Boone’s large hands spread her legs farther apart. Silas pressed her back down several inches so her spine curved, her ass poked higher in the air, her breasts hung free.
Kenny’s presence loomed at her head, his belt still gone, the sound of a zipper making his intentions clear.
Without a word, Boone’s fingers found her nipples again, and then the sharp snap of pressure as something bit down on it. She hissed and arched her back up, instantly recognizing the vicious potato chip clip.
“Hold still,” Boone ordered. He snapped the other one on and then used fingers and thumb to mercilessly squeeze both clips directly over her nipples, making them bite deeper. “Bow your back up again and we’ll use a strap to hold it down.”
Silas crouched low behind her, and a cold bite clamped onto the tender skin at the top of her inner thigh — not a chip clip this time, something thicker. Metal.
She looked down between her legs and saw him screwing a heavy, industrial-looking C-clamp onto her thigh.
“Had this in the truck,” he said, tightening it until she squirmed. “Didn’t bring it for this, but fuck if it isn’t perfect.”
Her breath stuttered. The pressure went deep — more crushing than pinching, heated agony blooming all the way into the muscle. She made a low groan, struggling to accept the pain on a non-erogenous zone.
Fuck, it hurt deep. She sucked air in, blew it out.
“Look at that,” Silas said softly, almost admiringly. “Fighting the pain. Trying to take it. Right on the edge of the two. You going to accept it, girly? Or are you going to fight it the whole time?”
He cranked it a little tighter.
“Stays on, either way.”
Kenny’s hand cupped the back of her head with one hand, tilted it up by her ponytail with the other. “Open.”
She obeyed, the taste of him immediate as he pushed between her lips, filling her mouth, the thick heat of his cock brushing her tongue before sliding deep.
Silas stood behind her, his hands firm on her hips, lining himself up with her pussy. The cushion under her knees was a welcome kindness as he pressed into her, the invasion slow enough to make every penetrating inch count.
Anddamn, that clamp was intense, biting into the muscle, compressing it.
Boone stayed between them, crouched to keep working her nipples, pulling the clips, opening them and rotating them a quarter turn to smash her super-sensitive bits from a different angle. The pinches and twists sent jagged sparks through her chest that met the stretch of Kenny’s cock in her throat and the friction and heat of Silas in her pussy.
And all the while, the clamp throbbed at her thigh, steady and deep. A constant reminder of Silas, of the bruising pain he’d inflicted simply for the sake of doing so, and of what it meant that she’d accepted it without protest and wasn’t begging for relief.
Kenny’s rapid pace set the rhythm, each claiming drive into her throat matched by Silas thrusting into her from behind, and Boone reinforced the beat with every squeeze, pull, and slap to her breasts.
Kenny went deep enough to make her gag at times, then fucked her face some more,justbefore he hit her gag reflex.
Three men. Three sensations. Too much to track. Too much to process.
She didn’t want it to stop, but she couldn’t handle it.
She didn’t have a choice, though. No way infuckwas she giving the safewordorsafe signal they’d worked out.
They didn’t speak, but when Silas pulled out and left the room, Boone abandoned her tits with the chip clips still on them and moved behind her. The loss of pressure in her pussy left her clenching at nothing. The clamp still locked tight around her thigh throbbed more. Hot and bruising.There.
She heard a belt unbuckle, a zipper, and then Boone’s cock was at her entrance, and she gasped and then tried to yelp around the cock in her throat.
She needed to know how fucking big the dick spreading her open was. How much wider he was going to spread her.
His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place. Kenny’s grip on the back of her head intensified, allowing her to fight them a little, fear and pain taking hold, but they held her in place while Boone pressed himself into her.
Her eyes watered, her throat tightening around Kenny as Boone inched deeper, the slow, relentless pressure forcing her pussy to stretch and distend.
And beneath it all, the clamp crushed into the muscle, a counterpoint to everything else — not sexual, not rhythmic, justthere. Still.
Every muscle between her hips wanted to clamp down, but there was nowhere to go, no way to close.
