part 2 was awhile ago
Amelia woke slowly, groggy with post-sex stupor. She didn’t remember being unfastened from the kitchen table, didn’t know how they had all wound up in her bed. Her hair was a tangled mess, and she felt cum drying on her skin.
She felt the soreness of her throat, her pussy throbbed, and her ass was a waking nightmare of pain.
Then why the fuck was her clit throbbing and her pussy wetting again?
She needed to pee. Slowly, trying not to waken the slumberous men around her, she slid down the bed, landing quietly on her toes. She tiptoed into the bathroom, shutting the door almost all the way before turning on the light.
She saw her reflection in the large mirror over the sink. Gods she was a mess. She reached up at touched the sticky mass gluing her hair together at the side of her temple, touched the finger-shaped bruises on her breasts.
She frowned. But, she wasn’t feeling frowney. She was feeling horny.
Damn them. Damn her and her memories and fantasies of them.
The door opened, and Marty stood there, looking at her.
She felt her heart begin to race.
“hi” she offered, tentatively.
“you are so fucking gorgeous like this.” Marty was an artist, but this? She looked once more at herself in the mirror. He came in to stand behind her. She caught the reflection of his rising cock in the mirror, then felt it poke along her ass as he pressed tight behind her, cupping her sore tits, and squeezing them.
She moaned softly.
“Look. Look at you Amelia. Marked by the men you love. Marked by your fantasy come to life. Painted in our touch. You wear our fingers here.” He punctuated his statement with a firm squeeze on the lush globe he held in his hands. Her head fell back against his shoulder.
She forgot she had to pee. She forgot she was matted and sticky and was only aware of Him. His words painted a picture for her, behind her closed lids. How beautiful her submission was to them, to all of them. How much they loved fucking her, fucking her body, her mind. How much they would continue fucking her in the days ahead.
His fingers slid down to her nipples, squeezing hard, then pulling them away. Pulled until they slipped from his pinching grip, and fell with a bobble back to her chest.
“Get in the tub.” His voice was husky now, and his cock was hard behind her. His hands guided her, turned her.
“Lay down, spread your legs, then reach down and pull your pussy lips apart. I want to see all of you, my little fuck doll.”
She shivered at the words, the tone, the deed.
He looked at her pussy. Looked and looked. Taking his cock in hand, he aimed it at her. For a moment she wondered how he was going to fuck her here, the logistics seemed awkward…when the stream of his hot piss hitting her between her open labia startled a cry from her.
He aimed at her mouth.
She clamped her lips shut.
She shook her head, no.
“Slut, you promised something downstairs. Did you forget already?”
She shook her head vehemently no. But she adamantly refused to open her mouth.
He finished pissing on her pussy, playing his stream along her clit and making her moan.
“Stay right there, fuckslut. You need to be punished now.”
She lay in the bottom of the tub for what felt like hours. She shivered, the first heat of Marty’s piss having passed, leaving her damp and chilled. And she was afraid of what would happen next. She could hear them, the murmur of male voices talking in the other room, then, the bedroom door opening, feet clomping downstairs, then back up.
The bathroom door opened.
Her eyes grew wary as she tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. Sam held a jumble of things in his arms; he had always been the creative genius of the group. He could make the strangest of things come together to make wacky, workable devices. It seemed he’d taken his McGeeky-guyver skills to an entirely new dimension.
She shivered again.
“You’ve been a bad girl.” Andy looked at her, his expression serious, solemn.
“Marty says you disobeyed a direct order, slut. You made a promise to us, and now, well, we need to take some corrective, disciplinary action, you bad little cunt.” Turning to Sam, he nodded.
The three of them pulled her up from the tub. Marty grabbed her chin between his fingers and spat on her cheek, then rubbed it around with his index finger.
He grabbed a fistful of Amelia’s hair and pulled her down across the toilet. She tried to rise, to resist, but she couldn’t move. When she felt something pushing at her asshole, she whimpered.
“Guess what, cunt? Did you know there’s more than one use for a turkey baster? Sam here took off the bulb on the end, and ducktaped your big funnel to it. The little end fits perfectly into this pvc tubing…guess you used to have a fish tank or something, right? The tubing is going up into your asshole now, we’ll put 10 inches or so up there, and then, we’re all gonna take a piss into the funnel.”
Sam took up the explanation as she whimpered.
“You’re gonna get a geek piss enema, little fuck. When we’ve drained our snakes, we’ll stuff this ass plug up your butt-hole, and let it all swish around in there for a while. You’ll want it out sooner than we’ll let it out, but then your bum will be all nice and clean when we use it. ”
“And later,” Andy added, “we’ll make you a nice warm shot of hot piss. You will open your mouth then, won’t you fuck doll?”
The hand holding her hair relaxed, and she nodded, defeated.
“I know you think this is the most terrible thing, don’t you little Amelia?”
Marty lifted her head, looked down at her splotched, tear-piss-and spit covered face.
She nodded slowly, yes, yes.
He leaned close, closer, his breath warm against her ear.
“Then why is your pussy so wet?”