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“Put your hands behind your back.” He slowly slides it out of the hoops of his jeans, each inch forcing my eyes to grow wider.
Putting my hands behind my back, I turn away from him. He takes his time looping the leather around my wrists, making sure I can’t get out of it easily.
I squeeze my eyes shut when he kneels before me and undoes my jeans all the way to my ankles, then my underwear to my knees. That way, he knows I’ll struggle to move my legs.
“Oh, baby.” His condescending tone does nothing to help. “So wet for me already.”
“She loves her punishments way too much,” Ethan says. His tone tells me he loves them too. “She’s becoming a sucker for them.”
“Better make sure she never forgets this one, then.” He’s speaking to his brother, but his eyes are on my pussy.
He stands up, sitting on the chair, and maneuvers me until I’m over his lap, my face hanging on the side and my toes barely touching the floor.
“Mm,” he hums, massaging my cheeks. In the process, he grazes my entrance with the tips of his fingers. “What a wet little slut. She’ll be dripping in no time, and then crying shortly after when I don’t give her what she craves.”
My stuttered breath is loud when I inhale, but I don’t say anything.
“What should we do, brother? Five for snapping at me, five for taking so long to choose her punishment?”
I bite my lower lip not to whimper. Elliot’s spanking is not a walk in the park. His palms cover most of my flesh, and he always makes sure to use enough strength to mark me.
“Sounds about right,” Ethan agrees. I turn my head to the side, looking under the table just as he spreads his legs and palms his dick through his jeans. They’re ripped black jeans today, and he’s wearing a red plaid shirt tied around his hips.
“You’ll count, my love. And don’t forget to thank the both of us after each one.”
The blood is already rushing to my head, and I know this is going to feel surreal. It always does.
I gasp on the first one. I didn’t expect it so quickly. My eyes stay on Ethan’s crotch under the table.
“One,” I say in a fairly casual tone. “Thank you, Elliot. Thank you, Ethan.”
The bulge under my stomach is instantaneous. Elliot is already turned on hearing his name from my lips.
The next one feels the same, even better since I’m prepared. “Two. Thank you, Elliot, and thank you, Ethan.”
It’s the third one that makes me cry out. It’s harsher, because he clearly wasn’t getting what he wanted out of me. Thanking them is harder this time.
The fourth and fifth bring tears to my eyes, and my ears start ringing when I see Ethan unzip his jeans and take out his cock. I lick my lips, feeling spit gather from being upside down.
It’s not from seeing my boyfriend’s beautiful pierced cock. I promise. Kind of.
From the seventh, I lose myself. The pain doesn’t register anymore, as I feel lightheaded, and reality starts to leave my mind.
My cheeks are burning, my pussy wet.
It feels good. Too good not to try to meet his hand on the eighth one.
“That’s it.” Elliot’s voice resonates in my head, but I can only respond with a moan. Spit is falling from my parted lips, and as I pant, it drips to the floor, making everything worse and yet better.
These men turn me into anything they want, and in exchange, they accept anything I already am. There is no match more perfect than ours. Nothing more powerful in this world than the unconditional love they give me in exchange for my sanity, my body, and my heart.
He slaps my pussy on the ninth one, making me groan with pleasure.
“I can’t hear you thanking us.”
My eyes are stuck on Ethan’s hand fisting his cock. I want it in my mouth. I want him to face fuck me while Elliot fucks my pussy and makes me come.
“Nine,” I moan. “Thank you, Elliot. Thank you, Ethan.”
