Chapter 4: Your Ass is Mine
The stretch was a brutal, unforgiving fire. Brooke held the base of the dildo, her knuckles white, as she watched my face contort behind the blindfold. "There we go," she cooed, her voice a mix of wonder and cruelty. "Taking it all. Every last inch."
She began to move, a slow, punishing rhythm that scraped deep inside me. Each thrust was a violation that sent jolts of sharp, confusing pleasure through my nerves. My cock, trapped in her other hand, throbbed in time with her movements, a traitorous beacon of my arousal.
"Your turn," Brooke panted, pulling the silicone free with a wet, obscene sound. She swapped places with Sarah in a fluid, practiced motion.
Sarah didn't bother with gentleness. She guided the dildo back to my ass, now slick and loosened, and slammed it home in one brutal stroke. I cried out, the sound strangled in my throat.
"Fuck, he's tight even now," Sarah grunted, setting a faster, rougher pace. The bedframe knocked against the wall with the force of her thrusts. Brooke straddled my face, her swollen cunt pressing down onto my mouth, smothering my groans. "Earn your air," she commanded, grinding her clit against my nose.
I was trapped between their bodies, a tool for their pleasure. Sarah fucked my ass with a relentless, mechanical energy while Brooke rode my face, her juices coating my lips and chin. The world narrowed to the smell of sex and sweat, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the overwhelming, dual sensation of being filled and smothered.
I felt the orgasm building, a tight coil in my gut that I couldn't control. "I'm... I'm gonna come," I gasped, the words muffled by Brooke's flesh.
Brooke lifted her hips just enough for me to breathe. "No you're not." Her hand clamped around the base of my cock, squeezing hard, cutting off the climax with a wave of agonizing frustration. "Not until we say so."
Sarah laughed, pulling the dildo out almost completely before driving it back in. "He's all twitchy. Can't handle it."
They switched again. Brooke took the harness, her thrusts more deliberate, searching for the spot that made my vision blur. Sarah sat on my face, her taste different—sharper, more acidic. "Lick my ass, Mike," she demanded, shifting her weight back. "Get your tongue in there." I obeyed, the humiliation a fresh fuel on the fire of my arousal.
The cycle continued. They traded places, over and over, a well-oiled machine of depravity. Brooke fucked me while Sarah used my mouth. Sarah took over with the dildo, pounding into me with a fury that bordered on violence, while Brooke whispered filth in my ear, her breath hot. "You're just a hole for us. A warm, tight hole. Isn't that right?"
The pressure became unbearable. My body was no longer my own. It was a vessel for their pleasure, a toy pushed to its absolute limit. "Please," I begged, my voice raw. "Please, let me come."
Brooke was on the strap-on again. She leaned over me, her blonde hair brushing my chest. "Okay, baby," she whispered, her voice suddenly soft. "Come for us."
It was the permission that broke me. With one final, deep thrust from Brooke, my orgasm erupted, a raw, convulsing shockwave that ripped through me. My cock pulsed, untouched, shooting streaks of cum across my stomach and chest in helpless, ragged bursts.
Before the last tremor had even subsided, Sarah was moving. She shoved Brooke aside and dropped her cunt onto my face, her thighs clamping around my head. "Clean it up," she snarled. "Lick your own mess off me."
The taste was immediate and overwhelming—my own salty, bitter release mixed with her musky arousal. I gagged, but her weight held me fast. I had no choice but to swallow, to lick her clean, the ultimate degradation.
As I did, Brooke, unbuckling the harness, watched with dark, satisfied eyes. She picked up the dildo, glistening and slick, and traced it over my spent cock. "Round two," she said, her voice a low promise. "We're just getting started."
Brooke’s eyes, dark and liquid with power, held mine as she discarded the harness. The slick, used dildo hit the carpet with a soft thud. "My turn for the real thing," she murmured, her voice a low thrum that vibrated in the charged air.
She climbed onto the bed, her athletic figure silhouetted against the dim light, and straddled my hips. Her hand wrapped around my cock, which was still slick with my own release and painfully sensitive. She guided herself onto me, sinking down with a slow, deliberate pressure that made us both gasp.
"You're so fucking full of me," she breathed, her inner muscles fluttering around my shaft as she began to move. Her rhythm was possessive, each roll of her hips a claim staked deep inside my body. Sarah watched, her fingers idly tracing circles over her clit, her gaze fixed on where our bodies joined.
"Look at him," Sarah said, her voice husky. "He's completely gone." Brooke leaned forward, her long blonde hair curtaining our faces, and captured my mouth in a brutal, claiming kiss. I could taste Sarah on her tongue, a layered depravity that made my hips buck involuntarily.
She broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting our lips. "Not yet," she warned, her voice guttural. Her pace intensified, becoming a frantic, pounding rhythm that shook the bed. The headboard slammed against the wall in a steady, percussive beat.
I was close, so close, the tension coiling unbearably tight in my groin. Brooke sensed it, her body tightening around me like a vise. "Sarah," she panted, not breaking her stride. "Now."
Sarah moved with purpose. She climbed onto the bed, positioning herself on her knees above my chest. She looked down at me, her expression a mixture of fierce arousal and absolute command. "Open your mouth," she instructed, her voice leaving no room for disagreement.
I obeyed, my jaw slack. Brooke’s punishing rhythm continued below, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge. Sarah shifted her weight, her hand moving between her legs.
Then it came. A warm, sudden stream hit my tongue, sharp and acrid. The golden shower poured into my open mouth, a hot, relentless flow that coated my throat. I choked, sputtering, but she adjusted her aim, painting my face with it.
The warm liquid streamed over my closed eyelids, down my temples, and into my hair. Brooke rode me harder, her moans reaching a fever pitch as she watched Sarah mark me. "Swallow it," Brooke commanded, her body milking my cock. "Every last drop."
I gulped, the bitter taste flooding my senses as my own orgasm ripped through me, a raw, helpless surrender that left me shaking beneath them.