Page 18
Story: On Your Knees (Masked Men)
Chapter Eighteen
Arlo
Laughter echoes down the headset. “Awe come on, a cactus would fuck me harder in the ass. That was pitiful.”
I snort at that. It’s so fun to team up with UrNewStep_Mom against the annoying teenagers who play this game with their foul mouths and insults. I just sit quietly and have her back.
My life has changed since I met her. I have friends now. Sure, one is online and we’ve never met. Then there’s Aspen, who I swear flirts with me even though she is dating my boss, who also endlessly flirts with me through email, but she doesn’t seem bothered by that either. She explained they have a somewhat open relationship since she doesn’t believe in love. Still, making a move on her would be a dick thing to do. I’ve been waiting for the masked woman to send me a new location. She said it would be tonight, but didn’t specify when. She is sending a Ridez to pick me up, and while going to an undisclosed location to meet up with strangers is probably one of the stupidest things I could do, I can’t wait.
My phone buzzes and I almost jump out of my skin.
Be ready in one hour.
My heart flip-flops in my chest. It will take me that long to be ready. I might have researched way too much, but after the masked man put his fingers in my ass, I needed to know how to clean myself out. It seems a lot more complicated than it really is.
“I’m out,” I say to UrNewStep_Mom.
“Okay, hot stuff. I’ll continue to show these boys what it’s really like to get fucked instead of pretending they have touched a female.”
I chuckle and tell her to have fun before logging off. As expected, it takes the entire hour to get ready, but I’m standing out the front of my house when a Ridez car pulls up. The door automatically unlocks, and I slide into the back seat.
We drive for around ten minutes, and it takes a right into an older part of town, one mainly derelict due to a fire that ripped through here a few years ago. No one could afford to rebuild, and anything not affected by the fire was abandoned a long time ago. The car pulls over in front of the old cinema, which even has a few letters hanging crookedly on the billboard from the last movie ever played here. The building is huge, dwarfing the surrounding wreckage, and it’s such a shame it was left to rot. My mom has told me stories of when she used to come here as a kid. Walking up to the doors, I find them ajar enough I can slip through. Some of the lights flicker on and off, giving off a creepy vibe in a Five Nights at Freddy’s kind of way.
“Are you ready to make a movie with us?” a female voice asks from my left.
I turn and see her standing there, this time in an oversized man’s white shirt, a black belt tight around her waist, and boots. Her dark hair is pulled up into a messy bun and the mask glows in the darkness. I don’t see either of the men with her this time, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t here.
“Will you ever show me who you are?” I ask her. I obsessively watch her content, and she adds small clips and photos every day. But I can’t help overthinking why she has chosen me.
“All in good time. This is about living out your fantasies. Tell me, Arlo, what is one of yours?”
I hesitate, not knowing how to verbalize all the thoughts that have run through my head since our last encounter.
“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. We are here to serve,” one of the men says, stepping out from my right and boxing me in .
“I... I want to be fucked in the ass while my cock is buried in her pussy.”
“Then you better run,” another modulated voice says from the overhead speakers. “Because if they catch you, they get to decide what happens. But if you can keep away from them for fifteen minutes, you get to decide.”
Adrenaline sends my heart rate crazy. I leap forward and rush toward the only door available. But do I want to outrun them? I have always liked a bit of pain, though it’s usually in the form of a tattoo or a piercing, ones I only wear on occasions now, like my nose and ears, but my nipple piercing never comes out. That one really hurt and I won’t risk having to get it done twice.
Through the doors is an open room, with rows and rows of seats. A set of stairs leads down to another level with more seats and exit doors on either side at the front.
Racing forward, I reach the stairs, then descend them two at a time. The heavy thud of my footsteps on the treads echoes through the empty cinema, eventually swallowed up by the vast darkness stretching between the towering rows of suede seats. I vault over a broken armrest littering the aisle—my heart pounding and breath ragged—but I don’t stop, not yet. Not when I can hear them so close behind me. Two sets of footsteps, one light and quick, the other steady and hard. The masked woman moves quietly, while the man follows me with a taunting presence, like he knows I’ll have nowhere left to run, that he could catch me if he wanted.
I dart down more stairs, my fingers grazing the worn wooden railing as I push myself faster. The flickering glow of the exit sign calls to me from the far side of the room, but I don’t go toward it. I want to be caught, but more, I want to make them work for it. An adrenaline-filled laugh slips past my lips, and I glance back just in time to see the masked woman launch her small body over a row of seats, closing the gap between us. The man moves slower, like a predator, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. My pulse pounds harder.
I could run. I could fight. Or I could let them catch me.
I pivot at the last second, veering toward the left exit row instead of bolting for the right door. A sharp inhale echoes behind me and I grin. They weren’t expecting that. My legs burn as I push harder, leaping down the last few steps two at a time. But the moment my foot hits the floor, I feel it—they’re close.
I twist just as the masked woman lunges. I duck, barely slipping past her outstretched fingers as I stumble into the next row of seats. A laugh rips from my chest. I want to win, but I want to lose, too.
I throw myself forward, ducking down and dodging between seats, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The masked man is ahead of me now, moving with that slow, calculated confidence, cutting off my only escape. He tilts his head slightly, a silent taunt. I could turn back, try to lose them in the maze of broken chairs, but it’s pointless. They’ve boxed me in.
The woman moves first. I feel her presence before I see her, the sharp rush of air as she closes in behind me. I spin, trying to dodge one last time, but she’s already there. A firm grip catches my wrist, yanking me back. I struggle for the fun of it, twisting in her hold, but she doesn’t let go.
Then the masked man is on me. His hands clamp onto my shoulders, forcing me back against the seat. I suck in a sharp breath, my pulse pounding in my ears as my body thrums with adrenaline.
“Caught you, sweetheart,” the woman purrs, her fingers tightening around my wrist.
I swallow hard, my chest rising and falling. A sharp inhale drags into my lungs as I’m forced back down into the seat when I try to stand. The masked woman’s grip on my wrist is strong, her fingers digging in just enough to make me aware of how easily she could cut through my skin with her nails. The masked man has moved behind me and keeps his hands firm on my shoulders. He presses down, like he’s waiting to see if I’ll fight back again or give in.
I test the hold, shifting against their grip, but it only makes the woman tighten her fingers just enough to remind me who’s in charge.
“Struggling already?” Her voice is almost teasing.
I let out a breath as I battle the overwhelm of my body’s conflicting reactions. While I should fight harder, try to get free, the truth is I don’t want to.
The masked man leans down, and his breath pushes through the mask to ghost against my ear. “We told you what would happen if you got caught. You didn’t run hard enough, did you?”
My fingers twitch as heat crawls up my spine and into my cheeks, the embarrassment spreading like wildfire. “Maybe,” I rasp, my voice coming out rougher than I expected.
The woman tilts her head, her mask concealing her face. She steps closer, the space between us dissolving as she drags a hand down my chest. “Maybe,” she repeats. Her fingers trace lower, pressing just enough to make my breath catch. “Or maybe you wanted this.”
I don’t answer. I don’t have to.
The man behind me hums low in his throat. “If you wanted to be caught,” he murmurs, his hand moving from my shoulder to my jaw and tilting my head back, “you should’ve just said so.”
The woman moves in at the same time, pressing one knee between my legs, keeping me exactly where she wants me.
“You knew the rules, Arlo,” she whispers. “And now we get to play by mine. I want you naked, but first I’m going to blindfold you. That’s your punishment, me taking away your ability to watch what we are doing to you.”
The masked man pulls a blindfold out of his pocket and places it over my eyes, sealing me in darkness. “No peeking or this all goes away.”
I nod my head. There is no way I want this to stop.
“I’m going to undress you now.”
All my other senses are heightened. I feel her untying my chucks and slipping them off my feet, along with my socks, leaving my feet bare and the cool air prickling against my skin.
My pulse skyrockets when I feel her just inches away as she undoes the button on my pants, then goosebumps rise at the scrape of my zipper and her fingers tucking into the waistband of my boxer briefs. I lift slightly so she can slide them off, but she does it so slowly it’s pure torture and leaves my skin hypersensitive. Every nerve ending is on high alert, waiting and wanting more.
The masked man behind me lifts my shirt and pulls it over my head.
I shiver when I feel her fingernails graze along my length. I can’t stop the way my body reacts, and my eyes roll back as I enjoy her touch.
“I’m going to suck your cock now, and paint my lips with your precum,” the masked woman says.
I want to protest—trapped in the horror of my past—but before I can form the words, her lips wrap around the head of my dick and the sensation has my ass bucking out of the chair.
“Oh fuck,” I whisper.
This is nothing like the first time. She sucks me down slowly into the back of her throat and slides back up to the tip, running her lips along the head.
“She looks so pretty with your hard cock in her mouth. Tell her how well she is doing.”
My cheeks heat, but his words make me want to be brave. “So good,” I grunt, as she sucks me hard. “Fuck.”
“You don’t have to be a talker, Arlo. I can tell how well she is doing on her knees for you by the way your body tenses. Tasting you, pleasing you. And once you come, I’m going to stretch that ass out so we can fuck you at the same time. Would you like that, sweetheart? ”
A shiver spirals up my back and my balls tighten as she cups them, gently applying a little pressure. The masked man strokes my hair and the way they call me sweetheart makes me melt.
“Y-yes. Please. I need to come.”
“Do it. Coat her lips with your cum, so I can lick it off her face.”
I groan, which is joined by a growl that echoes around the room. Someone else has entered and I feel a sense of relief knowing the second masked man is here. He didn’t touch me last time, but knowing he was watching turned me on so much.
“Fuck,” I whisper as she pulls back with a hard suck, and I come so hard my entire body shakes.
“Now, it’s my turn,” the masked man says from somewhere beside me, and before I can respond, I’m lifted like I don’t weigh anything and thrown over a shoulder, a hand clamped on my ass.
How is this my life?
I’m gently placed on the floor on my hands and knees. And I don’t know how I know, but the third presence is close. It’s confirmed when a large hand spears into my hair, using it to pull my head back, and I feel his thigh on my cheek as he squats beside me.
“I’m going to talk you through this while they have their masks off, and I’m going to watch what’s mine fuck you. Do you enjoy borrowing what’s mine?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I can’t hear you,” he states, dragging my head back further .
“Yes, I love touching what’s yours. Thank you for sharing them.”
“Good boy. They seem to like you, and that makes me happy.”
My knees feel weak, and I shiver as fingers touch my ass cheeks and spread them apart.
“He’s going to lube you up really well. Use your safe word if it hurts too much.”
I nod, my palms and knees digging into the soft carpet as his finger slides into my ass. I’m exposed, every sense alive, wanting more. Then her hand touches my jaw and I freeze, my heart pounding like it might give me away. Her lips brush against mine, just once, and it steals the air from my lungs. I didn’t expect it to feel like that —not soft, but electric. Then her mouth claims mine like it needs me, and I kiss her back, craving the connection. The blindfold makes it worse—no, better because I cannot see her, but I can feel her. Every second sets my blood on fire.
I moan into her mouth as the masked man pumps his fingers into my ass. It feels incredible, and I don’t know why I waited so long to experience this, but I’m glad I did.
“I think you’re ready for his cock. Don’t worry, he’ll be gentle. Once he’s in, my girl will slip beneath you. Are you ready to be fucked and fuck at the same time? Consider yourself lucky—even I haven’t had them both together at the same time.”
My head is ripped away from the woman and fabric presses against the side of my face .
“I don’t like feeling jealous, Arlo. Should I feel jealous of you?”
I swallow and shake my head, but they wouldn’t be here if they didn’t want this again. It was supposed to be a one-time thing.
“Good, because I think I might enjoy sharing them with you. Now, are you going to take his cock like a good boy?”
“Yes,” I pant as the masked man rims my ass with his cock and then presses against me. It burns slightly as he pushes inside, but he kisses my shoulder, his blunt fingernails feathering against my skin, helping to distract me and turn me on. Once he pushes all the way in, he stills, giving me a chance to adjust to his size. He reaches beneath me and wraps his hand around my length, his thumb gliding across the tip, making me want more.
“I think you’re ready for her now.”
I can’t see what’s happening, but I feel her body slide beneath me. She slips under me perfectly, backing herself up as the masked man lines my cock up with her pussy. My entire world combusts at the connection. He pulls back and thrusts into my ass, setting off a chain reaction of me thrusting into the woman. I have never felt something so magical—it’s almost like I have stepped through a portal and I’m no longer the nerdy guy who is too scared to talk to people.
We all move together slowly until we find a rhythm. The woman is moaning, not as vocal as normal, and when she comes hard around me, her scream is muffled. Her warmth wraps around me so tightly it sends a flood of euphoria straight to my cock and I explode.
“That’s a good boy. You fucked my girl to orgasm, and now it’s time for my man to fuck you into next week.”
“Mmm,” is all I can manage as my hips are grabbed tight and the man thrusts into me hard and fast. It’s no longer about my pleasure, but his, and my heart warms as he uses me. It’s then that I realize I love being used for pleasure.
The weight of him presses into my back, his bare chest warm against me as he leans in. Breath skims over my skin just before his lips graze my shoulder, followed by the sharp bite of teeth sinking into my flesh, pulling a gasp from my throat. He swells inside me, every inch of him claiming me.
His teeth bite deeper until he fills my ass with his cum. When he releases my flesh, his tongue sweeps across where he has marked me, but when he pulls back, the sting makes me want more. To be marked by them, officially claimed as theirs. I stay where I am and let him take his time, my pulse thundering in my ears, while my body arches under his like it knows exactly who it belongs to. Which is fucking wild because I don’t even know who they are. This needs to change, I mentally scold myself. If they seek me out again, I will demand to know who they are. I didn’t think I was the type to wear my heart on my sleeve, but apparently I am, and I’m not sorry about it either.