Halloween – One Year Later
The candy was gone, and the last of the trick-or-treaters had departed when I finally flicked off the porch light and locked the front door. It was a cold Halloween night in our little suburb, but the line of children eager to get to our door had been nearly constant all night.
We’d gone all-out for Halloween, naturally. It was a special holiday in our house. The yard was decorated to look like a haunted graveyard, with headstones and zombie hands protruding from the dirt. Fake cobwebs were strewn across our front porch, with orange and purple string lights coiled along the railing. We even had a fog machine.
My heels clicked loudly in the quiet house as I made my way down the hall and into the kitchen. It wasn’t a very original costume, but I was dressed as a cheerleader. The boys had been absolutely ravenous for it though, claiming it tapped into a fantasy they all shared.
A fantasy in which prissy Jessica the cheerleader got her comeuppance.
They’d disappeared about thirty minutes ago, while I distributed the last of the candy. They didn’t explain their absence, but I had a pretty good idea of what they were up to. After all, this costume had inspired an entire fantasy for them. They wanted to bring it to life before the night was over.
That was why I didn’t take off my heels. Presentation was important, and if I was going to roleplay my old bitchy self, then I had to look the part.
Opening the fridge, I pulled out a pitcher of lemonade and poured a glass. Cherry entered the kitchen, announcing herself with a friendly mreow! as she rubbed around my legs. Our tiny kitten had grown up into a beautiful orange cat, with pale green eyes. She was friendly and cuddly with all of us, but she preferred Lucas’s company.
Cherry probably didn’t remember the trash pile we’d rescued her from. Julia still fed the colony of strays, having taken over for Lucas when we moved away. She sent us pictures every few days; she had tried giving all the cats names, but there were too many and she kept mixing them up. But Lucas enjoyed getting the pictures. He’d felt guilty leaving his old friends behind.
I finished my drink and put the glass in the sink before I turned. It was lucky I did, because my hands flew up to cover my mouth in surprise when I found Lucas standing silently in the doorway.
“Shit, Lucas!” I gasped. “You scared me!”
The boys had all chosen similar costumes this year, and I thought they looked delightfully creepy. Jason came up with the idea after watching Hellraiser; they all resembled the Cenobites from the film. Lucas wore a latex suit that zipped up, the collar high enough to come all the way up to his jaw. The suit was made to look as if it was stapled together, accented with lines of metal stitching. His eyes were smudged with black makeup, making them appear sunken and hollow.
He didn’t move, and he didn’t say a word. He just gave me a very small smile —
Then the lights cut out.
The pale glow of moonlight through the kitchen window was my only illumination. The doorway was plunged entirely into darkness, and I heard footsteps — then silence.
“Lucas?” I shuffled forward, my hands out so I wouldn’t bump into the table. But he was gone.
The entire house was dark. They must have turned off the power. With a dramatic sigh, I kept shuffling forward out of the kitchen. “Okay, okay, breakers are in the basement…of course…the fucking basement…”
The door to the basement was in the hallway, under the stairs. The door was cracked open slightly, and there was flickering light within. Before opening the door, I took a moment to hype myself up. I knew it was only a game; the boys wanted to scare me. But I was filled with that giddy sort of fear, the kind where I wasn’t certain if I wanted to laugh or scream.
Finally, I cleared my throat and opened the door, marching down the stairs before fear could overtake me again. My heels clicked on every step, the stairs creaking with my weight. The faint light was coming from the back corner of the basement, near the breaker box.
“Hello?” My voice sounded far too loud as I neared the bottom of the stairs. There were so many shadows, it was impossible to see anything more than vague silhouettes. I should have grabbed my phone before I came down here, or a flashlight…
But where was the fun in that?
I could feel someone watching me as I made my way to the breaker box. A single lit candle sat beside it, which basically screamed that this was a trap. I would bet anything that the candle was Vincent’s idea. He loved setting a dramatic scene.
But I enjoyed playing the role of the hapless victim. I opened the box, narrowing my eyes as I tried to figure out what the hell I needed to do.
Someone blew the damn candle out. I heard their breath as they did it, and briefly — so briefly I almost thought I’d imagined it — I caught a glimpse of their shadowy face as they leaned forward.
Manson. Holy shit. He’d been standing so close to me and I’d had no idea he was even there.
But now, of course, plunged into complete darkness, I couldn’t even find my way back to the stairs.
“Shit…” I backed up slowly, carefully, my arms outstretched. Having my eyes wide open but seeing only darkness was extremely disconcerting. I couldn’t discern a single shape, but I could hear movement: footsteps all around me.
I raised my voice and said, “This isn’t funny, assholes! Whoever is doing this…” As if I didn’t know. “…you’d better stop it. When my mom finds out you’re fucking with me, she’ll go straight to the principal. You’ll all be expelled.”
It was the kind of threat I would have gone for in my younger years. There was a soft sound, a laugh. But it was shockingly close beside me, and I leapt away in alarm — only to slam into a hard body blocking my way.
Struggling away from the hands that tried to grab me, I scrambled toward the stairs. I could only guess where they were as I flailed in the dark. My foot hit the bottom step and I fell, but I quickly crawled up the stairs, kicking off my heels as I did.
I reached the hallway, got to my feet and sprinted for the living room.
The fire had burned low in the hearth, and the flames cast dancing shadows on the walls. Pale light streamed in through the open window, but it didn’t reach the shadowy darkness of the doorway to the hall, or the doorway that led into the kitchen.
They came at me from both sides.
Lucas and Jason stepped out of the shadows first. Their footsteps were heavy as they strode out of the hallway side by side. Instead of wearing a full latex suit like Lucas, Jason was shirtless, showing off his chest covered in colorful tattoos. His face was painted with skeletal makeup, his eyes darkened, his cheeks hollowed. His trousers were tight leather, covered with straps and buckles. Every time he took a step, the chains dangling from his pants clinked against his other hardware, giving an ominous sound to his movement.
Then, from out of the kitchen doorway, Manson appeared. He was the only one who’d opted out of donning latex. He was still dressed head to toe in black; even his suspenders. As he walked in, he was rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows.
As if whatever he was about to do was going to get messy.
“Hello, Jess.” His deep voice wasn’t loud, but it still made me jump. The house was so quiet, except for the subtle creak of the floor as they surrounded me.
“What do you want, freak?” I said, and almost grinned when his eyes brightened and the corner of his mouth twitched. A barely-suppressed smile.
Jason laughed softly. “You should have expected this. All these years you’ve walked around with your head held high, treating everyone like shit. It’s about time you faced the consequences.”
“You need to pay us back for all the bullshit,” Lucas said. “Quite frankly, I think you need to be taken down a few pegs. You need to be put in your place.”
Lucas wanted nothing more than to keep chasing me, I could tell. He had too much energy; he was rocking on the toes of his shoes. He kept shooting Manson quick glances, hoping for the signal that would allow him to give chase.
Manson was walking closer, every step making my heart beat a little faster. I stood my ground, fists clenched as if I would fight. But the excitement pulsing through my veins was focused solely on what the end result would be. I could fight all I wanted, but I wouldn’t win.
They would overtake me.
“Put in my place?” I snapped. I tried to sound as bitchy as possible. “Excuse me? As if I would ever touch you!”
I was so focused on Manson that I didn’t notice Jason creeping closer. When he spoke, it was a harsh whisper right in my ear, “You won’t have a choice soon enough, princess.”
Jason grabbed me before I could run. I struggled, but then Lucas came to help him, and between the two of them I was held captive.
“I’m sorry it had to happen this way, Jessica,” Manson said, although his tone told me he wasn’t sorry at all. I wasn’t either; I loved getting to fight against them, I loved our perverse games. “But you’ve been teasing us for way too long. Prancing around school in that tiny skirt.” He came closer, and I was helpless to move as Lucas and Jason held me in place. “You know it drives us wild, but you just can’t help it. You always want more attention. More, more, more.”
“There’s going to be some changes in the hierarchy,” Lucas said. “Miss Queen Bee isn’t on top anymore.”
I scoffed, although I was breathless now. I didn’t sound nearly as intense as I had only seconds ago. “As if any of you could claim to be better than me.”
“Oh, no, no, not better,” Jason said. “We’re degenerates, Jess.”
“Losers,” said Lucas.
Manson smiled. “Freaks.”
“But now that we’ve caught you, we don’t ever have to let you go,” Jason said, his lips brushing my neck as he spoke, just behind my ear. “We’re going to keep you. Break you. Remake you into the perfect little fucktoy.”
My entire body crawled with desire. I wondered where Vincent was hiding — I hadn’t seen him yet. But Manson crowded into my space, and suddenly all I could focus on was him.
“I’ve wanted you for so damn long,” he said. “But all you could ever do was tease. Like you’re so goddamn special.” His words were heavy, dripping with the sweetest poison. “But not anymore. We’re going to take what we want. From now on, your only focus will be on how you can please your masters.”
“Please my —what!” I struggled again — it was an excuse to grind my ass against Jason. “You’re not in charge of me! You don’t own me!”
Lucas gave me one of those deliciously dark laughs of his. “Mm, that’s funny. She thinks we don’t own her, Manson.”
“Silly little thing,” Jason said.
Manson was just smiling. “Well, that’s only fair. After all, she doesn’t have her collar on yet.”
I blinked rapidly. Manson hadn’t broken character, but I was about to. “Wait — collar? Did you say collar?”
I’d been obsessively looking at collars online for weeks now; one of them was bound to have noticed. It had been so long since I admitted to Jason that I wanted one, I honestly thought he would have forgotten.
But if he hadn’t…
“That’s right, angel.” Manson reached up, tracing his fingers in a line across my throat. “I think locking you into a collar would help remind you of your place. It would remind everyone else too. No one’s going to look at you like you’re hot shit when you’re collared like a sweet little pet.”
My chest felt light with excitement, but I tried to stay in the scene. Inside, I was jumping up and down, clapping my hands, practically squealing.
Externally, I started struggling as hard as I could.
They knew I couldn’t get away, but they let me think I could. They let me go, but Lucas shoved me toward the couch and I stumbled onto it. When I tried to scramble back up, Jason pushed my shoulder and sent me stumbling into Manson.
Manson didn’t let me go. He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing like a serpent.
“I knew you’d be wearing something sexy under this little skirt,” he said, his voice dangerously low as he crushed me against him, lewdly holding up my skirt. “Just a tiny thong. It barely even covers you!”
Jason knelt at my feet and ran his tongue up my thigh. He’d gotten his tongue pierced last month and now that it was finally healed, he constantly wanted to show it off.
“She’s such a little slut,” he said. His tongue traced right along the edge of my underwear, the silver ball on his jewelry glistening in the light. “Are you really wearing this thong when you’re out on the football field? Or walking down the halls?”
“It’s like you’re asking for it,” Lucas snarled. He squeezed my tits through my shirt, hard enough to hurt. He chuckled when I flinched in pain, renewing my struggle to get away.
Their hands were all over me — gripping, pinching, pushing, pulling. They manhandled me back down into the basement, which was no longer pitch black.
Vincent was waiting for us.
“There she is!” he said cheerfully. The dark makeup on his face made his eyes and smile appear eerily wide. He had a coil of rope in his hand as he bounced to his feet, tipping his head to look at me curiously. “I thought you might actually get away, and that would have been so sad.” He pouted his lip. “I have so many tricks to show you.”
His chilling words, and the smile that accompanied them, inspired another frantic attempt at escape. They weren’t expecting it, and for a brief second I managed to slip out of Manson’s arms.
It was Lucas who dragged me back, kicking and screaming. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “But you’re not going anywhere.”
For the first time, I noticed the candles set up on the chest of drawers along the wall. The drawers were full of toys, restraints, lubricants — anything and everything we could need for a scene. But I was momentarily distracted with what was on top of the drawers, rather than within them.
The black candles were arranged in a semicircle, and something was shimmering in the center of them. It was a rose gold metal collar, slim and delicate. It glowed in the candlelight, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
I was obsessed with the ring they’d gotten me. I hated to take it off, even when I showered. People would ask if I was engaged, and most of the time I would simply tell them I was married. Just because we hadn’t signed legal documents didn’t make the ring any less meaningful.
But the sight of the collar had me swelling with emotion yet again.
“It’s yours, sweetheart,” Lucas whispered, his voice soft despite his harsh grip. Gentleness came to him far more easily now. His first few months in therapy had been rough, but as time went by, the change in him was obvious. Sliding back into character, he hissed, “We’re going to lock it onto you and throw away the key.”
Manson stood beside the table, and I noticed something dangling from his hand: a tiny metal key, on a red string. He held it up so I could see it better, and Vincent gave the key a little tap with his finger, causing it to swing erratically from Manson’s hand.
“Looks like Miss Queen Bee doesn’t find us as detestable as she’d like us to believe,” Jason said. “You like that collar, don’t you, princess?”
“Come here, Jess,” Manson said, and Lucas released me with a gentle shove. “Kneel for me.”
I stood there for a moment, wavering. I’d had no idea they planned on doing this, although I suddenly realized they’d been dropping little hints all week. This was why Vincent had made so many jokes about getting new collars for the dogs. This was why Manson had continually made comments about how much he liked chokers on me.
Forgetting the roleplay almost entirely, I stepped forward. The candlelight danced in Manson’s eyes as I knelt for him, keeping my gaze on him as I sunk down. My bare knees hit the concrete floor, and Manson smiled.
“God, that’s a beautiful sight,” he said.
Vincent lifted the collar from the table. It opened with a small, nearly-invisible hinge. I lifted my chin a little higher as he fit it on my neck, and I shivered at the touch of cold metal. The collar was very slim, but it had a pleasant weight to it as it settled into place.
It clicked closed and I gulped. Vincent kissed the nape of my neck, his fingers brushing over me tenderly.
Manson stepped closer, holding up the key.
“You’re ours,” he said. “Your safety, security, and well-being is our responsibility. You’ve entrusted yourself to us, Jess. We take that decision seriously.”
“We always protect what’s ours,” said Lucas. He stood beside Manson, and although his expression was reserved, I could see the love in his eyes.
Love for me. For us.
“We couldn’t decide who gets to hold the key,” Jason said. “So we’re getting three extra ones made so we can all have one.”
We’d all fallen entirely out of character, but I was too happy to care. The weight of the collar around my neck filled me with pride. I sat up straighter as Manson leaned over me and used the key to lock the collar into place.
There was a tiny click, and it felt like my heart skipped a beat.
“When I said I can’t ever let you go,” Manson said. “I meant it.” He kissed the top of my head, and suddenly I was blinking back tears. Being collared was sexy and unbearably erotic, but it was so much more than that, too. It was a comfort, a reassurance, a promise. It was a sign to everyone who saw it that I was protected and cared for.
But we were still in the middle of a scene. After I’d composed myself, their expressions darkened again. Manson slipped the key into his pocket, and said, “Now. Let’s teach the little angel a lesson about respecting her masters.”
They tied me to one of the basement’s thick wooden support columns. Vincent’s rope twined around my tits, squeezing them as I was secured to the column. He lifted one of my legs and tied it into place, so I was balanced on one foot.
“Poor little thing,” he said, in a mocking voice. “Looks like you’re in a bit of a bind.” He cackled at his own joke, and Lucas snorted at the pun.
“You freaks won’t get away with this,” I said. It was extremely difficult to pretend to be rude to them after they’d collared me. The weight of it on my neck made me ache to be good, to bow my head and obey.
“We’re already getting away with it,” Lucas said. It disturbed me that I couldn’t see him; he stayed just outside my peripheral vision, pacing behind me. His hand suddenly wrapped around my face, his fingers shoved into my mouth and pressed down my tongue. I gagged but he kept them there, merciless. “Watch that gag reflex, girl. You don’t want to throw up on my dick, do you?”
“You know you’d love it if she did.” Manson looked directly into my eyes as he said it, striding back into my view with Jason right behind him. The way he looked at me was challenging, mocking — like he wanted to taunt me into continuing to fight.
It worked.
“You’re a bunch of sickos!” I shouted. “Perverted freaks! You’ll never get away with this, I will tell everyone what you did!”
Manson and Jason looked at each other, eyes wide, expression uncertain. But when they looked back at me, all that faux uncertainty vanished.
“Sickos?” Jason said innocently, stepping closer. “Freaks? That’s not very nice, Jessica.”
“I think the lady protests too much,” Vincent said, popping up beside me like a damned jack-in-the-box. “Perhaps she’s ashamed? Perhaps a little…embarrassed…about her reaction?” He sank down until he was kneeling below me, looking at me with curious eyes as he walked his fingers up my leg. “What have we here? Is that…perhaps…a wet spot on your thong?” He stroked his finger over me and I struggled, trying and failing to jerk away from him. “Oh my, someone is a naughty girl, isn’t she? Let’s see…” He pushed my thong aside and pressed two fingers inside me. I was already so wet that he slid in easily.
“Oh, you little whore! You’re enjoying this, look at you!” Vincent swiftly stood and held up his fingers, glistening with my arousal. Then he pushed them into my mouth, far back on my tongue until I choked. “That’s right. Taste what you’ve done. I bet you’d love it if we fucked this wet pussy; you’re already dripping for us. You want to be bred so badly, don’t you? Stuffed with cum and knocked up.”
My eyes widened.
“It would serve the teasing little slut right,” Manson said. “Put our baby in her and she’d never get away from us again.”
Their words were filthy, terrifying — but outside of the roleplay, beyond the fantasy, they struck my heart instantly. My eyes darted between them, searching — hoping — for a glimpse of sincerity.
Manson paused.
“What do you think of that, angel?” he said, and I knew he was checking in, he was waiting for my go-ahead. “Would it serve you right to become our perfect little housewife, take our seed again and again until we put a baby in you?”
Rapidly, I nodded. I’d been fighting them so hard, but I didn’t want to fight anymore. I wanted to please, I wanted to submit.
His crooked grin was so damn sexy. “We’re going to fuck you then, Jess. All of us, one after the other, until you’re so full with us that you’re dripping.” He walked away suddenly, and came back with his knife. He flipped it open, the movement of his fingers shockingly fast. Carefully, he ran his tongue along the blade, opening a small cut on his tongue that swiftly welled with blood.
Then he was kissing me, tongue in my mouth. He sliced through the ropes, cutting them away until he could take me in his arms and lift me up. My legs wrapped around him, I gripped his hair with one hand and dragged the nails of my other hand down the nape of his neck.
“I want to watch them fuck you until you can’t move,” he snarled. He leaned forward suddenly, laying me down on the leather-padded table we had nearby. Vincent was right there with more rope, and he gave me a grin as he began to bind me again.
I squirmed, breathlessly pleading with them, “Wait — wait, please — no —”
Vincent paused, having nearly finished binding my wrist to my ankle. “Color?” he said softly.
“Green,” I responded, smiling quickly. “I’m just losing myself in the roleplay. I’m such a distressed damsel.”
Vincent snorted, hanging his head for a moment. “Baby, you’re going to make me break character.”
“Oh, um…” I widened my eyes again, whimpering, “I’m so sorry, sir.”
Still laughing at me, he gripped my face with one hand, squeezing my checks. “You sassy little brat. We’re going to fuck that sarcasm out of you, aren’t we?”
He finished tying me, securing my wrists to my ankles. The result was that I was lying on my back with my legs lifted and spread. My feet flexed and my toes curled, helpless to move otherwise. They all surrounded me, but it was Vincent who stood between my legs first. He pulled down the zipper on his latex pants, the tightness of which left nothing to the imagination. He cock fell forward, rigidly hard as it jutted toward me.
“Look at that pretty little hole,” he said, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth over me. “I bet you’ll be so fucking tight. Lucky me, I get you first.” He chuckled darkly. “I get to rip you open.”
True to his word, he shoved his cock into me and it did feel like he was going to rip me apart, split me in half. My body was quaking, my legs trembling uncontrollably. Every stroke was luxuriously deep. He’d bottom out inside me, and then push just a little more — enough to make me ache and beg.
“So-so deep, Vince, please — oh my God —”
“Aw, don’t you sound so sweet,” he cooed. “Look at that sexy pout on your face. Is that too deep for you, baby?”
“No, not — ah — not too — fuck —”
“She can’t even get her words out,” Jason said, laughing at me as he stood beside the table. “I think you’re going to make her come, Vincent.”
“Fuck yeah, look at her eyes roll back,” Lucas said, standing at my head as he peered down at me. God, they seemed massive, like giants while I was a tiny bug. Lucas braced his hands against both sides of my face, saying, “Come for him, girl. Let’s see how messy you can get.”
I cried out with abandon as I came. I was spread so wide, and Vincent was hitting so deep, he made me squirt. I gushed around his cock, and received enthusiastic praise from the men gathered around me.
“You feel so good, baby,” Vincent said, hunching over me, punishing me with every thrust. “I’m going to breed this pussy every fucking day, you hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” I groaned as his face contorted with pleasure, driving into me hard as he came. He remained bent over me for nearly a minute, arms braced against the table, before he slowly dragged his cock out. I could feel myself dripping but I was helpless to do anything about it.
Then Jason stepped into position.
“Nice and wet for me,” he said, tapping his ridiculously thick cock against me. He tapped once, twice, then he plunged inside and groaned. “Fuck, yes, you’re dripping all over the place.” He looked down as he moved inside me, watching his cock drag in and out.
“Oh my God, Jason, pleeeaaase!” My begging drew out into a desperate whine as he leaned over me.
“Is it too much, princess?” he said sweetly. “Does it feel so good you just can’t take it?” He was fucking me slow, in long strokes that I felt deep inside me as his hips pressed against my ass.
“Feels so good,” I murmured. My eyes nearly rolled back as he increased the speed of his thrusts.
“That’s it, Jason, let’s hear her moan,” Vincent said. His hands were resting on the table beside me as he watched, and Manson stood opposite from him. Lucas still loomed over my head, his suit unzipped so he could stroke his cock.
Jason groaned, shuddering as he hunched over me and filled me with his seed. He kept rocking inside me even after he came, until slowly pulling out. They all leaned over to inspect me afterwards, as I lay helplessly spread open on the table.
Manson said, “I think you fucked the sense out of her, J, look at her eyes.”
God, I was in bliss. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t string together a coherent sentence — but I moaned with need when Lucas moved into position, stroking himself, his tongue trailing slowly along his lower lip.
“Look at that messy cunt,” he said, slapping the head of his cock against me. He rubbed himself through the cum dripping out of me, and without any preamble, shoved himself inside with one smooth thrust.
There was a deep, primal satisfaction to being entered so viciously. He fucked into me immediately, brutally. There was no build-up; there was no mercy. I was wailing with complete abandon, as loudly and recklessly as I wanted. I was sore already, and Lucas’s cock hit that deep aching spot inside me.
“Scream for me, girl,” he said, hips slapping against me. Every plunge of his cock sounded so wet. “Can’t do anything except lay there and take it, just like a good fucktoy should.”
He came inside me with a rough groan. He pulled out of me, letting loose a string of curses as he caught his breath.
“There you go, Manson,” he said, chuckling softly. “How’s that for sloppy seconds?” He plunged his fingers into me, slick and wet. He fingered their cum inside me, pumping it into me. The lewd sound made me whimper.
Manson moved to stand between my legs, gripping his cock. Lucas withdrew his fingers, leaned down and stroked his tongue along Manson’s shaft. My Master shivered, grinning with pleasure as he caressed Lucas’s head, running his palm over skull.
“Mm, so excited, aren’t you, baby?” Vincent murmured. “Do you want Manson to fill you up with his cum?”
I nodded, wiggling my bound legs, inching my hips toward him. Manson hooked his finger around my collar as he leaned over me, and my stomach fluttered.
“Tell me what you want,” he said. His cock was poised to sink inside me and I wanted nothing more than to feel that deep, perfect ache again.
“Please,” I said. “Please, sir. Fuck me.”
Manson entered me slowly, keeping his eyes on my face. I was so wet, so full already; I felt messy and lewd as he squeezed into me. He groaned as he settled inside me, moving with slow, almost lazy thrusts at first.
It hurt so good, my pussy was so sore. Manson pulled back his hips, gripped my thighs, and tugged me toward him as he thrust forward again. I squealed, nonsensical words streaming out of me, “Feels so good, so fucking good, God, please…”
“Look at me,” Manson said, and I lifted my eyes. There was a whole cocktail of hormones rushing through my bloodstream, and the chemical reaction left me feeling high. “Don’t look away.” He pulled almost fully out of me before he thrust in again, dragging a shattered cry from my lips. “I want to see your face when I pump you full.”
Even though I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut tight, I didn’t. I held Manson’s gaze, overwhelmed by the rising wave of pleasure and pain. Vincent reached down, rubbing his fingers over my clit as Manson pounded into me.
“Can’t come again!” I cried, legs wiggling helpless. “Oh, please, Vince, please, I can’t, I’m so sensitive, it hurts…”
“You’re going to come anyway, baby,” he said, his tone gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. “You’re going to be a good girl and come all over Manson’s cock, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I barely nodded. My body was completely beyond my control and they manipulated me like it was nothing. Every inch of me clenched and trembled. I was weeping, but the tears that streaked down my cheeks weren’t a bad thing — it was a relief to cry, scream, and struggle as the pleasure took hold.
Jason kissed my cheek as I came, saying, “Such a good girl, Jess, that’s it. Feels so good, doesn’t it?”
“God, look at you shake,” Lucas said. “Gorgeous little thing. Scream for us, go on, let it out.”
I did — it was so much. It was pleasure and pain, degradation and praise, cruelty and love. And I was bursting apart; I was a bundle of nerves and desire and satiated need as Manson came inside me.
***
“Mm, pass me another peanut butter cup, please?”
It was 4am and the bathroom smelled like chocolate and weed. We lay in the tub, the jacuzzi jets blasting, the hot water filling the air with steam. Jason fumbled with the bag of candy, his eyes half closed, sunk down in the water up to his chin. He passed me the treat, and I added its wrapping to the little pile on the edge of the tub behind me.
“You’re never going to get to sleep if you keep eating all that sugar,” Manson said. His eyes were fully closed; I’d thought he was already asleep. Lucas had knocked out, and his head was slumped against Manson’s shoulder as he snored.
“Trust me, I’ll be able to sleep,” I said. “I feel like I need to recover for a week after this.”
“As you should,” Vincent said, passing me the joint. His long hair was tied up into a messy bun to keep it out of the water. He tugged Jason closer, wrapping his arm around him with a soft sigh. “We should probably get out soon anyway. I’m getting all pruney.”
“I think we all need to recover for a week,” Jason said, stretching as he sat up. “You’ve got a dangerous pussy, Jess. It sucked out my soul.” He tried to stand up, slipped, and sloshed water all around the tub. I started laughing, and Lucas blinked his eyes rapidly as he woke up.
“Shit,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. “I gotta get to bed. Benji is supposed to call in the morning. I don’t wanna miss it.”
He’d been looking forward to that call with his brother all week. Apparently, there was a chance Benji was going to be released from prison early for good behavior. But Lucas would find out more during that phone call tomorrow. As excited as he was about it, he was obviously nervous too. He hadn’t talked to Benji in years.
“Alright, let’s get out,” Manson said. Water streamed down his chest as he stood up, then carefully stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist. I’d lost track of time while we relaxed in the tub, and the hot water had eased the stress out of all my muscles. Between my legs, however, was still particularly sore.
Standing in front of the mirror, I quickly fixed my wet hair into a single long braid. Seeing that collar sitting around my neck, glistening and beautiful, made me smile uncontrollably. I leaned toward the mirror, tracing my finger along the slim ring.
Manson wrapped arms around me from behind, resting his head on top of mine. “Do you like it?” he said. “Jason was pretty sure that’s the one you wanted.”
“It’s perfect.” I turned around and kissed him. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”
He smiled. “That’s all I wanted to hear, angel. It looks beautiful on you.”
“Come on. Bed. Now.” Lucas tugged on Manson’s hand, trying to drag him out of the bathroom. “I’m going to fall asleep standing up.”
We’d pushed two King-sized mattresses together for our monstrosity of a bed. There was plenty of room for all of us, and we had heaped the bed with blankets and pillows. I thought the size was absolutely luxurious. It was a warm and comfortable nest; one of my favorite places in the house.
Jason and Vincent were already in bed. I ran ahead of Lucas and Manson so I could leap toward the mattress, landing softly in the mounds of pillows. Vincent and Jason immediately snuggled close to me, while Manson and Lucas crawled into bed. Not one of them had even bothered to put on underwear.
Lucas wrapped his arm around my waist, sighing tiredly, and Manson settled in behind him. The bed had enough space for us to stretch out, and throughout the course of the night we would end up sprawled away from each other. But as we fell asleep, we were almost always piled together in a heap.
As tired as I was, before I closed my eyes, I had to ask, “So…during the roleplay earlier…what you said about getting me pregnant…what was that all about?”
Manson snickered, “I never thought I had a kink for that. But that was really fucking sexy.”
Vincent laughed. “Yeah, admittedly, I never thought I’d be into it either. But damn, talking to you like that, filling you up until you were so messy…” He exhaled a long breath. “That was amazing.”
“I mean, what you all were saying about breeding and knocking me up…” It felt almost silly to talk about that way, comically sexual. We’d never played that way before, I’d never even thought about it. But now that we’d tried it, I liked it far more than I expected to.
The idea of growing our family…someday…was truly beautiful to me.
“Are you asking if we meant it?” Jason said, kissing my hands as he snuggled closer.
“Yeah, I guess…I guess that is what I’m asking,” I said.
“We’re not trying to make anything happen right away,” Manson said. “But in a couple years…we might need you to get that IUD removed.”
“If you think that’s something you want,” Vincent added.
“Because we know it’s what we want,” Lucas said, and kissed the back of my neck. “Kids terrify me, but…you know…it’d be pretty cool.”
“Someday,” Jason said. “I think we’d all really like that.”
It was difficult to contain how happy that made me. I didn’t think I was ready for kids now; my career was only just getting started, the boys had their business to run and it was growing bigger every day. But someday, I knew I’d really like that too.
“Now get to sleep,” Manson said tiredly. “We can talk about babies when we’re not so tired.” But I was still wiggling with excitement, all the sugar in my bloodstream not allowing me to keep still. I squirmed around and rolled over to my other side, and Manson muttered, “I told you that candy would keep you awake.”
“Sorry, sorry,” I giggled. “You can punish me tomorrow.” I sat up, and leaned over Lucas so I could kiss Manson’s cheek and whisper, “Master.”
