I like hearing them describe exactly what they'd do if given permission.
And, if the unmasked man gave them permission… I would like them to do that stuff to me.
The minutes tick by.
I wait.
And wait.
And wait.
The voices continue their commentary, growing filthier with each passing moment. Describing double penetration. Describing how they'd use my holes in rotation. Describing how they'd make me service all three of them at once until I'm nothing but a wet, used mess.
My clit throbs.
My body betrays me.
The arch of my spine lifts my breasts higher, pulls the collar tighter against my windpipe until each breath requires effort. My ankles strain inward against the magnetic cuffs, muscles burning with the useless need to close my thighs and create friction. My wrists twist in their restraints, skin rubbing raw as I reach instinctively for my own pussy—knowing I can't touch, knowing it's pointless, unable to stop trying.
The ache between my legs has become unbearable.
I want them to touch me.
To fuck me. To do the things they're describing.
I'm pathetic.
I know I'm pathetic.
But I can't stop wanting it.
Movement in the jungle behind me makes me startle.
My heart slams against my ribs.
Is it him? Is the unmasked man finally here?
I can't turn my head to look. The collar holds me facing forward. I can only listen to the footsteps approaching through the undergrowth, growing louder as whoever it is gets closer.
The voices around me go silent.
Footsteps stop directly behind the cross.
Behindme.
I hold my breath.
Large, rough hands slide over my hips from behind, gripping my flesh with enough pressure that I feel claimed. Owned. The calluses on his palms scrape against my skin as he runs his hands up my sides, over my ribcage, then cups my breasts from behind and squeezes hard enough to make me gasp.
His body presses against my back.
I feel the heat of him through the thin layer of air between us.
His cock—thick and hard—presses against my hip through what feels like fabric. He's not naked like I am.
One hand leaves my breast and slides down my stomach. Lower. His fingers find my pussy and push inside me without hesitation. Two fingers. Maybe three. I can't tell. I'm so wet he encounters no resistance.
"Good girl," he murmurs against my ear. "You waited."
