The Sister (The Boss Book 6)

by Abigail Barnette

  I obediently dropped my jaw and let him fuck my mouth with the dildo, gagging and drooling as he pushed back too hard. I choked and sputtered but tried as best as I could to wind my tongue around the shaft of the toy. It withdrew, only to be replaced with the real thing; Sir’s cock rammed into my throat and blocked my shriek of surprise.

  I heard the soft click of the machine’s motor as it took a few strokes. Then, it shut off. Still fucking my mouth, Sir instructed Monsieur, “She’ll need plenty of lube, from the friction alone. All right, line it up… Good. Put it in her then manually rotate the arm forward, until it’s at its deepest point.”

  I rose on the balls of my feet and squealed around Sir’s cock as the dildo entered me. Monsieur pushed the arm slowly, until the dildo was seated as far as it could reach.

  Sir pulled out of my mouth. “How is that, Sophie?”

  “More,” I moaned, wriggling my hips back. The legs of the machine scraped the floor as Monsieur scooted it closer and readjusted the arm. This time, the toy just barely bumped my cervix. “There, Monsieur. Oh, yes, there.”

  With my part of the proceedings seemingly over, Sir shoved back into my mouth and picked up where he’d left off. “The controls are quite simple. And Sophie remembers her signal?”

  I opened and closed my hand three times.

  “Then, shall we proceed?” he asked.

  The machine chugged to a sluggish start, dragging the dildo lazily back and forth. I groaned in frustration at the initial slowness.

  “Shall I turn it up?” Monsieur asked, and before I could answer, the machine’s speed kicked up higher.

  “When should we let her come?” Sir asked, still thrusting into my mouth.

  “Whenever the machine makes her come, I suppose,” Monsieur replied. “And you? Will you come in her mouth, her cunt, or her ass?”

  “Oh, I think I’d rather pull out and come across her pretty face,” Sir said.

  “Also a good choice.” Monsieur laughed softly. He walked one hand down my spine, to the very top of the cleft between my cheeks. “I think…her ass for me tonight.”

  I moaned loudly around Sir’s cock.

  “Well, let’s make sure her cunt is well tended, first,” Sir said with a dark laugh.

  Penetrative orgasms had always been hit or miss for me. Until I’d met Neil, I’d thought it was a symptom that I was broken. But I’d also never been with a machine before; the simple fact of the matter was, no human could fuck as hard and fast, which was apparently enough to stimulate my clit from the inside. The rapid stroking of my G-spot helped, too, and if I hadn’t been so firmly strapped down, I wouldn’t have been able to hold still enough to keep me safe. Monsieur turned the dial up faster, and I was lost. My feet cramped, my knees locked, and my chained hands clawed. I only had enough presence of mind to stop myself from opening and closing them; I certainly didn’t want to stop. And I definitely didn’t want to clench my teeth, with Sir fucking my face. That wouldn’t be pleasant for either of us. All I could do was will myself totally limp in my bonds, until the relentless pounding finally brought me over the edge.

  But the machine never stopped.

  “There’s a very nice wand vibrator in the sideboard there,” Sir said, his voice a bit strained. He would come soon, I was certain.

  Monsieur stepped away, and I heard the drawer open. When he returned, he reached beneath me to press the wide head of the wand directly on my clit. The combination of sensations was too much. Everything numbed, giving my overloaded nerves some relief for the moment. Sir drove harder into my throat then pulled swiftly out. Hot, heavy droplets landed across my cheek, nose, and mouth; at least some of it hit the blindfold.

  Not being able to see or wipe my face heightened the helplessness I already felt. I knew what I would look like, shackled, my skirt hiked above my waist, cum smeared over my face. It was so dirty, so depraved, and it was all for them. All for Sir and Monsieur, only for them.

  The flesh I’d thought numb to sensation woke suddenly. A violent climax seized my body, stretching on and on. My limbs trembled, my mouth hung open as I gasped for air, cum dripping from my chin. I tried to squirm away from the vibrator, but I couldn’t move, both from the shackles holding me and for my own safety as the machine pounded on.

  “Please, no more,” I begged, tasting the cum on my lips. “I can’t come, again.”

  A slap stung my face. “You will,” Sir warned.

  “Perhaps I should be merciful,” Monsieur mused. “Do you want to come, again?”

  “No, Monsieur! No!” I sobbed, clutching the bench so tightly I was sure my nails would tear the leather cover.

  He clucked his tongue in admonishment. “If only you had said please.”

  “Please!” I screamed as another orgasm built deep in my pelvis. But there was no escape. Monsieur held me completely at his will, rolling the vibrator back and forth, cranking the speed of the thrusting arm high and higher until my moans and pleas were lost in the high, frantic whine of the machinery. I don’t know how long they tormented me, but I came, again, and again, my thighs wet and sticky, my throat raw from screaming for mercy, begging them to stop.

  But I never said “red”.

  The vibrator switched off, and the machine slowed to a halt. Sweat trickled through my hair, down the back of my neck. I was totally spent, and we were far from finished.

  “Beg him to fuck your ass, Sophie,” Sir said, and I already heard Monsieur squirting lube into his palm.

  My words rasped from my parched throat. “P-please, fuck my ass, Monsieur.”

  “Louder!”

  “Please, I want you to fuck my ass, Monsieur!” I gulped back a sob of humiliation.

  Monsieur gave me no warning, no warm up. He forced himself past my body’s resistance, all the way to the very hilt. I reared up against my bonds, wailing in an agony so sublime my knees shook and my skin broke out all over with goose bumps.

  Monsieur bent over my back to whisper, “Since you asked so nicely, I will fuck you. And when I’m finished, you’ll know you’ve been fucked.”

  I cried out, again, at the next powerful thrust, but my tired throat could barely produce sound, anymore. My voice would be completely gone by the time he was finished with me.

  “Will you beg me to stop?” he asked, grinding even deeper, taking my breath away.

  I swallowed, gritting my teeth against the pain. “No, Monsieur!”

  “No?” He laughed and withdrew nearly all the way, only to slam forward, again, so hard our bodies made a slapping noise. “Only a filthy slut would let a man take her this way.”

  Another brutal thrust left me whimpering. I couldn’t even shout, anymore; the pain was my sole focus.

  “You want this, don’t you?” he asked, grasping a handful of my hair and jerking my head back. “You want me to fuck you until you can’t stand up. You want me to come in your ass.”

  “I do, Monsieur, yes!” I shouted, though my body still protested his welcomed violation. Hot tears seeped from behind the blindfold and down my face as he used my body cruelly, while the pain transformed to streaks of cold lightning assailing my spine and every internal part of my clitoris.

  “Please, can I come?” I shouted in desperation, because it was bound to happen at any moment. My pussy contracted, and I found myself trying to move with Monsieur, to draw him deeper or fight against him. Any semblance of control I’d had vanished. I didn’t even hear Sir’s answer to my question, or Monsieur’s. I thrashed and moaned and heard Monsieur’s shout of release as I gave in to the torturous, pleasurable oblivion.

  The back of my dress tore away, and nails raked down my back, deep gouges that made me scream in shock. I was familiar enough with impact play that I’d experienced a cane splitting my skin every, now and then, but intentionally tearing to cause pain was entirely new. The burn of the stinging stripes leached into the surrounding skin, and I fought against the shackles, twisting to escape.

  I heard Neil’s sharp intake o
f breath from across the room, so I knew it was El-Mudad who’d done it. We’d talked about my love of pain, but it had never occurred to me to specify which type when I’d given him blanket permission to hurt me.

  “Check in, Sophie,” Neil said. There was an urgency to the request that sparked panic in me. Fear, I liked. Panic, I did not.

  “Yellow. I need… I need…” I opened and closed my hands helplessly.

  El-Mudad withdrew from me carefully and quickly untied the blindfold. The calming effect was almost immediate. He walked around me, crouching down so he could look me in the eye. “Do you need to be unshackled?”

  I shook my head. “No. No, I’m…”

  “Yes, you do,” Neil said, reaching down and popping the closures. Sometimes, it was best for him to decide what I needed; when I got lost in subspace, I could always count on him to find me. He unstrapped my ankles while El-Mudad kissed my back, cautiously avoiding the painful stripes he’d left.

  “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “Oh, my love, I didn’t—”

  “It’s okay,” I assured him. He freed one of my wrists and brought my palm to his mouth to kiss it. When both were loose, I leaned up on my elbows on the bench and pushed my sweaty hair from my face. “I’ll try anything once. And once was enough for that.”

  “I’ll get you some ointment,” Neil said, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “No. I want to keep going.”

  He looked at me doubtfully. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ve just had an incredible amount of pain—”

  “No pain, then?”

  “Sophie…” El-Mudad said gently. “I am uncomfortable going on, now.”

  “Oh.” I’d never considered the possibility that a Dom would be the one to tap out. I knew that it was just as much their right as mine, but it seemed so bizarre.

  My legs couldn’t hold me up. I leaned heavily against El-Mudad’s side, and he helped me shuffle to the shower. Neil went to the comfort room to get the supplies we would need for aftercare.

  “I am so sorry,” El-Mudad said, again, his big brown eyes searching mine earnestly as he helped me undress. “I should have made sure… I should have checked—”

  “You got caught up in the heat of the moment,” I said with a shrug, kicking the wilted, destroyed dress aside. “It happens. I still trust you.”

  “But this is the first time we…” He looked down. “I feel like I’ve failed you.”

  I laughed. Loudly. “Failed me? Do you realize how many times Neil and I have done something that accidentally hurt me or he did something I didn’t like without knowing it would bother me? It’s a part of this kind of relationship. You communicate and don’t repeat the same mistakes, and that bond gets stronger. You know that. You’ve done this before.”

  “I have. But I’ve never come into an already established relationship like this. I don’t want to disappoint you.” He turned on the taps and waited a moment, only signaling me to step under the water when it was a comfortable temperature.

  I took his hand and let him lead me under the rainfall showerhead. The water stung my back. I looked straight up and scrubbed my face with my hands; dried semen feels weird on skin, and I wanted it gone. Wiping the water from my eyes, I faced El-Mudad, again. “You’re not disappointing me. You did something in the heat of the moment. And now, you know that I don’t like it. You didn’t cause any permanent damage, and I was willing to go on. So, nobody had a bad time here.”

  Though my legs were wobbly as Jell-o, I rose on the balls of my feet to kiss his cheek.

  “I hope Neil feels the same way,” El-Mudad said, unable to meet my eyes. “If you had seen his face…I thought perhaps he hated me.”

  “He doesn’t hate you. At all.” Maybe in that split-second, in his role as my Dom, seeing his sub in real trouble, he might have. But not as Neil Elwood, the man who loved El-Mudad. “You know what Neil has been through. Stuff can trigger strong reactions from him. But now that he knows I’m fine, he should be okay.”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” his voice called from the door, startling us both.

  “We were talking about you.” I didn’t know how much he’d heard.

  “Yes, I know.” He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off then kicked his shoes aside. “Though, I’m not as worried about myself as I am about you, Sophie.”

  I caught El-Mudad’s eye before he could look away. The pain and shame in him were far more than any they’d put me through tonight. I’d welcomed mine, though.

  “I’m fine. I think El-Mudad is more shaken up than I am,” I said gently, silently imploring Neil not to be angry.

  But I shouldn’t ever make assumptions about my husband. Disrobed the rest of the way, he stepped into the water with us and took El-Mudad in his arms. Holding El-Mudad’s chin with one hand, so he couldn’t look away, Neil said, “I could never hate you. I love you far too much to hold something like this against you.”

  El-Mudad nodded, dropping his head as Neil crushed him close. I covered my mouth and nose with my hands, blinking back tears at the sight. It was only when I sniffled back my happy crying that Neil looked up.

  “We need to get her back tended to,” he said, giving El-Mudad a manly slap on the back, made louder by their wet skin.

  “Then, I want to go back to the house,” I said, before anyone could lure me into the comfy bed in the other room.

  El-Mudad tilted his head in question.

  “I want to spend our last night together at home. Our home,” I stated firmly.

  We might not be able to live together all the time, but from now on, wherever we were together, we were home.

  ****

  The morning came far too soon, and with it El-Mudad’s ride to the airport. It seemed unfair that the day should be as beautiful and sunny as when he’d arrived. It wasn’t that I wanted our parting to be sad and gray and dismal. I just wanted it to be different. We were different.

  “I don’t suppose we could persuade you to stay?” Neil asked, only half-joking as we exited the car at the helipad.

  El-Mudad smiled sadly. “There will be a time, one day, I hope, that I won’t ever have to leave you.”

  “I look forward to that,” Neil said, and put his arms around El-Mudad. They kissed, ending only reluctantly when I cleared my throat. They put out their arms as I rounded the front of the car.

  “I love you,” El-Mudad told us, with another kiss for me. “I’ll call when I arrive in Paris.”

  “Please do,” Neil told him, and went to the trunk to retrieve El-Mudad’s scant luggage.

  My heart lurched as El-Mudad took the bag and slung the strap over his shoulder. He looked like someone who was really leaving. I hated that.

  “Maybe we could come visit you,” I blurted impulsively. “Around the holidays.”

  Neil looked surprised by my outburst, but not as though he disagreed with it. “It’s certainly something we could look into. If Sophie’s schedule permits.”

  It would permit. I would make it permit.

  He glanced between the two of us. “And perhaps, then, if it’s not too forward of me to suggest it…we might talk about a more permanent living arrangement?”

  “I’d like that,” I answered, hopefully for both of us.

  “This was a change that I don’t think any of us anticipated,” Neil said, and he actually blushed while he spoke. “But I’m glad it did.”

  El-Mudad’s phone dinged, and he grimaced. “I must go. We will talk, again, soon.”

  “Skype sex!” I suggested enthusiastically, and he laughed. Then, with a brief hug and hastily exchanged pecks on cheeks, he turned and headed off to his ride.

  We waited on the top of the slope and watched from our safe distance, waving as the helicopter rose into the air. We shielded our eyes to follow its path as far as we could see, but the sun was too bright.

  “Well…kind of boring, now, huh?” I said with a shrug.

  “Don’t flatter me,” Neil said dryly, b
ut I knew that he understood my meaning.

  Back at the house, we shuffled listlessly inside.

  “Snooker?” Neil asked, his heart audibly missing from the request.

  I didn’t like snooker, anyway. I wasn’t any good at it, and Neil kicked my ass every time. I put up my usual argument. “I don’t see what’s wrong with good old-fashioned, trouble with a capital T, American pool.”

  “Well, we do have a pool. Fancy some laps?” he suggested wanly. “Or we could go for a drive. I could pick up some crab and—”

  I put my hands on his shoulders. “Neil. Stop putting off missing him. You already do.”

  He pulled me into his arms and kissed me, long and slow, and a bit sad now that it was us on our own, again. When it ended, he kept his forehead pressed against mine. “You might be the only reason I can survive a long-distance relationship.”

  I rubbed my nose against his. “We have a blissful eight hours before my mom gets home with all her souvenirs. Twenty-four before Olivia is back. If we’re going to go swimming, it’s going to be skinny dipping.”

  “No pool sex, please,” Neil made me promise as we headed for the stairs that would take us down to the lower level.

  “No sex at all,” I revised. “I am very sore.”

  I shed my top as we headed down the stairs. At the bottom, I pushed down my pants.

  Neil whistled low. “How are you even able to lie down?”

  I tried to look over my shoulder at my back, but there was no chance of getting a glimpse of what he’d seen. “Is it bad? It hurts like hell.”

  “Yes. Very bad.” He frowned and held me still with his hands on my waist. “I should have stepped in.”

  “Stepped in, how? You weren’t standing there,” I reminded him. “Plus, it was so fast you probably wouldn’t have thought about it until it was over.”

  “I feel as though I didn’t protect you.” He ran a hand over his hair.

  “Seriously, don’t beat yourself up about it.” Probably not the best choice of words. “I don’t feel like either of you crossed a line or let me down. I don’t feel violated. We’ll just be more careful, next time, all right?”