“Are you ready to be fucked?” Sebastian asks.
“Y-yes, Master.”
“By both of us? Are you ready to take both of us, together?”
My face flames, but I say, “Yes, Master.”
“Good girl.”
The finger is withdrawn, and one of them helps me to stand. He leads me to the bedroom. I hear zippers and clothes hitting the floor.
“Straddle and ride me,” Sebastian orders.
He's lying on the bed. My knees are on either side of him. I let out a gasp of pleasure as I lower myself onto his thick, hardened cock. I forgot he was this big. He gives me time to adjust.
“Fuck,” he says. But it isn't an expression of pleasure. It's a command.
I obey, raising and lowering myself on him. I've forgotten for a moment about Morgan, until I feel him licking the cane welts on my ass.
“Poor little rabbit,” he says. He rubs a soothing balm over the marks as I continue to ride Sebastian.
A few moments later, I feel cold lubed metal being worked inside my ass. “Open for me,” Morgan orders. “It's going to be my dick in a minute.”
I try to relax as he pushes the toy inside me. The double-penetration of the toy in my ass and Sebastian in my pussy is overwhelming in a way that erases all logical thought. Every doubt and fear fades away in this moment. Every protest of what I can and cannot do evaporates in the sheer visceral power of this moment.
Morgan removes the toy, and then it's his lubed cock sliding inside my ass. I tense at first because he's so much bigger, and I'm afraid, but he strokes my back and eases in more slowly. Once he gets past the tight band of muscle, he gives me a moment. Both men still, letting me adjust to this fullness, this sense of being completely overtaken by them.
“Are you okay, cupcake?” Sebastian asks, stroking my face.
“Yes, Master.”
He rips the blindfold off, and I'm staring now into his dark, intense eyes, that vicious scar. I reach out and stroke the scar. This time, he doesn't stop me. Then the three of us begin to move together in an intoxicating hypnotic rhythm. I come first, moaning and screaming out my orgasm, not caring that neighbors might hear us.
Sebastian and Morgan come together after me.
“Fuck yes,” Morgan growls behind me.
Morgan pulls out of me first and lifts me off Sebastian. Then we are a tangle of limbs. I lay in the middle. I'm facing Morgan now. He strokes my face, while Sebastian runs his fingertips gently over my cane marks.
Morgan leans forward and kisses me on the mouth, his tongue tangling with mine. Sebastian twists my body, opening my legs wide, and then his mouth is between my legs, his tongue moving inside me. I whimper and writhe, my moans being swallowed up by Morgan's mouth.
Sebastian is relentless, licking and sucking me until another orgasm comes crashing over me. When it's over, I think they'll let me rest, but they only change places. Sebastian moves up to my mouth, letting me taste myself on his tongue, while Morgan's mouth is between my legs drawing out the same agonizing pleasure from my body.
Then they are both ready to fuck me again. This goes on most of the night. I lose track of time of reality and of all the reasons why I was so sure I couldn't do this. It all melts into my moans of pleasure.
Finally, I beg them to stop. I need to rest. I need sleep. Reluctantly, they pull out of me. We sleep together, the three of us in the large bed. And it feels like something very important has shifted. They're right, I belong to them. They won't let me go, but this time I don't want to fly away.
Epilogue
It's opening night of a new season. I stand in the wings before the curtain rises, waiting to go onstage. Sebastian leans close to my ear. “Don't disappoint me, firebird.”
I laugh. “I'm really scared if you don't know which ballet we're doing.”
“Just keeping you on your toes. And the sass ends as soon as we get home. Understand?”
“Y-Yes, Master,” I whisper so the other nearby dancers don't hear. I don't know how he still keeps me on this knife edge of fear and desire. Even as I know who he is. Even as I know I can trust him. I've finally come to accept my life is safe in his hands—in both men's hands.
He leans in again and whispers. “You'll always be my firebird.”
