She wanted to close her eyes, as if doing so would make it possible for her to anchor herself in the spinning, wild world of sensations that she found herself. She could not, however, take her gaze away from Dr. Doyle’s simmering stare, for he was devouring her with his own eyes and held her captive with whatever burned behind them.
His shirt fell away to reveal his smooth skin and the contours of the sculpted muscles beneath his chest and abdomen. Lina blushed, for she had never gazed upon a man so brazenly, and yet she could not take her eyes away. She could not know why, but she enjoyed the sight of him, however inappropriate it might be. She could not be sure what Dr. Doyle had in store for her, why he and Mr. Blackstone were acting together to stir her into this delirious state. She only knew that, however wrong it might be, the feeling that clawed at her from the inside was drawing out all reason or protest, and she could only comply with whatever they seemed to want of her.
Mr. Blackstone’s fingers moved over her shoulders and nimbly along the buttoned bodice of her dress, pulling the loops from the hooks with slow deliberation. Each soft sound of the loops releasing drove the cool spike of desire into her belly further, and she could feel longing and anticipation making her cunny wet, making her bottom squeeze the object inside of her, making her pulse race and her chest tighten.
Dr. Doyle removed his trousers, still holding her in his burning gaze. She held her eyes rigidly upon his face, forcing them not to wander to take in the things below his bare chest. But Mr. Blackstone’s lips were close to her ear, sending another ripple of pleasure sliding down her neck like a droplet of water. “Do not be afraid to look at Dr. Doyle, and look at his prick, for he wants you to take pleasure from his body the same way we will take pleasure from yours.”
We.
Lina again found her lips parting, thousands of words at the tip of her tongue: questions, proclamations, worries, protestations. But no words left her mouth, only a puff of air, for she could not retain a thought in her head long enough to form them. Mr. Blackstone’s fingers were traveling down her bare back, lightly tracing the curve of her spine, coming to the lowest part of her back where the round of her bottom began, and they continued, into the fabric of the dress, between her buttocks. She ached for him to press upon the knob between her cheeks, to make the object inside of her bruise her tender flesh in any direction, but he did not. His fingers moved back up her spine and to the parted folds of the dress, which he slipped from her shoulders so that the material peeled away as one would peel a tropical fruit, and her bare torso was exposed to Dr. Doyle.
Shamefully, as Mr. Blackstone aroused her so, her eyes had drifted to Dr. Doyle’s manhood. It, like the objects in Mr. Blackstone’s dungeon-like room, was long and smooth, with a ridge at the end of it, and the curious hole she had felt with her tongue when Mr. Blackstone had put his cock in her mouth. But it pulsed, and seemed to grow before her, and was made of flesh, not a cold stone. She remembered what it felt like to have Mr. Blackstone’s prick inside of her, hard and hot, and a liquid poured from between her legs, trickling down the insides of her thighs.
Mr. Blackstone peeled the rest of the dress from her body, taking her drawers with it, but quickly caught her wrists as he stood up behind her. His lips closed on her skin again, on her neck, just above her left shoulder, and her eyes felt too heavy to keep open. A murmur fluttered in her throat; she could not stop it.
Dr. Doyle climbed onto the bed, still watching her. Mr. Blackstone’s hands moved over her chest, cupping her breasts, rubbing a thumb over her erect nipples. The feeling of his fingers on her nipples seemed connected, as if by an internal string, to the pulsing cunny between her legs, especially that button that made her jerk so wildly. She craved his touch there, but he instead rolled her hardened nipples in his fingers, held up her bounty for Dr. Doyle to watch, sitting upright on the bed, his prick full and pointed straight above his lap.
Mr. Blackstone was moving her forward all this while, so slowly she did not realize they were moving until her thighs brushed against the bed, so transfixed was she by the scene before her and the feel of his fingers.
“Go to him, my pet,” Mr. Blackstone breathed against her neck, just as Dr. Doyle held out his hands to take her wrists, which Mr. Blackstone lifted toward him as if choreographed. Lina could not have willed her body to do anything but what they wanted it to do, even if she had been able to think of such an idea. Her arms went limply to Dr. Doyle, who encircled her wrists and pulled her onto the bed, rising up to meet her mouth with his.
Dr. Doyle’s hands moved down her arms, as tenderly as Mr. Blackstone’s had, guiding her to be situated atop his lap. She could feel his male part against the insides of her thighs, but her thoughts were pulled to Dr. Doyle’s kiss: his lips were soft, dry, and warm. His tongue pushed insistently into her mouth, and her body melted as he kissed her. It was the only thing she could think of until he pulled away from her mouth, her lips gently nabbed between his teeth. He met her eyes, and kissed her again, pressing the small of her back so that her naked body was against his hot skin and hard muscle.
He moved a hand between her legs, brushing over her cunny, a finger sliding into her slippery folds and over the nub, making her body buck against him. He held her in place, curling a finger up inside of her and pulling her gently toward him, so that a terrifyingly pleasant ache held her steady against his chest as his mouth moved insistently over hers.
“I am going to put my prick inside you now, Carolina,” he breathed, with his lips very close to hers. “And then we are going to take you together, and claim you as our own.”
Lina’s eyes went wide. “But—” she murmured, but Dr. Doyle kissed her, and she could feel his smile on her lips as he did.
“You will do fine,” Dr. Doyle breathed. “You will be a very good girl and take us both. You’re doing very nicely, Carolina, and we will be gentle if you submit yourself completely. Will you do that, Carolina? Submit to your masters and allow us to pleasure ourselves and spend in your pretty cunny and your little bottom?”
Lina found her mouth open again but unable to form the words. Dr. Doyle had made the coiled ache in her belly tighten so that she felt as though she might burst. She knew that she must say it, that she must submit, but a flash of fear gripped her as she imagined the two men inside of her.
“B...bbboth... of you?” she whispered weakly. Her head was already moving side to side, very tremulously. “It’s... too much,” she whispered. “Is it not? You will be... too big...”
Behind her, as she spoke, she could hear in the trembling pauses of her voice that Mr. Blackstone was removing his clothing. He, too, would be naked, and she longed to look at his body as she had Dr. Doyle’s, and to see his manhood, to feel it...
Dr. Doyle brushed his thumb over Lina’s lower lip. “We will be very gentle with you, Carolina. Perhaps later, when you have been trained, we shall take you however the mood strikes us, but you will desire to please us and your submission will bring you your own pleasure. As it already has. Now tell me, will you be a good girl and submit to your masters at last, so we may claim you as our own?”
Mr. Blackstone was behind her on the bed now; she felt his weight shift behind her. His hands gripped her gently at her ribcage, then slid down to her hips, his thumbs into the valley between her buttocks, until they nudged the object in her bottom.
Lina mewled and closed her eyes. Dr. Doyle’s mouth closed around her right nipple, a wet heat that made her body shiver.
“You must say the words, Lina,” Mr. Blackstone breathed near her ear. “Say that you will submit to being taken.”
Lina heard herself as though from far away. “I submit to being taken,” she mewled. “By my masters.”
“Sir,” Mr. Blackstone prodded, and she thought she heard a smile in his usually stern voice. She could certainly feel Dr. Doyle’s lips as his expression changed.
“Sir,” Lina breathed.
She could not know whose hands did what next, for there were four of them and they seemed to move in concert. Hands pushed her thighs apart, hands moved into her hair making it tumble from the carefully arranged style, and hands pulled her locks firmly as Dr. Doyle’s mouth claimed hers again. Hands cupped her breasts, fingers moved over the object in her bottom, and then she was lifted by hands and pushed against Dr. Doyle’s chest as his manhood was guided to her cunny.
He swallowed the sound she made as his thick member slid into her body, hot and firm, pressing against her, filling her up. The hand on the back of her head lifted her gently, but she wanted to move, and so she rose and then fell, riding the thick column between her legs, her mewling sucked into Dr. Doyle’s mouth.
His body moved beneath her, while his hand on her back pressed her to him, and then they were sliding until they were horizontal on the bed. She could feel Mr. Blackstone’s hands, parting her legs, moving the object in her bottom. As it rolled inside of her, it pressed against the throbbing heat of Dr. Doyle’s cock, and she squirmed but could not move, for she was pressed against him by one of those strong hands that held her in place.
The ache between her legs was building, and Dr. Doyle moved her so that the place between her legs that gave her so much pleasure was squeezed again and again, and she could feel herself very nearly going over that cliff of pleasure.
