“Ginger’s worn off,” Mason said. “Damn, that was fast for her. I can still feel some residual sting from mine.”
“Different bodies have different chemical makeups,” Griff said. “Everyone responds differently to it. At least we know it’s possible to discipline her with figging. Somewhat, at least.”
“Yeah. One minute.”
Griff nodded. “When you come down, you’ll have a ten-minute break to go to the restroom, remove the ginger, and clean yourself up. When you come back here, we’ll fit the hook in your ass, and then you’ll suck Mason’s cock while I flog you.”
Every staccato word beat along her clit like a finger, and her breathing grew labored again.
“I think she likes it,” Mason said, grinning widely.
“Yeah,” Griff agreed. “I have something else planned for you, too, little slut, but you’ll just have to wait to find out what that is.”
“Time.”
Mason spanned her waist, and the tension in the ropes lessened. Emma squeezed her eyes shut as she was lowered toward the floor.
Don’t drop me, don’t drop me.
Griff let her legs down first, and when her toes hit the carpet, she wanted to weep with the relief.
Her nose tingled in response.
Mason hugged her tight, and his lips caressed her ear. “You did so well, little one. I’m very proud of you.”
Griff made quick work of the ropes still binding her, and as they fell away, Emma felt a sense of loss. Being constrained by the hemp provided her the ultimate sense of security. She took a deep, shaky breath.
When the leather pulled free of her skin, she nearly crumpled, held up only by Mason’s strong arms.
Griff surrounded her from behind, his arms coming around to embrace them both. “Our strong, brave girl,” he murmured into her hair.
More tingles hit her nose, and Emma squeezed her eyes on the tears that welled. Unlike earlier when the world felt surreal coming down from subspace, now her heart was wide open and vulnerable.
She knew she was only their girl until the training ended.
She wiggled her shoulders, and their grip loosened. She pivoted and looked at both men, memorizing their features, studying the passion still roiling within them. Their intensity and desire flamed her own, fanning the kernel of lust to something bigger. Hotter. Needier.
“Go wash up, Emma,” Griff ordered. “When you come back, the fun will begin.”
His seductive promise shooed away her melancholy, and she grinned then headed for the bathroom.
* * * *
The door clicked shut behind her, and Griff whooshed out a breath. “For the record, I can’t decide if I liked that or hated it.”
Mason laughed. “You loved trussing her up and having her under your complete control.”
Griff studied the ropes and harness, lifted them to his nose, and inhaled the lingering sweetness of Emma. “Yeah, you’re right. Damn, she was not enjoying one aspect of that. I doubt that such retribution will keep her from breaking the rules again, though.” He tossed the ropes into the hamper and stowed the harness in the sideboard.
“Gonna be hard for her when we’re bound and determined to force her into failing, isn’t it?”
“Damn straight.”
Mason shifted on the balls of his feet.
“That plug still working its burn on you?”
“Yeah. You must have picked up some monster pieces this time. Never had the fire last this long.”
Griff winced in empathy. Only once had he been subject to figging. His body chemistry was at the highest intolerance level for ginger there was. It hurt going in, agonized him the entire time the piece was lodged in his ass, and felt like salt in a wound coming out.
Never again.
“Go take care of it, then.”
Mason hustled toward the door, which opened just as he reached it.
Griff checked the clock and gave an impressed whistle. “Five minutes, excellent.”
Emma’s face was pretty in its pink flush. “Thanks.” She cocked her head. “Is it wrong to admit how much I’m looking forward to the fun stuff?”
He chuckled. “Not at all.” He wiped down the wand before putting it away. “I suspect your enthusiasm is in direction proportion to how much you disliked the punishment.”
She shuddered. “Absolutely.”
Mason rejoined them. He hugged her to his side, pressed a small kiss to her hair, and looked at Griff. “Do you need a break, too?”
His libido was roaring at him to take her right fucking now. But he tamped the unruly voice aside. She deserved more consideration than that.
Something he’d not done with any other trainee sub.
Griff froze momentarily.
Mason’s swiftly indrawn breath let him know his partner picked up on the flickers of affection he couldn’t seem to control.
“I’m good if you both are.”
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
“Good.” He crossed his arms and stared at Emma until she started to fidget.
Her gaze flicked toward Mason, back to Griff, toward the ceiling, then her feet. All of a sudden, she gasped and sank to the floor. She exquisitely positioned herself in the slave pose, head bowed in submissive supplication.
A swell of pride nearly choked him.
“You are still in training with us, Emma, but you must remember the little details. Your new Master might not be as lenient as we are.”
A crushing wave of despair assaulted him from two angles. He glanced sharply at Mason, caught his glower, and returned it full force. Mason subsided.
Griff looked down at Emma’s bent head and wished he could recall the words, wished he could assure her that all would be right in the end, but he just couldn’t.
He was taking enough risks during this training process. Opening his heart to Mason had been difficult enough. Letting Emma in would open the possibility of another devastating loss.
Despite the care and affection he felt for her now, he refused to allow the emotion to grow stronger.
He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
“Look at me, slut.”
Her head snapped up, eyes wide. He forced a smile.
“So, you ready to try the anal hook?”
Whatever emotions she’d been dealing with washed away like sand in a flash flood of lust. She nodded emphatically. “Yes, Sir.”
“Even after the figging? Think your little asshole is up to it?”
She winced but nodded gamely. “I am, I promise.”
“All right, stand up and head for the bench.”
Her full breasts swayed as she stood and walked. He shared a grin with Mason. Their little sub was beautifully made.
He grabbed the lube and the small hook from the sideboard. Emma stood docilely beside the bench, awaiting his orders.
His heart and cock both swelled at the position.
Griff stroked her shoulder, absorbed the satin feel of her skin. He took in her warmth and the essence that made up Emma. “Knees up on the bench, little one, and lay on your stomach. Put your head over the edge so Mason can easily reach your mouth.”
She hesitated, eyes glued on the hook. “It looks like a ball hitch on trucks. Can I touch it first?”
He handed it over. She hefted the weighted piece a couple of times and ran her long, elegant fingers over the shaft and hook in a way that aroused him. Mason cleared his throat, and Griff winked at him. He’d had the same reaction.
Her eyes were bright with excited lust as she handed the hook back. “Uh, exactly how is this going to work?” She scrambled onto the bench, fitted her knees to the long, cushioned pieces, and carefully laid her torso on top.
Griff set the hook in front of her, a visual reminder of what was about to come, then started massaging her butt cheeks and thighs. He stroked and pulled along her supple muscles. Emma relaxed under his ministrations. “Just like with the plug, I’m going to get your asshole open and prepped.
Then I’ll lube and slide the ball end of the hook through your ring and into your ass.”
She shivered.
He picked up the lube and dribbled a little bit along two fingers then down the furrow of her ass.
“While he gets the hook in, you’ll be sucking my cock,” Mason said. He stood at her head, hard dick in hand, stroking her cheek with the purple head. “Hell, I might not even wait until he gets it in you. What do you say, little slut? Want my cock now?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said.
He grunted and eased his hips forward. “Open up. Mm, yeah, suckle the head a little bit.”
While Emma serviced Mason, Griff rubbed the oil along her hole, dipped inside, and caught her muffled squeal and hiss of pleasure.
He slid his fingers in and out slowly, then picked up more speed as she loosened up. On each outstroke, he spread them into a V, further opening her tiny ass. He wanted this to be pleasurable, not painful. “While the hook is in you, I’ll attach this small jess to it so Mason can tug on it while I flog you.”
Her ass rolled and bucked, and her pussy lips glistened with juice.
Griff thrust two fingers of his other hand into her pussy and pumped hard several times, earning him another deep growl of lust.
He pulled them out and wiped her sweet juices on her back. “Mason, hand me the hook.”
Mason leaned over, the action shoving more of his cock down her throat. She gagged loudly but didn’t protest or move her arms to push him away.
Griff took the hook, applied a thin sheen of lube, and set the two-centimeter ball against her rosebud.
Mason’s hips pumped slower, and Emma tensed. Griff slapped her ass, hoping the sting would allow her muscle ring to relax. He pressed harder, shifting the ball upward at a different angle.
There was an audible pop as the sphere breached her sphincter. Both he and Mason froze, watching Emma.
She writhed and squirmed on the bench but her mouth never quit working the head of Mason’s cock.
“She’s good,” Mason said, voice strained and heavy with desire.
Griff cupped her butt and squeezed her cheeks around the gleaming silver piece still sticking out. She groaned and pushed back against him. He chuckled then attached a piece of rope to the hole at the end of the hook and handed it to Mason.
“Keep her in line with this.”
He squatted beside her head and brushed a strand of sweat-soaked hair from her eyes. “Such a good little slut, aren’t you? Pinned once more to the bench and two holes filled.”
Her answer was an unintelligible muffle of sound.
Griff patted her bulging cheek, dipped one finger along the saliva-slickened shaft of Mason’s cock, and rose.
He picked up the polyester flogger because he figured she’d prefer the solid thud and snap instead of the sharper, more painful horsehair flogger. After the punishment, she deserved a little something softer and more sensual.
Something designed to get all of them off.
Griff watched Mason’s length slide in and out of her mouth, studied the utter pleasure on her face. She looked like she was in a lustful heaven.
He unfurled and snapped the flogger. She jumped, eyes flying open, and she peeked at him.
Twirling the tails as he moved behind her, he brushed them along her calves and soles of her feet. She twitched, her toes curling against the soft brush of leather.
Mason had said their little slut was ticklish. Definitely something he wanted to investigate further later.
He trailed the flogger up her thighs, lightly swatting at her dripping pussy, then laying the whip down harder on her gyrating ass and hips.
Mason tugged on the hook, and her butt billowed up and forward. Her mouth popped off his cock, and she stared back at the hook in surprise.
“Get your mouth back here, slut,” Mason demanded and pulled again.
Griff emphasized the order with the whip, laying into her sleek, pale back. Her groan grew muffled as she swallowed Mason’s hard dick once more.
Swirling the flogger, Griff laid stripe after stripe along her luscious body from toes to shoulders and everywhere in between. Mason grunted and gripped her head as the passion between them grew, the connection soaring and binding them tightly together.
Mason tugged on the rope holding the hook inside her ass, and she jerked again, hips twisting up and down as if silently begging for more.
The room was filled with soft gasps, the liquid sighs of her mouth on Mason’s cock, and the thudding slap of leather against her supple flesh. Sweat dripped from Griff’s shoulders, raining down rivulets along his corded chest and down to his rock-hard dick.
He tossed the flogger aside and planted himself behind her writhing body. Gripping his shaft, he widened her thighs on the bench and slid the hot head along her equally burning slit. The slurping silenced, and her muscles tensed beneath his hand.
Griff drew a finger along her dripping cunt, dipped between the juice-slicked lips, and found her clit. It was hard, hot, and as engorged as his own erection.
With a featherlight touch, he rubbed small circles along the very tip of her clit. She inhaled, froze, then thrust back and down on his hand even as she began to suck Mason again.
Griff continued the torment, touching her just enough to frustrate, to get her close to the edge of orgasm but never quite there.
With his other hand, he spread her cheeks, staring at the sleek chrome handle of the hook embedded in her ass.
His cock jerked in reaction.
Griff spread her pussy lips apart, fitted the head of his dick to her sweet hole, and pressed inward.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned. “You are one tight slut.”
Her sweet juices slicked his way, but he gritted his teeth against the ripple of her inner flesh. Her pussy wrapped around him like a supercharged mouth, suckling and wet. It took all his control not to flood her with cum.
She clamped down even harder, and he gasped, then slapped her ass. “I’m in charge here, slut.”
Her muscles contracted once more before releasing him. A noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle escaped her, but with the moans coming from Mason, it was difficult to tell.
Griff gripped her hips and slid as far into her body as he could. The hardness of the hook nudged the top of his dick, further stimulating him.
Mason, panting and sweating, looked on the verge of coming. Griff caught his attention and motioned to the hook. “Fuck her mouth with your dick and get the hook sawing in and out of her ass while I take her sweet pussy. Let’s see if we can’t overload our slut.”
The words started a firestorm in her that blasted Griff from the tip of his cock to the top of his head. He shuddered at the intensity of her emotion, her lust.
Mason, jaw pulsing and face sheened with sweat, leaned forward and pumped his hips into her face as he gripped and pulled on the hook.
Griff held onto the back end, sliding the metal into her ass as Mason tugged it loose.
He churned his hips, sliding in and out of her grasping pussy, feeding off her desire. “Yeah, like being filled in all your holes, don’t you? Just like a good slut would. Ah fuck, yeah, take my cock, bitch.”
She squeezed him like a boa constrictor, her muscles milking him tightly. Griff pummeled her, his hips a blur as he fucked her hard.
In his mind, he heard her wail of pleasure begin, low and guttural. He closed his eyes, dropped the hook, and cupped her hips, seeking a better purchase.
“Take my cock, slut, take it. Gonna come in you.” He punctuated his words with thrusts. “Gonna flood your cunt with my hot cum.”
The room flared brightly, the wail threatened to shatter his ear drums, and Mason threw back his head and howled. Emma’s body clamped down so hard on his dick, Griff found himself unable to move.
Within seconds, he, too, was pumping his load into her sweet flesh.
She writhed and convulsed between them, steadied only by Griff’s hands at her waist and Mason’s palms cl
asping her head.
At last she relaxed and released him. Mason gasped and staggered backward, nearly falling over before dropping to his knees.
Legs weak and shaky, Griff folded his body along her back, sucking in air as deep and fast as he could.
Beneath him, she trembled and whimpered, tiny moans of need.
Slightly dazed, Griff worked his hand between her legs, found her clit, and stroked.
“Oh, yes, Sir, yes,” she whispered. Her hands fisted, and she bucked against him. “Make me come again, Sir, please. I want to come on your hand.”
A surge of strength helped Griff gain his feet. He speared three fingers into her tight hole and continued to flick along her clit.
“Come for me, slut. Come hard.”
She did with the same keening wail he’d heard earlier. She bucked and swayed and jerked on the bench, face pressed into the cushion.
Mason struggled to his feet and stroked her hair, murmuring soft words of praise and permission.
Griff slipped his fingers from her drenched pussy and patted her ass, then eased the hook out of her. She groaned and started all over again.
Her orgasm lasted for what seemed like minutes, and every time he thought she was done, another ripple would seize her and another pang of emotion-wrapped lust would zing through him.
Griff bounced his gaze between the luscious prone woman in front of him and the sweat-drenched man at her head, wondering where the emotions were coming from.
But did it really matter?
“Clean her up,” he ordered Mason with a rasp.
He spun and stalked toward the door, the need to flee overpowering.
“Where you going?” Mason demanded.
“Do as you’re told,” Griff snapped, then flung open the door and bolted as if demons chased him.
His personal demons.
He made it as far as the living room before Mason stopped him. A bedraggled Emma was close at his heels.
“When are you going to stop running, Griff?” Mason challenged.
He stood with his arms akimbo and a mulish expression on his face. Emma looked just as determined. She nodded sharply as if silently echoing the question.
“I’m not running,” he said. “I’m getting a damn drink.”
Enlightened [Sexual Magic 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 19
