Page 6 of Room Twenty-Eight: Her Beautiful Surrender

They flow through me like the rapids of a wild river, mixing and mingling until all I can do is hold on for the ride. When I signed on for this night, this fantasy of mine, I consented to it playing out however the man they chose for me saw fit. As it turns out, it’s three men.

Three virile men.

And somehow, they decided I was the one they wanted. I can’t blame them; it’s not every day a woman requests to be taken by force. Especially a virgin. But I requested that part be left out of my file because I knew, without a doubt, that if a man, a really good man, realized I’d never been touched, then he would be gentle.

I don’t want gentle.

I want rugged, primal, feral even. I want it raw and wild. Without mercy, yet still be taken care of and shown that carnality can be a beautiful thing.

So far, these three are presenting me with exactly that, but I can’t help the tension in my body every time they touch me. Even when it’s pleasurable, like now, with a tongue between my legs, lapping at me like I’m the last ice cream cone on earth, and another fucking my mouth with his fingers.

I try holding back the moans, keeping my body in check. I can’t. It wants what it wants, and I can’t force it to be any other way, so I start thinking of all the crappy things in my life.

The father who disowned me before I was born.

The mother who abandoned meas soon asI was born.

The shitty foster homes. The asshole cops and social workers who didn’t believe me when I was ten that my foster father was sneaking into my bed at night, so I had to defend myself. Plunging that knife into his pudgy belly barely stopped him from forcing himself on me.

God, that’s why I’m such a mess…why I need this.

The vicious nuns would shame me for sure if they knew this was where the sexual abuse would lead me. Not that they needed a reason to treat me like a slab of meat and a punching bag. But this time, it’s my choice. It’s a fantasy I’ve had for many years, one I’ve tried and failed to stifle.

“Come back to me, sweet girl.” I hear Colt’s voice. I only know his name because one of them said it. “You’re drying up on me again, and I know you’re going to need the wetness for Major when he takes this tight little pussy of yours.” I whimper at the warning. I don’t want to be wet; I want it to hurt. I want him…them…to hurt me until I feel beautiful.

“Hurt me,” I barely plea around the fingers in my mouth, strangling my voice and stunting my breaths. “Please,” I try again when silence breaches my eardrums.

Hot breath spreads across the side of my neck and under my ear before a rumbling voice says, “I plan to.”

The bed rises as they all step back, and I’m left needy and afraid of what comes next when I feel a tender finger slide down the length of my arm. It’s barely a brush of a touch, but it’s there, and goosebumps rise on my flesh.

Biting my lip, I startle when music begins to play, loud enough that it drowns out my thoughts, and I can’t hear what they’re doing around me. I feel the breeze of movement by my side, then down near my leg. A door slams, and for a moment, I think they’ve left me. Naked and bound, worry seeps into my bones.

They were being soft, sweet, preparing me; now, they’re taunting me. Playing mind games after relaxing me, and I realize that was the intent all along. Get me on a level of comfort only to rip it away.

Anticipation causes me to squirm when I realize I don’t want to be buzzing with energy, I want to fight them, I want it to be as real as possible so that I can get the experience I seek. I wait, trying to listen, to get a feel for where they are, and when I think I’ve got a handle on what’s happening, I start pulling on my arms.

I beg and plead with them to let me go, to not hurt me, yanking on my wrists and kicking out with my legs until finally, two steady hands encircle my ankles. Holding me still, squeezing tight enough that I’m sure he’s left bruises, and I must bite back a whimper when I feel fingers on each nipple, pinching, twisting, and pulling, drawing out a deep-seated scream until a slap across my ass steals the air from my lungs.

The shameless chuckle when my body seizes from pleasure peeks through the sound of the thumping base of the music, and I whine when a hand grips a fistful of my hair and drags my head back.

“Please,” I beg. “Stop.” I earn another slap, this time on each nipple. “No more.” I play further into the fantasy. I need it like I need my next breath. “I can’t!” I cry out so loudly that it pierces the other sounds in the room.

There’s a dip in the bed between my legs, and when I kick, I get one leg loose, my heel landing on a solid rock wall of a chest before it’s recaptured. “Naughty little kitten,” the man laughs, biting down on the thickness of my thigh until I swear the skin cracks and bleeds. I feel the blunt head of his cock against my entrance, and I freeze, unable to even breathe, but he doesn’t move any farther; all movement ceases entirely.

“Open your whore mouth,” Colt, who seemed so sweet, demands with a light slap to my cheek. I do as he says. “Tongue out,” he grunts, and I feel him straddling my chest. “Now!” He slaps my cheek again. Obeying him, I wait, suspended in this space of anxious torture until warm liquid slides across my tongue, and I realize he spit in my mouth.

I wasn’t expecting that, so I don’t get a chance to do or say anything before he shoves his cock down my throat, reaching my tonsils, and I begin gagging, but he doesn’t let up. I don’t get to catch my breath or beg for a chance to recenter myself. Instead, I feel the man between my legs plunge into my virgin channel and mercilessly take what I’ve been dying to give so that I scream while being choked by the dick in my mouth.

Pain rips through my body, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I attempt to breathe through my nose, forgetting momentarily that this is what I asked for. I fight hard, kicking, screaming, biting down on the firm flesh between my lips until my hair is yanked back and someone whispers in my ear.

“Careful, darlin’, or we’ll stop. Safe word or not. We don’t want to hurt you so bad you don’t enjoy this.” He lightly kisses my fluttering pulse before continuing, “Nice and easy. You feel Major’s oversized dick in your cunt like a brick fuckin’ wall, don’t you?” I can only nod slightly. “Good, that’s good, because the look on his face is pure paradise as he slides in and out. He’s working harder now, though; be ready for more pain.”

I whimper at the speaker’s threat, my fingers flexing in and out of fists, trying to grab onto something when the body above my chest leans forward, forcing my head back farther as he slides deeper down my throat. His hands clasp mine, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the inside of my wrists as he thrusts in unison with Major in my pussy.

The ache down there throbs from the forced penetration, and as I absorb it, catalog the way I feel as he ruts within me like a madman, I feel myself growing wetter. I know I’ll be sore come morning…hell, even when he’s finished with me, but god, do I love it.

Arching my back to take them deeper into me, I get lost in the pleasure until I can’t take it anymore, and my body combusts. Stars flash behind my eyelids, and my heart feels like it’s about to explode from my chest. It’s like I’m floating as ecstasy fills my body with need and desire.

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