by Tina Donahue
The guys stepped inside.
Max whistled.
Devlin grinned.
Andy’s eyes couldn’t have been wider. He looked at her. “You thought of this?”
She entered. “Yeah. Cool, huh?”
“I’ll say.” Devlin closed the door and threw the lock.
The metal sounded deafening in the quiet. Her heart jumped.
In the gloom, the size of her guys, and their features, looked downright sinister but hot.
Max strode to the nearest wall and regarded a vertical area in black glass running from floor to ceiling.
There were several identical spots on each wall.
He gestured to the one nearest him. “Is this a decoration?”
That would be a waste when so many other thrilling opportunities existed. “It’s for voyeurs.”
Andy’s eyebrows shot to his scalp.
Max rubbed his jaw. “Interesting.” He’d spoken softly and now leaned in. “Can they also hear us?”
“In the gazebo they couldn’t, but in here, yeah.” Where was the fun if they couldn’t?
Devlin squinted at the glass by him. “Anyone back there now?”
Hard rock sounded, as if by magic, not too loud though, merely enough for their stomachs to register the intimidating beat.
The guys turned slow circles, glancing at each black glass. Andy inclined his head to one spot. “Someone back there turned on the music?”
She nodded.
He exchanged a glance with his bandmates.
Devlin stepped toward Jacquie first, the others following. After Devlin gathered her hands behind her back, he spoke to Andy. “Hold her wrists.”
“Why?”
“Never mind. I’ll do it.” He held her wrists firmly in one hand and used the other to unzip her gown.
The top folded over, baring her breasts.
Her nipples hardened and her pussy clenched.
Joining them, Max tugged her dress.
The fabric skimmed her hips and thighs then drifted to the floor.
Heat burned her skin. Never had she felt as naked, even more so than in the gazebo. Somehow, not being able to see those who viewed her made the voyeurism more intense.
Her cunt grew heavy.
Drums pounded. Trumpets wailed.
Andy stopped at her side and pressed his mouth to her ear. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
She turned her face to his and kissed his cheek. “Oh yeah. You?”
“I am now.” He pushed Max from her then clasped her wrists.
Max growled.
Devlin jabbed his thumb at the wall sporting the discipline tools. “Bring her over there.”
Andy did, his grasp solid, his height and bulk larger than she recalled. In here, he loomed over her.
Her legs wavered.
He gripped harder.
Damn. She wouldn’t have guessed he had this in him, but she liked it.
The punishment tools however…
Riding crops took up one area, their presence intimidating. She’d read Story of O, a rite of passage for a good girl who wanted to be bad. Although she devoured the scenes, which left her pussy dripping, she wasn’t into pain. Hopefully, the guys wouldn’t be either when things got rowdy. She didn’t want to lay down any rules here unless she had to.
Devlin touched a particularly nasty looking crop nearest him.
“Forget it.” Andy pulled her against him, protective now, his tone hard and uncompromising to Devlin. “No one’s using that thing on her—or the whips either.”
Max stopped touching one bearing knotted ends, the leather stiff. “Fine with me.”
“Agreed.” Devlin looked at her and the guys. “No marks. Just fun.”
Everyone nodded.
She remembered to breathe.
The music rose exponentially, drums at a fever pitch.
Frowning, Devlin flipped the bird to the glass partitions.
The tune quieted enough so no one had to shout above it.
He touched spanking paddles and floggers, at last stopping by the straps and belts.
Max pulled one from a table, the black leather supple and wide. Delicate light from wavering flames glanced off it.
Devlin left the selections near him and took the one Max held.
“Hey.”
“Chill. You’ll get it back.” He stroked the leather. “Nice.” He tested the thing.
Its snap filled the room, drowning out the music.
At least for Jacquie. Her heart banged against her chest.
“This is perfect.” Devlin wound one end around his palm. The other dangled threateningly near his leg.
Max gripped Devlin’s sleeve. “You’re going first?”
“With this. When it comes to mounting her, I’ll wait until you have your turn.”
Breathing hard, Andy squeezed her breast and tugged her nipple.
She sagged against him.
Acquiescing to Devlin’s plan, Max released him.
No one asked what she thought or wanted.
Kickass didn’t begin to describe this.
With the strap in hand and danger in his eyes, Devlin crossed to her, stopping near enough for them to kiss.
He grasped her neck lightly, pulled her away from Andy and into himself, the ridge between his legs squarely against her mound.
She slumped against him.
Using his thumb, he lifted her chin, giving her no choice except to meet his gaze. “You do what I say in here, understand?”
No wonder they called him ‘the blond devil’. His threatening stance cowed but also titillated, stealing her speech and making her blood sing. She nodded as humbly as she could, eager to play sub to his Dom.
Keeping his hold on her neck, he brought her to a table, manacles bolted to its legs at the bottom, others on its surface at the opposite end.
Devlin bent her over it. “Max, do you mind?”
“Doing it now.” He fastened her ankles to the legs, the space between them forcing Jacquie to spread her feet widely.
Coolish air grazed her pussy, a reminder as to how wet she was, her folds engorged, cunt slick and wanting.
Andy secured her right wrist to the table, Max her left, the furniture lengthy. To avoid the shackles pulling her arms, she had to stretch and stand on her toes, which lifted her ass. An offering to her Doms.
Her labored breathing competed with the music. Perspiration rolled down her cheek.
Max, Andy, and Devlin circled the table, taking her in, her nudity more pronounced since they hadn’t undressed.
She wasn’t certain they would.
The notion heightened her tension.
Chilled air spilled on her ass. It had never felt as huge or exposed.
The guys’ footfalls sounded behind her, stopping there.
Someone squeezed her butt cheeks then pulled them apart.
Her face warmed.
Fingers from one man or more slipped down her furrow and paused on her anus.
She started, her heart whapping against her throat, her breathing strained.
Whoever was touching her explored her tight ring intimately and at his leisure, her butt cheeks still held widely apart.
Even in her most shameless fantasies, she’d never considered this and braced herself for one finger or two entering her.
They fell away, so did the hands. Tapping sounds told her the guys had stepped back.
As best she could, Jacquie glanced over.
Someone swatted her ass, the sting a surprise, the crack resounding.
She panted.
Max pushed his face into hers. “No looking behind yourself, understand? You accept whatever we give and obey every demand. Got it?”
She wanted nothing less in this room and nodded. Face forward, she strained to see their reflections in the glass panels.
Not possible. The table stood between the two areas, facing the black wall. Not her idea. Possibly Bree’s.
Shoes tapped
the floor. Someone stepping to the right, another to the left.
Fabric brushed her thighs.
She jerked.
Two fingers slipped inside her cunt. A thumb glanced over her clit.
Heat burst in her pussy, fiery tendrils shooting this way and that. Gasping, she tightened her sheath around whoever held and stroked her.
“Stop that.” Max growled then offered a new swat. “You don’t do anything, except breathe, until we give you our command.”
She relaxed her inner muscles, not daring to nod since he hadn’t told her she could do so.
Max worried her nub in between sliding his fingers back and forth, entering and retreating from her cunt.
Perspiration dripped off her jaw. Her panting kept time with the frenzied music. Her pussy and clit screamed for relief.
Not giving it, he enjoyed his game, teasing and tantalizing without reprieve.
Warmth rolled through her in ever-increasing waves, gathering in her cunt. On its own, her pussy tightened around his fingers, need and desire thickening her sheath.
He brought her a whisper away from climax then stopped and stepped back.
Shit. She squeezed her fists.
Another swat struck her ass and sounded in the room, the punishment telling her what she’d done wasn’t allowed.
Frustrated and breathless, she relaxed her fingers and fought for calm.
Something brushed against her inner thigh, surprising her. She tried to place what might generate the feeling, but couldn’t.
It glided around her calves, then glanced off her hip.
The strap. Devlin taunting her with it.
Ever the willing sub, she lifted her ass, asking—no, begging—for discipline, not caring how she’d broken their cardinal rule not to do anything except take in air.
No one swatted her ass for this faux pas. She wasn’t surprised and displayed herself further, straining to lift her butt as much as she could.
Shoes tapped, more noises coming from the left than the right.
She pictured Max and Devlin on one side, Andy on the other.
Someone clutched her hip.
Her breathing paused and her heart accelerated. Unable to make fists without their approval, she pressed against the table and waited.
The drums had receded, saxophones replacing them, darkening the mood.
She bit her lip.
New tapping and harsh breathing joined the other noise.
The hand tightened on her.
A whoosh sounded.
Crack.
The strap curled around her hip, the business part smacking her ass.
Its sting didn’t register. Wait. The pain hit, sharp and uncompromising. Lord, lord, lord.
As quickly as it arrived, it faded beneath profound heat.
Jacquie’s head fell forward, her forehead resting against the table, shoulders drooping, ass still lifted, wanting more.
Devlin meted out a second lick, then a third and fourth, each crack and sting acute, the resulting warmth a pleasure she’d hadn’t known existed.
Finished, he flung the strap across the room, as he had his condom in the gazebo. The leather hit a glass panel to her side.
She smiled, hoping it scared the hell out of the voyeurs there.
Ever since Devlin gave them the finger, no one fucked with the music or anything else in here, even though they could have made the candles burn a bit brighter or dimmed them.
Rustling sounded behind her, fabric dropping, shoes clunking.
Feet slapped the floor, whispers shot back and forth.
If she had to guess, she’d say her men were at the supply table, arguing logistics as to who’d have her first, second, third.
Cellophane crinkled followed by ripping noises. The guys sheathing themselves.
Footfalls approached. Hairy thighs pressed into hers, an aquatic scent wafting close.
Max. He’d held his ground to take her before the others.
She lifted her rear, displaying her openings, inviting him inside whichever entry he preferred.
He kissed her spine then touched his mouth to her ear. “Does your ass still hurt?”
A little, though she’d never say as much, unwilling to bring him grief. If she hadn’t been able to stand the licks, her screams would have been louder than a banshee’s. She shook her head.
“Good.” He kissed her cheek then squeezed her shoulder. “Remember what I said about doing anything—and I do mean anything—without my permission?”
He couldn’t be referring to her orgasm. Feeling brave, she had to voice her thoughts. “What if I come before you tell me to?”
“No more spanking or discipline.”
He’d struck at her core desire. One Jacquie hadn’t realized she craved until tonight. “What if I can’t help myself?”
“Then it’s too bad for you.” He straightened and proceeded to her ass. “No exceptions.”
She bared her teeth. Since she was face forward, he couldn’t see.
His sheathed cock slid over her inner thigh, the rubber heated from his flesh.
Something registered in her peripheral vision. Devlin and Andy standing on either side, each pulling her butt cheeks apart, providing Max the greatest access possible.
He was going to take her tightest opening as he had earlier. A penchant she hadn’t guessed he had.
His feet slapped the floor. He touched and explored the full length between her legs then drove his cock into her cunt, their bodies smacking into each other.
My god. Max fucking her ass had been great, but this…
Her pussy had been made for him and the others, a perfect fit for their cocks despite how thick and long each was. They filled her as she craved, until it was impossible to tell where she ended and they began.
Needing closeness, she pushed into him and tightened her cunt around his dick.
He gripped her hips then squeezed her ass.
Her sore cheeks protested.
Censured, she relaxed her inner muscles, no longer trying to take over or lead his show.
He loosened his grasp and planted one hand on her hip. The other cupped her mound. He pumped fast and furious, using her as a Dom should. No apology or regret. The act selfish but entrancing. The setting decadent: sex, musk, and heated flesh scenting the room, candles providing enough light to create a sinful mood for lewd activities.
Finding his rhythm, Max set a pace she couldn’t endure, his pummeling thrusts contradicting his slow, easy strokes on her nub.
Vacillating between the two actions, she wasn’t able to settle on one, her climax sneaking close then slithering away. Returning and withdrawing.
Her fingers hurt from pressing them against the table. She’d tightened her knees to the point they ached. A crick settled in her neck. Her head felt as if it weighed a ton.
Oh my god, please. Let. Me. Come.
He halted, exhaled noisily, then growled.
Jacquie froze, uncertain what had happened or if she’d done something to make him stop. He couldn’t have climaxed. His cock was still hard and stretching her cunt relentlessly. Given his previous order, she couldn’t ask what he was doing, having to wait impatiently instead.
Perspiration rolled into her eye. She blinked wildly at the sting, chasing the hurt away.
Max cleared his throat.
She braced for whatever came next.
He pounded into her, faster and harder than earlier, finger-fucking her nub at the same clip.
A climax roared through her, clouding her vision and stealing sounds, the music gone, Max’s grunts silenced, this room a silent cocoon. Her hands and feet prickled. Someone kept gasping. She wasn’t certain if she did so or not. Deep in her cunt, a pulse beat hard, tapping against his cock.
Sounds returned, his bellow filling the room, bawdy noises joining it. On a ragged breath, he sank down to her, his damp chest pressed to her back, his face on her shoulder.
Loud throat clearing sounded.
She couldn’t make out whether the sound came from Andy or Devlin, each wanting his turn to mount and use her before she’d had a chance to rest.
Enslaved by their desire and hers, she didn’t want any downtime, and awaited their rigid dicks, mouths, and hands taking what they craved.
“Max,” Devlin said. “What are you doing?”
He yawned then kissed her neck. “Give me a sec.”
“We’ll help you up. Andy?”
They padded to either side.
Max swore and straightened. “I’m going, all right?”
He released his cock from her, leaving a void she didn’t like. His feet slapped the floor at an unsteady gait followed by a muffled thud. He groaned. “I’m all right.”
Andy and Devlin didn’t comment.
Devlin’s spicy fragrance drifted close. He rounded the table and settled between her legs.
Slavishly, she lifted her whipped ass to him.
He rested his hand on her butt, his touch hot and heavy, then pushed her cheeks apart. Holding them in position, he slathered lube on and into her passage, intending to claim her there as Max had, each man competing against the other.
She liked them equally. If she had to choose one over the others…
Uh-uh. The thought was too awful to consider.
Devlin took care in preparing her for his invasion, the lube a special blend containing an analgesic to minimize pain. Her idea.
A good one given their virility.
Finished, he touched his crown against her pink ring, stretched somewhat by Max’s fuck. Devlin’s entry proved easier, though he breathed as unevenly as she did.
He recovered first and thrust.
Ah. She lifted her chin at his imposing size and rock-hard erection. A woman’s fantasy. Jacquie’s dream come true.
He thrust and pumped trying to get deeper, not pausing until their bodies touched, a breath unable to slip between them.
Stilled, he breathed deeply.
She took the moment to fill her lungs.
He thumbed her clit.
Her breath whizzed out, pleasure coursing from her scalp to her toes and to points in between.
His grunt conveyed satisfaction; his fierce pumps conveyed ferocious need.
No different from hers.
She met and matched him on each step and at every juncture, taking a journey she’d been born for.
A corny notion but this was too epic to be anything less.
