The Very Rude Boys Next Door by Chloe Kent

Chapter Four

 

After having successfully escaped the barbecue without having to see the three men, who always seemed to be at the back of her mind, Anastasia took to cleaning the rest of the house.

It also helped to prevent her going crazy while she waited for her Aunt Viktoria to call her if she was going to call her at all tonight. They had decided to keep their contact to a minimum.

She would never have guessed, but she found cleaning therapeutic, and it kept her mind off the horror that was now her life.

By the time she was finished, the sun had already set, and evening was inching past her.

She took a long bubble bath only because she had scrubbed the tub to within an inch of its life, and it had gleamed so prettily.

She dozed off for a few moments, then forced herself to leave the scented bubbles. With nothing else to do, she decided she would open the basket Edgar and Janine had brought her, make herself a mug of tea with extra sugar, and read one of her books which she’d brought with her while she waited, in case her aunt called.

It was too hot for anything else, and she was going to be asleep soon anyway, so she put on a pair of panties and a tank top, tied her hair in a messy bun, then slipped into a short thin kimono and headed toward the kitchen.

She then almost died from utter shock when she found the three men from next door in her house. And this time she didn’t have any weapons nearby.

She hastily grabbed the ends of her kimono together and fastened the ribbon around it.

God help her, but did they have to look so magnificently entrancing? Why did the fact that they were unfairly gorgeous punctuate every thought she had in her head?

They rose from the seats they had taken in the lounge, like kings from their thrones. She swallowed and took a step back.

She would be lying if she hadn’t kept looking at the clock on the wall, at the time on her phone. She had, and every instant that she noted the time, her tummy would tug in a million different directions all at once. Her body would then heat up, and her pussy, the area in her life she seemed to be paying less and less attention to, because she was so continuously stressed out, became tight and wet.

She didn’t know what she expected and had believed they'd made an empty, drunken threat they weren’t going to pull off.

But now they were here.

And she wasn’t prepared in any way, for any of them. Nor did it escape her attention that they had brought items with them too. A roll of rope and a brown paper bag now graced the chipped coffee table.

“You were supposed to have come to our house with your earnest apology, ready to spill from your lovely mouth, ten minutes ago.”

“But we are willing to give you a second chance to do so now.”

“No,” she said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. Was she just never going to be fully dressed in their company at all times? “I had already apologized, and that’s all you’re getting. I made a mistake. It was dark. I was tired.”

“Is that really going to be your final answer?”

She raised her chin. “Yes. You’re wasting your time. Now please leave, or I’m going to start screaming.”

They chuckled, stroked their jaws, looked at her with amusement but with also a dark, ominous haze to their eyes that stoked the heat inside her. She didn’t understand why it was so important, and why she didn’t just save herself all the hassle and apologize. Even if she didn’t mean it, she could pretend she did. That would remove them from her house.

“Okay. Fine. I am sorry about what happened, but it was an error. Like I said, I was tired, and you could have tried harder to make me see my mistake in the first place.”

“And you call that your most sincere apology?”

She didn’t answer immediately; instinctively she knew her answer was going to send this whole thing into a completely different direction for her. Yet…

“Yes,” she eventually said.

“Then we really need to teach you what it feels like to be sorry.”

She didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly she was divested of her kimono, tossed over a shoulder, carried to a chair, and forced to bend over the rather high backrest of the piece of antique furniture, no matter how much she tried to fight against it.

As for the chair, it had been so heavy she couldn’t move it from the odd place it had been left, basically in the middle of nowhere in the living room.

With three strong men arranging her the way they wanted, and an immovable chair that served as the foundation to keep her trapped, Anastasia had fought with all her might and screamed until her throat hurt.

“Now all that screaming is just going to bring someone to your door. Are you sure you want anyone to see you this way? Because trust us when we say they’ll believe us and agree you need to be taught a lesson in humility.”

That certainly had her dropping her voice. She would rather die than have another human being see her this way.

Her wrists were soon bound to the legs of the chair with the rope they had brought. Her ankles were tied to the legs of the chair, forcing her to part her thighs.

She had never in all her life, been put in such a humiliating position and the entirety of the situation brewed something dark inside herself that she couldn’t name.

“Now. Before we begin. I think we should introduce ourselves. I’m Callum Smith. This is my brother, Ben and this is Kane.” She strained her head to look up and her brain caught fire as she took in the names that belonged to the faces before her. “And you go by the name of Anna, we believe.”

“You untie me this second. This is wrong. You can’t do this to me.”

“But we can since we gave you three chances to apologize like you meant it. The first time when you realized you made a mistake. The second time when you were supposed to come to our house twelve hours later and we even gave you a chance after you missed that one. Three strikes, sweetheart,” Ben said softly.

Of the three of them she already figured Callum was the sternest of them. Ben needed to state the facts before he acted and Kane, the youngest of the brothers found her a great source of entertainment if his gaze on her was anything to go by.

“I demand you release me immediately. You…” She slipped into Russian, giving them a solid piece of her mind, completely uncensored and it was only belatedly that she realized she hadn’t spoken English.

But just as she was about to translate herself because they needed to know what she thought of them in a language they understood, Callum, and she knew it was him instinctively, laid his palm on her ass with such stern force he triggered a cyclone of stinging heat in her flesh that spread to every part of her body. He did it again and again. Then his brothers did the same.

Ben seemed to caress the flesh on her ass first, feeling around for a spot that wasn’t as hot as fire and planted his strikes there in breathless succession before Kane took his turn and created a whirlpool of chaos inside her. She didn’t know where his hand was going to land next.

They worked so fast, so in sync with each other, she couldn’t breathe and make demands they leave her alone at the same time. All she could do was suffocate in the enormity of her fury.

She couldn’t believe they were actually spanking her. As if they were born with the right to do so. She had never been more humiliated in all her life. It was bad enough they had bound her to a chair, peppered her panty-covered ass with bee-sting clouts, but what she would never be able to live down, understand or accept was the degree to which they affected her.

And with that her fury quadrupled.

She cursed and shouted and wriggled and writhed. She repeated oaths when she ran out of new ones and all the while her backside grew hotter and hotter and her shame deeper and deeper.

“That’s for putting a hole in our floor.” Whack.

“That’s for putting a hole in our wall.” Bang.

“That’s for refusing to listen to us while we repeatedly told you, you had the wrong house.” Pop.

“And this is for eating all my éclairs,” Kane said, and she yelped in undisguised pain when he dropped to his haunches, pulled her panties to the side, and took a bite of her ass. He bit her. He truly bit into a piece of her ass for eating all his éclairs.

“Ready to say you’re sorry now, sweetheart?”

“You three are insane. You should be—you should be… Release me right this instant.”

“She’s not even trying, is she?” Kane said, sounding bemused as he delivered another sounding slap to her ass cheek that had her reeling.

“At this point we’ll even accept a thank you for the spanking because you’ve learned your lesson,” Ben said, punctuating her ass with a sizzling new handprint.

“Go to hell,” she hissed, hating that she was crying and unable to stop her tears. But then she became aware of something else entirely.

“Perhaps we need to implement another level of punishment?”

“Rot in hell,” she rasped as Ben came into her view. He opened the brown paper bag they had brought with them and extracted a colorful box from inside.

Her curiosity won out and she forgot to continue with her list of insults.

From the box Ben had now opened, he lined up a series of strange looking things. Bulb-like domes with a flared-out bottom, seven of them, which he arranged from the biggest to the smallest on the coffee table in front of her.

Something pinged in her head. Those were butt plugs.

Butt plugs.

“No. Are you deranged?” She shrieked, yanking at the rope with renewed vigor.

“Well, that eliminates this little guy over here,” Ben said and removed the smallest of the seven from the line-up.

“I’m not playing this horrendous game with you three. You—”

Ben removed a second one from the ascending in size butt plugs.

“What?” she cried terribly afraid now. “Are you all psychopaths?” she screamed so loud stars floated in front of her. She spent an inordinate amount of time telling them what they couldn’t do only to have them continuing doing it with much more enthusiasm.

And that had cost her another butt plug.

What was she doing? She should be apologizing. Or Ben would just continue removing another butt plug every time and the last of the selection made her whole body scream in terror. But were they really going to use that on her? If they were just trying to scare her, she really shouldn’t fall for it.

Until fingers from two different sets of hands, slipped into the band of her panties and dragged them over her ass.

She squealed in indignation, writhing her whole body trying to escape them and unless she was a magician, she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

Suddenly, everything, her humiliation, her anger, her disbelief was tossed into a cauldron together leaving her with only one profound sensation.

Arousal.

Arousal like she didn’t know was possible to experience. Her nipples threatened to puncture the sturdy cotton of her tank top. She became obscenely aware of the wetness soaking the fabric of her panties.

And they would know.

Oh God help her.

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Now let me go. I apologized.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound sincere enough. Agreed?” Callum said while both him and Kane continued to drag her panties over her scorching ass cheeks. They did it with such deliberate slowness it drove her right over the edge of what was left of her dignity.

Obviously, Callum hadn’t been talking to her because his brothers agreed she didn’t sound sincere enough and suddenly the air had taken on a different kind of feel.

Ben removed another butt plug from the selection, then picked up the one next in line. Callum and Kane had now peeled her panties down to her knees.

She could actually feel the extra wetness drip to her inner thighs which had been exacerbated whenever the heat of their punishing hands struck too close to the folds of her pussy.

There was no going back now. They would know she was wet. And she needed to have herself examined.

They picked up the tempo of their smacks against her bare flesh and it seemed colossally hotter and with more sting attached now that she didn’t have her underwear to protect her.

But she knew the thin cotton could hardly have shielded her at all. No, it was the intimacy that magnified every sensation. They were touching her bare flesh with their hands.

She whimpered in shame and horror as she swayed into them, instead of pulling away, just so she could feel even just the edges of their palms brush the soaked lips of her center which weakened her to dangerous levels.

But she stopped breathing altogether when Ben and Kane finally touched her there. They separated her slippery folds and then Callum with a hand on her lower back, twirled the narrower end of the butt plug into the pool of her wetness.

Her clit clamored for attention while her mind wanted her to sink into oblivion when she pressed against the head of the butt plug not nearly deep enough inside her.

She couldn’t remember her words and nothing, but staggering gasps, moans and shameless purrs escaped her mouth.

They fell into a wickedly hot routine. Callum wetting the tip of the butt plug with her arousal than painting it over her asshole. And every time he did that, he pushed a little of the end inside her.

Too late she remembered that had been their intention. They were going to put it inside her. Into her bottom hole. The one never meant to be touched by anyone else, not even her.

“No, please,” she said frantically, softly, sucking in her breath when Ben and Kane took to almost absently stroking their thumbs against her folds. It was only then she admitted to herself what they were going do to her. They were going to put the plug into her asshole, and they weren’t going to back off, not now. They weren’t trying to just scare her.

She could barely have taken the smallest one of the collection and her stupidity had her butthole now facing an even bigger one.

And then when they were satisfied, Ben and Kane switched over to her ass. Spreading her flesh apart until Callum had a clear view of her asshole.

Embarrassment soaked her skin, leaving her more flushed than ever.

She cried in genuine pain when Callum pushed the plug into her. The burn and stretch shocked her. Her body wasn’t meant for this. She was going to be ripped apart.

She clenched up, pulling every cell, every nerve in her body so taut, she dare not even breathe.

“Open up, Anna,” Callum said, and even though her world seemed to be spiraling out of control, the husk in his voice coated her with new heat.

She shook her head as frantically as she could, her hands fisted so tight, the blood had drained from her knuckles.

“So be it,” he said softly. With the plug about half-way inside her, Callum, Ben and Kane started to stroke her pussy with soft maddening brushes that covered her folds and just at the entrance of her drenched center.

“No. No,” she cried but still she moved closer, trying to get them to touch her clit which they seem to be deliberately avoiding until… they didn’t. Three taps with the pads of their fingers and the bundle in which she had kept her nerves threatened to burst free.

“Oh God. Please,” she now begged. “Please, please, please.” The insanity that overwhelmed her now became torture and only they could apply the salve that would release her if they just kept touching her. Every part of her felt swollen and achy and she had just begged them to make her come.

When they touched her again, pinching, pulling, and polishing her clit, nothing could have stopped her from imploding with an orgasm so powerful it obliterated her senses with shock and awe. And at the moment where she was spasming and quivering, her asshole clenching and unclenching around the head of the butt plug inside her, Callum pushed it in deeper, all the way in so the base flowered out against her ass cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, and it was nothing but the severity of the burning sensation that started in her too stretched ass and ended over all her body that prompted her to apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I refused to listen to you. I’m sorry for shooting. I’m sorry for eating all your éclairs. I’m so… so sorry,” she sobbed, and it astonished her to know she meant every word of her apology.

They pulled up her panties and untied her then. And they cradled her as she cried. She could understand nothing about her reaction, just that she was sorry and somehow crying seemed to be cathartic for her.

The thought of her life and the utter misery attached to its state made her cry some more. And they hugged her until she had cried it all out before Ben carried her to her bedroom, tucked her into bed then left. She was asleep in moments, hiccupping every now and again from all the tears she had shed.