Cabin of Axes - Bea Paige Page 0,42

in real life would be extremely dangerous. Breath play isn’t for the faint of heart because one squeeze too tight for too long can lead to asphyxiation and death. Yet, our bodies are joined together in carnal pleasure and there’s no mistaking the look of ecstasy on my face, on his.

“Fuck!” Berrin exclaims.

I’m not sure what happens, but I kind of zone out at that point and start moving from statue to statue. There are six in total and in all of them I’m in a sex position, either being fucked by one of the Torben brothers or performing a sexual act on myself whilst restrained. I stop in front of a statue of Mathieson and me and suck in a ragged breath.

“I’ve dreamt about this. This is one of my memories,” I exclaim, my shaking fingers touching the smooth wood. I’m pressed up against the bark of a tree, Mathieson fucking me from behind with his fist wrapped around my hair. His face is filled with relief and release and my cheeks are stained with tears.

Mathieson steps up beside me, his fingers running over the tears cascading down the cheeks of the wooden version of me. “I hurt you,” he mumbles.

“Yes… No. I’m not sure,” I respond because my memory tells me I’d enjoyed this brutal fuck and yet the statue’s painting a different picture all together. I stare at the perfect carving of my face and try to reach the memory, draw it to the forefront of my mind but it won’t reveal itself. When I’d dreamt of this moment I’d been turned on, so turned on that I’d awoken slicked with sweat and with my pussy throbbing between my legs, just like it’s throbbing now in time with the frantic beat of my heart.

“I’m sorry…” he stutters, and the hurt in his voice is mixed with longing and lust. It’s so potent, so heady, that I have to walk away from him and towards another statue of me. This time I’m with Franklin. My wrists are bound to a piece of wood behind my head. My legs are spread apart, and Franklin is kneeling before me, his face buried in my pussy. Attached to my nipples are what appear to be clamps. The expression on my face is one of a woman spent, and thoroughly fucked. It’s so real, so lifelike, that I can almost hear the noises releasing from her open mouth. The muscles on Franklin’s back are taut, defined. One of his hands is clutching my arse whilst the other is pushing a dildo between my legs. There’s no question what he’s doing to me.

“Oh my God, this is…” I blurt out.

Franklin steps up beside me. My skin scatters with goosebumps as his arm brushes against mine. “There’s one more.”

I snatch my head around and follow his gaze towards the shape of another large statue hidden beneath some tarpaulin. “What’s under that?” I ask.

“Something that is going to shock you, sweetheart,” he says, but there’s a rumble in his voice that has my skin prickling and my senses on high alert. The air is fraught with tension as Mathieson and Berrin move closer, their curiosity piqued. Dragging in a soothing breath I walk over to the covered statue and pull the tarpaulin from it.

What I see makes me shudder.

I’m being fucked not by one of the men, not by two, but by all three.

All three men are fucking me. At once.

Franklin is beneath me, his dick spearing my pussy as I sit astride him. Mathieson is entering me from behind whilst Berrin’s cock is deep throating my open mouth. If that wasn’t shocking enough I’m wearing a dog collar that Mathieson is pulling on and my body is wrapped up in rope, binding my arms behind my back in a complicated pattern. My face is covered in tears that belie the look of sheer pleasure on my face.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mathieson grinds out, circling the statue. His eyes widen, his pupils dilate and there’s no mistaking the erection pushing against his jogging bottoms. When his gaze lands on me that lust is palpable.

“This is… I don’t know… I feel… Strange,” I whisper, trying to get my head around the emotions swirling inside my chest. My skin flushes with heat as a sheen of sweat breaks out on my forehead. Dark spots appear in my vision as I stumble backwards into Franklin’s chest.

“I told you to run,” he says, his voice dipped in desire and laced