Or read it in full below.
NSFW. Contains piercing scenes as well as dubcon and sharing
Copyright © Cari Silverwood 2021 of this bonus chapter for His Keepsake.
Reproduction of this content not permitted without written permission from the author.
***
A part of this bonus was written by Sorcha Black, as was the book, up to Chapter 11. We planned to cowrite,
until all the sex got in the way of the plot and we gave up. I redid the words and used the first chapter and a half to begin Warden , a dark omegaverse scifi. Warden then launched into space and became very different.
If you read both, you'll see they both start in the same cafe!
After writing Warden, I realized I might be able to finish His Keepsake.
Thank you for your filthy mind Sorcha Black.
If you haven't read anything by Sorcha all I can say is NAUGHTY!
I highly recommend
(Links go to Amazon)
Cruel Idols
&
Feral King
***
A part of this bonus was written by Sorcha Black, as was the book, up to Chapter 11. We planned to cowrite,
until all the sex got in the way of the plot and we gave up. I redid the words and used the first chapter and a half to begin Warden , a dark omegaverse scifi. Warden then launched into space and became very different.
If you read both, you'll see they both start in the same cafe!
After writing Warden, I realized I might be able to finish His Keepsake.
Thank you for your filthy mind Sorcha Black.
If you haven't read anything by Sorcha all I can say is NAUGHTY!
I highly recommend
(Links go to Amazon)
Cruel Idols
&
Feral King
***
GRAYSON
AT THE MANSION
Axl dropped his toy bag full of kink gear on the polished timber floor. I glanced over to check Emme was where she was supposed to be—kneeling before the roped-off entry into the mezzanine balcony. The cute kitty ears made me smile. Fucking her would be a weird combo of furry sex and taking out an innocent.
The rest of her new long-sleeved cat costume was pure fetish. It had a black leather look with fake white stitching, and anchor points and buckles on the arms and waist. Big-teethed zippers circled her tits, and another ran down the back. Her legs and ass were naked. The best zip went between her legs.
The tattooist’s bandaging added a jarring element where he’d put plastic on her skin over the new ass tattoos. Those marked her as ours. My dragon looked impressive. The demon labelled SATAN was Axl’s ownership symbol.
“I’m never sure she will obey us,” I drawled to him, even as exhilaration kicked in because she was doing precisely what we had told her to do.
“If she doesn’t, we get to do worse to her. Win, win?” He dropped to one knee to unzip and rummage in the toy bag. His unruly brown hair flopped forward, swaying as he peered in, but the crop and dildos, the suture kit, the clover clamps for nipples—for Emme’s nipples—were all visible.
That suture kit gave me ideas. Not eyes, no, that had freaked me out, but elsewhere might be good. The mindfucks in sewing shut her holes called to me.
My balls did their usual trick and tightened at the thought of using those. I imagined myself squeezing the clamps onto her pale pink areolas then watching her wince and yelp, and seeing that exquisite awareness of her plight wash over her. Pleasure, pain, and a sadist making her take it. Making her come…
I cleared my throat.
“Exactly.” A waiter went by bearing a platter of entrées. I grabbed three and wolfed them down. Salmon on crackers with black caviar? It was probably more sophisticated than that, but my stomach didn’t care. “She’d be disappointed if we didn’t.”
“Who is top dog out of us?”
“Over her?” I shrugged. “Does it matter? I don’t think it matters to her.”
“Yeah. I guess not. We could arm wrestle for it?”
“Or we can just keep wrestling her. You’d never admit to losing anyway.” I thought of snagging a glass of wine. They allowed more liquor here than BDSM clubs.
“Look at her.” Axl nodded. “We can’t cane her ass because of the tattoos, but the rest of her is free-for-all. She needs some carefully applied abuse.”
Her lipstick was smeared and almost gone from her mouth. Her lips looked puffier than before, though that might be my imagination. Blow jobs tended to make my Dom side ride higher. Those BJs hadn’t been anywhere near brutal or consensually dubious enough for me. There had also been no screams from Emme.
“How far can we go?” I was guessing it would be a long way. This mansion was full of a bunch of pricks richer than Midas and likely the sadistic fucks dipped their slaves in molten gold for fun.
“Anything. Just keep to this side of the law.”
We strolled to Emme, with my mind burning through possibilities.
This side of the law? I was under the impression most of the kink at this house was vaguely illegal. It left a lot of wriggle room.
“Forced breeding?” I mused loud enough for Emme to hear.
Axl turned and walked backward, his arms opening wide as if to say, really, and his eyebrows lifted. “She hasn’t taken her pill for what? A month?”
Forced breeding meant pregnancy, meant kids, but what a mindfuck to do on her.
“Longer than that.” She hadn’t started her period again but that didn’t mean her hormones weren’t making her pump out eggs ready for our come.
From her expression, she’d figured this out. “Hey. No. That’s not happening.” Her fluffy kitten ears almost looked as if she’d stiffened them in alarm, but she was frowning too.
Axl winked at me, before turning to face her. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her to her feet.
The man loved any excuse to do bad things to her, and I was fine with that.
“What about involving other people?” I said.
Axl assessed the ten or so people seated on the sofas. They’d be a mix of dominants and partners. “It’s possible.”
“Good.”
Emme was looking even less sure and pleading with her eyes.
This mezzanine area looked over the entry hall. To the left was the grand staircase leading up to this floor. There were four tables holding food platters and trays of filled wine goblets and shot glasses.
A long rectangular table caught my eye and imagination. It was not for food. It had to be for holding a man or woman in restraints. Black anchor points with attached straps ornamented the sides and in the center was a hole the size of a human head, surrounded by a circle of padding. I leaned over it. The cut edge of the hole, where it bored through the timber, was reinforced with a metal band. Dangling from the underside of that band were clips. Those could be attached to Emme’s collar.
I had barely noticed what else was happening until I straightened and looked around.
A half-naked female was being spanked. Another sat on the lap of a man in a suit, and she was being groped and fingered. A few people wore masks. Those wearing badges like mine and Axl’s were the patrons of this CNC mansion.
The lush redhead being spanked was over the knee of a squarish-built man. Blond hair stubbled his scalp and jaw and he wore a dark shirt and pants. Her yelps said he had a good, hard hand.
While I was thinking, Axl had grown tired of Emme begging us not to do this. He’d pinned her, half-kneeling, with the side of her head to the floor and kept her in place with his foot on the leash. Her cries of distress while locked at his feet only cemented my determination.
My nostrils flared and I had to resist doing something to her now, before the real fun began. Neither of us had let her continue the BJs long enough to make us come.
Her whimpering was a gift from someone above who liked me, a lot.
Axl put his other boot against her neck and rocked her in place.
“Stop,” he growled. “Be fucking quiet or I gag you.”
Sullen, her face darkening, she pouted.
“Though I might do that anyway. Emme looks better with things in her mouth.”
Her fierce glare made me laugh.
I pointed at the hole. “Put her here. Let’s show everyone how we fill our bitch with come and make babies.” I locked gazes with Emme. “You won’t be able to do anything except squeal like a piglet.”
Axl grinned. “Such a persuasive man—creative, brilliant, twisted. There is a reason we’ve been friends for so long.”
He yanked her to her feet, then shoved her onto the table with her arm twisted behind her back. “Hey, Grayson, if you still want to stitch up anything on her. One of the men over there has, let’s say, medical qualifications, and I have the necessary bits.”
“I saw it.”
“You can’t do this!” Emme tried to grab the edge of the table with her free hand, but Axl easily slid her across on her front.
Friction made the leatherlike material stick a few times. That suit, her imminent defilement, and her wriggling must be why several of our impromptu audience had sat up and stopped what they were doing—the eating, the spanking, and the fingerfucking.
The kitten suit was perfect with all the zip access to her holes. We wouldn’t even need to undress her.
“What a silly thing to say, Emme. We are doing whatever we want to do.”
Her wide eyes showed only confusion until he shoved her head through the hole in the center of the table. He fumbled a bit trying to find the clips, then adjusted them and the collar until she was held firmly. She tugged against the collar’s grip but was unable to free herself.
I undid the zip, opening the suit between her legs.
When she started feeling around for the buckle, I caught her wrists behind her back and tied them there. She struggled, pulling her knees up with her legs folded under her, but soon realized that not only was she trapped, she was trapped with her head through the hole of the table, likely gazing at the floor or our boots. With her knees tucked under her body, her ass and pussy were kept in the air, waving around obscenely above the table surface. The polish had been worn pale and smooth by countless other victims over the life of the piece.
Axl had found two battery-powered candles and brought them to the table, setting one on either side of the head hole.
“I love your centerpiece.”
“Pretty, isn’t it?” I patted her bottom, then stroked, following her movements as she tried to jerk away from my touch. “I just hope she doesn’t move around too much. If she knocks over those candles, she’ll be sorry.”
She froze, although her back still moved with her heaving breaths. “Let me out! Please!”
Behind us, someone began clapping.
“This little hole is already looking worn out.” Axl chuckled as he brushed a finger over the girl’s asshole, then explored it with the tip of his finger, fucking it up to the first knuckle of that finger over and over until it gaped slightly to accommodate him. I pulled apart her pussy lips and traced the delicate pink inside, toggling a finger over her shiny pearl of a clit.
She mewled and jerked and wormed around, trying to escape our groping and prodding. Her skin was soft and warm, and without having to see her expression or reproachful gaze we played with her, examining every inch until she was panting and still, other than an ongoing squirm of frustration.
Axl went away and washed his hands, then we took turns filling our plates from the platters. The food was mostly gourmet morsels but I grabbed a knife and fork. Pervertables were fun.
We pulled up chairs and began eating. I took the spot just beyond her feet, and my partner in crime sat next to her right shoulder.
The food was good, but the centerpiece definitely stole the show. Even unmoving, she had the kind of body that lured a man’s hands, and neither of us could resist squeezing handfuls of flesh between mouthfuls. The scent of her arousal made every mouthful of our meal more savory.
From the sounds of conversation, our audience had gone back to their own fetishes and fondling. I imagined it would take a full cabaret to distract them for long. This would be a minor sideshow. Then I was proved wrong, for a squarely-built man came over with a chair, planted it, and sat with his wine glass in hand, as if we were the best show in town.
Axl took a picture of her with his phone, and I did the same — a close-up of her glistening pussy where a droplet of liquid frustration trickled slowly southward.
I played with the remainder of my meal with my fork, then sucked the utensil clean. The silver tines glinted in the fake candlelight. I pressed the four points of metal against the soft sole of one of her feet, then dragged it downward gently, letting it tickle. I alternated from one foot to the other, exploring just how ticklish she was as the tops of her feet banged on the table in a vain attempt to escape. She did her best to stretch her legs away from me, but it spread her pussy wider, and when I pressed the cold handle of my butter knife into her cunt she quickly closed her legs. Although it hid most of my target, it also effectively trapped the knife handle inside her, leaving the blunted blade lewdly protruding. I moved the handle in and out of her slowly, listening to the choking sounds she made that echoed strangely from under the table. I continued tormenting her with the fork too, but poked at her ass cheeks with it, enjoying the way it made her squeal.
Axl snorted. “I spent too much time in church as a boy. That’s exactly how I imagined Hell, with Satan’s pitchfork prodding me in the ass. She doesn’t seem to feel particularly tormented though. The way she’s dripping down your butter knife makes me wonder if this is torture at all.”
“Here.” Our audience of one, the heavily-built man of the blonde stubble, approached with a red candle. “Use this on her.” His smile was grim. “It’s skin safe, enough.”
Wordlessly, I held out a hand, and he passed it to me.
I heated the tines of my fork over the small flame, then pressed the back of them against the pale skin of her thigh. She gasped and tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go.
“Well. I’m in. I’ve never been much into food play,” Axl said conversationally.
He took and tipped the candle, then unzipped the back of the suit to allow the hot droplets of wax to land on the girl’s shoulder blade. She gasped and arched, and my butter knife clattered to the tabletop. One drip after another, he left a scarlet trail down her back, then started at her other shoulder blade and did the same on the other side. He decorated her with wax until she looked like an angel whose wings had been ripped from her delicate little body. With the edge of my fork I scalded a Zorro-esque G just above one ass cheek, then an A above the other one. It wasn’t hot enough to brand her, but someday maybe I’d let myself go there with a woman.
Marking her again was amusing.
“I’ve never really been into food play either,” I admitted as he put the candle back in its’ spot. “Maybe because I’ve never really been into strawberries.”
“That’s ridiculous. Next you’ll be telling me you don’t like whipped cream.”
“I can take it or leave it.”
Emme made muffled noises that might have been obscenities and tried futilely to get loose.
Pussy cream, that was another story. The thick scent of her arousal was almost syrupy in the air and had changed the taste of my last few mouthfuls of food. Maybe that was why I hadn’t been hungry. I didn’t want what was on my plate when I could have the girl.
Axl left and returned with some shot glasses and lined them up along her upturned back.
“Don’t move, girl. If any of this alcohol gets spilled, you won’t like your punishment.”
“Vodka or tequila?” I asked, curious.
“Vodka. And still freezing cold.”
The waiters were doing a good job.
The shot glasses had to be cold against her skin. “Oops.” He spilled one glassful into the crack of her ass. The clear liquid must have dribbled over her pussy lips.
She made a hissing sound, but I wasn’t sure whether it stung or was just freezing. One of the precariously placed shot glasses wobbled. He picked up the one next to it and threw it back, gesturing for me to help myself. I threw back my own shot, enjoying the burn on the way down.
“I’ve never been big on food play, but biting? That’s another story. There’s something about all this helpless, soft flesh that makes me want to sink my teeth into it.”
“I admit, I enjoy hearing a woman squeal.”
“Have you ever thought of taking things farther?”
“In what way?”
Axl leaned over to get something from his bag. From Emme’s gasp it was something nasty. He straightened and brought up a pair of wicked poultry shears, placing them on the table with a deliberate clatter. “I know you’ve cut women before, but have you ever gone as far as tasting them when you cut them?”
His mouth pulled into a brief smirk but then he schooled his features again, as though she might see it.
“You mean blood? Those things could sever a finger.”
“They could. Blood, sure. That’s what I mean.”
I had to try hard not to snort because he held his fork up in front of his mouth as though he were wearing a Hannibal Lector mask.
There was no way she was going to fall for this. “And me without Chianti.”
“Just something to think about.” He dragged the shears over the tabletop, hard enough to make a sound but not hard enough to scratch. When the blunted edge of them reached the girl, he drew it along her skin. She shook and gasped, making small pleading sounds that made my balls respond.
We could cut her. I’d done it before, and it was a heady feeling, but I would much prefer seeing our little victim’s face if we were going that far. She had such large, expressive eyes, and a pretty pink mouth made for a man’s abuse.
“Before you decide what morsel of her you want for dessert, I want her upright so I can see her face.”
Axl rolled his eyes. “Since when do you care if a woman has a face? Getting sentimental in your old age?”
“I like to see the fear. She’s fun to toy with while she’s stuck like this, but not being able to see her expression gets boring.”
“Then get under the table.”
I held up a finger. “Wait. Your bag?”
He heaved it into view, slid it to me.
“Tease the fuck out of her. Edge her.” I looked around and three of the men seemed enthralled with our show, including the big guy in the chair. “Enlist some help if she comes, and I will use this.” I retrieved the suture kit, antiseptic sachets, and dental gag. “Send your doc over if I yell.” I smiled, already thinking of how this could happen, how to reel her in like a fish flopping on my line.
“Done.” Axl swallowed and I was sure he would have evil additional nuances. “It’s him. Hulk! hey! We may need you.”
Big guy stood, and strolled over, hands splaying on the table. He smelled of whisky and sex and had the biggest drawl. “Hey guys, ask anything.”
“Your hands, we need those. Maybe your dick.”
Hulk chuckled. “Never thought you’d ask.”
“Good. Stuff a tablecloth or something into the hole so it stops her seeing who is where.” Or who is fucking her. Something about another man taking her was the best ever mindfuck.
I slipped off my chair and crawled beneath. With only our two chairs around the table, and the legs of the two men, it didn’t give off much of a caged-in feeling. At least, not to me.
Her though, that was a whole other matter. She had spotted me coming and tried to gather herself into something composed and intelligent, but the drool hanging from her mouth said otherwise. Besides, she looked desperate and needy.
I positioned myself near her, sitting cross legged, recalling days as a child and making forts under tables.
***
“Grayson—” she began.
“Shhh.”
She went silent, only her face told me she was confused and unsettled. Tears had left marks about her eyes. I planned to make more of those.
“Open your mouth.” I held up the dental gag that would fit between her teeth and let me ratchet open her mouth as wide as possible.
Her mouth squeezed shut, lips paling. She’d seen the suture kit and shook her head.
“Nothing is certain, yet. Refuse and make me make you and it’s dead certain.”
She shut her eyes, then a buzz hit the air and she squeaked and her mouth fell open in startled pleasure.
“Vibe on your clit? How sad.” I slipped the gag inside and though she tried to protest it was soon fitted and cranked wide. “The rule is, come and I start suturing. Come twice and I finish them. It will hurt.” I smiled. “All you have to do is not come.”
Watching her ascend into pleasure and shudder as she came to the brink, then slump in relief would never get old. Her drool became so copious I had to shift. Her panting and the flushing of her face seemed close to being past what any woman could withstand.
“Almost there?” I taunted, running my finger around her mouth. “Poor Emme. What a pity you have no safeword, or voice.”
At her whining, I had to laugh softly.
The buzz restarted, louder, rougher, and she stiffened and stared off into space, mouth almost opening enough to make the gag fall out. I reached up and encircled the front of her throat, whispering, “Are you coming for me?”
And she let out a high pitched keen and shook in an obvious climax.
“Lift-off!” Axl said above.
“Fuck yeah. Bad girl. Such a bad girl.”
I don’t think she was in any state to hear me.
Axl popped his head below. “He wants payment in pussy before he does any stitching.
Clambering sounds jarred the table, Hulk's legs vanished.
“Our surgeon is coming to fuck your wet cunt, Emme,” I told her.
She gargled some noise, shook her head.
“Tsk. Tsk.”
Then he obviously entered her for her eyes seemed to bulge and she began making the sweetest grunting sounds as he slapped into her. The table creaked and squeaked, Emme stiffened again. Not coming yet, but close, I thought.
Axl wouldn’t let the man come inside her, unless condomed. I guess he preferred not to yet anyway as he climbed off the table after a few more thrusts and slid in next to me. His condom-covered erection stuck up from his pants fly. It glistened with her juices.
“Your gear?”
I handed the kit to him, and he went to work swabbing her mouth.
“Don’t move unless you want to look like Frankenstein,” he told her.
The fear was patent in her expression. She whimpered as he efficiently clicked the needleholders onto the curved needle, swallowed as he raised them toward her face. The attached suture coiled out below, hanging down. This was perfection for a sadist. I grabbed my cock through my pants and squeezed down, stroking myself.
“Warning below, starting some tongue action on her clit.” Axl shouted.
“Mmmmm!” Emme replied, her head shaking from reflex.
“Go, you,” I murmured, gripping her head as Hulkman aimed then swiftly sliced the needle into her upper lip for the first stitch.
Though her noises shut down, she trembled.
“Was that a no?” I smiled up at her. From the wet licking sounds above and the thumping of her knees, from her closing eyes and the tears, she was caught between terror, pain, and pleasure. Axl’s tongue would be slurping over her clit. He ate her, she squealed and panted, then she coughed into a series of strange little grunts. The needles swept in swift darting circles, in and out of her flesh. Small specks of blood welled where the metal popped through her lips. Hulk was concentrating so hard he probably hadn’t noticed.
I kept my hold on her head.
Above me, her knees were sliding on the table.
Then she moaned and I could tell she was arching into another orgasm.
Except she kept going, jerking but not breathing, then she was choking, then shuddering and stiffening again.
“So much fucking coming. You can suture her whole mouth,” I said dryly. “Emme is a cum slut as well as a pain slut.”
“Obviously,” Hulk said. He sewed along her whole mouth, with the long black sutures loosely connecting her lips from left to right, across the open gap.
“Take the gag off and I’ll tie it firm, slide the material through her lips and cinch it in. Don’t try to move your lips, girl, or you’ll rip the stuff straight out and then I’ll need to knock you out to fix it.” He sounded so matter-of-fact, I was awed.
The man had skills. I just hoped I never saw him out there when I needed some surgery.
I released the gag, tossed it under a chair.
Within seconds, he had pulled it tight and knotted everything. Finished. I eyed the completed job. Black lines of suture material crisscrossed over her mouth.
“What a pretty Frankengirl,” I said.
We let her go after that. Hulk and I emerged from under the table to find Axl had undone the collar.
Slowly, she pushed up, still trembling. Her face was crimson from being upside down so long, and her eyes were glazed. Her mouth was this fucked-up version from the Day of the Dead they celebrated in Mexico. She made a lovely centerpiece kneeling on the table. Her long hair was a mess of snarls, as if she’d been savaged by beasts, and her skin was a colorful mosaic of welts and bruises. Tear tracks had dried on her face in multiple directions, and the pretty blue of her eyes was bright against her red rimmed lids.
Hulk placed the surgery kit on the table then wiped his hands on a towel a waiter handed him. “She makes a pretty patient. Now I want to fuck her again. How do I earn that?” He looked at me and Axl.
Emme bubbled through her messed up mouth and shook her head.
“I might pay you to do it to her,” I added. “We’re going to breed her tonight. Musical cocks as to the father?”
Hulk laughed. “I’m never inviting you two to a family dinner.”
She protested with a wordless squeak, but her lips writhed and she winced. More tears flowed. I took her hand and studied her, looked between her unzipped legs., So much wetness shone on her thighs. Her clit was puffy enough to be extremely visible. I unzipped the circular patches over her breasts, put the material aside, and pulled her breasts out. They looked obscenely gorgeous. I cupped one and weighed it. Leaning in and sucking on that nipple then teasing her with my tongue, had her pushing forward. She liked this, even as she hated it.
“Force as usual is making you needy as fuck,” I whispered as I kissed up her neck to her sutured mouth. I held her jaw and turned her head this way and that way. Axl slid onto the table to the left, seating himself. “Do you have any idea how deviantly sexy you look?”
“And tasted,” Axl said. He clucked his tongue. “Such a mess. Maybe it would be easier to shave her head instead of trying to brush it out.”
“You think so?” I tried to picture it, slipping my fingers through her hair at the side and wondering if I should kiss that bloody mouth. “She has such a lovely face it would probably make it look good.
She didn’t try to speak again, but her eyes were desperate.
“Oh, does our little captive dislike that idea?” he crooned, tangling a hand in her wild hair on the other side.
She winced, and her discomfort only made her more beautiful. From what I could tell, her voice was raspy. Maybe the collar had been tied a bit too tight.
Maybe a lot of things. Maybe we went too far?
“I think I’ve fallen in love with her, as much as I can. Not being a romantic, Emme, you understand that’s an iffy concept to me. But… I want you to be safe, but damaged. I want you safe but not safe.” It was difficult to put this in words. “Remember this.” I swiped at her tear-filled eye with my thumb, pushing her eyelid closed and holding it there for a moment. I was sure I felt the smallest of nods before she lowered her head.
“And me, I think,” Axl agreed. “Though I’m even less a romantic.”
“You’re romantic as a rock, Axl.”
“So. Now that’s settled. Nipple clamps?” He held a pair up, clicking and reflecting the light as they spun.
“Nipple clamps.” I smiled thinly. “And we let everyone who wants to do it tease her. If she comes before we stop, I will sit here, with my cock in her ass and you can breed her. If not, I fuck her and come in her.”
“Deal. You’re going to lose.”
I didn’t care. I planned to fuck her bareback later anyway.
Of course, she tried to push and slip off the table, even though her hands were bound. I caught her and locked my arm through hers at her back, held her as Axl squashed a nipple and sank the pincer arms of the clamp into her. Her legs kicked. I inhaled with my nose to her nape, breathing in her scent.
She squealed and wriggled at the second clamp, and she screamed using only her throat because making noises hurt. I stroked myself and thought of how it would feel inside her. Soon, very, very soon.
EMME
As he’d threatened to, Grayson led me around the balcony by the chains on the nipple clamps. Just seeing that glistening link going from my areolas to his hand, still bound and in pain, I was sure I could never come again this night. I was devastated by what had already happened. The sting on my mouth from the stitches constantly reminded me of how far they would go—and yet… and yet it made my arousal revive as each man or woman toyed with me, fingered me and smiled at me with that knowing, you little submissive fuck-whore smile.
Whyever the fuck? I suppose he’d nailed it, not-safe was our shining lodestone, our brutally essential need, for all three of us.
I came again, twice—once when a man had me stand, spread-legged, over his lap while he fucked me with his fingers and forced his own woman to lick me below. Her tongue knew exactly where to go. By then my mind was spacing out, I think, because the noises were muted, their laughter and words had become distant.
Then Hulk, the man who stitched me, fucked my ass while Grayson sat on a sofa to my front and bowed over to put his mouth on my almost numb clit. There had been too many mouths and too many fingers. I swayed, moaned, and wondered already how it was that he could stir me.
“Stay.” The clamp chain was pulled taut to the side by Axl. Grayson’s hands dug into my thighs, my hips, keeping me from running away while Hulk plowed me. I was rammed forward and invaded by his cock going where it should not go, over and over. Until he shoved hard and squirted cum, his body jammed against me over where the tattoos lay.
I leaked when he withdrew and almost fell to my knees. In that last second, Grayson’s mouth had coaxed another blitz of ecstasy from me.
Another climax. God. I shook and panted with my head lolling back. The pain merged and flowed and cranked everything higher, higher.
Fuck.
“One more,” he whispered and plunged fingers deep inside, widening me by squeezing in a third finger then his thumb tip. Stretched unexpectedly, I spluttered out a weird noise. Those fingers were going in then out with a rhythmic squelching that betrayed my sloppy state. His tongue swiped upward and around my clit, toying with me, teasing me.
“More,” he grated out. “One more.”
I was so wet it felt as if it glided on honey.
Thick tongue. Hard then soft tongue, as it poked and he sucked, and I stared down at him, enraptured, caught in the stunned amazement that sometimes came over me when I saw a man with his mouth on me, or a cock inside me. Like how? For this was me and he had penetrated me, become part of me. It was a lewd invasion.
My thighs were tightening and shaking violently. I was close. I strived not to open my mouth despite the roar in my ears, even though…
Even though--
I bucked forward onto his mouth and the clamps tightened and crushed my nipples. My throaty scream as I came almost tore out the sutures. He grinned up at me, the bastard.
After that, they took me on the table, just as he’d said they would, with Grayson sitting and deep in my ass and Axl spearing in from the front. They held my legs apart. Their hard cocks seemed to tear away the last morsel of my resistance, despite all the eyes on us as they reamed me. They drove inside, taking always taking, with my arms locked by Grayson, and my mouth shut by stitches. My flesh was jarred and consumed and assaulted. I melted and became no longer me, myself, or I. I was theirs.
I could taste my blood, leaking into my mouth.
Axl lifted my legs higher, thrust in hard, and an electric tremor rippled from my pussy and through me. Despite my exhaustion, when he growled, come for me you little bitch, I blanked out with my body spasming on both their cocks, aware of them both grunting and jetting inside me.
I descended from the shaky, breath-stolen peak of the climax, to find Axl’s eyes inches away. He kissed me on my sewn mouth and pulled away, then glanced down at where our bodies were joined. The black cat costume with the big zips made this look especially bizarre and kinky.
“Feel that, Emme?” He jammed into me until there was nothing to show where I ended and his flesh began. Even with him still inside me, cum leaked from my entrance and dribbled down to where Grayson also had me impaled.
I whimpered, struggling for air, dizzy, and freed from Grayson's armlock. Only his hard muscled thighs under me and Axl’s grip on my legs kept me from falling off them.
Grayson chuckled and groped my breasts. He dragged me into his chest, squashing my bound hands. “I’m filling her up later too. Then we'll see whose swimmers swim fastest.”
I turned my head, embarrassed at this new obsession of theirs. There should have been discussion. Should have. This underlined their possession in red, and in white, considering all the cum that spilled when they both pulled out.
They sat me on a chair, still messy, still dressed like a cat but with my furry ears askew. There was only a towel to keep the upholstery clean. With every eye on the balcony watching us, they began to unknot their ropes from my hands and arms. The marks from the binding remained, denting my skin. I traced them, thinking.
Breeding me. That said mine more than anything else they had ever done.
Having to be still and endure the pain while they cut and removed the sutures wasn’t as awful as I thought it would be. It happened quickly and Axl held me on his lap while Grayson took them out. Only a few tugs made my stomach turn when the thread caught in my lip.
Afterward, washed, and sated, fed, and exceptionally tired, I curled up with them on the rooftop, under blankets and beneath the stars. I crawled up Grayson and lay there and I kissed Axl’s chest as he stretched an arm across my back and held me.
Then I sighed, soothed by the breeze. This was an eternal moment locked in time and in my memory.
If they could say it so could I. “You’re mine,” I told Grayson, kissing his lips. “And so are you.” I moved over and kissed Axl on the mouth. My own lips were swollen and abused, and I would have bruises soon, if not already.
The pain of those kisses made my act even more apt. Although they both sat up and pinned me down after that, to glower and tell me I was theirs and whether they were mine was up to them, I smiled.
I coaxed their hands to my mouth so I could suck on them both.
“Mine,” I whispered. “Make me not say it.”
Now that made them laugh. And call me a provocative bitch. And promise to cane me and crop my pussy once I was healed.
Romance was definitely in the air, this night, this merry, cum-adorned night.
AT THE MANSION
Axl dropped his toy bag full of kink gear on the polished timber floor. I glanced over to check Emme was where she was supposed to be—kneeling before the roped-off entry into the mezzanine balcony. The cute kitty ears made me smile. Fucking her would be a weird combo of furry sex and taking out an innocent.
The rest of her new long-sleeved cat costume was pure fetish. It had a black leather look with fake white stitching, and anchor points and buckles on the arms and waist. Big-teethed zippers circled her tits, and another ran down the back. Her legs and ass were naked. The best zip went between her legs.
The tattooist’s bandaging added a jarring element where he’d put plastic on her skin over the new ass tattoos. Those marked her as ours. My dragon looked impressive. The demon labelled SATAN was Axl’s ownership symbol.
“I’m never sure she will obey us,” I drawled to him, even as exhilaration kicked in because she was doing precisely what we had told her to do.
“If she doesn’t, we get to do worse to her. Win, win?” He dropped to one knee to unzip and rummage in the toy bag. His unruly brown hair flopped forward, swaying as he peered in, but the crop and dildos, the suture kit, the clover clamps for nipples—for Emme’s nipples—were all visible.
That suture kit gave me ideas. Not eyes, no, that had freaked me out, but elsewhere might be good. The mindfucks in sewing shut her holes called to me.
My balls did their usual trick and tightened at the thought of using those. I imagined myself squeezing the clamps onto her pale pink areolas then watching her wince and yelp, and seeing that exquisite awareness of her plight wash over her. Pleasure, pain, and a sadist making her take it. Making her come…
I cleared my throat.
“Exactly.” A waiter went by bearing a platter of entrées. I grabbed three and wolfed them down. Salmon on crackers with black caviar? It was probably more sophisticated than that, but my stomach didn’t care. “She’d be disappointed if we didn’t.”
“Who is top dog out of us?”
“Over her?” I shrugged. “Does it matter? I don’t think it matters to her.”
“Yeah. I guess not. We could arm wrestle for it?”
“Or we can just keep wrestling her. You’d never admit to losing anyway.” I thought of snagging a glass of wine. They allowed more liquor here than BDSM clubs.
“Look at her.” Axl nodded. “We can’t cane her ass because of the tattoos, but the rest of her is free-for-all. She needs some carefully applied abuse.”
Her lipstick was smeared and almost gone from her mouth. Her lips looked puffier than before, though that might be my imagination. Blow jobs tended to make my Dom side ride higher. Those BJs hadn’t been anywhere near brutal or consensually dubious enough for me. There had also been no screams from Emme.
“How far can we go?” I was guessing it would be a long way. This mansion was full of a bunch of pricks richer than Midas and likely the sadistic fucks dipped their slaves in molten gold for fun.
“Anything. Just keep to this side of the law.”
We strolled to Emme, with my mind burning through possibilities.
This side of the law? I was under the impression most of the kink at this house was vaguely illegal. It left a lot of wriggle room.
“Forced breeding?” I mused loud enough for Emme to hear.
Axl turned and walked backward, his arms opening wide as if to say, really, and his eyebrows lifted. “She hasn’t taken her pill for what? A month?”
Forced breeding meant pregnancy, meant kids, but what a mindfuck to do on her.
“Longer than that.” She hadn’t started her period again but that didn’t mean her hormones weren’t making her pump out eggs ready for our come.
From her expression, she’d figured this out. “Hey. No. That’s not happening.” Her fluffy kitten ears almost looked as if she’d stiffened them in alarm, but she was frowning too.
Axl winked at me, before turning to face her. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her to her feet.
The man loved any excuse to do bad things to her, and I was fine with that.
“What about involving other people?” I said.
Axl assessed the ten or so people seated on the sofas. They’d be a mix of dominants and partners. “It’s possible.”
“Good.”
Emme was looking even less sure and pleading with her eyes.
This mezzanine area looked over the entry hall. To the left was the grand staircase leading up to this floor. There were four tables holding food platters and trays of filled wine goblets and shot glasses.
A long rectangular table caught my eye and imagination. It was not for food. It had to be for holding a man or woman in restraints. Black anchor points with attached straps ornamented the sides and in the center was a hole the size of a human head, surrounded by a circle of padding. I leaned over it. The cut edge of the hole, where it bored through the timber, was reinforced with a metal band. Dangling from the underside of that band were clips. Those could be attached to Emme’s collar.
I had barely noticed what else was happening until I straightened and looked around.
A half-naked female was being spanked. Another sat on the lap of a man in a suit, and she was being groped and fingered. A few people wore masks. Those wearing badges like mine and Axl’s were the patrons of this CNC mansion.
The lush redhead being spanked was over the knee of a squarish-built man. Blond hair stubbled his scalp and jaw and he wore a dark shirt and pants. Her yelps said he had a good, hard hand.
While I was thinking, Axl had grown tired of Emme begging us not to do this. He’d pinned her, half-kneeling, with the side of her head to the floor and kept her in place with his foot on the leash. Her cries of distress while locked at his feet only cemented my determination.
My nostrils flared and I had to resist doing something to her now, before the real fun began. Neither of us had let her continue the BJs long enough to make us come.
Her whimpering was a gift from someone above who liked me, a lot.
Axl put his other boot against her neck and rocked her in place.
“Stop,” he growled. “Be fucking quiet or I gag you.”
Sullen, her face darkening, she pouted.
“Though I might do that anyway. Emme looks better with things in her mouth.”
Her fierce glare made me laugh.
I pointed at the hole. “Put her here. Let’s show everyone how we fill our bitch with come and make babies.” I locked gazes with Emme. “You won’t be able to do anything except squeal like a piglet.”
Axl grinned. “Such a persuasive man—creative, brilliant, twisted. There is a reason we’ve been friends for so long.”
He yanked her to her feet, then shoved her onto the table with her arm twisted behind her back. “Hey, Grayson, if you still want to stitch up anything on her. One of the men over there has, let’s say, medical qualifications, and I have the necessary bits.”
“I saw it.”
“You can’t do this!” Emme tried to grab the edge of the table with her free hand, but Axl easily slid her across on her front.
Friction made the leatherlike material stick a few times. That suit, her imminent defilement, and her wriggling must be why several of our impromptu audience had sat up and stopped what they were doing—the eating, the spanking, and the fingerfucking.
The kitten suit was perfect with all the zip access to her holes. We wouldn’t even need to undress her.
“What a silly thing to say, Emme. We are doing whatever we want to do.”
Her wide eyes showed only confusion until he shoved her head through the hole in the center of the table. He fumbled a bit trying to find the clips, then adjusted them and the collar until she was held firmly. She tugged against the collar’s grip but was unable to free herself.
I undid the zip, opening the suit between her legs.
When she started feeling around for the buckle, I caught her wrists behind her back and tied them there. She struggled, pulling her knees up with her legs folded under her, but soon realized that not only was she trapped, she was trapped with her head through the hole of the table, likely gazing at the floor or our boots. With her knees tucked under her body, her ass and pussy were kept in the air, waving around obscenely above the table surface. The polish had been worn pale and smooth by countless other victims over the life of the piece.
Axl had found two battery-powered candles and brought them to the table, setting one on either side of the head hole.
“I love your centerpiece.”
“Pretty, isn’t it?” I patted her bottom, then stroked, following her movements as she tried to jerk away from my touch. “I just hope she doesn’t move around too much. If she knocks over those candles, she’ll be sorry.”
She froze, although her back still moved with her heaving breaths. “Let me out! Please!”
Behind us, someone began clapping.
“This little hole is already looking worn out.” Axl chuckled as he brushed a finger over the girl’s asshole, then explored it with the tip of his finger, fucking it up to the first knuckle of that finger over and over until it gaped slightly to accommodate him. I pulled apart her pussy lips and traced the delicate pink inside, toggling a finger over her shiny pearl of a clit.
She mewled and jerked and wormed around, trying to escape our groping and prodding. Her skin was soft and warm, and without having to see her expression or reproachful gaze we played with her, examining every inch until she was panting and still, other than an ongoing squirm of frustration.
Axl went away and washed his hands, then we took turns filling our plates from the platters. The food was mostly gourmet morsels but I grabbed a knife and fork. Pervertables were fun.
We pulled up chairs and began eating. I took the spot just beyond her feet, and my partner in crime sat next to her right shoulder.
The food was good, but the centerpiece definitely stole the show. Even unmoving, she had the kind of body that lured a man’s hands, and neither of us could resist squeezing handfuls of flesh between mouthfuls. The scent of her arousal made every mouthful of our meal more savory.
From the sounds of conversation, our audience had gone back to their own fetishes and fondling. I imagined it would take a full cabaret to distract them for long. This would be a minor sideshow. Then I was proved wrong, for a squarely-built man came over with a chair, planted it, and sat with his wine glass in hand, as if we were the best show in town.
Axl took a picture of her with his phone, and I did the same — a close-up of her glistening pussy where a droplet of liquid frustration trickled slowly southward.
I played with the remainder of my meal with my fork, then sucked the utensil clean. The silver tines glinted in the fake candlelight. I pressed the four points of metal against the soft sole of one of her feet, then dragged it downward gently, letting it tickle. I alternated from one foot to the other, exploring just how ticklish she was as the tops of her feet banged on the table in a vain attempt to escape. She did her best to stretch her legs away from me, but it spread her pussy wider, and when I pressed the cold handle of my butter knife into her cunt she quickly closed her legs. Although it hid most of my target, it also effectively trapped the knife handle inside her, leaving the blunted blade lewdly protruding. I moved the handle in and out of her slowly, listening to the choking sounds she made that echoed strangely from under the table. I continued tormenting her with the fork too, but poked at her ass cheeks with it, enjoying the way it made her squeal.
Axl snorted. “I spent too much time in church as a boy. That’s exactly how I imagined Hell, with Satan’s pitchfork prodding me in the ass. She doesn’t seem to feel particularly tormented though. The way she’s dripping down your butter knife makes me wonder if this is torture at all.”
“Here.” Our audience of one, the heavily-built man of the blonde stubble, approached with a red candle. “Use this on her.” His smile was grim. “It’s skin safe, enough.”
Wordlessly, I held out a hand, and he passed it to me.
I heated the tines of my fork over the small flame, then pressed the back of them against the pale skin of her thigh. She gasped and tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go.
“Well. I’m in. I’ve never been much into food play,” Axl said conversationally.
He took and tipped the candle, then unzipped the back of the suit to allow the hot droplets of wax to land on the girl’s shoulder blade. She gasped and arched, and my butter knife clattered to the tabletop. One drip after another, he left a scarlet trail down her back, then started at her other shoulder blade and did the same on the other side. He decorated her with wax until she looked like an angel whose wings had been ripped from her delicate little body. With the edge of my fork I scalded a Zorro-esque G just above one ass cheek, then an A above the other one. It wasn’t hot enough to brand her, but someday maybe I’d let myself go there with a woman.
Marking her again was amusing.
“I’ve never really been into food play either,” I admitted as he put the candle back in its’ spot. “Maybe because I’ve never really been into strawberries.”
“That’s ridiculous. Next you’ll be telling me you don’t like whipped cream.”
“I can take it or leave it.”
Emme made muffled noises that might have been obscenities and tried futilely to get loose.
Pussy cream, that was another story. The thick scent of her arousal was almost syrupy in the air and had changed the taste of my last few mouthfuls of food. Maybe that was why I hadn’t been hungry. I didn’t want what was on my plate when I could have the girl.
Axl left and returned with some shot glasses and lined them up along her upturned back.
“Don’t move, girl. If any of this alcohol gets spilled, you won’t like your punishment.”
“Vodka or tequila?” I asked, curious.
“Vodka. And still freezing cold.”
The waiters were doing a good job.
The shot glasses had to be cold against her skin. “Oops.” He spilled one glassful into the crack of her ass. The clear liquid must have dribbled over her pussy lips.
She made a hissing sound, but I wasn’t sure whether it stung or was just freezing. One of the precariously placed shot glasses wobbled. He picked up the one next to it and threw it back, gesturing for me to help myself. I threw back my own shot, enjoying the burn on the way down.
“I’ve never been big on food play, but biting? That’s another story. There’s something about all this helpless, soft flesh that makes me want to sink my teeth into it.”
“I admit, I enjoy hearing a woman squeal.”
“Have you ever thought of taking things farther?”
“In what way?”
Axl leaned over to get something from his bag. From Emme’s gasp it was something nasty. He straightened and brought up a pair of wicked poultry shears, placing them on the table with a deliberate clatter. “I know you’ve cut women before, but have you ever gone as far as tasting them when you cut them?”
His mouth pulled into a brief smirk but then he schooled his features again, as though she might see it.
“You mean blood? Those things could sever a finger.”
“They could. Blood, sure. That’s what I mean.”
I had to try hard not to snort because he held his fork up in front of his mouth as though he were wearing a Hannibal Lector mask.
There was no way she was going to fall for this. “And me without Chianti.”
“Just something to think about.” He dragged the shears over the tabletop, hard enough to make a sound but not hard enough to scratch. When the blunted edge of them reached the girl, he drew it along her skin. She shook and gasped, making small pleading sounds that made my balls respond.
We could cut her. I’d done it before, and it was a heady feeling, but I would much prefer seeing our little victim’s face if we were going that far. She had such large, expressive eyes, and a pretty pink mouth made for a man’s abuse.
“Before you decide what morsel of her you want for dessert, I want her upright so I can see her face.”
Axl rolled his eyes. “Since when do you care if a woman has a face? Getting sentimental in your old age?”
“I like to see the fear. She’s fun to toy with while she’s stuck like this, but not being able to see her expression gets boring.”
“Then get under the table.”
I held up a finger. “Wait. Your bag?”
He heaved it into view, slid it to me.
“Tease the fuck out of her. Edge her.” I looked around and three of the men seemed enthralled with our show, including the big guy in the chair. “Enlist some help if she comes, and I will use this.” I retrieved the suture kit, antiseptic sachets, and dental gag. “Send your doc over if I yell.” I smiled, already thinking of how this could happen, how to reel her in like a fish flopping on my line.
“Done.” Axl swallowed and I was sure he would have evil additional nuances. “It’s him. Hulk! hey! We may need you.”
Big guy stood, and strolled over, hands splaying on the table. He smelled of whisky and sex and had the biggest drawl. “Hey guys, ask anything.”
“Your hands, we need those. Maybe your dick.”
Hulk chuckled. “Never thought you’d ask.”
“Good. Stuff a tablecloth or something into the hole so it stops her seeing who is where.” Or who is fucking her. Something about another man taking her was the best ever mindfuck.
I slipped off my chair and crawled beneath. With only our two chairs around the table, and the legs of the two men, it didn’t give off much of a caged-in feeling. At least, not to me.
Her though, that was a whole other matter. She had spotted me coming and tried to gather herself into something composed and intelligent, but the drool hanging from her mouth said otherwise. Besides, she looked desperate and needy.
I positioned myself near her, sitting cross legged, recalling days as a child and making forts under tables.
***
“Grayson—” she began.
“Shhh.”
She went silent, only her face told me she was confused and unsettled. Tears had left marks about her eyes. I planned to make more of those.
“Open your mouth.” I held up the dental gag that would fit between her teeth and let me ratchet open her mouth as wide as possible.
Her mouth squeezed shut, lips paling. She’d seen the suture kit and shook her head.
“Nothing is certain, yet. Refuse and make me make you and it’s dead certain.”
She shut her eyes, then a buzz hit the air and she squeaked and her mouth fell open in startled pleasure.
“Vibe on your clit? How sad.” I slipped the gag inside and though she tried to protest it was soon fitted and cranked wide. “The rule is, come and I start suturing. Come twice and I finish them. It will hurt.” I smiled. “All you have to do is not come.”
Watching her ascend into pleasure and shudder as she came to the brink, then slump in relief would never get old. Her drool became so copious I had to shift. Her panting and the flushing of her face seemed close to being past what any woman could withstand.
“Almost there?” I taunted, running my finger around her mouth. “Poor Emme. What a pity you have no safeword, or voice.”
At her whining, I had to laugh softly.
The buzz restarted, louder, rougher, and she stiffened and stared off into space, mouth almost opening enough to make the gag fall out. I reached up and encircled the front of her throat, whispering, “Are you coming for me?”
And she let out a high pitched keen and shook in an obvious climax.
“Lift-off!” Axl said above.
“Fuck yeah. Bad girl. Such a bad girl.”
I don’t think she was in any state to hear me.
Axl popped his head below. “He wants payment in pussy before he does any stitching.
Clambering sounds jarred the table, Hulk's legs vanished.
“Our surgeon is coming to fuck your wet cunt, Emme,” I told her.
She gargled some noise, shook her head.
“Tsk. Tsk.”
Then he obviously entered her for her eyes seemed to bulge and she began making the sweetest grunting sounds as he slapped into her. The table creaked and squeaked, Emme stiffened again. Not coming yet, but close, I thought.
Axl wouldn’t let the man come inside her, unless condomed. I guess he preferred not to yet anyway as he climbed off the table after a few more thrusts and slid in next to me. His condom-covered erection stuck up from his pants fly. It glistened with her juices.
“Your gear?”
I handed the kit to him, and he went to work swabbing her mouth.
“Don’t move unless you want to look like Frankenstein,” he told her.
The fear was patent in her expression. She whimpered as he efficiently clicked the needleholders onto the curved needle, swallowed as he raised them toward her face. The attached suture coiled out below, hanging down. This was perfection for a sadist. I grabbed my cock through my pants and squeezed down, stroking myself.
“Warning below, starting some tongue action on her clit.” Axl shouted.
“Mmmmm!” Emme replied, her head shaking from reflex.
“Go, you,” I murmured, gripping her head as Hulkman aimed then swiftly sliced the needle into her upper lip for the first stitch.
Though her noises shut down, she trembled.
“Was that a no?” I smiled up at her. From the wet licking sounds above and the thumping of her knees, from her closing eyes and the tears, she was caught between terror, pain, and pleasure. Axl’s tongue would be slurping over her clit. He ate her, she squealed and panted, then she coughed into a series of strange little grunts. The needles swept in swift darting circles, in and out of her flesh. Small specks of blood welled where the metal popped through her lips. Hulk was concentrating so hard he probably hadn’t noticed.
I kept my hold on her head.
Above me, her knees were sliding on the table.
Then she moaned and I could tell she was arching into another orgasm.
Except she kept going, jerking but not breathing, then she was choking, then shuddering and stiffening again.
“So much fucking coming. You can suture her whole mouth,” I said dryly. “Emme is a cum slut as well as a pain slut.”
“Obviously,” Hulk said. He sewed along her whole mouth, with the long black sutures loosely connecting her lips from left to right, across the open gap.
“Take the gag off and I’ll tie it firm, slide the material through her lips and cinch it in. Don’t try to move your lips, girl, or you’ll rip the stuff straight out and then I’ll need to knock you out to fix it.” He sounded so matter-of-fact, I was awed.
The man had skills. I just hoped I never saw him out there when I needed some surgery.
I released the gag, tossed it under a chair.
Within seconds, he had pulled it tight and knotted everything. Finished. I eyed the completed job. Black lines of suture material crisscrossed over her mouth.
“What a pretty Frankengirl,” I said.
We let her go after that. Hulk and I emerged from under the table to find Axl had undone the collar.
Slowly, she pushed up, still trembling. Her face was crimson from being upside down so long, and her eyes were glazed. Her mouth was this fucked-up version from the Day of the Dead they celebrated in Mexico. She made a lovely centerpiece kneeling on the table. Her long hair was a mess of snarls, as if she’d been savaged by beasts, and her skin was a colorful mosaic of welts and bruises. Tear tracks had dried on her face in multiple directions, and the pretty blue of her eyes was bright against her red rimmed lids.
Hulk placed the surgery kit on the table then wiped his hands on a towel a waiter handed him. “She makes a pretty patient. Now I want to fuck her again. How do I earn that?” He looked at me and Axl.
Emme bubbled through her messed up mouth and shook her head.
“I might pay you to do it to her,” I added. “We’re going to breed her tonight. Musical cocks as to the father?”
Hulk laughed. “I’m never inviting you two to a family dinner.”
She protested with a wordless squeak, but her lips writhed and she winced. More tears flowed. I took her hand and studied her, looked between her unzipped legs., So much wetness shone on her thighs. Her clit was puffy enough to be extremely visible. I unzipped the circular patches over her breasts, put the material aside, and pulled her breasts out. They looked obscenely gorgeous. I cupped one and weighed it. Leaning in and sucking on that nipple then teasing her with my tongue, had her pushing forward. She liked this, even as she hated it.
“Force as usual is making you needy as fuck,” I whispered as I kissed up her neck to her sutured mouth. I held her jaw and turned her head this way and that way. Axl slid onto the table to the left, seating himself. “Do you have any idea how deviantly sexy you look?”
“And tasted,” Axl said. He clucked his tongue. “Such a mess. Maybe it would be easier to shave her head instead of trying to brush it out.”
“You think so?” I tried to picture it, slipping my fingers through her hair at the side and wondering if I should kiss that bloody mouth. “She has such a lovely face it would probably make it look good.
She didn’t try to speak again, but her eyes were desperate.
“Oh, does our little captive dislike that idea?” he crooned, tangling a hand in her wild hair on the other side.
She winced, and her discomfort only made her more beautiful. From what I could tell, her voice was raspy. Maybe the collar had been tied a bit too tight.
Maybe a lot of things. Maybe we went too far?
“I think I’ve fallen in love with her, as much as I can. Not being a romantic, Emme, you understand that’s an iffy concept to me. But… I want you to be safe, but damaged. I want you safe but not safe.” It was difficult to put this in words. “Remember this.” I swiped at her tear-filled eye with my thumb, pushing her eyelid closed and holding it there for a moment. I was sure I felt the smallest of nods before she lowered her head.
“And me, I think,” Axl agreed. “Though I’m even less a romantic.”
“You’re romantic as a rock, Axl.”
“So. Now that’s settled. Nipple clamps?” He held a pair up, clicking and reflecting the light as they spun.
“Nipple clamps.” I smiled thinly. “And we let everyone who wants to do it tease her. If she comes before we stop, I will sit here, with my cock in her ass and you can breed her. If not, I fuck her and come in her.”
“Deal. You’re going to lose.”
I didn’t care. I planned to fuck her bareback later anyway.
Of course, she tried to push and slip off the table, even though her hands were bound. I caught her and locked my arm through hers at her back, held her as Axl squashed a nipple and sank the pincer arms of the clamp into her. Her legs kicked. I inhaled with my nose to her nape, breathing in her scent.
She squealed and wriggled at the second clamp, and she screamed using only her throat because making noises hurt. I stroked myself and thought of how it would feel inside her. Soon, very, very soon.
EMME
As he’d threatened to, Grayson led me around the balcony by the chains on the nipple clamps. Just seeing that glistening link going from my areolas to his hand, still bound and in pain, I was sure I could never come again this night. I was devastated by what had already happened. The sting on my mouth from the stitches constantly reminded me of how far they would go—and yet… and yet it made my arousal revive as each man or woman toyed with me, fingered me and smiled at me with that knowing, you little submissive fuck-whore smile.
Whyever the fuck? I suppose he’d nailed it, not-safe was our shining lodestone, our brutally essential need, for all three of us.
I came again, twice—once when a man had me stand, spread-legged, over his lap while he fucked me with his fingers and forced his own woman to lick me below. Her tongue knew exactly where to go. By then my mind was spacing out, I think, because the noises were muted, their laughter and words had become distant.
Then Hulk, the man who stitched me, fucked my ass while Grayson sat on a sofa to my front and bowed over to put his mouth on my almost numb clit. There had been too many mouths and too many fingers. I swayed, moaned, and wondered already how it was that he could stir me.
“Stay.” The clamp chain was pulled taut to the side by Axl. Grayson’s hands dug into my thighs, my hips, keeping me from running away while Hulk plowed me. I was rammed forward and invaded by his cock going where it should not go, over and over. Until he shoved hard and squirted cum, his body jammed against me over where the tattoos lay.
I leaked when he withdrew and almost fell to my knees. In that last second, Grayson’s mouth had coaxed another blitz of ecstasy from me.
Another climax. God. I shook and panted with my head lolling back. The pain merged and flowed and cranked everything higher, higher.
Fuck.
“One more,” he whispered and plunged fingers deep inside, widening me by squeezing in a third finger then his thumb tip. Stretched unexpectedly, I spluttered out a weird noise. Those fingers were going in then out with a rhythmic squelching that betrayed my sloppy state. His tongue swiped upward and around my clit, toying with me, teasing me.
“More,” he grated out. “One more.”
I was so wet it felt as if it glided on honey.
Thick tongue. Hard then soft tongue, as it poked and he sucked, and I stared down at him, enraptured, caught in the stunned amazement that sometimes came over me when I saw a man with his mouth on me, or a cock inside me. Like how? For this was me and he had penetrated me, become part of me. It was a lewd invasion.
My thighs were tightening and shaking violently. I was close. I strived not to open my mouth despite the roar in my ears, even though…
Even though--
I bucked forward onto his mouth and the clamps tightened and crushed my nipples. My throaty scream as I came almost tore out the sutures. He grinned up at me, the bastard.
After that, they took me on the table, just as he’d said they would, with Grayson sitting and deep in my ass and Axl spearing in from the front. They held my legs apart. Their hard cocks seemed to tear away the last morsel of my resistance, despite all the eyes on us as they reamed me. They drove inside, taking always taking, with my arms locked by Grayson, and my mouth shut by stitches. My flesh was jarred and consumed and assaulted. I melted and became no longer me, myself, or I. I was theirs.
I could taste my blood, leaking into my mouth.
Axl lifted my legs higher, thrust in hard, and an electric tremor rippled from my pussy and through me. Despite my exhaustion, when he growled, come for me you little bitch, I blanked out with my body spasming on both their cocks, aware of them both grunting and jetting inside me.
I descended from the shaky, breath-stolen peak of the climax, to find Axl’s eyes inches away. He kissed me on my sewn mouth and pulled away, then glanced down at where our bodies were joined. The black cat costume with the big zips made this look especially bizarre and kinky.
“Feel that, Emme?” He jammed into me until there was nothing to show where I ended and his flesh began. Even with him still inside me, cum leaked from my entrance and dribbled down to where Grayson also had me impaled.
I whimpered, struggling for air, dizzy, and freed from Grayson's armlock. Only his hard muscled thighs under me and Axl’s grip on my legs kept me from falling off them.
Grayson chuckled and groped my breasts. He dragged me into his chest, squashing my bound hands. “I’m filling her up later too. Then we'll see whose swimmers swim fastest.”
I turned my head, embarrassed at this new obsession of theirs. There should have been discussion. Should have. This underlined their possession in red, and in white, considering all the cum that spilled when they both pulled out.
They sat me on a chair, still messy, still dressed like a cat but with my furry ears askew. There was only a towel to keep the upholstery clean. With every eye on the balcony watching us, they began to unknot their ropes from my hands and arms. The marks from the binding remained, denting my skin. I traced them, thinking.
Breeding me. That said mine more than anything else they had ever done.
Having to be still and endure the pain while they cut and removed the sutures wasn’t as awful as I thought it would be. It happened quickly and Axl held me on his lap while Grayson took them out. Only a few tugs made my stomach turn when the thread caught in my lip.
Afterward, washed, and sated, fed, and exceptionally tired, I curled up with them on the rooftop, under blankets and beneath the stars. I crawled up Grayson and lay there and I kissed Axl’s chest as he stretched an arm across my back and held me.
Then I sighed, soothed by the breeze. This was an eternal moment locked in time and in my memory.
If they could say it so could I. “You’re mine,” I told Grayson, kissing his lips. “And so are you.” I moved over and kissed Axl on the mouth. My own lips were swollen and abused, and I would have bruises soon, if not already.
The pain of those kisses made my act even more apt. Although they both sat up and pinned me down after that, to glower and tell me I was theirs and whether they were mine was up to them, I smiled.
I coaxed their hands to my mouth so I could suck on them both.
“Mine,” I whispered. “Make me not say it.”
Now that made them laugh. And call me a provocative bitch. And promise to cane me and crop my pussy once I was healed.
Romance was definitely in the air, this night, this merry, cum-adorned night.
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Copyright © Cari Silverwood 2011. All rights reserved. No part of these publications may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author.