shifting his weight to push further.
His knuckles scrape something deep, and Natasha’s scream dissolves into a broken whimper.
The first man pulls out of her cunt with a wet sound, his cum dripping onto the bench beneath.
“Christ, look at that,” he mutters, dragging a thumb through her gaping folds before smearing it over her twitching asshole stretched taut around the other man’s wrist.
Natasha shudders, oversensitive and raw, but the second man doesn’t relent.
He twists his arm experimentally, muscles flexing, and Natasha’s back bows violently.
“You feel that, whore? My whole fucking arm is inside you now.”
His voice is guttural, strained with effort—and something darker. Possession.
With a wet pop, he withdraws his fist abruptly, leaving Natasha gasping at the sudden emptiness.
But the reprieve lasts only a second—his cock is already pressing against her ruined hole, blunt and thick with need.
“Now it’s my turn,” he snarls, slamming home in one brutal thrust.
Natasha screams, her body arching against the restraints.
Her asshole—stretched beyond belief—still burns from the invasion, but the pain melts into white-hot pleasure so intense her vision blurs.
The man growls, his hands clamping bruisingly onto her hips as he sets a punishing pace from the start.
"Fuck, she's swallowing me whole," he grunts, his thrusts turning erratic.
Natasha feels every ridge of his cock as it pistons in and out, but the frictionless glide makes him curse.
"My god, I don't feel anything. I feel no friction at all."
He slams into her harder, hips snapping against her ass cheeks with enough force to make the bench shudder.
"Your ass is too wide now," he shouts, frustration lacing his voice.
Natasha whimpers, her body trembling—but her cunt pulses with need, aching to be filled again, as his cock plunges into her gaping ass with obscene ease.
He laughs—a rough, breathless sound—before pressing two fingers into Natasha's slick cunt.
"Christ, she's dripping," he mutters, twisting his wrist to spread her open wider.
Natasha arches against the restraints, her thighs trembling.
Then—without warning—he withdraws his fingers and spits directly onto her clit.
The sudden cold makes her jerk, but his thumb is already there, grinding slow circles just shy of painful.
Natasha's moan cracks into a sob as pleasure coils tight in her gut.
"Beg," he orders, his voice dark. Natasha's lips part—she's already panting—but before she can speak, the second man groans loudly behind her.
Natasha barely registers the wet sound of his cock leaving her asshole before it's slamming into her cunt with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs.
"Fuck!" she screams, her back bowing violently.
The stretch is nothing compared to his fist in her ass, but the sudden fullness—the brutal, unrelenting thrusts—make her vision blur.
The man pistons into her without hesitation, his hips slapping against her ass cheeks with a wet smack.
Natasha's cunt pulses around him, still oversensitive from earlier, and the dual sensations of pleasure and overstimulation make her writhe against the restraints.
"Too much—!" she gasps, but her body betrays her, clenching greedily around his cock.
"This is better!" the man shouts, ramming hard into her cunt with enough force to shake the bench.
His fingers dig bruises into her hips as he fucks her with raw, unrestrained force.
Natasha's moans dissolve into ragged sobs—each thrust hitting deep, the head of his cock pressing against her cervix with punishing accuracy.
Sweat drips from his forehead onto her bare ass, and Natasha can smell the musk of his exertion mingling with the tang of her own arousal.
The scent makes her dizzy—her body responding instinctively despite the overwhelming stimulation.
The man growls, his rhythm turning erratic.
"Your cunt's fucking ruined," he grits out, dragging his cock halfway out before slamming back in. "Gaping like a well-used whore."
Behind her, the other man laughs and presses his hand against her gaping asshole, fingers spreading her obscenely wide.
"Look at that," he murmurs, voice thick with amusement.
"Her asshole's still twitching." He traces the stretched rim with two fingers before pushing them back inside with a wet squelch.
Natasha jerks, oversensitive and raw, but he doesn't relent.
His fingers scissor deeper, stretching her wider, just as the man in her cunt angles his thrusts upward—hitting that sweet spot that makes her vision white out.
Natasha's scream cracks into a whimper, her thighs trembling violently.
The man fucking her cunt snarls something guttural, his rhythm turning erratic.
His balls slap against the other man's fingers still buried in Natasha's ass, the wet sound filthy and obscene.
"Fuck—yeah, that's it—" he grits out, hips stuttering.
Natasha feels him swell inside her a second before hot spurts flood her cunt, pulsing deep with each ragged groan.
The sensation sends her over the edge again—her walls clamping down hard, milking him as she arches violently against the restraints.
The man behind her chuckles darkly, twisting his fingers inside her ass to prolong her convulsions.
"Christ, she's still coming," he mutters, dragging his fingers out slowly just to feel her flutter around him.
The first man pulls out with a wet sound, his spent cock glistening with her slickness.
He steps back, buckling his belt with a smirk.
"Shall we do her another time?" he asks, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
The second man grins, palming Natasha's ass roughly.
"Sure," he says, fingers tracing her gaping rim.
"She'll be loose enough for everyone by then."
Natasha whimpers at the thought—her body already aching, oversensitive and dripping—but her cunt pulses traitorously at the promise of more.
Then the door swings open, hinges creaking, and Jack's voice cuts through the thick air.
"One time only, gentlemen," he announces, amusement lacing his tone.
"Unless, of course, you'd like to buy additional passage."
Natasha tries to turn her head, but the restraints keep her pinned, face pressed down into the leather bench.
The scent of sex clings to her skin, mingling with the musk of sweat and the sharp tang of come.
She hears the men silently leave the room.
New footsteps approach—slow, deliberate—and Natasha feels the silence stretch taut between them.
Whoever this is isn't rushing. A calloused hand skims up the curve of her ass, fingers tracing the wet mess between her thighs before sliding back to press against her gaping holes, first her cunt then her ass.
"Christ, look at this!" a deep voice murmurs—rough with something like awe.
"She's gaping like she's being raped by a horse."
The pad of his thumb circles her stretched rim, testing, and Natasha shudders.
He leans down growling, "You're a fucking wreck, aren't you?"
Before she can answer, his fingers push back into her asshole—three at once—twisting mercilessly.
Natasha's back arches, her cry muffled against the leather bench.
"Yeah," he mutters, twisting deeper. "You're still tight inside somehow. How is this possible" His other hand grips her hip, fingertips pressing bruises into skin as he scissors his fingers wider, stretching her obscenely.
The wet squelch echoes in the small space, mingling with Natasha's ragged moans.
Then his whole fist is in—a brutal, relentless push that makes Natasha's vision white out.
She screams, the sound raw and broken as her asshole stretches beyond what should be possible.
The man chuckles darkly, twisting his forearm just to watch her writhe.
"God, look at that," he mutters, watching her fluttering rim struggle to accommodate him.
His bicep flexes as he shoves deeper, knuckles scraping places inside her that ignite white-hot pleasure-pain.
Natasha's body convulses, her cunt pulsing empty and needy even as her ass is filled beyond comprehension.
"Tell me," he growls, withdrawing his fist agonizingly slow—only to slam it back in with a wet crunch.
Natasha's breath hitches, her thighs trembling violently.
"Tell me how much you love this." His fingers curl inside her, pressing against that spot that makes her see stars.
Natasha sobs, her voice thready. "I—I love it—!"
The admission tears from her throat as he scissors his fingers wider, her asshole clenching desperately around the intrusion.
The man's breath rasps against her sweat-slicked back.
"Louder," he demands, punctuating the word with another brutal thrust of his hand.
Natasha's scream echoes off the walls, her body arching against the restraints.
The leather cuffs bite into her wrists as she writhes, her hips jerking involuntarily against his thrusts.
"Fuck—yes! Yes, I love it!" she gasps, her voice breaking.
The man groans, his free hand gripping her hip hard enough to bruise.
"Christ, listen to that," he mutters, twisting his wrist just to hear her whimper.
His breath is hot against her spine. "You were made for this, weren't you? Made to take whatever I give you."