My master's familiar, calloused hand wraps around my throat and my breath hitches. I straighten up reflexively, adjust my hips slightly, and drop my eyes to my lap. In my peripheral vision, I can see my Daddy set down his wine and pat his lips dry. We'd been having dinner together in my kitchen, a private, quiet night. My master had told me he'd be out of town for another day, but there's no mistaking the feel of his hand and the way he squeezes my airway.
Master pulls upwards, fingers pressed under my chin, and I rise as commanded, crossing my hands behind my back so when he presses against me I cup his warm manhood. He has powerful, muscular legs that press into mine, and his arms match.
When Master speaks, his hot breath tickles my cheek and I melt into him. His voice is hoarse and low. "Strip."
I'm wearing a simple sundress, so it's easy to flick the spaghetti straps off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. With my chin still held up, it's harder to remove my thong and I have to shimmy a little to get it down my legs.
"Look at me." My daddy's voice is thick with lust, a sound I know well. We've been having an affair for a couple of months now (with my master's consent, of course), and he's seen my naked form plenty of times, but this time, I'm filled with nerves. Was he part of planning this, or had my master simply returned early? My cheeks flush, and a wave of arousal washes over me as I follow my instructions.
Daddy is leaning back casually in his chair as he rolls up the sleeves of the tight button-down he's wearing. His dark, wavy hair just brushes his powerful shoulders, and his movements make the front of his shirt gap just a bit. As he loosens his tie and opens his top buttons, he reveals a shock of dark chest hair.
I'm drooling. The feel of the cool liquid dribbling down my chin brings me back to the real world.
My master uses his free hand to tweak first one nipple, then the other, as Daddy stares hungrily back at me. Master releases my throat long enough to fasten clamps to my breasts, then squeezes even harder, cutting off my oxygen completely.
One
Stay calm. Count.
Two
Don't try to breathe.
Three
I can feel my pussy growing hot.
Four
I'm wet.
Five
Soaked.
Six
I can't stay still. I start to bounce from foot
Seven
To foot
Eight
To foot.
Nine
What's that
Ten
noise? There's a
Eleven
squealing-
Sir releases me, and I realize that I was squealing. Dumb. Waste of air. I gasp and flush.
I blink, and realize my eyes are open. I can see Daddy. He looks just as horny as before, and he's moved closer, close enough to touch me. He's stroking my cheek, and I tilt my face up, begging silently for a kiss.
And how can he resist? I know what I look like right now. He's made me look like this, in fact, teasing me relentlessly and forcing me to stare at myself in the mirror, teasing me until I'm desperate enough for his taste. His face comes closer to mine, his soft, full lips parting. His cologne surrounds me, and I swear I can feel the stubble of his beard.
He pulls away.
A sharp pain draws my attention down. Daddy has started pulling at the chain connecting my nipple clamps, forcing my small, puffy nipples to stand out from my chest. Behind me, my master has started to wrap something around my wrists. Is he--
I'm distracted by the pain in my tits, which has amped up incredibly. The clamps are halfway off, and Daddy is continuing to pull at them. I want to wrench backwards, get the stupid things off, but my master behind me is keeping me in place. The pain gets worse and worse and worse until, with a pop, the clamps are pulled completely free. I lean back into the familiar chest of my master, and realize that he's tied my arms behind me, rope stretching from my wrists to my elbows.
They've planned this, the bastards.
My master guides my hands back to his denim-clad erection and begins choking me again. This time, as he holds me, Daddy plays with my nipples, then dips his hand down to the soft stretch of flesh in the fold between my thigh and my mound. I count to fifteen before my master allows me to take a breath, and he begins choking me again as soon as I've regained my breath. Daddy reaches around to caress my ass, his free hands brushing against my bound ones. He pulls me slightly away from my master, and at this angle, I can feel Daddy grope my master's hot, hard shaft.
This time, when my master releases me, I fall forward into Daddy. I'm lightheaded, and without my hands to balance, I have to trust these men. As I breath, one of them makes a collar appear and wraps it around my throat. My master hooks his finger in the collar, and together they lead me into the playroom. As they do, I catch a glimpse of my master's face, his chiseled, clean-shaven jaw and his close-cropped hair. He looks ecstatic to be doing this, and I am worried that portends a long night ahead of me.
Working in tandem, my men tie me over the spanking bench. It's a custom piece of furniture, elevating my ass while leaving my tits hanging free. There's a cushion for my face to rest in, with a strap that keeps my head in place. My legs are held apart, and a light breeze tickles my pussy.
I can't see either man, just the floor below me. I can see their shoes sometimes as they move around my immobile body, but the bastards are wearing the same thing and I can't tell which is which. I recognize Daddy's favorite flogger as it ebbs into my field of vision, seconds before a blow lands square across both my nipples. I reflexively try to jerk away, only to be met with a blow on my ass. That one also feels like Daddy's flogger, although it's a harder blow than he usually opens with. Maybe that means he's in front of me, and Master behind? I study the tip of the shoe I can see, trying to tell --
A pair of blows lands, one on each shoulder. These feel like floggers, one in each man's hand. Another pair jolts me, then another. A second pair of shoes comes into view, and suddenly the world around me goes a little dark. I realize that an erection is pressed against each side of my head, and hear moaning. A shirt drops on the floor, then another. They're making out, they must be. The idea lights me on fire. The two men who own me, the men I want more than anything. I burn to see them enjoying each other.
Hands cover each of my ears, but I can vaguely hear the men speaking to each other. Not enough to understand, but enough to place them. Master on my right, Daddy on my left. Their pants drop to the floor, then their boxers. The strap behind my head is removed, as is the face cushion, and Daddy's cock comes into view. I know what's expected of me, and hold my mouth open to receive him. After a couple short strokes, getting his shaft soaked with my spit, he thrusts abruptly into my throat and holds me in place.
"Little fucktoy, I heard you don't throat your master." My face burns with shame as he pulls out. Spit pours out of me as I reply, "Yes, Daddy."
Back on his cock, nose pressed to his stomach. "Yes, Daddy," mocking me with his tone. "Yes, Daddy, what? You do throat him, cunt? Or you don't?" I gag just before he leaves my hole.
"I don't throat him, Daddmmmfffff." I'm cut off by his thrust in.
"We're going to fix that today. You're going to be his fuckhole." He thrusts in and out a few times, then pulls free completely and steps away, although his hand is still in my hair.
Master's cock comes into view. Daddy's cock is amazing, and I worship it every chance I get. But Master's is huge. Long, wide. I've tried to throat him before and it just doesn't fit. I try again, though, hoping the warmup Daddy gave me will help. Master's hand is in control of my head now, and it presses me down harshly, but I can't. I'm gasping with effort when I am allowed to breathe.
A huge blow lands on my left ass cheek, then another on my right immediately after. I cut my scream short to stutter out a "One and two, thank you Daddy." And then my mouth is filled again, and the massive cockhead is pressing at the opening to my throat. I swallow, remembering my training, and get the smallest amount of the cock in for a millisecond. A vibrator nudges against my clit, giving me the briefest bit of stimulation.
Master's shaft pulls from my lips, and two more hits land, a little lower this time. I'm ready for these, and I'm screaming THREE before the fourth lands. "Four! Thank you Daddy!!"
They keep working at me, giving me pleasure when my master is in my throat, punishment when I push him out. My ass is on fire, and Daddy has moved to my thighs when I finally, fully take Master into my throat. He pauses for a few seconds, enjoying the sensation, before he starts thrusting. Each thrust inward slides into my throat easily now, and the vibrator stays on my pussy, rewarding me for my hard work.
Daddy slides into my hole now too, grazing my g-spot and making my hips jump despite my bonds. The two of them work together, pressing into me at the same time, so I'm filled with cock and then devoid of it. I have a new problem now: my building orgasm. I'm not allowed to cum without permission - neither of them would tolerate that. I've worked so hard to control myself, but there's so much happening right now.
Every time Daddy thrusts in, my ass burns from its beating. He's still working my g-spot and clit, and Master is playing with my tits as he uses my throat. I try to take my mind away, float off into subspace. Give myself the chance to make it through. My master, buried in my throat, must be able to tell, because he slaps my cheek.
"Stay here, fucktoy. With us. Not long now."
"Is our toy going somewhere?" Daddy asks.