Chapter 9: Have You Ever Been Pegged Before?

Continued from chapter 8:

Raven moves to Hazel's other side, her expression softer, almost apologetic—though there's nothing apologetic about the way her dark eyes glitter with intent.

"We're not monsters," she says smoothly. "We're giving you something to... amuse yourself with."

She coats her fingers liberally with lubrication, and the cool slickness drips onto Hazel's quivering pussy. Hazel gasps, her body going rigid, and I watch—helpless, bound, aching—as Paige begins to tease her. Her fingers work with practiced efficiency, circling Hazel's entrance, then pushing inside, stretching her open with a ruthless, methodical precision. Each movement is calculated to draw maximum reaction, and Hazel responds beautifully—her hips bucking instinctively, her cries turning from pleas for mercy into helpless, needy whines.

My cock pulses with each of Hazel's moans, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I'm hard, that I'm watching this, that some dark, twisted part of me is enjoying the sight of her vulnerability even as I'm bound and helpless myself.

Paige smiles down at the writhing girl, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

"She's ready, Raven. Give me the egg."

Chapter 9:

Raven steps forward, her movements languid and graceful, taking the humming egg from Paige's hand. She kneels beside the bench, looking down at Hazel with a gaze that is both clinical and deeply sensual. She doesn't rush; she waits until Hazel is visibly trembling, her muscles tight, her breathing ragged and desperate.

Only then does she lower the vibrating egg toward Hazel's entrance, and I watch as Hazel's entire body goes rigid with anticipation and fear.

And slowly, inexorably, despite a squeal of protest from Hazel, Raven pushes the vibrator all the way in until only the pull ring is visible, protruding from between Hazel's glistening lips.

A choked scream tears from Hazel's throat as the vibrator seats fully inside her. Her back arches sharply off the bench, her body fighting the overwhelming onslaught of sensation—the stretch, the pressure, the relentless buzzing deep in her most intimate core. Tears spring to her eyes, blurring her reflection in the mirror above. She writhes against the silk ropes binding her wrists and ankles, the fibers digging into her skin as she struggles to process the intensity.

I listen to Hazel's whimpers and cries as she writhes with pleasure and pain, her oversensitive pussy unable to do anything but take what they give her. Raven and Paige stand over me, their strap-ons bobbing against their bodies. They slip a couple of pillows beneath my hips, elevating me, opening me.

Paige's smile is knowing, almost predatory.

"Tell me, Ero," she says, her voice smooth and commanding. "Have you ever been pegged before?"

The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with implication and dark promise. Paige's eyes search my face, watching for the flicker of fear, the uncertainty. Behind her, Raven moves with deliberate purpose, retrieving a bottle of lube from the bag at the foot of the bed.

On the bench, Hazel continues to squirm and whimper, her cries rising in pitch as the vibrations intensify. The sight of her—flushed, bound, clearly overwhelmed—seems to fuel something darker in both Paige and Raven. Paige reaches down, trailing one finger along my inner thigh, her touch feather-light and deliberately teasing.

I pull against the silk scarves, but they hold me fast. I moan as tears slip down my cheeks, watching as Paige and Raven coat their phalluses with lube, then turn their attention to me. Their slick fingers breach my opening, stretching me, preparing me for what comes next. The sensation is strange—invasive, yes, but also somehow thrilling in its inevitability.

Hazel's cries reach a fever pitch, her body convulsing as the vibrations push her toward another orgasm. Paige glances over at the bench, drinking in the sight of Hazel's distress. A wicked idea takes shape behind her eyes, and she voices it without hesitation.

"Hey, Haze," Paige says, her tone conversational, almost casual. "Want to watch while we take Ero apart piece by piece?"

"Me first," Paige grins, and she kneels over me, positioning herself. The tip of her strap-on presses against my tight rim, and then she pushes forward with a grunt of effort.

Raven straddles my face, her thighs bracketing my head. Her pussy comes to rest against my mouth, and I can smell her arousal—musky and sharp. Her strap-on dangles obscenely, the lifelike testicles slapping against my forehead as she settles her weight on me.

The tip of Paige's strap-on breaches my opening, and a guttural moan escapes me. She doesn't stop, pushing deeper inch by deliberate inch, reveling in the exquisite drag of silicone against my inner walls. Above me, Raven grinds down, smearing her wetness across my lips and chin, her movements deliberate and commanding.

Hazel shrieks as the vibrator finds her most sensitive spot, and she cums—again and again—her body unable to stop the relentless assault on her inner walls. On the bed, Paige sets a brutal pace, pounding into me with single-minded focus. Each thrust drives a strangled cry from my throat, muffled by Raven's grinding pussy. The dual sensations of being filled and smothered push me closer and closer to the edge, my own climax building rapidly.

Raven tilts her head, catching Hazel's gaze in the mirror, and the connection between the three of them seems to intensify the pleasure coursing through all their bodies.

To be continued in chapter 10...