14. Noelle
fourteen
Noelle
T he oppressive sensation of being watched jolts me awake from what I can only assume was a blackout. The last memory I can grasp is of the short, masked man choking me with his belt, his disregard for my pleas ringing in my ears. Then, everything went dark.
My neck aches, a throbbing reminder of my ordeal, yet the belt is no longer tight around it. My body feels as though it has been hit by a bus, every muscle aflame with pain. Though my hands remain bound by leather cuffs, my eyes have been freed from the blindfold, allowing me to see three of the four masked figures surrounding me. I lie exposed on the bed, the warmth of the cabin blending sharply with the relentless snow piling up just beyond the wooden walls.
The short man—the one who choked me—is missing from the group. Instead, I see Q, a gleam of concern evident in his eyes, which I can only imagine mirrors the worry etched onto his mask-covered face. He sits closest to me, his hand lightly brushing against my upper thigh, while the other two men, shirtless and arms crossed over their chests, loom above me.
"Well, look who's finally awake," one of the standing men remarks, a playful lilt to his voice.
"What happened?" I whisper, my throat sore, my voice hoarse.
"Just a little roughness, but you're fine," Q informs me, moving his hand between my thighs, gently swiping his eager fingers up and down my pussy.
I can't help but moan, instinctively parting my legs to give him easier access, feeling like a neddy, desperate whore for allowing these strangers to do these things to me. But I fucking love what they've done to me. I love the way they've made me feel. The way they've made me forget. The way they've taken my pain away... even if it's bound to return when our night together is over.
“Hope you enjoyed your little nap,” he sneers, his confidence radiating like heat from the fireplace in the corner of the room.
I feel my heart racing, every instinct in my body urging me to fight, to flee, but the leather cuffs remind me of my current helplessness.
“What do you want now?” I manage to croak out, voice hoarse and weak.
My throat burns as if I’ve swallowed fire, and I struggle to suppress a cough that feels too dangerous in this moment. Q shoots me a quick look, his expression shifting, a blend of guilt and determination crossing his features. The way he glances toward the door makes me wonder if he is contemplating making a run for it.
“The real question,” the second standing man—tall and wiry with wild hair—chimes in, “is what we’re going to do with you now that you’re awake. You provided quite the entertainment for our little group.”
I squirm, testing the strength of my restraints, adrenaline pumping through my veins. “Let me go. I'm done now.” It’s a desperate plea, but it seems to amuse the wiry one even more.
“She’s got spirit; I’ll give her that,” Q laughs, but the sound is devoid of warmth. “But we’re not in the business of letting people walk away once they’ve seen too much, and you, Little Freak, have seen a lot... and we're nowhere near done with you yet.”
A sickening twist of fear replaces my anger. “I haven’t seen anything!” I protest, knowing that my words are likely useless against their intentions.
I can feel Q's eyes boring into me, silently urging me to remain calm. Just then, the door swings open with a creak, and a gust of cold air sweeps into the cabin, causing the flames in the fireplace to flicker erratically. In walks the short man, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his thick coat. The moment I see him, a feral urge to recoil overwhelms me.
“Glad to see you’re up,” he says coolly, a sinister, twisted look flickering in his eyes, his mask, of course, covering his face. “It’s time for us to have a little chat.”
The others part slightly, allowing him to take center stage. Dread pools in my stomach as I remember that I’m in fact the focal point of their sinister gathering. I lock eyes with Q, who seems to be weighing his options.
“Why are you doing this?” I stammer, desperation creeping into my tone. “You don’t have to hurt me!”
The short man tilts his head, as if pondering my words. “Oh, but we're not,” he replies, lowering his gaze to the floor. “You’ve stumbled into something far beyond your comprehension. We’re just trying to give you what you've been begging all those strangers online for.”
“I told one person,” I whisper, grappling with the words as I deliberately shoot Q a glare for not saying anything in my defense. "So what does that even mean?”
“We’ll explain everything,” he says, his grin widening. “But first, we need to know just how much you’re willing to endure.”
With a subtle nod, he signals the other two men to shift closer. I brace myself against the bed, panic igniting within me. I can’t let them break me; I have to endure to survive whatever nightmare or pleasurable experience comes next.
As the first man leans down, a glint of something sharp catches my eye—a blade concealed beneath his belt. Every instinct screams at me to fight, to scream, but nothing comes out when I open my mouth. Plus, Q puts his hand over my mouth, prepared to muffle my screams, keeping it there even though nothing comes out.
"You're not a part of this," Q snaps angrily at the short man, keeping his eyes on mine as he speaks to him. "You fucked up, so now you get to record, cameraman."
"Fine, as long as I get to fuck her one more time before we bring her back." He rubs his hands together, making me cringe, but I never take my eyes off Q, who begins shaking his head.
"Not sure that's going to happen. So for now, set up the fucking camera and get ready," Q bites, his words dripping with poison.
The short man huffs but obeys Q’s commands, making me think he's some sort of boss or leader. As he gets the camera ready to record whatever is about to happen, the two men on either side of the bed begin to undress, my curious eyes darting back and forth between them.
Q coughs, pulling my attention back onto him, jealousy apparent in his familiar eyes. He undresses slowly, pulling a blindfold out of his pocket before his clothes end up in a messy heap on the floor.
"Please," I beg, shaking my head, getting a shooting pain down my spine.
"It's for your own good. You don't want to see what we're about to do to you, Little Freak," Q whispers to me, his tongue teasingly gliding along his bottom lip, then his top, as he leans in and secures the blindfold over my eyes once again.
"Forgive me, Ms. Saint, but your about to sin more than you ever have in your life... and we'll be the ones to turn you into that filthy sinner." He lies down beside me and quickly grabs my hips to roll me on top of him.
Right away, I feel his bare cock slap against my pussy, the thick head pushing through my lips. His grasp on my hips only tightens as he feverishly rocks me back and forth, the tip of his cock slapping my clit, my body jolting from the zaps.
"Put your hands on my fucking shoulders," he demands, just as one of the other men grabs my wrists and begins to unlock the cuffs, freeing my hands for the first time since I got here.
I quickly obey Q and lean forward slightly to place my hands on his muscular shoulders, digging my acrylic nails deep into his skin.
"You're going to be a good little slut, Ms. Saint, and take the three of us at once. Is that enough sinning for you, icicle?" The other masked man says, giving me a chill at the mention of the icicle, reminding me of the ice queen nickname Cole starting calling me after his father was murdered.
But I know it's my mind playing tricks on me, especially since I'm blindfolded again.
So I nod my head, hanging it. "Yes, sir," I whisper, not sure what to call him.
I feel the bed dip behind me, and a pair of cold hands wrap around my waist just above Q's warm hands. I gasp, trying to keep calm as the man behind me bends me over, pushing me against Q with my ass spread and lifted in the air. Feeling more exposed and vulnerable than I have this entire night, I bury my face in the crook of Q's armpit, as if he'll be the one to save me and make it all better.
But he doesn't.
He suddenly wraps his arms around my torso, pinning me down against him with all his strength, making it so I can't move. His lips brush against my cheek, slowly making their way to my ear.
"I know you've been fucked in the ass before," he growls slowly into my ear, giving me a chill. "But I can bet tonight will be like nothing you've ever had... my only advice for you, Ms. Saint, is to fucking breathe and try not to tense up."
He tugs my lobe between his teeth and nips at it hard, causing a hiss to slip from my lips that are pressed against his warm skin. Trying to listen to his advice, I close my eyes—even though I'm blindfolded—and try to think of a time when I felt good, hoping to distract myself from the inevitable pain.
Surprisingly, Q begins kissing my neck slow and sensual, rubbing soft, teasing circles at the small of my back, and it feels so fucking good my pussy drips arousal all over him. The man behind me slaps a cold, wet glob of lube or something over my ass, rubbing it all across my skin and down to my pussy, making sure I'm ready for him to fuck. Using his fingers, he inserts three inside me without warning, and I can instantly feel myself tensing from the blinding pain.
"Ow, fuck," I gasp, biting Q's shoulder to keep my painful sobs to a minimum.
"I promise it'll feel better real soon... it'll feel so fucking good with my cock buried in your ass and another in that tight cunt of yours." He thrusts his fingers in a rhythm, stretching my ass so his cock won't rip me apart, although I think it still might.
"Let me hear those sexy screams, Ms. Saint," Q speaks into my ear, his voice gravelly.
I moan instinctively as the man behind me thrusts into my ass with his fingers, using a corkscrew motion and going deeper and deeper each time. Q grabs my throat and squeezes tightly, pulling my mouth down to meet his.
The second I taste his wet lips brushing against mine, I relax against him, unbothered by the violent invasion taking over my ass. But with each thrust, the pain subsides, and I find myself willingly rocking against Q and into the other man's fingers, wondering where the third man is and what he has planned.
"I can make her scream for you," the man fucking my ass with his fingers says, suddenly pulling them out of me.
I freeze, my nails digging into Q's shoulders as a sudden, sharp, blinding pain shoots from my ass up my spine and down the back of my legs. A feral scream rips from my throat as he slams his cock into me, holding my hips in a vice grip.
"Ahh, good fucking girl," Q grunts, easing me up slightly and sliding his cock into my pussy while the man behind me uses wild, desperate strokes to fill my ass entirely.
My body throbs. My hands shake, trying to hold onto Q for dear life, and a sudden wetness begins to drop between my thighs as both men fuck me mercilessly. As I go to open my mouth to let out another scream, my head is roughly jerked to the side, and the third man pushes his cock between my lips, forcing a gag out of me almost instantly. With a strong grip on my hair, tugging while his hips buck, he plows his thick cock into my mouth relentlessly, the swollen tip slamming against the back of my throat.
"Suck me. Don't make me do all the work, Ms. Saint," he commands in a deep growl, yanking on my hair once more.
Slowly, trying to ignore the double invasion in my ass and pussy, I begin swirling my tongue around the dick in my mouth, slurping my spit before it drips from my lips and makes a mess.
Even in immense pain, the hint of pleasure is overwhelming. I push the feeling of burning, ripping skin to the back of my mind and focus on sucking the man's dick, hearing small gasps and grunts each time he thrusts into my mouth.
"You look fucking perfect like this, whore. It's like you were made for the camera," the short guy announces, making me jump, almost forgetting he was recording the entire ordeal.
Suddenly, something prickly and itchy wraps around my neck, and I'm yanked backward against the man behind me. A hint of pine travels up my nose, and right away, I realize they've wrapped my throat in garland.
Sucking one cock and bouncing on another while a third slams into my ass, I've never felt more full. My body feels on the verge of breaking, my muscles ripping in all the right places. I go with the flow and fall into the moment, trying to keep my momentum while I ride and suck, unfazed by the camera recording me somewhere in the room.
Q reaches up and cups my breasts, roughly twisting my nipples just to see a look of pain wash over my face. Even blindfolded, I shut my eyes, trying to push the shame and embarrassment down as far as I can.
If my husband knew about my fantasies, he would've left me a long time ago. But if Cole were to find out, I know he'd give me hell to pay, and it would make matters between us much worse. But even so, as I ride Q's cock and take the brutal pounding in my ass without complaints, all I can picture is my stepson fucking my mouth while I look into his eyes, and I shudder from the forbidden thoughts, knowing he can never find out about this or anything else for that matter.
Still, it doesn't hurt to fantasize about it, so that's exactly what I do.