by Trent Evans
Their toy.
You mean his toy. He just lets you play with it.
But now, he wasn’t so sure about that. The way her eyes looked to each of them, not lingering on one over the other, the warmth he saw in those blue depths. Maybe he was imagining it, but perhaps she gleaned comfort from him being close to her as well? Was it really only a gesture on his part to help him feel less guilty? He hoped so.
They adjusted her position, Breanna sighing as Kurt pulled her up by the hair so he could give her pendant breasts a firm squeeze. His fingers traced the white curve of the generous globes bulging under her body weight as they pressed to the tile.
“Here, now you,” Lino held the bottle out to Derek. “You must learn.”
“Who me?” He wanted punch himself in the mouth for being an idiot.
“Lucky man,” Kurt murmured, smiling.
The liniment was slick on his fingers, more like an oil than a cream. Then he felt it.
Warmth.
“What is this?” He pictured muscle relaxers, then thought of how much was already on her skin, and winced. She was going be hurting in no time if this was indeed topical muscle relaxer.
“Only loosens the muscles. Mr. Derek — then relaxes the mind.”
“Whatever you say, Deepak.” Derek shook his head, setting the bottle down, one palm full of the liniment. “What next?”
“All over,” Lino said with a sweeping motion of his hands. “Every inch. Make sure you give much to the legs. Very tight there.”
She murmured as he spread a sheen of the stuff across the tanned, tight thighs. Her hamstrings felt as if they were near breaking point, the muscles rock hard. “Fuck, she’s gonna cramp if this keeps up.”
With increasingly throaty moans from Breanna, he massaged her poor thighs, working the cords of muscle with slippery fingers, finding knots and methodically working them out.
“She likes your technique, Rico Suave,” Kurt said
Lino rolled his eyes, then plucked another smaller bottle from the tray.
Kurt smacked Derek’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Don’t forget her ass, too.”
Though Breanna had quite an athletic build, she was still blessed with pleasingly round, plump buttocks, and squeezing their firmness in his hands was a singular pleasure he knew he’d never forget. She was still sore, hissing and tensing as his oiled fingers passed over particularly well wealed flesh. His thumbs eased into the valley between her cheeks and he squeezed them again, her anus just winking into view as he kneaded the strong buttocks. Soon the slopes of her bottom were slick with the stuff, the tanned curves glistening in the warm light. He spread more over her back, luxuriating in the feel of her firm flesh, the strength and vitality he could feel in her trim muscles. She lay virtually motionless, even her fingers relaxing from around the chains at her cuffs.
From the nape of her neck down to the pale, pink soles of her feet, her skin shined with the oil, the clean scent of the liquid powerful now, the contours of her body alluringly enhanced by the sheen of the liniment.
Lino handed Derek a towel, and he wiped the stuff from his hands, glancing over at a smiling Kurt. “You gonna partake? She is kinda your wife, you know.”
“Oh, no.” Kurt held up a hand, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Guest’s honor.”
“Bullshit,” Derek said under his breath. But he’d wait until another time to analyze why Kurt was letting him do the honors.
Right now, he was having too damn much fun.
“Hold out your hand,” Lino said, unscrewing the cap of the new bottle, light glinting off the dark blue glass. “No, other side.”
“Uh, okay … ” Derek turned his palm down. Lino turned tipped the bottle, dripping a small amount onto the back of his hand. At first, it felt cool, almost icy, but within seconds it transformed, warmth suffusing his skin. “Damn, that’s … amazing.”
Lino spread his hands across Breanna’s buttocks, his thumbs easing the cheeks apart. “There,” Lino said, nodding toward her ass.
“There? You fucking kidding?” Derek looked to Kurt, who just shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Guess we’d better do what the man says.” Kurt dipped his chin. “Trust, remember?”
Derek wet a finger with the liquid, his skin feeling almost frozen, shuddering at what it might feel like on her flesh … down there. He looked up. “You sure about this, Lino?”
“Yes, Mr. Derek.” The trainer’s gaze softened. “She will not be hurt.”
The liquid was already beginning to heat his finger as he drew the fingertip down the valley between her glistening buttocks. She gasped, the muscles of her buttocks balling in Lino’s hands, but the Spaniard kept them open, using his palms to spread them still wider.
Derek’s cock was so hard it ached, protesting the constriction of his pants. He spread more through the cleft, twirling some into the delicate flesh of her anus. The opening clenched tightly, trying to shrink in on itself, but his finger pursued it, and on a spur of the moment burst of cruelty, he dipped the wet fingertip just inside the opening itself. Breanna inhaled sharply, as he poured more of the mysterious liquid on his fingers.
“Over now,” Lino said, nodding at Kurt. The men turned her over onto her back once more, Derek relishing the renewed trembling of her flesh under his hands. Her eyes were wide open now, studying all three of them intently. Her teeth shone bright white as they bit into the rubber gag, her jaws tight.
Lino exchanged a glance with Kurt, then nodded. “Mr. Kurt, show him.”
Kurt smoothed a hand over Breanna’s bare pubis. “Try to relax now, girl.”
She froze as he opened her sex with his fingers, spreading the plump lips aside, revealing the bright, wet flesh within. Kurt glanced up at Derek. “Right there, don’t be shy with it either.”
“Jesus H,” Derek muttered, even as his mouth went dry at the sight of her exposed, vulnerable pussy. “I can’t do this. It’ll burn her.”
“It won’t hurt her, dude.” Kurt held out his hand, giving Derek a predatory grin. “Here, give me some. I’ll help you.”
He dripped some on Kurt’s fingers, then watched, his heart pounding in his ears as the man’s fingers painted the inner labia, then slicked back the hood to stroke oil all around the red, erect clitoris. She let go a long moan, her knees bobbing up and down, thighs twisting against one another.
“Goddamn,” Derek whispered. Her clit had swollen so much that it peaked out from under the hood, the inner lips engorged with more blood. The pleasant, spicy fragrance of the oil mingled with the mouth-watering scent of her now very wet sex.
“This is reward,” Lino said, a rare smile lighting up his dark, angular features. “If she obeys, this can be used to train also — not always with whip. She will want to obey, if she can feel this after.”
“You’ll have to be very good to get this again, my girl,” Kurt said, touching the very tip of the engorged clit, making Breanna grunt, the chains clinking as a harsh shudder traveled through her body.
Derek watched the oil do its work, Breanna’s hips writhing, her thighs clenching over and over, the sex still spread wide by Kurt’s fingers now sopping wet, her clean, alluring scent all around them. The urge to touch his cock, to relieve its ache, was so powerful Derek almost didn’t care that Kurt and Lino were there to witness it.
Kurt’s fingers traced circles of oil around Breanna’s areolas, then pinched each nipple harshly, her keening reaching a higher pitch. Kurt’s other hand stroked fingers through her sex, the inflamed, red inner lips protruding well from between the plump outer labia.
“What do you think, Derek?” He grasped one of her nipples, pulling it up and twisting it, Breanna arching up as far as her chains would allow. “Would you like to see these pierced?”
“Uhh.” Derek swallowed, peeling his eyes away from the glistening moisture further slickening the lips of her sex. “What did you say?”
“Her nipples. Do you think they’d look goo
d pierced? Maybe some heavy gold studs? Or hoops?”
Derek pictured attaching a little leash to one of those hoops, leading her around the grounds by those glorious tits, her arms bound securely behind her, the heavy gag rendering her silent.
You’re going to blow your wad in your pants like a thirteen year old if you keep this up. Pace yourself, perv.
“Well? Sound good?”
Derek stared at Kurt, trying to figure out why his ability to speak had momentarily failed him.
“What about this cunt, then?” Kurt reached over, smacking a palm down onto her mound, patting it with little wet smacks. “A few rings here as well? Lino?”
“It can be done. It is common to pierce at least the pezones.”
Breanna trembled, a nervous squeak issuing from behind her gag.
“Common?” Just when Derek thought he’d found his bearings, they’d sent his head spinning once more.
“Many fillies are pierced during service — wherever they are serving Term” Lino’s brow lifted as he glanced at Kurt. “Assume your farm is same, Mr. Kurt?”
“You assume correctly, Lino.” Kurt’s intent, almost cold gaze traveled over his wife’s pinioned form, and he stroked her pussy with his palm, a gesture more of possession than comfort. “I’ll think about it. I think she’d look beautiful pierced though.”
Lino’s fingers slicked apart the lips of Breanna’s pussy, spreading them wide. “You must learn her body, her reactions. You must know it better than she.” His finger stroked the clit, up, down, the leisurely, but possessive touch drawing a forlorn groan from the bound woman. “Know her reactions. Know what she likes.” His finger drifted lower between the cheeks of her bottom to worry the anus, making her body tense. “And know what she fears.”
Lino seized Breanna by the breasts, squeezing both globes at the base, plumping up the generous globes, the hard nipples inflamed, still wet with the oil. “Some owners, how you say … enhance here.”
Derek thought enhancing Breanna’s already large breasts was a bad idea. He fixated on the long, pink nipples, imagining the needles plunging through, her tears, the gold studs pushed through the new, throbbing holes. His hard cock ached so badly he nearly groaned with it.
You were saying about enhancing being a bad idea?
Kurt grasped one of her nipples, his thumb stroking slowly up and down the pink tip. “One of the girls at the winter retreat at the coast — what was her name, Lino? Big tits, very curvy, but short. Didn’t he induce it with hers? I heard talk, but I wasn’t sure. Just a rumor?”
“Simona. Master Johan’s mare, yes.”
Mare?
Lino released Breanna’s breasts, tapping a finger across his chin. “Yes, I see this.” He fixed a hard gaze on Kurt. “It is not easy. Once the leche starts, it must be maintained or it dries up.”
“Oh I think we’d make quite sure it was maintained.” Kurt’s jaw clenched, his finger tapping the tip of her nipple. “And then some.”
“Wait, wait. Le — what?”
“Milk, Mr. Derek.”
“You mean … hers?” This was taking a turn into Surrealville once more, but his stubborn cock didn’t seem to care, pounding away painfully between his legs. “She’s not pregnant, is she?”
Kurt grinned, tilting his head toward Breanna. “Doesn’t need to be. Lactation can be induced. Might be something we should explore with her down the road.”
“Dude, don’t fuck with me here.”
“Nope. I’m serious.” Breanna began panting behind her gag, Kurt caressing the curve of her breast in a soothing gesture. “I saw it with that other slave, Simona, her tits were fit to burst. They actually led her around the grounds in her harness, those big boobs all strapped up, leading the way. Had some sort of clamps on her nipples to keep things from getting messy.” Kurt’s smile beamed. “She was one popular slave girl that weekend.”
The thought of doing such a thing to a girl wouldn’t have occurred to Derek in a million years, yet the mental images Kurt’s words evoked … weren’t unpleasant.
No, not unpleasant at all.
You’re going to hell, you know that right?
The Spaniard extended an arm, pointing to the other side of the room. “Come, we need to move her. There.”
In the far corner stood an apparatus Derek hadn’t initially registered in the low light. Lino flipped two switches on the wall to his left, two beams of narrowly focused incandescent light shining down from recessed ceiling fixtures, making its purpose clear. It was a stout trestle, approximately waist height, a narrow padded bench on its far side sloping downward from the apex of the contraption. Straps and buckles dripped from it, including a broad black leather belt bolted at one end to the top of the trestle, the other end looped through a brushed silver buckle.
“Time to check her responses.” Lino looked at Derek, then dropped his gaze pointedly lower. “Then you need another … break.”
Chapter Twenty
Every part that made her feminine throbbed with the oil. Her clit felt as if it had swollen to many times its normal size, the sensitivity off the charts. They'd even applied the oil to her anus, and it too throbbed, pulsing with a disconcerting combination of tingling and warmth. In truth, all it made her want to do was keep her legs wide apart, the over-sensitized flesh seeming to react to even the air itself. She didn't know how she'd be able to handle it if they so much as touched her.
Yet touch her they were definitely about to do.
She groaned as they finally, fully released her limbs from the remorseless pull of the winches. When the winches had pinioned her limbs she'd been terrified, imagining all manner of horrible things should they allow the chains to pull too far. Just the thought made her shudder.
Her husband's eyes kept coming back to hers as they released the chains from the cuffs clasping her wrists and ankles. He smiled at her. "Okay, up with you, girl. Time for our reward."
Closing her eyes, she tried to calm her breathing. Normally, the prospect of Kurt fucking her would have had her practically panting, her pussy dripping. Now, she was seriously concerned that his thick cock spreading her inflamed flesh, plunging deep, claiming her … was likely to kill her. Yet, as overwhelmed as she was by the effects of the oil, her clit stood up, hard, almost begging to be touched, no matter if that touch was likely to be agony. Her nipples were hard as stone. Her pussy had grown soft, awash in her own fluids, a trickle of it regularly escaping from between slick lips. Though she feared what came next, her body, with its own selfish, seemingly self-destructive needs, craved it.
“Put her over,” Lino instructed Kurt and Derek as they helped her off the ledge, the floor cold against her feet. She loved being held by them both, even if just for those few moments, feeling the strength of their hands on her flesh, the understated scent of Kurt’s cologne, the raw power that radiated from both big male bodies. Though she’d felt tall all of her life, sometimes awkwardly so, next to these two men, she felt comfortingly feminine, almost petite. She wasn’t used to it, but she knew she could get used to it fast.
The trestle loomed, the straps hanging from it like waiting serpents, patiently waiting to embrace her flesh. Their hands guided her against it, the cool leather against her hips, pressing across her pubis. One of their hands caressed her back, the gentleness of the touch something she desperately savored, like a desert flower drinking up the rain.
“It’s okay, Breanna.” It was Derek, his voice rougher, the deep tones soaked in arousal. “Just lay down for us.”
Blood pounded in her temples as she laid herself along the narrow, padded bench, the incline leaving her head lower than her hips, her hair hanging about her face. Her breasts hung freely, vulnerable, on either side of the narrow bench, her oiled nipples throbbing anew as the blood concentrated in the tips. Kurt came around to the front, grasping her hands and pulling each one down toward the floor. She jerked at the loud clicks as he locked clasps to her cuffs, securing her arms to ring bolts in the boards b
elow her.
She looked up at Kurt as much as her position allowed, her hair partially obscuring her vision, a lock of it catching in the corner of her mouth. His grin beamed at her a moment then his gaze moved beyond her. “Pull her hair back.”
Hands gathered up the weight of her hair, twining it together and pulling it back, the ends of her hair tickling her ass. They secured her hair somehow, the tug on her scalp gentle but insistent, the pull keeping her head up off the bench.
Lino stepped into view in front of her, kneeling down on one knee. The light in his eyes shined like icicles on a frigid, moonlit night. “We will test you, fulana. Then you will give service to your Masters. Do you understand?”
Forgetting the remorseless gag for a moment, she tried to answer, to tell him yes. God yes, whatever would cure the burning, incessant throbbing of her sex, even now the oil making her push her hips back in an effort to open up the tissues — or entice the men to relieve her misery with their hard cocks.
“I don’t know what the hell’s in that oil,” Derek said behind her, pleasure in his voice. “But I like what it’s doing.”
“Yes, it is working then. Fillies come to crave the oil, the attention of their Masters. This is how it should be.” Lino caught her gaze again. “Have you come before, fulana?”
Jesus, was he kidding? She nodded vigorously.
Lino chuckled. “I do not think she understands.”
Kurt caressed her cheek with a rough knuckle. “No, I’ve never made her squirt—”
Squirt? Oh, fuck. No way …
“—but I’d love to try.” Kurt’s fingers traced her lower lip, compressed as it was by the cruel gag. “What do you think of that, Breanna? Do you want to come?”
She grunted, trying to enunciate against the gag even as she knew it was hopeless. She’d never done it before. She’d known other women who had, of course, but it had been something of a disappointment to her that she couldn’t. Something she thought made her almost … not complete. Deficient, even?
