"Where's the tough little bitch now, huh?" Marcus demanded, pulling me close enough our noses were practically touching. His free hand reached between my legs and I was helpless to stop him.
"No wonder Sammy wanted to keep you all to himself!" I closed my eyes shamefully. My legs finally collapsed, and Marcus had no other choice but to let go and catch me. The other two didn't miss a step, Judas grabbed my ankles and John shoved the coffee table out of the way as they lowered me to the floor. My head pulsed as I felt the blood flow return to it. It took several minutes before I became more aware and by then John was pinning my wrists while Marcus positioned himself between my legs; his jeans chafing against my skin. I wiggled, attempting to reposition my legs so that I could kick him off. Marcus didn't hesitate to respond with one quick punch to my stomach. It was as if the very air was immediately sucked out of my lungs and I puked in my mouth a little. He kept his fist raised in warning and I stopped fighting.
He unfastened his jeans, shoving them down along with his boxers. He wasn't very big, perhaps even on the lower side of average, but that didn't stop him from sinking his entire length into me. He found little resistance, the struggle had done all the prep work for him. Marcus grabbed the back of my thighs, forcing my knees together and closer to my face as he began fucking me. I grimaced and whimpered, tendons pushed to their limits, but he only covered my mouth and continued slamming his pelvis into me at a frenzied pace. Large fat tears rolled down my cheeks as sweat gathered on his brow. He placed my legs against his shoulder so that his free hand could reach around and squeeze one of my breasts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. I pulled at my arms, but it was useless, and I finally resigned myself to my fate. Marcus suddenly seized, hips flexing as he emptied himself inside me. The heat of it, the feeling of it coating my insides as his cock swelled and twitched made me cum instantly, milking the last few drops as he shuddered. There was something raw and primitive about a man Cumming inside me; I never quite knew if it was the risk or sheer sensation that excited me most. He gasped, pulling himself out and I finally let my led filled legs fall with a loud thump. His cheeks were flushed, and he nodded to his brothers with a lazy grin.
"Careful of this one, her pussy's like a vise grip," Marcus warned with a laugh.
"That's not the hole I'm after," Judas announced through clenched teeth. I didn't have to wait long before I discovered exactly what he meant. Together he and John flipped me over like a piece of meat, laying me over the footstool John had kicked closer. With my stomach pressed against the velvety fabric, my head and legs dangled from the other ends.
"Please, no... I'm sorry." But my plea fell on deaf ears. Judas unfastened his jeans, pulling a small tube from his pocket as he did. I caught a glance of the swirls of purples and knew immediately it was lube. As Sam had learned, I was no virgin. I didn't have time to dwell on it long before John grabbed my head and brought my attention back to his lap. He was standing at full attention, his jeans pulled down mid-thigh, peeled open to reveal himself and I gasped, it was too big. There was no way I was going to fit all that in my mouth! He walked forward on his knees to bring his cock closer and I pushed back against his thighs. At the same time, I could feel Judas's hands slide between my cheeks, leaving a thick cold trail of lube in its wake and my brain began to panic. Anal was not something I enjoyed, no matter how many different times I tried it. Every man thought he was going to be the one to change my mind. As if his dick was somehow magical and it wouldn't feel like I was having something rammed in my ass. But it never changed, it was always painful, always uncomfortable and I wished I could bury my head under the sand until it was over. John brought my attention back to the present as he forced my head even lower towards his groin, the warm tip of his penis bumping against my chin.
"Open up..." he sang as he slapped the head against my cheek a few times. I shook my head as I felt Judas spread my cheeks wide and I began to fight with renewed vigor. Judas leaned his forearm on my lower back, pinning me in place as he pressed against my rectum, forcing himself slowly inside me. Every muscle in me fought against the invasion, but that only seemed to encourage him to push harder. As I opened my mouth to scream John shoved his cock down my throat, successfully muffling it. John grabbed my wrists, twisting my arms around so that Judas could hold them behind my back, using them like handles to impale me. My legs shook as I danced on the edge of pleasure and pain. Judas found his rhythm while my mouth watered as I struggled to breathe around John. His hands tangled in my hair and my stomach flexed as I gagged on his girth, I knew he wasn't going to fit, at least not comfortably. The corners of my mouth felt like they would split open at any moment. I had no choice but to surrender, to relax and let them take what they pleased. They were determined to break me, wear me down and I was well past the point of exhaustion. Foam globs of thick spit began gathering at the base of his cock as he stretched my throat open more with every thrust, stopping only when I engulfed his entire length.
I sputtered and gasped as I sucked in precious air when he pulled out, moaning in pain. The sensation of them both filling me was beginning to override my senses until carnal need overwhelmed my brain. They both plowed into me, Judas's free hand gripped underneath my hips, almost holding my entire lower half off the ground as he drove himself into me mercilessly. John began fucking my throat as if we were doing some type of breath play, slobber gathered on my face, it felt as if every time he had himself down my throat, he held it there longer and longer each time. I couldn't protest, I couldn't push or pull, I was just an instrument of their pleasure. I could feel tension gathering low in my gut, a tsunami of endorphins now pumping in my veins. Then a cataclysmic orgasm swept through me, every single muscle seized, my vision turned gray and my lungs screamed for air as my body forgot how to breathe. The more I convulsed the faster they began to fuck me, both panting as they hurried to find their own release. Just as my body began to relax, my sight began to darken and the last thing I felt before passing out was them pumping me full of cum.
I came to and found myself drowning again. I started to panic as I tried to open my eyes, tried to reach out and find my ground only to discover my arms pinned to my sides and a heavy wet cloth being held over my face, obstructing my view. I desperately turned my head side to side, but it didn't budge. Only when the onslaught of water stopped, and the cloth was removed was I able to breathe again. I found myself on my back on the coffee table, my head hanging over the edge just barely, the metal tub beneath it. Marcus stood over me, a large clear pitcher in his hand, half of it was already gone. Judas kneeled beside the table, the dripping wet hand towel hanging in his hands. Clumps of wet hair stuck to my face, the rest was dripping into the bucket, John straddled my waist, keeping my legs pinned while he held my wrists down against the top of the coffee table. My eyes darted around the room and my gaze met with Arioch's. The cool, expressionless demeanor gave the impression of indifference but there was a dark look in his eyes that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
"Don't think we're going to let you escape all the fun that easily, we plan to fuck you into a cum covered mess."
"The damaged broken ones are always the most fun to play with," Arioch agreed, sipping from the whiskey bottle. Is that what I was? Damaged? Broken? I guess that made sense, why else would I be so turned on? Maybe the universe was punishing me for my depraved thoughts by giving me exactly what the darkest part of my soul craved. The sweet irony of it left a bitter taste behind. How would I begin to explain this to anyone? That was assuming that someday I would manage to escape.
"I think we should make her beg for it," Judas announced. Beg? I wanted to laugh in his face, but I found I couldn't muster the energy for it.
"Yes...beg us to fuck you." Marcus instructed. I shook my head, already near tears.
"You've gotten what you wanted, why can't you just leave me alone?"
"We're not even close to being finished with you yet."
"Beg us!" growled Judas, squeezing my wrists. I shook my head once more; Marcus nodded to John and the heavy cloth was back over my face.
I kicked my legs, slamming my heels into the wooden surface of the table as I turned my head from side to side, trying to break free. I thought I could hold my breath, that was until Marcus began pouring the water. The cloth stuck to my face like cling wrap and the pressure was slow, but it felt as though I was being assaulted by a fire hose; logic meant little as flashbacks of drowning the first time flashed in my head. My chest began to ache as panic consumed me. I had died. Another thought occurred, maybe I never even really woke up and this was all some private hell. The pure helplessness of the situation settled over me. Holding my breath was very ineffectual at the angle my head was being pulled, water went straight up my nose, the barrier of the washcloth doing little to stop it. I coughed and choked and sputtered as I tried to plead with him to make it stop. When John finally pulled the rag free, I coughed up the water, vision blurred, and my teeth began to chatter from the cold.
"Ready to beg now?" Marcus asked sweetly. I nodded, the burst of tears leaving warm trails down my temple. They looked at me with expectant eyes as I struggled to force the words out.
"P-P-Please." Marcus laughed and shook his head.
