by Trent Evans
“I’ll take that as a yes, girl.”
No! Yes! Oh God, are they really going to do this?
Kurt stood so close to her, the fabric of his pants just tickled the end of her nose. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, and she craned her head up as much as her position allowed. Alas, she couldn’t, contenting herself with taking in the way his clothes accentuated the lines of his body, the well-defined muscles of his thighs, the width of his shoulders.
His finger stroked up and down her temple, his deep voice somewhere far above her. “You’re going to be a good girl, aren’t you? You’ll let Derek touch you. You’re going to come on his fingers, and then you’re going to thank him for it.”
Her cheeks burned, even as her womb clenched at the imagery his words elicited.
Kurt’s fingers grew hard as steel, twisting a fistful of her hair. “And then we’ll decide if you deserve to be fucked again.”
“Each filly is different,” she heard Lino say as he stood and moved out of her line of sight. “You must get feel for each one, Mr. Derek. What she likes, what she fears.”
Her neck was already protesting the way she tried to meet Kurt’s gaze, but still she looked up at him, seeing the way his zipper strained behind the bulge of his erection, mere inches from her lips.
Hands spread her buttocks wide, the air cool on her exposed cleft, her anus clenching in fear. A calloused finger played with it, swirling around the entrance to her bottom.
“God, so fucking beautiful,” Derek said softly. She froze, feeling his warm breath on her flesh.
So close!
The finger nudged just inside the throbbing muscles of her anus, startling her. She futilely pushed against the trestle, trying to get away. “She looks untried, yes? May be difficult, at first,” Lino said. “Many owners prefer their fillies to run with plugs in, some like to use tails also.”
“Tails?” It was Derek, voicing the same question on her own, gag impeded lips.
“Yes, like tail for potra, Mr. Derek. Long length of hair attached to thick plug. Some owners do not let fillies run until their plugs are in. Very beautiful.”
The finger was taken away a moment, then she flinched as cool lubricant was spread over her anus, the fingertip pushing for entry once more, slick with the lubricant. She groaned as the finger slipped inside, pushing deep until the hard knuckles pressed firmly against the inner curves of her buttocks. “Do you wish to use her here, Mr. Kurt?”
She strained to look up at her husband again at the deep rumble of his chuckle.
“I don’t know,” Kurt said, with a hum. “Derek, what do you say? Should we use her there?”
“What kind of fucking question is that?” A hand squeezed her bottom hard, possessively.
“Si, Lino,” Kurt said, laughing. “Very much, si.”
“She must be stretched, Mr. Kurt. It is very tight.”
Then her buttocks were released, the finger pulling from her bottom too abruptly, making her whine at the burn.
The lips of her soaked, burning sex were eased apart, opening it to those male gazes. She struggled against the bonds securing her wrists, reflexively lifting a leg to try to protect herself.
“Easy now, Breanna,” Derek said, a hand patting her bottom. “It’s okay. Let us look now. We’re not going to hurt you. Let us make it feel good. I know your pussy is burning.”
Her breath caught in her throat at his words. Derek had changed so much. Gone was the reticence that had both endeared him to her and frustrated her. Now, he was … someone to be obeyed. Someone who might take her to that dark, vulnerable place she’d always savored with Kurt.
Only now, it would have a different flavor, a new spice, with this man. She looked forward to it, even though she feared where it might lead — and what she might find out about herself when she got there.
“Obey him, Breanna. There’s nothing you can do, no way to stop him. He’s going to touch that pussy, feel how wet it is for him. Stop thinking and let go. Obey us — that’s all you need to worry about.” She winced at the pull of Kurt’s hand at her hair, and she nodded as best she could, wishing his legs were close enough to at least touch with her lips, to feel the hard muscles of his thighs against her face.
She gasped against her gag as two long fingers plunged deep into her sex, then pressed downward.
“That’s it,” Lino said, as the fingers stroked back out, pressing the whole time. “Keep up the stimulation on her tissues, in and out. Firmly.”
“Jesus, her pussy’s a fucking lake,” Derek said, his voice almost a whisper. “Soo wet. That’s it, Breanna. That feels good, doesn’t it?”
Her thighs shook as he plunged and retreated again, each time stroking downward, a finger circling a clit grown so sensitive, the stimulation was on the knife’s edge of spilling over into pain. Soon he’d kindled sensations she wasn’t familiar with, a sort of hot weight, deep within her sex, her clit almost burning, the swollen lips of her sex feeling as if they might be glowing with the heat.
“You will feel like you will wet yourself, fulana. Let it go, when it comes. Push out when you feel this.”
Derek’s fingers stroked faster and faster, shaking her now as he plunged and retreated. Her hips rolled as he worked her, the pressure, the unbearable pleasure building within her, the fingertip fluttering against her clitoris making her moan.
“Just let it happen, girl,” Kurt’s voice rumbled. “Let us see how much you come. Do it now. We won’t stop until you do, we’ll keep at you all night until you’re screaming with it. Come for him.”
Her scream against the rubber of her gag was one of fright, confusion, a soul-deep ecstasy as that hot weight sunk lower. Then Derek’s fingers curled, pressing inside just right, and she bucked, feeling a spurt of moisture sprinkle down the backs of her thighs.
“That is it! See that? Keep at her, Mr. Derek.”
The long fingers pistoned fast now within her sex, other fingertips circling her impossibly erect clit, her whole body shaking with tension now, her muscles taut, her breath rasping through her nose.
Oh God! Oh God!
“Now, Breanna,” Derek growled. “Give it to me. Show us now.”
A firm press downward of knowing fingers and she shrieked, her world drowning in a white haze as she came, an explosion of pleasure radiating from her violently clenching womb. Lost in ecstasy, she was only partially aware of the shocking amount of moisture she felt spurting forth, the coos of the men, a hand smacking the wobbling cheeks of her bottom.
“Good girl,” Kurt murmured, his hand softening, smoothing a palm over her cheek. “Keep going, now. There’s more, and we want to see it.”
Derek’s fingers kept at her, and she writhed against her bonds, her nerves so stimulated now it was a confusing mixture of pain and mind-blowing pleasure. All too soon, as she shrieked against her gag, and she spurted more of her fluid over Derek’s fingers. She didn’t know how to process the swirling overload of sensation, lust, shame, joy, fear, the explosive physical pleasure, nerves screaming as their pathways maxed out.
And then they did it again.
As they forced her over into her third screaming explosion of sensory overload, she keened steadily against her gag, her head spinning, vision hazy. Her pussy dominated all awareness now, her clit singing its own distinct, delirious tune as her sex spasmed over and over, squeezing the long digits stroking remorselessly within her.
No more, oh fuck, no more! I want this to last forever! God, I need this!
“Very good, fulana. I am proud. Very, very good.”
It shouldn’t have even been a consideration with her — a normal person would’ve hated the cruel trainer by now — but somehow knowing she’d pleased even him, met his impossibly high standards … it mattered.
“Jesus Christ, she’s gonna shake apart guys,” Derek said, his hand rubbing circles over her hip, his dripping fingers trailing moisture against the skin of her trembling inner thighs. “All right, Breanna.
No more now. It’s all right now.”
Sagging over the trestle, she moaned, Kurt’s grip loosening in her hair, letting her lay her cheek against the leather bench. Her thighs twitched spasmodically as Derek kissed her bottom, the pat of his hand soft validation matching his murmured words. She’d been good, she’d pleased them.
The force of her orgasm had startled her, the different way it came on, the unusual sensation—
Oh shit, did you pee yourself!
Her hips jerked away as far as her position allowed, which was pitifully little. She felt her cheeks flame, feeling as if the entire length of her legs ran with the moisture. Her rational mind knew what had happened, but that sharp sensation, that urge to go — just as Lino had warned — was remarkably similar to needing to pee. Too similar. And the knowledge that they’d forced her through it anyway, took her past her natural reticence, her confusion at the sensation, made her face blush anew.
She’d always wanted men who wouldn’t take her shit, wouldn’t just take no for an answer, but at times like this, the reality of what that really meant hit her with sobering force. Sometimes she’d refuse … and if her men felt she needed it, they’d make her do it anyway.
Straight out of her wildest, darkest dreams. Or was it nightmares?
She felt Kurt move behind her, and fingers tested the moisture still dripping from between the lips of her sex. “Have you ever seen anything like that before, Derek?”
“No way. Maybe in my dreams.” Derek cleared his throat. “I mean, shit — I don’t—”
Kurt’s laughter boomed through the room. “Dude, save it. I love it — and she does too. Trust me on that.”
Breanna smiled around the constriction of her gag. How should she feel knowing Derek had been fantasizing about her? She pictured his veined, brawny forearm flexing as he fisted that big cock of his. Her conscience she still struggled with it, with what was right — a concept whose clarity seemed to become more clouded by the minute — and with what she needed, what spoke to her on that most elemental of levels, in a language only that primal female animal understood.
Maybe she knew how she should feel, but what she did feel — imagining his semen spurting high, his head thrown back, the strong cords of his neck rigid — was a pure, feminine satisfaction at the knowledge that such a gorgeous man found her attractive, desirable. To know she inspired such lust in that masculine, beautiful male, filled her with a subtle sense of power.
“Fuck, I loved seeing her squirt though.” Derek paused, his voice even lower. “I want to do it again.”
“I think you might kill her, dude.”
Breanna shook her head frantically, her pulse galloping at the prospect, both wonderful and terrible, of Derek’s fingers working on her once more. She was quite sure it would kill her … and she was equally certain there could be no better way to go.
“We’ll get other chances though,” Kurt continued, stepping back around to the front and squatting before her, his bright gaze meeting hers. “She’s just learned how to do it, and we both want to see her do it again, want to give her … practice. Lots of practice.”
Lino joined Kurt, but remained standing, his dark, corded arms crossed over his chest, his cool gaze heavy upon her.
“But right now—” Kurt reached under her hair to unsnap the straps at her nape, pulling the hated gag from between her benumbed, saliva-slicked lips “—there’s something else she needs to do.” His eyes met hers, his jaw hardening. “Isn’t there?”
She knew this was coming, and on the level of a submissive woman at least, didn’t object to it at all. It felt … right. Still, her heart pounded, the points of heat she knew were growing on her cheeks making her drop her eyes.
“Th—” she swallowed, trying to work feeling back into her tongue and lips. “—thank you for … making me come.” Her voice cracked on the last words, her vocal cords raw from screaming into her gag.
“Who are you thanking, girl?” Kurt glanced up at Lino, with a curve of his lips. “Gag is making her forget how to talk, apparently.”
The heat in her cheeks grew hotter. “Derek, Sir.”
“That’s right. Derek made you come didn’t he?”
“Yes, Sir.”
This was one of her husband’s favorites: making her recount what had been done to her, what she’d done at his orders.
He looked over her at Derek, giving a slight nod, then locked his gaze with hers again. “But he did more than make you come didn’t he? You’ll need to be specific. So let’s try that again, girl. Thank him properly.”
She swallowed twice, closing her eyes, trying to calm the pounding of her heart. “Thank you for making me … squirt, Derek.”
“You’re … welcome,” Derek said, a strained tone in his voice.
Kurt grinned, shaking his head a little. “And did you like squirting for Derek, girl? Tell us.”
“Yes—” Derek’s hands grasped her hips firmly, his cock plunging into her sex, filling her, stretching the over-sensitized flesh. “—oh Jesus God, yes!”
Kurt and Lino both laughed. Kurt reached forward, catching up both of her breasts in his palms, locking his gaze with hers. “Now, you’ll let him fuck you. You’ll open that cunt for him. Hollow your back. Take him in. Thank him in the way that matters most.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, every hard inch of Derek’s cock now ensconced in her pussy, the fit full to bursting.
Oh Jesus, two of them?
He was just as big as her husband — in other words, hard to handle all at once. The thought of either of them trying to thrust those heavy cocks into her ass made her shudder in fear … and dark, masochistic anticipation.
What in God’s name is happening to you?
Another part of her though, exulted in this. Like the night he’d made her suck his cock, this was a turning point with Derek, a new chapter in the story of the three of them, the ending yet to be written. How many months ago had she and Kurt talked about this day, this minute, this second?
When another fantasy could be brought to life … and when a broken heart might start to mend.
The first hard plunge into her washed those thoughts away, Derek taking up hard, punishing strokes, his balls slapping against her as he steadily increased the force of his thrusts.
“He’s waited too long for this, girl.” Kurt leaned closer, whispering into her ear, his hands squeezing her breasts harshly, her nipples protesting, the oil still working on her sensitive flesh. “Squeeze his cock, slut. Work that cunt. Make him come. Be a good girl, and give him what he deserves.”
She whimpered at the heat of his words, at the way Derek’s hard thrusts shook her body over the trestle. “Yes … Sir.”
Heat blossomed on her ass as Derek smacked her twice. “Fuck yes,” he ground out, his hips slapping hers now, the sound loud in the enclosed room. Each thrust was so deep it almost took her breath away, the big head ramming against the mouth of her womb, something at once pleasurable, and awkward for her, the sensation one she’d always found difficult to take. The slick sounds of his cock pistoning within the clutch of her sex mortified her even as it drove her own arousal higher.
Kurt nipped her ear, his breath hot on her skin, his fingers pinching her nipples. “No matter what, you’re still mine. Remember that. But now you’ve got two Masters to serve. And you’ll serve us well.”
Derek groaned as he came, the grip of his strong hands biting into her hips, hot seed flooding her pussy. He held himself against her, his hips pounding into her once, twice, a third time, all the while she concentrated on squeezing his cock, on obeying her husband, her Master.
Finally, Derek relaxed, his weight resting on the hands still clasping her hips. His labored breathing hitched as he let his softening cock slip from between her soaked folds.
Kurt pulled back, his hard gaze upon her, his expression neutral, assessing.
She studied her husband’s face as Derek pressed a kiss to the curve of her hip. “You’re fucking i
ncredible, Breanna. Just … incredible.”
Kurt inclined his head. “He’s right, you know.”
Then Breanna closed her eyes, laying her cheek down upon the bench.
And she smiled.
* * *
The moonlight was even brighter than the evening of the auction, the sea of stars above muted, but not totally washed out by the pale orb burning in the night sky. Both Kurt and Derek sat on the back deck, warm cups of coffee in hand, gazing over the track at the huge barn looming on the other side. The broad side of the structure faced them, and both man doors on this side had been left open, warm incandescent light spilling out, the two entrances illuminated like the two eyes of a great, dark face.
“I wasn’t sure you’d do it.” Kurt shrugged. “Hoped you would but yeah, wasn’t sure … ”
“Wasn’t sure, what?” Derek watched his friend, amazed still at what had transpired just an hour before, how his life might never again be the same.
Kurt’s eyes glanced over at the barn. “Wasn’t sure you’d know that — that it was okay. That all of this is okay.”
“Is it okay? You sound like a man trying to convince himself his own words are true.”
Kurt didn’t reply, his gaze steady, locked on the barn where they’d left her, a chain affixed to her collar, curled up on her blanket like some … animal. Her eyes had followed them as they’d stepped out, her lips swollen, eyes big and bright, the long pink nipples erect in the cooling evening air. Even Lino had seemed reluctant to leave her presence, before finally bidding them good night — with nary a word to the woman who’d been reduced to the level of chattel.
“Don’t like leaving her in there, do you?”
Kurt looked down at his coffee. “I think it’s harder on me than it is on her. She’s still deep into fantasyland out there.”
“And you’re not?”
“Didn’t say that. But it’s definitely not easy.”
“If it’s not too weird to say this … I didn’t like leaving her there either, Kurt. Not one bit.”
I’m fairly certain that fucking the man’s wife is significantly “weirder” than that.
