Page 162 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

“Won’t be free for long.”

Fingers–I think it’s fingers–swipe through my very dry pussy as Caleb undoes the buckle behind my head and lets the gag fall to the ground. I work my jaw, moving it side to side, then in a circle, trying to ignore what’s being done behind me.

Fuck, my jaw hurts. Now I know what some of Natalie’s subs feel like during her longer sessions. I want nothing more than to let my mouth just hang open and relax, but I know that’s not what’s about to happen. I think I knew from the moment I woke up on that floor what their plan was. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.

Caleb mutters something about teaching me a lesson while he unzips his pants, but then his brother speaks up.

“I thought you wanted her snatch first.”

I hate that word.It’s a ridiculous thought, but it’s the one that breaks through the pain radiating through my entire body.

“Fuckin’ right, I do.” Caleb looks like a toddler walking away, his pants sliding down further with each step. He trades places with his brother.

I want to squeeze my eyes shut, but I willnotgive in to the fear. I will not react. This time, I’ll remain silent as the fucking grave.

“And I,” Jesse says, standing in front of me, “get to fuck this pretty little mouth.” He squeezes my chin and forces my head back and up as far as it will go so that I can see his eyes through the holes in the ski mask. The same beady, brown eyes as his brother’s. “And then we’re gonna cut your slut throat and dump your body where no one is ever gonna fucking find you.”

My jaw clenches.Thatis Jesse’s idea. This sick, twisted fuck doesn’t like that I made his brother look weak and him too, by extension.

Jesse pulls down his boxers to reveal a rather pathetically small dick. Even if I didn’t make porn and stare at well-endowed men all the time, this guy would be considered small. Talk about an inferiority complex. These two should be studied.

If Natalie were here, she’d launch into a slew of insults like she does with her subs. I’ve heard her in action. It’s a thing of beauty. Instead, all I can make out through pinched cheeks are two words.

“How cute.” My voice is low, but Jesse catches my insult nonetheless.

The back of his hand makes contact with my cheek as he drops my chin and my world spins, my ears ringing once more. He grabs my jaw again and I’m forced to look at his face.

“What was that, bitch?”

Oh my, Jesse, what an inadequate dick you have there.

I remain silent and Jesse sneers. I don’t know what Caleb has been waiting for. There’s no barrier between his cock and my entrance. When Jesse takes a step forward, bringing himself that much closer to my face, I clamp my mouth closed. If he ever gets between my lips, I’ll bite his dick off, I swear.

My whole body is trembling, my chest still tight. The only thing in my line of sight seems to be the smaller-than-average erection in front of me.

A loud bang rings through the space, echoing in the tiny room. My eyes shut on instinct and I hear a thud behind me. Another bang and the ringing in my ears, which hasn’t stopped since the last slap across my cheek, grows louder. My jaw is free. I hear a similar thud in front of me. When I open my eyes, Jesse is crumpled to the ground, dick on display, a gaping hole in his chest. I think I can see one of his ribs poking through. His eyes stare absently at the ceiling as blood pools beneath him.

A sob rips from me as tears stream freely down my face. Trying to breathe feels overwhelming, the air choking me as I attempt to gulp it down. The pressure of the metal becomes too much, my immobile limbs bringing me closer to the brink of a meltdown. The panic attack finally strikes and I breathe faster, hyperventilating.

A warm touch lands on my ankles and I scream, trying to kick, but instead I barely move. My torso wiggles on the sawhorse, the edges digging into my skin. Someone’s trying to shush me, to shut me up, but I won’t be quieted. I continue to scream, even when my first leg is freed, kicking out at whoever it is. I won’t go down without a fight.

I won’t.

I won’t.

I won’t.

“Sophie.” It’s a voice I don’t recognize so I continue to try to battle.

My second leg is freed and I lash out again, rubbing my sensitive skin raw on the metal. For some reason, this person doesn’t seem to care. I don’t make contact so maybe they’re just not worried I’ll hurt them. My aim obviously needs work.

“Get away!” I cry when they crouch next to my arm, cutting through the rope around my wrist.

“Sophie, it’s ok.” The heavily tattooed man doesn’t exactly look friendly, but his voice is soft. He focuses on what he’s doing, careful not to slice my skin as he frees my right arm before moving to my left side.

My screaming has stopped, my throat raw. I’m not sure when, but I stopped fighting.

“I’m going to help you off of there,” he says gently, as he cuts the last of my bonds. “I want you to keep your eyes on me. I’m getting you out of here. Can I touch you?”

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