MasukI knew the moment he closed the bedroom door that I wasn’t leaving this room the same.He didn’t say a word at first. He just pointed at the center of the bed where the black silk ropes were already laid out, neat and waiting. My stomach flipped. I could already feel myself getting wet and I hated how obvious it was.“Clothes off. Fold them. Then get on the bed.”My hands shook as I stripped. Every piece of clothing felt like it was being peeled away in front of an audience, even though it was only him. When I was naked I climbed onto the mattress and lay on my back like I knew he wanted. He didn’t rush. He took his time binding my wrists high above my head, pulling the rope tight enough that I couldn’t lower my arms even an inch. Then my ankles—each one dragged outward and secured so my legs were forced wide open. The last rope went around my waist and under the mattress, locking my hips down so I couldn’t squirm or close my thighs no matter how much I needed to.I was completely exp
I was still lying on the table, ass raised, pussy open and leaking the thick mixture of my cream and Marco’s cum in long, sticky strands onto the steel, when they moved me again.Marco lay back on the long prep table and pulled me over him by the hips. His cock was still rigid, shiny and dark, coated in everything that had just poured out of me. I straddled his waist. He gripped the base of his shaft and dragged the thick head up and down through my soaked folds, collecting more cream, before pushing up as I sank down.I took him slowly. The broad head forced my entrance open again, stretching the already-used rim. Inch by inch the heavy shaft sank into my cunt until my ass rested fully against his hips and I could feel him throbbing deep against my cervix. A long, broken moan spilled out of me at the fullness.Theo stepped in behind me.I heard the soft click of a bottle. Warm oil dripped between my cheeks. His fingers followed—two thick ones, slick and insistent—pressing against my
“No,” both of them said at once.Theo pushed his cock back into my mouth before I could beg again. Marco kept working his fingers inside me—deep, curling strokes that made wet, filthy sounds against the stainless steel—only to slow or stop the second my walls started to flutter. My moans stayed muffled and desperate around Theo’s shaft.They didn’t keep me like that for long.Marco pulled his fingers free, shiny with my cream, and nodded at Theo. Theo slid out of my mouth. Together they flipped me onto my stomach on the long prep table, hips pulled to the very edge so my feet barely touched the floor. Marco stepped between my legs. I felt the thick head of his cock drag through my soaked folds once, twice, coating himself.Then he slammed in.The single hard thrust forced a loud, broken cry out of me. He didn’t give me time to adjust. He gripped my hips and fucked me hard—deep, punishing strokes that made the entire table shake and my breasts drag against the cold metal. The wet slap
The stainless steel was freezing against my bare back and ass. My legs hung off the edge of the prep table. Marco and Theo pushed my knees up and wide, spreading me completely open under the bright kitchen lights. Cream was still leaking from my pussy onto the metal in slow, shiny trails from everything they had already done to me in the corner.Marco reached for the nearest utensil drawer without looking away from my cunt.He pulled out a clean metal spoon.The back of it was smooth and cold. He didn’t press it to me right away. First he used the fingers of his free hand to spread me open.He pinched the soft outer lips and pulled them apart, then carefully pushed back the hood of my clit with his thumb and forefinger, exposing the swollen, shiny pearl completely. Cool kitchen air hit the most sensitive part of me. I whimpered. My thighs tried to close on instinct. Theo’s hands locked around them and held me wide.“Keep her open,” Marco said.Theo’s thumbs dug into my inner thighs, f
My name is Fiona, and I am the only female chef in this kitchen.I’m good at what I do. Better than most of the men who share the line with me. My sauces never break. My timing is perfect. My knife work is clean. But there is another kind of cooking I am even better at, the kind that happens between my own legs when the heat of the kitchen gets under my skin and won’t leave.Today the pass was slamming. Tickets flying. Everyone moving fast. The air smelled of seared meat, garlic, and hot oil. My whites were already damp with sweat. Every time I bent to check a pan, the seam of my pants pressed against my clit just enough to make me pulse.I looked around. The two senior chefs were deep in the weeds on the grill. The commis were plating. No one was watching the corner near the walk-in.I slipped away.Back against the cool stainless steel, I unbuttoned my pants with one hand and shoved them down just far enough. My fingers found my pussy already slick. I pushed two inside myself withou
Marcus finally switched the vibrator off.The sudden silence in the room felt almost violent after the constant buzz. My legs were shaking so hard I could barely stand. Cream ran in thick trails down my inner thighs and dripped onto the floor. My bound breasts ached, nipples dark and swollen from the vibrator and his teeth. The handcuffs bit into my wrists every time I trembled.He stepped in front of me so I could see him clearly in the mirror.Without a word he unlocked the cuffs. The metal fell away. Blood rushed back into my hands with a sharp tingle. Next he unwound the rope from my breasts, slow enough that I felt every coil release. My breasts dropped, heavy and marked, the skin under the rope flushed and sensitive. I sucked in a shaky breath.Marcus tossed the rope aside.“On the bed. Hands and knees.”I crawled onto the mattress on unsteady limbs. He followed, still fully dressed except for his open jeans and the thick cock that stood heavy and flushed between them. He shoved







