Kenny cupped the back of her head, caressed it, and removed his hand.
A sign he wanted more. If this wasn’t a test, he’d have taken over. She increased her speed, slamming down on him, bobbing faster. Harder.
Silas groaned and came with a muttered curse, fingers bruising her hips as he slammed in one last time, driving so deep the jolt nearly knocked her off rhythm, but she held steady and kept working. Stayed on task for both Kenny and Boone.
Finally, Kenny said, “Excellent work. Last round.”
She didn’t hesitate. No chalk marks going into the last position. Not a single fucking one.
She mounted Kenny with aching grace, guided him into her slick cunt, and began to ride him, slow at first. Deep. Controlled. Every downward push of her thighs lit muscles already shredded from overuse, but she breathed through it and focused.
Boone moved closer, still hard. She reached for him, wrapped her hand around his girth, and stroked with the mental discipline of an obedient, well-trained fucktoy. He was too fat for her fingers to meet, so she twisted her grip as she moved up and down. Her forearm screamed and her wrist strained to keep moving, keep twisting, but this was about his pleasure, not her fatigue. This was service and obedience.
Silas crouched in front of her with an evil set of clamps and a wicked gleam in his eye. She yelped and gasped when he snapped them on, but she didn’t break her rhythm.
Boone’s cock swelled in her hand, and she adjusted instantly with more twist, more of a slam, a little tighter around the base but not the head. Her arm was dying, but she didn’t let it matter.
Silas twisted the clamps, metal teeth on sensitive flesh, and pain ripped through her chest like lightning. Her breath stuttered, but she kept moving.
Up, down, grind, grip, stroke, twist, breathe, focus.
Obey.
Silas yanked a clamp off and slapped her tit. Her body jolted, cunt tightening around Kenny, but she forced the rhythm to hold.
“Harder,” Kenny said. “Faster. Squeeze your cunt muscles. Milk my fucking cock.”
Her thighs trembled from the effort, but she drove down harder, clenched tight around him, riding his cock like an obedient fucktoy desperate to prove she could perform exactly as expected, and she worked her cunt muscles in perfect rhythm.
Silas twisted the remaining clamp again and white-hot pain shot through her nerves, but she didn’t stop moving. She worked her legs, her hips, her cunt, her arm, her wrist, her fucking fingers.
Boone made a guttural sound and spilled, come spurting off the bed onto the floor, but she kept stroking until he moved away.
She adjusted her weight, propped her upper body better, and fucked herself harder on Kenny’s cock. Her own pleasure was a firestorm between her legs, but she forced it down.
Her cunt clenched. Her thighs trembled. She wanted to come. God, she wanted to come, but the only thing that mattered in this moment was Kenny’s pleasure and keeping her breasts available for Silas to torment.
Silas yanked the clamp off and immediately closed the biting teeth back around both bruised nipples with a cruel snap. He pulled, twisted, and then slapped her breasts a half-dozen times, hard enough to make her vision blur.
She screamed and gasped at his ruthless treatment, but she rode Kenny’s cock without faltering.
“Look at that,” Silas said, mock-pride in his voice. “Our little mare’s finally broken to saddle.”
She didn’t respond. Moved faster.
Finally, Kenny groaned beneath her. His hips snapped up once, twice, then held. She slowed her thrusts, milking him with her inner muscles until he pressed down on her hips, telling her to stop.
Only then did she let herself collapse against his chest, gasping, sweat running down her spine, and Silas leaned in to kiss her cheek and take the clamps off her nipples. “What a good little pleasure whore our little cumbucket is turning into.”
Kenny kissed her shoulder from behind and told her, “You’ve never been allowed to come during training, but you’ve earned it. On your back, talented little fucktoy.”
Speechless, she obeyed. Kenny knew how to pull orgasms from her even when she doesn’t have permission, and tonight, she had a freebie.
And it’d beendayssince she’d been allowed to come.
Kenny leaned over her where she lay spread on the bed and buried two fingers in her. Three. Moved them in slow, devastating circles until she thought she’d go mad.
“Do I need permission, Sir?”
