Page 39

Story: Princes of Chaos

Noticing the shocked grimace on my face, he fixes me with a weary look. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re here for,” he says, standing from the stool. “The rules say I have to get my semen into you. There’s no covenant about how it gets there.” I feel more than see his gloved fingers pushing into my clit, the latex feeling strange. “You should be thanking me,” he goes on, rubbing the nub of nerves. “A whole night to rest this mangled cunt is more than most Princesses get.”

Hissing, I push against the stirrups, writhing away from the sensation. “What are you doing?”

He scoffs, clasping my hip. “You really are a virgin, aren’t you?” The look he gives me drips with condescension. “I’m stimulating a state of physical arousal.”

I gape at him. “Why?!”

Lex’s narrowed eyes hold mine as his fingers dip down, bicep bulging when he forces them inside. “Because you’re clenched so tight that nothing is going to get past that brick wall you call a cervix. You need to relax and let your body accept it.”

Accept it.

His semen.

“Relax?” My responding laugh is edged with hysteria. “Just relax as I’m strapped down to a table with my legs forced open so my cunt can be–what did you call it—oh, yeah,mangledsome more. Sure, I’ll just relax.”

He goes eerily still, finger buried deep inside. “I was the top of my class, from grade school to junior year of undergrad. I’ve won seven awards, published five papers, set the new standard for Forsyth’s physiology department, and have aced every test I’ve ever taken, so when I say I’m good at something, you know I mean it.” He pitches forward, bearing down over the cradle of my spread thighs. “I’m excellent at anatomy,” he says in a low, smooth rumble that shoots right into the pit of my belly. “I know every single nerve in your body. That blush rising up your neck means it’s already started with cutaneous vasodilation. Next will be–”

I gulp.

His gaze jumps immediately to the movement. “Salivation.” His eyes dip down, fingers rubbing my clit in faster, tighter circles. “Nipple erection. Soon, you’ll begin sweating.”

Too late, I think, the back of my neck already prickling with moisture.

“Physically, all that’s left,” he says, eyes sweeping up my neck, “are the basic genital mechanisms, such as… this.” I gasp as his latex-covered finger brushes my clit in a downward motion.

He’s right. No matter how much I try to fight it, I can feel every cell of my body flaring to life under nothing but two of his skilled fingers. I turn my head, unwilling to look him in the eye as my breath quickens, toes flexing in the air.

In a quiet voice, tinged with curiosity, he notes, “Your body is remarkably responsive. They’ll like that.” Even in the growing fog of lust, it doesn’t take me long to understand who he means.They.

His brothers.

I wince at the whimper that escapes my throat, unable to stop my hips from squirming upward to meet the friction of his fingers.

The next time he speaks, he sounds closer. “The sensory input is already navigating to your supraspinal structures.” I refuse to look, but I can feel the heat of him, his body hovering over mine. “You’re close now. Wet. Expanding. Your body is preparing for the motor contractions of your pelvic floor. The only thing that’s missing–and this is the most important part–is the central activation of thoughts. Psychological stimuli will induce desire.”

My breath comes in short, agonized pants, and the next time he speaks, I feel the words as much as hear them.

His silky whisper is like liquid fire against my ear. “Have you ever had your pussy licked, Verity? I know you were a virgin when you came here, but that doesn't mean you haven't done other things.” Whatever sound I make elicits a sigh from him. “No, of course not. But I bet you've thought about it, haven't you? How it'd feel to have a guy's tongue on you, right here.” He pushes into my clit, and without wanting to, I keen. “It'd be wet and warm. You'd feel his breaths, the sounds he'd make, the vibrations. You'd grab his hair, wouldn't you? I think you would. You strike me as the type. All coy and sweet until a man's between your thighs. Look at you right now, all red and desperate for a thick cock to slide into you. It wouldn't take much. You just might have the most perfect pussy I’ve ever seen. So pink and tight. My brothers won’t have to work very hard to fill it up.”

My back arches and I turn, catching his gaze. He’s close–close enough that I can feel the breath spilling from his flared nostrils. His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide as his shoulder rocks.

And he’s staring at my lips.

“A few months ago,” he murmurs, “Even I would’ve–”

My mouth opens on a sob as it explodes inside of me–a million tiny pinpricks of pleasure, blooming from the tips of my toes to my tightly clenched eyes. It rolls through me like a thunderclap, and I chase it.

Doggedly, desperately,shamefully, I chase it.

I strain against the straps to buck into his gloved hand, body shuddering greedily for every aftershock.

But then the pressure of his fingers is gone.

I feel the straps being released, one by one, and I’m still halfway seizing as I watch Lex walk away. He snaps off one glove, and then the other, tossing them into the trash bin. “Put the pillow beneath your hips,” he says.

I blink at him, dazed. “What?”

When he turns, any trace of interest is gone. He looks bored again, mouth tight with impatience. “The pillow beneath your head. Put it under your hips. It’s simple gravity.”

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