“I have something special planned for half time,” announced her Sir.
She continued to kneel on the floor, waiting. Her throat burned from the two cocks forced down her throat. Her ass felt stretched, used, and on fire from the relentless pounding Draco had given her.
“Come here, pet.”
She crawled towards the sound of her Sir’s voice over to the bar at the back of the room.
“Hop up,” he said, patting the top of the bar.
She climbed up, using a bar stool for a step. She sat on the bar, waiting. Her Sir began to cuff her ankles and wrists. She remembered that he installed S-hooks to the ceiling and the side of the bar a few days ago. Latching a chain to each ankle and wrist, he hooked the end to each hook, spreading her arms and legs wide, immobilizing her. She barely perched on the bar, her ass just grazing the countertop.
She felt something wrapping around her waist and thighs. Before she realized what was happening, she saw the wand in his hand, the dreaded Hitachi. With a panicked look in her eyes, she turned to look at him. He smiled a sadistic grin. He knew what this did to her.
While he placed the wand into the harness, he said, “The no-noise rule still applies, pet. We want to hear what they’re saying.”
He turned to the guys who were watching with interest. “I figured she deserved a little something for all her hard work.”
He turned on the wand and walked back to his chair.
“Cum at will, pet.”
The wand buzzed against her pussy, hitting her clit dead-on. The first orgasm took her by surprise. The second made her squirt. Her body began to shake as the sensations built, and the orgasms began to roll one after the other. She breathed heavily. She panted. She tried desperately not to make any sounds. Her face contorted. She strained against her bonds.
Sweat covered her upper body while cum poured down her legs, dripping on the bar and then the floor beneath her. She began to tremble. Her clit burned. She writhed against the wand, desperate to get away. Her hair stuck to her forehead, getting into her eyes. Sweat began to pour down her face. She gritted her teeth against the need to scream. Tiny noises emanated from her, barely audible.
She began to twitch as orgasm after orgasm hit her in a constant wave. She barely registered the laughter of the men as they discussed the game. They were acutely aware of her distress, reveled in it, but she was not their priority in that moment. Her Sir kept one eye on her the entire time, his attention never wavering from either the conversation or her.
With a few minutes left in half time, her Sir came back to the bar, turned off the wand, and removed the chains and cuffs. He cradled her against his chest, whispering to her that she was such a good girl for being so quiet for them. He handed her a bottle of water, bidding her to drink. He brushed her hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead.
“You’re such a good girl, pet.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she whispered, barely able to speak.
“Hey, man, second half’s about to start!” exclaimed Draco.
Her Sir helped her to her feet, made sure she was steady, and then lightly smacked her ass.
“Take care of Edge, my little slut,” he said as he walked away.
Head down, knees wobbly, she walked to over to Edge, standing quietly by his chair. She didn’t know Edge very well. He was a quiet, serious man. His slave, mina, was always chatty, but she never said much about Edge.
He looked up at her, reaching for her hand gently. He kissed the top of her hand before abruptly yanking her over his chair. She landed on her stomach, over his knee. Her tight ass jutted upwards, begging to be touched.
His hand came down on her ass, hard. He timed his smacks between plays, so as not to drown out the sound of the commentators. He compensated for the lack of consistent smacks by making each one harder than the one before.
She bit down on the arm of the chair, terrified she would scream. Each blow left a red mark. The burning in her ass told her there would be bruises from this. During commercials, he would finger her stretched asshole, at one point shoving four fingers in and roughly fucking her for the full two minute commercial break. Her head thrashed back and forth, her forehead rubbing against the arm of the chair, anything to stay silent.
With one final smack against her ass, he pushed her off of him, pulled her up by her throat until she was on her knees. He stood before her and shoved his cock into her mouth. He held her head still while he fucked her mouth, mercilessly pounding, faster and faster. Tears streamed down her face. Her throat burned. Each thrust to the back of her throat gagged her a little more.
With one final thrust, he shoved his cock to the back of her throat and clamped his fingers on her nose. Unable to breathe, he forced her to hold his cock in her throat, swallowing his cum. She began to struggle against him, afraid that she couldn’t breathe. With his free hand, he smacked her cheek.
He let go of her nose, and she gasped for breath, thankful for the sweet air. He smacked her other cheek, harder. She felt sure that this was almost over. He had already cum and the third quarter should be over shortly. She didn’t know that Edge could cum more than the average man. Never taking his eyes off the television, he began again, but faster.
Her mouth was sore from the abuse. It became difficult to keep her mouth open wide enough. Her teeth began to graze his cock as he thrust in and out. Each time he felt her teeth, he slapped her cheek, alternating between them so as not to bruise her. She felt her face begin to heat up and knew her cheeks were red.
She didn’t know how, but he began to fuck her mouth and throat even faster, slamming into her. She could barely catch her breath before she felt his cock at the back of her throat, then out, then in. Over and over again. He abused her mouth more than her Sir had ever abused her pussy. Tears poured down her face. Drool and snot dribbled down her chin. Her eyes could barely open. Her strength began to fade.
Somehow the announcer’s voice permeated through the fog of her brain, and she heard, “That’s it for the third quarter!” In the same moment, Edge clamped down on her nose and shoved his cock down her throat, cumming a second time. He forced his hot cum down the back of her throat a second time. She had no strength to struggle as her air was cut off again.
“Ahem,” coughed her Sir.
“Oh, dude, sorry,” mumbled Edge. He let go of her nose, pulled out of her mouth, and sat down. He didn’t wait for her to clean him off before shoving his still hard cock into his pants.
She stayed on her knees, unable to move. She began to tremble as her strength drained away. She gasped for air, though still conscious of making too much noise. Finally, unable to hold herself up anymore, she fell forward, her face landing on Edge’s boot.
“Lick it, bitch.”
Barely able to hold her head up, her tongue darted out to lick the toe of his boot.
“Good girl,” grunted Edge.
“Thank you, Sir,” she croaked quietly.
“Pet, it’s fourth quarter,” her Sir said quietly.
She dragged herself away from Edge across the room to her Sir, staying low to the ground. She could barely lift herself up, and she knew better than to impede their view of the game.
She couldn’t imagine what Sir would have in store for her. She prayed he wouldn’t want her to suck his cock. She felt raw from the inside out from the men’s use of her throat and her ass, for that matter. She collapsed at her Sir’s feet, completely spent.
Her eyes opened when she felt herself being lifted off the ground. Cradling her in his arm’s, he sat in his chair. He stroked her hair and held the bottle of water to her mouth. He whispered nonsense words in her ear and brushed her hair back from her face.
She closed her eyes and savored his care of her. They spent fourth quarter in that position. She sighed into his chest, listening to his heart beat while he watched the final minutes of the game. When it was over, each man came by her Sir’s chair to say good bye. Each one whispered, one final time, “Good girl.”
Fast asleep, she never heard them leave.