by Trent Evans
“Derek, hang on—” The cautious note in her husband's deep voice unsettled her.
Lino sighed. “Here, like this.”
For a second the world froze, even the currents of the air seeming to calm, then she yelped as a line of fire blazed across both her ass cheeks.
“Now run, fulana.”
Still trying to process the fire lancing its way into the flesh of her buttocks she stood still.
No, wait!
Another stroke slashed across her buttocks, even harder this time, and she cried out, her voice high-pitched, breaking on the keenest note.
“Run.”
Her legs moved before her brain had a chance to interfere and she shambled off, the heavy weight of the boots, and her arms bound securely behind her completely throwing off her stride. Her breasts still bounced, despite their bindings, and she was thankful the men were unable to see them from their vantage point behind her.
Oh sure, Breanna. They’ll just watch your jiggling naked ass and your bare pussy instead. Much better.
She followed the track, hoping to God she didn’t fall, knowing it would hurt without the use of arms to catch herself. She concentrated on lifting the heavy boots enough to clear the ground, but half the time her strides were more a sort of quick shuffling than anything else. The pinioned arms made her bend over slightly, trying to find the new center of gravity, the position making her breasts seem to swing even more. Absurdly, she found herself wishing Lino had bound them much tighter. Even that would be preferable to them swinging and bouncing on her chest for all to see, drawing those male eyes the way struggling prey draws a predator.
The track stretched before her, the white railing following and for the briefest of moments felt relief at escaping that cruel whip. Her breath labored further and she kept running, her legs beginning to tire from the heavy boots, halfway around the track she looked for them. The three figures stood together, watching her closely, and the feeling of those male eyes on her confused her, flustered her. She stumbled, nearly falling, then caught her footing once more. Sweat beaded at her temples, her breath beginning to rasp. She slowed her run, hoping for respite.
“No!” Distance and the swirling breeze, lent a deceptive wavering note to Lino’s voice. “You run!”
Picking up the pace, her lungs beginning to burn, she rounded the final turn, the three men waiting for her.
And unerringly, her eye found the whip clenched in readiness in Lino’s fist. Though every part of her wanted to run far away from its deadly length, from Lino’s callousness, she nonetheless obeyed, thinking instead of her husband’s strong arms, of the liquid warmth she saw in Derek’s beautiful eyes.
Courage, Breanna.
She lifted her chin, and picked up her speed.
Chapter Twelve
On a day of so many firsts, there was yet another as he watched her run toward them. Derek was sure he’d never seen something so strangely beautiful; her tall, long lines emphasized by those outlandish heavy boots, the arms tied back, the heavy breasts, as if calling to him, bouncing along to the rhythm of her gait. Her bare sex winked at him between the pumping of trim thighs as she struggled against her bonds, running as best she could toward them, toward the next step in whatever in God’s name was happening here.
“See how she fights it?” Lino pointed. “You must watch that in her. She’s strong.”
“You have no idea,” Kurt muttered, with a grin. “But you will.”
The silver buckles of the harness glinted in the bright sunlight as she drew nearer, the sound of his boots pounding the earth just starting to reach them. Her face was flushed with exertion, a sheen of sweat visible on her skin, her hair blowing about her head.
“Next time, we need to tie her hair back before she inhales it.” Derek had never thought about that possibility before, but without hands and with the length of that blonde hair, he saw it as a real danger.
“Some Owners remove the problem.”
Derek glanced at Lino. “Remove? Like cut it short?” He tried to picture Breanna with a short little pixie cut, and it didn’t seem to fit her.
But dressing her up in harness and boots and treating her like a draft animal does fit her?
He was shaken by the answer to that question that hovered in the back of his mind, that quiet voice inside him already whispering, urging him to embrace those urges he’d never had the courage to confront before.
“No cut short. Shave it.” Lino grinned. “All of it.”
“Jesus,” Kurt whispered.
“Nobody is shaving her head.”
“As you say, Mr. Derek. She is yours. But some Owners find it … appeals” Lino strode forward, bellowing. “Keep going! No stop, until you’re told!”
Derek grabbed at Lino’s arm. “Wait, she’s tired—”
Breanna loped by, head down, big breasts bouncing in the clutch of the straps. He could hear her breathing, a rasping sound over the breeze. Lino took a step toward her swinging his crop sidearm, the leather snapping across her ass.
“Fuck!” She skipped sideways, stumbling. Then she caught her footing, and zipped away as fast as the heavy boots allowed her.
“NO!” Derek strode after Lino, not sure what he was going to do once he reached him. He didn’t like the man’s cruelty, he knew that, but the thought of wielding the crop himself … confused him.
“Wait, goddammit!” Kurt snatched Derek’s arm, holding him back. “Just let him be for now. He knows what he’s doing.”
Derek whirled on his friend. “You’re okay with him whipping your wife’s ass like she’s a horse or something?”
“Yes, I am.” Kurt locked his gaze with Derek. “This is what she wanted, Derek. It’s well known what some of the women go through when they go up for a Term. She knew what she was getting into.”
“Really?” Derek’s hand shot out, pointing at the flagging woman on the other side of the track. “Because this doesn’t look like anything she’d bargained for.”
“It is, you’ve gotta trust me on this. Be cool, remember?”
Lino moved between the two men looking from Kurt then to Derek. “This is normal, Mr. Derek. This is first part of training.”
“What’s that? Hurting her? Beating her like a rented fucking mule?”
Lino wasn’t quite able to stifle a smile. “I like that. But no, that’s not what this is.”
Derek grabbed Lino’s shirt, pulling him closer. “Then it’s time to tell me what this is then.”
The Spaniard’s eyes met his, and his hand closed over Derek’s fist with a surprising strength, breaking his grip and pushing it away. “You will not touch me, Mr. Derek. Ever.”
“Maybe this isn’t going to work, after all.” Kurt shook his head, looking down. “I thought, maybe it would be easier … ”
“Kurt, why in God’s name am I here? Seriously?” He looked again at Breanna, now rounding the third turn, getting closer now. “She’s your wife. You could just be doing all of this yourself, if this is what she wants.”
“No, I can’t.” Kurt met his eyes, and Derek saw the anguish there. “And that’s why you’re here.”
“What? But I thought … you were in on all of this? The dominance and submission thing we talked about, right?” The words felt odd coming out of his mouth. “All of this. Roleplaying? You’re not into this?”
Kurt turned, gazing at his laboring, bound wife. “This is something … I can’t bring myself to do.”
“Why? You said you spank her and stuff all the time.”
“There’s a lot more to this than that, Derek.” Kurt turned, sliding a glance at Lino. “You’ll see.”
“Only the very beginning, Mr. Derek.” Lino’s voice softened. “Nothing will be done more than what she can take. This is why we train them. So that they are ready.”
“For what?” Derek watched Breanna as she pulled around the final turn, dust kicking up under her boots, her speed markedly slower.
“For what this life really
means.” Lino turned toward the approaching woman. “Stop, fulana. Come over here now.”
Breanna slid to a stop, her damp hair swinging before her face. Sweat beaded her skin everywhere, and her constrained rib cage heaved as much as the cruel harness allowed. She looked from Kurt to Derek, then sidled slowly toward Lino. Her hands still pulled and twisted futilely at their bonds. Derek couldn’t help his eyes being drawn to her breasts, the prominent, erect pink nipples, the straps clutching them like a rough lovers hands might.
Lino took hold of her elbow and dragged her closer. He patted her flushed cheek. “Now, what do you do when your Master tells you to run?”
Her eyes studied the cruel Spaniard’s a moment. “I run.”
“Yes. And what do you do when any man gives you order?”
Her jaw clenched, and she glared at Lino. He shook her by the arm. “Tell us, or more whip, fulana.”
“I … obey.” Her mouth twisted as she said it, and despite the obvious distaste to her, Derek couldn’t help but smile at her.
Kurt chuckled. “Hates this part.”
“Show your Masters what happens to filly who disobeys.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t … ”
Lino stepped close to her giving one of her breasts a sharp slap. She hissed and tried to back away, Lino’s grip on her elbow staying her.
“This is second time you have spoken without permission, fulana. You know better.”
She glared at him again, her eyes narrowing. Then she looked away, her cheeks flaming once more.
“She still fights, even though she knows.” Lino placed a palm on her chest between her breasts. “In here, she knows already.”
“Knows what?” Derek couldn’t take his eyes from her face, watching the emotions warring within her.
Lino grinned. “What she will become. What she already is, inside.”
Derek wanted to hold her, to comfort her, no matter how inappropriate that might be — even if she had chosen all of this. Yet he wanted so much more than that — including seeing where this all might lead. Maybe it might mean he was a closet sadist, but the lump in his throat, his dry mouth, and his impossibly hard, aching cock told him he very much wanted to see what came next, to open more doors into this new world.
To see how dark his soul might be.
“Show them,” Lino said, unclipping the crop at his belt. “Ahorita.”
Reluctantly, she turned. Her buttocks were just as round and gorgeous as they’d looked in the skirts he’d always seen her wearing — and imagining what lay beneath. The tight clasp of the harness emphasized the curves of her hips. Two lines, one much more livid than the other, cut ragged pink tracks across the slopes of her ass, just crossing at her left hip.
“Bend over more, fulana. Do it.”
Her plump pussy could be seen as she bent further, the darker pink line of the inner labia peeking between the swollen, smooth outer lips, her tightly clenched thighs failing to hide her charms from their gaze. Derek’s hand itched to ease a palm over the soft, hot center of her.
Kurt stepped forward, his hand stroking her bottom. He bent over her murmuring something in her ear, and her hips swayed closer to him, seeking his touch. Then he gave her ass a light smack, and with a quick kiss to the back of her head, left her alone once more.
“This is what happens to fillies who disobey. They are punished.” Lino smacked her ass, hard, a livid palm print blooming on her right ass cheek. She staggered with a yelp, but regained her position. “That is for your failure to follow command. No hesitation, fulana.”
Derek could see the cords of her hamstrings were rigid, her thighs trembling with fatigue. The straps from her black boots snaking around her calves lent her normally tanned skin a vulnerable paleness he found rather appealing. Her bound hands at the small of her back clasped together, the fingers pressed so hard the flesh shone white.
Kurt sighed, a broad smile on his face, his gaze glued to his wife’s displayed backside. “Never get tired of seeing that. Could look at that all day.”
Lino let the men drink in her femininity a moment longer, then pulled her back to a stand, turning her to face them once more. She looked down at the ground once more, her hair plastered to her sweaty face. Kurt reached out, smoothing the tresses back from her cheeks, pulling one strand from the corner of her mouth. She smiled at him and kissed his wrist as he tucked it behind her ear.
“Be good, now,” Kurt murmured, stepping back once more.
Lino fixed his basilisk gaze on her, the breeze kicking up, rustling the black curls at his brow. “We will see later about your talking. You will never be let off, fulana. It is against rules, and you will be punished for that too.
Breanna’s gaze lifted, and she glanced at both of the men from under dark eyebrows, avoiding Lino’s eyes entirely.
“Wait here,” Lino said.
They watched him move off, disappearing around the corner of one of the new outbuildings that crowded one side of the track.
“Well, pretty fucking intense, right?” Kurt nudged Derek with an elbow. “Now do you see why I kept everything so quiet?”
Derek watched Breanna’s chest shudder with each breath, her breasts moving with each inhalation. He wanted to cradle their weight in his palms, suck hard on each of those long nipples. Make them his, make all of her his. “If you’d told me even half of this, I’d have never believed your ass. No way in hell.”
“We haven’t even gotten started, dude.” Kurt looked back over his shoulder toward where Lino had gone. “He really gets into things. Deep into things. It’s wacky shit.”
“Wackier than this? Worse than harnessing up a grown woman and treating her like a dumb animal?” Derek inwardly cringed, realizing they’d been talking about this without even acknowledging her presence. He glanced over at her. “I’m sorry, Breanna. I didn’t … yeah, I’m an idiot.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered, not looking up at him. “Kurt’s right, this is what I wanted. But … ”
“What?” Derek stroked her shoulder, still not used to touching her freely, but needing her to know he was on her side somehow. Why he thought there were “sides” here at all, made zero sense. But nothing else made sense here either.
“I just, this is even more than I thought—”
“Lino’s coming back, girl.” Kurt stepped close. “Remember the rules. Don’t make us tell your trainer.”
Lino was ambling back from around the building, a coiled length of brown leather hanging from his belt, making him look like some sort of ranch hand or cattle rustler
She shivered. “Sorry, Sir.”
“It’ll be our little secret, girl.” Kurt’s eyes flashed. “But I’ll be collecting my payment later on today.”
Breanna gasped, her face flaming.
“I’ll protect you from your asshat husband,” Derek said, glancing over at him with a scowl. “I don’t know whose side he thinks he’s on here.”
“I don’t think she wants to be saved, Derek.” Kurt quirked an eyebrow. “Quite the contrary, in fact.”
She smiled at Derek, nibbling her lower lip. The beauty of her smile had his heart soaring and his cock jumping. Something needed to be done about that. And fast.
“Now, time for next lesson.” Lino clipped the length of leather to Breanna’s collar, holding it close to her throat, and pulling her along. He looked at both men in turn. “Ready?”
“What, there’s more?” Derek rubbed the back of his head. “Man, this shit is heavy.”
Kurt slapped a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Like I said, my friend. You have no idea.”
Chapter Thirteen
Past the new buildings where Breanna wondered what new ordeals awaited, Lino led her back to the barn, and over to the common area the men had first examined her in. At first she thought he meant to lace her back into that suspension harness and string her up from the ceiling once more. Instead, it appeared he had other plans.
“Hold please,” Lino said, hand
ing the leash to a surprised looking Derek.
Lino went to the back wall and threw some sort of switch or breaker, the sound a loud, jarring snap. A bright spotlight shone down from the darkness of the rafters, illuminating a spot on the earth floor just in front of where the harness hung suspended, menacing.
“Mr. Kurt, please assist.”
Lino and her husband slid a trestle of smooth lacquered wood across the floor until it stood directly under the light. The trestle reached to approximately waist height, its apex a broad top of dark leather. It resembled, disconcertingly, a saddle, the seat well worn by use.
Breanna backed away, almost without thinking, the leash coming up taut in Derek’s hand. All three men looked at her, puzzlement in the eyes of Derek and her husband, steel in the gaze of the cruel Spaniard’s.
Kurt’s expression darkened, his voice a deep growl. “Breanna.”
“Please, don’t make me …” She shook her head sharply, fearing what she knew was coming, yet wanting it more because she feared it.
“Still you talk?” Lino gave a dejected shake of his head. “You must learn. This is good for Mr. Derek too. To see what happens.”
Lino’s hand beckoned. “Over.”
She froze, her gaze fixated on the leather of the trestle, how the varnish of the legs caught the light. It was a lovingly cared for apparatus … of pain.
“Now, fulana.”
Kurt met her gaze, his eyes narrowing. “Do as he says.”
She pressed her hips to the cool leather, and bent over. In the boots, she found the top of the trestle was slightly lower than waist level after all. Without the use of her hands, made worse by the way the wedge soles threw her weight onto the balls of her feet, she couldn’t get the balance right in order to lie down over the leather.
She looked back at the men, their expressions unreadable, Derek’s eyes solidly zeroed in on her ass. Finally, she accepted the inevitable, and fell forward onto her belly, the air pushing from her lungs in a grunt.
