I gasped as he spread my cheeks. I jerked away and he laughed, skipping what I thought he was going to do. Callahan found my front, and spread my lips, diving hungrily between them.
“Callahan, Daddy, please,” I pleaded. “I’m not ready.”
The fear of possibly being murdered, after having done so myself to my own mother, didn’t create an erotic atmosphere.
“We’ll get you there,” he muttered. “Take her to the bed,” he ordered Riot and pulled away from me. Before I could fight, Riot stood and grabbed my waist from behind. I kicked and fought as he lifted me. He tossed me onto the bed and I leaped back up, trying to make a run for it, but he was faster and stronger than me. He held my wrist tight.
“Here,” Callahan tossed something to Riot. It made a sharp clang as he caught it with his empty hand. He opened his hand and unveiled two sets of metal handcuffs.
Oh no.
Riot grinned wickedly. I stared into his eyes. They didn’t seem to be the ones I’d grown familiar with. There was something else there, someone else in charge. My Riot would never be this cruel.
He dragged me back onto the bed and to the headboard. I kicked him, but the monster inside him didn’t register my fight. He continued on, locking me to the posts, spreading my arms wide to the point of pain.
“Please, whatever your plan is, just kill me. Don’t make me suffer.”
He ignored me and returned to Callahan. Callahan seemed to know what he was looking for in the suitcase. I watched, my body and mind in pain, as he loaded a syringe with something, and turned to the bed.
My eyes flicked behind the men. Myrtle hung on the wall, taunting me.
I’d killed her, yes, but now I was going to suffer because of it. The murderous looks in their eyes told me so.
Riot and Callahan came to the bed, one went to the left, the other took the right, surrounding me. I wanted to laugh. What did they think I would do, handcuffed to the bed? I couldn’t run.
“This will relax you,” he said, and before I could protest, he stuck me in the arm with the needle. I screamed but it was quickly silenced as warmth flooded through my body, up my arms and down my shoulders, tingling my breasts, my belly, and lingering between my thighs.
Oh.
The men shared a look and smiled. My eyes grew heavy, and I shut them. The sound of them removing their belts and clothes roused me some, but it was as if I’d been giving warm milk and a soft, heavy blanket.
Was this their gift? That I’d die painlessly?
I felt my legs being lifted, my shoes and socks were removed. My panties were long gone. One of the men moved between them and parted me wide.
“You’re so beautiful, Eleanor. We don’t want to hurt you, but we can’t stop this,” Callahan told me. It was him between my legs.
“Stop what?” I asked, my voice dizzy. I felt breath on my pussy before his tongue ran down my slit. He parted me and began his seduction of my body. Despite protesting my lack of desire, my body betrayed me. I was wet in an instant and he lapped it up, sending me spiraling.
I moaned, as the heat flooded through me, a constant source of pleasure. While Callahan focused on my pussy, Riot massaged my breasts over my dress.
“Is she ready?” Riot asked. Callahan pushed a finger inside and I gasped, writhing in pleasure.
“Oh yeah.” He pulled back, and crawled closer. I felt his hips against mine as he lined up his cock with my entrance. He slid in and, barely giving me a chance to adjust, began to thrust hard and fast. I cried out in pain as I was stretched and pummeled. The drug was stopping it from hurting too much, but the moment it wore off, I feared how I’d feel.
Was he going to fuck me to death? Split me in two? Was he trying to puncture one of my organs?
He was going so deep, I couldn’t take it.
I cried but I couldn’t fight. My muscles were too relaxed. I felt my body explode with orgasm, but I couldn’t do much past arch my back and let it happen.
“Good girl,” Callahan groaned as he spilled his seed into me.
I barely had a chance to rest before he was pulling out and Riot was taking his place. They didn’t bother to clean me up before he slid in and started the same harsh, violent rhythm that Callahan had done.
This was the drug. They had no control. They didn’t want to do this.
I told myself over and over again as one would finish and the other took his place, over and over.
