Entrapment

Rolling Thunder laughed in celebration of his twenty-eighth victory in a row. He had moved to the top slot on the regional leaderboards. While he had originally planned to dominate Button Mash, his adversary had fallen into a spiral of depression without his mother, and had left the game altogether. Before he had left, his skill had fallen so much that he blended in perfectly with the noobs. Thunder's victory was complete. All he had to do now was stay at the top.

"Hey, bitch!" He called out. "Get your arse in here!"

Cream Heart crawled into the room on her hands and knees. "Something wrong, Daddy?" She had passed the stage where she found it disgusting to call him "Daddy," despite the fact that he was more than ten years her junior.

"Yeah, I don't have a sandwich in front of me. Get to it, bitch!"

"Yes, Daddy." She crawled to the kitchen and stood up. She was used to this sort of treatment by now. She began putting together a sandwich for him. Roast beef, pepperjack, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise. Toasted on rye and pumpernickel. It was his favourite. She sliced it in half diagonally and put it on a plate with some corn chips and placed the plate on top of her head. She had been on her hands and knees for so long that she had grown accustomed to carrying things in unorthodox ways.

She crawled back to her owner. "Here's your sandwich, Daddy."

"Finally," he said, grabbing the plate. "Now, it's time for my pole-polishing. Get to it."

Cream pulled her self up into his chair. She unzipped his fly and fished out his dick. She knew he hadn't bathed, as she was responsible for bathing him, right there in his chair. Still, she had little choice in the matter. She took the whole thing into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his sweaty shaft. As she reached the base, her tongue reached down and cupped his unwashed balls.

She wasn't very happy with the arrangement. He almost never left his chair. He had all of his groceries delivered, he drew his income from a disability claim, and she took care of all of his needs. He was content to sit in that chair for the rest of his life. He was prepared for her to continue gargling his testicles until one of them died.

As she drank down his seed, she heard the door open. Thunder would regularly have friends over. They would bring him alcohol, as he wasn't old enough to purchase it himself. In return, he would let them use her body. She heard two voices. One of them was a relief to hear, the other not so much.

"Yo, what up, Thunder?" said the first one, setting down a six pack of beer that still had ice clinging to it. "How's it hangin'?"

"Dirk, my man," was the entirety of Thunder's response. Cream didn't care for Dirk. He liked to slap and piss on her. She frowned, knowing that she would have to scrub out the carpets tonight.

"We brought beer and bourbon," said the second. Thunder gave no verbal response, just a wave. This was the one Cream actually liked. His name was Sting, and he raised scorpions as a job. Cream liked him because he was the only one of Thunder's friends who would offer his aid to her. Twice he had insisted that she let him help her with food preparation. Despite the fact that he was terrible at it, she appreciated the gesture. He was nice. She wondered if he was aware that she was here against her will.

"I'm right in the middle of a tourney," said Thunder, putting his headset back on. "Why don't you two go ahead and start? I'll catch you up in an hour or so."

"Don't have to tell me twice," grinned Dirk, grabbing Cream by the tail. "Come on, bitch, the bed's this way." He dragged her to the bedroom, tossing her onto the mattress. He started pulling off his clothing, and she did the same. Not that she had that much clothing to speak of.

She rolled onto her stomach and raised her arse. He liked to use her tail as leverage, wrapping it around his fist. He didn't waste any time, and was fully enveloped in her folds mere seconds after climbing onto the bed.

Sting was a slower lover, having only just finished stripping down. He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead before presenting his erection to her opening mouth. She took it in without a word, as was her duty to him. She rather liked the taste of whatever soap he used.

She had done this so many times that she knew every aspect of the task. She knew what Dirk liked, and would give it to him right away to finish him off quickly. She also knew how to tease it slowly out of Sting, making him last as long as possible. As he was her favourite, she wanted to keep him for as long as possible. He was the best aspect of her life right now, since she had been separated from her family.

Once she had lubricated him with her vaginal drippings, Dirk slipped inside of Cream's arse. She clenched down every time he pulled away, milking him as best she could. He was about ready to pop, she could feel it. After a few more thrusts, he shot his load deep into her rectum. She knew he wasn't done with her yet, and soon she could feel him painting her insides yellow with his urine.

She would see much more use by the three stallions for the rest of the night, each of them trading off on what hole they would use. At the end of the night, after all three of them went to bed, she cleaned up and dressed herself. She had to prepare her master's breakfast for tomorrow before she went to sleep, as well as fluffing the pillows on his chair. Once the liquor bottles were put away, she could go to bed. She curled up next to Sting, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She gave him a small kiss, then laid her head on his chest. If she was lucky, he'd still be around in the morning to watch her make breakfast.