He positions himself and then slams into her with a single, brutal thrust.
The force of it is so violent that her entire body jolts, and her breasts shudder. Silas has to grip her head to keep his rhythm in her mouth, but we all hear the scream escape her.
Charles laughs, a harsh, grating sound, and slaps the side of her hip. “I can see the attraction now,” he grunts, establishing a fast, punishing pace. “There’s so much to hold onto.”
Grace’s eyes fix on me. I can see the way she’s crying, the way she’s begging for me to put a stop to this. As if I would, as if I could when she looks so fucking magnificent right now.
“You can take it, Pup,” I reassure her. “Just lie back and enjoy this. Enjoy being used.”
She shakes her head as much as Silas allows her to with his cock deepthroating her.
I tut, slipping my hand into my pocket, finding the remote I hoped I wouldn’t need. As I switch it on, I see her body react, I see her tense up just a little and her moan a sound that’s close to regret.
Poor little thing.She really needs to just stop fighting and learn her place.
I push a button again, increasing the vibration. I need her to behave, I need her to chase her pleasure, to think only of that right now.
Be my whore. Be my mindless little slut.
Her body heaves as she kicks out, and I can’t tell if it’s in protest or need. The contrast between the two men using her is a symphony. Silas is a slow, deep cello note in her mouth. Fucking her with a controlled, almost languid rhythm, telling her to “take it slow, sweetheart.” Charles is a violent, percussive drumming between her legs. The conflicting rhythms, the rough hands on her skin, the vile praise and filthy insults while that piercing does it’s work against her clit - it’s a sensory overload that is too much for even her to withstand.
Her orgasm crashes over her with shocking speed. Her body seizes with a silent scream trapped around Silas’s cock, her back arching spectacularly off the bench. Her inner muscles clamp down on Charles, and he curses in pleasure.
“There she goes,” Viktor laughs. “The filthy bitch is coming already.”
“So eager,” Silas mumbles, his pace in her mouth quickening.
I watch, my own arousal a steady, throbbing heat. This is my masterpiece. This is my pet unravelling so prettily, so completely under my command.
When Charles is finished, he pulls out with a wet sound and steps back, grinning like a cheshire cat.
Viktor is already moving. “My turn,” he says, and he doesn’t bother with niceties. He hauls her legs up, bending her almost in half, putting her in a clearly uncomfortable and completely exposed position. He drives into her with a grunt, his thrusts shallow and frantic.
Clearly he is a man chasing his own pleasure, and Grace is merely the vessel.
It is during Viktor’s frantic bucking that Silas finally finds his release. He pulls his cock from her mouth with a pop and, without ceremony, covers her breasts and stomach with thick, white come. The men laugh as it lands on her skin and Grace moans, writhing beneath Viktor, her arousal spiking again as I hit the button on the remote and force her body to yield.
Then, Charles steps forward, laughing and begins to piss on Grace’s stomach and the bench as Viktor continues to fuck her.
The disrespect is not missed but it’s not to Grace, it’s an insult to me. He’s pissing on my property, pissing all over my hospitality.
My jaw tightens. I meet Konstantine’s eyes across the room. He has seen it too, and his expression is unreadable. I say nothing. To protest would be to break the illusion of absolute control, to show that one of my guests can affect me. I store the insult away, a debt to be collected later.
For now I simply watch, my face a neutral mask as the golden stream soaks her skin.
When Viktor is done, he pulls out, panting. The room smells of sex, sweat, and now, the acrid tang of urine.
“Antonio,” Silas says, his eyes gleaming with a new idea. “Can we take her together? Both of us in her cunt?”
Grace hears this, and a flicker of panic returns to her eyes. She starts to shake her head, a weak, “No…” escaping her lips as she tries to scramble away.
I move to her quickly, cupping her face in my hand, forcing her to look at me. She is a mess of tears, spit, and come. Christ, is she beautiful.
“Shhh,” I soothe, my voice dropping to an intimate whisper meant only for her. “You can take it. I have been preparing you for this. Your greedy little cunt was made for this. You want to feel full, don’t you? You want to be my perfect, used little fucktoy.”
I don’t give her a moment to actually answer; I don’t care if she does.
Charles hauls her up, pulling her to the edge of the bench, spreading her legs wide as she tries to pull away. Silas moves to position himself behind Charles, an act of complicated geometry they seem to master quickly in their haste to be inside her. Charles slides his cock back into her well-used cunt, groaning at the tight, slick heat.
