I taste myself on his hands, sweet, acidic, and primal. He fucks my mouth with his fingers the way he did my pussy, and I have to fight the urge to gag.
“Do you like the taste of your cunt, little one? Do you like to lick clean the cream that came from having that hot little snatch beaten?”
I try to nod, but it forces his fingers in deeper.
“That’s it, my greedy little whore. Suck.”
I work his fingers like I would his cock. He groans. A beat later I hear the unmistakable sound of a fly being unfastened, and his fingers leave my mouth. The soft kiss of flesh at my lips tells me he plans to replace his fingers with his cock. Like a good little whore, I open. He drives in mercilessly, but all too soon slides out again. Warm hands wrap under my arms, dragging me up the table so he can tilt my head back. He’s done this before, of course, usually on my bed, and sometimes in the bathroom against the tub. The position opens my throat, gives him better access to fuck me without mercy. I swallow hard and steel my nerves. It’s going to hurt. It always does, but I don’t mind taking the pain for him.
Strong fingers encircle the smooth column of my throat, squeezing ever so slightly into my flesh. Sir slaps my cheek with his cock, and I open my mouth. He shoves inside, right to the very back. I can barely breathe.
“Easy, little one.” His words are a gruff whisper, meant for only me. I relish the strain and need in his tone of voice. “Breathe in through your nose, the way I taught you. If you choke on my cock, your ass will be so red you won’t sit for a month.”
I breathe slowly, in and out through my nose as he thrusts in time with my breath. It gets easier, and before long I’m taking more of him, and then he pulls out abruptly, suddenly, and I take the opportunity to gulp in air.
He zips up his fly, and I frown as he moves away. He’s at the end of the table now. I feel his touch on my legs, splaying me open. He repositions me so that my feet are pressed together, sole to sole, my legs butterflied. Something sharp clamps my folds, one side and then the other. Pain, white-hot and searing. My whole pussy clenches. The throbbing becomes a kind of torture all of its own. In the stillness, delicate chains rattle. I cock my head, wondering what he’s doing. I don’t wonder long because the cold bite of metal against my hot flesh slides up my body. Sir slips a clamp on each nipple.
I cry out, and shake my head, but with soothing tones, and gentle stroking along my torso, he shushes me. I’m too afraid to make another sound. He tugs on the little chain and I feel it in my pussy, but also in my nipples and my core too. I whimper, unable to help it. This earns me a sharp slap to the breast. It causes a ripple effect. My breast swings, my nipples pull taut against the clamp, and my pussy jerks with the sensation. I moan. I don’t mean to. I don’t want to give these animals anything to fuel the fantasies in their sick heads, but there’s a reason I don’t shy away from Ares’ touch anymore. Because it always brings pleasure with pain, and I’ve come to crave them both like a drug.
“It’s okay, Pet. You can cry out if you want to.” He rolls the pad of his finger over my clit. I jerk and shudder against him, but he’s careful not to touch me for long. “You can’t hide your excitement from me. You like the idea of all of these gentlemen sitting here, staring at your tight little cunt, wishing they could punish it and make it their own, don’t you?”
His words make me close my legs, but I’m struck with the flogger again. Twice on each leg, until I open them. A sob escapes me.
“Keep your fucking legs open, Pet. I will not tell you again. Next time, I’ll beat your cunt so hard you won’t close them again for a long time.”
“S-sorry, Sir.”
“No talking.” He lashes me again. “The only sounds I want coming from your filthy fucking whore mouth are your moans of ecstasy. Do you understand me?”
I snap my mouth closed, swallow hard, and nod.
“Good girl,” he coos, and then touches me again. Even the barest hint of a caress is too much with my flesh so swollen, and the sound that comes from my throat is pitiful: a moan, a plea, animal and broken. He circles my entrance and shoves two fingers deep inside. I clench around him, desperately trying to milk him for more. “Jesus, such a greedy little cunt.”
He fucks me so hard the only sound in the room is the squelching from my body, and the viciousthud, thud, thudof his thighs against the table. I’m so close to coming, but I know I’ll be punished if I do so without his permission. My mind enters that void space, the one where nothing matters but the pleasure and the pain, and the promise of more of both.
My legs shake uncontrollably. My hips slam against the table with each thrust of his fingers. Blood whooshes in my ears, and all I can feel is the pounding of his hands in time with my heartbeat.
Hard flesh pushes against my lips. He slaps me with his cock when I don’t open immediately.I didn’t hear him move. I’m drunk on pleasure, drunk on pain, and the building need to come. Finally, I part my lips and take him into my mouth deeply. He pushes as far in as my throat will allow, so I’m filled with him, my gag reflex going into overdrive as he grinds the base of his cock against my face.I can’t breathe. I’m going to suffocate.
He’s never gone quite this far before. Sure, he’s always trying to make me gag on it so he can punish me, but this feels more menacing, wrong. I whimper, but the pressure intensifies. He drives in and out a few more times, rough, ungraceful thrusts. His fingers continue to fuck my pussy, hard and unrelenting. My orgasm has peaked and vanished several times, leaving me lost at the edge of the precipice, unable to tumble over into ecstasy. Something feels very wrong, and I don’t understand it, because my Sir is telling me to breathe, he’s stroking my thighs and striking my pussy with the flogger, and filling my mouth.Only his voice comes from the other end of the table. I panic. I choke. The man thrusting into my mouth lets out a groan. The timbre is the same as my Sir’s, but it lacks the music and the deep, growling command of my Dominant.
“Breathe, Pet. He’s almost done.”
I sob, gagging on the appendage in my mouth. I try and shake my head, but Hermes’ hands hold me still as he fucks my mouth. Hot semen spills down my throat, and I have no choice but to swallow.
I want to be sick. I want to scream at the injustice of it, but Ares pinches my clit and I come instead. It’s as unwelcome and involuntary as the oral sex I just performed, but as his brother slides his cock from my mouth and slaps my cheek with it, I come, screaming and sobbing, and begging for more.
It’s the worst kind of betrayal, and I can’t stop crying.
“Such a pretty little mouth,” Hermes says with a ragged exhale.
And then Ares is beside me, his hands soothing my sweat-soaked flesh. I’m torn between wanting to pull away and longing to reach for him. It’s so unfair that I should seek comfort from the man who just destroyed me, who allowed his brother to use me, and these animals to watch.
He strokes my shoulders and whispers, “Shh, Pet, it’s okay. I’m here.”
I sob. I want to scream, to cry and shout, but I have no words. I’m sure I’m not allowed to voice them even if I did.
Ares pulls the clamps off my nipples and rubs the aching flesh with the flat of his hand. They throb as the blood rushes back to them, and the pain is exquisite and raw. And then I almost black out when he leans over and removes the clamps from my labia. Just like with my nipples, he rubs my pussy. It’s not sexual—it’s as if he’s soothing the flesh, helping the blood to flow again.