Losers: Part II

Their shoes pounded heavily as they circled me, and suddenly my blindfold was tugged down. I blinked rapidly in the light as I looked up at my captors.

The four men stood before me in the living room of a large cabin. The walls were polished wood; there was a stone fireplace to my left, and a sectional brown leather couch to my right. The mounted skulls of deer and moose hung on the walls. Light spilled in through the glass double doors ahead of me, which led out onto a wooden deck surrounded by pine trees.

“Welcome to your new home,” Jason said, pacing around me. “It’s time to break you into the obedient little cumslut you’ve always wanted to be.”

Those words felt like an electric bolt shooting straight through me. He tugged up my blindfold again, fitting it securely over my eyes and surrounding me in darkness.

“Cumsluts don’t need to see,” he said, patting my cheek. “You go where your masters tell you and you’ll be just fine.”

Another set of footsteps came closer. They walked past me, stroking their fingers through my hair as they tipped my head back.

“Open your mouth, angel.”

With a shiver, I obeyed. Manson’s fingers probed my mouth, pressing on my tongue and deep into my throat.

“Don’t pull away.” He gripped my hair to ensure I stayed in position, his voice firm when I gagged. “Learn to control yourself.”

He pressed two fingers into my throat and held them there. Tears welled in my eyes and dampened my blindfold as I tried to resist the urge to cough. Only when I got myself under control, managing not to gag on his fingers for nearly twenty seconds, did he let me go.

“That’s better.” He released my hair, circling me. “That’s a good slut. Your throat should always be ready for me, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Master,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“A toy like you is only good for pleasing her owners, is that understood?”

Nodding rapidly, I choked out, “Yes, Master.”

“Then you’re going to take whatever we give you, aren’t you? You’re going to spread your legs and let us use your pussy, your ass, your mouth. You can scream all you want, angel. But you’re going to be a good girl for us and take it.”

My deep breaths were making my head light. “Yes, Master. I’ll be a good girl and take it.”

Then, Manson gave a command.

“Strip her down.”

Hands grabbed me from all sides, pinning me to the floor. Someone gripped my shirt, and I gasped as it was ripped apart. Cold metal tapped against my chest, nudged under my bra strap, and with one quick tug, my bra was cut off. They pulled off my shoes, my socks, then my shorts and panties, too.

I was turned onto my stomach, and the blade that had cut my bra sliced through the tape around my wrists before it was peeled away.

“Spread her legs,” Manson said. “I want to see her beautiful pussy dripping for us.”

My ankles were grasped and spread. I lay there on my stomach, the cool air kissing over my flesh, exposed and helpless. Fingers probed me and spread my labia apart. Someone smeared Vincent’s cum over me and fingered me as if to push it back inside.

“Jason, eat her. Get your tongue inside her.”

Manson had barely finished issuing the order when Jason’s mouth closed over me. He stroked me with his tongue, eating me as enthusiastically as he would a five-course meal. My legs were held apart all the while, my hands grasping desperately on the smooth floor for something to hold on to.

“Oh God, that feels so good!” His tongue kept flicking my clit and it made my restrained legs twitch every time.

“You’re making her shake, J.” God, Vincent sounded so damn sexy. The usual humor was clear in his voice but his tone was low and thick with desire. “Do you like how I taste inside her?”

“Yes, sir,” Jason moaned the words against me, and I almost lost it. Every inch of me stiffened in desperate pursuit of the orgasm hovering out of my reach.

“Don’t let her come,” Manson said, and Jason’s tongue left my clit to trace teasingly around my entrance. I groaned, nudging my hips toward him, as if that would convince him to go against Manson’s orders.

“Such a desperate girl,” Jason said. It was like his mouth was draining brain cells out of me. I could barely speak. I could hardly think. “You can wiggle around all you want, but I’m not letting you come until Manson says.”

There was no way to convince him otherwise. I knew there wasn’t. But I still debased myself even further by whining, “Manson, please! I’ll be good, I’ll be such a good girl, I promise —”

“Of course you will,” Manson said. The sound of ice clinking into a glass put me on high alert, memories of Lucas holding me down and pushing ice inside me making me shiver. But it was followed by the trickle of pouring liquid and a subtle spicy scent in the air. “You’ll be good whether I let you come or not, won’t you, angel?”

“Yes, sir.” I wanted it so badly I could have cried. But I grit my teeth. My suffering was worship, and I wanted to show my respect, my desire, my longing in the only way I could.

Jason continued to tease as I gave up struggling. It was like he had a roadmap to my body that was frighteningly correct, focusing in on the spots that made me squirm the most. Every time I gave a reaction, he’d slow down and repeat whatever motion had gotten a noise out of me.

“Let her go.”

The moment Manson issued the command, I was released. Shivering as I lay there on the cool wooden floor, I didn’t move a muscle until he ordered me to do so.

Something tapped repeatedly in front of me, something heavy. “Crawl, angel.”

I got onto my hands and knees, but a heavy foot pressed me back down.

“Crawl on your fucking belly like the pathetic little creature you are,” Lucas said, removing his foot only once I’d whimpered an obedient, “Yes, sir.”

I squirmed forward, my stomach against the floor as I crawled toward Manson’s voice. Vincent was somewhere beside me, his voice a sadistic whisper as he said, “I can’t wait to make her ride your cock while I pound your ass.”

He was talking to Jason, and imagining his cock sunk deep inside me while Vincent fucked him — oh, God, yes, I wanted to experience that.

My head was buzzing, my body felt electric. I reached out and encountered a smooth leather toe, a thick sole, tight laces.

Ice clinked as Manson sipped the drink he’d poured for himself and told me, “You know what to do.”

God, yes, I did. I traced my nose along his boot, inhaling the rich scent of leather and the subtle chemical smell of polish. I kissed the toe, and my belly pinched, humiliation and desire squeezed into one strange feeling. I ran my tongue along the edge of his sole, brushed my nose against the laces.

Curled up at his feet, I was at his mercy. But I felt secure, safe. My trust for them didn’t leave any room for fear in my mind.

I trusted them more than anyone I’d ever met.

Manson shifted when I gasped softly, his tone immediately dropping from careless authority to concern. “Are you okay, Jess?”

Not lifting my head from where it was pressed against his boot, I nodded. “I’m okay. I’m better than okay.” A rush of emotion choked up my throat. Someone gently massaged my back, and I knew from the long fingers and absence of rings, it had to be Vincent. “This makes me feel so good. It makes me feel like I’m safe. Like I can just…”

God, it was so hard to put this into words. It was embarrassing, yes, but also the concept was still so new. Why did being controlled and overcome make me feel like everything was okay?

Vincent said gently, “There’s our good girl, that’s it. You can talk to us.”

That openness was part of what made this so amazing. I didn’t feel vulnerable because I feared being injured or hurt. I was vulnerable because I’d allowed myself to be. I’d told them what I wanted and they had chosen to fulfill that for me.

“I want to obey you,” I whispered, my lips tracing over the leather. “I want to worship you and let you use me however you want, sir. Please. Please use me.”

There was a smile in Manson’s words as he said, “I’m proud of you for saying that, angel. I like to hear you being honest with me.” There was a clink of ice on glass and another spicy whiff of whiskey. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes, Master, I do. Please.”

Something brushed my back. Something soft but heavy, with multiple trailing tassels that felt like leather.

“Sit on my boot and ride it. Grind on it. Try to come.”

Tingles burst out all over my skin. Pushing myself up to my knees, I wrapped my arm around Manson’s leg and drew myself closer. I couldn’t see him, but I could imagine him standing over me. Fully clothed while I was naked. In perfect control over everyone in the room.

I sunk down, grinding on the leather. The toe was smooth but the laces were rough, and it was hard to get the perfect angle, but I wanted it so badly. I rested my cheek against his leg, groaning as I bucked and rolled my hips.

Fuck, it did feel good. Rubbing my clit on the leather, my own arousal making it slick. I moved faster, gasping, chasing the pleasure.

“Get her ready.”

I wasn’t sure who the order was meant for, only that it wasn’t for me. A hand grasped the nape of my neck and a slick finger, covered with lubricant, probed against my anus.

“I’m going to fuck you right here,” Lucas said, close against my back as he pressed his finger past the tight ring of muscle. I cried out at the intrusion, and he repeated the motion; drawing his finger all the way back out, then in again.

“Keep grinding, angel,” Manson said. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

But now, grinding down on his boot meant also grinding on Lucas’s finger in my ass. He added a second finger, stretching me open, and I shuddered at how good it felt.

“Oh my God…” I kept moving, grinding back and forth, arching my back to get him deeper inside me. “More, please…please…”

“Yeah?” Lucas growled, teeth grazing my neck. “Does the little slut want more?”

A third finger squeezed in. I’d had anal sex before; enough to know I enjoyed it. I liked the slow stretch, the subtle ache — hell, I even liked the sharp pain of trying to stretch too big, too quickly.

Lucas pressed his fingers in deep, and Manson’s hand stroked over my hair affectionately.

“Do you want to fuck her ass?” Manson said.

Lucas’s growl was ravenous this time. His teeth clamped down on my neck, and he scissored his fingers inside me, unlocking his jaw only when I groaned at the pain.

“Yes, sir.” Lucas’s drawl was thick as he spoke against my neck. “I want to fuck her tight ass and make her beg for mercy.”

I shivered from head to toe. There was a slick repetitive sound close by, followed by a shuddering sound from Jason. I wished so badly to see what they were doing.

“You have my permission, pup. Fuck her.”

Lucas shifted around behind me, slowly withdrawing his fingers and grasping my hips. He pulled me up higher on my knees, giving himself a better angle. His cock pressed in slowly, the metal of his jewelry still apparent through the thin latex of a condom. He wrapped his arms around me, and I felt small, so fucking small.

A toy for their pleasure.

“Make her scream.”

Lucas thrust all the way inside, biting down on my shoulder at the same time. I cried out — in pleasure, pain, stimulation, submission. He pounded into me, and I grasped tightly onto Manson’s leg, clinging to him as bliss washed over me.

I gasped, “Please don’t stop — Oh, God —”

Manson pulled my head back, forcing it up. “Look up at me when you address me. I don’t care if you’re blindfolded. Do you understand?”

God…yes, he’d told me that before…God and Master. I leaned into his hand. “Yes, Master, I understand.” My voice trembled and I sounded so damn weak, but it didn’t matter.

I could be weak. I could hand control over to them, let them take me and use me because I wanted them to. I could indulge my fantasies in exactly the way I needed to, no matter how ugly, offensive, shocking, or repulsive. There was no judgment here, no fear. Shame was just another toy we could play with, not a weapon.

Every jolt of Lucas’s hips made me gasp. We were kneeling at Manson’s feet, fucking like animals as he watched, and my pleasure was growing so swiftly that I couldn’t hold back.

“May I come?” I said, riding the edge. “Please, Master, may I come?”

Lucas groaned viciously against my back, his length throbbing inside me. I kept begging, “Please, please, please…” because I didn’t think I could stop myself, but I needed permission. I needed it.

“You can come, angel.”

I sobbed with relief. The orgasm hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe or move. Lucas fucked me mercilessly through it, every stroke prolonging the ecstasy.

He came with a guttural snarl, nails digging into my flesh. Leather tassels brushed against my side, a gentle tease before it disappeared. Then there was a swish of air, a crack. Lucas tensed, his cock twitching inside me. There was another swish, another crack, and he groaned.

“Thank you, sir.” His whispered words sent shivers over my skin. He pulled out of me and away. The leather tails of a flogger caressed my shoulders as Manson laid his hand on my head. There was movement beside me, as if someone was kneeling near his other foot.

“Get me a chair.”

Whoever had knelt beside me — Lucas, I guessed — vanished. His footsteps returned, then came the heavy but restrained sound of something being put down, and Manson shifted. He sat, and I was between his legs, shaking, as I tried to catch my breath.

I bowed my head as the flogger trailed over my back.

“Do you want to suffer for me, angel?”

I nodded my head quickly, without hesitation. “Yes, Master.”

This time, when the swish and crack came, it fell on me. The flogger he used was heavy, stinging in a million little bites.

“More, please.” I bowed my head even lower, almost to the floor. “Please hurt me, Master.”

Crack, and the sting bloomed. I sucked in a breath, but it came out as a cry. Again and again, he whipped the flogger across my back, until my flesh was burning all over, ignited with heat, my muscles twitching.

“What does a good little slut say?”

I swallowed hard and sniffed. “Thank you, Master.”

Manson lifted me from the floor, maneuvering me easily. He settled me on his lap with my back to his chest, my pussy impaled on his cock.

“Oh, fuck…” I couldn’t get the words out without groaning. My legs were splayed over his lap and he felt so thick inside me.

The palm of his hand slapped against my thigh. “Start riding, slut. Put in the work.”

My toes were barely touching the ground and my legs were weak, but even if I could barely move, I wanted to obey. I braced my hands on the arms of the chair he was seated in — it was soft fabric, like velvet. I slid up and down on his length, loving every inch. Someone came closer, and hands caressed over my chest, squeezing my breasts and tweaking the piercings through my nipples.

“Jason…” He gave a satisfied hum before he kissed me, the cold touch of the rings on his fingers making me shiver. He kissed me deep and slow; that skilled tongue overtaking mine and snatching the air right out of my lungs. He parted from me, and there was a pause, then Manson pushed me forward and the smooth, warm head of Jason’s cock brushed my lips.

I stroked my tongue over him, salivating as I bobbed my head. It was a struggle to get his entire length inside as I took him deep into my throat, sucking him to the same rhythm I rode Manson.

“Good girl,” Manson said. “You’re taking his cock so well.”

Manson’s praise spurred me on. Jason gripped my hair, guiding my head on his shaft. He forced me down, as deep as I could take it, holding me there until I coughed. I was gasping when he allowed me to lift my head again; my strength depleted. But although I was faltering, Manson wasn’t.

“I don’t think sluts need air, do they, J?” he said. I whimpered desperately with need as Jason laughed.

“No, I don’t think they do.” He pressed my head down again until he filled my throat, trailing one finger lightly over my cheek. “Stay with us, beautiful girl. Remember to tap if you need to.”

I nodded before his fingers pinched my nose. My air supply was cut off entirely, and Manson’s finger dug into my hips. His hips bucked up brutally against me, fucking me hard. My throat convulsed, the desperate need for air overriding my determination not to struggle.

But I didn’t tap. I knew my limits of endurance.

“Squirm all you want.” Vincent’s voice circled us. “The only thing you’ll be breathing is cock.”

My lungs ached, they burned for air. But the feeling of perfect surrender washed over me. I was under their control, their protection, their dominance. I was safe even though it was so, so hard.

Jason finally released my nose as he pulled out of my mouth, stroking himself to orgasm all over my face. I licked the drips from my lips, thanking him even as I gasped for breath.

Then Manson’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me back against his chest.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

“Your cum please,” I gasped, as his movements grew harsher. “Please come inside me, sir, please fill me up, please.”

He groaned roughly as he came. I was left limp and dazed with bliss, too far gone from the world to do anything. I lay there silently on his lap, thoroughly fucked and filthy.

I couldn’t think of a better way to start the weekend.