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been an awful good girl

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ho, ho, ho

He won’t be expecting her, not this early in the morning, and she can’t quite help the arousal that’s fluttering in her stomach as she clutches the gift to her chest. She casts another glance over her shoulder; the Serpent camp is emptied with everyone already having left for school, and the rest of the trailer park had been just as deserted when she walked through, but still. She always feels a little bit like she’s being watched whenever she walks up the steps to the front door, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t love that little burst of thrill, no matter how small and most likely fabricated. She spends almost every day here at the Serpent camp, but no one quite knows that she spends almost every night here as well, being fucked and fucked and fucked.

(She’s not particularly good at being quiet, either, not even with a pillow to bite into or FP’s hand clamped down on her mouth to muffle her; she wouldn’t be surprised if a few Serpents had inklings of what was happening, and that it’s her that’s stumbling out of FP’s trailer in the early mornings.)

FP opens the door with his lips tugged at the corner in that lazy, perpetual smirk that she loves, and it widens when he meets her gaze. It’s freezing out, but he’s in nothing but a pair of sweats hung low on his hips, his torso bared, and she finds herself quickly, unapologetically distracted by the sculpted lines of his abs. 

“That better not be what I think it is,” he says, his voice a dangerous mix of teasing and threatening as he reaches out and pulls the gift from her hands before she can even respond. He holds the slim, wide box out, examining the scarlet red wrapping paper and the slim bundle of mistletoe tied to the front of it with a white, satin ribbon. He taps the corner gently, a glint in his eyes. “It’s not even Christmas yet,” he points out, then arches one eyebrow as he adds, “and I said no presents. You may be able to charm things into your favor with your extravagance, but I don’t care for that bullshit.”

“Trust me, you’ll care for this.” She reaches for the waistband of his sweats and hooking her thumbs under it, peering up at him from under her eyelashes. FP presses his lips together, unimpressed, but she pouts her lower lip and teases her thumbs in circles over his skin, tracing down the V of his hips. “I promised I still followed your rules. I know how fond you are of them.”

He chuckles, reaching up to grab at her hair, twisting it with his fingers. She gasps slightly as he yanks her face closer, stretching her up on her toes, and heat pools low in her stomach. “Always such a brat,” he muses, his breath warm against her cheeks. “Rules aren’t there for you to weasel around just to get your way.” He jerks her head to the side, presses his lips right against her ear and bites down on the lobe of it, hard. “And my rules are meant to be followed without question. Or do you need another crash course in this before school?”

“I can’t,” she whines. “I have a test today, and Vixens practice.”

“Maybe I don’t care.” He leans away and turns her head to look at him again, his grip tightening. “Or maybe I can send you to school with cum in your hair.” He flashes his teeth in a smile at this. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? And don’t lie because I can see it in your eyes that you’re so fucking turned on just thinking about it.” Releasing her hair with another chuckle, he glances back down at the gift in his hand. “Of course, I shouldn’t consider even treating you at all when you’re trying to pull one on me.”

She parts her lips, about to insist that she’s not, that he should open it, anyway, he starts doing exactly that: haphazardly tugging the ribbon off and then tearing into the wrapping paper. She absently wraps her hands around his cock under his sweats as she watches him peel it open, and then he pauses, staring down at what’s in his hands: a slim chalkboard in an ornate frame, twine strung across it in draping rows; and, pinned to each row, a set of small, scarlet -colored envelopes numbered 1 through 25 in white ink.

He glances at her, his expression amused. “An advent calendar?”

She hums, circling the pad of her thumb over the tip of his cock. “Of everything you’ve ever said you wanted to do to me, whether or not we’ve already done it.” She raises her eyebrows, her tongue darting out to wet her lower lip. “All in the spirit of the holidays, of course,” she adds with a cute shrug of her shoulders. “I mixed all of the envelopes before numbering them, so neither of us will know what’s coming when, and we can open it every morning before I’m off to school. I’ll spend all day desperate, wanting, and you’ll spend all day planning out exactly how you’ll play with me.”

He chuckles, low and gravelly and oh so sexy, and it makes her shiver.

“Well, why didn’t you just start with that?”

 

 

day one
jingle bells

“You’ve always had the prettiest tits,” he groans, reaching down to grasp at one of her breasts, squeezing it in his hand. Cheryl gasps and very nearly arches off of the floor, forgetting for one, fleeting second about his command of not moving, and she mewls when his pinches her nipple and gives it a tug. “They always get so fucking red.” FP smacks the underside of her breast and her lips part a little wider as she stares up at him. “Maybe this time they’ll stay red.”

Her sex flutters around the small, glass dildo he’d shoved into her cunt this morning, before she left for school; one small enough that it wasn’t filling her up and stretching her out anywhere nearly as much as she wants, but big enough that she can feel it. That she couldn’t entirely concentrate all day with it trapped inside her from the tightness of her stockings, making her wet with every little shift. Her tweed skirt had hidden the wetness well enough, but it couldn’t hide how flushed she’d felt. More than once, she considered teachers’ offers to send her to the nurse’s office, possibly send her home sick, but she knew that FP wouldn’t like that. He wanted her to go through every period - through every minute of Vixens practice - struggling to keep composed in front of everyone.

Nipple play’

She remembers how much those two words had made her shiver when he read them to her this morning, and that terrifying, arousing swirl in her stomach when he added, “The perfect thing to punish you with, since you technically still defied my no-gift rule.” Oh, and how she was being punished. Stripped down to nothing but her tights (even then, only to keep the dildo in place), spread out on the floor with instructions not to move. FP had tucked her hands between the small of her back between and the floor, smiling wickedly as he watched the realization settle in her eyes that he wasn’t going to tie or pin her down like he did last time. She’d gotten burns from the rope, that’s how hard she’d come, how wildly she’d flailed against her restraints as he tried to see how hard he could push her by teasing her nipples, to see if she could come from that alone.

(She could, but she doubts he’s going to be as generous this time.)

But being forced to stay still with nothing but her own will? It’s so much worse.

Cheryl’s muscles are pulled taut, her skin slick with the effort to keep still as he tugs and tortures her nipples. FP has done nothing but this for the last hour, squeezing her, sucking her into his mouth and biting, hard. He’d taken the clothespin from the first envelope and clamped it over one nipple as he teased the other with an ice cube, then rolled over it with a sensation wheel, alternating until the ice had completely melted. Then he’d moved the pin to the other nipple and grabbed a new ice cub, starting all over again

She’s teetering on the edge, her chest tight, her breaths so shallow that her lungs are slowly starting to burn, needing more air, but she’s afraid to move too much. He didn’t say that he couldn’t come, but she’s almost certain that she’s not supposed to considering she’s barely allowed to move an inch.

“I’ve fucked your tits before,” FP muses, dragging the sensation wheel up between the dip of her breasts, and her breath catches as she feels the small spikes travel up the column of her throat. “But yet, I’ve never come over that pretty little neck of yours.” He pulls the wheel away and tosses it aside on the floor as he stands. He grabs the waist of his sweats and shoves it down, and Cheryl’s mouth all but waters at the sight of his hard, rigid cock, wet with pre-cum. He kicks his sweats off, then reaches over and grabs something off of the side table before moving to kneel over her, straddling her stomach.

“Please,” she whines, her voice shaky, “may I move?”

He ignores her, uncurling his fingers and lowering his hand for her to see what’s in his palm: two small bundles of bells, each attached to clamps. “Had to drop by the store for beer. When I saw these in the decorations aisle, I couldn’t pass them up.” He takes one in each hand and she sucks in a breath, going still as he clamps one over each of her nipples. A sharp, short cry escapes her throat at the pain, and then he smacks one of her breasts, the bells jingling with the motion. “Fuck, look at you.” He reaches for her arms, pulling her hands out from under her and guiding them to hold her breasts, squeezing them together. Even this small strain makes her nipples tighten, making the clamp feel tighter, and her sex throbs.

Ah...” Cheryl swallows, licking her lips. “Please.”

“You like them?” FP shifts, the heavy, underside of his cock dragging against her skin. “I may have to buy more. Maybe some tinsel and lights, too. Make you my own personal Christmas tree.” He slides forward, slipping into the channel that’s formed between her breasts with them pressed together like this, and the bells chime with every jiggle. She whines, almost arching her back up, but he tightens his legs around her. “Until I come, don’t even think about moving.

She whimpers, her vision going blurry with need as he continues fucking her tits at a slow, leisurely pace.

 

 

day eight
naughty or nice

She feels the dull throb pulse through his cock against her tongue as she licks up the length of him, flicking at the head before drawing it between her lips and sucking. Cheryl glances up at FP from under her eyelashes, taking in the way he’s sprawled out on the couch, his elbow thrown up against the back of it, his hand lazily clutching at his beer. His other hand is twisted in her hair, his grip laxed as he lets her work him with his mouth at her own pace, having just come for a third time in two hours.

FP had stuck another toy in her, this time a vibrating bullet, and told her not to come before he’d all but shoved her out of the trailer. He didn’t say anything about checking on her to make sure she didn’t, and Cheryl knew this particular toy had a short range for the remote. It wasn’t until she was halfway through her second period that she felt it turn on at full force, nearly making her throw her head back in the middle of their lecture, and she realized that he was at the school - in the building, no less, since the parking lot was still too far out of range. She’d almost come in four times before the bell rang for lunch, and when she slipped into the back of the library after FP told her to go there via text, she found him lounging on the floor against a stack of books with his laptop perched on his knee. He didn’t tell her what he was doing at the school, or what he was working on; he simply unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock and drew her onto his lap to straddle him, keeping his cock nestled in her through her entire lunch period as he continued working on his laptop over her shoulder.

“I fucking loved ‘cock-warming’ and I figured if we’ve already opened that envelope, there’s no harm in revisiting it,” FP had whispered in her ear. “Having you spend all night on my cock, wet and squirming, your tight pussy clutching at me. I needed a taste of that again.” Cheryl tried to lean back to look at him, but he had grabbed her hair and yanked her forward, clearly not wanting him to see what was on his screen.

Now she knew why.

FP had been cumulating his favorite footage of their sex tapes, editing them together to create hours and hours of him fucking her, coming on her, tying her town and making her squeal with toys. She wasn’t sure how he’d interpret the ‘naughty or nice’ envelope, purposefully making it vague for her to further surprise her with, as she had with a handful of the envelopes, and she certainly isn’t disappointed. He’d stripped her down and pulled her down onto his cock as he told her that they would be watching their tapes to determine just how naughty she’s been - and whether naughty is a good thing from how dirty and desperate she is, or a bad thing from how many times she’d broken rules and couldn’t follow orders, he hadn’t shared just yet.

And, with his hand keeping her firmly in place on his cock, Cheryl hasn’t had a chance to ask.

(“Figured if we revisited ‘cock-warming’ today, might as well stick with the theme and revisit ‘cock worship’ too.”)

Two hours of footage later, and only barely halfway through, and she’s dripping onto the couch. Two hours of watching him throw her down onto the floor and the couch and the bed, smacking her, forcing her legs apart, pinning her arms above her head. She watched the night he had tied her down to the bed and strapped a butterfly vibe to her clit, edging her for an hour and a half as he sat next to her twitching body, drinking beer and watching TV. She watched the night he made her hold her legs open so he could spank her pussy; the night he bent her over the back of the couch and fucked her through three orgasms until he’d come all over her ass and the backs of her thighs; the night he ate her out in his bedroom with the door cracked open, the sounds of Jughead and Toni chattering coming in from the kitchen while Cheryl muffled her orgasms behind her hands so her girlfriend and his son wouldn’t hear.

He hadn’t put the clips in any particular order, either, so she’d already watched the tapes from last week that had been thrown into the mix: fucking her tits with jingle bells, sucking him off all night and getting coated with spurts and spurts of cum, sitting on his cock as he carried her around the trailer and went about his night with her whining and clinging onto him. Then there had been the night he’d tied her up with twinkling lights for ‘bondage’ and clamped bells onto her again to make her his Christmas tree, and the night she’d worn sexy Mrs. Claus lingerie for his ‘striptease.’ The night she spent as his ‘naked house maid’ doing chores while completely stripped down, sporadically being bent over and taken by him from behind. The night he’d given her some kind of aphrodisiac for ‘drugging’ that had kept her perpetually aroused, that made her body limp and pliant as he fucked her all over the trailer, bend and twisted and flexed in almost every position he could think of.

Tightening his hand on her hair, FP pulls Cheryl’s mouth further down his cock until he hits the back of her throat, and she digs her nails into the couch. He shifts his hips up, just barely. She exhales through her nose as she parts her lips a little wider, relaxing her throat so he can slide in deeper, deeper, until he’s almost bottomed out in her mouth. He holds her there, groaning out, “Naughty girl.” The sounds of her orgasm fill the air from his laptop, starting with a keening moan and dissolving into breathy chants, and she feels her lungs starting to burn. “Such a fucking naughty little girl, taking my cock all the way down her throat while she’s dripping wet from watching herself being fucked and defiled.”

Cheryl’s heart pounds in her chest, a shot of panic going through her right before FP groans again and pulls her up and off of his cock. Drool drips from her lips as she sucks in a gasp, coughing slightly, her eyes wet with tears as he massages his fingers over her scalp. “I think my naughty girl deserves a reward,” he says, and, with a twinkle in his eyes, he turns her head toward the laptop once more and pulls her lips back to his tip. “After we finish the rest of the videos.”

 

 

day twelve
good will towards men

She knows they’re watching her; she can feel the press of their stares, can hear their appreciative groans and filthy words encouraging FP to fuck her harder and make her squeal, and the humiliation of it blooms in her stomach, hot and so full of arousal that she thinks she grows wetter, if possible. Her legs shake, about to give out from the force that FP is fucking her with as she tightens her grip on the ornate back of the chair she’s bent over. She’d known that FP was going to offer her to mouth to the shady mobsters he’d struck a deal with to get leverage over Penny Peabody; it had been the whole reason for bringing her along after he’d opened up the ‘submissive servant’ envelope this morning.

Cheryl hadn’t anticipated him stripping her down and fucking her through two - and soon to be three - orgasms right in front of them, in the middle of their private room hidden behind the casino. He’d told her to come decked to the nines since the boss had a taste for luxury, and so she’d shown up in a silk, scarlet evening gown with her hair curled and tossed over one shoulder, black stockings and strappy stilettos peeking out from under the hem and between the long slit up both sides of her dress - only to have FP bend her over the table, hike the skirt of her dress up and twist it in his fingers, using it as leverage to fuck her. Then, as her body shuddered with her first orgasm, he’d ripped it from her and dragged out a chair, angling her to the side and bending her over again as he sank back into her, to give their audience “a better view of the show.”

“She’s certainly exquisite, Jones,” the boss compliments, his voice gravelly with his own arousal. “And clearly willing to please you by coming here.”

“Well, my pleasure is her pleasure, after all,” FP replies, his voice gruff like it gets when she knows he’s close. He reaches around and roughly cups her cunt as his thumb circles her clit quickly, and she keens, her knees giving out under the force of her orgasm and falling against the chair cushion. He shoves her forward, getting her centered on her knees in the middle of the chair for balance as he wraps his other hand around her throat and pulls her trembling body up against his chest. He has to slow his thrusts just a little bit with the shift in position, but he’s fucking her even deeper at this angle with every single stroke, her pussy spasming around him, and it’s not long before he groans as his cum starts to spill inside of her.

After a long moment, he eases his grip on her, pulling out of her sore, aching cunt and pulling her off of the chair and back onto her heels. He holds her against him and grabs one of her thighs, spreading her open, and Cheryl feels their cum starting to drip out of her, warm and wet and sticky. She feels him gather her hair and brush it over her shoulder, baring her neck - and the bright colored hickey she knows is visible against her fair complexion over her pulse.

“There’s nothing that this little girl isn’t down for,“ FP tells them, letting Cheryl lean against his body for support as he tucks himself back into his slacks and zips it up. “Just yesterday, I made her cum from just the vibrations of my bike, then I fucked her over the hood of her car. The day before that, we climbed up some random house and fucked up on the rooftop, so everyone up and down the block could hear her beg and squeal. And the day before that?” He strokes a hand down her hair, tender, then grabs it and twists it in his fingers and tugs her down before she can catch her breath, and she lets out a sharp moan as she falls to her knees. “While I had dealers in and out all day to talk business, she dropped to her knees whenever I pulled out a bundle of mistletoe. Sucked me off no matter how many times I didn’t let her come, and sucked off every guy I gave the mistletoe to.” She can hear the smirk in his voice as he adds, “She’s really into the holiday spirit.”

Cheryl lifts her head, catching the boss’s gaze as it hungrily fixes on her mouth. “So you’re willing to share her, is what I’m hearing.”

“When someone is an asset to me, there’s nothing I won’t spoil them with.” FP’s hand comes down on her ass and she moans again, crawling forward until she’s kneeling in front of the boss’s leather chair, her face hovering inches away from the bulge of his hard-on in his pants. “Think of it as a down payment for what I owe you, for giving me leverage over Penny Peabody.” FP chuckles, and Cheryl hears the soft creasing of leather as he sits down in one of the armchairs. “She knows that she’ll follow your orders the same way she follows mine tonight, so please. Enjoy. She’s got such a tight, pretty little throat.”

The boss chuckles as he reaches down and grabs her hair - though not nearly as rough as FP - to pull her toward his crotch. “Rub yourself on me while you suck me off,” he orders, releasing her, and she licks her lips as she reaches for the buckle of his belt. She shifts forward, moving to straddle his shoe as she works off his belt, and the hard, thick length of his cock slaps against her cheek when she pulls him from his slacks. Her tongue darts out, licking a long, broad stripe up the underside of his cock, them taking his tip in and sucking, hard, the way she knows FP loves it, and the boss lets out a low, appreciative groan as he grabs her hair again. He shoves her lips down his cock until he hits the back of her throat, groaning louder when she swallows around him. “Fuck, this mouth is sublime. FP, I may have to give my gentlemen here a taste, if you don’t mind.”

“Go right ahead.” Cheryl can hear the smirk in FP’s voice. “Give them the whole damn meal, if you want.”

The rough drag of the boss’s shoelaces are teasing her already oversensitive pussy, making her body shake with the pleasure that hasn’t entirely stopped vibrating through her veins from her third orgasm. “You heard that, doll?” Her clit catches on the knot of his lace, making her moan around him, and the boss lets out a low hum. “Maybe once you’ve taken care of my and my men here, I’ll think about letting you come.” He tightens his grip on her, tugging her further down his cock, pushing into her throat, and she grasps onto his thighs and whimpers as he slides he all the way down his length.

Behind her, FP chuckles. “Now, let’s get to business, gentlemen.”

 

 

day fifteen
filled with joy

Her heart skips when his phone goes off with a text alert, and FP chuckles, draining the last of his beer as he stands. “That would be our guest of honor,” he announces, rubbing the bottleneck against Cheryl’s aching, dripping cunt, right next to the vibrating wand he’d tied to her thigh and left buzzing for the last hour. He slides the glass inside of her and she squeals, trying to fuck back against it for release, but she can barely move with the way she’s tied down: on her knees, with her cheek pressed against the bed and her wrists tied to the bottom of the headboard, her ass lifted in the air. Her legs are pried apart with the spreader bars he’d cuffed to, and she’s still sore from when he used them on her the yesterday for ‘overstimulation', when she was on this very position on the living room floor and left to come over and over again from the vibrating dildo and anal plug stuffed inside of her and the butterfly vibe strapped to her clit.

FP slides the bottle out, then switches the wand a few notches down, and Cheryl exhales shakily. It feels as if, for every time she came last night while he lounged around and watched TV, he’s denied it from her tonight. She’s come close more times than she can count, and he’s suddenly switched it off right at the precipice, then switched it back one when she’s calmed down, starting it all over again.

“...what’s this all about?” Cheryl hears Fangs asking as FP pushes the door open again, and then he murmurs, “oh, fuck,” under his breath. She feels her cheeks flush even more, if possible, humiliation and pure arousal swirling tightly in her stomach. “Is...” Fangs inhales sharply, licks his lips. “Is that...?”

“Yeah, it is.” FP grasps her hair and yanks it to the side, pulling her head up and twisting her neck to the side so that Fangs can see her face. “Say hi, baby girl.”

“Hi, Fangs,” she replies, breathless, watching as he brings a hand up and wipes it over his mouth, his gaze sliding down the curve of her naked body and settling on her wet pussy. A shiver rolls down her spine as he stares, and stares, his hand twitching over his jaw as if he’s itching to touch her. He glances at FP for a moment, waiting, and FP must nod in approval because then Fangs walks up to the edge of the bed and reaches forward, sinking two fingers into Cheryl’s pussy with ease. She moans, hips bucking back against him, and she turns her head to look up at FP with a whine. “Please.”

He smirks. “That’s up to our guest for the rest of tonight. Ask Fangs.”

Fangs pulls his two fingers out and pushes three back in, her walls fluttering. “Ask me what?”

“Permission to come.” FP yanks her head up a little more, arching her neck as she stares back into his glinting eyes. “Cheryl here hasn’t come all day, because tonight, all of her orgasms belong to you.” He turns to look at FP, his lips ticking up in a grin. “You’re a good kid, Fangs. The Serpents can rely on you, and you never give me trouble. So I thought I’d give you a little reward.” He slides his hand from her hair and along her spine, curving over her ass, her body twitching as his fingers brush the rim of her asshole. “I spent the other day stuffing this little hole full, so her ass is mine. But her tight cunt? Tonight, that’s all yours.”

There’s a long pause, and for a moment, Cheryl thinks he may back out.

But then Fangs curls his fingers inside of her, making her squeal, and asks, “Mind if we get rid of the bars?”

FP chuckles. “I was hoping you’d ask that.”

She feels their hands on her in the next breath, working the cuffs of the bars from her knees and ankles and unknotting the rope keeping the wand tied to her cunt, and her body quivers, her muscles aching in her attempt to keep herself upright rather than collapse into the mattress like she wants to. Then she feels one of them grab her by her shoulders, shoving her back so that she’s flipped over and sprawled out across the mattress. Fangs grasps her knees, dragging her ass over the edge of the bed, and he grabs one of her ankles and lifts it onto his shoulder as he presses the other one down against the bed, stretching her out. His eyes darken as he guides her leg further, flexing her, and he murmurs, “Shit, she’s fucking flexible,” with an appreciative groan, before letting go to work off his jeans.

“Don’t be afraid to take advantage of that. Makes her feel even tighter.” FP chuckles, handing over his emptied beer bottle to Fangs once he’s pulled out his cock, then reaching for the front of his jeans to do the same. “Use that for me to get her ready, alright?” FP says, nodding to the beer bottle, and Cheryl feels her heart stutter as she watches Fangs nod while grinning down at her, guiding his cock to her pussy rubbing herself in its wetness. She shakes, and the arousal from the wand that had just started to fade is ignited again, fanning over her in waves as he slides his cock up and down, coating himself thoroughly.

Then she feels FP grab her face, twisting it to the side as he climbs onto the bed and kneels in front of her, his cock dangling by her face. He guides her face closer as his tip hits her lips, and she parts them for him so she can slip inside, licking her tongue along his shaft as she sucks him deeper into her mouth. He groans lowly, sliding his hand to the column of her neck and squeezing as he hits the back of her throat. Cheryl whimpers, about to take him in deeper, but then she feels Fangs thrust into her without warning, and her body arches off of the bed as he stretches her out, hitting her deep. 

He falls into a quick pace, fucking her cunt just as FP starts to fuck her mouth, and it’s disorienting, the difference in their pace. Fangs’ is jagged and harsh, rapidly picking up into a brutal pace, while FP seems to be taking his time with her mouth, gyrating his hips slowly. It’s dizzying to have both sensations at once and Cheryl feels her vision blur with pleasure, her eyes going glassy and hazy. FP hits the back of her throat again, and again, and she feels Fangs circling her clit with the rim of the beer bottle before starting to rub it over her wetness, and her body trembles and writhes.

“Come as many times as you want, because I plan on squeezing every last drop out of you,” Fangs tells Cheryl, pulling the bottle away and then pressing it at her ass. He reaches with his other hand to spread her cheeks apart, and then the rim of the bottle is pressing right at her asshole. She can tell that it’s coated with her wetness, but even if it wasn’t, her arousal is sliding from her cunt and down between her ass cheeks as Fangs is fucking her, so she knows she’s more than ready to take it.

FP shifts his knees, moving with his cock still in Cheryl’s mouth until he’s lined up with her body, her neck arched and the back of her head pressing into the mattress so that he can still fuck her mouth “Fangs asked you a question,” FP taunts, and, before she can even try to react, he starts to push into her throat. Her body writhes, her nails scratching at the sheets, twisting it with her fingers. “But I suppose you can’t exactly answer right now, can you?”

Then Fangs pushes the bottle into her asshole, easing it into her as he slows the pace of his thrusts to do so, and he lets out a long, rumbling moan. “Oh, fuck.” He thrusts deep into her, shoving the bottle in deeper, too, and Cheryl feels her eyes blur with tears at being so stuffed. She’s so aroused that her skin feels as if it’s burning, her walls clamping and fluttering around Fangs’ cock, her lungs burning for air. She pulls at the sheets, trying to move, her vision growing blurrier --

And then FP pulls out of her throat, until just the tip of him is between her lips, and she parts her mouth and grasps for air as her body slumps back down against the mattress. Fangs starts fucking her again, building back up to his brutal pace from before as he holds the bottle in place in her ass. She stares up at him as tears roll down her cheek, and he asks, “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” Cheryl breathes.

Good,” Fangs answers with a grin, fucking her harder, and then FP is leaning forward, covering her body with his as he dips is head down and sucks at her clit, and she knows she would be screaming if not for the cock sliding deeper into her mouth.

 

 

day eighteen
silent night

“Don’t know if I can wait until we get home,” FP murmurs into her ear, and Cheryl’s vision blurs a little more as she feels him up the vibrations to the butterfly vibe he’d strapped to her before they left for Riverdale High. She could barely even remember planning a film night for the Vixens’ holiday fundraiser, and as head Vixen she’d been obligated to attend, even though Betty had taken care of most of the work this time around. FP had arrived an hour ago with the rest of the Serpents, pulled her into the bathroom and strapped the vibe to her, setting it to a low, teasing setting, before smirking and leaving her to help run the fundraiser.

Cheryl was flushed and wet and struggling to control her breaths by the time they turned off the lights to start the movie, and she took a spot at the darkest part in the back of the gym, feeling the vibrations speed up a few more notches. FP had teased her all through How the Grinch Stole Christmas, upping and lowering the vibrations as she squirmed, and it wasn’t until they were playing the next movie that FP slipped under the blanket, settling in beside her. He’d pried her legs apart and cupped her dripping sex, pressing the vibe tighter against her clit and very nearly making her squeal.

“I wonder if everyone in here can smell you.” FP slips his thumb down as he strokes it over her folds, pushing it into her entrance, and Cheryl’s eyes dart around at the people nearby. They’re the only two sitting up against the wall, not in anyone’s peripheral glance unless they decided to turn their heads around, but thrill of being caught - being watched - makes her feel hazy and alert all at once. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you set it up so that ‘coming in public’ fell on tonight. I’m sure your classmates would enjoy the show.”

Then FP hooks a hand over her thigh, dragging her to him and onto his lap, and she feels the hard bulge in front of his jeans brush against her cunt.

Her heart skips. “Here?’ Cheryl licks her lips, glancing around again. She thought he’d drag her to the bathroom, or at least under the bleachers...

“Here,” he confirms with a whisper in her ear, his hand slipping between them to unbutton the front of his jeans. “Now.” Cheryl feels the tip of him press against her entrance when he pulls his hard cock out, and her knees are shaking when she shifts to brace her weight on them, the butterfly vibe still buzzing against her clit. FP grasps her hips and shoves her down onto his cock in one stroke, and she tosses her head back, barely slapping her hand over her mouth before she can make a sound. “I’m not stopping until I come, so you better hurry. Think the Vixens will be making their rounds soon to pass out more candy.”

She pulls her shaking hand away from her mouth, biting down hard on her lower lip to muffle a whimper. She leans forward just a little more, making him slide in deeper, making her walls clamp around him tighter as she braces her hands on the floor and starts to circle her hips. FP’s chest rumbles in a silent groan as he starts fucking up into her faster, harder, reaching around to press the vibe down against her clit, and yanks the blanket up and bites it between her teeth as her orgasm bursts over her. Her vision blurs, and she thinks she sees someone in front of them begin to move, maybe turn around, but FP only fucks her harder.

“Never was all that fond of movie candy,” FP murmurs with a chuckle, “but maybe if I run it over your cunt, it’ll be worth eating. You remember how delicious we taste together, don’t you?” Cheryl whimpers, her orgasm hitting her harder, if possible, as she remembers the way he’d spread her over the kitchen table and ate her out, over and over, until her cum was dripping across the wooden surface, then fucked herself in her mouth until he could pull out and paint her with his cum, his release mixing with hers where it stuck to the table and her skin. He’d fed her chocolates after, dipping them through their cum and pushing them into her lips, and she’d moaned through every bite. “Then when we’re done with that, I’ll make you crawl over to concession table to get us more just like you did yesterday, my little reindeer: naked and dripping with our cum and on all fours. I should’ve brought your antler headband, and your little tail.”

Toward the front of the gymnasium, Cheryl can see the Vixens moving, starting to gather more candy and popcorn to hand out, and her heart stutters in her.

“FP...” she murmurs, her voice shaky.

“Better hurry up and make me come before we get caught,” he murmurs, digging his fingers into her hips. He slides a little further down, changing the angle and hitting a spot inside of her that nearly makes her eyes cross. With a soft whine, she lets go of the blanket to brace both hands on the floor again as she starts to ride him harder, faster, making the blanket slip from over their waists. She almost lifts her hand to pull it back up, but FP bats it hand away and yanks the blanket down further, fucking her harder.

“Don’t bother.” She can hear the smirk in his voice. “If someone is going to catch us, might was well give them a show.”

 

 

day twenty-one
dreaming of a white christmas

Cheryl gasps as she feels another warm spurt of cum hit her skin, this time directly over her neck and into her hair, some of it splashing on her parted lips as she wriggles and squirms, tugging against her binds. Not for the first time since FP spread her out and tied her down to his bed, she whimpers, wanting to hear him come undone, wanting to watch every drop of it shoot onto her skin. She can feel his cum everywhere, not a single inch of her skin left uncovered as he jerks off above her prone body.

But she can’t see him, can’t hear him; not with her own scarf tied over her eyes and headphones placed over her ears, the volume turned all the way up as she listens to the sounds of their sex tapes on loop. She has no concept of time, no idea how long she’s been tied here, listening to the sounds of his groaning and dirty, depraved words and her squealing and begging and moaning, as FP stands over and comes all over her. She can feel parts of it already drying to her skin, parts of it still dripping down between her legs and over the glass dildo and princess plug he’d stuffed inside of her. The sticky slide of it over her clit is enough stimulation to make her feel tingly, but not nearly enough to feel any kind of relief.

She flinches as his hand cups her throat, his thumb pressing just a little too harshly as he rubs his cum into her skin.

“Please, fuck me,” Cheryl whines, her voice sounding muddled and faraway to her ears through the headphones - and then it’s loud and almost booming into her ear as she screams out in orgasm in whatever video is playing now. Her shivers at her own keening moan filling her ear and drowning everything else out as FP’s thumb continues rubbing at the cum against her throat. She thinks she hears his chuckle, but she can’t quite tell; not with the sound of her squeals and his groans in her ear as he fucks her harder in the video.

FP’s hand brushes the underside of her ass, grabbing the base of the glass dildo and twisting it with his fingers, making her moan and tug at his belts again. She feels the underside of his cock hit her face as he toys with the dildo, and she tips her head up, licking at his shaft and feeling it pulse and twitch. His hand comes down on the inside of her thigh, sharp but not brutal (not yet, at least), and she feels some of his cum slide onto her tongue. Cheryl twists her neck, following the curve of his cock until she reaches the tip, and she sucks it between her lips.

FP draws back, and then she’s gasping when he suddenly pulls out the dildo out of her. She feels the belt at her right wrist loosen, then fall away, and then he does the same to her other wrist and then both of her ankles other before yanking the headphones off, and Cheryl feels her body shudder at the sudden quiet after hearing the sounds of their fucking in her ear for so long. He twists his hand in her hair and tugs her up, and then he pulls the scarf over her head, making her blink and flinch back at the sudden light.

“Look how fucking gorgeous you are, covered in my cum,” FP chuckles, his voice hot right next to her ear as Cheryl blinks her eyes, her vision blurring back into focus. She finds herself staring at her reflection in the small standing mirror FP usually has propped up behind his door, but he’s placed it directly across from the bed, giving her a perfect sight of her naked body perched in the middle of the bed, her fair complexion painted with FP’s cum as it drips down her body.

Her tongue darts, licking her lips, and he smirks at her in the reflection.

“The only spot I didn’t get is your face,” he says, reaching up to stroke his thumb across her cheek, smearing a bit of cum against it. “But I’m saving that.”

“For what?” she asks, and then gasps as FP tugs her by her hair, pulling her forward and making her stumble off of the bed.

He tugs her out of the bedroom, and Cheryl feels her breath catch, her heart skipping a beat as she sees that there are people gathered in the living room; Serpents. There are only a handful of them, and though she recognizes every face, she’s certain the only ones she’s spoken to are Fangs and Sweet Pea, who are both smirking at her from their perch on the couch as their eyes drag down her cum-covered body. Fang’s eyes are glinting as he meets her gaze, and she feels her arousal growing tighter in her stomach as she remembers how, just the other day, he’d pulled her onto his cock and fucked her cunt while FP fucked her ass.

“Isn’t she a beauty, boys?” FP asks, brushing a chunk of Cheryl’s cum-slicked hair over her shoulder.

There’s a murmur of agreement around the room, a few whistles, and she feels her cheeks flush, though she knows it’s not out of embarrassment. FP lifts a hand, waving someone forward, and Fangs gets this crooked sort of grin on his lips as he stands and walks over to them. FP tugs at her Cheryl’s hair, spinning her around, and she mewls as he pulls her down and onto her knees. She feels Fangs hook a hand around her thigh, prying her legs apart, and her cheeks flush even more as she hears the Serpents murmur about her dripping wet cunt, and the sparkling princess plug in her ass.

“Tonight, her pussy is yours to share,” FP continues, and Cheryl shivers as she feels his hand run down her spine, “and you can cum over every clean inch of skin you can find. Except for her face.” He tucks his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up, and he grasps his cock with his other hand and brings it to her lips. “She’s either going to get a nice soak in my cum, or she’s going to drink every last drop. I haven’t decided yet, but maybe you fellas can put it to a vote while Fangs gets us started.”

Cheryl whimpers as she feels Fangs press at her entrance, but then FP is yanking her forward, pulling her onto his cock, and they both thrust into her so quickly that she feels her eyes nearly cross in pleasure.

 

 

day twenty-four
stocking stuffers

Ah,” she mewls, fingers twisting in the sheets, spine arching off of the bed as she feels FP push the widest part of the oddly-shaped glass ornament into her. The ridges stimulate the walls of her already-sensitive cunt as he twists it inside of her, swirling the small vibrator tighter against her clit. Another small, quivering orgasm washes over Cheryl, her ass clenching around the thick anal plug as it pulses in vibrations inside of her, and her eyes practically roll into the back of her head.

She’s lost count of the number of orgasms that FP has given her ever since she handed him the small stocking full of sex toys, but she’s certain she’s come at least once with every single toy that’s been stuffed inside of her, or clamped onto her nipples, or used to whip or strike her skin: five different sizes of dildos and three types of anal plugs, anal beads and a dozen vibrators, nipple clamps and gags and floggers. He’s used them all on her, in countless combinations, to wring out orgasm after orgasm, and she’s about two seconds away from passing out when he finally pulls the vibe off of her clit. She blinks up at him, bleary and heavy-lidded, watching as he licks her juices off of the vibe before tossing it to the bed with the rest of the used toys.

Cheryl is covered in cum yet again, her throat still sore from when FP had fucked her mouth, and every part of her aches from being flexed and stretched and bent in almost any position she could think of. He twists the ornament inside of her once more, making her writhe and gasp, and then he eases it out and wipes her cum off of it on the outside of her thigh before tossing it aside, too. The plug is still vibrating in waves in her ass, but it’s dull enough that she doesn’t fill smothered with sensation and pleasure, and she can finally catch her breath.

“Don’t pass out on me now,” FP chuckles as he grasps her hips and slides her higher up the bed.

Cheryl whimpers, a shudder rolling down her spine, and then she sucks in a gasp as she feels his tongue lick a firm stroke against her folds, right over her clit. He sucks it between his lips, moaning, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through her as she starts to shake her head. She can’t tell if the tightening in her chest is from more arousal or out of protest from how much pleasure he’d squeezed from her, but she’s certain it doesn’t matter. She’s exhausted, blissed out and pushed to orgasm over and over and over again on toys alone, and he hasn't had his cock anywhere inside her other than her mouth. She knows they’re not done yet - far from it - and she’s not quite sure how to keep from blacking out in pleasure.

FP pushes three fingers into her with ease, fucking her fast and hard, and Cheryl sucks in a gasp as her body curls forward, twitching, trying to escape the unrelenting sensations pulsing through her. “Too much,” she cries, gripping the sheets tighter, but it only makes him fuck her faster, suck her harder. “I can’t.

“Don’t care,” he murmurs against her cunt, licking her again and then biting lightly at her clit, making her body jump. “I haven’t gotten to fuck your pussy yet, or your ass. Haven’t gotten you ride me. Haven’t done half the things I want to do to you yet.” He grasps her calf and forces her legs further apart, making her mewl at the ache of protest in her muscles. “It’s Christmas Eve, after all, and I know how much you enjoy waiting up to open presents.”

He curls his fingers, hooks his thumb over her clit and circles, and she keens out another moan as he pushes her closer and closer to yet another orgasm.

“I’m going to fuck you until you’ve fucked me dry, or until you black out. Even then, maybe not.” FP smirks, watching Cheryl as she writhes and rides out the waves of the orgasm that hits her, her eyes watering as her entire body flushes in pleasure. “So you better plan on staying up to catch Santa, little girl,” he drawls, taunting, smug, and so fucking sexy. “I don’t plan to stop fucking you until it’s Christmas Day.”