Stamina 2 (Patreon)

Scott fucked her ass almost as if he were more paddling it with his hard belly, driving himself faster and faster into her anus. His eyes rolled back. His head twisted from side to side. He looked like he had been possessed, taken over by some lustful demon. Emma read his thoughts, practically shot into her head by his frantic greed for her body.

I can feel the dildo in her pussy—I’m reaming both her holes—wearing out that thin membrane between them—gonna make her pussy and her ass just one big hole one of these days…

He growled with passion, sodomizing her even more callously, fucking her ass until fire shot through her colon. Then, abruptly, he wasn’t in her ass anymore. He was dangling his balls over her face, kneeling down to bring himself to her mouth.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky. Your new owner will have two friends to fuck your other holes with. But if you’re not, you may just have to go ass to mouth.” And he rammed into Emma’s protesting lips, stooping over her as though to sixty-nine, but Scott didn’t have anything as sweet as oral sex planned for her. No, he had another dildo, and he forced it into her ass to go with the one in her pussy.

Emma couldn’t have resisted even if she’d marshalled up the will to want to. There was no strength in her body; what little she’d had after Scott’s exorbitant exercise had been spent in orgasms. Her body never shied on responses to what Scott put it through. Tasting her own ass jammed into her mouth via Scott’s prick would’ve made her come even if she weren’t being double-penetrated.

She didn’t care that, by every action she was taking and not taking, she was agreeing with all those droll epithets Scott was dropping on her. Whore. Anal whore. Fat ass. It didn’t pay to care. What had caring ever gotten her? She left the caring to Scott—he was so much better at it than her anyway.

And she left her body to him too. She’d never been much for masturbation; with her body, sex was easier to get and far more fun. But being used as Scott’s sex toy was… she didn’t know… it was freeing, not having to jockey for advantage and prove herself the queen all the time. With Scott, it was a settled issue. She was on her back, Scott hunched over her, a huge cock burning her lips, while he held dildos in either hand that ravaged both her anus and pussy.

He rolled his hips. His broad cockhead rammed into her tonsils and slid down her throat. It was still an unbearable imposition, but Emma would forgive Scott for it. She was really quite nice that way.

Then she was once more reminded thinking was unnecessary when she started gagging, her head jerking while Scott took full advantage of having a straight shot down into her gullet. Her saliva pumped out of her and ran over her upturned face onto Scott’s flapping balls. When they slapped against her face, they splashed her own spit onto her already ruined make-up.

It was one more way Emma was losing control, just like how her juices were spilling from her fucked pussy. All she could do was wiggle, her body dancing to the tune set by those dildos Scott was keeping in ravishing motion between her legs and up her ass.

Scott’s thoughts blasted in her head like ringing church bells: Wish I had a hand free to pull her hair. Suck it, bitch, lick it. Next time I’m putting beads up her ass, vibrating panties for her cunt. Come on, whore, take this big cock. I know you’re listening, you slut, you can’t resist knowing how much attention I’m paying to you. If you don’t come in the next thirty seconds, I’m slapping that pretty face with my dick. Even a libertine like you can’t think you’re classy when you’re putting rouge where my prick has been.

Emma grunted, gurgled, thrust her tongue wildly as if trying to dislodge the gag that had stoppered not only speech but thought… and the monster in her mouth kept going into her throat.

Scott let out animalistic groans, pleasured noises, and tension-relieving laughs as he proved again and again that he had the very best plaything. Like a kid with the nicest toys, only he was smart enough to be content. Emma wouldn’t gather cobwebs in some attic. She would be played with for hours and hours and hours…

His cock throbbed, shook, sent prickly sensations through Emma’s lips and into her mouth. There was no way to stop herself from sucking. She didn’t care if she tasted her ass. She needed to know that she was servicing Scott, and he rewarded her with hard-won words through his clenched teeth.

“Ohh yeahhh!” he moaned, still deliriously rutting into mouth and throat and belly, or at least trying to. “Suck that thing. Take all my big dick.”

Cocks and dildos pumped into her body, taking full advantage of her vulnerability. Even when it wasn’t his flesh, she felt Scott in her mouth and cunt and asshole. He knew exactly how much to give her, always. He teased her by making her take just a little too much. She teased him back by loving it anyway. Scott could never punish her enough for Emma not to like it.

She’d never imagined being so stuffed, so stretched, all of her tight and throbbing. Fucked three different ways simultaneously. Fuck me, fuck me everywhere! she would’ve said if he wasn’t fucking her mouth already. Oh, let me have it! Harder, faster, deeper!

Emma gurgled, moaned, writhed between Scott and what he was doing to her. Her hips twitched and circled. She writhed so furiously that she thought she might have a heart attack. The heat exploded in her brain and coursed through her body; all she could do to express it was grunt like a sow.

Fuck me, you horny bastard, show me what a slut I am!

“Oh shit!” Scott groaned. “Suck that cock! Yes, you little bitch, I know you want that cum! Unghh! Uhh!”

He bore down, using her mouth as a pussy, burning her throat with his thrusts as though to prepare it with the boiling cum she was about to get. He moved the dildos just as quickly, fucking her, sodomizing her.

But the wildest sensation of all was in her breasts. They swelled, throbbed. Emma wanted him to slap them, grope them, fuck his cock between them. But they had to go untended while he used her holes. God, how she wanted him there too… covering her whole body the way her costumes never ever did.

Give it to me! she thought, not knowing if she was managing to teep or not, but knowing Scott could tell this was in her head. I can feel your cock in my womb… up in my bowels… use this slut, Scott, use me!

As Scott bucked more frantically, Emma followed her own advice and gave herself to the dildos utterly. It felt far better than masturbation. She wasn’t doing this to herself, she was helping Scott do it to her.

She could no longer tell the difference between the cock in her mouth and the two inside her. All she knew was the flame surging into her, the sex sensation. Her loins pulsed and quivered and swelled and clenched as if to make up for the toys’ muteness. They were real enough for her; she was going to come for them no matter what.

Emma had passed the point of no return. She sucked on the prick between her lips in the desperate hope it would give some pleasure to Scott, even though he might be enjoying her ass instead, or her cunt…

“I love you, Emma!” Scott husked. “Love my sweet little whooore!”

His manhood swelled, forcing her lips even wider open. All that vast, bone-hard meat shook in her mouth, every vein bloating with the hot blood needed to fire him down to her belly. The monstrous intruder flexed in her throat, and then a torrent of scalding white exploded inside her, washing up into her mouth and down to the pit of her stomach, beyond, flash-frying her pussy when she’d thought it was already on fire.

Emma gagged on its force and profuseness, but it was already spilling out of her splayed lips before she could spit it up.

“Ahhh!” Scott groaned. “Arghh!”

Emma’s entire world became the scent and taste of cum. She was instantly drunk on it, filled with it, delirious. She sucked like a calf at a teat, drinking down the rich load Scott had rewarded her with. She wanted all of it and more, everything he could give her.

As Scott’s cum flooded her throat, her pussy burst into orgasm, and the dildos inside her seemed to be scourging her with pleasure. Emma could barely think anymore, but she was still sane enough to realize Scott was coming even more, molten cum pushing repeatedly into her belly. She hoped it would never stop.

And for her, it didn’t. She passed out before Scott could make her swallow it all.

***

Betsy Braddock was the only one to see Scott when, in the early hours of the morning, he slipped into the mansion through a sidedoor, carrying Emma like a blushing (if unconscious) bride. He was unshaven and sweatier than usual after his runs—something Betsy had enjoyed observing before—and his hair was mussed up.

“Let me get the door for you,” Betsy said, enjoying his chagrinned, appreciative smile as he carried Emma inside, his head ducked. “What’s wrong with Emma? Did she trip and fall trying to do a four-minute mile in high heels?”

Scott pinched his lips ruefully. “Just a twisted ankle.”

“Ah.”

Betsy enjoyed his discomfort, but she more enjoyed seeing that his sweatpants had slipped down at some point while he hefted Emma around like so much designer luggage. The elastic waistband fell down under his treasure trail, under the base of his cock, and only stopped so low on his groin that if his prick didn’t stop there, it might hang all the way down around his knees.

To say Betsy was impressed was an understatement. But she decided it would be indelicate to inform Scott of something he would figure out when he got back to his room. Besides, wouldn’t it be scintillating to make him wonder if his pants had been slung low the whole time—if she’d seen so much (yet not all) of what he had to offer…

“I know Emma is a bit… sensitive… but don’t tell me she passed out from the pain?” It was hard not to look at his groin. Betsy didn’t consider herself a slut—who could, with Emma to compare herself to?—but it was right there, like a museum exhibit, just begging to be marveled at.

“You know Emma,” Scott joked. “Any chance to catch up on her beauty sleep.”

His dick wasn’t hard, but even flaccid it was clear that Scott had one formidable tool. It looped out from his pelvis like an elephant’s trunk. And, jammed between his thighs, his balls were like cantaloupes.

It didn’t take much ninja training for Betsy to detect that the contents were not all inside Scott’s wrinkled bag. The scent emerged every time Emma exhaled; heady enough that Scott must have bloody well whitewashed her gullet.

“Such a gentleman.” Betsy reached out to torture Scott a little more by flicking a strand of hair from Emma’s face. “I mean, after you rogered her bleached blonde brains out.”

Scott developed an awkward smile. He pretended he hadn’t heard her like she’d just mentioned full-body gimp suits to Rogue. “I really should be going.”

Betsy stepped in front of him before he could get up the stairs. With her blocking the way, he had no route to the safety of his apartment. “What’s your hurry? Need to jerk off because Emma wasn’t woman enough to drain you all the way? Here: allow me.”