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He’s such a liar. I can’t bring myself to be grateful for this clumsy attempt at comforting me.
Nothing about this is fine or okay.
It wasn’t enough for James to humiliate me. Now, he needs to be sure I can’t move.
CHAPTER 31
It’s not enough to restrain me. He has to make sure I’m completely helpless.
By the time Colt is finished, and James is grunting his approval, I’m as physically and emotionally uncomfortable as I’ve ever been in my life. I’m kneeling on the bench. My feet hang over the edge with my ass in the air. The cuffs around my ankles ensure I can’t move my legs at all. My wrists are down by the floor, the cuffs tight against the bench’s legs, so there is no moving my arms, either. The side of my face is pressed against the padded surface.
I’m also blindfolded and gagged. No speaking or seeing. No moving unless I want to tip the bench over and risk hurting myself badly.
“Very nice,” James decides. The way the bench is set up, the angle I’m at, my pussy and ass are directly in front of his face. “I see you shaved for me today. I appreciate that. Nothing like a nice, smooth pussy.”
If I wasn’t gagged, I would explain I got laser hair removal down there when I was fifteen. A lot of gymnasts do, not that he would care why my pussy is bare. I just want to get this over with.
“You can begin,” he tells his sons. Immediately, I hear them lowering their zippers, ready to jump at Daddy’s command. I can’t stand it. How can they do this? They act like they’re being forced into it, too, but that can’t be true. It’s not like he’s holding a gun to their heads. He’s a big man, but they are big, too. I’m sure they could beat him if the two of them worked together.
They don’t want to. That’s the only answer. And why would they? Look what they’re getting out of it.
“Touch her pussy. Get her nice and wet. I want to see those lips glisten.” At least I don’t have to see his smug, nasty face, but I could deal without having to hear his voice. I wish somebody would put headphones on me so I could avoid that.
One of them touches me down there, stroking my lips before going deeper, parting them, dragging their fingers over my clit to tease my entrance. I’m about as dry as I’ve ever been, especially knowing James is sitting right there, watching every move.
“Come on. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to make a woman’s pussy wet. Get in there. Lick it if you have to.” One of them does, and I groan behind my gag. James must take it as a sound of pleasure because he groans along with me. “That’s more like it. Shove your tongue up there. Fuck her with it.”
Meanwhile, hands land on my back, sliding around to cup my boobs and playing with them. I feel something bump against my head, and I realize it’s somebody’s balls, that they’re standing in front of the bench and leaning down. I certainly hope I don’t end up choking to death on my own vomit with this gag in my mouth.
“That’s enough of that. Nix, give it to her. Hard and deep.” The first thrust pushes me forward, testing the straps. They don’t give, of course, and Nix only pulls me back, closer to him, as he buries himself balls deep.
He might have gotten a little spit in there to ease the way, but that doesn’t change how the sudden intrusion hurts as if I’m being split apart. My tender walls are stretched painfully, and all I can do is scream. The gag muffles my pained cry, which doesn’t make Nix slow down at all.
Then he begins in earnest, slamming himself into me while pulling back on my hips. I can’t hold back the pained grunts behind my gag. It feels like he’s tearing me apart.
“Slap her ass. I want to see your handprints on there by the time you’re finished.” Now my grunts are more like cries, but again, it doesn’t matter. It only makes James happy, makes him laugh almost gleefully. “That’s right. I love seeing that ass shake. Colt, it’s your turn.”
Oh no, not both of them. I’m already so sore from the past two days.
Sure enough, the brief relief of Nix sliding away from me is soon replaced by dread as Colt takes his place. I might as well not really be here. I’m only a hole, something to plunge into, slap a little, to fill and punish. And that’s what he’s doing, punishing me, just the way his father wants. “Yeah, give it to her.”
It isn’t only my pussy that’s hurting. My neck is already sore, and my shoulders ache from being driven into the bench. I try to raise my voice, to be heard and get somebody’s attention. “She wants to tell you how much she loves it,” James decides, and I hear him stroking himself even over the sound of a football game going on. My pain and tears are soaking into the blindfold, but I doubt he would care even if he could see them. It might even add to the experience.
