Losers: Part I

I sprinted down the hall, their footsteps pounding right behind me. A hand brushed against my back as I ran down the stairs, but I was too quick. I grabbed the banister at the bottom and used it to swing myself toward the living room, but my feet slipped on the wooden floor and that mere second of hesitation gave Lucas the opportunity he needed.

He grabbed me from behind, one arm around my waist and the other seizing my throat and squeezing as I shrieked.

“Mm, little fighter, aren’t you?” His voice was a harsh whisper, dripping with eagerness. His lips brushed against my ear, his chest hard against my back. “I knew you would be.”

I slammed my elbow back, jabbing it into his side hard enough to loosen his hold. But my attempt at escape didn’t get me far. Manson was right there to grab my arm, and I twisted, pulling so hard that I slipped and sent us both sprawling to the floor.

Manson landed on top. He straddled me and wrapped his hand around my jaw, pinning my head down as he leaned over me and laughed. The sound sent a shiver all the way up my spine as Lucas walked into my field of vision, standing behind Manson’s shoulder.

“Now that wasn’t very nice,” Manson scolded. “Feisty little thing.”

“No getting away this time,” Lucas said. There was an energy to his voice that I hadn’t heard before — higher and faster than his usual tone, strained with hunger.

I scratched at Manson’s arms as his fingers dug into my face, leaving rivulets of blood blooming across his skin as he taunted me.

“You should be more careful about closing your curtains, Jess,” Manson said. “Waltzing around here with your ass hanging out, windows open…” Lucas crouched beside him and leaned over me, bringing his face close to mine. “It’s almost like you’re asking for it. Any old creep off the street could have come in here.”

“Poor little fucktoy,” Lucas murmured.

I bucked my hips, throwing Manson off balance for a moment and nearly slamming my arm into Lucas’s face. I twisted to my stomach and crawled, but one of them grabbed my ankles and dragged me back, screaming as I went.

“Where ya’ going, sweetheart?” Lucas had me now and his body pressed heavily against my back. “You look so goddamn angry. Do you know how fucking hard that gets me? I wonder how long you can keep looking at me like that while I tear open that tight little cunt.”

“I. Hate. You,” I growled, each word clipped and short, thrown at him like mere pebbles at a bear. Manson circled me as I lay pinned to the floor, then lifted his foot and pressed my skull down with his boot. Lucas was grinding against my ass, his weight squeezing the breath out of me.

“Fuck yeah, keep squirming,” he said, his voice tight. “Such a little tease, isn’t she, Manson?”

“Always has been,” he said, pressing my head down a little harder. “Always will be.”

Lucas’s hard cock pressed against me through his jeans. Liquid fire rushed through my veins, igniting every nerve, fear and excitement overtaking me. I kicked and struggled as if my life depended on it, as if I actually hoped for an escape.

But there was no escape. I really had asked for this.

Good girls didn’t get railed on the kitchen floor while they screamed how much they hated the men fucking them, but there I was.

“You sick bastards!” God, it felt good to scream, but I was already so out of breath. They were stronger than me, controlling me like I was nothing. Lucas tugged at my oversized shirt, rough fingers brushing over the nape of my neck before the fabric tore. He ripped through my t-shirt with his bare hands, then traced his fingers along my spine before he unclasped my bra.

“Stop!” I kicked my feet, hands scrambling against the floor. “Get the fuck off me!”

But I knew he wouldn’t. I didn’t want him to.

He tossed my clothes away, leaving only my panties, then he roughly squeezed my ass, fingernails digging into my skin.

“Cut them off her,” Manson said. There was a familiar sound, a click of metal. I sharply sucked in a breath, stiffening when something cold and hard tapped against my leg. It slid under the side of my panties, and Lucas tugged, slicing the knife easily through my underwear. He did the same thing on the other side and pulled the ruined fabric off me, leaving me entirely naked.

For a moment, one that seemed suspended in another reality, Lucas leaned down close to my ear. “Are we doing this, Jess? Still think you’re ready to play?”

I let my muscles relax for those brief few seconds as I said, “We’re doing it. Don’t fucking stop.”

Then the moment shattered, and Lucas chuckled low and dark in my ear. Manson removed his foot from my head, but it came with a command. “Get her up.”

Lucas hauled me to my feet, his fingers gripping my hair. Manson pulled a chair out from the table, scraping it harshly across the floor, and Lucas shoved me into it.

The moment my ass hit the chair, Manson caught me by the throat. I gripped his wrist, digging my nails into the scratches I’d given him. But my grip loosened as Lucas handed the knife back to him, and Manson brought the weapon close to my face.

“I can scratch too, angel,” he said. “But my scratches will hurt a lot more than yours.”

He traced the very tip of the blade across my cheek, and I didn’t dare move. I remained completely rigid, gulping hard against his hand. Lucas stripped off his vest, the numerous pins affixed to it clicking when he tossed it down on the table. He whipped his belt out of his jeans and they sagged low on his hips, showing off the muscular V that led down from his abs. He came closer, doubling over the belt and snapping it together.

“Put your arms down,” Manson said, his voice low in warning. “Or I make you bleed.”

I lowered my arms to my sides. My heart pulsed against my ribs and my stomach felt hollow as Lucas wrapped the belt around my waist and arms, then secured it behind the chair, pinning my elbows to my sides. Only then did Manson release my throat and took a step back, regarding me thoughtfully.

The butterfly knife flipped open and closed in his fingers, the weapon spinning like a toy. Lucas was behind me, lurking just out of my sight. I could hear his boots pacing slowly across the wood floor.

“Don’t feel like you should give up the fight,” he said, suddenly pulling my head back by my hair so I was forced to look up at him. He gave my cheek a few sharp, stinging pats before he released me. “I like my toys interactive. It’s so much more fun when they scream.”

“You do have the prettiest screams,” Manson said, his voice frighteningly sweet. He came closer, and a whimper of alarm burst out of me as he traced the blade over my breast and tapped the flat of it against one of my pierced nipples.

“Sensitive, aren’t they?” He moved the knife away and pinched the hardened bud between his thumb and forefinger, forcing a shocked gasp from my mouth. “Does that hurt?”

“No.” I grit my teeth, inhaling sharply. “Not sensitive…I don’t…I don’t care…”

The fridge’s ice dispenser turned on behind me, followed by the familiar sound of cubes clinking into a glass. I jumped when Lucas’s fingers brushed the back of my neck, shockingly cold as he swept my hair to the side.

“This ain’t some Mr. Darcy courtship, sweetheart.” Lucas reached over my shoulder, clutching an ice cube in his fingers as Manson stepped back. He trailed it over my skin, cold water dripping onto my thighs. “This is payback.”

He swirled the ice around my nipple and at the same moment his lips pressed against my neck. I jolted, the burning cold almost as shocking as the tenderness of his mouth. Lips and tongue explored my neck, warm and sparking with pain when he nipped me.

Then that initial tenderness vanished. He bit me hard, drawing my flesh into his mouth, teeth digging in. I screamed in shock, but Manson was quick, pressing his hand over my mouth to muffle the cry. Lucas suckled the bruised skin as he swirled the ice over my nipples, first one and then the other.

“Are you still going to lie to us?” Lucas hissed. “Or are you ready to admit how sensitive you are?”

Manson uncovered my mouth but kept a grip on my face. I choked down the desperate, needy sounds that kept trying to escape from my mouth as he said expectantly, “Well? What do you have to say now?”

“No!” I snapped, even though the word nearly broke as Lucas used one hand to roll my nipple between his fingers, tugging lightly at the jeweled bar pierced through it.

“No,” Lucas repeated slowly. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “What do you think of that, Manson? She says no.”

“Good girls don’t say no,” Manson said, smiling like he pitied me.

“Fuck you.” I managed to get the words out without groaning, but my self-control was short-lived.

Lucas’s hand dipped down, cold water dripping over my stomach as the ice melted. I caged my scream behind clenched teeth as he pressed the ice against my clit. It was so cold, jolting my nerves with all the finesse of a car slamming through a brick wall. He swirled the cube around, over my labia, and then down —

He pressed it inside me. The sensation was different than anything I’d ever experienced, so unexpected that for a moment my mind was an utter blank. I strained against the belt, my thighs squeezing his hand, and a desperate high-pitched moan escaped me.

Lucas withdrew his fingers and the ice with it. I was left shaking, gasping with my head hung down. It hurt, but God, it was good. My pussy ached for something warm and my eyes fell on the bulge in Manson’s jeans.

“What’s wrong, girl?” Lucas said, the ice clinking as he went for another cube.

“Please not again, fuck, please!”

Lucas looped his arm around my neck, and his muscles flexed, bicep and forearm squeezing my throat.

“Nervous?” Manson said. He placed his palms on my knees and it was shockingly easy for him to force my legs apart, spreading them wide. “A sensitive little slut like you should be nervous.”

“Please, please, please, oh my God.” The words burst out of me as I strained against their grips.

Ice dripped on my chest as Lucas held up another cube in front of my face. “No? You don’t want it?” I shook my head, begging still, my words running together. “Oh, but I think you do.”

I bucked and squealed, “Lucas, please! No, no, no —”

“Aw, why are you fussin’ now?” he murmured, trailing the ice over my thighs and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Manson followed the ice with his tongue, the sensation of cold ice and hot mouth throwing my nerves into a frenzy. “You said you’re not sensitive. But by the sound of that scream, I know that’s not true.”

Scream? But I hadn’t —

Lucas pressed the ice against my clit and got exactly the sound he wanted out of me. God, could the neighbors hear this? Did they think I was being murdered?

“I lied, okay? I lied!” I babbled, my voice trembling as he mercilessly circled the ice over me. Manson rested his cheek against my thigh, chuckling softly every time a pained sound burst out of me. “I’m sensitive, yes, you were right, you were so right, I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry!”

Lucas propped his chin on my shoulder. “Are you now? You think I should take this ice away and we’ll fill you with something better?”

“Oh God, yes.” I sounded pathetic, but I didn’t care. I would’ve begged them on my knees if they’d given me the option.

“Suddenly so eager,” Manson said, his dark eyes peering up at me. “Does a thick cock sound better than ice?” I nodded, still murmuring my pleas.

“It’s too bad I like the way you squirm when it’s inside you,” Lucas said. “The way you squeal.” He pressed the ice inside again, pumping it barely in and out of me. “Music to our ears, isn’t it?”

Manson held my trembling legs apart, mocking my desperate gasps before he said, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

“Here’s your choice, Jess,” Lucas said, so damn conversational while I was a gasping wreck. “One hole gets our cocks, the other gets the ice. What’ll it be?”

Oh God, no. How was I supposed to handle that? I’d be a screaming, shaking mess. I’d…I’d be exactly how they wanted me to be. Unraveling in their hands while they used me like a toy.

“Both of you? At the same time?” I looked at Manson as I said it, wide-eyed, imagining the girth of their cocks side by side. I wouldn’t survive it; of that much, I was certain. Death via destroyed pussy was impending.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that,” Lucas growled in frustration, as if my lack of readiness was a personal insult. “We have to break you in first.”

Manson nodded in agreement. “As fun as it would be to rip that little pussy open and make you bleed, we won’t do that to you. Yet.”

The anticipation in that word made my heart throb painfully. Not yet? Yet?

Lucas grabbed my hair and gave it a tug. “What’ll it be? Pick which hole gets it.”

Quietly, as softly as I possibly could, I gave him my answer.

“What was that? Speak up, girl.”

“My ass,” I said, still barely above a whisper. “I want you to fuck my pussy and put the ice in my ass.”

If it was possible to die from embarrassment, I would have dropped dead from saying that.

Lucas loosened the belt and Manson tugged me to my feet, kicking the chair out of his way. With one hand around my throat, he walked me backwards until my butt hit the kitchen table, his body crowding close to mine.

“Are you ready to be a good girl for us?” he said as Lucas’s arms wrapped around his chest. Lucas rested his chin on Manson’s shoulder, tenderly kissing his neck. He tugged at the neckline of Manson’s shirt, pulling it aside so he could bite. Manson didn’t wince at the pain; he smiled.

I nodded quickly, shivering at the touch of the table’s cool wooden surface on my naked skin. “I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.”

He smirked, regarding me as Lucas’s nails dragged down his chest. “Should I let Lucas fuck you?”

The other man stiffened at the sound of his name, growling softly as he popped the button on Manson’s jeans. It was like he couldn’t stop touching, as if he craved the contact so much that he was on the verge of ripping Manson’s clothes off.

Watching them had my insides clenching with need. “Please,” I said. “Yes, please, let him fuck me.”

Lucas slipped his hand into Manson’s jeans, stroking him. Manson closed his eyes for a few seconds, his breath deepening as he savored Lucas’s touch. All my desire that had been torturously building throughout the morning hit its peak. I wanted them, both of them, in whatever way they wanted to take me. I dared to reach out, cupping my hand over the bulge in Manson’s jeans so my hand moved in unison with Lucas’s.

Softly, darkly, Manson said, “Lucas, do you want to fuck her?”

The other man’s eyes were black as night when he looked at me. “Yes. I want to make her scream.”

“Ask nicely.”

Lucas bared his teeth for a moment and buried his mouth against Manson’s neck as if to keep the words inside.

“Please let me fuck her.” He said it like it was a curse. He sounded so desperate, like it physically pained him to ask, as if the longing was unbearable.

The desire in his voice was one of the sexiest things I’d ever heard.

Manson’s fingers dug into my throat as he kissed me. His kiss was deep, possessive, consuming the breath right out of my lungs. I was wound so tight I was shaking, hot and cold clashing inside me, creating a storm I couldn’t escape.

When Manson pulled back, my eyes fluttered open to see him drawing Lucas closer. Lucas caught me, hands gripping my hips as Manson kept a hold on my throat. Then he was kissing me, ravenously, making my legs go weak.

Lucas wanted to hurt me. I could feel it in the way he pressed himself against me, hard and heavy. When his teeth caught my lip and bit down, I returned his viciousness, raking my nails down his back. It was a war of who could be harder, whose breath would catch first.

Then both of their mouths were on me at once, our tongues twining. It was messy, ravenous, their tastes mingling together as I moaned.

“Please fuck me,” I said. I wanted them out of their clothes, and I tugged at the hem on Manson’s shirt. He hurriedly whipped it off, tossing it to the floor. Lucas lifted me, setting me down so I was sitting atop the kitchen table. He pressed me back until I was lying flat, and Manson helped him, drawing my legs up toward my chest.

“Hold your legs up,” Manson said. “Grip your thighs, keep them spread.” I obeyed, holding my legs and spreading them until I was completely exposed. Manson stood on my left side with Lucas between my spread legs, hands tracing my inner thighs as I shivered.

“God, I’ve waited so fucking long to have you like this,” Lucas said. He reached back, grabbed the sweating cup of ice from the island and set it on the table. He hurriedly unzipped his jeans before he gripped my ass, spreading me open even more.

“What a sexy little fucktoy you are,” Lucas said. He stroked my clit, my body twitching at the pleasure he drew out of me. He kept rubbing me and then his mouth was on me, tongue moving over my puckered asshole. I gasped, panting as Manson leaned over.

His mouth replaced Lucas’s fingers on my clit, and I saw stars.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Lucas growled. He paused to grab one of the ice cubes and pop it into his mouth, then he was back between my cheeks. I shuddered as his tongue probed my ass, his mouth cold as he rimmed me. He pushed the ice forward, pressing it against me before sucking it back. All the while, Manson’s tongue flicked over my clit with merciless focus.

“God, that feels so good,” I gasped. “Please…please don’t stop.”

The table creaked beneath me, my muscles shaking violently. All thoughts emptied from my head as I shook with pleasure.

“Fuck, Manson! Lucas, please!” I cried out their names as my back arched, convulsing with ecstasy as I came. They didn’t stop until I was spent, until my cries grew frantic from overstimulation.

I lifted my head in time to see them kiss, Lucas licking my arousal from Manson’s chin.

“I’ll fuck her throat,” Manson said, his voice rushed, shaking. “And you make her scream.” Lucas nodded hurriedly, chest heaving. He stripped out of his clothes, and Manson came to my side, angling my upper body closer to the edge of the table.

He tugged down his briefs enough to allow his cock to spring free, inches from my lips. Pre-cum glistened on his head, and I opened my mouth eagerly, longing to taste him.

He gripped his shaft, stroking himself slowly.

“Do you want it?” he said, bringing himself teasingly close. “Want me to fuck your throat?”

“Yes, sir.” I nodded, gripping my legs even tighter as Lucas’s finger began to tease my ass.

Manson gripped the back of my head, pressing into my open mouth. He paused when he hit my throat, giving me a moment to adjust before he was fucking me in earnest, hard and fast. Every jerk of his hips hit deep, activating my gag reflex embarrassingly easily. Over the sounds of my own choking gasps, my body alight with the burning afterglow, I heard Lucas spit and his finger swirled the saliva over my hole.

Then the ice pressed against me again.

“Ahh, fuck!” My words were garbled, indiscernible, as Lucas pushed the cube inside. It wasn’t very big and was melted smooth, but it wasn’t the size that made it difficult. I squealed at the shocking ache, and then the unbearable cold as it settled inside me.

“God, that feels good,” Manson groaned. He gave a few more hard thrusts into my mouth before he eased out of me, wincing as if it pained him. His reddened head was swollen, his balls drawn up tight. He was edging, holding himself back. He gripped my hair tight as he bowed his head for a moment, breathing deeply to steady himself.

Lucas stood between my legs, his pupils dilated as he stared down at me, stroking himself. His naked body was covered in tattoos, from his shoulders to his thighs. A curved metal bar was pierced through his cock, one silver ball positioned low on his slit and the other nestled behind his head.

“I want you to watch Lucas fuck you,” Manson said, looking down at me. “Beg him for it, go on, let him hear you.”

I did, babbling my pleas. Lucas’s cock jumped as my voice broke in anticipation, a primal growl ripping from his mouth.

“Fuck yes, scream for me,” he said, pressing inside. My swollen pussy took him greedily, slick as he sunk in deep. The smooth ball on his piercing stroked me, strange and foreign, but so damn good. He was warm, blazing inside me in comparison to the cold of the ice cube in my ass.

He pounded into me, the slap of our skin loud as it echoed through the kitchen. Manson watched with rapt attention, encouraging me, “That’s it, angel, take his cock. Fucking take it all.”

“Lucas!” His name fell broken from my lips, punctuated with a sob. The table groaned at his pace, squeaking on the tile. He gripped my legs, his hands closing over my own as he jerked me toward him with every thrust.

“This is what you needed, isn’t it?” he said. “A good, hard fuck to teach you your place, remind you whose pussy this is.” I groaned, clenching around him. “I don’t care how many cocks you’ve had. I don’t give a single fuck how many bodies you’ve been with. This pussy is ours and it has always been ours.”

The pleasure tightened low inside me, pulsating, reverberating through my limbs. “It-it hurts…so good…”

“Say it,” Manson ordered, keeping a grip on my hair as Lucas pounded me. “Whose pussy is this, Jessica?”

“Yours!” I cried out as Lucas’s brutal pace wrenched animalistic sounds from me. My legs were twitching, every stroke drawing out my ecstasy until I couldn’t think.

“That’s right,” Lucas growled. “That’s fucking right. And we’re going to wreck this cunt for anyone else, you hear me?

I nodded mindlessly. Lucas fucked me like he hated me, my cries spurring him on until he was throbbing inside me. He clenched his teeth as he slowed, pressing himself so deep that it ached.

Manson’s voice cut through the blanket of pleasure smothering my brain. “I think we should leave her with a reminder of who owns her, pup.”

“Damn right.” Lucas’s voice was ragged as he leaned over me, his face looming before my tear-filled eyes. “You’re going to get on your knees and take our cum on your face, little fucktoy.”

I gasped as he pulled out of me. I was pulled up from the table, dizzy and stumbling, and Manson shoved me to my knees. They both stood over me, shoulder to shoulder. Lucas jerked his cock inches from my face, his expression caught somewhere between agony and ecstasy as he groaned. He was rough with himself, body coiled like a spring. Manson stroked himself rapidly, breath shuddering, teeth bared.

“Please,” I said. “Please come on my face.”

“Fucking…Christ…” Lucas’s cock twitched as he came, hot semen spurting over my skin. Manson followed almost immediately after, hard stuttering breaths accompanying every pulse of his cock. Their seed dripped over my cheeks, my lips, my chin. Marking me, claiming me.

Reinforcing what I already knew — they owned me.