After another pass, I picked up jerking him off to give the other greedy dick equal attention. Sucking him back, I jackhammered him into my throat, letting my training take over when his hands fisted in my hair tighter and he took control. Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I let him use me, his pleasure igniting my own gratification deep within my body. A gratification that had been dormant for too long.
Using my free hand, I caressed my body down to my swollen clit and began rubbing myself, the friction fueling the already roaring inferno begging to take off within me.
“Are you playing with yourself?” One of them whispered.
“Ye—” I gagged, a cock still shoving its way down my throat.
“Don’t cum unless we say.”
“I need you to fuck me,” I responded, my fingers working dizzying circles towards my frenzied release.
“Soon,” was my only response.
Back and forth I took the two men’s cocks while puddles of saliva pooled between my breasts, and my fingertips worked my clit closer and closer to the edge. When it became too much, and I was dangerously close to finishing without permission, I plunged my fingers into my dripping pussy and fucked myself fast and tight. I was so close to breaking so many times, I knew it wouldn’t take more than a stiff breeze to fire off the climax my body so desperately needed.
Suddenly only one dick was in my mouth, and my waist was being hoisted into the air, bent forward with my left leg being slung over someone’s shoulder. The cock in my mouth was gentle, letting me take my time. I guessed it was Paxton. I didn’t mind the other man’s rough treatment, in fact, I enjoyed it just as much, but there was something about the way Paxton allowed me to decide how far I was willing to go that had me hungrier than ever for his cum.
The first slam into my cunt nearly knocked me to the floor, my blindfold slipping for just a second before it was righted on my face, but it was all the time I needed to see what was in front of me. The second slam had me cumming so fiercely, my leg gave out, but I was caught by four hands. Two hands belonging to Paxton, who was actually behind me, drilling into me, and the other two hands belonging to the man in front of me, with the gentle touch, and the number tattoos on his torso.
As my orgasm receded, both men picked me up and carried me to the bed as my mind raced with uncertainty and confusion. Face down, I was placed on top of a man I had come to hate.
It wasn’t possible. Preston, the man who had single-handedly ripped me apart more times than I could count was the second man in the room with me? The man I was currently laying on, the man who was sliding his tongue into my mouth and kissing me with a passion I had experienced only once before with his brother? It didn’t seem possible and yet it was.
For weeks, I had spent many hours with that man, scouring over his tattoos, concocting ways to rip the numbers from his flesh. To tie him up the same way he had done to me; beating him with the same ends of the whip he used to mar my flesh. The odds of another man, having identical number tattoos, with identical placement was slim. Paxton’s companion in my reward was Preston, and a slip of the blindfold was all it took for me to put two and two together.
My brain went into overdrive. I didn’t want this. Not from him, but I was so far past turned on by the two of them I had a hard time focusing on telling them no. What would happen if I told them I didn’t want this? Would I receive another punishment? Back and forth my brain waged a mental war in the span it took them to position me over Preston’s body.
I didn’t get to think about it long, though. As Preston wedged his hands between us, gripping onto his cock, and sliding it into my cum soaked pussy, my brain went into shut down mode, and my arousal spiked once more. Using his chest as leverage, I hoisted myself up into a seated position, lowering myself directly onto his cock, feeling the full extent of him deep inside of me.
“Fuck,” he gasped as I lifted myself up and plummeted back down. “Just like that.”
Every bounce of my hips earned me a hiss from his mouth and allowed me to rebuild the wall he had shattered inside of me. Maybe Preston wasn’t dead inside after all.
Just then, I felt Paxton climb onto the bed, standing behind me.
“Open.”
Tilting my head backward, and opening my mouth, I let him direct my lips onto his waiting shaft while Preston picked up in our rhythm where I left off. After just a second, enough to wet his length, Paxton pulled out of my mouth, and Preston pulled my torso flat on top of his.
I heard the lube, felt the cold gel slide between the crack of my ass before a gentle finger probed at my second hole. Paxton’s finger filled me, pressing down, caressing the wall between him and Preston’s pulsating cock. One quickly turned into two, and two into three as he scissored my tight hole, stretching it, and priming me for his invasion.
“Please,” I begged. “Please, I need you.”
“What do you need?” Preston asked from under me.
“I need both of you,” I squealed, the tip of Paxton’s cock teasing my entrance.
“Say it. Tell us exactly what you want. If you don’t tell us, we won’t know,” Preston intoned again, coaxing the words from me.
Saying what I wanted out loud was a foreign concept. How did I tell them I wanted Paxton to slam his cock so deep into my asshole, I could feel it in my throat at the same time Preston destroyed my pussy? How could I tell them, I wanted them to pull my hair, choke me, and smack me? How did I say I didn’t want hearts and flowers and romance, I wanted raw, and gritty and dirty? I didn’t want the cruelness Preston generally delivered, but I wanted dirty. I needed dirty.
My thoughts were interrupted again, as Paxton read my mind from behind and grabbed my hair, tugging it back towards him.
“We’re waiting.”
“I want you both to fuck me. Please fuck me hard with your cocks. I need your cocks! Please give it to me” I screamed as Paxton slammed into me from behind.
The bliss wasn’t something I could explain as Preston and Paxton took me with an intensity so powerful I lost count of the number of times I came. When Preston pulled out of my pussy, Paxton rammed back into my ass, before coming right back out and letting Preston submerge back in. Back and forth they abused my holes, making me cry out in pleasure and sweet agonizing, painful ecstasy.
I was flipped multiple times, Preston claiming my gaping asshole while Paxton clobbered my cervix. My hair was drenched in sweat, and my voice was hoarse, but it didn’t stop the screams. These men had the stamina of a fucking horse, and I was fucking exhausted, but I wasn’t anywhere near ready to stop.
Both men slowed their assault, gentling their thrusts before Paxton pulled out of my gushing cunt, and flipped me back around to lie on Preston’s chest.
“Are you ready, girl? For the grand finale?”
I didn’t know what that meant. How much more could possibly be done?
“Come on, beg us for more,” Preston whispered into my ear.
“Please, Master. Please, give me more of your cock,” I whispered, my breathing ragged.
“As you wish.”
Pushing his dick into my tender ass, Preston began a slow, tantalizing speed of gentle thrusting. The familiar feeling of fresh gel, smeared between us when another cock perched at my entrance. Out of instinct, my body perked up, but Paxton put his hand on my back, and gently coaxed me back down, rubbing and soothing me into a relaxed state, as Preston patted my hair that had nearly all but completely fallen out of my braid.
“That’s good, girl. Take us both. Feel both of us inside your tight asshole.”
Paxton pressed on slowly, his tip piercing through the ring of muscle, causing me to tense for only a moment before I relaxed and let it happen. With each inch he penetrated me, more warmth spread throughout my body. I felt like a black hole, opening, and allowing both men entrance to this secret part of me no one had claimed before my kidnapping. It was hell. It was heaven.
“Fuck,” I screeched when both cocks were tucked deep inside o
f me, filling my channel.
All at once they both moved, opposite of each other, never fully exiting. I could feel the both of them pressing into my g-spot, as I cascaded closer to another mind-blowing orgasm fearing it would rip me apart from the inside.
It didn’t take long before both men began pumping away at my abused orifice, careening their way to their own blissful conclusion, but I wasn’t focused on them as much as I was the one about to crash around me. Sliding my hand between mine and Preston’s body, I latched onto my clit and rubbed furious circles to claim the last orgasm for myself. To hold a little power in my hands, but they caught on too soon.
“Oh, no you don’t,” someone whispered, while my hand was slapped away. “Your orgasms are ours.”
A hand found its way back to my clit, although I didn’t know how, and pinched, sending me spiraling so fast I thought I would pass out from the avalanche of pleasure that flowed over me. I saw stars behind my eyes, as waves of pure pleasure cascaded around me, while both men continued fucking me.
“Fuck, Oh my God, Fuck!” I screamed, unable to bite my tongue. “Fuck me, Master. Fuck me, Paxton. Fuck me!”
With a mad dash to the finish line, the bed slammed against the wall as both men tore into me, tossing me into oblivion, keeping my orgasm rolling as jets of semen shot into my ass, through my body. They didn’t stop until both cocks were completely dry and milked of any remaining cum, limply falling out of me.
Paxton pulled out first, making me wince, and Preston fell out from underneath me, rolling me over and depositing me on the bed, before the bed dipped, leaving me on the hot, sweat stained mattress alone.
“Stay here, Wendy Darling,” Paxton called from the doorway, but I didn’t register it. My eyes were already closed, and sleep had already claimed my spent body, and my gluttonous free eyes, just as Paxton had promised me.
Chapter 11
I was floating on cloud nine without a care in the world. Well, maybe a few cares, but not ones I cared to dwell on. I had woken up a little sore, but that was to be expected. I, also, woke up in my own bed, clean, and tucked in like a child. I didn’t remember Paxton coming in and bathing me, and I didn’t remember him dressing me. I assumed he had tucked me in, but my foggy brain had issues recalling that as well, but I did remember one thing, crystal clear. Paxton, leaning over me and kissing me on the forehead.
“Goodnight, Wendy Darling, and sweet dreams. For when you wake, your assignments will progress in intensity, and I’m afraid this night will only be a memory. Please don’t let me down.”
Frowning, I thought about his words. How could my assignments increase past what they already were? I was counting over two hundred thousand squares a day, as it was. Was I meant to do it all blindfolded now? Did I have to count them all? What was going to happen? But the most important question was, after last night, how could I look at Preston the same way?
Preston, more so than Paxton, had been sensual with his love-making. Sure, the rough came out, especially when I begged for it, but he hadn’t forced himself down my throat, and he hadn’t hurt me past what I wanted. If I messed up my counting today would he go back to the monster hiding under my bed, or would he be like last night? I was afraid I already knew the answer to that question.
Standing up from the bed, I made my way to the bathroom and checked myself out in the mirror. I looked ragged, and run down. Dark black bags still sagged underneath my eyes, but there was an unmistakable glow around me, something you would only find on a person who had been satisfied beyond her wildest dreams.
The battle of emotions raged inside of me. I was living in bliss over the events of last night, and the way I currently felt physically, but on the other hand, I was petrified to open my letter for my daily lesson. This felt almost as nerve-wracking as the first day had been, and I never wanted to relive that day. As I had for the past month, I would do my best, and pray to God by some miracle, I did it right.
Another nagging thought flitted its way into my brain. Something Paxton had told me yesterday. I was the only girl who had ever gotten an answer right. Out of the twelve of us, I was the only one who had counted each square and not messed up, and the only one to receive a reward in return. Could it be done multiple times in a row? Could I prove to both Preston and Paxton I had what it took to be their perfect slave? And the bigger question was, did I want to be the perfect slave?
My head told me I did. That to survive, I needed to fight, and be the best I could be. Maybe, with a little bit of luck, and a little bit of help on Paxton’s side, I would get a decent Master who would treat me as more of a companion, and less of a slave.
My heart, on the other hand, rebelled, vehemently, as did my ego. Why should I be subjected to punishments I hadn’t earned because some sick and twisted monster decided I was to be the lucky girl, plucked from the streets and trained in his ways?
A raging headache started behind my eyes and traveled through my skull. This was too much to think about this early in the morning, and truthfully, I was a little angry my good mood bubble had officially popped.
Hopping in the shower, I turned the water on, and let the cold-water shock me awake before the warmth kicked in. I needed to be on point today and ready for whatever Preston threw at me. I didn’t know what to expect, but I was going to assume last night was a fluke, and he would be back to his callous ways today, especially if I fucked up.
My shower was quick. I wasn’t in the mood to dick around. If being in captivity for the last months had taught me anything, it was that it was better to get the unpleasantness out of the way first before I freaked out. Freaking out had accomplished me nothing in the past, and it certainly wouldn’t help now.
Figuratively putting on my big girl panties, I walked out into the room naked and headed towards my nightstand to retrieve my envelope of instructions.
Girl,
Your assignment is as follows:
Count the number of Purple squares.
Wear Nothing.
Put your hair in pigtails.
Do not let me down.
—P
When I looked up at the lit grid, my headache roared to life, making me clutch my skull. Nothing I had ever seen before was illuminated above me. Instead of twelve colors littering the grid, there were only three; black, white, and purple. The number of squares I had to count had quadrupled.
I was wrong last night. Preston had no humanity left in him, and this was absolute proof. After successfully being the first girl to get the correct number of squares, he had upped the ante and made it near impossible to pass this assignment.
I had expected tears, but that’s not what showed up. Instead, I was violently angry. A fury I had never had before raged inside of me, as I realized Preston was making sure I would never again pass his assignments. I could feel the wrath coil through me like a snake, weaving through my veins, from the tips of my toes through every strand of hair. My skin vibrated with intensity as my eyes burned with animosity.
My heart, beat wildly as I realized last night had been some sort of a joke. As much as I wanted to remember every detail of the way four hands adored my skin, and pummeled my body with exquisite pleasure and pain, all I could think about was the way Preston probably smirked, knowing today I would fail, and today he could exact his revenge again.
I hated him.
I hated him with the hot intensity of a thousand suns, and I hated him for making me think last night was something to remember or cherish. I hated him because now, I felt betrayed by not only Paxton but by my heart and my brain. I couldn’t trust anything or anyone, anymore.
Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I could feel the rebellion creeping in. Throwing the paper on the floor, I walked into the bathroom and headed for the closet. I was supposed to count today, naked, but I wouldn’t be giving them that satisfaction. I would take a little control into my own hands, and wear what I wanted, even if they stopped me two minutes in. I was going to do this for me. Otherwise, I would lose it c
ompletely, and my sanity was the only thing I had left.
Coming out of the bathroom wearing a T-shirt and boy shorts, I looked in the direction of one of the camera’s and flipped it off, before heading back to my bed, ditching my counting at the last minute and crawling underneath the covers.
“Count your own fucking squares you sick, sadistic FUCK!” I screamed, before tossing the blanket over my head, and turning on my side.
No one came in the entire time I laid there. No tray for breakfast was brought, and no plate for lunch, and with each passing second, my rebelliousness gave way to let in fear and uncertainty. I tried to remain strong, but my will was giving out. I only had four hours left before Preston came in to collect his punishment, and I hadn’t counted a single purple square.
When I could no longer handle the silence in the room or the way my brain shouted at me to get moving, I threw the blanket off of me and scrambled back to the bathroom. I could do this. Four hours was plenty of time.
Stripping off my clothes, and haphazardly throwing my hair into pigtails I frantically rushed back to the main room and started counting, but the feeling of being overwhelmed engulfed me, threatening to bring up the nothing that resided in my stomach.
After two hours, I had only managed to count a quarter of the room. Sweat poured from me as every punishment possible flowed through my brain and reenacted itself behind my eyes. I was a fucking idiot. There was no way out of here, and once again I had failed to do my best to ensure a tolerable Master bought me. I was never going to know freedom again. I had let Paxton down. I was trapped.
Click, Click, Click.
Green Light.
Panic washed over me. With two rows left in the room, I would barely make it in the thirty minutes before my light turned red, and I hadn’t taken my shower this afternoon. I would have to skip it, in hopes I miraculously got the answer right. If I did, my answer for a reward would be simple. Leave me alone. For just one night, leave me in peace.
Trapped: Her Love Story Page 10
