Page 27 of Their Cruel Love

I’m on edge, if aroused, definitely nervous, watching everything they do. My mouthful of ball-gag is distracting. Before I can see what he’s up to, he places the swab aside then fondles my breast.

Razor has stopped teasing me with the dildo. It’s so large my pussy is trying to clench down and is barely succeeding. “That’s good. How many shall we try you with, Phoebe? Five?” His voice is soft. He’s purred that, as if he’s contemplating turning into a tom cat.

“Uck off,” I gargle and shake my head, determined not to make this easy.

“Was that her swearing at me?”

“Yes.”

“There is here too. I might put one here.” My clit? He stoops and sucks on me, his tongue circling, stirring me, and I squirm my ass on the bed, spread my thighs a little.

He wouldn’t dare put a needle there?Please no.

I stare then cannot help sighing then gasping, as desire coils and builds. Wriggling toward his mouth is impossible to resist. Or rather, trying to. I push at him but can barely move. He’s sucking and licking in just the right way, circling my clit with his tongue again, dragging on me harder, then a little harder.

That rhythm…

He flutters his tongue tip.

A sound that’s half a moan, half a whimper escapes me. I plop my head back onto the bed. He’s working at me there, sucking, and begins to fuck me with the dildo. Then he stops and pushes a lubed anal plug into me, pushes some more, through the tight ring of muscle in my ass, until it pops inside.

I’m too turned on, too fucking tied in place, to want to do anything exceptfeel.

And though I flinched at the strange fullness, I’ve tried anal before. It’s not new,needlesare new.

Then his mouth resumes what it was doing and captures what seems my whole clit inside it. I groan. My legs jerk, pulling at the ropes, and the headboard creaks. I gape and try to look again, then give up. It’s as if he’s turned himself into an electric pump as he pulls on me with that mouth. The suction is glorious. I try to arch, but I’m doubled over, caught, can barely do anything except make helpless noises.

Quivering, mouth open, I tense, and ecstasy peaks. It fractures, spills, and I roar into a perfect little orgasm. The ropes tighten as my legs strain at them.

Razor stills but stays there, his tongue lying over my clit. I’m panting and wondering what the fuck. I was expecting more…more pain first.

My breast was still being fondled, now it’s grasped firmly in Brutus’s hand, encircling it. He claims it with that crushing grip. My thighs twitch and go through another spasm, courtesy of coming.

“Be good,” he tells me. I blink at him.

A second later he pushes a needle into the underside of that breast. I’m lost, cannot breathe. Razor sucks on me again, confusing me, but the lance of pain has my attention. I can feel the bar sitting there, going through my breast skin. I crane up my head, glimpse his wrist, but the needle and his hand are not visible.

“She was good,” he states.

But I’m whisper-swearing through the gag, feeling spit accumulate. I swallow it and I sigh.

I’m contemplating them sticking needles in a line down myfront when the plug is removed then promptly replaced by what feels a slightly larger one.

“I’m washing. Her hole is ready for you.” Razor gets off the bed, walks to the bathroom.

“Her hole.Hmmm.” Brutus sounds satisfied, smug.

I wriggle my ass, unsure if I’m liking that label. It’s degradation, I guess. I never signed up for that. Water is running in the bathroom.

Brutus comes to me across the bed, kneels closer. He presses my leg down, leans in over it, then kisses my nose. “Your perfect little asshole is about to get my cock fucking it. Remember this, Miss Phoebe Bartholemew. How you took my cock up there and loved it, came on it. Probably begged me to go deeper, all the way to your throat.”

My eyes are stuck open. If this is Marcus… I burble outfuck youbut it’s more drool than words. He only smiles and stands up on the bed, stroking his cock, slowly.

When Razor strolls back in, Brutus unties my feet from the headboard, letting me lower them, and I stretch my back. Casually, he places his foot on my throat, standing with his hand on the wall above.

“Don’t move. Stick a few more in her tits, Razor.” The calmness in his tone has me swallowing against the pressure on my throat. “Before I fuck her.”

“Why?”

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