food
inside, you eat it. If it’s a drink, you drink it.”
Sounded
fair enough so far. But I knew enough at this point to realize there was sure
to be a catch. “Yes, Master,” I finally said when he didn’t go on.
“If
it isn’t food or drink, it will be something we’ll use on you—as many times as
the number of the cubby. If it is something we put on you or in you, or
anything of that nature, it will stay there until the end, unless we decide
otherwise. The game is over when every cubby hole is empty…and each of your
holes is filled with a cock.”
Christ
on a cracker. Every hole? They were seriously going to triple-team me…and that
was going to be after everything to do with those cubby holes. I did a
quick count in my head. There had to be close to twenty of them, or maybe even
more than that.
More
and more, I wasn’t so sure I liked the sound of this game. Still, my limbs were
trembling as I knelt there on all fours, and the walls of my sex clenched in
anticipation.
Thornton
moved over to the wall and flipped a switch, and a blinding spotlight came on
over the center of the room. “Just making sure your man doesn’t miss anything
important, slut.”
After
squinting for a moment against the sudden onslaught of light, I finally spotted
a few cameras filming me.
“Give
me a number, Fuck Toy.”
I
tried to come up with a quick strategy, but did it really matter? We were going
to go through every cubby hole before they’d let me quit.
Apparently
I was taking too long to make up my decision, though.
Bradford
marched over to me, reached down below me, and grabbed onto one of my tits,
pulling it so hard I had to stand up or else he might rip it off of me.
“A
number,” he repeated.
“Seventeen,
Master,” I said on a gasp.
Jones
crossed over to the cubbies and opened the door to number seventeen.
“Clothespins.”
Before
I knew what was happening, Thornton grabbed my arms and pinned them behind my
back, holding me still with a death grip. Jones brought the clothespins over,
and he and Bradford set to work pinching the skin of my breasts and fastening
them on me. They put eight on each breast, near the areolas.
But
then Bradford held up the last one in front of my face. “Where should we put
the last one, Fuck Toy?”
My
breathing was already labored, and my brain wasn’t all that clear, and he
wanted me to make that decision? I racked my brain, but the only thing that
came to mind was, “My stomach, Master.”
He
slapped my stomach in response. “Wrong answer, Fuck Toy.” And then his hand was
between my legs. He pulled my distended clit free from its hood and pinched the
clothespin in place on it.
It
was like that little bundle of nerves had been electrified by the thing. My
legs buckled, and I would have fallen if Thornton wasn’t holding me in place.
His hard cock pressed up against the plug in my butt, and he ground his hips
into me.
“Another
number.”
Picking
high hadn’t worked out so well, so I tried a different tactic. “Three, Master.”
Again,
Jones went to the wall of mystery boxes and brought back my prize. “A banana.
Open wide, sugar.”
With
Thornton still holding me in place with my arms locked behind my back, Jones
fed me the banana a bite at a time. As he did, Bradford toyed with the
clothespins on my breasts and my clit, jiggling them back and forth. It was
hard to concentrate on eating, but if I didn’t, there was no telling how long
it would be before I had a decent meal.
“Another
number, Fuck Toy.”
“Nine,
Master.”
Jones
brought back a candle and lighter. I sucked in a breath, wondering what they
would do with that. He lit the wick and then passed the taper over to Bradford,
who held it for a moment, letting some of the wax melt at the top.
“Put
her on her back and hold her down,” he said a minute later.
Thornton
pushed me to my knees and kept pushing until I was on my back. He held both my
wrists in one hand, stretched up above my
inside, you eat it. If it’s a drink, you drink it.”
Sounded
fair enough so far. But I knew enough at this point to realize there was sure
to be a catch. “Yes, Master,” I finally said when he didn’t go on.
“If
it isn’t food or drink, it will be something we’ll use on you—as many times as
the number of the cubby. If it is something we put on you or in you, or
anything of that nature, it will stay there until the end, unless we decide
otherwise. The game is over when every cubby hole is empty…and each of your
holes is filled with a cock.”
Christ
on a cracker. Every hole? They were seriously going to triple-team me…and that
was going to be after everything to do with those cubby holes. I did a
quick count in my head. There had to be close to twenty of them, or maybe even
more than that.
More
and more, I wasn’t so sure I liked the sound of this game. Still, my limbs were
trembling as I knelt there on all fours, and the walls of my sex clenched in
anticipation.
Thornton
moved over to the wall and flipped a switch, and a blinding spotlight came on
over the center of the room. “Just making sure your man doesn’t miss anything
important, slut.”
After
squinting for a moment against the sudden onslaught of light, I finally spotted
a few cameras filming me.
“Give
me a number, Fuck Toy.”
I
tried to come up with a quick strategy, but did it really matter? We were going
to go through every cubby hole before they’d let me quit.
Apparently
I was taking too long to make up my decision, though.
Bradford
marched over to me, reached down below me, and grabbed onto one of my tits,
pulling it so hard I had to stand up or else he might rip it off of me.
“A
number,” he repeated.
“Seventeen,
Master,” I said on a gasp.
Jones
crossed over to the cubbies and opened the door to number seventeen.
“Clothespins.”
Before
I knew what was happening, Thornton grabbed my arms and pinned them behind my
back, holding me still with a death grip. Jones brought the clothespins over,
and he and Bradford set to work pinching the skin of my breasts and fastening
them on me. They put eight on each breast, near the areolas.
But
then Bradford held up the last one in front of my face. “Where should we put
the last one, Fuck Toy?”
My
breathing was already labored, and my brain wasn’t all that clear, and he
wanted me to make that decision? I racked my brain, but the only thing that
came to mind was, “My stomach, Master.”
He
slapped my stomach in response. “Wrong answer, Fuck Toy.” And then his hand was
between my legs. He pulled my distended clit free from its hood and pinched the
clothespin in place on it.
It
was like that little bundle of nerves had been electrified by the thing. My
legs buckled, and I would have fallen if Thornton wasn’t holding me in place.
His hard cock pressed up against the plug in my butt, and he ground his hips
into me.
“Another
number.”
Picking
high hadn’t worked out so well, so I tried a different tactic. “Three, Master.”
Again,
Jones went to the wall of mystery boxes and brought back my prize. “A banana.
Open wide, sugar.”
With
Thornton still holding me in place with my arms locked behind my back, Jones
fed me the banana a bite at a time. As he did, Bradford toyed with the
clothespins on my breasts and my clit, jiggling them back and forth. It was
hard to concentrate on eating, but if I didn’t, there was no telling how long
it would be before I had a decent meal.
“Another
number, Fuck Toy.”
“Nine,
Master.”
Jones
brought back a candle and lighter. I sucked in a breath, wondering what they
would do with that. He lit the wick and then passed the taper over to Bradford,
who held it for a moment, letting some of the wax melt at the top.
“Put
her on her back and hold her down,” he said a minute later.
Thornton
pushed me to my knees and kept pushing until I was on my back. He held both my
wrists in one hand, stretched up above my
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