Delivered to the Pack

The baron's saliva dripped down Wednesday's cheek like a slug's trail, glistening in the candlelight as she trembled. The open door let in three thugs who rushed onto the bed where our heroine lay half-conscious.

The three men pounced on her like scavengers on a still-warm carcass. The first spread her thighs with mechanical brutality, his nails scraping against the damp skin where the Baron had left his purplish imprints. Wednesday felt a rough callus scrape the inside of her thighs before the pain was swept away by another penetration—wider, more bestial.

Another presented his penis to Wednesday's mouth.

• Happy birthday, little whore, suck it.

The third man began biting her nipples, his hard, swollen penis crushing her lips, forcing its way into her mouth as his teeth scraped against the salty skin. Wednesday choked, her throat contracting reflexively around the raw flesh that choked her breath. A musky, acrid smell filled her, mingled with the taste of sweat and pre-ejaculate.

The third man's fingers dug into Wednesday's hair, pulling her head back to **** his penis deeper into her throat. She felt the cartilage of his nose crush against the damp skin of her stomach, her tears and saliva dripping down the throbbing shaft that choked her. A coughing fit shook her body, but the man didn't loosen his grip, groaning with pleasure as his hips pounded against her face in a rhythmic, jerky motion.

The first man was fucking her as if she were nothing but a receptacle for semen; she moaned, her pleas stifled by the penis that violated her mouth. The third man lay down on the bed while the others lifted her, continuing to fuck her, and sodomized her in one swift motion. She gasped, her breath caught in her throat; her anus had not been prepared for such a thing.

Wednesday's cry broke into a muffled gurgle, her body wracked by brutal penetrations. The pain of the sodomy tore a series of hoarse moans from her, each thrust of the third man tearing at her unprepared muscle, as if a red-hot poker were being shoved into her.

Wednesday's body convulsed like a puppet being shaken by sadistic hands, each orifice violated simultaneously, her chair becoming a mere receptacle for their fury. The third man thrust his member deeper into her anus, a dull crunch tearing at her insides as a trickle of blood mingled with the sweat on her thighs.

The men came inside her, only to be replaced by another in a vicious cycle. Wednesday was losing control, reacting only to her bestial instincts, overflowing with semen that flowed from her mouth, her anus, her genitals.

Wednesday's bluish lips twisted around the member that plowed her throat, each deep thrust triggering a gag reflex that made her uvula vibrate against the intrusive flesh. The men, their faces contorted in animalistic grimaces, took turns.

Morticia, satisfied, organized the line of suitors.

• Don't worry, there will be enough for everyone. She belongs to you. She will satisfy you to the very last one.

She was becoming a pleasure machine, no longer existing as a living creature, merely the object of their perversity, a brutality that regularly groaned, shaking her with orgasmic spasms, transforming her into a sexual monster.

The men's raucous laughter mingled with Wednesday's wet gasps, her belly heaving under the thrusts that pierced her through and through. The umpteenth man, his face flushed, plunged his fingers into the young woman's hips to better plow her rectum with jerky strokes, each thrust tearing a hoarse sound from her already ravaged throat.

She felt the penises in her rectum and her vagina colliding within her; sometimes two men penetrated her at the same time, rekindling her pleasure and her pain.

The next man stepped forward, his calloused hands gripping her bruised hips as he **** his way into her already dilated opening. Wednesday's body arched involuntarily, a hoarse moan escaping her as his thick member burned into her torn flesh. The air was thick with sweat, blood, and the metallic scent of **** pleasure as he penetrated her mercilessly, his calloused fingers carving crescent moons into her pale skin.

In a final orgasm, Wednesday lost consciousness. However, Morticia kept her promise: each man ejaculated inside Wednesday, even while she was ****. When Wednesday regained consciousness, she was nothing but pain. Morticia, with a finger, collected some of the semen that trickled from her mouth and tasted it like a delicacy.

• Mmm, delicious, not bad, my girl, but you lost consciousness before me. I'd exhausted my line of deflowerers. I'll make sure to toughen you up.

Wednesday gasped, which caused semen to drip from her mouth, and she managed to say,

• Thank you, Mother. I wasn't expecting anything else.