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toxicanonymity · 4 months ago

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the green

WC: 2.4k... I guess to find a scene, I had to find a world, then I didn't want to trim the fat because I liked it 😔

PAIRING: Ezra x f!reader; ft. others.

A/N: For @iamasaddie's writing challenge 4.0. I got Ezra: Aquarius, (i decided dark) Rave AU. Some of you write Ezra dialogue so well and true to character. That is not my forte and I didn't force it, but he speaks differently than others.

WARNINGS (not exhaustive, read at your own discretion): I8+ stefon voice: "this club has everything." drugs, surrealism, dark atmosphere*, sex cult vibes, public nudity, jacking off, manhandling, cumshot (dubcon), slapping, choking, spitting. Infidelity. You have a daddy. *I'd say "mild" horror but there's a mummified body in passing. A few cameos. It gets weird. unrefined chaos.

FIC ART: Amazing visual by @aurorawritestoescape

Drawing by @romana-after-dark

The Green was the one place your daddy explicitly forbade you from going. He never said why, but you assumed because the club entrance was down in the catacombs.

There were countless urban legends of doped up partiers getting lost, only to be found years later. One was discovered in a remote ossuary curled up with a faded can of New Coke. A picture had circulated – The poor soul’s shrunken legs were bent, knees drawn to their chest, yellow leggings stiffened and soiled under a pink leotard which by then fit like a paper bag.

—

When your friend said that’s where you were headed one night, you tried to convince her into going anywhere else. The problem was, she was obsessed with a DJ at the Green.

“I don’t get it,” she protested. “I know it’s not because you’re scared.”

“I just can't,” you pleaded futilely, and then she caught on when you wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Her jaw clenched, and her nostrils flared. “Let me guess,” she spat. “Because you’re letting a married man control your life.”

“Come on,” you pleaded.

“Billy may be a slut, but he's not married,” she bragged of the DJ.

. . .

An hour later, you and your friend were both high, dancing near the front of the crowd. In the humidity, you took off your bra, leaving a snug, mesh crop top and leather miniskirt. By then about 10% of the crowd was nude or close to it.

A song faded out, and a dense fog began to billow into the crowd. The fog smelled thickly of vegetation and masked some of the body odor you had been inhaling all night. The crowd quietly murmured, and with a few scattered whistles of enthusiasm.

As the fog settled, Billy the DJ put on a soothing binaural beat and introduced his mate, Ezra. As the crowd whistles and cheered, Billy hopped down from the booth and made a bee-line for your friend.

“There she is,” he murmured into her neck and wrapped his arms around her. “Is your friend joining us?”

“No,” she answered without looking at you. “Her daddy wouldn't like that.”

“Oh,” Billy looked you up and down, impressed. “Tell me ‘bout that later, love?” Billy winked at you as she dragged him away, leaving you alone.

–

Ezra stepped onto the stage and commenced with. . . spoken word poetry.

You didn't have the presence of mind for it, but the crowd was captivated. They knew him. As he droned on, some of them dropped to their knees, including a tattooed young man next to you in nothing but a sweatband. On the floor, he bent forward in child’s pose, arms stretched toward Ezra as though in worship. Through the remaining fog, the man’s glow-in-the-dark butt plug caught your eye.

Ezra had a mesmerizing voice. “Yes,” he echoed over the beat, and you found yourself tuning in. “Yes, feel my tongue penetrate you. Feel my words inside you!” You felt him opening something in your chest.

You scanned the crowd. The effect he had on these people was — The back of your neck prickled, and your exposed nipples hardened.

And then, you felt eyes on you. Not just anyone's. Your breath hitched. In the corner of your eye, Ezra was looking right at you. His voice became more tranquil: “I am already inside you.” A zing of pleasure shot through your chest, and a tingling heat spread through your loins. “Be not afraid,” he cooed. “Look at me while I penetrate you.” Your knees felt weak with need. You slowly looked up at him. He was sweating profusely through a worn, gray T-shirt and tactical pants. He dabbed his forehead with his wrist and ran his fingers through a shock of white hair. “yes,” he nodded, not taking his eyes off you. “Let me in deeper, little bird.”

“Let him in,” a few people murmured.

Ezra nodded, and his eyes sparkled as they briefly surveyed the crowd before coming back to you. He allowed a moment of silence, and over the beat, you could hear scattered moans. In your peripheral vision, the guy with the glow-in-the-dark butt plug was sucking cock while jerking himself off.

“Eyes on your god,” Ezra sharply demanded, and your face heated up as your gaze snapped back to him. Your eyes connected and locked together. It felt like you knew him. Like he knew you. You knew each other. You had to.

Ezra wet his lips, and everyone watched as he began to rub himself through his pants, looking right at you. Your eyelashes fluttered at the sight. His presence seized your whole body. Your breaths were shallow. The low beat thumped and hummed, with you in the tightening grip of his gaze.

From behind, you felt the wind of a stranger’s breath on your ear. “it’s okay,” she reassured you. “I’m gonna hold you for him,” the stranger slotted her hands under your arms.

“All over you,” Ezra continued, “the hands of my words, sliding over your skin.” He breathed heavily over the beat. You felt him. Pressure swelled in your depths, and you could hardly keep your eyes open. “Your god’s tongue, tasting the salt of your neck.” You really felt him. Your lips parted, and your clit twitched. “Yes,” Ezra nodded as he slowly rubbed himself, and the thick outline in his pants made you squeeze your thighs. Your body went nearly limp for Ezra's voice, and the stranger held you with your back against her chest. You could feel her nipples through the mesh of your top.

Ezra continued, “Your god’s cock, in the cunt of your soul.” And oh, you felt it deep. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and the crowd cheered and pleaded, “yes, Ezra,” “please, God.” He held his cock in his hand, shapely and majestic.

Desire flooded your body, buzzing and throbbing with the beat of his obscenity. Your mind was full of him and so was your body, it felt. You had room for nothing else. Someone stepped toward the stage, and Ezra let them spit on his dick.

The stranger holding you pushed you forward, bringing you closer to Ezra. Ezra pointed at you with his free hand. As you arrived at the stage, a familiar darkness fell over his eyes, and your heart skipped a beat at the weight of recognition.

You snapped out of the spell. There was something off about this, something wrong about him.

He had someone else's face.

Someone you loved.

Your stomach turned as you stood there beneath Ezra, and he pumped his cock, with the crowd cheering him on. His eyes froze you in place. You willed yourself to move, as though stuck in a nightmare. It was just a bad trip, you told yourself. This wasn't real. It was the drugs.

“It's okay,” the stranger reassured you, and somehow, it helped you breathe easier.

Ezra breathed heavier, and his hungry eyes settled on your chest, making your nipples harden nearly to the point of pain. Goosebumps erupted from your chest and spread over your body.

“The seed of your god,” he panted, chest heaving.

“The seed of our god,” a few voices echoed.

Ezra bit his bottom lip and stroked himself faster.

“Especially for you,” Ezra spoke the words right into your soul, and your body throbbed out of control.

If it was a nightmare, if it was the drugs, you had nothing to lose by surrendering yourself to pleasure.

“Open your mouth,” the stranger urged you. And you did. You opened your mouth and closed your eyes. Ezra's sounds of pleasure became more pronounced. You couldn't be sure how long you stood there with your mouth open. The sound of Ezra growing ever closer to climax had you drawing in a deep breath through your nose and shuddering.

Soon, you smelled his musk and felt the humidity of his loins near your face. He groaned, and a thick rope hit the back of your throat. The warmth and tang of it was too much to bear. You squeezed your eyes tighter shut and saw stars. As your body spasmed, the stranger tried to hold you steady, but the cum that followed went all over your face and chest.

“Good,” Ezra praised when he finished emptying himself onto you. “Good,” he repeated.

The crowd cheered.

You opened your eyes and your body cooled with a wave of guilt. This is what Daddy wanted to protect you from. The spell of another man who bore a striking resemblance to him. You weren't yourself, it was the drugs, you repeated in your mind.

“You okay?” The stranger asked and you nodded.

“Now let them feast,” Ezra concluded and stepped down off the stage, his dick tucked away but his pants unbuttoned. People reached out to touch him as he came through the crowd but kept enough distance that he proceeded coolly, slowly toward the cave entrance.

Soon, you had hands all over you, too. Hands and tongues. People swiping at your skin, licking your face, desperate for a taste of him. You shut your eyes as they drew aftershocks of pleasure from your depths. After a minute, the stranger shooed them away. “Congratulations,” she said, and let you stand on your own.

Meanwhile, Billy and your friend had returned for him to resume his DJ duties. Your friend was dumbstruck by the scene. Billy looked more impressed. “Your first night? Alright, wow,” Billy marveled. “You must be special, love.”

It wasn't lost on you how this annoyed your friend. You pushed past both of them without a word and spotted Ezra's silhouette against the cave wall.

—

Ezra was uncharacteristically silent as you approached, simply taking in the vision of you, disheveled from the touch of strangers, unraveled from his words. He looked pleased with himself.

As you opened your mouth to speak, you hesitated, unsure you wanted to know the answer to your question, or how real this was. You asked him anyway, “What's your last name?” and your heart raced in anticipation.

“I don't have a last name,” he claimed.

“Bullshit. Is it York?”

Ezra drew in a deep breath through his nose and observed your face. “Mmm.” He glanced at the ceiling with a chuckle. “Well heavens, little bird.” His eyes turned regretful. “I surmise you belong to a particular agent of the federal variety.” He raised his eyebrows. “And if my calculation is correct, I sincerely–”

“--Apologize,” A handsome black man with short, greying hair interrupted. In an exaggerated motion, the man pulled up his sleeve to look at his watch. “A little late,” he stated with a glare, punctuated by a pout and raise of his eyebrows. Then, his hand engulfed Ezra’s neck with startling speed and precision. Ezra choked, and the man calmly held firm, beginning to explain, “In approximately 30 seconds, the blood flow to your–”

A different man snatched you by the arm from behind. The grip of his large hand was a familiar, painful comfort. You could feel the bruises forming on your bicep as he physically dragged you away.

“Daddy,” you whimpered. “I'm sorry, I–”

Mr. York didn't speak a word to you until he had you well into the catacombs, away from the club. You could only faintly hear the music start up again. He put you against a cold, rough wall, rolled up the sleeves of his powder blue button-down, and put his hands on his knees as he looked you in the face. His gaze was soft but ominous. It unsettled you.

“I'm sorry, daddy,” tears welled up in your eyes.

Still nothing from him.

His nostrils flared with a deep breath. You'd prefer if he yelled at you, smacked you around. As though reading your tears, he slapped you across the face. Your hand flew up to your cheek instinctively but he swatted it away and simply looked at you as the sting faded. He didn't have to ask the question: What the hell were you doing there?

“I didn't want to come,” you cried. “I didn't wanna–”

“You shouldn't be here,” he stated firmly, and you nodded.

“I know, you said not to come, didn't know it was cause, I didn't know about–”

“Who knows best?” He asked.

“Daddy,” you answered earnestly, “Daddy always does.”

He gave a short nod, then grabbed your jaw and studied each of your eyes. “High off your ass,” he grumbled. Then he sniffed the air. Still firmly holding your jaw, he brought his nose to your cheek, then dragged it down to your neck. There was nothing like your daddy’s touch, even when he was mad. Sometimes especially if he was mad.

He growled and stood upright, bringing his other hand to your neck so he had one hand on your jaw and the other firmly but gently on your throat. He demanded, “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing, he–”

He slightly pressed his finger and thumb into the sides of your neck as a warning, then released them.

“He masturbated and–”

“Did he touch you?”

“No.”

Your daddy brought his face almost to yours, just far enough away to still look in your eyes. When he seemed satisfied that he had the truth, he squeezed your jaw and said, “open.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and opened your mouth. He spat on your tongue and you swallowed it gratefully. His hands released you and he cupped your cheek for a moment before looking back behind himself, getting ready to leave.

“I'm sorry,” you repeated.

“McCall will take care of him,” he muttered.

He pulled you off the wall and led you out of the caves with a firm grip on the back of your neck.

–

In the back of the SUV, Mr. York was sitting on the driver's side, and you were face down sprawled across the whole bench seat. You put your head on his lap, facing his crotch. He laid a hand on your forehead for a minute, but you kept crying and rubbing your face on his pants, and he was tired. He stared out the window, despite that your microskirt had ridden up to where your ass was half covered. “Daddy,” you whined.

“Stop,” he commanded with a spank. Then he squeezed his hand between your legs and your thighs opened for him. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his middle finger into your cunt. “Be quiet.” He wedged his other hand under your cheek and fed you his thumb. He closed his eyes and held you still.

For the rest of the ride, you laid still and drifted off with his finger inside you and his thumb between your lips.

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Thank you for reading 💚

#ezra x reader #iamasaddie game #writing challenge 4.0 #ezra prospect #toxicanonymity ☠️#cw infidelity #cw drugs #cw dubcon #cw horror #dave york #dark fic #dark!ezra #writing challenge 4.0 team #pedro pascal x reader

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throneofsapphics · 1 month ago

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against the contract, chapter three

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare

warnings: d/s dynamics, guided masturbation, nightmares

word count: 2330

a/n: if anyone wants on the taglist please let me know!

<<< prev. chapter | series masterlist | next chapter >>> (coming 10/15)

That night, you laid up in bed, daydreaming about earlier that day, about the future, about them when the call came through. Your throat closed as you read the caller ID. Had you been sold out?

A shaky thumb hit the green accept button, convinced your neighbors could hear your heart thundering.

”Hey babes,” you put on your best cheery voice.

”Hi gorgeous,” she said with her signature sigh, as if everything was an inconvenience. “How are you?”

It sounded like genuine care in her voice, but you knew better. Knew what it meant when she dragged out the last syllable in a sentence. Genuine care meant she would’ve truly been there for you when ... you shook your head at the memories, refocusing on the conversation. You could play the game, if only to delay whatever news she was bringing.

“Great,” you replied. Because you were, truly. Besides this call, you felt fucking fantastic. Several more minutes of small talk passed, and you knew something was up. Her answers grew shorter, words sharpening into knives.

”What is it, Ianthe?” You finally asked.

”I'm calling in your favor,” the voice on the other end of the phone wasn't your childhood best friend anymore. She was all business.

Three days later, back in their house - if you could call something this large a house - you knelt on a cushion and thought about the package and message you'd received the night before. The contents quickly made it clear exactly who it came from.

Folded neatly, the small piece of paper contained a handwritten note.

Tomorrow, as soon as you step through the door you'll be in scene. Kneel to the left of the door, there will be a cushion waiting for you. Wear your gift.

Looking forward to seeing you xx

You figured it was Feyre, Azriel and Rhysand didn’t seem the type to leave kisses at the end of a note.

A black box with a silver ribbon, tied better than you could've done yourself. Inside was a butt plug, complete with a sapphire gem at the end, one you suspected might be real. You'd inspected it enough to know there was no remote control to turn on randomly, it was a pure and simple mark of ownership. You and your body liked the idea more than you should've. This was temporary, after all.

A text message from an unknown number had come through two minutes later.

It's Feyre, save my number. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!

Three pairs of feet, walking nearly in unison interrupted your train of thought.

”Right,” Rhysand tilted your chin up, mouth indenting at one corner, smiling the way rich people do. “Get yourself off for us, darling.”

The flush of your cheeks was pure gold to him. He wanted to strip you down to your barest layers, push you to your limits, and leave you with his mark. Since you'd signed the contract, they'd done enough research to make any spy blush. He'd figured out you had a track history of being watched, but only with others touching you, never anything with you touching yourself. Where there was a gap, Rhysand usually found something to exploit.

It wasn't hesitation, but a moment to process, he could tell the difference. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as trembling fingers reached down between your legs. Concentrated effort kept his own eyes from rolling back as yours did. Feyre didn't have his same control, a breathy sound escaping her lips.

Azriel, on his right, had his arms crossed, expression neutral. Rhys was half tempted to have all three of them kneeling, but this was about you right now.

”It's not going to work,” you said after a little while, hand pausing. “It never does.”

Rhys glanced at Feyre, she nodded.

Feyre circled and crouched behind you, not touching but hovering enough that if you shifted your body weight you would collapse into her. Lips just a hair's breadth away from your ear, Rhys couldn't hear what she was saying but watched the fruits of it. You tugged at one nipple with two fingers, rolling it back and forth, your other index finger stroking your clit more firmly this time.

With Feyre's words, Rhys watched your movements grow more confident

Rhys watched as your head fell back, the elegant arch of your neck showing, Azriel going very still next to him, one of the man's only tells.

Legs tensed, your hand slipped from your nipple to slap against the stone tile, your back arching.

This, Rhys knew in that moment, was going to work beautifully.

After that first scene, they took you on a tour of the manor, this time showing you more of the rooms as you struggled to commit them all the memory. It would take time for you to learn your way around this place, especially the grounds. Feyre mentioned she’d give you a tour of them tomorrow.

You met them for a perfectly normal dinner, where they’d discussed a few more details.

“We ask that you do not wander the grounds alone at night, our security detail doesn’t know you yet ...” Rhys let the end of his words drift off, and you understood the implication. Here, you didn’t want to be treated as an intruder.

“I won’t wander the grounds at night,” you confirmed.

Rhys’s grin seemed a little easy, as if it was designed to put people at ease. It worked on you.

You’d thought there would be something else to the night, especially considering how much they were paying for you to be there but that had been it. Looking at the giant, ridiculously comfortable bed in front of you, it was all too easy to dive right into it, burrow yourself up, and collapse into sleep. Another day, you’d think your way out of the situation Ianthe put you in.

“I never loved you. You were a burden I didn’t need at the worst time in my life,” she sneered at you, hands braced on her hips in that very mom-like way.

“Mom,” you - squeaked? Glancing in the mirror behind her, you couldn’t be more than ten years old. She’d always loved you, it had always been the two of you against the world. Why would she do this to you now?

“Get out,” her voice grew deeper, her face transformed. White stones - no, teeth - clattered to the floor from an open maw. Drop. Drop. Drop. Eyes turned black, and sticks reappeared where her teeth had been. “Leave. Out. Out. Out.” The last word broke through in her natural voice, cerulean blue flashing where black had been, a pleading and broken look. “While you still can,” the demon that had taken over her whispered in a sing-song voice. A door locked behind you and it tutted. “Too late.”

You shot up in your - where the hell were you?

Glancing around, you familiarized yourself. Elegant canopy. Black walnut furniture

Right. Contract.

The recurring nightmare had disappeared for the last few months, but you supposed a change in scenery could bring it back. Nothing strange, nothing abnormal, you chanted to yourself silently.

A look at your side table told you your glass of water was empty.

Earlier, they didn’t say anything against wandering the halls at night.

Wrapping a silk robe around you, a gift from them, you tiptoed out of your room, the cold tile soothing against your bare feet. You’d woken up in a sweat, you realized. Unsurprising.

A giggle escaped you, what would they say if they saw you wandering the halls naked at night? Probably send you back home, you sobered. That’s not what you wanted. Letting the moonlight drifting through the large windows guide you, you trailed a hand along the walls.

Gorgeous. Beautiful. Serene.

It was like that here in daytime, but you thought the night tended to bring out a special breed of person, yourself included in that category.

You made it to the kitchen without seeing a soul, one hand firmly clutched around your glass.

After you’d filled it nearly to the top, you slowly turned and spilled half of it on you at the sight.

Azriel, in the doorway, looking like a shadow of death

“Am I breaking a rule?” You tilted your head. A genuine question, not sass. At least you hoped it came across that way.

”Not technically,” Azriel muttered, “just common sense.” The words would have stung if you hadn't seen how his mouth briefly curved up at one corner, a slight squint at the corner of his eyes. Sarcasm, or amusement. Maybe something about the night took away some of his stoicism.

He stalked across the space, his form crowding yours as he plucked the glass from your hand, shifting behind you and dumping it down the -

“What are you doing?” You squeaked.

“We have filtered water,” he lifted it above your head when you tried to grab it from him.

“Sink is fine,” you insisted.

He ignored you and made his way to the fridge instead, placing the glass on a small shelf, and pressing a button.

“I’ll take you back,” he said once he finished filling it.

“Okay,” you trailed him cautiously.

You could’ve done all of this on your own, and might have snapped back at him for it another time but you didn't want to push too far. If anything, you knew the least about him.

“Why are you awake?” He asked, and it felt wrong to lie to him.

“A nightmare,” you settled for the simple explanation instead.

“A nightmare,” he echoed. “I get those sometimes.”

It surprised you to hear him share something so ... personal with you, but you wouldn’t take it for granted. It made you want to share with him.

“It was about -”

You stopped. No. That was too personal. Too much. The only living person who knew about it was currently trying to turn your life into a nightmare.

He shot a curious glance your way, but didn’t push you any further on the subject. Why did you want him to?

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh @rosecobollway @glittervame @tele86 @randomgurl2326 @bookwormysblog @sidthedollface2 @scarsandallaz @therealmoonstone @grapeflavoredwater @fhgsvbnh @sfhsgrad-blog @julesvanslutta

acotar taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @i-am-a-lost-girl16

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze @littlest-w01f

#feysandriel x reader #poly!feysandriel x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #feyre archeron x reader #acotar fic #acotar x reader #kinktober 2024 #acotar smut

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lilysqueaks · 1 month ago

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WHAT just happened? 😵‍💫

First got hypnotically triggered by @biboykissergirl to put in my butt plug without remembering it and without realizing it being there, and then sending the Lovense link to Lumi (@greenpanties), who forwarded it to @biboykissergirl.

When i was done, she triggered me again and gave me the suggestion to want to suck off Lumi, again without remembering being triggered to do so.

The plan was for her to remote control the butt plug during the blow job, but apparently it didn't work for some reason.

After Lumi shot their cum down my throat, and us cuddling for a while i checked my phone just to see the Lovense app being open, and a remote session trying to be set up.

So i recalled with Lumi about what just happened.

After internalizing that this had actually just happened, i gave the Lovense setup another try myself. This time it worked, and @biboykissergirl remote controlled the butt plug, while Lumi was teasing my nipples, and recording audio messages of my moans.

Holy fuck... uhhh... i think i'm more suggestible than i assumed. 😵‍💫

Everything was done fully consensually, and boundaries were discussed beforehand!

#lily squeaks #hypnok1nk #hypno k1nk #hypno pet #hypnosub #hypno sub #hypnoslut #hypnosis #bd/sm relationship #buttslut #blowjov

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sniffthebondagefootpig · 1 year ago

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Still helplessly sleepsacked with belts added and a remote controlled vibrating butt plug in and he took off his smelly socks for a proper barefoot worshipping

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st0neymal0neyx0 · 9 months ago

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Have you ever gone to work with a sex toy in? Butt plug, jiggle balls etc…

I’ve had a butt plug in and a remote controlled vibe and I served customers while someone controlled it and it was the best 🥰

#asks

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fayes-fics · 2 years ago

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Today’s Lesson

Lessons Series Masterpost

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (threesome), Modern AU

Summary: Modern AU, it's playtime with the oldest Bridgerton boys...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, threesome, d/s relationships, sub!reader, dom!Bridgertons, remote vibrator, public orgasm, slight exhibitionism, sensory deprivation (blindfolds), dirty talk, hair pulling, oral sex (f to m, m to f), deepthroat, anal play (butt plugs), fingering, spanking, impact play (leather belt), bondage/frog-tie restraints, vaginal sex, squirting, anal sex. No incest.

Word Count: 8.3 k

Authors Note: Dedicated, as all Lessons fics are, to the lovely Emmy @iboopedyournose. Peeps, this is pretty full-on. Please heed the warnings, and if you don’t like them, don’t read it!! I mean it, this is NOT vanilla romantic sex. Thank you to @makaylan for the read through. For those of you willing to read, I hope you enjoy. Happy New Year! <3

You are sitting in a booth at a very upscale, atmospherically-lit restaurant and trying to act normal. Anthony is really not making it easy. You requested this, a night where he pushes your limits; teaches you new things about pleasure and submission, but if this is just the start, you may not survive the evening.

“How’s that, my girl?” He whispers duskily, leaning in, his warm lips on the shell of your ear.

“It’s just about bearable, my lord,” you reply honestly through gritted teeth, trying to keep your breathing even, fingers gripping your cocktail glass, gazing out of the window at the skyline of London twinkling beautifully.

He hums thoughtfully, then idly flicks a setting on his phone screen. You silently gasp and shift as subtly as you can on the leather bench seat as he smirks at you.

“And how about now?” His voice carries a little menace.

“My lord,” you grab the meat of his thigh under the table and breathe heavily, desperately trying not to give anything away to your fellow diners in this very fancy restaurant.

“Oh, that’s the setting we want,” he chuckles.

“Please turn it down, my lord, by god,” you beseech, fighting every reaction in your body.

“No,” he says gruffly.

“But my lord….” you protest.

“You asked for this,” he reminds, taking a bite of his dinner.

“Please…” it’s a pleading, acute sound.

“No. Now you will come in public. Silently.” His voice edged with flintiness. You also asked him to argue back if you resisted, just like he is. Regret is a bitch.

You bite your lip and fight the quaking in your body as you hurtle fast towards a climax. The remote vibe is right against your clit, buzzing insistently but silently. Intense pulses of pressure he is controlling using the app on his phone. As agreed, you are forbidden from touching yourself or moving the toy in any way.

All of your body feels on fire, and you have to bend your head so your face is unseen by the other diners as the waves of pleasure take over your body. This is the best kind of torture. Just before you break, you grab his hand on the seat and lace your fingers in his, squeezing his hand so tight and puffing breaths over your breastbone. Your core clenches hard as a shudder wracks your whole frame. You scream behind your lips clamped tightly shut, but the only audible sound emitted is a series of long needy whimpers.

He leans in and kisses your hairline before finally giving you a reprieve and turning it off. “Well done, my beautiful darling girl, that was spectacular��.

——

“How was dinner?” Benedict greets as he takes your coat, ever the chivalrous gentleman.

Anthony drove you back to his penthouse, promising you a memorable night; he wasn't lying. You are thrilled when Benedict opens the front door. Time alone with either of these brothers is wonderful, but the sessions the three of you have together are always fantastic.

“Stimulating,” Anthony replies on your behalf with a chuckle.

“I wish you were there, sir,” you sigh and twine your arms around Benedict, perhaps to make Anthony a touch jealous. “My lord was so mean,” you stick your tongue out at Anthony over your shoulder, then curl into Benedict’s embrace.

“Just a little remote vibe,” Anthony offers by way of casual explanation, waving his phone, “nothing she can’t handle.”

Benedict smiles, kissing your cheek. “Oh my girl, then you got off lightly,” he opines, grabbing the back of your head with his large hand, his lips brushing your ear. “If it were me, I’d have plugged your beautiful little bottom, too,” he murmurs. You clench at the thought.

“Will you do that for me tonight?” You whisper before you know what you’ve said, hands gripping his shirt.

Benedict growls a little. “Fuck yes, I will.”

“Thank you, sir,” you sway in his arms for a moment, then allow yourself to be pulled away by Anthony.

With a firm hand on your lower back, Anthony walks you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beauty of London at night, right on the Thames. Crowding into your rear, he pulls your head back onto his shoulder and twists your head slightly, drawing you into a possessive, exhilarating kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting.

“Hands on the glass, my girl,” he orders, pulling away, and you heed the instruction, placing your hands at shoulder height. “A little higher, stand closer,” he adds; you shift as requested.

You feel his hand run up your back to your shoulder and then trace back down to your bottom. “You seemed to enjoy coming in public earlier,” he opines. “How about I fuck you right here against the glass? Anyone could look up and see you.”

“Yes, please, my lord,” you respond eagerly. Again he pulls you back, and his lips cover yours in a deep kiss.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought, you little exhibitionist,” he smirks right next to your mouth.

His fingers find your dress zip that runs the length of the garment. Slowly he pulls it down, the sound seeming so loud in the quiet apartment. You can see Benedict observing in the reflection of the window, casually leaning on a pillar. You always like to make eye contact with the other brother if one is with you. You see him wink, and you smile demurely back in the window.

Anthony bends slightly to unhook the end of the zip and pushes the dress forward, so your back is exposed. He runs a knuckle down your spine slowly from your neck to your underwear, making all your flesh goose pimple, grabbing a handful of your bum cheek.

“You always look so fuckable, my girl, he sighs as he releases his hold. “Now bend forward. Face on the glass. Lose the dress.”

You do as told, shuffling your legs wider and resting your temple on the cool glass. The lacy underwear between your legs is on display to them; a little flash of purple silicon is visible through the pattern.

“See, brother, she’s still wearing the vibe. I took pity on her and turned it off for the ride back, but now we are here; I’m feeling a little devilish again.” Anthony idly unlocks his phone, and with a flick of a finger, it starts up again. You immediately whine and puff condensation onto the glass. It’s the lowest setting, just a tickle. “That stays on, my girl until we remove your underwear.”

You quiver quietly, snagging your lower lip with your tooth, hoping he won’t turn it up too much more, the tickling motion already making your blood run hot. Watching out of the corner of your eye, he pulls off his jacket and unloops his tie, a simple, elegant black silk one that contrasts his crisp white shirt, of which he undoes the top buttons.

“Shoes off, my girl,” he orders quietly, and you do so, pushing away your dress and shoes into a corner with your foot. “Face and hands back on the glass, please.” Again, you do as requested. “Now look down. Do you see any people down there, my girl?”

“Yes, my lord, I see a group of three men on the Thames Path,” you answer. They appear to be walking, slightly inebriated, leaning on each other. You quickly scan for others but see none.

“Are they looking up at you?” He queries, his fingertips drawing swirling patterns on your lower back that feel distractingly wonderful.

“No, my lord.”

“Bang on the glass,” he demands.

Butterflies roar in your stomach. “My lord?” you question.

“Do it, or I will,” he warns with a touch of menace.

So you use the heel of your hand to bang on the glass. The men don't look up. You try again—nothing.

“Oh, that’s right,” he barks a laugh, “I forgot this is soundproof glass. What a pity no one will hear your pretty screams either. Well, maybe they will look up anyway. It would be a shame to miss such a beautiful sight after all.”

His hand trails back up towards your neck and grab a fistful of your hair.

“On your knees,” he commands.

Oh yes. Your heartbeat spikes, and you gush all over the vibe as you pull your face away from the window and drop to kneeling, hands audibly smearing down the pristine glass as you do so, loving when he takes command like this.

“Good girl,” he compliments as his grip on your hair releases. “I’m going to blindfold you now,” he explains, and you nod—always something you’d agree to.

He takes his soft silky tie and wraps it over your eyes; your other senses instantly heighten as your vision blacks out.

“Mmm, that’s perfect,” Anthony purrs. “Now crawl to your sir. I want you to come with him in your mouth.”

“Not you, my lord?” you frown.

“No, my girl, you have spent most of the evening with me, and there will be plenty with me later.”

You inhale deeply, immediately turn around onto all fours, and begin crawling.

“Where is he, my lord? Is this the right direction?” you inquire.

“I’ll direct you with this,” his voice laces with entertainment as he turns up the vibe, and you instantly moan, knees scrambling slightly on the smooth, heated marble floor.

“That, my girl, means move forward,” he instructs.

You crawl a few paces forward, gasping slightly at the increased sensation. Suddenly you feel the buzz move to the left side of your clit only.

“Does that mean I turn left, my lord?”

“Clever girl,” he compliments lowly.

You turn to your left and begin crawling again, feeling your knees sink into a luxurious rug. You must be near the seating area now. The buzzing returns to your centre as you keep moving forward. Then suddenly, it swings to your right, and you follow. Edging your way around what you assume, from memory, is his coffee table.

“You are doing so well, my girl,” you hear Anthony call, but he seems far away. It appears he didn’t follow you; he’s merely directing you. The vibe buzzes insistently over your centre, and you crawl forwards again.

You smell Benedict’s familiar cologne before you feel his legs in front of you. He must be sitting on the sofa. You lift your hand and reach forward, connecting with one of his knees. You hear a creak as he leans forward, and then there is a hot breath over your cheek.

“Well done, my girl, you look beautiful on your hands and knees,” he whispers as you feel the vibe turn back down to its lowest setting.

“Thank you, sir,” you bask in the compliment.

“Now, what are you here to do?” his voice light and teasing.

“I’m here to do whatever you want, sir, but my lord said I should take you into my mouth.”

“And you wouldn’t want to disappoint him now, would you?”

“No sir, never.”

“Then I think you should obey,” he opines, as If he isn't the beneficiary of such actions.

He smiles unseen by you, hooking a thumb slightly into the corner of your mouth. “Are you okay with me testing your limits today?”

“Green, sir,” you respond as his thumb pulls away.

He nods and sits back, so you run your hands up his thighs, finding his fly button, flicking it open, and pulling down the zip. As is often the case when you play, he isn’t wearing underwear. You immediately feel the warmth of his skin, and when you grab his cock with your hands and gently squeeze, he gets fully hard. You always love how responsive he is. He groans as you lick a hot stripe up the underside. Pausing to tongue his frenulum, then take him into your mouth. You always enjoy sucking his cock because he is so damn vocal and alive, hands scrabbling, voice needy. Taking a deep breath, you push down onto him. And just like every time - every time - he moans your name and shifts in the chair.

“Ready?” his voice almost soft.

You tap twice on his leg, the agreed signal for yes, and suddenly both his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down, so your nose sinks into his trimmed pubic hair. He hisses his approval, and you know his eyes are screwed shut in ecstasy just from the way he slumps back, his head likely rolling onto the back of the sofa.

Suddenly the vibe springs to life, and the jolt makes you startle as you are pinned down on him. You make a noise in surprise, and the vibration of it just encourages him, lifting his hips a little and surging deeper. Your eyes lashes catch on your blindfold as you blink away the drops watering from your eyes.

“Oh my girl, stay down,” he groans.

The vibe roars harder as he pulls you off with a harsh grip on the tie knot at the back of your head. You gulp some gasping breaths, moaning.

“Is that little vibe on?” He questions.

“Yes sir, oh god, it’s so strong,” you croak.

“Good,” he clips.

And with that, he pushes you back down, sliding deep again. Your clit pulses and begins to ache under Anthony’s remote assault.

“Turn it up more,” Benedict voices, presumably at Anthony, his hand twirling in your hair, gripping a handful.

You hear a chuckle from across the room, and then you want to scream as the vibration morphs into strong, pulsing waves. Your hips cant up against nothing as you fight the white-hot pulsing heat around your clit. All the while, you fight to breathe with your throat stretched tight around Benedict’s cock.

“Oh god, I love seeing you like this,” Benedict confesses, watching your hips move, his fingers tracing the tears down your face as they seep under your blindfold, and you drool around him. “You look so fucking beautiful, eyes watering and gyrating.”

Sometimes this is precisely what you want: to be treated a little rough and have your limits pushed. It’s like they sense you want something very primal tonight. You have your safety word and action, which you can use at any time, but you don’t want to. You want this. He pulls you up again, and you shudder deep breaths. Using the tie blindfold, he tilts your head up, and you sense him leaning forward. He chastely kisses your cheek, then calls across the room.

“Brother, bring Pandora’s Box, will you?”

Oh. The box. Pandora’s box, you know it so well. It’s a small wooden chest where the boys keep their toys. Or rather, the toys they use on you.

“What are you going to do, sir?” you ask breathily.

“You’ll see,” he says cryptically, his hand wrapping around behind you, grabbing your left butt cheek and spanking it hard. You groan and slump onto his shoulder, kissing his neck, enjoying the feel of his skin on your lips as you hear Anthony approaching to your right and the metallic sound of hinges on the box opening.

“Yep, you guessed it,” you hear Benedict chuckle, presumably as Anthony picks out an item.

“You want me to do the honours, brother?” Anthony offers.

“Well, let’s get it warmed up first, then sure,” Benedict responds, and you start to narrow down what it might be.

Benedict pulls you forward from his shoulder. “Open your mouth,” he orders.

Without sight, you are unsure how much you should open, but there is no comment; then you feel cold metal placed on your tongue.

“Suckle darling, get it nice and warm,” his voice gentler, and you realise this is the little butt plug you wear. It’s small with a heart-shaped gem handle. You close your mouth around the plug, heating it with your tongue.

“Good girl,” Benedict purrs, holding your jaw, feeling your suckling action.

You hear the creak of a flipped lid behind you, presumably Anthony opening the lube.

“I think that’s good,” Benedict states, pulling it carefully from your mouth.

You assume he hands it to Anthony because the next thing you feel is Anthony pulling down your underwear, just enough to expose your bum, not removing them completely. There’s a sudden wet, cooling feeling between your bum cheeks that makes you jump a fraction and writhe.

Benedict whispers in your ear, “Are you going to be a good girl for us? Take your little plug and your little vibe?”

“Yes sir”, you respond breathily, as you feel Anthony press the warmed metal up to your opening, your breathing speeding up.

“Good; I want you to be nice and open so you’re ready for when I fuck your tight little hole,” Benedict whispers.

Oh, fuck yes. You love when Benedict talks utter filth in his lilting voice, it makes you weak in the knees and so desperate to experience what he is promising. You can’t help but moan at that and the pressure you feel as Anthony slowly pushes against your opening.

“That’s it, my girl; relax, let it in,” Anthony's voice soothes, rubbing your bum cheek softly.

You take a deep calming breath and relax all your core muscles. Feeling blunt pressure, the plug inches in, and you groan a little getting used to the stretch.

“Just a little more, and you’re done, my girl,” Anthony encourages.

With sudden relief, the pressure changes, and you feel your body close up around the narrow stalk. Inside there is an insistent stretch. It feels delicious, as it always does, so different but stimulating.

“I love the sight of this little gem nestling between your bum cheeks,” Anthony confesses, grabbing and squeezing both.

You groan and sway your hips back towards him. You want him to pull down your knickers and fuck you right now. Instead, he slowly pushes your knickers back into place. His hands crest your hips and pull you back roughly towards him, his clothed cock sliding along the cleft of your asscheeks.

“Why don’t you fuck me, my lord?” you query over your shoulder, even though the blindfold stops you from seeing him.

The vibe roars back to life on your clit, and you cry out.

“Well, my needy girl, because I want you utterly mindless before I fuck you,” Anthony replies. “Also, I don’t believe you have done what we requested of you yet. You are supposed to come sucking his cock; I do believe, so do it,” his voice talking a harsh clipped edge.

“Yes, my lord,” you respond meekly, turning back to Benedict’s lap and sinking your mouth back onto him.

Anthony turns the vibe up to full tilt, and you moan hard, causing Benedicts to do the same as you vibrate around him. You won't last now you are plugged, and Anthony’s hands are on you, caressing your skin, sliding his hard cock over your tailbone.

“I think what my girl needs is just a little bit of….” Anthony begins, and then he spanks your left bum cheek hard.

It's all too much sensation, his spanking, Benedict's cock, the vibe, the plug - all while you are blindfolded. You are drooling all over Benedict, uncaring about what you sound or look like as you are rapidly spiralling, your head spinning.

Then there is a second spank from Anthony on your right cheek this time, and you are cresting hard, convulsing around the plug, flooding your knickers, screaming on Benedict, pushing back onto Anthony. Hundreds of stars behind your blindfolded eyes and electricity humming in all your bones.

Benedict wrenches you off him suddenly, panting hard, squeezing the base of his cock to stave off his response. “Fucking hell, I almost came at that,” he blurts out, shuddering.

“That was something truly special, my girl,” Anthony gloats, dialling back the vibe as you gasp for air, your whole body fizzing.

As you recover, you lay your head in Benedict's lap and feel their hands caressing your skin. After a few seconds, Anthony tugs down your underwear.

“I think that's enough of the vibe for one night,” Anthony says soothingly. “Besides, I want to see this beautiful jewel right here,” he adds, tugging on your plug, not enough to remove it, just enough you can feel the movement, and you groan as he finishes removing your underwear.

“How adventurous are you feeling tonight,” Anthony asks, leaning over your back and breathing into your ear.

“Very,” you answer honestly.

“How would you feel about cuffs on your ankles and wrists, my girl?”

You inhale sharply. “Green.”

“Hmm, good and what about if they were holding you in position?” he continues, pulling you up off Benedict's lap and nuzzling your neck.

“Green,” you answer, anticipation burning.

“Good girl,” he flatters, stroking your hair with delicate fingers as you rest on his shoulder, “just what we wanted to hear. Come with me.”

He sweetly helps you to your feet, your legs shaky from your orgasm. With his arms wrapped firmly around you, he walks you down a hallway; his body solid as it flexes around you. He leads you to his bedroom if your mental map serves you correctly. The blindfold is still blocking all sight you may have.

“Is this your bedroom, my lord?” you guess as he stops; you are sure his spare rooms are to the right, not the left.

“Well remembered, my girl”, he sounds impressed. “I may have purchased some fun things for our playtime,” you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Tell me more, my lord,” you bite your lip, knowing it always makes him kiss you.

Sure enough, his thumb plucks your lip down from your tooth, and he sucks it into his mouth, pulling you into his arms and walking you backwards as he claims your mouth with a deep kiss. He pulls away just as your calves bump into the bed and spins you in his arms, so you are facing it now.

“Crawl onto the bed, my girl. Make sure your back is arched nice and low. I want to see that jewel as you do it,” he orders, his hand resting on the top of your cheek.

You reach forward and climb on all fours tilting your pelvis up, your back curved down.

“Fuck yes, that’s it,” he growls, and there is a light spank on your left cheek before you’ve moved a knee forward. You groan, wanting more, a harder spank that makes your skin tingle.

“Harder, please, my lord,” you sway back, pushing into his crotch, rubbing shamelessly on him like a cat in heat.

“Are you asking for a spanking?” He teases thickly.

“Yes, please, my lord,” you reply.

He obliges a swift stinging smack on your right cheek this time, which morphs into something lingering and tingly as he kneads the flesh he spanked.

“Crawl a little further for me,” he lectures.

You do so, each movement slow, ensuring you sway your hips and display yourself as much as possible, loving when his voice gets low and scratchy from watching you move for him.

“Stop right there,” he voices suddenly. “Put your face on the mattress; keep that bottom up.”

You comply, knowing how lewd you must look. Just as you hear another set of footsteps enter the room.

“Fuck, that looks amazing,” Benedict stutters.

“Ah, good of you to join us, brother,” Anthony comments, “I wouldn’t want you to miss that sort of view.”

You hear a creak of leather as you assume Benedict sits in the chair over to the left near the floor-to-ceiling window; it appears he is here to observe for now.

“The problem is, my girl, your skin is just begging to be marked. Look at all this beautiful flesh,” Anthony sighs, spanking the top of your thigh so hard you squeak. “I don't think my hands are enough…” he trails off, and you hear the metallic tink of his belt buckle unfastening. Your belly roars to life with butterflies. You wondered why he was wearing a belt tonight; his trousers are custom-made; it's a superfluous item of clothing that he rarely needs or wears. Now you know.

“Green,” you mutter quietly before even being asked.

“Oh, my clever, clever girl,” Anthony exhales, running a hand over your other thigh and spanking there, too, for good measure. You squeak again, the sting radiating between your legs, right to your throbbing clit.

You hear the sound of leather stretching as he winds the belt around his hand, and you take a staccato breath, the anticipation burning low in your gut. Not being able to see any movement, to anticipate the first strike just heightens the heat and awareness prickling over your skin.

You gasp as he trails the leather belt end over your toes, the soles of your feet, and then the back of your calves. Then it's gone, and you hear a tiny noise in the air before the belt thwacks lightly against the back of your left thigh, a gentle sting.

You hiss as you feel a little colour bloom there.

“What do you say?” he commands briskly, “for making your skin look so pretty like a picture?”

“Thank you, my lord,” you stutter out.

“That's right,” he preens. “You need more, don't you?”

“Yes, my lord, please,” you plead, your voice light and thready like chiffon.

As you answer, there is a blow to the back of your other thigh, the same strength but a different angle, like he is painting an abstract swath onto the canvas that is your flesh. You moan loudly and flex your hips. Anthony loops the belt between his hands and pulls it taunt over the cleft of your ass, running up and down in a swift motion, making it tug against the plug in your bottom, putting pressure on the walls of your channel.

“Fuck, my lord,” you stutter as he chuckles richly.

Then there is a stinging blow to the globe of your ass, and you cry out, much stronger than the stroke on the back of your thigh. It stings so well, the pleasurable pain a lightning rod to your clit, throbbing and needy. He can likely see it, see you leaking down your thigh, but he pays it no heed.

Instead, there is another strike on your other cheek and your whole body jerks, swaying slightly and widening your knees as you try to keep your ass up high and your face down low, just as he wants.

“Well done, my girl,” he praises, and you hear the belt fall to the floor as you breathe through the sting. A warm hand lands on the middle of your back, giving soothing strokes for a few moments as you recover.

“How would you feel about being harnessed just like this?” Anthony enquires smoothly after a minute or so.

“Green,” you respond after briefly considering the question.

“Good,” he says, the hand running down your spine softly. “I purchased a beautiful leather restraint set”. His fingers trace over the sensitive skin where the back of your thighs meets your bottom. “They are going to wrap around your right here.” He moves your hands backwards, holding them on the side of your thighs. “Your hands will be here,” he says quietly, “and your feet…” he picks them up, moving them, almost but not quite flush with your bum cheeks, “…will be like this.”

In this position, your knees and face are your only leverage points of balance.

“It’s called a frog tie, and I just think you would look so beautiful in it, my girl,” he explains, caressing your calf and kissing your lower back.

“Green, my lord”, you agree, excited to be restrained in such an open manner as he lowers your feet back down for balance.

“Thank you” his tone is reverential. He moves up to stroke your hair affectionately, sitting on the bed near your head. “Thank you for this, my darling girl. I promise it will be wonderful for you.”

“I know, my lord, I trust you,” you answer.

“Your trust is the most beautiful gift you can give me,” he assures, his voice thick with emotion.

You just smile and lean into his gentle caresses as you feel a dip in the bed behind you as Benedict kneels on the mattress and strokes the back of your thighs.

“Look at these soaked thighs; I think this pussy needs some attention,” Benedict declares.

“Please,” your response is needy, desperate to alleviate the throbbing.

Anthony pulls up your blindfold a little, and you blink, adjusting to the low light in the room. You twist your head to the side to observe him as he opens his shirt buttons. His motions are a striptease, and you nod as enthusiastically as you can with your head down on the bed, and he smiles wolfishly and shucks his shirt.

Benedict chuckles at your exchange, then his hands grab your asscheeks, dives face-first into your cunt, greedily lapping at your juices. You cry out and clench around the plug in your bottom.

“Oh, I saw that little gem move,” Benedict growls, muffled into your flesh. “I hope it’s getting you nice and open ready for me,” he warns, filthy.

“Yes, sir,” you answer breathily.

“Good girl,” he replies and spanks your bottom hard, diving his tongue back inside you.

You squeal at the sensation on your tender bum and grind your core shamelessly back onto Benedict’s face as you watch Anthony pull off his trousers, also without underwear, his magnificent cock bobbing as he stands back up straight. You salivate for it. He climbs onto the bed and settles against the headboard, legs on either side of you, leaning forward and pulling your head up off the bed, kissing your lips.

“Do you want to come with my cock in your mouth, too, darling?” He whispers as he eases the blindfold back down over your eyes.

“Yes, please, my lord,” you lean forward and rub your face in his chest hair, your sense of touch heightening as you are robbed of your sight again.

“Brother give this greedy beautiful girl her third orgasm of the night, please,” Anthony orders casually.

“It would be my honour and pleasure,” Benedict responds, the five o clock shadow on his chin rasping your clit as he talks. You moan at the sensation.

“But what about my restraints, my lord?” you ask, kissing Anthony’s right nipple as Benedict drags his tongue lower, lapping your clit, and making you groan.

“I thought for later, my girl,” Anthony remarks, “do you want to be in them now?” He queries, his voice impressed.

“Yes, please,” you whisper into his sternum, almost ashamed of how excited you are by the prospect; the freedom of giving up all control is such an intoxicating thought—panting now at Benedict’s sensual assault.

“Do you really want me to interrupt whatever is making you pull that face?” Anthony questions, bemused, cupping your jaw and kissing your cheek. You groan and drop your head down out of his grip as Benedict rubs the edge of his teeth over your clitoral hood.

“K… fine… after orgasm,” you stutter, barely forming a sentence. Anthony chuckles above you and shuffles upwards slightly. You feel the heat of his cock close by, so you nuzzle with your face until it catches your chin, and you open your mouth and take him in, suckling just the head lightly as he moans in delight; it sounds like he grabs the metal bar on his headboard, his signet ring tinking against it.

Benedict pushes a hand on your lower back, making your back arch further, and he sucks your swollen clit wholly into his mouth and bites down. Your curse is muffled around Anthony’s cock, the shock causing you to slide down further, him bumping the back of your mouth. All three of you groan simultaneously, you being bookended by these beautiful boys.

Anthony grabs the back of your head, holding you down as you feel the pressure. At that moment, Benedict intentionally bites your nub again while tugging gently on the plug in your bum. You scream around Anthony, and he moans so deeply you think he might come.

“Oh my fucking god,” Anthony gusts, the hand on your head weighty, “stay down; you feel like heaven; I wanna fuck you so hard… so fucking hard right now,” he mumbles through gritted teeth.

Benedict is keeping you right on edge with his teeth and tongue. You are just making a long low whine now but desperately need air, your lungs burning. Anthony wrenches you up off him, and you take wracking, deep breaths, fighting for oxygen and groaning at the white-hot pleasure around your clit. Benedict knows you are dancing on the precipice, thighs twitching.

Anthony pushes you back onto his leaking cock, testing your breathing limits. “Stay down until you come, my girl,” he warns. You feel lightheaded but, more than anything, want to obey.

Without warning, Benedict pumps three long fingers inside you and rumbles against your clit between his lips as he does so. The low vibration tips you over into a shuddering, screaming orgasm, writhing and pushing back onto his face as he puts pressure on your plug as you clench and release in waves, holding it firm.

Anthony is groaning hard above you, and he twitches in your mouth. “Fuck, you are a wonder, my girl,” he babbles.

You will do anything to please him, so while you come down from your intense high, you stay on his cock, leaking juices on Benedict’s face as he places gentle kisses on your inner thighs.

“That she is,” Benedict concurs, running his tongue up your slit obscenely and over the gem nestling between your cheeks before pulling upright and spanking you hard, rubbing his cock over your tailbone.

Anthony pulls you up by grabbing your hair. “Well done, my girl. If you stayed down any longer, I would have come, and we both know where we want that don’t we?”

“Inside me?” you pipe up between breaths, tilting forward to rest your head on his stomach.

“That’s right,” he says, stroking your hair again.

Benedict hops off the bed and retrieves something from across the room.

“Are you ready to be restrained now, our girl?” he questions softly.

“Green sir,” you enthuse over your left shoulder; even though you can’t see him, the instinct to turn towards the person speaking to you still lingers.

Anthony shifts around you and gets off the bed to your right. “I’ll take this side, brother. Ass up higher, my girl; show me that beautiful gem,” he tutors as you shuffle into position. “That’s it perfect,” he praises.

You breathe slowly, tamping down the excitement crawling over your skin as you feel the soft leather wrapping around your upper thighs as they both adjust the buckles.

“It should be snug but not hurt,” Anthony counsels, “how’s that fit?”

“It’s good, my lord,” you confirm.

“Wonderful. Third notch brother,” he advises Benedict as you feel the identical fit around your left thigh.

They cuff both ankles simultaneously, pulling your legs up and attaching them via a clip to the back of your thigh restraint. Something calming and arousing settles into your gut once you are entirely restricted in moving your lower half, your ankles tethered to the back of your thighs, your knees being your only leverage point.

“My girl, give me your colour, please,” Anthony says sincerely. “Try to wriggle; confirm you feel comfortable.”

You do as advised and feel nothing but excitement. “Green, my lord.”

They round the bed on either side, each taking a hand and wrapping a soft cuff around your wrists. There is a loop to attach them to the side of your thighs, but they don’t do so.

“Let’s see how you go like this for now,” Anthony intones, rubbing a soothing pattern down your spine. “If you like it, we’ll clip your wrists in too.”

“Green, my lord,” you respond clearly, “I’m sure I will.”

He huffs an amused noise and walks to the end of the bed, climbing to kneel behind you, he grasps your hips, and you lean down onto your forearms. Assuming a position you know he likes.

“Oh, good girl,” he clucks, “are you ready to be fucked, darling?”

“Please,” you implore.

“I do so love it when you are needy,” he exhales, “And I love this being here. Your bottom looks so pretty” he spins the plug just a fraction which has you moaning. “Now you’ve already come three times tonight, you greedy girl. So guess what? You’re not allowed to come again until you have my permission, do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord,” you confirm, your words muffled into the bedding.

“Widen those knees, my girl. Let’s really see those restraints working,” he taps your thigh, and you do as told.

You feel his tip nudge you and smile, so aching and ready to be filled. He surges forward in one swift movement burying himself deep within you, holding his thumb over your plug as your body tries to push it out with the force of his entry. You moan into the sheets, feeling so overwhelmed and so filled.

“Oh god, this is perfect,” he growls, “I can feel that plug through your wall, darling girl. God, it’s making you so tight. I’m going to have to go slow,” he says through gritted teeth, pulling back slowly, then pushing back in with a groan. “Brother, you must try this; she feels exquisite.”

You feel a dip in the bed next to your shoulder as Benedict sits down. “I will,” he responds with a chuckle. Then you feel him lay down perpendicular in front of you, his head near yours.

“Hello darling girl,” he murmurs, “I haven’t even gotten to kiss you yet tonight, have I?”

“No sir,” your response is uneven as Anthony retreats and then surges into you.

“Then let’s remedy that right away,” he pulls you down into a searing kiss as Anthony sets a slow, dragging rhythm.

“Are you enjoying yourself tonight?” Benedict’s tone is gentle as he caresses your face with warm fingertips.

“Yes, sir,” you enthuse before he kisses you again.

“Do you like your restraints?” you can tell from his tone that he is smirking, his lips warm on your face.

“Yes, I love being like this,” you admit.

“Good. One day,” he sighs, almost wistful, “I’m going to tie you down spreadeagled and fuck you so hard you will be begging me to keep you there.”

You love when he talks utter filth to you, especially while his brother takes you so hard. You can’t see it, but you know Benedict is smiling devilishly from the tone in his voice.

“I’ll crop your beautiful skin—it should always be flecked with little marks from discipline. You are such a little brat who needs so much taming.” He rounds a hand into your hair as he speaks, tugging your scalp and making you rasp. “I want you to wear clamps. Beautiful jewelled clamps to match your lovely little plug. With a chain between them, so I can pull on it, make your nipples ache for my tongue to soothe them.”

You groan as he talks, wanting everything he is promising. Anthony’s cock spearing you open over and over as you picture precisely what Benedict is saying. He moves so his lips are on the shell of your ear, his fingers feathering along the tie that is your blindfold.

“But most of all, perhaps I want you to wear a collar, my collar. I want you to belong to me.” His voice is so quiet you know Anthony can't hear. “I will share with my brother, but you should know I don't always want to. I'm a greedy man, and sometimes I want you all to myself. Part of me wants to whisk you away and lock you in a luxury tower somewhere secret and far away. Make you submit to every single one of my fantasies.”

You are breathless, knowing you would let him and probably beg him for more. And if Anthony offered you the same thing, you would in a heartbeat as well. You want them both so much.

“Restrain my hands, sir,” you pant in response. You want to feel helpless.

“Right now?” he checks, his breathing unevenly.

“Please. Yes. Green.”

You feel the bed move as Benedict gets up and tilts your shoulders to the mattress before grabbing your left arm and locking it in place.

“She asked for this, brother,” Benedict assures, and Anthony growls when he realises what you asked for, his pace never wavering as he plunges into you.

You hear Benedict round the bed and pull back your right arm, looping the cuff into the ring at your thigh.

Now you are entirely frog-tied at their mercy.

Unable to do much but shuffle and tilt over. The fire that rages in your belly notches lower and licks at your core, feeling an insistent throb where Anthony pounds into you. You know you don't have permission to come yet, but something about being so bound is rocketing you towards another climax. You just submit to the sensation of Anthony, his hands gripping your hipbones insistently, the plug in your bottom jerking with each surge into your body.

“Anthony,” you murmur his actual name into the sheets, flexing your hips slightly, testing the bounds of your restraints.

“Fuck darling girl,” he gasps, “I'm going to come.”

“Do it please, please, my lord,” you urge, desperate to see him behind your blindfold but even more frantic to feel him come apart inside you.

“Are you going to come with me, my girl?” his voice questioning.

“Do I have your permission, my lord?”

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he compliments, grabbing the meat of your bottom before returning to grasp your hip, “yes, yes you do.”

Suddenly, an arm curls under you and strong fingers are at your clit. But you realise they cannot be Anthony’s as both his hands are branding a bruising imprint onto the crest of your hipbones.

Then that sinful voice is back by your ear. Benedict. “Come on his cock, do as you are told.”

You can only obey, the thrill of being restrained and both of their attentions hurtling you fast towards another high. As you break, you realise this one is a gentler wave. It crests over your body; you moan and writhe, feeling Anthony piston in and out a few times, then jerk hard, holding still, slumping over and biting your shoulder as he empties deep inside you with a wracking groan. You bear his weight the best you can, your leather restraints creaking as it pushes your knees out wider, sinking further into the mattress. He pants hard as he slowly pulls out and takes his weight off you.

“Fucking hell,” he gusts, “It's never been that intense. Brother, you have to get on that. Right now,” Anthony advises sagely, and you feel him dismount the bed and stumble away to catch his breath.

Benedict's fingers are still on your clit as he rounds behind you. “Are you ready for me, darling girl?” his voice a low dangerous vibration. There will only be a few heartbeats between them being inside you, and the thought of it makes you burn hot.

“Yes,” you croak quietly.

He surges into your still-fluttering cunt, and you both groan loudly. He stills, feeling the ripples surrounding his cock and breathing heavily with each pulse.

“I thought you were going to fuck my ass, sir,” you goad.

He huffs a laugh. “Oh, I will,” the glittering promise already making your body bow.

Benedict does not move. He just holds you on him, buried so deep. He always feels different to Anthony in a way you can’t articulate, no less intoxicating, though. Then you feel his fingers wrap around the heart-shaped plug, and your breath catches. Your teeth sink into the sheets as he twirls it around in a slow circle.

“Now I think it's time this little plug came out; you should be nice and ready for me now,” his tone dusky.

You moan as his knuckles slide against the skin around your hole and hook under the plug handle, pulling up and out slowly but steadily. You huff as the plug reaches its widest part slipping out of you. The stretch is entirely pleasant, and your core pulses around him. Benedict groans and tosses the toy aside onto the floor as you pant lightly and feel a cold slide of liquid between your cheeks as he applies more lube. You hold your breath as he slowly pulls out of your cunt, and there is a creak of the restraints as he rearranges your body and himself, lining up.

“Colour,” he demands.

“Green, sir,” you answer instantly.

And then it begins. The pressure is intense as the blunt head of his cock pushes insistently at your tight entrance.

“Relax, my girl,” he tutors.

You take a deep calming breath in. As you exhale, Benedict slips into your body. You groan loud and long, the stretch and feeling of fullness back there so different but just as exhilarating. He stutters and swears, pausing to adjust his stance before driving forward a little more, spearing deeper. Taking your upper body weight on your chin makes your jaw ache, so you swap the weight to your forehead and pant, wanting more than anything to be entirely at his command, to enter that mental space where your body submits, and your mind floats.

“Good girl, you are such a good girl,” Anthony praises as his warm hand runs up your spine and into your hair, grabbing and pulling tight. “Breathe.”

You do as Anthony commands, breathing deep and slow as Benedict slips further inside you.

“You feel so good,” Benedict praises as he sinks to his root with a grunt, letting you adjust to the sensation of being so viscerally invaded. “How do you feel?”

“So very full,” you puff into the sheets, feeling the pull of your restraints as he grabs your butt cheeks and spanks them hard.

You squeal and that makes him chuckle.

“Good, I don't plan to go slow, so hold on, sweet girl,” he warns.

“To what, sir?” you sass, waving the hands cuffed to your thighs.

He chuckles deeply. “Brat,” he lobbies affectionately.

As Benedict draws back, Anthony releases your hair, and you sense him slipping under you. With a slight tilt of your body, he slides between you and the mattress so your head is resting on his warm fuzzy chest, his legs on either side of your restraints.

“Hello, my lord,” you greet him warmly, tilting your face up, hoping for a kiss.

“Hello, my girl; I think I might know just what you need to make this extra special,” he offers huskily and as he kisses you, his fingers snag around your nipples, pulling harshly as Benedict pushes back into your hole with a loud groan.

The feeling of your ass being so filled and your nipples aching has you crying out as Benedict starts a rocking rhythm into you. You pant both my lord and sir, part of you wanting to call their real names. Anthony’s fingers expertly twirl on your sensitive nubs, and you feel drunk on the sensation Benedict is giving you.

“Spank her again, brother,” Anthony calls over your shoulder.

Benedict obliges just as Anthony slides his fingers inside your achingly wet cunt. You scream at the feeling of having both of them inside you. Anthony’s fingers expertly locate the spot that drives you crazy and rapidly hit it with a robust and intense jab. You curse loudly and Benedict almost howls as you convulse strongly, transferring through your walls to grip around him. You groan again as Anthony’s fingers press harder, eliciting a carnal squelching noise from your core. You are powerless to stop him, having no leverage tied up as you are. Also, you don't want him to stop. Not in the slightest.

“I figure the least I can do is make her squirt for you, brother,” Anthony sniggers, almost fighting to be heard over your moaning that has become a constant noise as he rocks hard and fast onto your G-spot.

“My lord,” you sob, dangling again so soon to mindless while Benedict ploughs into you.

The pressure building is intense, and your restraints creak as you flex involuntarily at the strong clenching feelings you fight, your hands balling helplessly at your hips, fingernails sinking into the heel or your own palms. Anthony takes your body somewhere primitive and instinctual, where your mind switches off, and you are rooted only in the tide of sensation washing over you.

The pressure builds to a breaking point until you are open-mouthed screaming as you feel a massive, almost forbidden release. Your whole frame shudders as you feel yourself soaking the bed, your legs, Anthony’s hand and Benedict's thighs as Anthony makes victorious noises. Benedict curses, and with a few deep growling surges, you feel him coming deep in your bottom, a warmth blooming inside, not as sensitive as your pussy but a filling sensation nonetheless.

The three of you curse almost in unison. Your legs feel shaky and almost cramping as Anthony slides from under you and quickly unhooks your hands and feet from your restraints. You collapse face-first onto the mattress, Benedict still buried inside you. He grunts and follows you down, covering you, still recovering himself, withdrawing from your body gradually.

After a few moments, when they have gently cleansed your body and their own, you are lying on the bed with the boys on either side of you. They run delicate hands over your skin in soothing motions, lingering kisses on your neck as you recover from the intensity of the session.

“Same time tomorrow, boys?” you tease quietly, stifling a yawn. They both chuckle, nuzzling your neck as you feel the drowsiness hit you, and you drift off in their embrace. Today’s lesson proved a very enlightening one.

Anthony & Benedict taglists: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @queenofmean14

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