Chapter 35: The Aftermath Auction
The double penetration ended not with a climax, but with a logistical problem. The man in her ass came first, his thrusts becoming erratic, his grunts turning into a sharp bark as he emptied himself deep into her colon, the hot flood adding to the impossible fullness. He pulled out, his cock slick and glistening with her lube and his own spend. The sudden emptiness there was almost as shocking as the invasion.
The man in her cunt, however, couldn’t finish. The angle was wrong, or he’d lost the rhythm. He swore, pulling out of her sore, gaping hole with a wet pop.“Fuck. Lost it. She’s too loose now, just feels like a wet sock.”
Marcus sighed, a sound of mild professional disappointment.“Unclench, sweetheart. You’re supposed to milk them dry. That’s the job.” He gestured to the man. “Step aside. We’ll get her ready for the private viewing.”
The Clarendon buyer, the heavyset man who’d negotiated, had been watching from a plush chair in the shadows, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He set it down now and stood, his belt already unbuckled.“Paid for a fresh hole,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “That one looks thoroughly used.”
“The contract was for ownership of the remainder of her scheduled time and any subsequent use,” Marcus corrected smoothly, his posture diplomatic but his eyes sharp. “The cunt is functional. Lina will prep it.”
Lina approached Mary, who was still on her hands and knees, shuddering, strings of cum dripping from both holes. She wiped her down with a cold, antiseptic cloth, the smell sharp and medicinal. Then she produced a small, angled syringe filled with a clear gel.“Pussy-tightening serum,” she explained tonelessly to the buyer. “Temporary effect. Causes mild swelling of the internal mucosa. Restores a sense of friction for approximately forty-five minutes. Side effects include a burning sensation and increased sensitivity.”
She inserted the nozzle into Mary’s violated entrance and depressed the plunger.
A scream, hoarse and broken, ripped from Mary’s throat. It was like fire. Like ground glass was blooming inside her, her tender tissues swelling and prickling with a vicious, chemical heat. She collapsed forward, her face pressed into the sticky platform, her body curling inward around the pain.
“See?” Marcus said. “Good as new. Tighter than a virgin, actually. Virgin tissue doesn’t burn like that. That burn makes them clench.”
The buyer chuckled, a dry, wheezing sound. He moved forward, his shadow engulfing Mary. He wasn’t lean like Marcus. He was solid, a wall of flesh and cheap cologne. He grabbed a handful of her hair, lifting her head and shoulders off the bed. “On your back. I want to see your face when I break this paid-for pussy.”
He rolled her over. The spotlight hit her full on. Her breasts were mottled with bite marks and bruises, her belly slick with fluids. The blindfold was soaked through, dark with tears and sweat. He knelt between her legs, his thick, uncut cock jutting out, already weeping. He spit into his palm, gave himself two rough strokes, and then notched the head against her.
Mary braced for the brutal shove. It didn’t come.
Instead, he pushed in with a slow, inexorable pressure. The chemical burn made the stretch agonizing, a raw, scraping friction that felt like he was splitting her open for the first time all over again. She cried out, her back arching off the platform.
“Fuck yes,” he groaned, his eyes on where his girth disappeared into her swollen lips. “That’s the ticket. Like a hot, angry fist. Squeeze me, you little whore.”
He began to fuck her with a steady, ponderous rhythm. Each inward stroke was a slow, deep burn. Each withdrawal made her clench reflexively around the emptiness, the serum doing its cruel work. He wasn’t passionate. He wasn’t frenzied. He was a man using a very expensive, very specific tool. He watched her face, her mouth open in a silent scream, with the detached interest of a biologist observing a specimen.
“Moan for me,” he instructed, his voice calm. “I paid for the sounds, too.”
A broken whimper escaped her lips. He slapped her thigh, not playfully, but a sharp, stinging correction.“Louder. You’re supposed to be enjoying this. I bought your enjoyment.”
He picked up the pace, his belly slapping against her sore flesh, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room. The chemical fire mixed with the brutal physical stretch, creating a feedback loop of pain that bordered on a strange, hallucinatory transcendence. Mary’s mind floated somewhere near the ceiling, looking down at the girl being methodically fucked by the stranger.
“Gonna breed this cheap cunt,” he muttered, his rhythm faltering. “Fill this rented womb up.” His grip on her hips turned vicelike. He slammed home three more times, deep, jarring impacts that pushed the air from her lungs, and then he froze, buried to the hilt.
She felt the hot, pulsing flood inside her, another layer added to the soup already saturating her. He held himself there, grinding subtly, milking every last drop.
When he finally pulled out, he looked down at his work. Her cunt was visibly puffy, glistening, a mixture of his cum and the serum leaking out in a slow stream. He slapped it, once, twice, making her jolt. The flesh reddened under his hand.
“Satisfactory,” he said to Marcus, tucking himself away. He tossed a stack of crisp bills onto a side table. “She’s got a decent hole. When the serum wears off, it’s just a gaping mess, though.”
“That’s the nature of the product,” Marcus agreed, collecting the money. “Lina will clean her up.”
The buyer left without another glance. Lina approached with a warm, wet cloth. The cleaning was not gentle. It was a thorough wiping-down of a soiled object. She parted Mary’s legs and swabbed out her sore,