Take the position

Izzy's arms shook as she tried to push herself up. The floor kept tilting beneath her palms, the wood grain swimming in and out of focus. She made it to her hands and knees once, but her elbows buckled, sending her cheek back against the cold boards with a soft exhale.

"Jesus, she's fucking useless like this," Paul muttered. He moved. His hand closed in her hair. The brown curls twisted around his fingers, and he pulled. Izzy's head snapped back. She groaned as he hauled her upward. Her spine curved. Her hands tried to find a hold, but found nothing. Then her knees were sliding across the floor as he dragged her bodily into position. "There. Stay like that," he said. He didn't let go of her hair. He held her, back bowed, ass in the air, face tilted toward the ceiling. "Stay."

Izzy couldn't move if she tried. Her heart pounded somewhere behind her ribs. Unlike her, Ward knew what was needed next. He lay down on the floor in front of her. His cock stood upright against his stomach, still slick from her mouth. He gave himself a single stroke before letting his hands fall to his sides. He didn't look at her face.

"Hold her," Paul instructed, and for a moment Izzy didn't understand who he was talking to. "Mina. Get behind her and hold her hips. She's going to fall over the second I push in."

Mina pranced over, her go-go boots clicking against the floor, and Izzy felt her friend's hands settle on her hipbones. Mina's fingers pressed into the soft skin above her hip bones. Izzy gasped. That short touch was more intimate than anything Paul or Ward had done all night. She leaned back into Mina without meaning to, like a cat seeking affection, but her friend didn't seem to notice. Izzy's head lifted, and there was Ward. She could see her reflection in his eyes. She was a small, distorted thing with mascara tracks and semen on her chin and forehead. Her cheeks flush with shame even as her cunt pulsed. She should have wiped her face.

Paul shifted onto his knees behind her. His hands landed on her ass, one on each cheek. He squeezed hard enough to hurt, spreading her open. She heard him spit, felt the wet heat of it land on her asshole, and then the blunt pressure of his thumb working it in. "Oh my God," she whined. Muscles budged that hadn't ever moved like that before. His thumb was in her ass. She tried to breathe, but her whole body was on edge. No, there wasn't a chance he would be able to fit. This wasn't going to...

Then Paul pushed. The head of his cock pressed against her asshole. He was too thick, too wide, too much, and her body clenched against him instinctively, trying to expel what it could not possibly accommodate. But Paul didn't wait for her to relax. He pushed harder, and the ring of her anus gave him what he wanted. Stars exploded in her eyes. She tried to scream. What came out was a gasp that spilled out of her with a line of spit. He sank deeper, inch by terrible inch, splitting her open from the inside. The pain was like nothing she had ever felt. It was a knife driven up her spine. Her hands clawed at the floor, nails scraping against the wood. Tears streamed down her face. She sobbed. Oh, God, it felt good. That wasn't right. She was crying tears of fucking joy, like the piece of ass they'd reduced her too.

He grunted. "Fuck, she's tight. Mina, hold her still. She's trying to crawl away."

But Izzy wasn't trying to crawl away. She was trying to push back onto him to take him deeper. Mina did just as she was told. The feeling of her fingers in her skin made Izzy moan. She wanted Mina to hold her tighter. Leave bruises, if possible. She wanted to feel this tomorrow, pressing on the marks to remember exactly how she got them.