Her name was Lola, and the second the clock struck midnight, her girls shoved the bottle of cheap vodka into her hand. "Happy fucking birthday, babe. Present's in the back room." They grinned like cats who'd swallowed canaries.

When she pushed open the door, two mountains of muscle were waiting. Marcus, with a beard like a lumberjack and a cock that bulged visibly against his jeans. Drill, a bald, tattooed beast whose eyes raked over her body like a predator sizing up prey.

"Happy birthday, good girl," Marcus purred, trailing a thick finger down her cheek. "We heard you've been dreaming about your tight little ass getting wrecked."

Lola's panties were already soaked. She nodded, dumb and eager.

They stripped her slow. Drill unclipped her bra, thumbs flicking her nipples to diamond-hard points while Marcus knelt, peeling her jeans and panties down, exposing her smooth, bare pussy. He pressed his mouth to her clit, tongue swirling, and Lola gasped, gripping Drill's bicep for balance.

"Please," she whimpered, not even sure what she was begging for.

Marcus laughed, dark and wet. He spread her cheeks, thumbs pressing into her starfish hole. "Look at this perfect little asshole. Never been touched?"

"No, sir," she breathed.

"That's about to change."

Drill produced a box of toys. First, a small steel plug, lubed and cold. Marcus worked it in slowly, opening her hole inch by inch, letting her feel every stretch, every burn that melted into a filthy, fulfilling fullness. She moaned when it slid all the way