Own My Soul (Sixty Days 3)

Rebecca tried to back away from the guys but they were in a solid triangle around her.

“Be a good girl now,” one of them said and she rocked on her hands and knees for a second before looking back up at him.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

I found myself willing her to stay strong and focused, wanting her to do well to earn her pay day all over again. I wanted her to keep her cool and deliver what was required without losing herself, my breaths speeding up as the guys stepped up closer.

They threw off the shirts from their backs and cast them aside, loosening whatever belts they had in position and tugging out three big hard ons. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as the vocal one of the three pulled his belt free and wrapped it around her neck as some kind of leather dog lead.

She didn’t lose herself when it tightened, stretching her neck and staring up at him like he was some kind of god sent down from heaven, and that’s when another fear hit. The fear that I’d never ever be able to look at any of those guys with the respect I looked up at Brandon with.

Rebecca managed it. She managed it with all three of them, somehow slipping into some kind of submissive state that had her rocking back and forth on all fours with her thighs spread wide.

Even from my position, having seen how scared and upset she’d been the night before, I would never have been able to accurately call out a verdict on whether she really wanted this or not.

The guy fisting his cock nearest to her leaned in close. “Ready, slut?”

The sound of him spitting came loud through the speakers and I flinched.

My head said no. Said there was no way she could want this. But her eyes… her eyes were wide and wanting. Her stance was hungry. Desperate, despite the spit dripping from her face.

Her nipples were hard and straining for touch. She was grinding her hips in the air like she really wanted one of them inside her. Like a switch had gone off in her head and she was suddenly oh so willing.

Mr Sin must have read my mind.

“Oh, the girl enjoys it,” he told me. “That’s the beauty about giving yourself over to such extreme sensations. Your body learns the rota if your brain doesn’t. Your body craves what your head curses.” His laugh was cold. “Happens across all aspects of life, of course.”

I didn’t have anything to say, so I didn’t speak, just kept my eyes burning hard on Rebecca’s expression as two of the guys climbed up on the mattress alongside her.

They were rough. Really rough. All hands and pinches as they forced her down to take one dick in her throat after another. Her coughs and splutters were loud over the speakers. The glisten from her dribble and drool was bright under the lighting above her as it trailed down to her bobbing tits.

This wasn’t like Brandon’s place.

There wasn’t the same atmosphere or tension or skill as these guys wrestled her back and forth and jammed their cocks inside her one after the other.

They hurt her, but it was hard slaps on skin. Hard pinches on muscle. They spat in her face and she groaned for more, but it wasn’t as harsh and slick as anything Brandon Grant would do in their position.

They shackled her tight and forced their fingers so deep inside her that she cried out in pain. They stretched her with toys without lube that saw her squirm and beg for less, though they didn’t listen. They licked her clit until her body betrayed her, her begs changing to cries for more, more, always more.

And then, when she was battered and fucked, they strung her into shackles from the ceiling and pulled out a rack of implements like the one I’d seen Brandon use.

“Gonna take your fucking punishment like a good girl now,” that same idiot guy said again, and once again Rebecca nodded and begged and said thanks to him. Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir. Yes, please, I’ll be a good girl, thank you, sir!

And she was a good girl.

She took what she was given. She took it hard. A long whip which saw savage red lines across her back. Bruises sure to bloom on top of bruises. A crop type thing which had her thighs raw and trembling as they lashed her.

One of them was fucking her from behind, his hand tight around her throat as his hips thrust hard, and the other two took turns raining blows on her poor tits. They were pink, rippled, her eyes closed tight as she took it all.

Thank you, sirs, thank you!

I should have felt the similarity. Dungeon. Whips and crops and floggers. Begging and pleas and groans.