Dark hair, a fantasy

July 21

I challenge them at every step. She has a mane of raven hair, pale skin, and flashing Romani eyes. Her tattoos are hidden by an old-fashioned dress in heavy black. He has a loose shirt and jacket. Silver streaks in his dark hair.

At first, they are lenient… but I raise their ire well. They promise to *** me recant; but I only laugh. Let them try.

The streets are dark as I walk home. As I round the corner, the couple fall into step with me, emerging from nowhere. They link their arms in mine and I smile, not halting a minute.

My heart is beating very fast. I smell his cologne; see her wicked eyes, and know I’m in trouble.

The discussion is cavalier, but her hands trace my waist; he squeezes my arm hard in warning.

One lawn is overgrown, and I realize I don’t know where I am. I’ve been so busy affecting nonchalance and elegance that I stopped paying attention.

They haven’t, guiding me into bushes as tall as I am. They’re thick, too, hiding the three of us easily.

“Let’s see how much of a brat you really are,” he says. He handcuffs my hands behind my back; she gags me. He tears at my shirt, ripping the fabric; pulls down my bra, and clamps both nipples. Her hand slips into my pants, teasing me.

They *** me until my body rises, until I can barely breathe, before they take me inside. No random selection, then; the hardy bushes hide a handy house. Exposed stairs lead to a second story; there’s little furniture.

What there is, however, is a sub. She had chin-short black hair and sunflower ink, studying me with disinterest.

“Another one?”

“A brat,” the woman says fondly. “We’re teaching her manners.”

The man looses my gag, his fingers beneath my chin, that I am ***d to look upon him.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

I raise my head. “You can’t make me.”

The tamed submissive whistles.

He slaps me without letting go. “I think I misheard you. Are you going to be good?”

“You haven’t earned that,” I point out. My grey eyes meet with his.

“Hmm,” he says. “We appear to have a problem, my love.”

“She just needs time to adjust,” the woman suggests. “Let’s put her up.”

They attach my wrists to a hook; the submissive pulls me up, that I’m ***d to stand on my tip toes. The man removes the clamps, but before I can react, the woman begins to slap my ass. Each stroke is loud, a crack in the night, and she continues until I forget myself and cry.

She switches to a belt without comment, and my body melts, shaking beneath her blows. The man turns his attention to their submissive, who sucks him as the lady works. At the sight of my tears, he stops her.

He sends her to me with a careless gesture, and the girl fucks met with an oversized toy as I’m beaten. Her spare hand fucks my ass with practiced fingers. Before long, my entire body trembles; little whimpers part my lips.

“Ohgodohgodohgod,” I whisper. “Please! Please, I—I’m going to—“

“Oh, no,” the dominant woman purrs. She stops, rubbing a hand against my hot skin, pink and marked beneath her. She’s done a splendid job, too; the color is evenly spread, carefully done. “You have to ask before you cum, little brat.”

“Give in,” the girl fucking me murmurs, seemingly for me alone. “Give in, little girl, so we can play.”

At this, I stiffen, remembering myself.

“No,” I say sharply. “I won’t!”

They take me off the hook, instead tying me to the stairs, facing the wall, my pink skin exposed. The man comes around, calmly parting my mouth with an o-gag and fucking my mouth.

There’s a huge mirror behind him. In the reflection, the dominant woman pleases her submissive, who falls in line with bliss. The man watches them with building pleasure, using me as a *** object. I struggle against the ties, but they don’t budge.

He finishes inside me, then joins the other two with nary a glance. My eyes are wide as their submissive serves, as they partner together to bring the long-haired one to multiple orgasms.

When he decides she’s had enough, all three of them turn their attention to me.

It’s his turn to mark my skin, to lash the tip of his belt on me. It’s his turn to go, and he goes hard. The woman throws aside my gag to finger my mouth, rescuing me from the taste of him. The submissive, taking what she can, pours wax on my back, then plays with my clit.

I am dripping. I’ve forgotten myself, forgotten very nearly all. My body is twitching against myself… all will drained away…a mess of holes and pleading.

A toy.

“Beg me to cum,” the man says calmly. “Beg me, and I’ll give you to even more hands, Tessa.” Another slap. “Beg!”

“Please let me cum,” I manage, breaking at last. “Please!”

At this, a pause. The man murmurs something to the woman, who removes her fingers from my mouth. Their submissive, too, ceases motion.

But only for a moment.

In seconds, the last is back, fucking me with another toy. On the other side of the stairs, the dominant woman plays with my nipples, kissing me deeply. The *** is mentally discarded, but everything is sensitive, driving, devouring. Naked air is harsh on my skin. That which has been beaten is hot, too.

This time, my begging is rewarded with acquiescence. I explode to coos and cheers, panting, blind with need.

They set me loose to check on me, setting a blindfold on my eyes, instructing me to wait. The door opens again; two people enter.

“You’re not done,” the man warns me. “Not by a long shot, Tessa. Be good for my guests, mm?”

“Yes, sir,” I say.

There’s a set of fingers, mercifully cool, at my chin. A mouth is gently pressed to mine, stroking my hair. Someone rubs lotion on my ***d skin, tips water into my mouth. I gulp gratefully, tears prickling at the blindfold.

“Play? like this? Heavens, no,” the voice says soothingly.

“She needs to be broken,” the man explained.

“She needs to be wanted,” the newcomer answers. “She’ll take what’s offered if you’re careful, Eric… if you earn it. All you’ve done here is play into her hands, and too far on top of it.”

Eric. I realize I don’t know the names of the people who just used me, and now my head in shame until the cool fingers come again.

“Tessa, Tessa,” she chides. She slips the blindfold off easily, tucks hair behind my ear, in easy gestures. “What have you done?”

I close my eyes in relief, but only for a moment. My body relaxes as Ty continues the lotion, stroking and comforting me.

“Hello, Beth,” I say softly. My eyes shine with trust, and she smiles knowingly. My body, prepared entirely to do what I can for them, resets itself as best it can.

“Come, my dear,” she says to me. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”