by Trent Evans
“Such a good girl,” Derek breathed, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude at the pleasure she heard in his voice.
“No marks left, really,” Kurt remarked, his hand smoothing over her buttocks.
“A bruise or two, still,” Derek said over her bowed head. “Will that matter when … you know?”
“They’re supposed to be unmarked at the start. Lino says they need to be fair matches.”
Derek grunted. “More like they want to see a nice pale ass get whipped beet red.”
“They want to — or is it you want to?”
Derek’s voice faltered slightly. “I’m not the one organizing this shit.”
Kurt chuckled. “No — but you’re going to enjoy it anyway. Come on, Derek. No point in denying it. You’re as intrigued as she is — maybe more.”
They spoke as if she weren’t there, as if her opinion didn’t matter. Of course, it didn’t really matter, especially now, and that realization filled her with an anxious lust, as if her muscles were vibrating with it, with the tension of the unknown still to come this weekend.
“Do you have a whip or a paddle, Derek?” Kurt said behind her.
Peering up at Derek, she watched his rugged features color, and he looked back over his shoulder. “I — yeah, I think I might.”
“Well, where is it?” Kurt slipped past them with a pat on her bottom, sending electric shivers through her body.
“Wait,” Derek said, his hand on Kurt’s arm. “You stay here. I’m not having you rifle through my shit. Have a seat.”
“Alright, have it your way.” Kurt smirked as he sat back down on the couch. “I already knew you were a perv though.”
“Dickhead,” Derek muttered. He glanced back at her, then down at her breasts. He clamped a nipple between finger and thumb, pulling it sharply. “You’re coming with me though.”
He tugged her by the nipple behind him down the hall and into his bedroom. He placed her at the foot of his bed, the white sheets still ruffled and bunched from their slumber. “Stay there.”
She chanced a glance at the muscular contours of his ass as he turned, squatting down in front of the dresser, her hands itching to cup and squeeze those powerful buttocks.
Fishing around in one of the drawers he found it, and stood. Turning to her, his eyebrow raised, the gesture filling her with a sudden urge to kiss it gently.
Adorable.
“You know, on second thought.” Derek slapped a palm with the flexible black leather of the paddle. “Get down on your knees.”
She dropped instantly, her heart pounding again as she looked up at him.
“Lay your cheek on the floor, and turn that ass toward me.”
God yes …
Pressing her burning cheek to the soft carpet, her whole body trembled. As he fondled her presented buttocks, a finger testing the wetness of her pussy, she smiled, anticipation and dread filling her once more. She tried to control her breathing as he investigated her further, her vision keying in on the bunched up white sock she could see in the shadows under his bed.
“Such a gorgeous ass, Breanna,” he said, his voice quiet. “I never really knew how much of a sadist I apparently was until I met you. When I see you like this, obedient, waiting for whatever I want to do to you, all I can think of is spanking you, paddling you, whipping you. Listening to your cries.” He sighed, his palms caressing both buttocks again. “Then I want to kiss that hurt away, to soothe that pain I enjoyed so much. God, I’ve turned into some uber-perv.”
“What the hell is going on in there?” Kurt’s amused voice drifted down the hallway. “You’d better not be fucking her.”
“Well, shit,” Derek said, kissing her on the hip. He stood, his shadow looming over her. “Guess this’ll have to wait. Your slave driver husband has something else in mind.”
She moved to stand.
“No, not just yet,” Derek said, his voice almost a whisper. “Stay where you are. Very still, Breanna. Let me look at you.”
The beat of her pulse sounded loud in her ears in that the quiet room, tension thrumming through her body as she crouched there under his gaze, her eyes closed, forgetting to even breathe.
“So very beautiful,” he whispered, and her heart swelled again at the lust she heard there. How she wanted to kiss him, let him take her in his arms, lose herself in this world these two wonderful men had created for her.
“I could keep you like this all day, my dear,” Derek said, crouching next to her, his hand stroking the line of her back. “You’ve been so good. But we’ve got more for you to do this morning.”
He made her walk before him down the hall, her hands clasped together at the small of her back, the cold leather of the paddle rubbing menacing circles over her buttocks.
“About time,” Kurt muttered, a smile playing at the edge of his lips, his eyes bright. “What’d I miss?”
“I’ll take that to the grave, my friend.” Derek dropped the paddle into Kurt’s lap. “Gentlemen, never tell.”
“Already keeping secrets are we?” Kurt winked at Breanna, and she smiled. “Well, this triad’s doomed.”
“Can we just go back to fucking her whenever the urge strikes us then?” Derek said, leaving her standing before them and taking a seat the other end of the couch. “All this formal relationship crap — who needs it?”
“As long as we get to spank her too, I’m up for anything.” Kurt smiled at her then, and she giggled.
Breanna made a face at him, but inside she felt a weight lifted from her. The two men could be awfully serious about things — and sometimes it was nice to see a little of their soft side too.
But not too much.
Kurt’s eyes rose to meet hers, and he regarded her a moment. “What are we going to do with you, hmm?”
Her mouth opened to answer, but she shut it again as his gaze cooled.
“Very good. Learning already, Breanna.”
“Something’s wrong,” Derek said, tipping his chin up at her.
“Yes, you’re right.” Kurt’s finger pointed to the floor. “On your knees, girl.”
She sank down to the carpet, sitting on her bare heels, leaving her hands clasped at her back. Her hair veiled the view of the two tall men sprawled on the couch before her.
“Much better,” Derek said, with a wry grin.
“Clasp your hands behind your neck. Move your hair out of the way first,” Kurt slapped his palm with the paddle. “Straighten your back. More — show off those tits.”
She arched, lowering her eyes as their gazes took in her presented breasts once more.
“Those nipples of hers,” Derek said in a quiet voice. “Fucking unbelievable.”
“I love them,” Kurt said, tilting his head to the side as he looked at them. “Lino thinks they should be pierced, but I’m still not sure.”
“I think Lino’s on to something,” Derek said, his heated gaze meeting hers. “I’d like to have little bells hung from them, so she jingled as she ran for us.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. She’d seen other women who’d had them done of course, but the thought of having hers pierced? She might be brave about the pain of a spanking or a whipping, but that? She didn’t think she’d be able to handle it. Her nipples were already so sensitive as it was, just their pinching fingers could be agony.
Still, as she thought of it … could she go through with it? She rather thought the piercings on some of the women she’d seen to be quite beautiful. Looking down at her nipples though, traitorously hard as usual, a shudder ran through her.
If they required it, you would. Slut.
“Lay over our laps.”
Her gaze snapped to Kurt, her eyes saying what her lips longed to.
“Now, Breanna.” Kurt patted his thigh. “I can see we have a thing or two to address — like not doing as you’re told.”
“Might want to do what he says, Breanna.” Derek shrugged. “I wouldn’t press your luck with him.”
&nb
sp; “Would you like to be displayed before everyone this weekend with a red, bruised bottom?” Kurt’s gaze glittered. “If not, I suggest you get your little ass over our laps. Right now.”
She dropped her gaze. “Yes, Sir.”
“Derek wasn’t speaking to you, was he? You’re to refer to him as ‘Sir’ are you not?” Kurt flexed the paddle between long fingers.
“Yes … Master.”
“Better.”
Kurt clasped her by the elbow and pulled her down, the air rushing from her lungs in a surprised gasp. His hands pushed and pulled until her hips lay over his thighs, her head in Derek’s lap, her cheek against the hard bulge of his erection, his fingers stroking her hair.
“You said no marks, right Kurt?” Derek shifted her a little, one hand clasping her nape in a firm grip, while the other still fingered a lock of her hair.
“Nothing that’ll last until the weekend,” Kurt said, snapping down the first blow across her bottom. The sound surprised her as much as the burst of stinging heat. He smacked the left then right cheek hard, then did it again, pausing between each smack to let the pain sink in.
“Don’t clench your bottom, girl. I want you to feel these — and I want to see those cheeks loose for your punishment.”
She tried, but the position, with her legs in a straight line behind her, his arm holding them together, made it so hard not to tighten them. Again the leather came down, lower, the great swipes of the paddle sending her flesh bounding in all directions.
“No, girl. Relax them.” His fingers took pinches of her bottom cheeks and shook them. She hid her face against Derek’s hard thighs.
“It’s alright, Breanna,” Derek said, a finger stroking the soft flesh of her ear. “Just a little spanking. You’ll be fine. You can do it. Relax that beautiful bottom so Kurt can spank it. There you go!”
A steady torrent of blows marched up and down her bottom then, and she clenched her teeth at the building burn, yelping as the leather edge caught her now and then. Kurt paused several times between blows, his fingers investigating the throbbing marks, his palm rubbing slow circles over the blazing heat of her buttocks. Then he started in again, concentrating several blows in the same spot before moving to another, leaving her gasping.
“This should keep your mind focused until the weekend,” Kurt said, his voice almost a growl. “Now be a good girl and be still for these last ones.”
Kurt waited until her wriggling subsided, Derek cooing encouragement at her ear, his hand caressing the tense muscles of her back, tracing a finger through the sweat gathering along her spine.
The paddle snapped at her thighs then, and Kurt had to hold her legs as he laid the leather down one leg then the other, tears springing to her eyes at the bright pain of each stroke, her cries rising an extra octave at the final few, searing blows of the paddle.
“It’s alright now, girl,” Kurt whispered as she lay trembling, sniffling against Derek’s legs.
“You did so well, Breanna.” Derek caressed her cheek, lifting her head off his lap and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Now go to your Master.”
Slipping to her knees, she knelt before Kurt, looking up at him. His thumb gently eased a tear away as he looked down upon her, a smile curving his sensual lips. “Did that paddling hurt, girl?”
Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Yes, Master.”
“Are you angry at me now for it?” His expression was open, his eyes suddenly kind. “Tell me the truth, beautiful.”
Yes, her ass felt like it was on fire, but so did her pussy — and that was precisely because of her paddling, because he’d punished her simply for the pleasure of it. They’d never explicitly talked about that, the notion that he could spank her whether she “deserved” it or not. But it had always had a dark, powerful pull in her fantasies. She didn’t want that choice in her fantasies — she wanted only to submit, to surrender, to endure the pain her Master chose to give her. She’d never been sure it was something that would translate to reality — the mere thought of it chilled her. But she knew now that it was not only possible, it was reality.
Even if it scared her — and it did — she wanted to see what this led to. She wanted this man to take her where he willed, to subject her to his lusts, to shape her to his needs.
To make her his.
“I’m not angry at you.” She gave him a small, tentative smile, even as she blushed. “Master.”
Kurt leaned over her, turning her face up to his, and kissed her on the lips. Holding her there, his lips eased her mouth open, and he kissed her harder, holding her tight as he tasted her, breathed in her devotion. He growled low down in his chest, a sound she felt more than heard, and she met his kiss then, their tongues dancing, seeking, claiming.
“I love you, Breanna mine,” he whispered between kisses, such that only she could hear it. “Always. Forever.”
Fresh tears came to her eyes then, but she smiled through them. “Thank you, Kurt. Thank you, Master. I love you so much.”
Then he gathered her up into her arms, and held her to him, so tight, so long. She wanted it to last forever, his embrace, this closeness. Kurt pulled her away then, kissing her ear, nibbling on her tender earlobe. “Go to him. Show him that you love him too. Be a good girl, and make me proud.”
There was a sadness she saw cross Derek’s eyes for the briefest of moments, and she felt it too — that distance between them she knew he felt, his fear that three would always leave someone out in the cold. But that was bullshit, and she wanted so much to prove to him that it was quite the opposite. That three made them all stronger, that it was greater than the sum of its parts. The strength she drew from each of these men filled her, renewed her. Each man gave her something unique, filling that missing void within herself, something much more than sex — much more than anything she’d ever expected.
Breanna slid off Kurt’s lap to stand before Derek. Her nipples hardened once more as his gaze dropped to her breasts, and she pulled her shoulders back just the slightest bit, knowing what he liked — and knowing now that she liked it too.
“Sir, I want …”
There was so much she wanted to say, so much she should say, but at the core of it, there was that simple, primitive truth: she wanted him.
Here, now. Any way he’d have her. Her Sir.
“On your knees, girl,” Kurt barked. “Show him.”
Derek smiled at her as she opened his fly, a shudder running through his muscular thighs as her hand closed around his shaft. The small slit at the engorged head glistened with moisture, her hand stroking down to the base.
“Go slow, Breanna. I want to watch you.” Derek’s legs widened and she shuffled closer.
His flesh was hot against her lips, burning, his sharp intake of breath as she sucked on the broad head brought silent exultation at her ability to bring him this, show him how much she needed him, how much she needed him there with her, with both of them.
Derek groaned, his head falling back against the couch. “Fuck, she’s good at this.”
“She’s had a lot of practice,” Kurt said. “Now that she’s got two of us to take care of, she’ll be getting a lot more.” He raised his voice a little, his hand playing with a strand of her hair. “Won’t you, girl?”
The blush flamed as she sucked Derek deeper into her mouth, but she nodded anyway. How many times had Kurt told her get his cock out, to swallow all of him? Anytime, anywhere it seemed — and she loved it, reveled in it. She’d known women who used it, that act, as a tool, a weapon even, against their men — but she simply couldn’t conceive of such a thing.
It just felt … right. Giving her man — her men — pleasure in this way, knowing how much it excited them to see her there, on her knees, prostrated, submitting to their rough, rumbling commands.
Doing as she was told.
Of course, her friends would be shocked if they knew this was how she really felt. But none of that mattered. What did matter was that she knew how much she
got, how much satisfaction she felt from serving her men — her Master, and now her Sir, too. If that was wrong, if she’d be labeled a deviant, a slut, then she’d accept that, accept it as the price she paid for showing them her love in their own way, for living her life the way she wanted — not how others thought she should.
Sucking her husband’s cock on command wasn’t a symptom of her abuse — it was a symbol of her devotion to her man, to her Master.
“All the way now, Breanna,” Kurt said. “That’s right.”
Her clit came to life again, heat gathering between her legs at his words, the sounds of her lips sucking Derek filling the quiet room. Having him direct, command her, as she did this, awoke something in her, a dark pleasure she’d first felt as she ran on that track.
Taking Derek all the way, she paused, keeping her lips tight about the very base of his thick cock, the size of him hard to take so deep in her throat. Her eyes closed as she concentrated, staying calm, relaxing, being simply a vessel for his lusts.
Serving her Sir.
“Jesus Christ,” Derek murmured, his body shuddering, his hands grasping her hair.
She obeyed the pull of his hands, letting him move her up and down on his cock at his pace.
Her fingers found the heavy testicles, squeezing them gently, then caressing their weight in her palm to his growl of pleasure. Faster and faster she moved, taking him deep, then pulling back with a hard suction of her lips, sometimes drawing a groan from him. The thighs surrounding her tensed, the muscles hardening to steel, and his grip tightened in her hair.
“All of it, Breanna,” Derek said between gritted teeth, the cords of his neck standing out. “All of me.”
Yes, all of you. All mine.
She looked up at him, triumphant, elated … and in love.
Then his cock swelled even further, and a long groan ripped from him, his entire body shuddering, his hips bucking as his orgasm took him. Hot semen poured forth and she swallowed all of it, her lips sealed about the swollen head, the salty flavor filling her mouth.
Looking up at Derek, she smiled, licking the last of his essence from her lips.
He smiled back, his face red, flushed, a line of sweat following the contours of the cords of his strong neck, a bead of sweat glistening at the base of his throat. “You’re entirely too good at that, woman.”
