The temptations of Horus part nine
tually reached their limit and came silmutaneously, Lucy onto Horus’s cock, and Majesty into his mouth. He swallowed the latter’s juices, and seconds later, Horus filled the former’s womb with his warm seminal fluid. Lucy yelled and threw back her head as her friend Majesty had done.
Majesty pulled herself off Horus’s face and both she and Lucy got off the bed, their legs wobbly from their intense orgasms. They held hands and strutted towards the bathroom, their bodies gleaming with sweat and sex.
“Come on, naughty boy,” Lucy said, her voice still thick with desire. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
The trio made their way to the shower, and Lucy cranked the water up to a comfortably hot temperature. Steam began to fill the room, wrapping around them like a warm embrace. The water felt like heaven on his skin, washing away the stickiness of their passionate escapade.
Majesty took the lead, her eyes smoldering with a hunger that hadn't been sated. She turned to Lucy and said, "You know what to do." Lucy nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
The two women positioned Horus under the showerhead, the water cascading down on him like a waterfall. This time Lucy straddled his face, her pussy squeezing and releasing his nose and mouth as they rode him. Majesty impaled herself on his cock, enthusiastically taking her turn to fuck him.
The warmth of the water washed away the sweat and cum that clung to them like a second skin, along with the scent of their sex sessioms. The steam created a cocoon around them, a sensual sanctuary where time seemed to stand still. Their moans echoed off the tiles, a symphony of pleasure that filled the room. It wasn’t long before both women had their second orgasm, and their man had his fourth one, the water washing away the newly produced sweat, semen, and female ejaculation.
Majesty and Lucy turned off the shower, the steam dissipating slowly, revealing their glowing skin. They stepped out, and the cold air of the bathroom made Horus's skin pebble with goosebumps. With gentle yet firm hands, they guided him to two plush white towels and began to dry him off. Their touch was slow and deliberate, each stroke a silent declaration of ownership and affection.
Majesty took the time to towel off his shoulders and back, her eyes lingering on the welts that still stood out against his skin. Lucy focused on his legs and feet, her touch feather-light, as if she were afraid to break the spell that had been woven between them. As they worked, they whispered sweet nothings to him, their voices a blend of seduction and friendship.
When they reached his butt, Lucy couldn't resist. She playfully bit into the flesh of one cheek, her teeth sinking into the tender skin just enough to make him jump. Horus yelped and jolted forward, his eyes wide with surprise and arousal. Without missing a beat, Majesty took the opportunity to bite the other cheek, her teeth sinking in just enough to leave a gentle mark.
The room echoed with their laughter, the sound bouncing off the marble tiles and chrome fixtures. Horus couldn't help but grin, his cheeks flushing with the thrill of their playfulness. He knew that they had pushed him to his limits and beyond, but the joy in their eyes as they watched him squirm was infectious.
They helped him into his clothes, their hands lingering over his chest and abdomen, tracing the lines of muscles that had been revealed during their session. Each touch was a promise of future meetings, a reminder that this was just the beginning of their journey together.
As they dressed him, they couldn't help but admire his body, the way his muscles moved beneath his skin like a living sculpture. They took their time, each article of clothing a silent declaration of their shared secret. When he was fully dressed, they stepped back, their eyes devouring him like a pair of hungry tigers.
"Goodbye, darling," Lucy murmured, leaning in to kiss him softly on the cheek. Her hand lingered for a moment on his butt, her nails digging in just enough to make him jump.
Majesty chuckled, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Don't worry," she said, her voice low and sultry, "We'll save that for next time."
Horus felt his face flush, the warmth spreading from his cheeks to his ears. He knew that they had only just begun to explore the depths of his desires, and the thought had him both thrilled and slightly terrified.
They walked him to the door, their hands on his arms, guiding him like a pair of proud parents sending their son off to college. As he stepped into the hallway, he couldn't resist the urge to glance back over his shoulder, his eyes meeting theirs.
"See you soon," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh, you will," Majesty promised, her smile wicked. "Count on it."
Knowing that they might do a sneak attack on his butt, while his back was turned, Horus turned around to face them fully, then walked backward down the hall, not taking his eyes off for two until they were out of sight when he turned the corner, he was at the elevator. He still didn’t turn around. They grinned him the whole time. He still didn’t turn around when he reached the elevator until it was open, and he was worried that they might come running toward him and try to spank or kick his butt one last time.
As the doors closed and the elevator descended, Horus let out a deep sigh of relief. His entire body felt alive, every nerve ending singing with the aftermath of their attentions. The sizzling pain of the spanking had transformed into a warm, tender throb that was almost as pleasant as the sensation of their tongues and the pressure of their bodies. The anticipation of what the next week would hold filled him with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
The next week passed in a blur of pleasure and pain. The aloe vera gel brought sweet relief to his sore flesh, the coolness a stark contrast to the fiery passion that had been inflicted upon him. Yet, every time Lucy and Majesty touched him, whether it was to soothe his bruised skin or to lube their pink dildo for another round of ass play, his body responded with an eagerness that surprised him. He found himself craving the bite of their nails on his butt, the smothering warmth of their breasts and butts, and the sweet surrender of his mouth to their demanding pussies.
On the eighth day, Horus approached Majesty's apartment with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The memory of their last encounter was still fresh in his mind, and he knew that the evening ahead would push him even further into the realms of his deepest, most secret desires.
When he stepped into the living room, his eyes widened at the sight of the spanking bench. The black leather gleamed in the soft light, the brown belts laid out like a promise of what was to come. His heart raced at the thought of being secured to that bench, unable to move as they took turns administering their brand of discipline. Lucy's sadistic smile and Majesty's knowing gaze told him that they had something special in store for him tonight.
Majesty approached him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's time," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "We've been preparing for this all week."
"Prepared?" Horus asked, his voice shaky as he took in the sight of the spanking bench and the array of leather belts.
"Oh, you have no idea," Lucy said with a wink, her tone dripping with sadistic glee. She strutted over to him, her green overalls hugging her curves like a second skin. "We've been waiting for this moment all week, and now it's time to see how much you've learned."
Majesty, dressed in her jungle camo uniform, gestured to the bench with a flourish. "You know the routine," she said, her voice firm yet playful. "Bend over and let us prepare you."
Horus complied, his heart racing as he bent over the bench, his arms and legs spread wide.
Majesty began with his ankles, her Geta sandals clacking against the floor as she moved with the confidence of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. Each strap was fastened tightly, yet not so much that it would cut off circulation. Her hands were surprisingly gentle, despite the firmness of her grip. Horus felt the cool leather encircle his flesh, the restraints a silent reminder of his vulnerability.
As she moved to his calves, Lucy stepped in, her own sandals making a softer sound as she approached. Her eyes were dark with excitement, and Horus couldn't help but feel a thrill of fear mixed with his arousal. She took over the task of securing him, her grip firm as she tightened the straps, her fingers lingering just a bit longer than necessary. He could feel the heat of her body as she worked, her breath warm against his skin.
Once his legs were secured, Majesty moved up to his thighs, her movements methodical and precise. Each strap was placed with care, ensuring that he was bound but not in pain. The feeling of being trapped, yet not in danger, was a heady one. It was as if he was in the jaws of a giant, powerful beast, yet somehow knew that he was safe.
Then Lucy took the reins, securing his waist and chest to the bench. Her hands moved over his back with a possessive hunger that sent shivers down his spine. Her touch was gentle yet firm, and Horus felt himself melting into the leather, his body a willing participant in this dance of pain and pleasure.
Finally, they reached his wrists. The last vestiges of his freedom disappeared as Lucy secured them to the bench, her eyes never leaving his. The room grew quiet, the only sound the rustle of their movements as they stepped back to admire their handiwork.
"Don't go anywhere," Majesty said with a wink, her sarcasm thick in the air. She and Lucy turned and disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of their laughter floating back to him.
Horus took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. The anticipation was almost unbearable, his mind racing with what they might have planned. He heard the clatter of dishes, the clink of silverware, and the occasional murmur of their voices. His imagination ran wild, conjuring up images of the implements they might be selecting.
When they finally returned, Lucy was holding a wooden spoon, the kind used for stirring thick stews and soups. It looked innocuous, yet Horus knew from experience that in her hands, it could be a weapon of exquisite torment. And in Majesty's grasp was something new: a cutting board, the kind used in cooking, but this one was 12 inches long, including the handle. The sight of it sent a shiver of both fear and excitement through his body.
They approached him like predators stalking their prey, their movements graceful yet predatory. He felt like a gazelle caught in the sights of a pair of lions, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
Majesty stepped closer, the cutting board in her hand a silent promise of what was to come. She tapped it against the palm of her hand, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. Horus braced himself, his body taut as a bowstring.
And then it happened. The first blow from the cutting board hit his bare ass with a thunderous smack that reverberated through his entire body. It was like nothing Horus had ever felt before, a force that seemed to shake him to his very core. He let out a guttural groan, his eyes squeezing shut as the pain exploded in a white-hot flash.
Majesty stepped back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she admired the red cutting board-print that blossomed on Horus's ass. Lucy took her place, the wooden spoon held aloft like a warrior's weapon. She grinned, her teeth gleaming in the soft light. "My turn," she chirped, her tone gleeful.
With a swiftness that belied her size, Lucy brought the spoon down on his flesh four times in rapid succession. The blows were sharp, stinging, a stark contrast to the thudding power of the cutting board. Horus's body jerked with each strike, his cries a mix of pain and pleasure. The room was a cacophony of smacking sounds, his grunts, and the soft chuckles of the two women as they worked in tandem.
Majesty took over again, her arm rising like a whale’s tail, and with a powerful swing, brought the cutting board down on his tender flesh with a heavy thwack. Horus felt his ass swelling, the pain a living entity that grew with each impact. Yet, amidst the agony, there was something... liberating. It was as if with each blow, he was shedding his inhibitions, his fears, his very essence. He was being reborn in the crucible of pain and pleasure, molded by the hands of his new mistresses.
They switched again, Lucy's spoon striking in a merciless rhythm, leaving a pattern of red welts across his cheeks. Each time she hit him, he could feel the sting radiating outwards, a burst of pain that grew into a warm glow. It was a dance, a ritual, a symphony of sensation that played out across the canvas of his body. The air was charged with energy, the very walls seeming to pulse with the beat of their passion.
The two women stepped back, panting slightly from their exertions. Horus lay there, bound and trembling, his ass on fire, his cock rock-hard inside the hole of the leather bench. They circled him, their eyes raking over his body like twin flames, their smiles predatory.
Majesty leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "How do you feel?" she asked, her voice a sultry whisper.
Horus swallowed hard, his voice thick with need. "A... alive," he managed to croak out.
Lucy's eyes gleamed. "Good," she said, her tone dark with promise. "Because we're just getting started."
Majesty took up the cutting board again, her arm cocked back like a whip. She brought it down with a powerful swing, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. Horus's body bucked as the pain flared, the force of the blow pushing him against the bench. The leather was slick with sweat and lubricant now, and he slid slightly with each hit, the friction adding to his torment.
Lucy waited for the perfect moment, watching the rise and fall of his ass as it tried to escape the onslaught. With a giggle, she stepped in, bringing the spoon down in a flurry of four sharp strikes, each one placed strategically to intersect with the previous set. The sound was like a miniature fireworks display, a symphony of snaps and smacks that painted a picture of pain on his flesh.
They continued in this manner for what felt like an eternity, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. The heavy thud of the cutting board was punctuated by the rapid-fire strikes of the spoon, a rhythm that was as mesmerizing as it was agonizing. Horus could feel himself slipping into a haze, his body moving to the beat of their punishment. It wasn’t long before Horus begin to cry and scream with abandon, no longer able to suppress his expressions of pain.
Their laughter grew louder, each of them clearly enjoying the power dynamic they had established. Horus’s tears slid down his cheeks, dropping onto the leather bench, leaving wet trails on his skin.
"Does it hurt baby?" Lucy quipped in a high-pitched, mocking tone, her eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement as she watched him squirm.
Majesty's response was a throaty chuckle. "Oh, I think it does," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "This is so much fun, watching you wiggle and cry like a newborn babe."
Their laughter filled the room, a symphony of sadistic pleasure that only served to heighten his own pain and humiliation. Horus felt his manhood shrink slightly at the thought of being treated like a helpless child, but the feeling was quickly overridden by the relentless assault on his ass.
He knew that begging for mercy would only add to their enjoyment, so he stuck to unashamedly blubbering and bawling, his body writhing and bucking against the unforgiving leather. The sting of the spoon and the thud of the cutting board grew more intense with each passing moment, his skin feeling as if it was on fire. The scent of leather and the sweat grew stronger, a heady aroma that fueled his own desire despite the agony he was experiencing.
Horus's eyes searched for a way out, his gaze flickering from the straps holding him in place to the smiling faces of Lucy and Majesty. His mind was a tumult of thoughts, each one more desperate than the last. He knew he couldn't escape, that their power over him was absolute. Yet, a part of him yearned to break free, to show them that he wasn't just a plaything for their amusement.
Finally, after 630 seconds, the spanks slowed and then stopped. His body sagged against the bench, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The room was silent, except for the sound of his own panting. He felt their eyes on him, watching him, waiting for his reaction.
"Good boy," Lucy cooed, her voice sticky sweet like honey laced with arsenic. "You took it all so well."
Majesty stepped closer, her hand trailing along the purple, welted flesh of his buttocks. "We're so proud of you," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "But we don't want these marks to ruin the fun, do we?" With that, she turned and sailed out of the room, her sandals clacking against the floor like the ticking of a clock.
Lucy's eyes danced with mischief as she followed, leaving Horus alone with his thoughts and the stinging ache of his punishment. He heard the sounds of a bottle being opened, its liquid being poured over something and into the sink, and their low whispers. A few moments later, they returned, each holding a cotton ball soaked in what was clearly peroxide from the smell.
Majesty approached him, her expression a blend of concern and amusement. "This might sting a little," she said, almost apologetically, as she gently pressed one of the cotton balls against a particularly vibrant welt. Horus hissed through gritted teeth as the cold liquid seeped into his skin, the sting setting his nerves alight.
Lucy followed suit, her eyes glinting with mischief as she applied her cotton ball to another sore spot. The coolness of the peroxide was a sharp contrast to the heat of his skin, and Horus could feel the tension in his body rising. They moved methodically, their giggles a strange counterpoint to his whimpers. Each dab brought a fresh wave of pain that had him squirming and wriggling on the bench, trying to escape the biting sensation.
After 20 seconds, the two women stopped rubbing the now only damp cotton balls on his ass.
Majesty leaned in, her voice a purr. "Now, for the pièce de résistance."
With a wink, she turned and sailed out of the room, Lucy close on her heels. Horus's eyes followed them, his mind racing with possibilities. What new torment could they have in store for him? The anticipation was a living creature, writhing in his gut, feeding on his fear and desire.
Their footsteps retreated, the clack of their sandals on the marble floor fading into the distance. For a moment, there was only the sound of his own ragged breathing, the throb of his cock against the leather, and the sting of his bruised flesh. Then, the sound of The bathroom cabinet opening and another bottle being uncapped.
When they returned, they were holding syringes filled with a clear, viscous liquid. The sight of the needles made Horus's heart stutter. "What's that?" he asked, his voice quavering.
"Just a little something to take the edge off," Lucy said with a grin, her eyes glinting with excitement.
“ It’s acetaminophen,” Majesty specified.
They both approached him, and Horus felt his heart racing as he watched the needles come closer to his skin. The anticipation was unbearable, and he couldn’t help but tense up.
"Hold still," Lucy chided, her voice playful yet firm.
Majesty nodded in agreement. "This will help with the swelling," she said, her voice soothing.
With a deep breath, Horus closed hi
Majesty pulled herself off Horus’s face and both she and Lucy got off the bed, their legs wobbly from their intense orgasms. They held hands and strutted towards the bathroom, their bodies gleaming with sweat and sex.
“Come on, naughty boy,” Lucy said, her voice still thick with desire. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
The trio made their way to the shower, and Lucy cranked the water up to a comfortably hot temperature. Steam began to fill the room, wrapping around them like a warm embrace. The water felt like heaven on his skin, washing away the stickiness of their passionate escapade.
Majesty took the lead, her eyes smoldering with a hunger that hadn't been sated. She turned to Lucy and said, "You know what to do." Lucy nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
The two women positioned Horus under the showerhead, the water cascading down on him like a waterfall. This time Lucy straddled his face, her pussy squeezing and releasing his nose and mouth as they rode him. Majesty impaled herself on his cock, enthusiastically taking her turn to fuck him.
The warmth of the water washed away the sweat and cum that clung to them like a second skin, along with the scent of their sex sessioms. The steam created a cocoon around them, a sensual sanctuary where time seemed to stand still. Their moans echoed off the tiles, a symphony of pleasure that filled the room. It wasn’t long before both women had their second orgasm, and their man had his fourth one, the water washing away the newly produced sweat, semen, and female ejaculation.
Majesty and Lucy turned off the shower, the steam dissipating slowly, revealing their glowing skin. They stepped out, and the cold air of the bathroom made Horus's skin pebble with goosebumps. With gentle yet firm hands, they guided him to two plush white towels and began to dry him off. Their touch was slow and deliberate, each stroke a silent declaration of ownership and affection.
Majesty took the time to towel off his shoulders and back, her eyes lingering on the welts that still stood out against his skin. Lucy focused on his legs and feet, her touch feather-light, as if she were afraid to break the spell that had been woven between them. As they worked, they whispered sweet nothings to him, their voices a blend of seduction and friendship.
When they reached his butt, Lucy couldn't resist. She playfully bit into the flesh of one cheek, her teeth sinking into the tender skin just enough to make him jump. Horus yelped and jolted forward, his eyes wide with surprise and arousal. Without missing a beat, Majesty took the opportunity to bite the other cheek, her teeth sinking in just enough to leave a gentle mark.
The room echoed with their laughter, the sound bouncing off the marble tiles and chrome fixtures. Horus couldn't help but grin, his cheeks flushing with the thrill of their playfulness. He knew that they had pushed him to his limits and beyond, but the joy in their eyes as they watched him squirm was infectious.
They helped him into his clothes, their hands lingering over his chest and abdomen, tracing the lines of muscles that had been revealed during their session. Each touch was a promise of future meetings, a reminder that this was just the beginning of their journey together.
As they dressed him, they couldn't help but admire his body, the way his muscles moved beneath his skin like a living sculpture. They took their time, each article of clothing a silent declaration of their shared secret. When he was fully dressed, they stepped back, their eyes devouring him like a pair of hungry tigers.
"Goodbye, darling," Lucy murmured, leaning in to kiss him softly on the cheek. Her hand lingered for a moment on his butt, her nails digging in just enough to make him jump.
Majesty chuckled, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Don't worry," she said, her voice low and sultry, "We'll save that for next time."
Horus felt his face flush, the warmth spreading from his cheeks to his ears. He knew that they had only just begun to explore the depths of his desires, and the thought had him both thrilled and slightly terrified.
They walked him to the door, their hands on his arms, guiding him like a pair of proud parents sending their son off to college. As he stepped into the hallway, he couldn't resist the urge to glance back over his shoulder, his eyes meeting theirs.
"See you soon," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh, you will," Majesty promised, her smile wicked. "Count on it."
Knowing that they might do a sneak attack on his butt, while his back was turned, Horus turned around to face them fully, then walked backward down the hall, not taking his eyes off for two until they were out of sight when he turned the corner, he was at the elevator. He still didn’t turn around. They grinned him the whole time. He still didn’t turn around when he reached the elevator until it was open, and he was worried that they might come running toward him and try to spank or kick his butt one last time.
As the doors closed and the elevator descended, Horus let out a deep sigh of relief. His entire body felt alive, every nerve ending singing with the aftermath of their attentions. The sizzling pain of the spanking had transformed into a warm, tender throb that was almost as pleasant as the sensation of their tongues and the pressure of their bodies. The anticipation of what the next week would hold filled him with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
The next week passed in a blur of pleasure and pain. The aloe vera gel brought sweet relief to his sore flesh, the coolness a stark contrast to the fiery passion that had been inflicted upon him. Yet, every time Lucy and Majesty touched him, whether it was to soothe his bruised skin or to lube their pink dildo for another round of ass play, his body responded with an eagerness that surprised him. He found himself craving the bite of their nails on his butt, the smothering warmth of their breasts and butts, and the sweet surrender of his mouth to their demanding pussies.
On the eighth day, Horus approached Majesty's apartment with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The memory of their last encounter was still fresh in his mind, and he knew that the evening ahead would push him even further into the realms of his deepest, most secret desires.
When he stepped into the living room, his eyes widened at the sight of the spanking bench. The black leather gleamed in the soft light, the brown belts laid out like a promise of what was to come. His heart raced at the thought of being secured to that bench, unable to move as they took turns administering their brand of discipline. Lucy's sadistic smile and Majesty's knowing gaze told him that they had something special in store for him tonight.
Majesty approached him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's time," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "We've been preparing for this all week."
"Prepared?" Horus asked, his voice shaky as he took in the sight of the spanking bench and the array of leather belts.
"Oh, you have no idea," Lucy said with a wink, her tone dripping with sadistic glee. She strutted over to him, her green overalls hugging her curves like a second skin. "We've been waiting for this moment all week, and now it's time to see how much you've learned."
Majesty, dressed in her jungle camo uniform, gestured to the bench with a flourish. "You know the routine," she said, her voice firm yet playful. "Bend over and let us prepare you."
Horus complied, his heart racing as he bent over the bench, his arms and legs spread wide.
Majesty began with his ankles, her Geta sandals clacking against the floor as she moved with the confidence of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. Each strap was fastened tightly, yet not so much that it would cut off circulation. Her hands were surprisingly gentle, despite the firmness of her grip. Horus felt the cool leather encircle his flesh, the restraints a silent reminder of his vulnerability.
As she moved to his calves, Lucy stepped in, her own sandals making a softer sound as she approached. Her eyes were dark with excitement, and Horus couldn't help but feel a thrill of fear mixed with his arousal. She took over the task of securing him, her grip firm as she tightened the straps, her fingers lingering just a bit longer than necessary. He could feel the heat of her body as she worked, her breath warm against his skin.
Once his legs were secured, Majesty moved up to his thighs, her movements methodical and precise. Each strap was placed with care, ensuring that he was bound but not in pain. The feeling of being trapped, yet not in danger, was a heady one. It was as if he was in the jaws of a giant, powerful beast, yet somehow knew that he was safe.
Then Lucy took the reins, securing his waist and chest to the bench. Her hands moved over his back with a possessive hunger that sent shivers down his spine. Her touch was gentle yet firm, and Horus felt himself melting into the leather, his body a willing participant in this dance of pain and pleasure.
Finally, they reached his wrists. The last vestiges of his freedom disappeared as Lucy secured them to the bench, her eyes never leaving his. The room grew quiet, the only sound the rustle of their movements as they stepped back to admire their handiwork.
"Don't go anywhere," Majesty said with a wink, her sarcasm thick in the air. She and Lucy turned and disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of their laughter floating back to him.
Horus took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. The anticipation was almost unbearable, his mind racing with what they might have planned. He heard the clatter of dishes, the clink of silverware, and the occasional murmur of their voices. His imagination ran wild, conjuring up images of the implements they might be selecting.
When they finally returned, Lucy was holding a wooden spoon, the kind used for stirring thick stews and soups. It looked innocuous, yet Horus knew from experience that in her hands, it could be a weapon of exquisite torment. And in Majesty's grasp was something new: a cutting board, the kind used in cooking, but this one was 12 inches long, including the handle. The sight of it sent a shiver of both fear and excitement through his body.
They approached him like predators stalking their prey, their movements graceful yet predatory. He felt like a gazelle caught in the sights of a pair of lions, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
Majesty stepped closer, the cutting board in her hand a silent promise of what was to come. She tapped it against the palm of her hand, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. Horus braced himself, his body taut as a bowstring.
And then it happened. The first blow from the cutting board hit his bare ass with a thunderous smack that reverberated through his entire body. It was like nothing Horus had ever felt before, a force that seemed to shake him to his very core. He let out a guttural groan, his eyes squeezing shut as the pain exploded in a white-hot flash.
Majesty stepped back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she admired the red cutting board-print that blossomed on Horus's ass. Lucy took her place, the wooden spoon held aloft like a warrior's weapon. She grinned, her teeth gleaming in the soft light. "My turn," she chirped, her tone gleeful.
With a swiftness that belied her size, Lucy brought the spoon down on his flesh four times in rapid succession. The blows were sharp, stinging, a stark contrast to the thudding power of the cutting board. Horus's body jerked with each strike, his cries a mix of pain and pleasure. The room was a cacophony of smacking sounds, his grunts, and the soft chuckles of the two women as they worked in tandem.
Majesty took over again, her arm rising like a whale’s tail, and with a powerful swing, brought the cutting board down on his tender flesh with a heavy thwack. Horus felt his ass swelling, the pain a living entity that grew with each impact. Yet, amidst the agony, there was something... liberating. It was as if with each blow, he was shedding his inhibitions, his fears, his very essence. He was being reborn in the crucible of pain and pleasure, molded by the hands of his new mistresses.
They switched again, Lucy's spoon striking in a merciless rhythm, leaving a pattern of red welts across his cheeks. Each time she hit him, he could feel the sting radiating outwards, a burst of pain that grew into a warm glow. It was a dance, a ritual, a symphony of sensation that played out across the canvas of his body. The air was charged with energy, the very walls seeming to pulse with the beat of their passion.
The two women stepped back, panting slightly from their exertions. Horus lay there, bound and trembling, his ass on fire, his cock rock-hard inside the hole of the leather bench. They circled him, their eyes raking over his body like twin flames, their smiles predatory.
Majesty leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "How do you feel?" she asked, her voice a sultry whisper.
Horus swallowed hard, his voice thick with need. "A... alive," he managed to croak out.
Lucy's eyes gleamed. "Good," she said, her tone dark with promise. "Because we're just getting started."
Majesty took up the cutting board again, her arm cocked back like a whip. She brought it down with a powerful swing, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. Horus's body bucked as the pain flared, the force of the blow pushing him against the bench. The leather was slick with sweat and lubricant now, and he slid slightly with each hit, the friction adding to his torment.
Lucy waited for the perfect moment, watching the rise and fall of his ass as it tried to escape the onslaught. With a giggle, she stepped in, bringing the spoon down in a flurry of four sharp strikes, each one placed strategically to intersect with the previous set. The sound was like a miniature fireworks display, a symphony of snaps and smacks that painted a picture of pain on his flesh.
They continued in this manner for what felt like an eternity, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. The heavy thud of the cutting board was punctuated by the rapid-fire strikes of the spoon, a rhythm that was as mesmerizing as it was agonizing. Horus could feel himself slipping into a haze, his body moving to the beat of their punishment. It wasn’t long before Horus begin to cry and scream with abandon, no longer able to suppress his expressions of pain.
Their laughter grew louder, each of them clearly enjoying the power dynamic they had established. Horus’s tears slid down his cheeks, dropping onto the leather bench, leaving wet trails on his skin.
"Does it hurt baby?" Lucy quipped in a high-pitched, mocking tone, her eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement as she watched him squirm.
Majesty's response was a throaty chuckle. "Oh, I think it does," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "This is so much fun, watching you wiggle and cry like a newborn babe."
Their laughter filled the room, a symphony of sadistic pleasure that only served to heighten his own pain and humiliation. Horus felt his manhood shrink slightly at the thought of being treated like a helpless child, but the feeling was quickly overridden by the relentless assault on his ass.
He knew that begging for mercy would only add to their enjoyment, so he stuck to unashamedly blubbering and bawling, his body writhing and bucking against the unforgiving leather. The sting of the spoon and the thud of the cutting board grew more intense with each passing moment, his skin feeling as if it was on fire. The scent of leather and the sweat grew stronger, a heady aroma that fueled his own desire despite the agony he was experiencing.
Horus's eyes searched for a way out, his gaze flickering from the straps holding him in place to the smiling faces of Lucy and Majesty. His mind was a tumult of thoughts, each one more desperate than the last. He knew he couldn't escape, that their power over him was absolute. Yet, a part of him yearned to break free, to show them that he wasn't just a plaything for their amusement.
Finally, after 630 seconds, the spanks slowed and then stopped. His body sagged against the bench, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The room was silent, except for the sound of his own panting. He felt their eyes on him, watching him, waiting for his reaction.
"Good boy," Lucy cooed, her voice sticky sweet like honey laced with arsenic. "You took it all so well."
Majesty stepped closer, her hand trailing along the purple, welted flesh of his buttocks. "We're so proud of you," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "But we don't want these marks to ruin the fun, do we?" With that, she turned and sailed out of the room, her sandals clacking against the floor like the ticking of a clock.
Lucy's eyes danced with mischief as she followed, leaving Horus alone with his thoughts and the stinging ache of his punishment. He heard the sounds of a bottle being opened, its liquid being poured over something and into the sink, and their low whispers. A few moments later, they returned, each holding a cotton ball soaked in what was clearly peroxide from the smell.
Majesty approached him, her expression a blend of concern and amusement. "This might sting a little," she said, almost apologetically, as she gently pressed one of the cotton balls against a particularly vibrant welt. Horus hissed through gritted teeth as the cold liquid seeped into his skin, the sting setting his nerves alight.
Lucy followed suit, her eyes glinting with mischief as she applied her cotton ball to another sore spot. The coolness of the peroxide was a sharp contrast to the heat of his skin, and Horus could feel the tension in his body rising. They moved methodically, their giggles a strange counterpoint to his whimpers. Each dab brought a fresh wave of pain that had him squirming and wriggling on the bench, trying to escape the biting sensation.
After 20 seconds, the two women stopped rubbing the now only damp cotton balls on his ass.
Majesty leaned in, her voice a purr. "Now, for the pièce de résistance."
With a wink, she turned and sailed out of the room, Lucy close on her heels. Horus's eyes followed them, his mind racing with possibilities. What new torment could they have in store for him? The anticipation was a living creature, writhing in his gut, feeding on his fear and desire.
Their footsteps retreated, the clack of their sandals on the marble floor fading into the distance. For a moment, there was only the sound of his own ragged breathing, the throb of his cock against the leather, and the sting of his bruised flesh. Then, the sound of The bathroom cabinet opening and another bottle being uncapped.
When they returned, they were holding syringes filled with a clear, viscous liquid. The sight of the needles made Horus's heart stutter. "What's that?" he asked, his voice quavering.
"Just a little something to take the edge off," Lucy said with a grin, her eyes glinting with excitement.
“ It’s acetaminophen,” Majesty specified.
They both approached him, and Horus felt his heart racing as he watched the needles come closer to his skin. The anticipation was unbearable, and he couldn’t help but tense up.
"Hold still," Lucy chided, her voice playful yet firm.
Majesty nodded in agreement. "This will help with the swelling," she said, her voice soothing.
With a deep breath, Horus closed hi
31-35, M