12. Ollie

Chapter 12

Ollie

“ I -I can’t,” her voice hoarse from screamin’ and cryin’. “Not both of you. Please.”

“Whether you can or can’t don’ matter, chére. You’re gon take us.” I say, pulling my shirt over my head.

I look at Wilder. “You still have dose handcuffs in 'ere?” He pauses his thrust and points to the bedside drawer. I pull the drawer open and rifle around, producing them from the back. “Pull out.” I tell him.

Wilder withdraws from her pussy, and Marlowe winces and groans. I pause briefly, contemplating how I desire this to go. “You got lube?”

“Should be in dat drawer.” He says, admiring the blood that is now drying on his cock. “Can I stay in her pussy? As much as I wan ta fuck dis ass, I need ta come inside her.”

Marlowe looks at me as I produce a bottle of lube from the drawer. I also grab a pack of wipes. “Fine by me. I’ll take her cunt next time.”

“You can’t. Please… pretty please.” She whines.

Wilder situates himself with his head on the pillows. He motions for Marlowe to straddle him. “Come on now, if you a good girl, I’ll make ya come again.”

Before she does, I grab her wrist and close the cuff around it. “Now you can either have your hands under my brother’s neck, or behind your back where I'll hold on ta dem while I fuck ya.”

“Behind his neck,” she cries, her voice trembling with fear. She pants as she moves to straddle Wilder's waist.

“Sit on his cock,” I order her, and she gives me a pleading look, begging for mercy. “Don’t look at me like dat now, chére. You fucked dis up. Not me.”

Marlowe hovers over Wilder’s cock, lowering herself, wincing as the head breaches her entrance. “It hurts, I can’t.”

“She’s dry, Ollie.” Wilder lifts her, moving her onto his stomach. “Gimme some of dat lube.”

I flick the cap open and squirt some into his waitin’ palm. He strokes himself, coating his dick real good. Then guides Marlowe back. “Lean forward, chére.” Without argument, she does. He pushes in once and only the tip slides in. She squeezes her eyes closed at the pain. I walk around the other side of the bed and cuff her other wrist around Wilder’s neck.

“You feel so good, chére.” Wilder groans as he slowly thrusts into her. “Your body is perfect. Everything I love in a woman, curves, a lil’ soft in the middle, and tits for days.”

As much as Marlowe whines and mumbles for him to stop, she meets every thrust of his hips. “Make her come again, Wild. Get ‘er all nice and relaxed for me.”

I drop my shorts, not having bothered to put on underwear after my quick shower. Climbing onto Wilder’s bed, I situate myself in between his spread legs. My fingers glide down her spine, and I feel her quiver at my touch. I grab the bottle of lube, covering my fingers and dripping some over her tight back hole. She instantly tensed. “Relax now, I wouldna wanna hurt ya too bad.”

“Please,” the sound of her whines silenced as Wild covers her mouth with his, swallowing her cries and moans as he brings her closer to climax.

Much to my surprise, she doesn’t fight his kiss. She mumbles against his lips as he kisses her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I hit you. Please, don’t hurt me.”

I can sense my brother crumble. He is weak for her already. Marlowe cries out as her orgasm hits, leaving her in a collapsed heap on his chest. I tease her back hole with my index finger. She clenches around the fingertip. “Breathe, Marlowe.” I wait for her to take a breath. “Now bear down.”

She does and cries out as my finger breaches the rings of tight muscles. Easing in and out a few times, I waste no time adding a second finger, which causes her to recoil. “Ow, ow. Please,” she begs. “It burns. Please make it stop.”

“Shh…Let him in, chére. Once you do, we can make da pain go away. Then we be havin’ ya feel so good.” Wilder encourages her, stroking her face with his thumb as he continues to kiss her all tender-like.

So much for him punishin’ her. He’s coddlin’ her, even after she hit him in the face.

I give her a few minutes of stretchin’ her. I can feel my brother slow strokin’ inside her. He’s tryin’ to hold off on coming until I’m inside her, too. I reach for the packet of wipes, grabbin’ one to wipe my fingers off.

After withdrawin’ my fingers, I clean them, then take the lube and apply more to her and then to myself. “Alright Wild, stop movin’.” He pauses and I line up with her back hole, letting my tip push through.

“Wait, wait…please.”

With my left hand, I press down on her shoulder to keep her flat against Wild’s chest. “Push all your breath out and bear down now,” I instruct her. She does exactly as I said, and I push in. “Damn, she so tight.” I stay still lettin’ her adjust to my size and to being filled.

“Oh, God. It’s too much, please someone move. It’s so… full.” Marlowe whines. It’s definitely one of discomfort and not pleasure.

“You heard our girl,” I say, lookin’ at my brother, who has a shit-eating grin on his face. “D’ough, chére ain’t no God ‘ere. You can pray ta us ta make ya feel good.”

I pull back, and Marlowe moans. That’s our cue to keep going. We carefully alternate thrusting in and out of her in tandem. It takes everything in me to not destroy her virgin ass. I keep pace with Wild’s thrustin’ to keep me grounded in the moment.

“Still hurt, baby girl?” Wild asks her, bringing a hand to cup her tit.

“We givin’ pet names now?” I grunt as I drive into her a little harder.

“Fuck Ollie, I’m close. I don’t t’ink I can wait no more.” He turns his attention to Marlowe. “I’m gon need ya to come again. I need to come feelin’ ya come, too. Can ya do dat for me?”

The only sound Marlowe makes is a series of low moans and whimpering unintelligible words. Wild picks up speed, chasing his release and I follow his lead, mine right there on the cusp of exploding.

“Oh fuck, oh…I’m gonna,” she cries as she breaks, clenching around both our cocks. Her walls pulse around us and Wilder comes with a roar, emptying himself inside her cunt.

Two more tight strokes and I fill her ass with my cum, grunting loudly as I do. Marlowe breathes heavily, her body still quaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“Such a good little slut.” I smack her ass hard as I pull out, my cum leaking out onto the bed sheets.

“Dammit, Ollie, I jus changed dese damn sheets,” Wilder grumbles, adjusting himself to stay inside her.

Wilder and I share the same kink, breeding. We were probably the only teenage boys in the parish that was itching for babies, not that we was trying to get every girl we fucked pregnant. And now at twenty-four, it’s a fucking need. This girl right here is gonna fulfill them needs for us. I climb off the bed, clean myself off with a wipe, and make my way around the bed, grabbing my clothes.

I hear my brother praising her softly as she cries into his chest .

“You done so good, baby girl. I’m proud of ya.” I can hear her soft whimpering and sniffling. Wild keeps himself seated inside her. I look at him, his eyes flickering to mine.

“Give ‘er a few more minutes, den we’ll get ‘er cleaned up. I’ll get da bath goin’.” I say, making my way into the adjoining washroom. We may have just had our way with this girl, our girl. But we ain’t complete monsters. Just because we’re rough with her in the bed, don't mean we’ll treat her that way out of it.

The pipes in the wall groan as I turn on the knob for the hot water. A spray of water splashes up at me and I hold my hand under the flow to make sure it’s the right temperature before putting the stopper down. I walk away, letting the tub fill to grab something for Marlowe to wear.

I search through Wild’s drawers, finding a soft T-shirt and a pair of comfortable sweatpants. As I return to the bedroom, Marlowe is still catching her breath, her body slowly calming down from the intensity of our encounter. I approach her gently, offering the clothes with a reassuring smile.

“Here, Marlowe,” I say softly, “You can put dese on after your bath. We want ya ta feel comfortable.”

Wilder pulls her arms over her head and removes the handcuffs. He inspects her wrist and from where I stand; they don’t look too bad. I lean over and scoop her up in my arms. Meanwhile, Wilder remains seated on the bed, his protective presence unwavering.

Once I carry Marlowe into the washroom, I set her on her feet, supporting her as she wobbles slightly. I assist her into the tub, making sure she’s settled before stepping back to give her some space.

As the water envelops Marlowe, I can see the tension gradually melting away from her body. The aftermath of our rough fucking is now visible on her body. I take in the red marks that will turn to bruises from my grip. I can’t help but feel a deep sense of responsibility towards her. This girl is going to hopefully soon have our children.

“I hope dats the only time we have ta be like that,” I say, clearing my throat, and looking down at her. “Restrainin’ you is not somein’ I care for. Once finished, you can make a list of things you’d like, clothes, books, whatever, and I can go get ‘em for you.”

“Can I go with you?” Her eyes plead with mine.

“Not yet, chére. Once we can trust you not to run, then you can go out wid us.”

While Marlowe relaxes in the bath, I turn my attention to cleaning up the mess we’ve made. I gather the soiled sheets and toss them into a laundry hamper, making a mental note to wash them later. Wilder joins me, silently assisting with the cleanup, his expression a complicated mix of concern and care.

After tidying the room, I glance at Wilder, silently communicating the need to give Marlowe some space to recover. We sit on the couch that is in Wild’s room, sitting our bodies tense with emotions. We know that our desires and actions are unconventional, but we also know that our intentions toward Marlowe are genuine.

As we wait for Marlowe to finish her bath, we share a brief conversation, discussing our next steps. We both understand the importance of communication and consent, and we agree that it’s essential to check in with Marlowe and ensure she feels safe and comfortable moving forward.

Finally, Marlowe emerges from the washroom, her body wrapped in a fluffy towel. She looks tired, yet there’s a hint of contentment in her eyes. We offer her a warm smile, silently assuring her we’re here for her.

“You feeling okay, Marlowe?” Wilder asks gently, his voice filled with genuine concern.

She nods, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I’m just... processing everything. ”

“We here for you, Marlowe,” I say softly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “We’ll take things at your pace now, okay?”

She nods again, and I hand her a pad of paper and a pencil so she can make a list of all the things she needs to be comfortable here.