Page 80 of Knot My Sin

I plan to wake up Bruce by unceremoniously shoving this stick up his ass. Finding a dirty rag, I shove it in his mouth, pushing it deep so it’ll mute the noise. The alpha struggles a little, but remains unconscious.

Amb sighs, finding a rag and doing the same for Craig.

“I swear, you and your overstimulation, baby,” he murmurs. “The things I do for love.”

Ugh, it would be fine if they didn’t scream like whiny babies. Everest merely grabs his rag without complaint, shoving it down Mark’s throat until he gags. I walk over to the control panel on the wall, turning Craig around so they all face the same way.

Smirking, I heft the weight of my implementation device, excited to see how well it’ll rip his tiny asshole apart. No lube, no enjoyment. Game fucking on.

“On the count of three,” I lecture as we get into position. Unfortunately, it means pulling apart each alpha’s ass cheeks to get a view of their puckered hole.

Everest makes a face as he lines up his spike, and I grin as I draw out the anticipation. Poor Bruce doesn’t know what’s about to be shoved up his ass. Just the way I want it.

“One, two, three!” I yell, thrusting hard into his asshole. Bruce screams as he jerks awake, but thankfully they’re muffled by the gag.

Amb has an interesting twist and thrust sort of form as he works, making sure to leave splinters behind. These spikes weren’t sanded down completely, outside of where our hands are holding it. It’s perfect.

Everest on the other hand, doesn’t give a shit about form, pushing and pulling his wooden shaft in and out as he goes. There’s a bit of blood that seems to form, which he uses to shove it even deeper.

“Fuck,” I swear as I see the method to his madness. Hating to lose, I begin to push and twist the wood at an angle, shredding the delicate internal cavity. Bruce’s asshole splits perfectly. “They’ll never have a normal shit again.”

Everest snickers as he works, pulling out almost to the tip before shoving it in as hard as possible. Mark shudders as he screams, back bowing in agony. Still, all three of them stay awake with the pain. Damn, this contest may end up being a draw. Together, we work, singing the most ridiculous songs because it’s hilarious.

“Mmmbop!” I begin, making Amb burst out laughing. Listen, there’s nothing like using the rhythm of a Hanson song to really get into a groove. Everyone should try this.

Finally, Mark passes out first, with just an inch to spare. Walking around, I can see the bulge in his stomach from the wood, and all of them have blood running down their legs from our torture.

“Eh, not bad, though. They all lasted longer than I thought they would,” I admit. “Bruce looks like he’s starting to fade, and I’m pretty sure that Craig passed out a second after Mark. Shall we bring out the blow torches?”

“Yeah, I just need to take some dick pics,” Everest says with a wild grin as he pulls off his bloody gloves and tosses them in the garbage. Reaching for his phone in his back pocket, he makes certain to take photos of each filleted open penis.

I have to say I really like mine. It has the best lines, while Amb’s looks like a Venus flytrap, and Everest split his into sections so it almost looks like a flower. Amb got really into his cutting. Eh, art is art.

Moving over to pick up a blow torch, I decide to make sure to hold their heads back as I light them up. I’m cutting it off at the end, I want him to feel every second of pain before he dies.

Everest finishes with his photos, and he and Amb walk over to select their blow torch.

“I vote that gasoline is overkill,” I explain. “The flame will be hot enough without going overboard. It’ll keep them alive for longer as well. What do you think about lighting their hairy knots first and going up from there? Also, let’s make sure to keep their heads back for when we cut them off.”

“God, why is it so hot when you’re in charge,” Everest grunts, grabbing my hair to kiss me hard. Grinning as I lean in, I don’t even care if I may end up with some blood on me. This is why we keep clothes here.

“Agreed,” Amb purrs, pulling me to him to grind his cock against mine.

“Fuck,” I groan into his mouth. “We need to make sure we kill them before we fuck. I don’t know how long the assholes will live.”

Shrugging, Amb steps back to move toward our captives.

“I want to be in the photo with the head,” he insists. “It’s my courting photo.”

Rolling my eyes because I’m already bonded to her and I don’t need the accolades, I nod. “Everest, anything to say about this?” I ask, walking slowly with him toward our captives.

The alpha’s eyes are empty, but their faces are the perfect picture of horror. They flinch every time one of our footsteps strikes the ground with our heavy boots, sensory deprivation working in our favor. Smirking, I turn on the blow torch.

There’s a very specific sound it makes, and even a smell. God, it’s one of my favorite things during a really good torture session. Fuck, this is satisfying.

Whimpers and groans sound around the gags, and Amb and Everest fist bump each other as they turn on their torches. Grabbing Mark’s hair to keep his head back, Everest shrugs.

“If Amb is gonna be in the photo, then I do too,” he grunts, making Amb chuckle.

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