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Chapter 8: You're Only Delaying the Inevitable
Chapter 8
by 
ErosApostasia
Continued from chapter 7:
"Sorry won't save you now, Eros," Keila says, her voice dripping with amusement. "Not when you're reacting like this."
She delivers a rapid succession of lighter, stinging slaps to the outer edges of my buttocks, keeping the blood flowing and my skin hypersensitive. The rhythm is almost playful—sharp, bright impacts that make me gasp involuntarily.
Naomi, meanwhile, focuses entirely on her exploration. Her long brown finger circles my tight, puckered entrance with agonizing slowness, testing the resistance of my muscles. I feel the involuntary twitch of my sphincter as she applies pressure, and I can sense the small, knowing smirk playing on her full lips without even seeing it.
"Don't cum, Ero," Keila says, laughing softly. "Not yet. Don't you dare cum, or we will have to thrash you for it."
"Oh yes," Naomi adds, her voice low and deliberate. "We will have to punish our naughty man severely if he finds pleasure before we give him permission."
Chapter 8:
I am in agony. Keila slapping my bare cheeks, Naomi playing with my entrance, and I can't stop myself from humping Keila's lap. The satin swishes beneath me as I plummet toward the inevitable, my hips moving of their own accord.
Keila's laughter turns sharp and authoritative as she feels my hips bucking uncontrollably against her. She immediately stiffens her legs, creating a harder surface for me to grind against, making every stroke more intense and frustrating. Her hands grip my hips with bruising force, trying to pin me still.
"I said don't, Eros!" she snaps, her voice losing its playfulness and gaining a hard edge of command. "Control yourself!"
She delivers a series of punishing, heavy-handed slaps to the very center of my reddened cheeks, attempting to shock my system out of its climax.
Naomi moves in closer, her shadow falling over my arched back. She ignores my desperate movements, instead focusing her attention on my entrance with laser precision.
I feel warm lubrication dribble onto my pucker and hear the snap, snap of latex medical gloves being pulled on. Then pressure—erotic, uncomfortable, but also—
"AAAAIIIIEEEEEE!" I howl as Naomi pushes into me, her finger finding my prostate with devastating accuracy.
Naomi's long finger begins to stroke my prostate in a slow, inexorable come-hither gesture. Keila begins to spank me in rhythm, timing each stinging smack of my bottom with Naomi's curling finger. I gasp as Naomi inserts a second finger and continues to manipulate me like a hand puppet, pulling and pressing in ways that make my vision blur.
"Let's point that naughty penis somewhere a little safer, okay, Ero?" Keila says, her voice still playful despite the intensity. "I'm going to give him a time-out."
Giggling, her warm chocolate palm still spanking me, she opens her thighs, letting my diamond-hard member fall into their depths of satin cascading between them. Then she squeezes them back together, trapping me in a silky, erotic prison of warm satin.
I groan, tears forming in my eyes as I finally have a place to focus all of my frustrated arousal.
I gently hump Keila's thighs as she rubs them together, driving me closer and closer to the point of no return.
"Don't you dare, Ero," she shrieks with delight. "Don't you dare cum!"
She picks up a hairbrush and spanks me again and again. Naomi's slick fingers continue to probe me, stroking my prostate with surgical precision. I am in agony—caught between the need to move and the command to stay still.
Naomi's internal focus shifts entirely to the sensation of my prostate yielding beneath her gloved fingers. She curls her digits with ruthless efficiency, applying precise pressure that makes my vision blur further. She listens intently to the harmony of my gasps and Keila's rhythmic strikes, adjusting her pace to maximize the overwhelming sensory overload.
"Such a reactive little spot you have, Eros," Naomi murmurs, her voice low and vibrating near my ear. She curls her fingers harder, deliberately hitting the sweet spot to keep me teetering on the edge of disaster. "Let's see how much more you can take before you break."
Keila's trap is equally merciless. Her thighs clamp tighter around my trapped shaft, the friction of the satin building a maddening heat. She feels the frantic pulse of my cock against her inner leg, sensing the imminent explosion.
I exist in a fever dream, squirming over Keila's lap like a worm on a hook—Naomi's fingers to be exact. I hump Keila's satin-covered thighs, my body bucking on the edge of pain and pleasure as she paddles me with the brush, threatening to shatter me into a million pieces.
"Don't you do it!" Keila commands, her voice dangerous as she spanks me. Her satin-covered thighs rub together, deliberately trying to push me over the edge even as her words command the opposite.
"We'll tie you naked to the ceiling beams!" she cries.
Spank. Spank. Spank.
"We'll thrash every inch of your body with leather straps!"
Spank. Spank. Spank.
"You're only delaying the inevitable, Ero," Naomi whispers, playing me like a fiddle.
"No! No! No! No! No!" I scream, imagining the scene—dancing like a puppet as Naomi and Keila kiss my body with leather.
"Oh yes, Ero," Naomi says, grinning wickedly. "I've always wanted to whip a white man. It's going to happen. All you have to do is..." She puts her whole hand into my bottom, and with all four fingers and her thumb, she gently drums on my pulsing prostate.
To be continued in chapter 9...
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