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 couldfeelhis 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 seehis 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 thatwent 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.”
