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Leo scowled as he walked past the couch where you and his baby brother were seated. Your eyes filled with tears, pleading for him to help you.
"Do you have to do that here?"
He stopped and watched you and you shivered as you felt Mikey's tongue drag over your neck. "Mm, my baby just kept askin' for it. Didn't you, sweetheart?" Punctuation the last word with a hard thrust of his hand into your core. Your body going tight as a bow string.
The eldest rolled his eyes, shoved a hand into his pant pocket and turned to talk towards the plush chair next to the brute of the four.
"Just keep it down. We're trying to watch the game."
Fuck fuck... Shit...
You really shouldn't enjoy this as much as you were doing, but the way his thick fingers filled you up and managed to hit that one spot made it really hard not to. He was a twisted and broken man beyond repair. One of the criminal masterminds currently ruling over New York in secret behind a nice smile and fake charities. And right now, he had your legs sprawled wide in a lounge of sorts with his hand between them.
Your legs shook as he made violent circles around your clit. You wanted to tell him to... To... To what? To stop? To continue? Honestly, you didn't know. All you could do was bite the finger he'd shoved into your mouth.
He groaned into your ear. "You're such a whore, you know that? Fuck, I can't wait to put my dick in ya."
His hand left your sex for a split second, wiggling one of your hands out from behind your back. You shrieked when he forcefully put it on the rock hard bulge in his pants. "Feel that? Yeah... That's what you did to me."
A grunt from the left of you both made you turn your head and your eyes widened almost comically. "Make'er cum, Mike..."
Donatello, the genius, was watching you. Watching you get fingered into oblivion and beyond. His hand working up and down his massive shaft. Your neck hurt as your captor forced you to look at the tallest brother.
"I bet you want that, huh? To be a little slut and cum for him, hm? Just one of us ain't enough for someone like you."
You choked on air as you tried to speak. Tried to reply. All you could do was whimper when Mikey licked your cheek and pressed himself closer to you. Your right leg was forced closer to his groin making him grind into your thigh and groan. "I bet you're thinkin' of it, aren't you?" his hand return to your cunt again.
"Thinkin' bout how I would fuck you. How I'd bend you over and make you scream my name." Pressure, intense pressure and you drew in a deep breath.
Opening your eyes you looked at Donatello, the look in his eyes caused a full body shiver. It made Mikey chuckle.
"Or... Are you thinking about us both? Want me to fuck your tight pussy with my brothers cock down your throat? Is that what you want?"
A moan made it's way out your throat at his words. You didn't want to admit it out loud but yes. Yes, you wanted that.
"Pl... Please- please..." You looked back to Mikey, tears covered your lashes. You couldn't do this anymore, wanted him to make you cum.
"Please what, baby? Ask nicely and maybe I'll agree."
"Want to... Want to cum, please, sir."
You almost didn't have time to react before Donatello had offered his cock to you. Rubbing it across your lips, almost like he was asking for entrance.
"Come on, open up."
His voice was hoarse and breathy, but you did as you were told. "Good girl."
Mikey picked up speed. Fingers working your clit like an instrument at this point. Faster and faster. Until your legs clamps shut around his hand and you choke on the member currently pulsing its own climax down your throat.
From across the lounge, Raphael sighed as he saw the person he'd bet money on died. Blood covering his chest as his throat was slit. His brother smirked.
"Pay up. I told you that it's not always the strongest that wins. Sometimes you have to be cunning."
"Yeah, yeah. I guess you're right."
They watched the smaller screens as cameras zoomed in on countless of bodies littering the museum this years game had taken place in. 26 people had been thrown into the museum. Only one allowed to leave as the winner. Something soft and warm covered your naked and exhausted body and you watched the TV. The memory still fresh in your mind from last year when you were crowned the winner of the very same horrible sport.