So this was what three guys at once felt like. No matter where she moved, a hand was there, stroking or pinching. Her own hands were already out of commission, bound behind her in one of Ethan’s immovable sets of rope cuffs. As cool air blew over her nipples, her pussy squeezed. She was already so wet, she was ashamed of herself. She barely heard the music now, just the sounds of masculine breath.
Steve uncovered her eyes, and what he saw in them—her terrifying level of arousal—seemed to overcome his control.
“Fuck this,” he said. “Fuck going slow. Get on your knees.”
She did, willingly, and opened her mouth the way Jonathan had taught her to do every time he gave that order.
“Jesus Christ, that’s hot,” one of them whispered. Ethan twisted a hand in her hair as Steve groped her breasts, then pinched her nipples until she wobbled sideways with a gasp.
“You like that, huh?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” she said, although she didn’t usually call Steve “Sir” the way she did Jonathan and Ethan. They were all her lovers now, as they took down their boxer briefs and exposed their hard members. All she saw was thighs and knees and cocks as her arms strained against the rope that held her captive. Jonathan left, but was back a moment later, passing condoms to the other two guys.
“Open that mouth,” he ordered. “Be a good girl. You know what you need to do.”
She nodded rather than close her lips. Steve’s cock pushed inside her mouth first, abrupt with intensity. She sucked him as well as she could, though it was hard to take all of him. Someone, probably Jonathan, was holding the back of her head so she couldn’t shy away. Or fall backwards.
“Look up at him,” said Ethan, his voice half growl. “Show him how much you like his cock in your throat.”
Steve pulled out after a minute or two, and Ethan went next. While she licked his long, thick length, Steve and Jonathan jacked themselves off, at the ready. She remembered Ethan’s orders and looked up at him too, her eyes watery from the steady depths of his thrusts. He slowed, cupping her face, letting her savor every inch of him. Unlike Steve, he didn’t try to gag her, although she did gag a little.
He moved aside to make room for Jonathan. They were all hard, all heightened with desire for her, either pumping into her mouth or pumping into their hands. Someone tortured her nipples with hard, prolonged pinches as she looked up into Jonathan’s face with both a sense of panic and deep gratitude. This was so hot. It was so terrifying.
It wasn’t over yet.
They took turns in her mouth, forcing her to look up at whoever she serviced, even when drool dripped from her lips, and tears from her eyes. When they were all nearly done, the condoms came off, and they ejaculated on her breasts, the hot, viscous liquid dripping down to her nipples. She felt marked and degraded, but also excited to be the focus of so much lust.
Ethan pulled her to her feet and rubbed the cum into her chest and between her breasts as he kissed her, forcing her mouth wide open with his tongue. She moaned against his lips as Jonathan slapped her ass, and she could feel him rubbing some of the cum into her cheeks too, his still-stiff cock probing her from behind until she squirmed. Steve thrust his hand between her legs when Jonathan pulled away, and made a low, appreciative sound.
“So fucking wet, you guys. She’s so wet.”
They all had to grope her then, six hands’ worth of fingers sliding under her thong, through her pussy juices and up over her clit. She arched as one of them pulled her thong up between her pussy lips, against her clit. She rose up on her toes, trying to grind against the contact.
“She loves it,” said Ethan. “She’s so into this.”
“I told you she’d love it,” said Jonathan. He ran his fingers over the lacy tops of her stockings. “Now, girl, down. All the way down.”
She was forced to her knees again, then forward. She knew what was expected. She spread her thighs and rested her forehead against the floor. Feet moved around her as she squeezed her eyes shut. They’d all experimented with spanking her because she loved it so much. Now all three of them were arguing about who would go first, and who would use what.
She closed her hands into fists, glad her wrists were bound behind her. Otherwise she’d try to sit up or fend the upcoming blows away. Her only warning that punishment was imminent was a hand brushing over the small of her back, across her garter belt, and then down over her buttocks.
Ah, God, the first strike came, and they’d chosen a damn paddle. It was loud and wide, and it hurt. She clenched her cheeks and lifted her head from the floor, but she was forced back down by Jonathan. Someone else was paddling her, then. Ow, ow, ow. Steve, probably. The paddle felt smooth, but the sting was acute and sharp. The club probably provided Lucite paddles, since those could be sanitized more easily than wood. Lucite sure as hell wasn’t easier on her ass. She was glad Steve only gave her ten whacks.