Chapter 5
The Skull’s hand fisted in my hair, a brutal anchor in the sea of my unraveling. His cock, still slick with my saliva and his pre-cum, pressed against my lips as he thrust gently forward. A tease and a taunt.
“Clean me up, you pretty little slut,” he commanded, his voice a gravelly promise of more. “Then you can really taste what you’re doing to me.” He yanked on my hair, and I gasped, my mouth opening enough he could shove his enormous cock fully between my lips.
The fleshy taste of him filled my mouth, a salty, very male reminder of what I was doing to these men.
“That’s it. Take it to the back of your throat and gag.”
I licked and sucked, my tongue tracing the thick vein underneath, their obedient little whore performing her duty to get them off. The degradation should have hollowed me out, made me cry and beg for them to stop… made me fight them off. Instead, it filled me with a perverse pride.
I’m doing this. I’m making these powerful men lose control.
I started sucking, licking, gagging, tears streaming down my cheeks. I could hardly breathe, my heart racing, my adrenaline and fear comingling until I didn’t know where one started and the other ended.
Before I could finish, and when I knew The Skull was close to shooting his load down my throat, he grabbed my arms and hauled me off my knees. He tossed me backwards onto the threadbare rug and spread me wide.
My head spun, the world a tilting carousel of masked faces and big male bodies shrouded in black surrounding me.
The Stag’s cum still seeped from my sensitive and sore pussy, a warm, sticky trail down my slit and along the crease of my ass.
The Skull was the one to step closer. He loomed over me, his bony mask a horrifying moon of shapes and shadows.
“My turn again.” He dropped between my splayed legs, his hands hooking under my knees and pushing them toward my shoulders, bending me impossibly, spreading me obscenely.
The position slightly lifted my ass up like an offering.
Pressure built in my spine, exposing my asshole and my swollen, dripping pussy to the fire’s heat and these three stalkers.
The Skull didn’t dive in right away. He just… watched. Stared. Even with his mask, I could feel his gaze hidden behind its empty sockets. It felt like a physical weight on my most intimate flesh. I squirmed, a flush of hot shame washing over me.
Why wasn’t I fighting? Why isn’t he touching me?
“Look at this mess.” The Skull chuckled, the sound dark and amused. I stared at his big, thick hands covered in tattoos. He ran a single finger through the sticky wetness dripping out of my little pussy hole, then smeared it around my inner thighs, painting me with the cum The Stag filled me with.
I pushed up on my elbows and watched him.
He held up a finger, glossy with semen and catching the firelight.
He brought it to the lower half of his mask, used his other hand to push it up enough I could see his full lips and tattoos covering both sides of his neck, and sucked the pad of that finger between his lips.
He made a low, appreciative hum when he was done cleaning off the digit.
“Fuck, that’s good. You taste even better with another man’s load on you, you filthy girl. ”
The praise wrapped in such vile filth sent an erotic tremor through me. My pussy clenched around nothing. I was aching. Empty. All three men laughed, and this shame filled me, but for some strange reason, I wanted more of it.
Finally, when he lowered his mouth, my arms were jerked out from under me and pulled taut above my head. I gasped, muscles protesting, and saw The Black Mask wrapping garland around my wrists… and then another strand around my neck.
The garland was cold at first, its metallic thread brushing my throat as he drew it around me. I should’ve felt trapped. Instead, I felt like I was the center of their universe. The tree lights shone dimly along the walls and ceiling, their glow seeming to pulse in time with my heartbeat.
The Black Mask moved slightly so I could see him clearly, the metallic sheen of his mask terrifying as it was erotic. He wound the garland tighter, just beneath my jaw, slightly cutting off my airflow.
I felt The Stag’s breath warm against my ear, knew he pushed the bottom half of his mask up, and whispered, “Breathe for us.”
I gasped, still able to breathe, but it was harder, the thought these men could asphyxiate me with a twist of a wrist exciting me.
The Black Mask tightened the garland even more, his touch firm, unyielding. The pressure wasn’t enough to hurt… only enough to remind me how fragile air could be. Each inhale came slowly, deliberately. Each exhale trembled out of me like a confession of the power they wielded over me.
The world narrowed to the pulse in my throat, the lights flickering red and green over everything, and the quiet promise that they could take everything from me… but hadn’t, yet.
The Skull laughed again, and I looked back down the length of me to see his face hovering between my thighs. His tongue, hot and pink, pressed against the tight, forbidden hole of my ass.
I jerked at the initial feeling, a shocked gasp tearing from my throat. “No…” The protest was weak, automatic. It meant nothing and certainly didn’t stop him from continuing.
“Yes,” The Stag corrected from beside me. His voice was calm, sending an electric buzz that went straight to my core. “Her mouth says one thing, but look at her body and how it begs for all of us.” The three chuckled. “Look how she pushes back against your tongue and doesn’t even realize it.”
The Skull growled his agreement, his tongue working me open, a slow, wet, relentless penetration that had me seeing stars.
This was so wrong but also felt so damn right.
So dirty. And it felt so fucking good. The sharp pressure, the intimate violation, and the sheer taboo of it had me rolling my hips and thrusting my ass further into his face.
“Rub her clit,” The Black Mask said to The Stag, and as soon as he knelt at my side and touched the swollen bundle of nerves, I moaned and let my legs fall open even farther.
An orgasm coiled in my belly far too quickly. I was panting, my fingers curling into my palms, the garland scratchy on my inner wrists, but the discomfort turned me on even more.
A broken string of “No, no please,” fell from my lips, that everyone in the room knew meant “Yes. Give me more.”
Just as I was about to shatter and come all over their fingers and mouth, The Skull and The Stag stopped.
The Stag took The Skull’s place between my legs now, his mouth latching onto my clit and sucking the sensitive nub hard while he shoved two of his bare fingers into my cunt.
I moaned when he curled up to find a spot inside that made my vision blur at the edges.
The Stag fucked me with his fingers, fast and deep, his mouth a vacuum on my clit.
With one hand firmly holding the garland around my neck, The Black Mask sucked his fingers into his mouth, sloppily coating them with his spit.
Reaching down under The Stag’s mouth, he rimmed my asshole with his slick fingers.
I bucked and shimmied at his touch, my pussy clenching with light flutters.
The Black Mask slowly, intently, pushed a thick digit into my ass and pumped in and out, in and out, a few times before withdrawing with a clinging suction.
A long, breathy moan ripped from my tethered throat.
I’d never felt such pleasure before. And I wanted more. A lot more.
“Get off for us again. Be our perfect fuckhole,” he snarled into my dripping flesh. “Come all over my face. Show us what a desperate, pretty little slut you really are.”
The command, the praise, and the degradation mixing as one broke me.
My orgasm ripped through me, a silent, body-morphing event that had my entire form bowing off the floor, my mouth opening, and my pussy gushing around The Stag’s thrusting fingers and suckling mouth.
I convulsed, waves of pleasure so intense they bordered on pain washing over me.
Before the last tremor even subsided, The Skull was moving. He positioned his cock at my drenched entrance. I was so sensitive that the mere press of his cock notching at my pussy hole was almost agony. Too much.
He shoved inside me anyway.
I cried out, the sound a ragged sob that humiliated me but also had ecstasy stealing my very sanity.
The Skull’s cock was enormous, stretching my already well-fucked pussy to a new limit.
The fabric of my torn panties, still coiled around one ankle, made me feel like I was being used for their own pleasure.
“God, look at that,” The Black Mask groaned, stroking his own hardening cock as he stood in front of the fire and watched. “Taking that cock like a champion. Stag, stick your sloppy dick in her mouth. Make her taste her pussy all over your cock.” He chuckled.
The Skull set a brutal pace, each thrust a punishing collision that stole my breath.
He leaned over me, his terrifying mask inches from my face.
“You love this, don’t you? Being our common whore.
Being used by three masked stalkers who forced their way into your cabin and made you their little toy. ”
Tears leaked from my eyes, sliding down my temples and soaking the rug beneath me. I shook my head, denying what he said, even as my hips lifted to meet his savage pounding.
He slammed into me, deeper than I thought possible. “Tell us you fucking love it.”
“God, you’re sick,” I cried out, feeling myself race toward another orgasm.
“I want more. I love it.” I whimpered, the confession torn from the deepest, most corrupted part of my soul.
This moment had to be a dream. These men had to be a fantasy pulled straight from my brain. None of this could be real.
“You love what?” The Skull demanded, never slowing his punishing rhythm as he braced his hands on my inner thighs and held me down to take whatever he gave me.
“I love the painful slam of your cock in me,” I sobbed, the words tasting like poison and ecstasy. Before I could say more, The Stag shoved his cock into my open mouth, forcing me to gag, to taste myself on his length.
“Good girl,” The Skull purred. His cool hands sliding under my ass, lifting me an inch more, adjusting the angle.
The Skull’s thrusts changed, now grinding against my clit with every inward stroke.
My second orgasm built fast and terrifying on the heels of the first, and the entire time, I sucked The Stag’s cock like my life depended on it.
The Skull’s pace became frantic, his grip on my hips bruising. “Gonna fill up this perfect cunt. Gonna pump you so full of seed, you’ll drip for days.”
He slammed home one last time, his body rigid above me.
I felt his cock kick, a hot, pulsing flood joining The Stag’s already big load inside me.
The sensation of being filled all over again, of being so utterly claimed, tipped me over another edge.
My cunt milked him desperately, drawing every drop from The Skull as I came again.
It was a weaker, shakier climax that left me boneless and ruined.
The Skull collapsed on top of me for a second, his weight a comforting prison before pulling out. A gush of warm, sticky fluid followed his exit, pooling beneath me on the rug.
After a long moment, The Stag groaned and pulled out of my mouth, and I sucked in a deep breath. The Skull moved out from between my legs, and together, the two masked men stepped aside and let The Black Mask step forward.
He crouched between my thighs now and ran a single, bare and cool finger through the mess of mixed cum dripping from my used pussy.
He held the glistening finger between us. “Used up, but we’re not done with you yet. And you want more, don’t you?”
The Black Mask pushed his finger between my lips, forcing me to lick off his cum-slickened digit. “Now,” he murmured, the sound vibrating to my core. “It’s my turn, dirty girl.”