Her fingers involuntarily flexed, the nerve endings in her palms and fingers ragged and oversensitized. Punished into obedience.
The Perifit was insult stacked on injury, stretched past reason, broken open by pain, then forced to squeeze and clench those same ruined muscles until they trembled.
“Good girl,” he said when time was up, and the praise still managed to warm her even through the soreness.
Boone unstrapped the nailboards and carefully peeled her raw palms and fingers off the sharpened points. She hissed through her teeth as the steel tore free, nerves screaming with renewed intensity as air touched the inflamed and chastened flesh beneath.
Finally, he unclipped her wrists and ankles, the cuffs falling heavy against her skin, and then lifted her out of the sling like she weighed nothing. Her thighs still trembled from the strain, and she sagged into his chest as he carried her through the doorway into her bedroom, straight into the bathroom.
He set her down on the toilet, his palm steady between her shoulder blades while she leaned forward to pee. Even that made her whimper — every muscle between her legs was swollen and tender, still echoing the shape of his hand.
When she was done, he wiped her carefully with a cool, damp cloth, the touch efficient but not unkind, then scooped her back up.
In her room, Silas was already in bed, propped against the headboard, bare chest gleaming in the low light. His eyes swept her from head to toe before Boone stood her on the medallion and gave her permission to get into bed.
“Kenny’s dealing with a wayward wolf,” Silas said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp while she crawled towards him. “He’ll be along shortly.”
“Who?” Boone asked.
“Crystal. Letting that whole clique in was a mistake.”
Crystal was part of Misty’s crew, and Willow was inclined to agree with Silas.
“Probably,” Kenny’s voice came from the doorway, and Willow stopped crawling and turned to look at him, shifting her weight off her sore hands, a constant throb where the nails had been, each press into the mattress making the nerves flare.
He stepped in, pulling his shirt off as he walked. “But if I can turn them into respectable wolves, I should at least try. We don’t want them landing in a bad pack and being allowed to do bad things.”
“Our little fleshlight has had in the neighborhood of eight orgasms,” Boone said. “Maybe six. Hard to tell where a few of them ended and the next began.”
“It’s a start,” Kenny said. He took his shoes off, dropped his jeans, and climbed into bed, pulling her into the heat of his embrace, his mouth finding hers while Silas slid in behind her.
The bed dipped as Silas shifted, his palm sliding down her butt, lower, until his fingers found the plug, tossed it to the floor beside the bed.
She gasped into Kenny’s mouth, her body betraying her, arching even as her thighs tried to close. Her hands clenched at the bedding before memory and pain forced them flat, the ghost of steel tips still burning in her skin.
And then he was spreading her legs again. She whimpered, low and rough as his cock pressed into her battered cunt, stretching her raw, sore muscles open all over again.
Behind her, Silas didn’t wait. He lined up and drove into her asshole with deliberate force, no concern for how sore their fucktoy was, only that she was there, with holes available to be filled and used.
Her body seized between them, her cunt burning with each inch Kenny claimed, her ass locking tight around Silas’s cock, the pain white-hot and punishing.
“Fuck,” Kenny muttered, his voice thick. “Hot little cunt. Gonna get my rocks off one last time before we lose the fucktoy for a week.”
She let out a sob that wasn’t all pain, but some protective shell inside her cracking at his words.
They would miss her.They wouldn’t say it with flowers or soft goodbyes. They said it with use. With heat and pressure and hands holding her down like she belonged there.
The sex wasn’t brutal, nothing like Boone’s damned hand, no single-minded stretch and burn — but it was relentless in its own way. Silas’s arm locked around her chest, holding her tight to him, while Kenny drove deep into her cunt, thrust for thrust with the cock in her ass.
And both holes were so fucking sore, she wept through it from the start. Her back pressed into Silas’s chest with every movement, his breath hot at her neck, his cock filling her like he’d never get another chance, pounding her with zero mercy.
Silas’s hand came to her throat, squeezing just enough to make her lungs work harder for air. “Fight for it,” he murmured, “and remember who fucking owns you.”
“Permission!” she barely got it out, fighting for breath, but it was enough, and Kenny said, “Granted.”
The orgasm slammed through her like a breaking wave, drowning her in heat and ache and unbearable relief. Her sounds fractured, breath shattering against the grip at her throat.
They didn’t stop. They kept her pinned, using her until her body was nothing but clenching heat and overstretched muscle, until every nerve remembered the shape of them.
