Chapter 15
Juniper
He slams into me…shoving his cock fully deep, banging into the ass plug, and ramming my body into the padding.
My thighs are spread wider by the force.
My tortured rear still burns from the belt.
Yet, I try to shift my locked-down feet even wider, to invite him in…
because I can’t not do so. He thuds in again.
Abruptly, I’m filled with thick cock, with a thrust so devastating I go blind for a second. My eyes have slammed shut. I try to gasp, to breathe, only my mouth is also being reamed by cock. Conquered. Dominated. I’m impaled in a way I’ve never been before.
I arch, spine straining hard, offering my ass to this man who just takes and takes me. Compelled by reflexes impossible to deny. And Tomás thrusts into my mouth. Filled at both ends, by two very hungry men.
I grunt as they piston in and out, and I’m gasping for breath, as cock slides over my tongue to the back of my throat, spurting saliva past my already drooling lips.
The metal gag keeps my mouth open. I’ve become a convenient pair of holes to them.
It’s scary and exhilarating to be used so thoroughly.
They slap and smack and grind into me, and the yearning for release builds an excruciating tension in my lower belly.
My clit throbs. My spine bows more than seems possible as I strain to receive them, no matter the disgusting display they’ve made of me.
Somewhere out there, beyond the bright lights, people watch us, watch me being used. I can hear the catcalls.
I’m not to come, he said, but my body has other ideas.
Shaking, panting, I feel the climax coming. Almost, almost there.
Then Loxland snaps out, “Swap ends?”
They pull out. Disappointed, I groan and suck in much-needed air, my head hanging low. I’m empty yet craving more.
My drool drip-drip-drips to the floor below.
Loxland claims a handful of hair on the top of my head and forces up my head. Blearily, hopelessly lost, I go cross-eyed as he feeds his cock into my mouth through the gag hole, pushing over my teeth and tongue. He grunts as he sinks in. I do the same.
There’s a thrust from behind as Tomás impales me to the hilt, his balls slapping onto my pussy and almost my clit. The sounds of wet thudding, of gasping and stifled breaths become relentless. Shamefully, I moan, my eyes closing again. I’m needy and desperate to take whatever they want to give me.
More wild thrusts and again, Loxland pulls out of my mouth.
“Swap. Last time.”
“Fuck, chamos, I wanna come in her here.” But he pulls out and I gasp-whimper at the loss, swallowing a mix of precum, spit, and the taste of cock.
Loxland laughs. “Listen to her. Next time, cunt’s yours.” Feet move on the floor then I’m thrust into, again, taken at both ends, with the ass plug adding a strange overfullness back there. My muscles try to expel it, but Mr Loxland shoves it deeper every time he bangs into me.
The rope on my hands flexes from the force they’re using on me. I’m being spit-roasted while an audience beyond the lights critiques every detail.
Their timing is faster, the fucking harder, and I’m barely getting enough air as whoever has my mouth shoves deep and stays there, his fingers trapping my head, then… my mouth’s flooding with hot come.
Someone unstraps and removes the spider gag.
I swallow a groan as I’m abandoned, apart from the fist holding my hair while excess come spills past my lips.
The last man takes me, noisily, with a jolting slap of flesh on flesh, that shudders my body into the bench, and the heat in my core ramps higher.
Tension coils tight until I gulp in another breath and spasm onto his dick.
My engorged clit is being rhythmically squashed into the padding of the bench like second-best vibe, but with a man inside me as well.
Ignoring all else, I close my eyes to simply feel.
So close. Then…I’m arching, hard, thighs tensing as he curses, his hands dragging me into his body, glueing us into one organism. One flesh. His sweat drips on my back. Thud, thud, thud. Again. The bench squeaks. My pussy clamps in. Oh. Oh, god. There. There.
Muscles rigid, I shake as the peak of an orgasm takes me, and I cry out and hear distant cheering.
I whimper, and the man still inside me does three…more…body rocking thrusts and penetrates me to the ends of fucking earth. I feel the swell as his come spurts. My inner muscles spasm again in the last echo of my climax. He extracts himself, steps away.
I lie slumped over the bench, panting wildly, unable to do anything except exist.
A smack from an open hand burns my ass cheek. “The bitch came. Naughty, bad girl.”
Tomás chuckles then zips up. “Punish her again, later?”
“For sure.”
They untie me, extract that plug, then, to my surprise, bundle me into a thin blanket, naked and with the collar still on, as they head toward to the entrance, with Mr. Loxland flanking me to the left and Tomás to my right.
Almost no one looks at us. Too much is going on in here for anything to be peak entertainment.
We find a bathroom, where I’m instructed to shower and put on a new dress and underwear. Wrung out from everything, I do as I’m told.
“What about staying for lunch?” Tomás says as the warm water pours over my back while I lean my hands on the glass wall.
I’m aching, stinging even, here and there, especially my butt, but I’m stupidly happy.
Maybe they sucked out my brain with their cocks.
I sigh and turn over, lean my back against the glass as I peer down my front, lifting my breasts, and noting all the places I’ve been pinched, sucked on, and bitten.
Fuck, I am crazy.
“No. I’d want to go punch Karsten. He went over the line, sending his man to instruct me on what to do to her. You want to stay? You can.”
“No.”
Instead of returning to the party, we turn left outside the bathroom, and return to the foyer, then head past the reception desk.
No words are exchanged with the staff who only smile and hand back their belongings.
We descend the front steps and wait for a valet to fetch our vehicle.
I’m placed in the rear seat with Mr. Loxland, this time, and he has me lie with my head on his lap.
It’s strangely comforting.
“We have to have another talk when we get back.”
When I nod, my hair makes rustling sounds on his pants. I put my hand on his thigh, just above his knee.
“Lunch first,” Tomás says from the driver’s seat. “You’re making me miss whatever they have arranged here, and it’s always good.”
“Lunch first,” Mr. Loxland agrees.
The mention of food reminds me of our breakfast on the ferry, that seems a long time ago. Whatever this Karsten Drummond said to them has changed things.
The car engine starts and the tires grate then we rumble down the road.
“I’m being lenient with you,” he says, then he sighs. “Fuck, Karsten.”
After a moment, he wraps his hand over the top of my fingers and closes it. We’re holding hands? I have to smile, even if I might have to leave them soon.