“Press your ass out more,” Stefano ordered. “I want to shove my fingers deeper. Fast or I will add a third.”
Moaning with a hunger I couldn’t understand, I pushed my ass out as I stood awkwardly in the corner.
Stefano pushed his fingers deeper than I thought possible as he nibbled on my neck and sucked on my earlobe. Chills ran down my spine as heat flooded my pussy. He would pull his fingers out only to press them in with more force and deeper than the time before. Over and over until I cried out his name. What I expected to come from it, I had no idea. But I could no longer hold back my sounds of arousal.
“I bet you want my cock inside you right now,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes, sir. I do.”
I was ready.
So, so ready.
He pulled out his fingers and then swatted me on the ass. “That’s enough anal discipline for tonight. Stand in the corner for a few more minutes and think about what will come next. Then go lie down and go to sleep. Be a good girl. We continue with your training tomorrow.”
I heard him walk out the door and didn’t dare look over my shoulder or say a word in protest. I knew cameras were on me, and I would remain in position in the corner and not move an inch until a few minutes were up. I would stand. I would think…
Chapter Nine
Hailey
Again and again, I awoke with a lashing. I went to bed sore from the strike of one of the brothers’ hands on my sensitive ass. I awoke to an excruciating session with the paddle and went to bed with the kiss of their belt once again. Over and over the routine continued. One comfort item at a time.
One excruciatingly earned comfort at a time.
The days were filled with other acts of submission. Long hours kneeling or standing at attention for whenever, wherever, and for however long they felt needed. They touched me, but never enough. And that was the worst part. Over and over they would slap, pinch, touch parts of my body and bring me right to the edge of ecstasy, only to pull away and leave me with the worst need imaginable. Every hour my hunger for both of them grew. Every second my lust intensified. I dreamed of their touch, and I fantasized of the day they would finally put their cocks inside of me.
Together.
At the same time.
But they never did.
That was my punishment.
That was my penance.
And oh, how I paid, suffered, and slowly earned one comfort item that I no longer cared if I received or not at a time. I cried. I pleaded. I begged for more than just a materialistic reward. I had no shame or pride left. I longed for at least one of them to be near and never leave me, and when they did leave for the night, I sobbed for hours waiting for sunlight to come, for it brought the return of one of my monsters.
If Thomas had thought I was broken before, and that I was their naughty girl… I couldn’t imagine what I had become now. My only strength was when they were near. My body craved them like a drug, and I was weak without them.
So fucking weak.
They were my prison guards, and yet, they truly had mastered my body. When they said I was theirs—that my body belonged to them—I’d had no idea how correct they would be.
Stefano.
Thomas.
The Bennato Brothers.
“Are you a good girl or a naughty girl?” Thomas asked as he had grown accustomed to asking all the mornings he arrived in a new crisp suit with an unbuttoned white shirt at the neck. He and his brother looked so much alike and yet, I could easily see their differences. I could tell in seconds who was who without even having to try.
“What do you want me to be?” I answered like I always did right before they would take their belt and run it along my punished and upturned flesh after they spanked me.
“Today I want you to be naughty. I want you to talk dirty to me so I can punish that mouth of yours,” Thomas said.
I turned my head just enough to see him towering over me as I was bent over the bed and gave a wicked smirk. “Fuck you, sir. Fuck you.”
We had played this game in the past. He would force me to act out just so he could punish me more severely. Often times he would have Gio record these acts for Stefano to view later. Neither one of the brothers wanted to miss a moment of my… penance.
Thomas seemed to like it most when I punched or kicked, and especially when I called him names. He seemed fueled by my mock hatred of him, though we both knew it was all for show. He knew how desperate I was for more. He could see the arousal coat my pussy and dampen my inner thighs. He would wipe at my tears of frustration as my stomach tightened and cramped from a growing need for release never to be granted. He would make promises that if I was a good girl, that maybe someday I would get a taste of his cock.