This whole experience is degrading, and if Slade’s fat cock weren’t deep in my pussy, I’d probably tell them to take it easy. But my hole is stretched for the first time in forever, and it feels so good that I don’t dare complain for fear that he’ll take his dick away.
“You’re a slut, aren’t you?” Hawthorne says. He sounds surprised, and while I think it’s supposed to be an insult, there’s an unexpected note of tenderness in his voice.
“Go fuck a land mine,” I snap. Because no matter how he says it, it’s not a compliment.
A broad palm slaps my ass hard, driving the breath right out of my lungs. Then Romeo is kneeling beside my head. Frankly, it’s impressive that a man of his size is able to get down so low.
He tilts my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Is there confusion about how this works?” he asks. “You are submissive to us. You were rude to Hawthorne. Apologize.”
Whatever kindness was in his face before, it’s gone, and I realize I just alienated my only ally. And even if he was an ally who pinched my nipples mercilessly and told the others to throw me to the floor like a common whore, I need him on my side. I lick my lips and smile contritely. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not satisfied with the apology,” Hawthorne says. That punishing palm slams against my ass, and I gasp. Slade pushes deep again. My pussy is dripping down my thighs.
Romeo strokes my cheek, but his face is still hard. “You have so much to learn.” Without moving his eyes from mine, he says, “Let’s take her into the back.” He rises easily, gracefully, leaving a waft of that expensive cologne in his wake.
Slade slowly pulls out of my pussy, and my whole body sags in dismay. Barely a second passes and then I’m hauled up by my hair again. It doesn’t surprise me to learn that I’m in Hawthorne’s pitiless grasp.
He yanks my head back, pulling me off balance, and his eyes drill into mine. “You can use your safe word whenever,” he says. His tone implies he thinks I should use it now. It’s a taunt, and I’d like to curse at him again, but given how these men treated me when I wasn’t being disciplined, I decide to keep my mouth shut and see what they have in mind before I rack up more punishments.
Chapter 7
The back room, despite sounding like something I’d expect to find in a rest stop convenience store, is actually a very nice office. Why Hawthorne has so many personal offices makes no sense. Maybe he ran out of things to spend his money on.
The theme is black. It could be tacky, but the quality of everything—three padded sofas, a desk larger than a football field, two-toned black paintings à la Rothko on the walls—makes it sophisticated. Even the statue on the coffee table, a woman entwined with three men, is tasteful.
Hawthorne flings me at one of the sofas, and I stumble into it, breaking my fall with my arms. I knew he was going to do it because a moment before he launched me, I felt him shifting his weight back, giving me a clear and intentional warning that something like this might be coming.
I stay where I am, my hair flipped over my head and covering my face and arms in a platinum waterfall, one of my legs awkwardly on the floor, the other bent almost underneath me. I hope this makes an alluring visual for the men because I’ve already earned one unknown punishment; I want them to think favorably of me.
The sofa smells like money. It really does. I uncurl my fingers and press my hands into the supple, slightly textured surface, and I sigh softly.
Then someone is opening my legs wider. I arch my back slightly. Please let my punishment be fucking, please let it be hard fucking, I plead silently.
But I hear a slight metallic clank, then a belt whispering free from loops, and my head comes up. I’ve been spanked with a belt before in the bedroom, so I know a man’s suit belt is narrow and stiff. In my experience, it’s the flexible whips that cause the most pain. Something tells me I might be about to learn something new.
“Hold her down,” Hawthorne says, and Romeo’s paw-sized hands wrap around my wrists. I look up at him, pleading, but my hair covers most of my face, and he can’t see my expression.
There’s a high whistling sound, and then the belt’s strap licks across my buttocks. For a moment I don’t feel anything.
And then I scream.
It doesn’t hurt that bad, but it’s better to let the men believe I’ve got a low tolerance for pain. There’s a second strike, a second scream—louder but less exaggerated—then Romeo releases my wrists.
I push my hair out of my eyes and thank my lucky stars it’s over. But then I see that Romeo’s pants are tented straight up. Not for long, though… He’s already unzipping his pants and pulling himself out.
He steps away, but I’ve already gotten a glimpse of the biggest, thickest cock I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s gigantic, bigger around than my wrist. Mouthwatering.
That is so not a problem for me. I don’t mind feeling overstuffed, and since this is only going to be for one night, it’s not like he can permanently stretch things out down there.
But then he sits on the sofa beside me. I’m nose-to-cock with him, and I can smell his faint masculine musk. The intoxicating scent shoots straight to my pussy, and I’m so distracted that I don’t even think about what it means that he’s sitting next to my face until he gathers up my hair.
I gasp slightly. The idea of having to suck his monstrously large cock is ridiculous. There’s too much of him. At the same time, I am curious what he tastes like, and I’m sure he’ll soon realize my mouth isn’t spacious enough to accommodate all, or even most, of him.
“Lick your lips. Get your mouth wet. I don’t like a dry mouth on my dick,” he says.
Looking up at him, I lick my lips slowly, generously. The effect I’m having on him is obvious in the way he exhales suddenly.
Then he’s urging my head onto his cock.
As predicted, I can only comfortably get the swollen head into my mouth. His skin is amazingly smooth, but I suppose that’s because it’s so stretched.
I suck him as well as I can, and when I hear a whistle, I don’t realize what it means until the belt whips across my ass again.
My cry is muffled, but I must have opened wider because Romeo intrudes another full inch into my mouth.
He’s blocking my airway, and I’m thinking there’s no way this guy has ever gotten all his meat into a woman’s throat. It’s not possible.
But he’s acting like he intends to make it happen right now, with me. And I’m starting to freak out because I don’t know which is the bigger threat: getting thrashed again by Hawthorne or being slowly choked to death by Romeo.
The cock in my mouth is the bigger problem, I quickly realize. I feel my face heating and my lungs are screaming for oxygen. Romeo lifts my head, lets me choke down a few gasps, then he forces me down again. One of his hands is wrapped in my hair, the other is firm on my neck. I can’t help but notice that he pulses his hips, wanting more.
He’s really horny. He probably wants to fuck my mouth the way Hawthorne did, but it’s just not possible, and I’m so relieved that he understands that.
I push against him, but I refuse to call a time out. He continues his unrelenting progress into my body. It is, finally, too much, and I’m about to stop it, but then he eases up a bit.
This is my chance, and I grab it. Enthusiastically, I bob my head on the swollen tip, sucking him hard. I don’t need to suck the whole throbbing, veiny thing to get him off, and once I do, I won’t have to worry about him killing me.
Hopefully he’ll recover quickly because I’ve been anticipating getting fucked by him.
The belt wallops my ass, three times in quick succession. I cry out, Romeo takes his advantage and then some, and someone is lining his cock up with my pussy. Relieved and desperate, I thrust my hips back; if Hawthorne is fucking me, he can’t smack me with the belt.
But Romeo doesn’t agree with my priorities. He wraps his fingers tighter in my hair and bounces me up and down on his shaft. My jaw aches, and my eyes a
re filling with tears. But Hawthorne feels so amazingly good in my pussy that I’m clenching around him. I’m not about to orgasm, though. I need to be relaxed for that.
Later, I’m sure I’ll think about this and masturbate like crazy, but right now, I’m barely holding it together.
Romeo gives me a reprieve, but it’s useless because Slade is now pressed up against the edge of the sofa, his cock out. He’s not wearing the condom, but I taste latex and lube as he slams himself deep. Only for a second, though, and then he tastes like a man who wants to come.
Romeo controls my head on Slade’s cock, making me fuck him fast, then slow, then fast. Then he shoves my face onto his own dick again, and the sounds of male satisfaction fill the room.
“Suck me, baby, like that. Yeah, Lindsay, just like that…”
Hawthorne slams me hard, forcing me even deeper onto Romeo. All of these men are close to orgasm. I can feel it in Hawthorne’s fucking, and I can taste it on the two cocks I’m being forced to suck in alternation.
There’s the ripping sound of an opening condom, then Slade steps back. I can’t see what he’s doing because Romeo is schooling me on his dick. Miraculously, I’m handling three-quarters of it. I can’t take the credit; he pushed himself in there. And there’s nothing beautiful or sexy about it. I’m a gagging, choking mess, and my body keeps going stiff in panic, which makes Hawthorne fuck me even harder.
“Good job, Lindsay,” Romeo says as he releases my head. But before I can pull away, he gently strokes my hair. “Stay here,” he says. “Long as you can. Hold your breath for me, suffer for me. It’s hot.”
So I do what he asks, sucking lightly on his cock, my throat trying to swallow. All that does is massage him further. The fight has drained out of me. I’d be helpless before even one of these men, even if they weren’t so muscular. They’re powerful, and they’re rich. They could buy me, buy my life, my world. Or they could take me the way they have, stripping me down, making me suck and fuck them, spanking me.
Where I’m soft, they’re hard and insistent. Where I’m hesitant, they’re headstrong. While I’m inexperienced with kink at this level, the three men know exactly what they’re doing. They have every advantage. I’m not weak, but here, in Hawthorne’s expensive office, surrounded by these gorgeous billionaires, I’m… pliable.
For protection, all I have is one three-letter word.
Hawthorne has pushed himself all the way into my slick pussy, and he’s not moving. After a few moments, all I can feel is the sensation of being stuffed full. It makes my legs tremble with anticipation… and worry that he’ll stop.
I run out of breath but keep trying to suck Romeo. With him not moving, I can feel his pulse all around my mouth. That’s how stretched around him I am. I want to please him. It’s the first time in years that I’ve cared what someone else thinks, and there’s no explanation for it; it’s not like we had a deep conversation that convinced me that Romeo should be someone important in my life.
It was all in the way he fucked my mouth, using me, pushing me far past my limits but keeping me safe.
Even as he slowly pulls out of my mouth, I have to admit that I was safe, and still am. He has impeccable control.
“That was very good,” he says. “Next time you’ll take even more of me.”
Massaging my jaw, I say, “I think maybe that’s enough for tonight.”
He smiles. “Not disagreeing with you.”
Before I can ask if he’s suggesting we repeat this debauchery, Hawthorne pulls free from my pussy, and I gasp. That makes Hawthorne laugh. Without even looking at him, I know I’m being mocked, but I don’t care.
Slade has wrapped his cock in a fresh condom, and he sits on another sofa. “Come here,” he says.
My legs are stiff as I push to standing. I slowly walk over to him, and I can feel the eyes of all the men on me.
“Turn,” he says.
I turn and begin to lower myself onto him.
“No. Not yet. Give me your hands.”
I thrust my arms out behind my back because something about Slade makes me trust him, even if I suspect he’s got his share of secrets and darkness. That he’s here, doing this, is proof of that.
Slade wraps his fingers in mine, squeezes gently, a silent promise that everything will be ok. Then he flattens my hands against my buttocks. “Hold yourself open for me and sit your ass on my dick,” he says.
I twist to stare at him in disbelief.
Chapter 8
“Eyes forward,” Hawthorne growls, and Slade smacks me lightly, right on top of what I immediately realize is a fresh, tender welt.
He doesn’t give me another command. None of them do. I’m aware of how naked I am, how vulnerable. Finally I do as Slade requested. The skin on my ass is thoroughly marked; I can feel the puffy weals under my palms.
“Not enough. Pull your cheeks up and out,” Slade says, and my face burns hot, but I do it. Air touches my body in places I’m not used to.
“Sit,” he says. I understand that I’m not to change my position otherwise, so I don’t. It’s awkward. Slowly, I lower myself, and I feel a squirt of cool wetness hit my pucker. A light, clean scent fills the air, and Slade tosses a tiny bottle of lube to the side.
“Come on,” he says. But he doesn’t help me along. It would be so much easier if he just pulled me down and put his cock into me, but I think he’s enjoying my discomfort.
The head of his cock nudges at my rear, and I clench up. “Bad girl,” he says.
Some kind of understanding passes between the other two men, who are both standing there with throbbing erections that are pointed right at me.
They approach together. Hawthorne leans over me. My legs are trembling as I fight to keep myself suspended over Slade’s large cock. Soon my muscles will give out, and I’ll end up impaled on him. I’m not looking forward to that.
“You’re doing great,” Hawthorne says. I blink, trying to decide if it’s really Hawthorne being so kind and considerate. But then I realize he’s probably doing it because his cock is hard. “We’ll challenge you, but we won’t overwhelm you,” he says. I remember how much he seemed to want me to run away earlier. Maybe he’d never meant it.
Or maybe I’m right, that he’s just really horny and unfulfilled, and it’s easier to calm me down than to go out and pick up a new woman at this point.
I don’t have too much time to obsess over it because he’s leaning in, and when his lips gently touch mine, all rational thought flees my mind.
Hawthorne is a great kisser. This is nothing like before. He’s gentle and firm, possessive and demanding, but he’s also listening, his tongue stroking mine, enticing me, whipping me into desperation.
He’s pushing me, and my back is against Slade’s front. Slade’s shirt is soft, but underneath is a rock-hard chest. As he breathes slowly and deeply, I rise and fall on him.
What I don’t do is slide down. His cock has made some progress, the very tip nudged up tight against my pucker, but not even the full head is inside my ass. Even Hawthorne’s kiss can’t make me relax that much.
Slade grabs my hips, hard, preventing me from moving away. He doesn’t, however, urge me onto his shaft, and I wonder why that is. Heaven knows he’s breathing harder now, getting more excited. Something is about to happen, but I don’t have a clue what it is.
Hawthorne has propped himself against the sofa. His free hand roams down my body, grazing the swell of my breast, the flat of my stomach. He goes lower, and even though I know where he’s going and why, when his finger thrusts into my pussy, it still feels unexpected.
I gasp into his mouth, and I feel him smile briefly before resuming his kiss.
I could be kissed by this man all day. I really, really could, and as a bonus, it’d stop him from saying condescending things.
My thighs are straining, exhausted, and that’s not good. My hips are trying to thrust onto Hawthorne’s hand, to pull away from Slade’s cock. But I can’t do either because
Slade’s grip is uncompromising.
The wetness of my pussy makes Hawthorne’s touch glide. I knew I was excited, but I think I’m dripping with anticipation and lust. My nipples tighten harder.
A large, warm hand presses on my stomach. I open my eyes—when did I even close them?—and see that Romeo is staring down at me. I wonder what I must look like, leaning up against one man, another man kissing me. Not to mention the fact that they’re all dressed and with only their cocks out, but I’m stripped naked, highlighting the imbalance of power.
If the expression on his face is anything to go by, it’s a good look.
Romeo’s fingers beeline to my clit, and I’m lost. I hadn’t thought I could orgasm, but if he continues it’s a possibility, maybe even an eventuality.
But then he stops. And Hawthorne stops his explorative kisses.
As both men straighten and step away, my need for them balloons into desperation.
“Let me in,” Slade murmurs into my ear. He nibbles my earlobe and presses his swollen cock head against my ass.
I try to relax, I really do, but I’m wound so tightly. I’ve had anal sex before, but usually there’s at least a bit of alcohol involved for both parties.
“This would be easier if I were drunk,” I say.
“If you were drunk, we wouldn’t touch you,” Hawthorne replies, his tone icy. His face has changed, too. The gentleness of before is… gone. To look at him now, it’s like I imagined it.
Except my lips are still buzzing from his kisses. Suddenly, I’m taken by the urge to know him better… to know them all better. They aren’t lots older than I am, but I’ve never met anyone like them.
Exhaling, I force myself to relax, and Slade presses. “Not enough,” he says.
“Then just take it,” Hawthorne snaps. “She doesn’t respond to coddling, obviously.”
I make a strangled noise, but part of me is relieved at the suggestion.
“Hawthorne’s probably right,” Romeo says. He leans on the sofa and I wonder what it’s made of that it doesn’t collapse under all this weight. My breath turns quick and shallow as I stare up into his dark brown eyes. He’s got the most masculine jaw and forehead I’ve ever seen. The rest of him, too. Put him in a football uniform complete with helmet and no one would blink. Only his features, which are perfectly symmetrical, ruin the effect. It makes me wonder how women usually respond to him, if they’re attracted to his strength or to his beauty.
Executive Toy Page 5
