“Miss us, Jess?” Vincent murmured, just as I realized I was shut in a room with three fucking clowns.
I might have screamed. I wasn’t entirely sure what noise came out of me as I covered my eyes, shaking my head, determined to imagine that they weren’t really there. Those awful creepy faces, those wide grins, the dark-ringed, skeletal eyes. Manson pulled my hands down and gripped my wrists.
“Oh that’s not very nice, Jess,” he said sweetly. “I couldn’t let them miss out on the fun. Now you can get to know them better."
I held my breath in an effort to stop whimpering. The clowns lingered in the dark, watching me, grinning at each other. My hands were shaking, heart pounding. I wrestled out of Manson’s grip and clung to his shirt, pressing my face against him so I wouldn’t see them.
“Do you want to leave?” he whispered tenderly in my ear. “Or do you want to face your fear and be a good girl for me?”
I forced myself to steady my breathing. These clowns had names, and under that makeup I knew they were human, even though my brain kept insisting they were monsters. I raised my head slowly from Manson’s chest, peering back at them. Their appearance was only made worse by the darkness in the room: the flickering candle flames made their features appear to shift and change in the blink of an eye. One of them - Lucas - was crouched on the ground, eyes fixated on me. Grinning. Standing behind him, Vincent was twirling something around his finger - something metallic that caught the light of the candles and flashed.
Handcuffs?
The pulsating adrenaline that had flooded through me at the sight of them began to calm. With the fading terror came a strange euphoria, pleasure wrapped in discomfort. I slowly raised my eyes to Manson.
“I...I want to be a good girl…” I said softly. Then softer still, "You're so fucking evil, Manson. I like that."
He grinned, and for a moment, I could have sworn he looked proud of me. He kissed my forehead and said, “Be a good angel then: crawl over to them, and offer them your mouth.”
He stepped back, and without the barrier of his body between myself and the clowns, I felt as if I were looking at them down a long and narrow tunnel. I dropped to my knees and shuffled one hand in front of the other as I slowly made my way toward them, torn between not wanting to take my eyes off of them and desperately wanting to look away.
They’re only human, they’re only human.
They towered above me. I forced myself to raise my head and meet their dark eyes as they stared at me from the black pits they’d painted on their faces. My arms shook as I held them out in front of me, wrists together - an offering.
“You’d better lock those on me,” I said tightly, staring at the handcuffs Vincent held. My fight or flight response was strong, making me twitch. Forcing myself to submit, ignoring the instinct, was filling my body with such a rush of chemicals and hormones that it felt like a drug high.
“Such a good girl." Vincent locked the cuffs around my wrists, the cold metal sending goosebumps up my arms. Once they were secured, he held up the tiny silver key in front of my face, and with a sadistic grin, rubbed it between his hands. I frowned, confused - but when he parted his hands, the key was gone. Vanished.
“You’re ours now, little angel,” Jason said, circling me. I glanced back, and saw Manson lounging on the chest at the end of his bed, leaning back, elbows propped up on his mattress.
“Don’t forget your safeword,” he reminded me. “Or three taps on their legs, if your mouth is...occupied.” His gleaming teeth shone in the dark, and Lucas grabbed hold of my face, forcing me to look back at them.
“You look even prettier like this,” he said, his voice raspy as he tried to keep his volume low. He turned my face from side to side, and then I felt hands in my hair, caressing it...hands touching up my back...my neck. I felt like a helpless little doll, chained and obedient, scared but ready to be used.
Lucas’s converse kicked apart my knees, spreading them, and Jason leaned around my side, dark eyes eerily close to my face. He slowly lifted my skirt, before looking around with an exaggerated expression of shock.
"What a naughty angel. Wearing no panties, hmm?"
“Getting scared turns the little angel on,” said Manson. “I have a theory that the more she screams and struggles, the wetter she’ll get.”
I shuddered, the frightening words having exactly the effect I’m sure he expected them to: my clit throbbed, my insides pulsing and clenching with the desire to be filled. A hand gripped around my throat, and Vincent’s face came close to mine as he inhaled deeply along my hair, chuckling in my ear. His black painted lips brushed against my cheek, then down my neck, sending shivers over my skin. Jason came around to stand before me, and Lucas moved back, out of my sight. Somehow, not being able to see them was even worse than having to stare at their creepy clown faces.
Jason unzipped the front of his black jumpsuit, baring his chest, all the way down to his thick, hard cock. Dark, bold tattoos covered him like a canvas. His ringed fingers gripped his member and slowly stroked it, and my eyes were mesmerized by the sight.
“Can I…” My voice shook, forming words almost impossible. “Can I taste...please?”
More laughter from the three of them, laughter that seemed to echo all around me in the dark. Vincent’s hands framed the sides of my face and his fingers pressed along my jaw, tipping my head up and back, holding me in place.
“Open your mouth,” Vincent’s voice hissed in my ear. Another hand gripped my hair, and in the corner of my vision, Lucas leaned down.
“Open wide,” he chuckled. I obeyed, my mouth watering for a taste of that terrifying, thick phallus. Jason entered my mouth, sliding over my tongue, slowly filling my throat as I obediently kept my mouth wide.
“Make him feel good,” Manson ordered, and I closed my lips around Jason’s cock, sucking gently, curling my tongue around his head. Jason groaned and began to thrust into me, hitting the back of my throat. Vincent tightened his grip on my face, holding me still as Jason used my mouth.
“Look up at him, angel,” Vincent whispered, and I did my best to obey, my eyes wide as I stared up at Jason, his teeth bared viciously as his breath began to shudder from the pleasure. Suddenly Lucas released my hair and went to stand beside Jason, unzipping his suit and pulling aside his black briefs. My eyes widened looking at him: his cock was pierced, a curved silver bar fitted through the underside of his head. I’d never seen that before - never even thought someone would do that - and I could scarcely imagine how that would feel inside my throat.
Jason tangled his hand in my hair, fucking into me, hard enough that my eyes filled with tears. Excitement spread through me as his cock throbbed, and Vincent’s hands moved from my face to scratch down my back, leaving behind stinging lines from his nails. He reached my hips, gripped into me, then squeezed my flesh until it hurt and I groaned. My noise pushed Jason over the edge. He pressed deep into my throat, cursing as he came, filling my mouth with his seed.
“Good girl, Jess,” I heard Manson get up from the bed and approach me, his boots clicking on the floor, and a chill went up my spine as his fingers caressed the side of neck. I wasn’t sure how I was certain the touch was Manson's - I just knew. Jason stepped back, steadying himself, and Lucas wasted no time in taking his place. He was rough from the start, pressing deep and hard. The two smooth balls of his piercing pressed against my tongue, and when he reached the back of my throat I gagged, not used to the feeling of metal.