Raised By Wolves update

Kitty went behind Laura. Using some of the Vaseline, she lubed up her strap-on while Laura sighed and quivered in enjoyment of her anticipation. Kitty pushed her slippery dildo between Laura’s jutting buttocks, into her anus, and it opened her further and further, sinking into her anal passage. Kitty could feel the warmth coming off Laura’s ass as it closed around the shaft of her strap-on. It was clenched tightly all around the dildo’s length, gripping it lovingly as Kitty pumped it into Laura.

“Unh!”

“Ohh!”

The two groans were second apart. Kitty had finally thrust her dildo all the way into Laura, making her body jolt forward with the impact. And that motion sent Laura’s dildo deep into Betsy, penetrating just as deeply into her as Kitty had penetrated into Laura.

Laura craned her neck to give Kitty a smile of satisfaction not just in the pleasure she’d felt, but what she’d inflicted on Betsy. “You’re fucking us both at once. We’re both your bitches!”

“Damn straight,” Kitty said, brushing Laura’s hair with her lips, making the girl coo before she thrust into her again. Thrust into Betsy. Her hands slid over the flat of Laura’s hips, as if she could feel the presence of her buried dildo deep within Laura’s flesh.  “Move with me. Go forward when I thrust and move back when I’m coming out. I will fuck you both, Kitty. And you get to fuck Betsy while I’m fucking you!”

Kitty moved. Laura moved with her, submissive to her. Helplessly, receiving and enduring, Betsy moved with both of them. Every strong thrust of Kitty’s long strap-on jarred Laura forward; her dildo stabbed deeply into Betsy’s asshole. As Kitty withdrew, Laura followed a second later, as if chasing the dildo jutting from Kitty’s groin. 

Then, when Kitty stopped, Laura fucked herself on the strap-on, impaling her asshole on its length while relieving Betsy’s ravaged anus of its penetration. The next deep thrust from Laura started the process all over again.

Looking over Laura’s shoulder, Kitty saw the strap-on that matched her own, its thick contours spreading Betsy’s tight buttocks with each thrust. And below, on the insides of her thighs, glistened more than one trickle of liquid arousal as her asshole was ravished.

Kitty didn’t stop and didn’t let Laura to stop. She kept fucking the two of them until their ecstasy peaked so high that she had to join them. 

“Ohh, shit, fuck—fuck!” Kitty screamed. “Take it, Laura! Just a little more!”

Through it all she felt the heat of Laura’s naked body, rolling and breaking with surges of pleasure against her own skin. It never stopped and it never seemed to lessen. Maybe Kitty was getting more and more sensitive to it.

The pleasure of the strap-on’s grind against Kitty’s cunt mounted with sweet agony. She reached down to grope Laura’s naked thigh, feeling the tight clench of her sex, then thrusting her finger into it in ownership. Even Laura had to groan as the finger plunged deep into her pussy. Her cunt sucked at Kitty’s finger, clenching all around it, like it was trying to pull Kitty deeper into the searing heat inside her. 

Then Laura’s pussy swelled and her clit exploded with wild, intense satiation. Kitty and Betsy soon joined her, one after the other. The room filled with their grunts, their moans, their pleasure. The daisy chain of reaction and sensation grew, coming faster and faster, as they rocked and fucked together as one.

When dawn broke through the windows, it brought Betsy back to herself, away from the desperate desire to please—she’d fallen asleep still hoping that Kitty found her naked body delightful. Kitty laid against the headboard, asleep but as if meditating, breathing peacefully with smiling lips.

Laura was also asleep, her head on Kitty’s lap. Her limbs were so perfectly arranged she could’ve been being laid to rest: her legs together, her elbows pressed to her sides, fingers laced over her belly. It made her look formidable, even lying flat on her back. The twin mounds of her firm breasts rose high, moving with a modicum of life as Laura did her breathing.

Betsy heaved herself painfully to the side of the bed and managed to get her footing. Her mind was fogged—first by the passion that had come and gone, then from the deep sleep she’d fallen into, and finally from the withdrawal of Kitty’s will, her interest, her pleasure or dissatisfaction. Betsy felt different—she breathed different, she saw different—not having Kitty as her mistress at the moment.

“You’re awake?” Kitty asked.

Betsy’s eyes went drunkenly to where Kitty laid, her own eyes now open. Betsy tried desperately to focus on her. For a moment, Kitty seemed unreal.

“You need to wash up. You sweated a lot last night. I don’t think you’re used to being fucked that hard.” Without even wiggling her nose, Kitty phased through the mattress and Laura’s head, removing herself from the bed. 

Laura barely noticed, snuggling into the pillow Kitty had vacated. 

Kitty escorted Betsy to the bathroom, even turning on the shower for her. The added mothering brought back a little, fractured version of the submission Betsy had felt last night. Betsy nursed it as she went through the shower, deciding that she liked it, but she also liked the idea of keeping a clear head about it. She couldn’t be Kitty’s sex slave as Laura was. If Kitty was going to dominate her, it would just be in bed, not in her life.

Betsy came out of the shower and was shocked by Kitty standing there, still naked, something imposing about her slight, slender body—the reminder that for all her sparse frame, she had still mastered Betsy. She held a riding crop at her side.

“Come here,” Kitty told her.

Betsy approached Kitty, water glistening on her skin. Naturally, she was totally unabashed of her nudity. Her body left nothing to be ashamed of. But she was also aware that there wasn’t a towel to be seen.

Kitty held out a collar. It might’ve been any old choker, except that it had a tag dangling from the front. One side read ‘Psylocke’ while the other read ‘Property of Kitty Pryde’. 

“Put it on,” Kitty said.

Betsy smirked. “You must be joking.”

“I know what you’re thinking. You think this can just be something that happens when you want to come as hard as you did last night. And that’s fine with me; I can’t dom you morning, noon, and night. But you are going to remember what you are. Long after my little love bites have faded.”

“And if I refuse?”

Kitty slapped the crop into her hand. “Bend over.”

“Now I know you’re joking.”

“You literally just questioned me, Betsy. You don’t question me.”

“What if I refuse?”

“If you refuse, then Laura and I rescind your invitation to our bedroom. That’s two strokes I owe you now. One more word and it’s three.”

Betsy’s mind racing, quickly considering the proposition. It didn’t take her long to decide. A little dignity in exchange for the ecstasy she’d shared in last night. 

Betsy bent over like she was giving a Japanese bow, sticking her ass out for whatever play Kitty wanted with it. Then she held still, breathing evenly as Kitty walked around her to appraise all of her flawless body.

“You look incredible, Betsy.” Kitty ran her hand under Betsy’s body, feeling her ample breasts, squeezing her nipples with only an iota less than tenderness. “Of course, you knew that. I just wanted you to know I’m not blind. I can see it too. I know just how… astounding you are. It’s a shame to mark such a perfect body. But it’d be an even bigger shame to let you be a disobedient whore when you look so nice.”

Kitty whipped her ass and Betsy cried out, more in surprise than pain. That came later, a bitter aftertaste as Kitty stroked the crop’s end across the painful welt on Betsy’s ass. “One down,” Kitty said quietly. “Two more to go.”

“It’s only one more!” Betsy cried, but her pussy ran with arousal. 

Kitty reached the crop underneath her to touch the flowing lust—Betsy shuddered with the horrible lust rising inside her.

“I said it would be three if you said one more word.” Kitty smiled wickedly. “You just did.”

Her voice was so soft and gentle, and the riding crop rubbed against Betsy’s slit with such skill, that Betsy felt herself positively being coaxed into orgasm, like a horse could be made to enjoy being saddled.

“You’re a whore, you know that?” Kitty whispered. “It’s dripping right off my riding crop.”

Tears fell from Betsy’s eyes, her body shaking helplessly. “If you say so,” she said, not sure if it was passive-aggressive or just submissive.

“If I say so?” Kitty asked. “I’m proving it to you, aren’t I? I’m making you see what your cunt does when you get to be my bitch.”

Something about the way Kitty said it sent Betsy into shivers she couldn’t control. She choked and squeezed her legs together tight. The heat of the shower had faded and her wet flesh was getting cold, bringing the heat of her cunt into sharp relief.

“Put your hand here,” Kitty said softly, tapping the riding crop against Betsy’s clit to make her point.

Betsy could barely breathed. She brought one hand to her pussy, approaching the riding crop that covered it like she was about to touch a venomous snake. Kitty took the riding crop away and Betsy’s hand leapt to her slit, rubbing it needfully.

“Open your legs more,” Kitty ordered.

Naked and bent over, Betsy parted her legs until they were in a vee, widening the opening of her pussy. Kitty laid the riding crop very softly against her ass, pressing it inward to dimple the buoyant flesh. 

“Tell me how you feel.”

Betsy didn’t understand, even resented the power Kitty had over her, but her pussy was melting, its tenderness calling out to her stroking hand. Her masturbation sent surges of pleasure springing through her, leaving her legs trembling.

“I feel good,” Betsy gasped.

“You’re going to feel a lot better,” Kitty said. “You’re going to come for me.”

The riding crop tapped her ass, the casual ownership in the touch somehow stroking the fires Betsy felt in fingering herself. They raged hotter and hotter, even though there was no pain.

“I’ll come for you,” Betsy repeated helplessly, her cunt throbbing as she touched it. Yet she barely even felt it, all her senses concentrated on the feel of the riding crop against her ass. 

She thought endlessly of the pain it could give and the lust erupted in her, anticipation eclipsing the pleasure of her own caresses. Betsy gritted her teeth, hating the depravity of it all, but she knew the kind of orgasm it would give her…

“I’m going to whip you while you come,” Kitty added, running the riding crop along the curve of Betsy’s ass. “You’ll scream for me. It’ll hurt, being my bitch, but you’ll still love it.”

Betsy shook with need. Her fingers grew wet on her pussy. She couldn’t help herself. She felt the riding crop caressing her ass and knew the agony it could give her. She was filled with a horrible desire for it.

“I’m going to touch myself while I whip you,” Kitty said, her voice tightly controlled with quiet, steely menace. “Won’t that be something? The sight of you getting me off? I know you want that, baby. You like it when I’m just as sick and twisted as you are. It helps you come, I know it does.”

Betsy’s body quivered with helpless rage, a seething orgasm taking up more and more of her senses. She looked between her legs and saw Kitty touching herself just like she’d said, rubbing harder and faster as she held the riding crop against Betsy’s ass, waiting for the moment when Betsy gave in.

“And if you’re one hell of a good slut,” Kitty said, the cane running between Betsy’s asscheeks, pressing down harder as she readied to use it, “and you tell me when you’re coming and beg to get whipped—you’ll get a special treat. An ass like that deserves a special treat.”

She tapped the riding crop on Betsy’s ass again, the tiny touches sending Betsy’s surging lust into another level of throbbing arousal. Betsy trembled with shame, desire, anger. How could she want something so much and hate it? Kitty would know damn well when Betsy climaxed, she just wanted the experience coated with humiliation for Betsy.

The riding crop flicked gently, almost mockingly at her ass. The strokes were just a twist of Kitty’s wrist, stinging Betsy’s flesh, yet paradoxically driving her wild between the need for more and her own shame at her cravings. Betsy’s ass burned, her fingers moistened as they drank at her pussy. She was riven with frantic, rising desire, spinning out of control, her mind giving itself over more and more to passion over embarrassment. 

She saw Kitty’s hand at her sex, fingers curling inside herself, joining Betsy in debauchery. Then a surging orgasm overwhelmed Betsy, sweeping her along past her inhibitions, driving her far beyond the point where she could stop herself.

With a guttural cry, pure passion, Betsy opened her legs even wider. She thrust her ass back, fingering herself with the fingers of one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. She swayed brazenly, bowing herself lower, pushing her ass up in the air to be her dominant feature.

“I’m coming!” she shrieked. “Whip me while I come for you! Whip me like you promised!”

The riding crop lashed across her buttocks and they exploded with pain. Betsy screamed, and as if to match that venting cry, her pussy surged into another raging climax. The riding crop crashed into her again, driving her orgasm to new heights. Betsy fell to the floor. She propped herself up on her shoulder, keeping her legs wide, ramming her fingers into her pussy as she thrust her ass up for Kitty’s whipping.

“Aahh, God!” she keened. “Whip me, you bitch, whip me!”

The riding crop streaked red lines across her buttocks. Betsy gurgled and screamed as they flared on her perfect skin, seeming to burn into her. She was helpless in the grip of her need, jerking and heaving as each stroke of the riding crop made her ecstasy more and more perfect. One more lashing and she screamed, completely depraved, coming again. Her climax was higher, tighter, hotter than before, her cunt totally Kitty’s while her body was utterly out of control.

“Good little whore!” Kitty cooed, her voice mockingly cool while Betsy’s body raged and screamed. “That’s it, beg for it, beg me you slut!”

She whipped Betsy, giving the punishment Betsy deserved for enjoying this insanity so much. Each stroke of the riding crop shook some of her juices off her flowing cunt, dappling it onto the floor and down her legs. But there was always more.

Betsy cried out, her ass shaking with an agony that would’ve been unbearable if she didn’t need so much more. “Please whip me, pleeease!”

But Kitty held the riding crop still instead, leaving Betsy clinging to the floor. Her ass still weaved in the air, seeking the lashes that were no longer coming. The number of orgasms she’d had didn’t satisfy her; she wanted more with even greater vigor than she’d wanted before the first climax, after it, after the second. The more she got, the more she wanted.

Realizing that, Betsy sobbed. She couldn’t accept how fully she wanted to be degraded. She couldn’t believe that Kitty would make her beg for this if she wanted satisfaction. The idea was too horrible to contemplate. She moaned and cried on the floor, her hand locked to her sex.

Kitty stood, still rubbing her pussy, eyes glassy. “Get up and clean my cunt.”

Betsy crawled to her on all fours, her body quivering, wanting, riddled with pain. She got up on her knees and licked at the juicy wetness that soaked Kitty’s groin and dripped from her fingers. She could feel her own cream running out of her pussy and trickling between her buttocks as she licked. As if in a dream, she took Kitty’s hand and licked it clean, then took each finger and sucked it, swallowing every trace of Kitty’s sex. Kitty’s cunt wasn’t any more satisfied than hers was; under her caressing tongue, she felt it pulsating with fresh need.