Owning Sarah [Sequel to Loving Sarah] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  “Does your pussy belong to us?” Jesse resumed the litany.

  “Yes, Master, my pussy belongs to you.”

  “Spread your legs, lift your dress, and present your pussy for our discipline.”

  “Yes, Master.” Heart pounding so hard she was sure she was having a heart attack, she followed his instructions. Her arousal was so high, she was wet down to her knees. The first stroke of the leather flap across the hard, swollen nubbin of her clit, had her sucking in her breath in a shuddering whimper. Two more strokes elicited the same response.

  But the first slap, right between her pussy lips, ripped a high, keening wail, followed by two more quick yelps. Jesse handed the crop to Adam, who repeated Jesse’s movements exactly, like an instant replay. By the end, her knees threatened to buckle, but she stood her ground, swaying only slightly.

  “Does your mouth belong to us?” Adam said, sticking to the script.

  “Yes, Master, my mouth belongs to you.”

  Jesse stood and unzipped his trousers, letting his rock-hard cock spring free. Fisting it with his hand, he pushed it down. “Kneel up, slave, open your mouth and present it for our discipline. Leave your mark of submission on us.”

  Shakily assuming the difficult position, Sarah opened her mouth. Jesse pushed his cock slowly all the way to the back of her throat, making her eyes water as she fought her gag reflex and managed to swallow it down into her throat. As he pulled back out, she realized why Molly had applied so much bright red lipstick. Her mark of submission was indeed visible on the length of Jesse’s cock.

  He thrust slowly, deep into her throat, two more times. As soon as he pulled out, Adam’s hand gripping the back of her head turned her toward his own cock and drove it in. Pushing all the way past her choking point, he held her face pressed against his groin, until Sarah thought she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. Finally, he pulled out, leaving her coughing and gagging and gasping for breath. A breath she barely had time to draw deep into her lungs before he slid back in, repeating the process two more times.

  While she knelt, faltering slightly as she tried to catch her breath, the two men stood, their cocks proudly displayed, both bright red from her lipstick. Reaching into their pockets, they each withdrew a coiled length of fine mesh cable with a hook on one end. Leashes.

  Each man snapped his leash through one of the filigree loops on Sarah’s collar. “Stand, slave. Present.” they spoke in unison, tugging on their leashes. Trembling violently, she staggered to her feet and assumed the position, legs spread, and her hands behind her back clasping opposite elbows, head up, and eyes straight ahead. Her men stuffed their still-rigid cocks back into their trousers and pulled up their zippers. “You are now owned.”

  Behind her she heard whistles and enthusiastic applause, but she didn’t dare turn to look. Although, if she had, she would have been delighted to see that everyone was smiling at the trio up on the stage. Lisa, Belinda, Bill Payton’s wife—even Boy—were all sniffling and dabbing at their eyes. Molly was blubbering quietly off to Sarah’s left. Even Mistress Sidonie had an actual expression on her usual mask-like, sharp-featured face, although Sarah, only able to see it out of the corner of her eye, couldn’t actually say what it was.

  Jesse closed the slight distance between them, settling his hands gently on her upper arms. “You are also loved, little sub,” he said, his voice low and husky with the unanswered lust that had been raging through him since early this afternoon, when he and Adam had first begun torturing her with denied orgasms. “Allow me to show you just how much.”

  Curling his first two fingers beneath her chin he lifted her face to receive his kiss, a tender, almost hesitant brushing of his lips against hers. Barely a touch, really, more like an exchange of breath. Then he lifted his head, his eyes wet with tears as he passed her to Adam.

  His kiss started out tender, but a sudden twist of his head parted her lips beneath his and his tongue surged in, plundering the moist interior of her mouth. His eyes, too, were welling with tears when he finally drew back. That’s when Sarah realized that the thundering roar in her ears wasn’t the blood rushing through her veins. Okay, it was partly that. But it was also a crescendo in the applause raining down on them from the little army of spectators and well-wishers.

  Master Michel appeared at Jesse’s left elbow carrying a silver tray with three glasses of champagne. Jesse handed one to Adam, then one to Sarah before picking up the third. As they clinked their glasses together and took their first sips, the applause, shouts, and cheers grew deafening.

  Smiling, Jesse held up his hand for quiet. “We want to thank everyone for comin’ tonight,” he said. “You honor us with your presence as we embark upon this new and excitin’ stage of our lives, and we hope you will all continue to favor us with your love and support.

  “At this moment, none of us knows for sure whether Sarah is our submissive or our slave. We only know that we love and cherish her and will do everythin’ in our power to guide her as she seeks the answer to that question. Our journey together is, after all, just beginnin’ and there will be many revelations to come.”

  He grinned. “Now, as is customary at these shindigs, I understand there is wine, beer, and boatloads of food. So, enjoy the refreshments and the dancing’ while Adam and I take our property someplace private and torture the daylights out of her. We won’t be long. Don’t anybody leave.”

  As they tugged Sarah down the aisle by her leashes, everybody in the room stopped them—to shake hands, to hug and kiss Sarah, to congratulate them, and to wish them a happy life together. The last person to approach was the only person Sarah had never seen before—the ruggedly handsome man in the hand-tailored silk suit.

  While Jesse was occupied talking with Master Z, the stranger extended his hand to Adam, then pulled the younger man into a deep, heartfelt embrace. When they pulled apart, Adam opened his mouth to speak, but the man just shook his head. “No,” he said, putting out his hand to palm the side of Adam’s head. “Just let me look at you for a minute. I can’t tell you how much good it does my heart to see you looking so happy.”

  “Sarah,” Adam said, “I want you to meet John Davidson, my friend, my mentor.” He paused. “And my Master.”

  “The man who helped you heal after Jill died,” Sarah said as her hand disappeared into John Davidson’s freshly manicured hand.

  He pulled her into an embrace as deep and heartfelt as the one he’d shared with Adam. “I am so delighted to meet you at last, Sarah. You are a lovely submissive, and I can see how much you love your two men. Adam has told me a great deal about you. And you must be Jesse,” he said, relinquishing Sarah’s hand to shake Jesse’s. “Adam’s told me a great deal about you, too. I’m honored to meet you and to be invited to share this special moment with you.”

  “The honor is mine, Master John,” Jesse murmured. “I’m glad you were able to make it. We hope you will also be at our weddin’.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. I have some business in Washington and some old friends in Annapolis that I plan to visit over the next few weeks. I plan to make your wedding my final stop before returning home to Wyoming—but enough. We’ll have plenty of time to chat later.” He smiled broadly. “Go. You have a new slave to ravish.” After one last hug for Sarah, he turned to introduce himself to Master Z.

  Jesse and Adam tugged on Sarah’s leashes, leading her through an elaborate door and down a long hallway lined with similarly elaborate doors. They went to the door at the end. Jesse quickly unlocked it, then stood to one side to let Adam and Sarah precede him.

  The room was like something from a Renaissance castle. The twelve-foot high stone walls were topped with a domed ceiling featuring a painting of several pairs of lovers in varying stages of undress, cavorting in an idyllic garden filled with picturesque ruins. The enormous oak bed, with its massive headboard, carved wooden posts, and heavy red velvet drapes, stood on a platform in the center of the room. Large, ornately carved sixteenth-century
Spanish chests flanked the head of the bed. Against the left hand wall was an even larger armoire, nearly black with age. Off to the right was a partially opened door that led into an elegant en suite bathroom. The only other furnishings in the room were two medieval-looking X-shaped chairs with a low table between them. On the table was the sterling bud vase with the three roses in it and an antique sterling silver box. The room was lit with the flickering light of dozens of candles arrayed around the room on tall, multi-armed candle stands.

  Jesse and Adam led Sarah to the center of the room, then stopped and unclipped the leashes. Automatically, she lowered her head and started to drop to her knees, but Adam’s fingers beneath her chin halted her descent and brought her gaze up to meet his. His stare was so intense, she began to tremble with mingled fear and anticipation. “Do you feel owned, little slave?” he asked.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. Because you are owned.”

  Jesse moved in behind her, letting her feel his heat before pressing his hard, hot body against her back. His rock-hard erection was a thick ridge against her spine. An erection he’d had for so long, it was throbbing like a thumb hit with a hammer. “Do you feel loved, little slave?” he rasped in her ear.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. Because you are loved.” Splaying his hands across her hips, he began gathering up the fabric of her chiffon and lace ceremonial gown. When the skirt was bunched up around her waist, he said, “Arms.” She raised them and he pulled the gown off over her head, leaving her standing there in her karada harness. Both men reached into their pockets and removed the remote controls to the dildos still inside Sarah’s pussy and anus.

  Sucking in a deep breath and pulling her entire bottom lip between her teeth, Sarah watched as they pressed the buttons. She yelped as pleasure shattered her, sending ecstasy convulsing through her flesh, which by now was so aroused, she had no hope of stopping her climax. It was as inevitable as gravity. And less than five seconds away.

  When her knees gave way, Jesse’s arms around her held her up. He pulled aside the twin crotch ropes, soaked from her copious flow of pussy juice, and toggled her clit, catapulting her out over the abyss. As she hung there, breath held, Adam cut through her shinju ropes, finally freeing her breasts from their bondage. Howling and shrieking, both from the ecstasy of the orgasm slamming through her, and the pain of the returning blood flow to her newly released breasts, she bucked and writhed in Jesse’s arms, consumed by the pleasure/pain wracking her body.

  Jesse’s finger continued manipulating her clit, bringing her instantly to the edge of another orgasm. When this one hit, crashing against her in wave after wave of ecstasy, Adam removed the nipple clamps, ripping another series of shrieks and howls from her throat. Falling to his knees in front of her, he took one of her abused nipples into his mouth, suckling gently as he flicked his thumb over the other one, switching back and forth between them as Jesse’s continued manipulations of her clit sent a third and even a fourth climax exploding through her ravaged body.

  By the time the vibrators turned off and the last of the aftershocks heaved through her, she was a sobbing, trembling mass of satiated flesh, incapable of action, incapable of speech, incapable, even, of thought. On some level she knew that Jesse had picked her up and was carrying her over to the enormous bed. She knew that he and Adam were climbing the steps and depositing her gently on the mattress. She didn’t know where the small, ice-cold bottle of water had come from. She just knew that all of a sudden Adam was holding it to her lips. And all of a sudden she was so thirsty she drank the entire contents in one gulp.

  She didn’t realize that Jesse had gotten undressed until he was sitting on the bed next to her, lifting her onto his naked lap. His damp cock, slathered with red, greasy lipstick, ground against her hip. Adam, by now also naked, crawled in beside them, lifting her legs over his thighs. His cock, also smeared with the remnants of her lipstick, was an iron rod against her calf. Both men leaned back against the sumptuously padded headboard. Adam picked up one of Sarah’s hands and lifted it to his mouth to place a lingering kiss on her knuckles. “We are proud of you, sweet pea,” he said against her flesh. “So proud, in fact, that we are going to give you a gift.”

  “Another gift?” she asked, with noticeable lack of enthusiasm. She was exhausted. Dolores was passed out, in the middle of the floor, flat on her back, limbs flung to the four corners of the room. She was snoring.

  “What’s the matter love, aren’t you excited?”

  “Of course I’m excited.”

  He chuckled. “Well, if that’s your excited face, it needs work.”

  “Our gift is to let you Dominate the next scene.” Jesse chimed in.

  Wait. What? Did he just say—?

  She pushed herself up away from his chest and looked him in the eye, playing it for all she was worth so he wouldn’t suspect that this was all a set-up. “Okay, let me get this straight. You’re going to let me set the scene?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me order you around?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me tie you up and torture you?” Okay. Maybe this gift has possibilities after all. Dolores had perked up considerably, raising her head and shoulders, holding them up by leaning on her elbows.

  “Yes,” Jesse said without hesitation. “There are toys and restraints in the armoire. Why don’t you go look them over and pick something you like?”

  “Excellent. As of right now, you are both on speech restriction.”

  Scrambling off the bed, Sarah went over to the armoire. When she finished rummaging through the impressive selection, she’d picked up a tube of lube, two pairs of police-issue handcuffs, four ankle restraints, two large black butt plugs, two long spreader bars, and a silicone strap-on dildo. She’d also chosen a riding crop and a flogger made up of many, many short, soft strands. She placed all the items on a silver tray.

  With a deliberate swagger, she walked back over to the bed, placing the tray full of sex toys on the nightstand. “Slave Jesse,” she said in a mock-stern voice. Her mouth was so dry she could barely speak. “Present.”

  Jesse slid off the bed and stood with his legs spread, his arms behind him, hands clasping opposite elbows, his head bowed, eyes looking at the floor.

  “Slave Adam, stand beside Slave Jesse and Present.”

  Adam did. As the two men stood side by side, Jesse whispered out of the side of his mouth, “Tell me again why this was such a good idea.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “That’s ten strokes apiece,” Sarah said sternly. “One for each word. I’ll hear your thanks.”

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  “Do I need to explain speech restriction to you?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  She permitted herself a small, satisfied smile. Having power over two human beings was so goddamn heady! A girl could get off on this! Too bad she was naked and barefoot, though. That put her at a distinct disadvantage. For this to truly work, she needed to be wearing a black bustier and six-inch stilettos.

  Holy Moley! Sarah couldn’t stop staring at her two hunky men, standing there so meekly, cocks red and thick and so hard they were pointing straight up. Pearly pre-cum dribbled from the tips. Heart hammering in her throat, her mouth no longer dry, but instead watering like Niagara Falls, Sarah said, “Turn your backs to me, bend over, and grab your ankles.”

  Presented with two hard, male asses, Sarah could only stare as if mesmerized. She could see the dark, puckered skin of their anuses, as well as their ball sacs hanging between their legs. Seemingly of its own volition, her hand lifted to Adam’s deeply dimpled ass cheek. At her tentative touch, his muscles clenched, his firm flesh rippling powerfully beneath her fingertips, inviting her to broaden her stroke. Which she did, savoring the feel of first Adam’s, then Jesse’s hot skin beneath her hand. God Almighty, this isn’t a sight you see every day! These men are fi-i-i-ine! And they’re all mine!

  “Very nic
e, slaves,” she murmured appreciatively, shocked to feel that familiar wetness starting to dribble down the insides of her thighs. Oh, my God! There’s no way I can be aroused again! There’s just no way! It’s not humanly possible! But the moisture between her legs said otherwise.

  Stepping back, she drew back her arm, being careful to keep her elbow straight, and let the riding crop rip through the air. It landed with a resounding slap on Jesse’s right ass cheek. She was gratified to hear the tiny “Oof,” that escaped from his mouth and to see the rectangular red mark bloom on his skin.

  Moving to her left, she let fly again, leaving a similar mark on Adam’s deeply dimpled ass. By the time she had delivered the twentieth and last stroke, ten apiece, she was dripping with sweat and each ass sported ten vivid red rectangles, along with some fine red lines from the whippy crop handle. Dropping the crop to the floor, she approached and stroked their fiery flesh with both hands, kneading the heat more deeply into their heavy muscles. “Very good, slaves. Straighten, turn toward me, and Present.”

  When they were facing her, standing in the proper position, she lifted her hand to cup first Jesse’s, then Adam’s cheek. “I am proud of you, slaves. You have earned your pleasure.”

  Turning on her heel, she went to the head of the bed and patted the mattress. “Slaves, turn and face the bed.” She waited while they got into position. “Shoulders down on the mattress, asses high, hands behind your backs.”

  Jesse swallowed convulsively as he assumed the abjectly submissive posture. His body jerked as he felt the cold steel close around his wrists, heard the metallic snick as the cuffs locked into place. Holy fuckin’ hell! He closed his eyes as full realization of the vulnerability of his position hit him like a jack-knifed eighteen-wheeler barreling uncontrollably across four lanes of ice-covered highway. “Permission to speak, Mistress,” he asked humbly.