He nodded to another man, who stepped forward with his own cigarette. This one tapped his over my breast, the ashes mingling with a faint smell of sweat. Another man aimed for my ass. Then another.
It became a rhythm. A man would step up, deposit his ashes on some part of my exposed skin…my shoulder, my back, the inside of my knee and I was forced to thank each one individually. I was a living, breathing vessel for their filth. A human ashtray.
“Think this piece of furniture is ready for more use, Mark?” One of the men asked, spanking me, then rubbing his hands over my ass.
Mark smirked, blowing a stream of smoke into my face. “I think it’s the only thing it’s good for.” He nodded. “Prep her.”
Cold lube was slicked over my asshole, the suddenness of it making me gasp. I knew what was
