Their quiet praise fills me with warmth before they gently grab the nipple clamps. I shout as they pull them off, letting blood throb through my abused skin.
“But let’s make sure you remember everyone.”
They don’t relieve me of the arm binder yet, and I’m left to struggle back onto my shaking legs. I steady myself, face flushed, before I start my last loop around the circle.
I go the opposite direction this time, starting with the newest names. At first, it feels like I’m doing rather well. The names come to me quick, and I’m able to connect them easily with the faces in front of me. But I get less certain as I continue further around the circle.
When I reach the man with the dirty-blond hair, I pause. His smile is full of wicked mirth as he waits for me to name him.
“I promise, I won’t be offended if you’ve forgotten,” he says, and his accent holds that Immen influence that’s so present in people from Frostcliff. That helps his name click into place in my pleasure-fogged head.
“Bastien!” I say and the circle lets out a groan. Every one of them is rooting for me to screw up, but I giddily make my way down the circle until I reach the man with the white streak in his hair. I look between him and the man next to him, my mind drawing a blank on who is who. Finally, I focus on the man with the streak and say, “Jonas?”
There are a few sympatheticoohsaround the circle. “Fuck, no, you’re Patrik,” I say to the man with the white streak before looking at the big man seated next to him, “Andyou’reJonas.”
“That’s two wrong, Galiva,” Cancassi chuckles.
I shudder before I continue around the circle. Now, my confidence is shaken, and the prospect of what’s to come scatters my focus like dandelion seeds. I completely forget one more person - the fierce-looking Rega - who doesn’t seem at all bothered by my lapse in memory. Yet considering the circumstances, I feel rather accomplished in remembering so many.
My breath comes in short gasps as I finish the circle and come to stand beside Cancassi. A trail of wetness slides down the inside of my thigh.
“Alright,” I say before I look to the three people I forgot. “A promise is a promise. Patrik, Jonas, Rega - make sure I never forget your names again.”
My words are met with a cheer from the onlookers. It makes my head swim, and even though I’m bracing for it, I still shout as Jonas grabs me around the waist. He’s built like a bear with a soft belly, but the strength in those arms makes me yelp as he lifts me over his shoulder, carrying me like I weigh nothing.
Yet he’s gentle as he takes me to the center of the room before setting me down. Rega and Patrik circle me before Rega’s lips capture mine. I whimper into the kiss as her tongue parts my lips, teeth nibbling my lower lip so tenderly that it makes my aching cunt clench.
A hand slaps against my ass, making me jump before I realize it’s Jonas. Gods, but feeling how large his palm is against my cheek makes me wonder how big the rest of him is.
“What do you think, Jonas?” Patrik asks. “I know you’re an ass man.”
“I don’t want to be the guy who gets a reputation for breaking the Grandmaster,” Jonas rumbles, and my thoughts fizzle to a stop even as my question about his size is all but confirmed.
“Could take her mouth,” Patrik suggests.
Rega breaks our kiss just long enough to say, “ButIwant her mouth.” Something in her tone makes me think she will have it.
The contrast of such a tender kiss against such spoken filth makes me moan, mouth opening further to accept Rega’s plundering tongue. With my arms still bound behind me, I can’t stop Rega from drawing me closer until my chest rests against hers. She’s a tall woman, and she bears down on me until I sink to my knees, my abused nipples brushing the fabric of her pants. She follows me to the ground, fingers sliding down my corset before they trail in between my legs.
“What an eager cunt,” Rega purrs. Her eyes are bright as she licks the taste of me from her fingers.
“Would expect nothing less from the Grandmaster,” Jonas says, his deep voice sounding by my ear.
A finger just eases into me, and I jerk in surprise. I’m not sure who it is until a large palm that can only belong to Jonas cups my cunt. I grind down on his finger without thought, so lost in the spell that I barely feel my legs spread wider. With the corset still cinched tight around my waist, my arms still trapped behind me in the binder, I feel like a wrapped gift, something to be passed around and enjoyed at their leisure.
I surrender to the degradation - it’s their right to use me, to fuck me in whatever way they see fit. Gods know I’ll never forget their names again.
I’m suddenly pitched forward with a firm hand on the back of my neck. If Rega wasn’t there to support me, I’d be tipped face first against the ground as my ass is pulled back and up.
“Twist my arm, I guess,” Patrick says before a slicked cock presses against my hole. “Do you think you can take me, Grandmaster?”
I shudder at the heat in his voice before I rock back, pulling the tip of him into me. He swears, hands tightening around my hips as he gives a shallow thrust.
“Guess that’s answer enough, then,” he says before he snaps his hips forward, burying his cock deep. I gasp at the sudden stretch even as Rega soothes me with another achingly tender kiss. The discomfort of the rough use is quickly eclipsed as Patrik reaches down to toy with my chafed clit, making my overwrought nerves spark with pleasure.
Rega swallows my moans as Patrik warms my hole up, thrusting shallowly at first before driving deeper. Soon, his hips snap against my ass, my body shaking with every hard thrust. Yet it’s his talented fingers that play my clit to another orgasm, my second of the day. I clench tight around him, crying out against Rega’s lips.
Patrik swears appreciatively before his hips stutter to a stop, and my eyes flutter as his seed spills into me. My sore hole quivers as he pulls out, and I shudder my relief only to jerk as he delivers a playful swat to my ass. “It’s been a pleasure to officially meet you, Galiva.”
