by Zara Chase
The three guys shared high clenched fists, just as a naked Porcha walked into the kitchen.
“What are you celebrating?” she asked.
All three of them ran their eyes down the length of her body and grinned.
“We’re celebrating having you, darlin’,” Troy told her, pulling out a chair for her at the kitchen table.
“You have the most amazing tits,” Beck told her, sitting across from her and ogling them shamelessly. “I could look at them all day.”
“You have been,” Adam reminded him.
“Just sayin’.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Adam grinned. “And if we get tired of looking at the tits, there’s always those legs and that cute butt to offer us a different view.”
“There’s something about having a beautiful, naked woman sitting at the table that gives me an appetite.” Troy took a healthy bite of his tuna-and-mayo sandwich to prove his point.
“Eat up, Porcha.” Adam held a sandwich to her lips. “You need to keep your strength up. Troy’s got plans for us all tonight that will require stamina.”
“Oh no, I’m so sorry!”
“What is it, sweetheart?” they all asked together.
“You got me excited, and I just leaked all over the chair.”
The three men roared with laughter.
“Doesn’t take much to excite you, does it?” Adam remarked.
“If you think that your three cocks aren’t much, then I guess I’d have to agree.”
“Well, Adam’s might not be much to write home about,” Beck said, grinning, “but I’m packing a huge woody right this very moment.”
“Keep it in your pants,” Troy told him curtly. “Our little sub needs to get some rest this afternoon so she can service us all later.”
“I can wait,” Beck said, fingering his prick through his shorts. “I can wait ’cause I know it’ll be worth waiting for.”
As soon as lunch was cleared away, Troy took them all into the study and told them he’d decided to go ahead with the e-mail to Georgio.
“The way I see it,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “is that Sal went to Mexico with Woollard and we don’t know who else and got knocked off. Whether or not Woollard’s still alive is uncertain. Whether he was involved in setting his boss up is another unknown. Porcha saw her home overrun with gunmen who might have been looking for her or something she possesses. Either way, someone’s out to get her, and I don’t intend to sit back and wait for that someone to come to us.”
“Glad to hear it,” Beck said.
Adam nodded. “Me, too.”
“If Woollard’s alive then he’s either a hero or the villain of the piece.” Troy paused. “The limited information we have points to the latter.”
“I agree,” Beck said.
“But we don’t even know if Woollard got out of Mexico alive,” Adam pointed out. “We’re just assuming he’s behind all this.”
“More an educated guess,” Troy said. “I never make assumptions.”
“I could ring the house and ask for him,” Porcha said. “And then hang up if they said they were going to get him.”
“No, I’d rather you didn’t. They’d recognize your voice. One of us could make the call, but I already rang the guardroom without a valid reason. I suspect that both the house and guardroom numbers aren’t in general circulation.” Porcha nodded. “Well then, if Woollard is alive he’ll have been told about the bogus call to the guardhouse. If you call the house as well, it’ll alert him that we’re up to something.”
“I suppose.”
“I think we should call anyway,” Adam said. “It’s ridiculous setting up a campaign against a man when we don’t even know if he’s in the country.”
Troy grimaced. “Yeah, you’re right. What’s the house number, babe?”
She told him. Troy picked up the secure line, dialed the number, and asked for Woollard when it was answered.
“A friend of Mrs. Gonzalez’s,” he said, presumably when asked who was calling.
Troy hung up. “They were going to get him,” he said.
“Well,” Beck said cheerfully. “At least we know now who we’re up against.”
“What we know,” Troy said, “is that Woollard went to Mexico with his boss. That boss got whacked, but Woollard came back, presumably unscathed, and took over Sal’s operation.”
“Looks that way,” Adam and Beck said together.
“I spoke to Georgio whilst Adam and Porcha were playing earlier, and he knows what we’re doing.” Troy clicked a few keys and a laptop screen sprang into life. “This is what I think Porcha should say in her initial contact.”
They all peered at the screen, nodding their approval.
“I’ve said that she’ll be meeting her contact at that particular mall because it’s small, out of the way, and easy for the three of us to cover if we get there far enough in advance. It doesn’t get a lot of traffic, so if things get nasty, the likelihood of any passersby getting caught in the cross fire is remote.”
“Will our reputations ever recover?” Beck asked, acting the fool as usual. “You’re encouraging this gorgeous creature to pretend that she’s immune to our charms. Once her words are committed to cyberspace, there’s no pulling ’em back.”
“You don’t have any charm,” Adam pointed out.
“Don’t need it with what I’ve got here,” he responded, grabbing his groin.
“Shut it, you two.” Troy waved a hand at them. “What do you think, Porcha? Still wanna do this?”
“Absolutely!”
“Okay, turn your iPad on. This will need to go from your account, obviously.”
Once she’d logged on, Troy quickly transferred the message to an e-mail from her address and pressed send.
“Now then, we’re going to teach you a few more things about taking care of yourself that you might not already know,” Troy told her.
“We always plan for the best but prepare for the worst,” Adam added.
“If we’ve missed something vital and you get taken and held,” Beck said, “there’s almost always some way out, or something to help you defend yourself, if you know what you’re looking for.”
For the next hour they drilled stuff into her head. Porcha was a quick study and seldom needed to be told anything twice.
“Of course,” Troy said. “The easiest way out of any locked room is simply to pick the lock. Ever tried it?”
“No. They make it look easy on films, just running a credit card along the slot and it magically opens.”
“Can’t rely on having a credit card on hand, but these little babies are easy to conceal.” Troy flashed a lockpick beneath her nose.
“So are these.” Adam waved another tiny gadget at her. “Small but ever so tough.”
“You could slip both inside your bra and no one would ever notice,” Beck said, grinning. “What’s a little extra weight when you’re already packing so much?”
“We’re serious about this, Porcha,” Troy said. “Come on, I’ll give you a beginner’s course in lock picking.”
Half an hour later she had it down pat and was able to open a lock blindfolded.
“Not quite the situation I had in mind for a blindfold,” Beck said, “but I guess it’s a start.”
“Okay, that should do it.”
A screen flashed to tell Troy that he had an e-mail.
“It’s from Georgio,” he said, clicking on it. “I asked him to see what he could find out about Woollard.”
Troy read quickly. “Ben Woollard is twenty-eight and has been Sal’s right-hand man for eight years, completely loyal, hard as nails, blah, blah. That jibes with what you told us, Porcha.”
“Present whereabouts unknown,” Beck read over Troy’s shoulder. “Fat lot of fucking good that is.”
Troy clicked on the attachment and a picture of a fit-looking guy with close-cropped blond hair filled the screen. “That him?”
“Yes.” Porcha
shuddered. “That’s the creep.”
“Well, at least we know now who we’re looking for,” Adam said. “Presumably, he’ll turn up in person.”
“Time will tell,” Troy said grimly. “Porcha, go and get some rest. We’ve got stuff to do, and then Adam’s gonna cook us a feast to prepare us for the games to come.” Troy placed an arm round her bare shoulders and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll come and wake you in a couple of hours with the clothes we want you to wear at dinner.”
She dropped her eyes when he made it obvious that his mind was no longer on the battle with Woollard but games of a very different nature. She looked indescribably endearing as she submitted to him so instinctively. Troy somehow resisted the urge to bend her over his desk and fuck…No, not fuck. He was amazed to discover that his feelings were tender. He wanted to make love to her—give her every possible pleasure, mindless of his own needs—right here amongst his precious computer screens, for the rest of the afternoon. Troy never made love. He fucked, pure and simple. What the hell was she doing to him? To them all?
“Yes, masters,” she said, turning on her heel and heading for the stairs.
All three of them watched her cute ass until it disappeared from view.
“Geez, she’s killing us,” Beck said for them all, running his hand through his hair and expelling a long sigh of frustration.
* * * *
Troy surfed through a dozen incoming e-mails, turning down two potential jobs without referring them to the others. Whilst they worked for Georgio a lot of the time, they also freelanced, picking and choosing their assignments because they were the best, much in demand, but didn’t need the money.
“Christ, a spoiled rich kid needs protecting.” He turned up his nose and deleted the proposed assignment without bothering to respond. “What the hell do these people think we are? Fucking nursemaids?”
Adam was taking his turn in the gym, and Beck was sprawled on a couch, reading a political biography. Anyone who didn’t know him well tended to think he was an airhead, which was precisely what he wanted them to think. But Beck was at least as smart as the rest of them. He certainly pulled his weight in the crew, even if he was sometimes a bit of a hothead.
Troy smiled as he thought of the tussles he’d had with him and Adam in the early days when they were all raw conscripts in the same unit, vying for supremacy. Even then, Troy realized now, there’d been a degree of inevitability about their future—almost like they’d been thrown together for a reason. They were from different backgrounds, different cultures even, but they gelled for all that, complementing one another’s strengths and protecting one another’s backs in tight situations without the need to be asked. That had never changed over the years, nor would it.
But a permanent woman in their organized existence? Would it work? Troy flexed his jaw. Hell, the way he felt right now it would damned well have to, because he had no intention of letting Porcha get away from him.
The time passed quickly, and when Adam reappeared to start prepping his gourmet meal, Troy went to wake Porcha.
Beck wagged a finger at him as he left the lounge. “No sneaking a quickie.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Troy grinned. “Half the fun is making her wait until she begs for it.”
Beck returned his grin. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Troy let himself into Porcha’s room without knocking.
She appeared to be sound asleep, but Troy wasn’t taking any chances. He had no intention of sitting on the bed and being coerced into it by the sexy little witch who didn’t seem to be able to get enough of any of them.
“Wake up, Porcha,” he said authoritatively.
She sat up immediately, confirming that she’d been awake all the time. The cover slipped from her tits, and he was hard-pressed to contain a groan. His cock was rigid. Nothing new there. He’d been in a permanent state of arousal ever since he’d met her.
“Get up.”
She threw back the covers and stood naked in front of him.
“Put this on.”
He handed her the garment he wanted her to wear but didn’t help her with it. Without hesitating, she stepped into the tight black PVC dress with thin shoulder straps and a hemline that barely cleared her ass.
“Christ!”
She looked spectacular. The top was too tight for her tits, and they spilled out of the cups. There were lace panels down the front, back, and sides of the dress, and it was so short that the cheeks of her ass were apparent every time she moved.
“Something wrong, master?” she asked, a little too innocently.
“Absolutely nothing.” He cleared his throat. “I have something else for you. Something that you’ll wear all the time while in this house if you’re comfortable with it.” He fastened a studded collar round her neck. “Put these on as well.”
He handed her a pair of strappy shoes with four-inch heels. She sat on the edge of the bed, slipped her feet into them, and fastened them in place.
“Take a look at yourself.”
He held out a hand to her and led her to the full-length mirror. She gasped when she saw herself, which was hardly surprising. She was the sexiest goddamned woman he’d ever seen. She even managed to make tacky PVC look classy. He wondered if she saw herself in the same light, wondered if the clothing made her feel as sexy as she looked. Her green eyes sparkled with anticipation, her tousled hair fell all over her shoulders, and her nipples pushed against the fabric of the dress, the tops of her aureoles spilling out as though they couldn’t stand being covered up. They didn’t need to worry. It wouldn’t be for long.
“What do you think?” he asked, grasping her shoulders from behind.
“What I think doesn’t matter. I want you to be pleased with me, master.”
Troy chuckled. “I think I can promise you that all three of us will be pleased to have you at our table tonight. In fact,” he added, dropping his head and nuzzling her ear, “you might well finish up being the main course.” He led her away from the mirror. “Lean over the bed and stick your ass in the air. I have something else for you.”
She did as he asked, and Troy applied a generous dollop of lube to the crack in her ass, working it into her anus with one finger. As soon as she was slick, he inserted a butt plug, pushing it all the way home, helped by Porcha, who pushed against it and sighed when she’d taken it all.
“Stand up and squeeze your ass cheeks together.” He could see that she did as he asked. “It’s full of oil that will heat up inside you and drive you wild. It’ll also dilate you enough for what we plan to do to you later.”
Porcha licked her lips and smiled but, well-trained sub that she was, asked no questions.
“That dress.” He shook his head. “I was gonna save these for later, but they seem kinda appropriate.” He delved into his bag and produced clover nipple clamps attached to one another by a chain. “Come here.”
She stepped up to him, and Troy pushed the flimsy fabric away from first one nipple and then the other, attaching the clamps to the accompaniment of soft sighs from Porcha. He pulled the fabric back in place when he was done, knowing it would rub against her hardened, sensitized nipples and really turn her on.
“Like that?”
“Hmm, it’s heavenly.”
“It’s gonna get a bit rough tonight, Porcha, but you do know you can call a halt any time you like?” He reached out to touch her and abruptly pulled his hand back again. If he touched her just once he’d end up shagging her. That’s how desperate she made him, especially the way she looked right now in her tarty clothing, her nipples clamped, his plug up her ass, their collar round her neck…Fuck it, he wanted her so much he could barely think straight.
“Don’t bail on me, Troy. I love all this stuff. I love the way the three of you look at me. How your cocks stand to attention whenever I’m around.” She smiled. “I’m submitting to you, but when I see what I do to you, I feel as though I’m the one in control.”
; How right she is! “Just so long as you’re completely sure.”
“Absolutely, completely sure.”
Troy wrapped her in his arms and kissed her with tenderness. “I’m so glad,” he said, smiling into her eyes when he finally released her.
“Okay, I’m going downstairs now. Wait until I call and then walk down slowly. I want the others to get a real eyeful.”
“Yes, master.”
Chapter Eleven
Porcha ran a brush through her tangled mane of hair whilst she waited to be summoned, her lips burning from the searing passion of Troy’s kiss. She was so excited about the night to come that her fingers could barely grip the brush. She glanced at her reflection and almost didn’t recognize herself. The flushed face, the gleam of anticipation in her eye, the sexy clothing, the nipple clamps, the plug heating in her butt—she was so damned turned-on that she was tempted to do something about it then and there.
“Get a grip!” she said aloud. “They’ll know, and it won’t please them.”
And Porcha definitely wanted to please her three masters. Their games were a hundred times removed from the humiliations she’d suffered at Sal’s hands. He wanted to possess her, to own her, to make her grovel before him in public because he had some sort of twisted point to prove.
Troy, Beck, and Adam wanted to love her, to give pleasure in return for receiving it, and would never intentionally hurt her or cause her embarrassment. She hadn’t known them for long but already trusted them implicitly. They wanted to play as hard as they worked, and who was she to object when all three of them seemed so intensely focused on her? Doubts about her ability to hold their interest filtered through her brain, but she shut them out. Failure simply wasn’t an option. She could do this! She wanted to do it. No one controlled her head anymore, and she was free to please herself.
“It’s time, Porcha.”
Troy’s softly spoken command intruded on her introspective thoughts. Her pulse rate increased as she prepared to make her entrance, hoping her lovers would like what they saw. If they reacted true to form, she’d be confronted with three rock-hard cocks primed and ready for action. Hell, her pussy was leaking already, just at the thought of it. She dashed into the bathroom and cleaned herself up, then tossed her head back, winked at her reflection, and left the room.
