by Nina Lane
Her voice caught in her throat when she encountered the look on Kruin’s face and knew that she had pushed them too far. He folded his napkin and rested it alongside his plate before he stood and went around the table.
Lydia flinched as he approached. Her skin was hot with anger, her eyes flashing. When Kruin snapped his fingers, she wished she could snatch her impulsive words back, especially since he had just reprimanded her less than two hours ago.
“Stand up, Lydia,” Kruin ordered.
Her heart hammered like a drum inside her chest. She couldn’t move, her fingers tightening around the fork. She realized in that instant she had not reached the limits of her fear, that dread could sink to fathomless depths in her blood.
“Did you hear me?” Kruin’s voice was like thunder.
Lydia pushed her chair back and stood, her legs trembling. She thought she might fear Kruin more than Preston and Gabriel combined. She couldn’t look at either of the other two men, but she felt Preston’s amused and satisfied smile as if it were burning into her skin.
“Since you want so badly to know,” Kruin said coldly, “I’ll tell you now to lift your skirt.”
Chagrined, Lydia forced her fingers to curl around the cotton of her dress as fear swamped her previous anger. She pulled her skirt over her bare legs and thighs, exposing the round flesh of her bottom to Kruin’s dark gaze.
Before she could speak, he pushed her plates to the side and laid his big hand flat across her lower back. Pressing her down onto the table, his muscular leg nudged between her thighs to spread them apart. Her shaved labia spread like the throat of a flower, exposing the tight hole whose pleasures only Preston had thus far experienced.
“Kruin, I—”
“Quiet!”
Lydia gasped when his blunt fingers pressed into her sex, running along the pleats with an expert touch. To her further shock, her secret lips swelled in response, her nipples stiffening against the cool tabletop. Her hips thrust involuntarily backward, but met with empty air since Kruin had taken his hand away.
“She is already wet,” he informed the other two men, much to Lydia’s dismay. “Lydia, you are no longer allowed to achieve satisfaction without explicit permission. Do you understand?”
Lydia pressed her forehead against the wood and nodded, even as she wondered if she had the willpower to prevent herself from succumbing to the eruptions of rapture. She gave a little shriek when Kruin’s hand slapped her bare rump.
“Do you?” he repeated.
“Yes! Yes, I understand.”
“Good. Gabriel.” Kruin nodded at the younger man.
Lydia’s eyes widened with alarm as Gabriel moved into her line of vision, his hands working the buckle of his belt. With a few movements, he removed it and reached across the table to wrap it around her wrists.
He fastened the other end of the belt to an opposite chair, forcing Lydia’s body to stretch so tautly that she had to rise to the tips of her toes to remain in contact with the ground. The position provided the men behind her with a delicious view of her elongated body, the curve of her hips descending into the tense muscles of her legs and pointed toes just barely brushing against the plush rug.
Aghast, Lydia stared at Gabriel in a desperate hope that somehow he would voice a protest over what was about to take place. Then she noticed the heavy bulge already straining at the front of his trousers, and her hopes dissolved like salt in boiling water.
Disappointment settled heavily into her skin, for she had come to think of Gabriel as the gentle soul of the triad. Instead, as the evidence presented, the mere anticipation of her punishment incited a raging arousal in him.
For an instant, Gabriel’s green eyes seared into hers as if to remind her that she deserved the punishment about to be dispensed. That she had no one to blame but herself for her current, degraded position.
She swallowed past a growing lump in her throat as she felt Kruin push her skirt farther over the globes of her buttocks. None of the men spoke. Fear curled like a snake in her belly, and Gabriel’s belt dug cruelly into her wrists. She had to fight the urge not to pull against her restraints, knowing that struggling would only worsen the pain.
Lydia closed her eyes, silently cursing herself for her quick tongue. She strained to hear something, anything, through the thick silence, and then pure terror rained through her when she again heard the distinctive rasp of a leather belt being pulled from a waistband.
Her eyes flew open in shock.
“Wait…” Panicked, she yanked at her wrists, trying to pull them from the grip of the belt. “Oh God, I’m sorry, I…”
“You may plead as much as you like, Lydia.” Preston moved around to the other side of the table so he could look at their bound captive. “It’s pretty to hear you apologize so desperately, but it will do you no good.”
Lydia’s horrified gaze clashed with his blue eyes, which were as cold as a wintry day.
“You can’t,” she gasped, all dignity slipping away in the face of her fear. “Please, Preston, I’ll do anything.”
He laughed. “Oh, yes, my dearest, I know you will. Believe me, I know.”
Kruin’s hand pressed hard against her lower back once again, commanding her to remain still. Tears sprang into Lydia’s eyes. Her body began to quake when she felt Kruin step away from her, and then the leather belt whistled through the air and landed upon her plump bottom with a harsh bite.
For a shocked instant, Lydia froze with sheer terror as she felt the leather make painful contact with her skin. Her breath choked her throat and her legs turned to water when she heard the belt slice through the air once again.
Lydia cried out as agony lashed through her body, as Kruin wielded the belt again and marked her flesh with an unmistakable stripe of red. Preston’s face swam before Lydia’s tear-filled eyes, his expression shifting from cold anger into wicked pleasure as he watched the execution of her punishment.
In the depths of her overwhelmed soul, Lydia knew how much he loved this, how he had wanted to see her bound and lashed before him, how such degradation excited him. Disgust rose like a black cloud in her chest, even as she tried to remember that she had agreed to this treatment.
The belt landed with another crack, jerking a scream from Lydia’s throat. Tears of anguish and humiliation spilled down her cheeks as her hips writhed frantically to avoid another sting. Kruin lashed her with the flat side of his belt, causing a wide pattern of welts to appear on the full cushions of her bottom.
White pain scorched through her. Her arms ached with the strain of struggling wildly against her restraints. Her entire body grew hot with the effort of attempting to endure the power of Kruin’s belt.
“No! Oh please stop…please…” The sobs fell plaintively from her tight throat as the belt slapped her again and again, each lash punctuated by a cry of pain that echoed from the paneled walls of the dining room.
Lydia’s body jerked forward with every hard strike, her breasts rubbing repeatedly against the smooth wood through the cotton of her dress. In a frantic attempt to escape the blows, she tried to squirm onto the table, but only succeeded in spreading her legs farther apart to expose herself fully.
Preston moved behind her to obtain a better view of her utter helplessness, her white skin marked cruelly by recurring bites of the belt, the curve of her spine flexing with frenetic movements as she twisted and turned, the pulsing nub of her clitoris peeking shamefully out from between her moist sex.
A hot, red burn covered the quivering mounds of her bottom cheeks, scalding pain into her very bones. When Kruin stopped the rhythm of his beating, Lydia closed her eyes against the desperate hope that he would stop. Her unending tears became tears of relief when she heard the belt clatter onto the table beside her.
Her bottom burned like a volcano of pain, and her entire body quaked as she continued sobbing. In some distant part of her tortured mind she thought it was over, that they would unbind and release her, but through the haze of pain she
heard the unmistakable scrape of a zipper.
Lydia pressed her cheek against the table, the smooth wood damp from her copious tears. She became vaguely aware of low voices behind her, but she could not discern their words. She shifted, straining against her restraints, her sweat-dampened body writhing with the need to be free.
Then Kruin pressed his big hands between her thighs to splay them. So insistent was his grip that her crimson bottom cleaved apart to expose the dark valley and taut ring of her anus.
Lydia gave a cry when Kruin pushed his blunt finger into the closed, little hole, but her body was so stunned by what had just occurred that she could not muster the strength to resist. For a panic-filled instant, she thought he would attempt to penetrate her there with his penis, but then she felt the hard knob nudging against the slicker hole just below.
Kruin spread his hands flat over Lydia’s scorched bottom, spreading her wide as his thick root began to ease between her slippery folds. His features were set like stone, his black eyes burning like coals as he began to push slowly into her gripping passage.
Lydia gasped with panic, her hands clutching frantically at the length of the belt as she struggled to escape the massive tip pressing against her most intimate areas.
“I can’t,” she choked.
“Yes, you can,” Gabriel murmured quietly.
“No…no, he’s too big…oh, God, I can’t…”
Her words dissolved into helplessness as Kruin pushed his prick farther into her, stretching her beyond what she thought was possible, stuffing her so fully that her entire body reacted to the intense pressure. Her sex clenched involuntarily around the solid, veined shaft as her head began to swim with sensory overload and the undeniable flicker of arousal that sprang to life within her.
“No,” she gasped, fighting the urge to succumb to the pleasure. “Oh, stop…he’ll split me in two!”
Part of her did indeed feel as if Kruin’s huge member would cleave her apart. She struggled against another wave of tears when he began to pump into her, each stroke causing a sting of friction that augmented the throbbing burn of her bottom cheeks. Kruin’s big, tanned hands dug into the fleshy cushions, eliciting a yelp of renewed pain from his captive as his fingers pressed hard against her punishing welts.
The dark stalk of his root thrust in and out of Lydia’s sleek hole like an automatic piston, varnished with her plentiful juices, every thrust causing her plump, crimson bottom to bounce from the impact. Little shrieks broke from Lydia’s arched throat, mingling with the smack of Kruin’s large testicles slapping repeatedly against her juicy fissure.
Lydia groaned with utter wantonness, overwhelmed by the pervertedly delicious mixture of pain and pleasure as her hips began to thrust backward to meet the force of Kruin’s increasingly rapid strokes. Her body sank into the myriad stimulations as if she were drowning, her nerve endings sparking with excitement from the brimming friction.
As astonished as she was by the way that the sensations twined so rapidly through her body, as if the beating had provoked some latent, twisted desires deep within her, Lydia remembered in the depths of her submersion that she had to prevent herself from climaxing. She closed her eyes, her teeth sinking hard into her lower lip as she fought the overwhelming urge to loosen the reins of her pleasure.
Kruin’s shaft thrust so deeply into her that she felt the jolt clear up to her belly, and then he pulled from her with a grunt. His hand grasped his bursting phallus, dripping with the evidence of Lydia’s stimulation, and with a low growl of pleasure, he shot creamy liquid over her quivering mounds.
Lydia could not prevent herself from crying out with frustration as she felt the warm, wet fluids dripping into her sore crevices, knowing he had taken his pleasure while denying her own.
A heavy silence descended over the room, then there was the sound of Kruin zipping his trousers. He took his belt from the table and smacked his hand hard against Lydia’s bruised, wet rump.
“Let that be a lesson, Lydia. Do not forget it.”
Lydia winced as he spanked her again, and then the slam of the door signaled his exit from the room. As the drenched eroticism of the entire event began to ebb, Lydia was swamped with a flood of humiliation.
Still bound and exposed to the waist, her bottom stained with welts and the thick ropes of Kruin’s semen, her skin slick with perspiration, she lowered her head to the table and tried to swallow the sobs that continued to rise in her chest.
“Well, my dear.” Preston’s voice was amused as he reached over to push her hair away from her face. “You’ve had a taste of Kruin’s punishment. And lucky you, you still have mine to look forward to.”
His fingers trailed over her damp cheeks to her chin, his fingers forcing her face toward him. She stared at him through glassy, stunned eyes, her shame sinking even deeper as she saw his cruel, mocking smile.
Then he leaned across the table to press his mouth hard against hers, pushing her lips apart, his tongue flickering out obscenely to stroke the cavern of her mouth in a movement edged with dark possession. He bit down hard on her lower lip, causing Lydia to gasp with sudden pain, and then he pulled away, his blue eyes hot like lava.
Without another word, Preston turned and strode from the room. Lydia’s body sagged with relief, for she had begun to think he would subject her to further outrages that very evening. She pressed her forehead against the table again, her entire body scorched, agonized, and throbbing with unfulfilled longing.
Gabriel came around the side of the table, his adept fingers unlashing her wrists quickly from the tight confines of his belt. Lydia nearly sobbed all over again as her muscles relaxed deliciously from their taut strain, as she was finally allowed to pull her dress back over her crudely spread vulva and bottom. She felt Gabriel’s broad hands settle around her waist as he helped her from the table.
Lydia stumbled as the blood rushed from her head and the world tilted crazily off balance. A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she grasped his forearm to regain her equilibrium. Her labial lips pressed wetly together, surrounding her swollen bud with such delectable heat that her frustration augmented to infinite proportions. Her tender breasts pressed against her dress, each movement causing the fabric to brush her hard nipples.
“I’ll help you upstairs,” Gabriel said, his arm moving to slip around her waist.
Lydia pushed his hands from her with a sudden, sharp gesture, her eyes flashing with rekindled irritation.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
Gabriel’s mouth compressed with displeasure. “Lydia.”
“No! Stop it.”
Uncaring if he saw fit to add yet another punishment to her growing list, Lydia headed for the door. She went upstairs, her body weak and trembling, the thin cotton of her dress chafing her scorched bottom. She sank onto her bed with relief, burying her face in her pillow as blessed silence closed around her.
CHAPTER SIX
Gabriel stopped outside Lydia’s bedroom door. A dim light shone from beneath the door frame. He wondered briefly if she had been awake all night or if she had fallen asleep with the light on. The sky outside was just beginning to shift from black to gray, but the sun hadn’t yet begun its slow ascent over the horizon.
Twisting the knob slowly, Gabriel opened the door and looked into Lydia’s bedroom. She was lying on the bed, still clad in her cotton dress, her back to the door and her skirt hiked up over her hips as if she could not bear even the flimsy touch of cotton against her bruised flesh. Muffled sniffles filled the room, and her body shuddered with little hiccups.
Gabriel suspected the pain had eased enough so that she was not still sobbing from the physical effects of her punishment. Rather, it was arrested stimulation, not to mention deep shame and frustration over her degraded position, that provoked her current dismay.
He entered the room, closing the door with a click. Lydia’s body tensed visibly as she heard him, her sniffles catching in her throat. She fumbled to cover the full
mounds that had provided them all with a deliciously dark, erotic display.
Gabriel murmured a mild reprimand as he gathered a fistful of her skirt in his hand and drew it back over her rounded hips. The brutal evidence of Kruin’s belt flamed against her pale cheeks, the raised welts contrasting sharply with the whiteness of her skin.
Gabriel skimmed his fingers over the backs of her voluptuous thighs, causing a tremble to ripple through Lydia’s body. He sat on the bed beside her and stroked his hand over the crescendo of her hip to her waist. She didn’t move, but her muscles tightened at his touch.
“Lydia.”
Her only response was another sniffle. Gabriel leaned against the headboard and slid his hand over her waist until he reached the curve of her breast beneath her cotton dress. His fingertips lingered against the soft swell, and his prick stirred inside his trousers.
“Look at me, Lydia.” His voice was not harsh, but underscored with an undeniable layer of authority.
She turned, her buttermilk cheeks still streaked with tears, her thick-lashed brown eyes watching him with a deep sense of apprehension.
Gabriel smoothed her tousled hair away from her forehead, his long fingers sliding through the dark, silken strands. His hand moved to the back of her neck and down the warm plane of her back, pressing against the ridge of her spine as he drew her closer to him.
Lydia stiffened as she feebly tried to resist the insistent urging of his grip, wincing as her bottom came into contact with the coverpane.
“No,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to—”
“Ah, Lydia. Yes, you do.”
Although Gabriel was far stronger than she was, he relaxed his grip slightly. Lydia sniffed and tried again to pull away from him, but appeared so drained of all energy that she finally collapsed against his chest with a small moan.
