She can't escape Trip and Jimmy

Max's thoughts floated around inside her like a tornado in slow motion. There were too many thoughts, too many things, and she desperately tried to get back control. She needed to focus because there was something she was supposed to do. Urgently. An order, and it involved... Sketchy. She remembered now.

She also remembered that she had had no actual intention of pleasuring neither Trip nor Jimmy. Max shuddered. She stared up at the cracked ceiling, breathing heavily, the aftertaste of Trip's salty, bitter cum still on her tongue. She was quite truly and literally fucked – in more than one way. The wood crate suddenly felt raw and rough, while Jimmy's sticky juices slowly started to dry on her belly.

For a brief moment she wondered if Alec's plan was in truth utterly pointless. „Break the curse“, he had said. „Up the ante“. Well, what could be a higher stake and more devastating than sucking and fucking Sketchy's friends? In his own apartment! While Sketchy himself was... wherever he was.

Max slowly closed her legs and looked at Jimmy. He was sitting next to Trip with a pleased grin on his face. She hoped the two of them were spent. They had to be, right? After what they had done to her – or rather: what she had done with them. Their dicks seemed rather flaccid in any case. All she had to do was escape this room, as quickly as possible, without having to listen to any other command. She needed to find Sketchy. Slowly, Max rose from the crate, staring at the two men as if eye contact could somehow tame the two men and prevent them from talking.

“You know, Trip, I still wonder,” Jimmy said, his words came out ever so slurred and his breathing was heavy. “What's the meaning of all this? Is this a bet that slut has to follow? Or is it... something in her brain? Hypnosis? A brain worm? A new kind of disease invented by crazy scientists, like in a movie?”

Not a command. Just questions. Max stood up, stared at the men like a deer stares at headlights. Run, she thought. That's what she should do. But instead, everything felt strangely slow, as if the whole room was filled with jelly. She put one foot in front of the next and started to walk.

“Let's find out,” Trip said.

Still no command.

“Grab your ankles, Max,” she heard Trip's voice saying. He said it almost casually. It did not really sound like a command. Yet it was one. Unmistakably.

Fuck.

Her body responded immediately, she froze in her tracks, her arms gliding down her legs, her hands closing around her ankles, presenting the boys a very explicit view of her backside. She heard Jimmy chuckle, and it sounded surprised.

“Stand on one foot, Max,” Trip added. She complied.

“Fuck man!,” Jimmy exclaimed, stunned. “That's not a bet or anything! Look how she follows your orders without hesitation. You say it, and – BOOM. Her body reacts. It's like... like...” He searched for words.

“Put that foot down and, stay like that and start fingering yourself,” Trip said, as if he wasn't listening to his friend. He had found a toy and he clearly was very eager to test what it could do.

Max stayed in that awkward position, her upper body bent over, her head between her legs, her left hand grabbing her left ankle, while her right arm rose to her nether lips. She wanted to scream and shout and tell to guys to go and fuck themselves, but instead – well, it was her, who started fucking, fingering herself. As ordered. Her index finger started to play with her clit, and within seconds, it seemed, she felt hot and horny again.

She heard Jimmy laughing. It sounded a bit hysterical. “Hey, there goes my conviction that I just fucked a wanton slut who couldn't resist my charms,” he chuckled. “But then again – who cares?”

Max bit her lips and a wailing whimper escaped her mouth. Despite the really humiliating situation, her body again had a mind of its own and started to heat up beyond description. There was a very soft squelching sound that indicated she was soaking wet while fingering herself.

“Man, look at that bitch!”, Trip seemed to enjoy the show. “Look at that, she's dripping!”

“Can we order her not to come?,” Jimmy wondered aloud. She still couldn't see them, could not see their faces, her vision was limited to the floor. “Try it,” answered Trip.

“Don't cum, bitch!,” Trip said. “That's an order.”

Max closed her eyes and sent a silent scream of rage into the void of her inner self. Her fingers still moved as if they obeyed not her, but somebody else's will, and she felt a climax approaching that she both dreaded and deeply longed for at the same time.

Yet it didn't arrive. Max's eyes rolled inwards as she yearned for the final push over the edge, her body shaking, shivering, her clitoris pulsating, her whole pelvis humming with desire. Nothing. No release.

She heard herself uttering a strange wailing mixture of whimper and moan.

The two men laughed and jeered. “That's! So! Awesome! Man!,” shouted Trip, and she suddenly felt him behind her, handing her a slap on her butt. She winced. “On your knees, Max!,” Trip said, and the fact that he used her real name somehow made it even more personal and more intimate and in an eerie way more humiliating than the casual use of “bitch” and other names they had called her earlier. She dropped to her knees.

“No, I meant: On all fours. Now.” Her body obeyed.

“Hey, you really have to be very precise with what you wish for here,” Trip chuckled. “Of course!,” Jimmy replied: “Don't you remember those fairy tales where the genie grants you a wish, but if you don't phrase it exactly, she will turn it against you or trick you or...”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jimmy?”
“Forget it.”
“You take the front, I take the back?”
“Sure thing.”

Max felt Trip grabbing her hips from behind and saw Jimmy looming over her.
“Open up, Max and look at me!,” ordered Jimmy, and she opened her lips and stared up at him with pleading eyes. Jimmy grinned down at her. His dick didn't look flaccid anymore, as he held it in his right hand. In fact, it seemed bigger than before. Then Trip entered her still dripping wet pussy from behind and Max let out a yelp which was muffled by Jimmys cock shoved right between her lips. He didn't stop until it reached her throat. Max gagged and panicked and then felt Jimmy's hand on her cheek. “No gag reflex, no biting. Just nice sucking,” he said.

And all of a sudden, the gag reflex was gone. Max stared up at Jimmy, partly because he had ordered it earlier, partly because she was dumbstruck how profound she had been altered. Whatever somebody ordered, her whole body seemed to comply perfectly. Where did this end? Could they order her not to feel any pain? No hunger? No tiredness? No...?

The fact that she was, right at this moment, taken by two guys from both sides, prevented her from continuing that thought. She gulped and sucked and massaged Jimmy's cock as good as she felt capable of, while Trip pumped his hard cock into her in a steady rhythm. She really, really needed to cum, badly, but the order from before still stood. Don't. And that's what her body did.

“Never thought you were such a trained deep throater, Max,” Jimmy laughed and pushed his cock deeper into her throat. She coughed and her eyes watered, but she still felt – nothing. No gag reflex, at least. She still had a pretty good feeling about how big Jimmy's cock was, and how it was sliding down her tongue deep into her throat. Behind her, Trip had started to slap her repeatedly, hooting and grunting, while thrusting into her. She felt like a completely powerless tool, like some kind of object or very mystical kind of living furniture. And there was still that overwhelming feeling of a climax that was almost upon her but somehow seemed completely out of reach.

“Please, let me come!,” she pleaded, but with Jimmy's cock in her mouth, she wasn't sure if they understood her at all. The words certainly were not recognizable. Instead, she heard Jimmy grunting. “Ugh, I think I'm cumming soon!” As if he would mirror and mock her plea, unaware of what she just asked for. She felt his hands reaching for her head and steering her movements, rocking her head back and forth to the rhythm he needed, while her hips were similarly held and controlled by Trip's arms. The control over her body was so complete that she shuddered. The two man had absolute power over what her body did, how it reacted and also literally over her head and hips by tight and firm grips of their hands. Maybe, at least, this ordeal, this strange paradox of humiliation and utter pleasure and bliss... and frustration of a denied orgasm would be over then.

“Wait!,” said Trip suddenly. “I have an idea!”