They adored my surrender, fulfilled my needs, loving the way I opened for Amiyah, letting her see the softest, filthiest parts of me. It wasn’t just submission—it was devotion. In their hands, I was whole, and I worshipped them both for that mercy.
Calla’s hips rolled slowly at first, her movements deliberate, like she was feeding scripture into my body. Amiyah slid off my dick and got on her knees as she began to grind on my face. I felt Calla’s hand wrap around my throat, not to choke, but to command stillness. “You take this dick like it’s the only thing that’s ever touched you, right?” she growled. The sting of her other palm cracked across my thigh, sending fire through my nerves. “You ache for the hurt, don’t you, baby?” she purred.
“Yes, Mistress,” I gasped, barely audible, my thighs trembling.
“Say it again,” she demanded, thrusting deeper. “Tell me how much you love when I split you open.”
“I love it,” I moaned. “I love when you use me, when you break me. I need it. I need you.”
Amiyah whimpered again as she watched my dick jerk every time Calla stroked into me. God, the sound of her pleasure, the fact that she was watching me like this, watching Calla fuck the fight out of me, it made everything more intense. I felt exposed and worshipped at the same time.
Mistress leaned forward, the sounds of her kissing Amiyah permeating the room. “See, Princess, he’s my good little toy,” she whispered. “Always begging, always open, always so fucking grateful to be filled. No one else gets this part of him, only me.”
Her words hit harder than the thrusts. Shame and pride clashed in my chest, blooming into raw need.
“You like being my filthy boy,” she said, her tone dripping with wicked affection. “You want Amiyah to see how good you are at being used.”
I continued to tongue fuck Amiyah’s pussy, making my way to her asshole as I pushed my stiff tongue inside. “You’re so fucking nasty, Baby, mmmmm I fucking love it. Your tongue in my ass and Mistress in yours,” she whispered. “Let her wreck you.”
“Yes, Princess,” I panted. “I want to be wrecked. I want you both to see what I am.”
Calla moaned as she thrust deeper, grinding into me, her rhythm ruthless now, unrelenting. Every inch of me ached in the best way, stretched and claimed. My dick was rock hard, leaking, and twitching.
“You don’t come until I say,” she snapped.
“I won’t, Mistress,” I promised, even as I trembled on the edge.
She squeezedmy shaft with a grip that made me cry out. “You’re dripping,” she murmured. “Such a mess. Such a perfect fucking mess.”
I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t think.
Mistress grabbed Amiyah gently, hands on her hips, and guided her rhythm, pulling her back down on my dick with every thrust she gave me.
“You’re both my good babies,” she whispered. “But tonight, he’s the one breaking for us.”
And I did, and I never wanted to stop.
“Please,” Amiyah begged, her voice trembling, thighs shaking as she rode me with desperation painted across her face.
Calla reached forward, cupping Amiyah’s chin. “You’ve been patient, haven’t you?” she murmured. “Watched me break him for you. Felt every thrust through the way he moaned. You want to come now, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Amiyah gasped, barely able to form the words.
“You have permission. Let go, I want to hear you scream.”
Amiyah’s body seized, her hips stuttering, her head dropping forward as a cry tore from her throat. She clung to me, her walls pulsing around my dick as she shuddered through the waves of her release. I could feel every contraction, every flutter, and it nearly broke me.
She collapsed against my chest, panting and pliant, lips brushing my collarbone. Her warmth blanketed me, her scent mingling with sweat and surrender. But Mistress wasn’t done.
“Move,” Calla ordered gently, and Amiyah nodded, kissing my jaw before rolling to theside with a satisfied sigh.
Mistress climbed over me with slow, deliberate grace, her harness shining even in the low light. She took Amiyah’s place, straddling me like the queen she was. Her fingers curled beneath my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze.
“Good boys don’t come until they’ve made Mistress come,” she purred.
“Yes, Mistress,” I rasped, almost shaking.
“Then make me come,” she commanded, her voice like velvet and fire. “Reach down, stroke me, show me how much you love being used.”
