Chapter Text
The worst part about this particular torture is it’s completely self-imposed.
If you stand still enough, you can just manage to ignore the weight inside you, so you volunteer yourself for vegetable-cutting duties. Your posture is the best it’s ever been as you keep your back completely straight and still, feet shoulder-width apart to avoid any unnecessary… pressure between your cheeks.
And that would be fine, you could do that for however long you needed - the problem comes when your boys become increasingly handsy with you. You realise then that they might be just as needy as you are, though you have no way to prove it since all five of them are masters of hiding what they actually feel.
Caleb swats your butt as he walks behind you and you have to fight the moan that would otherwise accompany your surprised gasp. Sylus’ fingers settle on your lower back when he reaches over you to grab something from the cabinets above, and Xavier sidles in close to your side with an arm around your waist to keep you close as he asks if he can help with food prep. When they’re gone, Rafayel drapes himself behind you, his hips flush with your ass as he ‘innocently’ watches what you’re doing before (mercifully) getting bored and disappearing off into his studio, while Zayne dutifully helps you clean up after yourself, but only after you give him a kiss for his efforts.
So by the time dinner is ready (at 3pm, as an early Easter dinner was tradition your entire childhood), you are restless.
You’ve debated more times than you can count fleeing to the bathroom and removing the plug, but then where would you put it? You couldn’t just leave it on the counter for anyone to find, that would be mortifying, and besides…
You’re enjoying it.
There’s something inherently thrilling about hiding this from not one, but five men as you all coexist around each other; as they give you sweet touches and kisses, completely unaware that the flush of your skin is not only because of their attentions, but the sex toy you’ve had wedged inside you for hours now.
Although now that you’re sat at the head of the table opposite Rafayel, you can’t stop shifting in your seat. Zayne is to your immediate right with Sylus next to him, and Caleb to your left beside Xavier, all of you passing various bowls and plates of food around to fill your plates.
“So,” Sylus says after a long moment of contented silence only broken by hums of appreciation as you all dig into your dinner, “why are you so fidgety, Sweetie? Is there something on your mind?”
You freeze mid-bite, your breath catching before you slowly resume chewing, making a point of taking as long as possible before you swallow and smile, hoping it's convincing. “Something on my - no?”
You’re lying.
They know you are.
They can tell by the way your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and the way your pupils have dilated, your fingers flexing on your cutlery as though you can’t stay still.
“Baby,” Caleb coos softly as he leans over the table to sweep some stray strands of hair from your face, “you’ve been acting antsy all day. If something’s wrong, we need to know.”
“Nothing… Nothing is wrong.”
Zayne sighs from where he sits on the other side of you, his hand covering yours on the table. “You need to tell us, Darling. This arrangement can only work if we’re all honest.”
You’re so dumbfounded by their assumption that you can’t speak, which Xavier takes to mean you’re still resisting; that you're simply nervous to tell them the truth.
“If you’re uncomfortable with this, with us, we won’t be mad.”
You blink at him, your mind sluggishly catching up to what he’s implying - it’s almost as though you’re not thinking with your brain anymore, instead only focussed on the pulsing between your legs.
“Yeah, Cutie. If it’s too much for you, then we can just -”
“No!” You say, sharper than intended. “No. That’s - that’s not it. It’s not too much for me, I promise. I can handle you all.”
The double entendre in your words makes you groan inwardly. But of course they don’t understand why - because they don’t know that right now, your wriggling is making that damned plug rub against you in the most sinful of ways.
“Then what’s wrong?” Sylus says, the sternness in his voice only making you throb more especially when paired with Zayne’s equally as commanding,
“You won’t be leaving this table until you tell us.”
You moan.
Not obscenely, not too loudly, but it’s enough. Enough to make their eyes widen minutely, before a disbelieving laugh leaves Caleb.
“Oh, baby… Is that what it is? Do you feel neglected?”
You can’t help yourself.
You nod.
And that’s all he needs to scoot his chair back, patting his thighs.
“C’mere.”
Your food is promptly forgotten as you basically throw yourself into his arms, his hands grabbing your thighs to make you straddle him as he kisses you slowly.
You completely lose yourself in it. You melt into him, your arms draped over his shoulders while your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. He responds in kind and you can feel him smile before he starts nibbling and licking at your lips to ask for entry, which you happily oblige.
You’re so lost in the kiss, in the way his tongue moves against yours, that you don’t even notice that his hands are travelling up your legs, your skirt bunching over his wrists as he flips it up to grant him access to the plump flesh of your ass cheeks.
“Cutie,” Rafayel says, the bewilderment in his tone tearing you away from the heated make-out session. “What… What is that?”
Your stomach drops.
Oh shit.
You’d just been thankful to be kissed like you were water and Caleb was parched, so much so that you hadn’t realised your little secret was now on full display, your pretty crotch-less lace underwear doing little to hide the fluffy pom-pom sticking out of your rear.
“Huh?” Asks Caleb, peering over your shoulder to meet the frankly amazed gazes of his girlfriend’s boyfriend’s while you bury your face against his neck, trying to hide from your own depravity. “What are you talking about?”
“Sweetie, how cruel. Maybe you should get up and show him, hmm?” Sylus says; from his voice alone you can tell he’s enjoying your embarrassment immensely, stealing a peak at him that only confirms your suspicions.
“Stand up.”
Zayne’s sharp instruction makes you freeze on the spot, a shiver running down your spine before you manage to kick yourself into action. You stumble off Caleb’s lap, subconsciously flattening your skirt back down to cover your modesty.
As if you had any of that left after what they’ve just seen across the dinner table.
Zayne beckons you closer until you both stand at the head of the table, your gaze avoiding the intensity of his.
“You,” he murmurs, his fingers capturing your chin to force you to look at him, “are a very bad bunny.”
If you weren’t so terrified of moving the plug even more, you think you’d fall to your knees at his voice alone.
Alas you don’t, but you do let him turn you around so that your back is facing the men still sat at the table.
His hands skim down your back, relishing in the little shiver that rolls up your spine, before he ventures beneath the skirt of your dress and lifts the skirt up, holding it in place at the base of your back that he then pushes down slightly, encouraging you to bend.
Your cheeks burn but you do as you’re silently told to, hanging your head as you bend at the hips, letting them see the fluffy white puffball between your cheeks.
Maybe if you were focusing on anything other than your own heartbeat that pounds in your ears, you’d hear the sharp breath Caleb sucks in - or the chuckle that rumbles in Sylus’ chest when Xavier’s eyes zone in on the plug, a flash of carnal desire darkening his expression.
Suddenly, no one is interested on the food still sitting on the table.
Especially when without warning, Zayne spanks your right ass cheek. It surprises you, a strangled whine escaping your lips before you can stop it, shifting your weight to try and ease the tension rapidly building inside you at being watched so intently by five men.
“How long have you been keeping this a secret then, Cutie?” Rafayel asks, his voice alarmingly calm despite the way his ears and cheeks are painted pink and his knuckles are white from where he holds onto the table, as though he’s seconds away from launching himself at you.
Zayne allows you to stand straight again (only after spanking your other cheek for good measure), your hands twisting and fiddling with whatever you can find while you pointedly stare at the table to avoid the intensity of their gazes,
“I… Well, I’ve had it in since - since this morning.”
“This morning?” Caleb repeats, looking you up and down in complete disbelief.
“That’s dangerous, Sweetie.” Sylus gently chides, concern written over his face. “You shouldn’t do something like that when you’re inexperienced -”
“Who said I’m inexperienced?”
The mood shifts again. You see it in the way both Xavier and Caleb’s expressions harden, jaws ticking, while Rafayel tilts his head to the side with a little scowl.
Sylus, meanwhile, exchanges a look with Zayne who still stands beside you before smirking at you,
“Do tell, Sweetie. Who have you used these with before us?”
Your jaw drops, completely mortified.
“I didn’t mean - God,” you groan, covering your face with your hands. “I didn’t mean I’ve used them with other people! I just… It came a few weeks ago and I’ve been… practising with it.”
“Practising for what?” Caleb asks with a knowing smirk, at the same time as Xavier says,
“A few weeks ago? When, exactly?”
You freeze.
Exposed. Caught. His eyes pinning you in place so you have no choice but to answer honestly, fearful of the consequences if you try to lie,
“Erm… The night you came over?”
You phrase it like a question, subconsciously leaning closer to Zayne as if he’ll protect you from the unbridled storm brewing in Xavier’s eyes.
He doesn’t. Just stands there with a smug little smile when Xavier pushes his chair back, standing to stalk towards you.
You daren’t break eye contact, your chin lifting as he gets closer to you, forcing you to crane your neck since he towers over you. His fingers find your jaw, featherlight, eyes flicking to Zayne over your head before returning to you.
“You mean to tell me,” he starts, his mouth dropping to the side of your neck, “that I came over, trying to be loving and sweet and doting, concerned for my sweet girl’s wellbeing when she told me she was on her period…”
You wince when you remember your not-so-innocent lie, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to regulate the sounds that threaten to fall from them at his attention to your pulse-point.
“Only for her to have this,” He presses his palm against your rear, your body going rigid as it pushes the plug slightly deeper, “in her the whole time? Using this for pleasure when I was right there?”
He isn’t really mad at you - you can tell from the way his lowered voice has a teasing lilt to it, and the way you can hear the smile in his voice and feel it against your neck as he torments you.
“Disrespectful isn’t it, Xavie?” Rafayel calls, grinning when you glower at him, his fingers rapping against the table. “And here we thought our girl was an innocent little thing.”
“M’sorry,” you whine, even though you’re really not, “but - but last time was so good, ‘nd I missed - I missed all of you. Together.”
“Is that what you were practising for, Pips?” Caleb asks, his elbow on the table and his chin rested in his palm, watching you with equal parts fondness and desire.
“Mhm.” You nod then turn your face into Xavier’s fluffy hair to hide your embarrassment.
Zayne’s steady fingers brush against your shoulders before holding you firmly. You know that he’s trying to ease your bashfulness, but in reality it only makes everything so much worse - because Xavier is still going at your neck like a needy vampire.
“Darling, I understand that you wanted to… Prepare. But why today? Why torment yourself by leaving it in for so long?”
“Because it was going to be the prize,” you groan, “but then you big idiots drew the damn game so I couldn’t -”
“A prize?” Sylus echoes, clearly confused at how you wearing a plug would be considered a prize for them.
“Mhm. Whoever won would get to do whatever they wanted to me.”
The silence that follows is palpable.
Then, your world turns upside-down and you shriek, completely disoriented as Caleb throws you over his shoulder.
You briefly question how he already knows where Rafayel’s bedroom is, despite focussing all his attention on the studio during the egg hunt.
Has he been here before?
Now that you think about it, all of them seem a little more familiar with Rafayel’s house than you would expect five former-enemies to be. You raise your head, palms flat on Caleb’s back as you peer at your partners who follow closely behind,
“Wait. Have you guys..?”
“Have we what, Sweetie?” Sylus asks, his right eye gleaming in a way that tells you he already knows what you're thinking.
Your mouth goes completely dry and your expression must give away your thoughts because Rafayel snickers, he and Sylus exchanging a mischievous glance that you’ll be sure to unpack later.
The only reason you don’t ask more questions now is because you’re soon being unceremoniously thrown onto Rafayel’s obnoxiously large bed, the wind knocked out of you as you bounce a few times.
It would be fun, it would make you laugh, but instead a strangled noise sounds in your throat when the movement shifts the plug inside you yet again.
When you look up, you feel like you might pass out at the sight of them.
Stood around the foot of Rafayel’s bed, watching you with expressions that range from amused to feral - like they’re caught between mocking you and pouncing on you.
“We were going to go slow with you,” Zayne murmurs as he looks you up and down, the coolness you’re used to from him replaced with a heat that makes you dizzy, “we were trying to be gentlemen.”
“Wanted you to be comfortable,” purrs Rafayel, using the fingers on one hand to expertly flick his belt buckle open, the sound making you sit up a little straighter while anticipation buzzes down your spine. “Wanted to make sure we did this right.”
Xavier plants a knee on the bed, reaching over to caress your left ankle gently. “We wanted to treat you like a princess. You remember how good we made you feel on Valentines?”
You nod, unable to trust your voice, fearful it would betray just how devastatingly horny they make you. Especially when they look down at you like they’re disappointed; like they want to teach you a lesson.
“We were taking our time, weren’t we?” Caleb muses, and the others hum in affirmation. “To make sure we didn’t rush into anything, to make sure you got spoiled like you deserve.”
Sylus mimics Xavier’s posture on the opposite side of you, his hand curling around your other ankle.
“And yet,” he croons, before yanking your ankle so hard you’re forced onto your back, a little yelp escaping you as he drags you to the edge of the bed, the movement ruching your dress up to the tops of your thighs, “here you are, replacing us with some cheap toy, getting off to that instead of us?”
You scramble, pushing yourself up on your elbows to glower at him, defiance sparking in your eyes even as you fight back a smile.
Because you know what this is - you know what Sylus is giving you by taunting you and manhandling you like this.
It’s a chance to set the pace. A chance to indirectly tell them exactly what you want, the other four paying rapt attention to your response.
So you lift your chin stubbornly before saying,
“Not my fault I had to resort to pleasuring myself. I thought at least one of you would get the hint.” You sigh wistfully, cocking your head to the side as you glance between Sylus and Xavier, the latter of which has tightened his grip on your other ankle so much that your foot is starting to feel a little fuzzy.
“I guess it is my fault, actually,” you say after a long moment of faux-consideration, "for assuming you guys have more than one collective braincell in those empty heads of yours.”
It’s a ridiculous jab, and they know just as well as you do that it’s a complete lie. You know that they’re smarter than they are attractive (which is quite the feat), and are oftentimes a few steps ahead of even you - not that you’ll ever admit that to their faces.
They know you’re playing a game. You know they do, if only by the barely suppressed smiles that threaten to pull their lips up, endeared by your blatant stubbornness.
And maybe a little excited to put you in your place.
Something Xavier and Sylus immediately do by pulling your legs apart, their vice-like grip unyielding on your ankles. You gasp sharply at the sudden exposure, face burning when Rafayel crawls onto the bed behind you, his clever fingers grabbing the hem of your dress to pull it over your head before throwing it somewhere to the side as though the garment offends him.
You are left in your lingerie, your back pressed to Rafayel’s clothed chest as you squirm beneath their gazes.
The way they look at you, as if they’re moments away from devouring you, makes you try to cover yourself with your hands, shy under their intense scrutiny. It’s futile though, Rafayel’s arms looping under yours to keep you firmly in place, while Caleb and Zayne take their places on the bed either side of you.
You are surrounded.
Just like you were on Valentines Day, but this is different; this time you’ve provoked them, their adoration replaced with an open hunger that makes your stomach lurch and your core throb.
“You like it when we look at you like this?” Rafayel purrs in your ear, nosing the shell of it. “You like it when you’re at our mercy?”
“‘Course she does.” Caleb hums, his left hand splaying over your exposed stomach just to feel your shiver, “with that attitude of hers, she’s practically begging for it.”
“Bad bunny,” Xavier says as he lifts your foot, his lips brushing against your ankle so gently that the touch makes your skin goose-pimple, “provoking us just to get a reaction.”
“And to think,” Zayne murmurs, leaning down until his lips brush against yours, “if you’d have simply asked, you would have gotten what you wanted a long time ago.”
You don’t reply, not verbally at least. You can’t, not when his mouth locks over yours at the same time Caleb’s fingers ghost over your exposed labia, your lips parting in a gasp that allows Zayne’s tongue to slide against yours.
Sylus and Xavier, meanwhile, trail their mouths up the inside of each of your legs, nipping and grazing at your sensitive skin with their teeth until you’re wriggling and writhing in their firm hold. Rafayel laves the side of your neck with his tongue, and Caleb has taken to sliding a finger up and down your folds with an infuriatingly light pressure that makes you huff in indignation as you try (and fail) to grind your hips up towards him.
It’s not enough.
He knows it’s not enough.
“Stop - stop teasing,” you groan when Zayne finally parts from your lips, only to tend to the other side of your neck, both his and Rafayel’s hands coiled in your hair to keep your head tilted back, granting them both full access to the column of your throat.
Caleb ghosts his free hand over your jaw, his eyes searching yours for a moment.
That’s when you hear it.
Kissing.
Between your legs, something sloppy and fierce and peppered with breathy little growls that you know belong to Xavier and Sylus.
But when you try to move your head, Rafayel and Zayne tighten their grip on your hair, earning a small whimper that makes them smirk against your neck.
Caleb chuckles as he takes in your expression of despair, your brows knitted together and your hips squirming with renowned fervour, desperate to see what Sylus and Xavier are doing to each other.
“You really wanna watch them that bad, huh?” Caleb croons, but just as you’re about to answer he sinks his middle finger into your heat without warning, delighting in the strangled cry that leaves your throat. Not from pain, but from surprise - and from how tight it feels.
Even though it’s only one finger, even though you know you can take more - the plug in your rear is heightening every sensation, every shallow thrust of his single digit sending you reeling.
“That’s too bad.” Rafayel growls in your ear, biting the lobe gently. “You’re gonna take what we give you, and you’re gonna like it. Aren’t you, Cutie?”
“She is.” Zayne answers, his eyes flickering down to the two men who are now ravaging each other’s mouths - not that you have the privilege of seeing it. “She’s dripping, isn’t she?” He asks, the question directed at Caleb who nods in response,
“Mhm. Soaked. Poor bunny doesn’t know what to do with herself.”
“Can you stop - stop talking and just fuck me already?!” You attempt to growl, though it comes out more as a breathy plea. You’re so wound up, so unbearably horny from your self-inflicted torture that you don’t even want foreplay; you just want them inside you, fucking you as hard as they possibly can.
They know that’s what you want.
Which is why they don’t give it to you.
Caleb retracts his hand and your sound of complaint morphs into a yelp when he lands an open-palmed smack on your slick folds, Rafayel breathing out a laugh when your entire body jolts.
“Stop being a brat.” He chastises with a click of his tongue, “or you’ll get nothing at all.”
Then Zayne, brushing a surprisingly tender thumb over your cheek, “You want to be good for us, don’t you? That’s why you dressed up all pretty, that’s why you prepared yourself, right? Aren’t you our good girl?”
Even Rafayel inhales sharply behind you, Zayne’s hypnotic words having an affect on him too if the hardness that presses into your back is anything to go by.
You look between your two childhood friends for a moment, searching their hardened expressions before nodding as much as the fingers in your hair allow.
“Words, Cutie.” Rafayel lilts in your ear, pressing a soft kiss just below it.
“Yeah,” you manage to whisper even though your face burns with embarrassment, “I… I wanna be good.”
They’re on you like flies to honey.
Rafayel turns your head towards him, claiming your mouth in a passionate kiss while Caleb and Zayne lower themselves to your chest, pushing the lace bralette down your tits to expose your nipples that they immediately latch onto, all tongues and teeth while their hands travel downwards to each grab one of your thighs, wrenching them further apart.
With the extra assistance, Sylus and Xavier finally part from each other and instead turn their attention to you. Xavier is first, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit then sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. He hums against you, the vibration ripping a moan from your throat that is swallowed by Rafayel’s talented tongue.
Sylus, meanwhile, laps at your entrance, drinking your nectar as though he needs it to survive before burying himself against your glistening cunt.
You’re not sure if it’s intentional (it probably is) when his fervent licking inadvertently pushes his chin against the fluffy base of the plug, causing it to sink further inside you. But the way you gush around his tongue makes him groan and do it again, occasionally separating from you just to transfer the taste of your juices to Xavier via a sloppy French kiss where neither maintain dominance for very long.
“Please,” you manage to whimper when Rafayel finally lets you part from him to breathe, your lips plump from where he had bitten and sucked them into his mouth, “want - need you to fuck me, wanted it for so long…”
“Shh, Cutie.” He croons, the other men too absorbed in licking and sucking and biting at every erogenous zone they can find to answer you, “just gotta make you cum first, okay? Gotta make sure our greedy bunny is ready for us…”
“I am ready,” you weakly protest, a ragged gasp leaving you when Xavier’s teeth graze your pulsing clit, “been - been ready all day, please…”
Sylus lifts his head, one of his hands carding through Xavier’s hair to hold him in place (which he surprisingly doesn’t resist), while the other circles your leaking entrance that clenches around nothing at the featherlight touch,
“Since you asked nicely…” He purrs, and you meet his eyes just as he pushes his two middle fingers into you to the knuckles, your back arching off the bed as a moan rips free from your throat.
Your movement pushes your chest further into Caleb and Zayne’s mouth and the pair groan in unison, their hold on your inner thighs becoming as bruising as the marks they seem intent on leaving all over your breasts. You know that by the end of tonight your skin will be a roadmap of their desire, and the thought sends a thrill down your spine.
“Fuck,” you hiss when Sylus curls his fingers, the pads of them finding that squishy spot inside of you and grinding relentlessly against it with each thrust. The knuckles of his hand push against the plug each time which, coupled with Xavier’s incessant sucking of your clit, has you close to the edge in mere minutes.
“I - fuck, feels so… good… Can’t, mmf…”
Rafayel swallows the words that tumble from your open mouth, your hands pulling Caleb and Zayne’s hair to the point of being painful. They detach from you, watching as you come undone and murmuring soft words of encouragement as Xavier and Sylus ease you through your orgasm with their fingers and mouths,
“That’s it baby, well done…” says Caleb.
“Such a good girl,” echoes Zayne, “cumming so fast for us. You needed this, didn’t you?”
You nod quickly now that their hands have freed your hair, eyes glazed over as you stare up at them.
Overstimulated? Sure.
Needing more? Absolutely.
They can see it written over your face; the way your eyes dart across their bodies, flitting to each of them as if frightened they’ll do what they did last time and end the night here.
But then you’re dragged backwards and Sylus replaces Rafayel behind you, his back against the headboard while he pulls yours into his now-bare chest (you don’t remember him taking off his sweater - was that Xavier’s doing?) before hooking each of your legs over his knees, bending his to keep you open for the other’s to ogle at.
You’re beyond embarrassment now, chest heaving as his large hands knead at your breasts, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“Who do you want first, Kitten?”
And really, how are you supposed to make such an impossible decision? You don't think you could decide under regular circumstances, let alone when just seconds ago you were cumming so hard you saw stars.
“I - I wanted more than one at once -”
“I know, Sweetie,” he croons, “but don’t you think it’d feel nice to be fucked while it's still inside you?”
Your mouth opens but no words come out, your brain short-circuiting at his suggestion.
Is he going to hold you while someone else fucks you?
You get your answer when Xavier settles between your legs, his pants and briefs abandoned in a puddle on the floor along with his sweater. He is unfazed by your blatant staring, and your hands that immediately reach out to grope his defined shoulders, earning a stifled chuckle from the man behind you.
“I don’t think she picked who she wanted,” Sylus teases and Xavier immediately replies,
“It’s only fair. Since she denied me the last time she was wearing this.”
His fingers brush against the base of the plug as he twists it a little, a choked sound leaving you when he presses his erection against your cunt that’s sodden with a mixture of your arousal and his and Sylus’ saliva.
“I wasn’t wearing this one!” You protest, “It was smaller, I pro-fuck!”
You don’t get to finish your sentence.
Not when he sinks into you in one fluid thrust, his hands pushing against the plushness of your thighs that are still held open by Sylus’ legs.
It burns a little, but the sting is so delicious that your head falls back onto Sylus’ shoulder, your walls clenching around Xavier’s impressive length as though your body never wants him to leave.
And yet he still manages to pull halfway out, before slamming into you once more.
The sound you make echoes off the walls and the tall ceiling, coupled with the lewd squelch of your arousal that feels like it gets louder with each of Xavier’s punishing thrusts.
“You’re so tight, baby…” He growls, lowering himself to claim your mouth in a kiss that’s more teeth than tongue, while you fight to remain somewhat cognitive enough to return the gesture.
“Imagine how tight she’d be with another inside her,” Sylus coos and both you and Xavier whine, the sound barely muffled by each other’s mouths.
You don’t register the mattress dipping as the other (now nude) men settle either side of you, Rafayel and Caleb to your right and Zayne to your left, his cold fingers turning Sylus’ jaw to kiss him eagerly.
The crime-lord reciprocates, sighing into Zayne’s mouth as he continues to hold you open for Xavier, who is fucking into you as though he’s delirious and you are his only chance at sanity.
Then you hear it - filthy words being murmured into Rafayel’s ear, encouraging both you and Xavier to turn your heads to look to the source of the sound.
Caleb has his fingers curled around the base of the artists cock, his nose pressed into his temple as he mutters,
“Look at them. You wish that was you, yeah? Wish you were fucking her? Or d’you wish he was fucking you?”
If you weren’t so drunk on Xavier’s cock, maybe you’d question when the hell this development happened. When did they became so comfortable with each other that they were making out and touching each other freely, as though it was the most natural thing in the world? It’s a complete 180 from their behaviour months ago, but it’s so mesmerising that you can’t look away.
Xavier is quickly losing his composure, his thrusts becoming messy and unrestrained. You choke on every breath that you take, your moans borderline hysterical as he fucks into you with abandon, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each piston of his hips before he pants against your lips,
"Baby... Princess, m'gonna cum in you. Can't stop, y'feel so good..."
You just whine in response, but it's your kiss that sends him over the edge. A barely muffled moan leaves him as his hips stammer, thrusting once, twice, before he empties himself inside of you, his balls snug against the fluffy plug.
“M’sorry,” he strains out, forehead touched to yours, “wanted - wanted to do that for weeks now.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you manage, your airy voice betraying how dazed you feel. “Wanted you, too.”
For a moment, the pair of you breathe against each other. You’re so content that you almost forget that Sylus is still holding you open while he kisses Zayne, and that Caleb is meanly fisting Rafayel’s aching cock.
But then your eyes fall to them again and your cunt clenches around Xavier’s softening member so hard at the sight that he whimpers. Then, quietly, you murmur as though you're in a trance, “need more, please…”
Who are they to deny you?
Xavier pulls out of you despite how hard you try to keep him inside. You are then flipped over; face down in front of Caleb and Rafayel, ass yanked into the air by Sylus while cold fingers that must belong to Zayne flutter around the fluffy tail snugly between your cheeks.
Your rear hole trembles and you would bury your face into the silky sheets to hide your embarrassment, if not for the tantalising view of Caleb’s hand flying over Rafayel’s leaking cock.
“C’mon, Pip. Help him out, would’ya? Poor guy is so needy…”
“Fuck you, Caleb, I’ll -”
Whatever threat he’s about to make dies in his throat when you inch your way forward, your face nuzzling against the base of his cock and your tongue flicking out to lap at the underside, eager for anything to distract you from Zayne’s curious fingers.
Rafayel tries to move his hands to your hair but finds himself unable, courtesy of Caleb grabbing his wrists to hold his arms firmly at his sides. He peers over Rafayel’s shoulder at you, watching as you bat your eyelids up at them before taking Rafayel's swollen tip into your mouth, making sure to rub your tongue back and forth over the head before sinking lower.
Zayne chooses that moment to gently tug the plug free.
Your entire body convulses, both of your holes twitching in full view of the other three men who sit behind you, watching the way you wriggle in discomfort now that the heavy weight is removed from you. Even Xavier, now spent and sleepy from his recent orgasm, feels himself twitch at the sight.
You barely hear the soft click of a bottle cap opening before something cold and slippery dribbles onto your asshole, making you gasp around the cock in your mouth.
“Shh, Sweetie.” Sylus coos, his hands smoothing over your rear cheeks before spreading them apart, “Zayne is just gonna prep you a bit more, alright?”
You moan in affirmation, the sound gargling in your throat as you take Rafayel deeper, deeper, until your nose nestles against the base, throat spasming as you try your hardest not to gag.
“Fuck, Cutie,” Rafayel breathes, teetering on the edge of self-restraint, trying desperately not to thrust up into your mouth, “so - so good…”
Then a hand that doesn’t belong to Rafayel or Caleb settles on the back of your head, pulling you up half-way before encouraging you back down.
Xavier.
It’s filthy, degrading, to let yourself be controlled like this. Not that he’s really controlling you; more-so guiding you, his hold not hard enough that you couldn’t pull away if you wanted to.
But you don’t want to.
Not even when Zayne’s finger sinks into your asshole, sliding in easily with the generous amount of lube he used. He’s quickly able to add another, scissoring to stretch you open while Sylus slides his head and shoulders underneath you to allow him to lick and lap at your clit; not enough to bring you to orgasm, but enough to distract you from how deep Zayne’s digits thrust into you, over and over again.
Soon, you’re just as wrecked as Rafayel is, your hips writhing around in the air as you take him into your mouth at the speed Xavier sets for you. Your artist’s head is tipped back, the newly exposed column of his throat already being taken advantage of by Caleb who bites and sucks as though completely focussed on torturing the poor Lemurian.
But his eyes?
They stay fixed on you, ultraviolet pinning you in place as yours roll back in your head when Sylus pushes his fingers into your cunt, the dual sensation of him and Zayne’s preparation driving you completely insane.
You pull away from Rafayel to plead, your words slurred from the way you lave at his head, unable to keep yourself off him for long,
“M’ready. Please, please fuck me, I don't wanna wait anymore. Can’t wait anymore. Please…”
A moment of silent conversation passes between your boys. Maybe they’re debating who should go where, or maybe they’re daring the others to act first, but you don’t care. You take the opportunity to crawl up Rafayel’s body, perching in his lap before seating yourself on his cock in one fluid movement that tears a strangled moan from his throat.
Zayne settles behind you, his hands steady on your waist as he encourages you to grind in Rafayel’s lap, his generously lubed cock sliding between your cheeks.
But then he catches on your unoccupied hole and you freeze, breath stuttering when you realise what’s about to happen.
Immediately, Rafayel ceases his shallow thrusts, rising up on his elbows to look you right in the eye.
“Breathe, Cutie. We’ll go slow. Won’t we?”
The question is aimed at Zayne, who plants a tender kiss to your neck while his thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips, “of course. You just tell us if it’s too much, ok? We don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” You manage after a moment, one hand moving to touch Rafayel’s cheek while the other reaches behind you to caress the back of Zayne’s head, “I know you won’t. I trust you.”
“Focus on me, ok?” Rafayel says, and that’s when you feel it.
The blunt head of Zayne’s cock, pushing against the tight ring of muscle that previously held your silly bunny tail in place.
And surprisingly… It doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.
Or at all, really.
It’s mostly the same discomfort you felt when you tried the plug for the first time, intensified tenfold due to the sheer size of the man sinking his way into you.
And worsened by the fact that Rafayel is nestled snugly inside you, his cock twitching as your walls tighten to accommodate the cock occupying your rear.
There’s a moment where the three of you just breathe. A moment where they are completely still and you take deep breaths to acclimatise to the sudden fullness.
Then you move.
It’s minute really, a tiny grind of your hips, but still the action makes you gasp. You hang your head, hair falling over your face as you gyrate once more, a long moan drawn from deep within your chest.
That moan is all they need.
Their rhythm is clumsy at first, hips stuttering as they try to match each other, but when they do?
You realise you have no hope of maintaining your sanity.
Zayne pulls you flush against him, your back arched and your tits bouncing as he and Rafayel synchronise their thrusts, fucking into you slow but deep, his large hand settling over your throat. Not choking, not restricting; just holding you firmly in place, feeling the way your body trembles in his grasp as though you’re already fighting your inevitable orgasm.
Which you are.
Because this feeling - the feeling of being stuffed to the brim - makes you ascend to another plane of existence.
You have no thoughts beyond the feeling of their thick cocks dragging in and out of you, no desire except for them to keep fucking you as though their lives depend on it. Zayne’s free hand slides down your tummy before his middle and ring finger press against your clit, your body spasming in their arms at the contact.
Rafayel’s moans are delicious, a melody of lust and need as he feels Zayne’s cock with each thrust, the thin barrier inside you doing little to reduce friction his grinding hips provide.
Zayne doesn’t fare much better, though he is less vocal about it. But maybe that has something to do with his teeth that have sunk into your shoulder that makes you keen loudly, clenching around the cocks driving in and out of you so tightly it makes both men groan in unison.
“You’re so tight - fuck - so perfect, Darling.” Zayne growls into your bruised skin, flattening his tongue over the mark he made. “Look at what you do to us. What you do to him.”
You force your eyes open to obey, drinking in the sight of Rafayel’s heaving chest and flushed skin, sweat shining on his torso like the prettiest of scales. His hands are bruising on your waist, pulling you down onto him as he chases his own climax inside you.
“Ah shit, baby,” he breathes, pupils blown wide as he watches the way your chest jiggles beneath the pretty lace with each thrust, “m’gonna cum in you baby, you ready for it? M’gonna cum so hard…”
“Yes,” you hiss, trying your best to meet his thrusts with your own gyrating hips, “Raf-fy, please… Fuck, please cum in me, please, need it, need all of it, ahm~”
Zayne turns your head to kiss you, effectively swallowing your plea while Rafayel’s thrusts become erratic, shallow, uncontrolled, his hands yanking your hips down until they’re flush with his. He twitches inside you as he cums, his head thrown back and eyes scrunched shut as a groan forces its way through his teeth, his body jerking a few times as he empties himself.
That sets you off.
The pressure on your clit combined with Rafayel’s whines born from oversensitivity as Zayne continues to drill into you is too much to take. It throws you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly that you gasp in surprise, caught mid-inhale as you cum around Rafayel’s wilting cock, earning yet another whimper that only makes your insides spasm again.
And Zayne, now that you’ve reached your second climax of the evening, lets himself fall over the edge, too.
His orgasm is much more controlled than Rafayel’s his thrusts not quite as bruising even as they lose their rhythm, pelvis flush with your asscheeks when he finally spills his seed inside of you, a soft moan muffled by the skin of your neck that he’s buried his face into.
For a moment the three of you stay in place, panting and twitching in the afterglow of your orgasms.
But then you come back to earth just as Zayne pulls out, cum leaking from your hole and onto the sheets (and Rafayel) below.
You can’t bring yourself to care, though; not when you’re deposited into Sylus’ lap, the white-haired man unbothered by Zayne and Rafayel’s release slicking up his cock.
If anything, he enjoys it - since it only makes thrusting up into you that much easier.
“There you go,” he purrs as your entire body shudders at the intrusion, your sensitive walls fluttering around him, “such a good girl, letting us fuck you like this.”
“One after the other,” Caleb murmurs from behind you, taking your hair in his hand and pulling lightly until you look over your shoulder at him, “this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”
You nod as best as you can, trying your best to remain cognitive even though you’ve just had one of the most intense orgasms of your life, not to mention the fact that Sylus is lazily fucking up into your cunt as though he has all the time in the world.
When Caleb pushes in, you see stars.
He’s lubed himself up generously, but that doesn’t stop the stretch. He isn’t longer than Zayne, but he is a little thicker - and that makes all the difference, especially when Sylus is the person he’s sharing you with.
You are bent forward, Sylus’ head against Rafayel’s pillows and his arms firmly around your waist, chest-to-chest while Caleb eases into you, inch by torturous inch.
“So good, Sweetie,” he murmurs with a kiss to your temple, “you take us so well.”
“She was made for this,” Caleb manages, his voice strained with how hard he’s holding himself back. “Made for us, weren’t you?”
You nod eagerly, your hips grinding despite yourself. “Yes. Made for - for all of you. Need you.”
That’s enough for Caleb.
His hips retract before snapping forward the rest of the way, your breath forced from your lungs at the sheer strength behind the thrust that sheaths him to the hilt.
Caleb’s forehead drops to the nape of your neck, strong arms holding himself up either side of you as you are effectively sandwiched between their strong, sweaty bodies, completely at their mercy. The force of Caleb’s thrusts moves your cunt up and down Sylus’ length, the man below you letting the Farspace Colonel take the lead.
Your moan is swallowed by Sylus’ open mouth. It’s maddening, the way your clit rubs against the fine silver hair at the base of his cock, especially since you’ve already cum twice in the space of such a short time. But you’re helpless to stop it, effectively trapped, unable to do much of anything but take what they give you.
You part from Sylus momentarily to breathe, the air hot and musky with their combined scents around you, and they take the opportunity to messily kiss over your shoulder. Your cheek presses against Sylus’ clavicle, broken mewls and moans puffing from your lips with every brutal snap of Caleb’s hips.
“You - You look, fuck, hot when you ki-kiss,” you manage, a dazed smile playing on your lips when they part to glance at you, an equally fucked-out look on both of their perfect faces.
“Yeah?” Caleb growls, his teeth digging into the mark Zayne had left on your shoulder. “You look hot when we’re filling you up.”
“Mm. Next time let’s try three.” Sylus agrees, and you’re not sure if it’s the thought that makes your body tremble, or the way their cocks impale you again and again. It’s so intense, so all-consuming that it only takes a little longer for their movements to become messy and uncoordinated as they chase their ends within you.
Your clit drags back and forth roughly against Sylus’ previously neat pubes, each thrust forcing you to roughly grind against him and sending a shock up your body, only tightening that coil in the pit of your stomach.
“You gonna cum for us, baby? One more time?” Caleb croons when he feels the telltale tension overcome your entire body, his tongue laving the shell of your ear, breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin.
“Uh-huh,” you whimper, “want you - to cum, fuck, too… Pleeease…”
They couldn’t deny you even if they wanted to, not when you writhe between them as your third orgasm consumes over you, your lips parted in a silent scream that Sylus covers with his own eagerly. He grunts into your open mouth as he finishes inside of you, contributing his seed to the cocktail already coating your cervix from Xavier and Rafayel.
Caleb doesn’t last for much longer after that. The sound of your whimpers coupled with Sylus’ haggard breaths from overstimulation since he’s still inside you are intoxicating, and the way you clench every time he retreats just to pound back into you?
He isn't strong enough to resist.
Only a few thrusts later he’s crashing over the cliff, face buried into your hair, but it does little to muffle his desperate moans.
His thrusts turn shallow before stopping entirely, chest heaving as he all but collapses on your back, shaking arms barely holding him up.
Eventually he rolls off of you, the mattress creaking beneath him. You suck in a deep breath, palms flat against Sylus’ chest as you haul yourself into sitting position, wincing when it causes more cum to dribble free from your used cunt.
You sway, but Sylus’ hands steady you at your waist while another set touches your shoulders, coupled with a tender kiss to the side of your neck.
“You ready, Darling?” Zayne murmurs and you nod, only wincing slightly as he pulls you away from Sylus, the pair of you hissing softly.
Zayne gently lays you down on the bed, your head by the foot and your feet near Rafayel’s pillows, hair a complete mess and skin splotchy with redness caused by their hands and mouths. Your lingerie sticks to you, the lace soiled with sweat, and you loll your head to the side to gaze lovingly up at Rafayel who sits beside you, his fingers combing through your hair while Xavier heads to the en-suite to retrieve a cloth.
“I think I’ve ascended to heaven.”
Your voice is hoarse, words a little slurred, still drunk on the multiple orgasms they’d given you.
“Stay still.” Zayne chides when you squirm as he wipes down your inner thighs, though you can hear the smile in his voice, clearly amused by your dazed proclamation.
“No, I’m being serious.” You insist, leaning further into Rafayel’s soothing touch, your bunny ears somewhere to the side of the bed; they had fallen off in the midst of everything and you couldn’t care less, not when you feel like you're floating amongst the clouds. “Pretty sure I died and now I’ve risen again.”
Xavier snickers, “fitting, considering it’s Easter.”
Your eyes go wide as the revelation hits you, “whoa, hold up - are you saying I’m the new prophet?”
“Well, you already have 5 loyal disciples.” Sylus purrs, dipping down to kiss peck your lips before stretching his arms above his head, his shoulder clicking a few times.
“We won’t stab you in the back, though.” Caleb sweetly promises, pressing another wet cloth to your forehead to cool you down.
Once you’re cleaned up, the six of you lay in contended silence, all scattered around Rafayel’s thankfully huge bed. Your legs are draped over Zayne’s lap while your head lays on Rafayel’s chest, Xavier using your tummy as a pillow while Caleb and Sylus lay opposite you, observing your happy smile as all of you bask in post-coital afterglow.
An afterglow that’s broken when, once your mind comes back to you, your eyes narrow and you prop yourself up on your elbow to peer suspiciously at them.
“So… you guys have… y’know… Enjoyed each other?”
Zayne immediately covers his face, pinching the bridge of his nose while Xavier groans, turning his head to hide in your stomach. It's not that they're embarrassed - it's that they can already see the mischief in your eyes, evidence that you want to know every detail of their enjoyment.
“What? I deserve to know since I’m responsible. You’re welcome, by the way! You’d never have met each other unless I - mmm!”
Rafayel’s hand clasps over your mouth much to your dismay, your scowl contrasting the amusement that glitters in your eyes.
“Clearly didn’t fuck her hard enough since she’s still talking.” Caleb sighs in mock-disappointment as he sweeps his sweaty hair from his face.
“Mm, next time we’ll have to try harder.” Sylus agrees.
Next time.
Xavier breaths a laugh when your expression lights up, the others shaking their head in pure disbelief as if your thoughts are written over your face.
You don't care that they know what you're thinking, though.
You're already plotting how 'next time' can come sooner rather than later.