She sniffles beneath me, but she doesn’t ask me to stop because she doesn’t fucking want me to. She asked for this, every bit of it,and in spite of her little complaints and sobs, she is arching her hips up like a sacrifice. Our sweet girl needs punishment.
I make sure she gets it.
I fuck her long and hard, making sure that her ass is taking all of me.
“What a mess you are,” I tell her. “Your ass is soaked with cum. Your pussy is dripping with need. And you’re still trying so hard to get yourself fucked, aren’t you?”
She moans something that doesn’t make any sense and I roll over so we are both on our side. This lets me access that greedy little pussy. I want her to be crying with pleasure when I come. I want this to be the most intensely sexual moment of her life.
I reach around and start to tap and strum her clit while I continue to plunder her ass. I want her to experience pleasure in the midst of the shameful conquest. I want her to remember how much her body enjoys being handled this way, how her guilt being transformed to innocence felt so incredibly good.
“Oh, my god! Leo! Fuck! Leo!”
“Look at her,” Luke says. “She looks so fucking hot like this.”
“Yes,” Aiden agrees. “You look good like this, sweetheart. You’ve never looked better than you do now, with your ass being punish-fucked and your pussy begging for cum. What a filthy little girl you are.”
Their words push her over what remained of the edge. She starts coming again, and this time it’s even more intense. Her orgasm is primal and brutal. I hold her through every raging, shaking, wailing part of it. She is trembling from head to toe as thiscathartic release takes place, all that guilt, shame, fear leaving her body in one powerful orgasm.
I come too, finally allowing myself release inside the dark chalice of her punished ass. I let my pleasure flow through me as hers starts to abate. I thrust and I rut and I hold her on my cock until every single drop is deep inside her body, joining the seed of my brothers.
Afterwards, she is quiet. There’s nothing for her to say. She mumbles a few words and snuggles up into my arms, silently begging to be held and cared for.
On the aftermath of my orgasm, I feel a wave of tenderness. What a very good girl she is. I tell her as much in soft tones as I carry her first to the bathroom to wash her off in the bath, and then to bed, where she sleeps for almost eighteen hours straight. Luke keeps checking on her, over and over, as if he’s worried something terrible has befallen her.
“Let her rest,” I tell him. “She’s sleeping.”
“Did we go too far?”
A couple of hours later, Luke’s anxiety is getting the best of him. He’s worried we went too far. He’s concerned about Ella. But more than that, I think he’s considering the consequences to his own soul. I think he enjoyed punishing her a lot more than he wanted to. The apple never falls all that far from the tree.
“We barely did anything to her,” Aiden says. “And she loved and needed every moment of it.”
“Oh, my god,” Luke groans. “I’m turning into you two. I’m taking the dog for a walk.”
Ethel tappy-taps while growling ferociously as he gets her lead. She bites him as he attaches it to her little collar. He ignores the pain and takes her out the front door with the same energy he’d have if he was walking a German Shepherd.
Aiden and I sleep with her that night, keeping her guarded between our bodies. She barely stirs, she is so exhausted and worn out from our use. In the morning, we leave her sleeping and go down to make breakfast.
There is a new energy in the air, a sense of relief and renewal. Luke looks nervous still, but that’s because he’s far too soft.
“Is she okay?” he asks. “Is she very sore after yesterday?”
“She’s sleeping.”
“Is it normal to sleep so long?”
Fortunately for us, Ella herself soon answers the question. “You can stop freaking out,” she yawns. “I’m fine.”
She has padded down the stairs in pajamas and slippers and is looking absolutely adorable. I have a mental flash of what she looked like crouched and spread and stretched between us. That filthy memory will stay with me for the rest of my life, I am sure.
Luke jumps up. “Let me make you breakfast.”
Ella
I let him make me pancakes, because I fucking love pancakes. And, if I’m to be very honest with myself, I fucking love Luke. There’s just something about his earnestness. I didn’t like it at first. It made it hard for me to respect him because I thought his softness was weakness. It’s not.
“Are you okay?” He asks the question with his back to me, his arms rippling while he prepares to serve me.
