“Just think about it,” he whispered, and kissed me on the mouth.
I was too stunned to react at first, but then his free hand snaked its way up my shirt and brushed across my breast, and his tongue was halfway down my throat, and I squealed and pushed him away. “What the fuck, Cory?”
He backed away, head hanging. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I guess I figured it couldn't get any worse.” He turned and trudged back toward the living room.
I made a beeline for the front door, jumped in my car, and peeled away. I’d have to explain this to Jen somehow, but I couldn't face her now.
* * *
Wednesday, November 11, 2015, 9:47 a.m.
Day 5
Three days without coffee had felt like a lifetime, and when I’d finally survived an oral training session with the Teacher, he’d promised me coffee in the morning.
Sweet nectar of the gods.
But then Deep Voice had taken me into the Training Room after breakfast, though Glasses had been the one to retrieve me from my room. Of all my potential masters, Deep Voice was both the one I felt safest with and also the most intimidated by. I hadn’t worked with him one-on-one yet, though the other five had taken their turns, and Deep Voice seemed to be the one in charge even of the other men. I wasn’t sure if there was some kind of hierarchy, but they all deferred to him.
He’d started out by having me give him a blow job to completion and praised me highly when I didn’t hesitate. I still couldn't take a penis down my throat like they wanted me to, but he assured me that by the end of the week, I would be able to. I didn’t even flinch back when he came in my mouth, which was a first. He’d kissed me tenderly and told me how proud he was.
And then he said today would be the culmination of my anal training. He hadn’t elaborated, but I assumed that meant I was finally going to experience anal sex. A small part of me was actually excited. The rest was just plain scared.
He’d strapped me to the Horse in the Training Room and inserted the second-smallest butt plug. That didn’t even hurt anymore. But then he’d slipped a small vibrator into my vagina, turned it on very low, and left the room.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I was shiny with sweat, breathing hard, clenching against the butt plug and trying to grind my clit into the padded surface of the Horse, desperate for stronger stimulation. I finally cried out in frustration, wishing to either end the constant, low-level arousal or be helped along somehow. I heard the Training Room door open, then close.
“You’re ready, Pet,” Deep Voice said.
Ready for what? I shifted, bucked my hips, whimpered.
He removed the vibrator and the butt plug, leaving a sudden void. I lifted my head, trying to listen for him, get some clue as to what he was about to do. He wedged something between me and the Horse so that it just touched my clit, then stood behind me with his hands on my butt cheeks. “Deep breath, Pet,” he said, and something warm, and round, and hard pressed against my anus. The previous evening, the Punisher had used the fourth butt plug, which he’d said was the largest they used for training—though apparently there were larger ones still used mostly for punishment—and the pain had been minimal. But where the butt plugs started at a point and tapered outward, a penis would be about the same width for its entire length.
In theory, Deep Voice’s cock should be no worse than the butt plug.
He moved in slowly, stopping just beyond the first ring of muscle to gauge my reaction. I couldn't even gauge my reaction. It felt nothing like I’d expected. The stretching and friction as he breached the hole was similar to the butt plugs, but his cock was warm flesh, not cold silicone or glass. The pressure on my pelvic floor didn’t cease, the fleeting, stabbing pain stopped, then started again when he pushed forward. He groaned, and his fingers dug into my buttocks. “Good, Pet,” he murmured. He was still for a moment, and I arched my back as much as my bonds would allow.
He withdrew partway, then thrust, the movement activating nerves in my ass I didn’t know were there. I moaned, and my eyes rolled back in my head, the sensation pleasurable but wholly different from both a butt plug and regular vaginal sex. He pulled back, then thrust in again, and I had to force myself not to resist. Instead of sucking in, which was what my instincts wanted me to do, I pushed out just a little as he backed up, then tried to maintain the opening as he plunged forward again. The pressure all the way around, but especially down toward my pussy, combined with the friction as he moved back and forth, revived the arousal he’d primed with the vibrator and plug.
I shut my eyes and moaned, pure, primal pleasure radiating up my spine. I knew I liked anal stimulation, but this was beyond “like.” Deep Voice was inside me, connected to me, giving me something I didn’t know I needed but couldn't believe I’d been living without all this time.
And then whatever he’d shoved under me began to vibrate against my clit.
I couldn't hold back the scream that erupted from my chest. I sucked air in, then screamed again, crying out in ecstasy and fear. Every stroke of Deep Voice’s cock sent another jolt of electricity through my pelvis, until there was nothing in my world beyond that single point between my legs and the only thing I wanted was more.
Deep Voice thrust faster, though not harder. Sweat trickled down my sides, my pussy dripped wet, my screams became high-pitched gasps, and suddenly I convulsed, fighting my restraints, shuddering waves passing through my abdomen, my thighs, my pussy contracting around nothing, and my next cry was one of relief, release.
Joy.
The terror I was used to, the sense of not-quite-getting-there never happened.
I’d gotten there.
Wherever “there” was.
“Holy fuck,” I groaned. “Holy fuck.” I shivered, trembled, breathing hard, lightheaded.
Deep Voice’s fingers suddenly tightened around my ass, and I felt his cock twitching as he came. He shut off the vibrations and allowed his cock to slip out of me slowly.
He squatted beside my head and brushed my hair back from my face. I stared at him, not quite sure what was happening. “You came, Pet,” he said, very quietly. He smiled.
None of my muscles would do what I wanted, not even the ones in my face. I wanted to smile back, but I wasn’t sure if I succeeded. He kissed me on the cheek and began unfastening the straps holding me in place.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Pet,” he said, and then he was gone.
Was I supposed to lie here and wait for him? Why had he untied me but not told me to get up?
I recovered incrementally from what was apparently my first-ever orgasm, and as I did I became aware of soreness in my thighs from being restrained in this position for so long. My shoulders ached, and my sweat began to dry on me, itching. Wherever my skin touched the leather padding, the moisture irritated me. I wished for nothing more than to take a long, hot shower.
I had to stretch my legs, dry off a little. I was fairly certain there weren’t any cameras in here. If I got up long enough to relieve some discomfort and was back on the Horse before Deep Voice returned, surely he’d never know.
And if he found out? If I was too slow? You do nothing you are not told to do. They’d been literally beating that lesson into me.
I scratched my side, tried to straighten one leg, then the other.
“Fuck it,” I said, and scooted backward off the Horse. He’d never know. I’d just walk around for a moment, then climb back up.
I made a slow circuit of the room, and as I approached the door, I heard Deep Voice speaking in the hall. I tensed, ready to dash back to the Horse, but then I heard a reply. I wasn’t sure who it was. Curious, I pressed my ear to the door.
“I’m beginning to think you’ve decided to put our rules second to your own desires,” Deep Voice said.
“No, of course not!” the other man exclaimed. “It’s just… her.”
“This is not a good place to have this conversation. We can speak later.”
“B
ut she came? You made her come? That was supposed to be my job.”
“Then you should have done it! You refused to go near her. If you want to take your turn this afternoon, you may, but I feel that I may need to call a conference. If what I suspect is true, you have no right to be part of this vetting.” I could tell Deep Voice was moving closer to the door, and I panicked, preparing to launch myself across the room. But the other man spoke again.
“You can’t kick me out!”
“You know the rules. Either you want her, or you want her. You can’t have it both ways. She’s locked in right now. When she’s free, do what you want, but until then, you need to be clear with all of us about your intentions. You can leave gracefully now.”
“James is going to take her, isn’t he?” It was Glasses, I realized. Something in his inflection triggered recognition. But who was James?
“He’s expressed strong interest, as did Roberto.” A pause. “What’s it going to be, Michael?”
No response. Michael. A name for the face. I wished I knew which two were James and Roberto. I could guess. Roberto had to be Lustful Guy. He wanted me? I suspected as much. Which meant James was probably Blue Eyes, since he seemed more interested in me than the others. But I could be wrong. It would be dangerous for me to let on that I knew any of this, even their first names. They’d been very careful not to use their names in front of me. Which meant Deep Voice surely didn’t know I could hear him. I waited, hoping to hear what Glasses—Michael—would say, while at the same time trying to understand what exactly was going on.
“I’ll take my turn this afternoon,” Glasses said, finally.
If I’d been less distracted, I would have heard the click of the doorknob as Deep Voice turned it, but I was too busy replaying what I’d heard in my head, trying to make heads or tails of it. I jumped back as the door swung open, then froze as both Glasses and Deep Voice locked their eyes on me. Shit.
“You were not told to move, Pet,” Deep Voice said. He studied me, then glanced at Glasses, noted my gaze flick toward Glasses as well. “You were eavesdropping,” he said.
I couldn't possibly lie my way out of this. Could I? “No, Sir. This Pet—this Pet just wanted to stretch her legs,” I said. That didn’t even convince me. “This Pet is sorry. She wasn’t sure if she was allowed to get up.”
“You know better, Pet. How much did you hear?”
How could I possibly answer that? “This Pet—I—this—not much, Sir,” I tried.
“But you heard some.”
I looked down at my toes. “Yes, Sir.”
“This is unacceptable, Pet. You’ll be punished.”
Glasses turned on his heel and stalked away. Deep Voice watched him go, his expression unreadable, then shut the door. “Tell me what you did hear, Pet,” he said.
A bead of sweat trailed down my side, and my knees wobbled. “This Pet doesn’t understand what she heard, Sir. This Pet thinks you and Gla- the other master were talking about me—about this Pet.” I couldn't summarize what I didn’t really get, and I was afraid to reveal just how much I’d learned. “Why would you send the other master away, Sir?”
He nodded, lips pursed. “That is information you are not permitted to have, Pet. I will handle your punishment myself. The others need not know the extent of your offenses. For now.”
Why? Still, I was grateful. Until he started listing what he was going to do to me.
“For descending the Horse when not told to do so, twenty-five lashes with the flogger. You will count them. For eavesdropping, ten strikes with the cane. To help you forget what you heard, an additional ten strikes with the cane before you go to sleep tonight. And you will sleep in the cage rather than your bedroom.”
I stared at him in disbelief, nausea rising. “Please, Sir,” I whispered.
“Will you speak out of turn as well?” he asked, his tone gentle.
My lower lip quivered, and I fought to hold back tears of shame. You know better, Pet. I had known, even before I decided to get up, that I should have stayed where I was. Stupid. And if I had done what I was supposed to do, I wouldn't have overheard them talking, either. Double stupid.
“Go to the Cross, Pet,” he said, after waiting a moment to ensure I would stay silent.
I hesitated only a split second, then resolutely marched myself to the large X in the middle of the room. I’d brought this on myself, and I would accept punishment. But I wasn’t sure I could stand it. Deep Voice secured me at the wrists and ankles, facing in toward the Cross. I slumped in my bonds, dangling painfully from my wrists, terrified.
“Keep count,” he reminded me, and the first lash landed on my left hip. I locked my knees, stood as straight as I could, and coughed out a “One!” The second struck my right buttock. I jerked, shouted out, “Two!” He continued at the same measured pace, the pain building, and my fear of what was to come growing along with it.
I missed number 11.
And number 19.
And, sobbing incoherently, numbers 24 and 25. Deep Voice simply repeated them dispassionately, and when it was finally over, he kissed my cheek. “You’re a good pet,” he said.
They all said that. But would a good pet have done something so obviously wrong? I hung my head and tried to calm my tears. My butt burned and stung. I thought frantically of ways I might get him to reconsider the rest of the punishment, but I wasn’t allowed to talk, so I couldn't beg, or make promises or excuses.
Deep Voice released me from the Cross, and I dropped to my knees, gazing up at him, trying to look pitiful. I certainly felt pitiful.
“Go back to the Horse, get yourself into position, and wait there,” he said, and left the room. Where was he going?
I complied immediately, as though I could erase my stupid, stupid decision by returning to where I should have stayed in the first place. It wasn’t long before I heard the door.
“Hello, Pet.” That wasn’t Deep Voice. It was Glasses. “I know you didn’t understand what you overheard, but you must try to forget about it,” he said. He worked his way around the Horse, securing me with the straps. “I’ve been tasked with the next part of your punishment.” He put his hand on my lower back. When he didn’t move through several slow breaths, I suddenly understood Deep Voice’s words. “Either you want her, or you want her,” he’d said.
Glasses didn’t want me as a slave. He just wanted me. And that was against their rules, for some reason. It hadn’t occurred to me that they might have rules, too, though thinking of the master and slave who had visited earlier in the week, it did make sense. His right to keep her was threatened by her disobedience, and Glasses’ right to participate in the vetting was threatened by his feelings for me.
He wanted me? I’d barely spoken three words in his presence. How could he have any kind of feelings about me at all? Their interactions with me were almost purely sexual!
I tried to twist my head around, catch a glimpse of him, see what he was doing.
“Be still, Pet,” he said absently, as though his thoughts were somewhere else. He cleared his throat. “For eavesdropping, the first set of ten strikes with the cane.”
The first realization spurred a second, as Glasses went to get a cane from the cabinet. Deep Voice was making Glasses do this to prove he was going to follow their rules. He returned to me, crouched beside my head. “Deep breaths, Pet,” he reminded me. I heard the door open and close and wondered if Deep Voice had come to supervise. Glasses rose and moved out of my line of sight.
The first strike left a line of fire across my ass and drew out a shriek that ended in my coughing and gasping for breath. It hurt exactly as much as I remembered from when Lustful Guy had punished me. They hadn’t said I had to count, had they? But, no, a second strike followed on the heels of the first, landing parallel to the first throbbing line. “Ow!” I cried, the word ripped from my throat.
Ten of these?!
“I can’t!” I howled as the third connected. The three stripes pulsed in unison. Then
a fourth. He was hitting me hard. Very hard. “Please! Please, Sir!” I screamed.
The pause was longer this time, but then number five created a vertical line that crossed the four he’d already made. He caught me on an exhale, and I couldn't take another breath before the sixth continued the cross-hatch pattern he was apparently marking me with. “Oh, God, stop! Please stop! Please!” I begged. I was shaking now, lightheaded, sure I would pass out. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Seven, then eight. And then, to my shock, he delivered the ninth to the sole of my left foot and the tenth to my right foot, directly on the instep. It didn’t seem possible, but that was even more painful than the strikes to my ass. Why? Why had he done that? My toes curled, my whole body tensed, the searing pain coursing through me as I fought to catch my breath. Another didn’t fall, and I realized it was over. If anything, my crying intensified as the relief crashed over me, great hiccupping, heaving sobs.
“Satisfied?” Glasses demanded, obviously not to me, then threw the cane to the floor.
“Excellent marks,” Deep Voice replied, running his fingers lightly over my ass. Oh, the sting! “These will bruise, I think. Your ten tonight will be difficult, Pet.”
So they did still plan to do that. Anything more than whimpering was beyond me at the moment. Glasses stroked my hair.
“You’ll go up to your room now, Pet, for your midday tasks. Tomorrow you will be tested on all thirty poses, so we highly recommend you practice them several times,” Deep Voice said.
Glasses released me from the restraints and helped me stand. I swayed, exhausted, and clutched Glasses’ forearms for support. He kissed me on the forehead. I wondered if I’d be with him this evening after all.
* * *
Friday, August 14, 2015, 11:30 p.m.
Three months ago
Gabe took my rejection gracefully. In some ways, three dates was plenty, and in others, it wasn’t nearly enough. The fact that he was happy to make plans for next week meant he might indeed be a keeper. Then again, it might just mean he wanted to make another attempt at getting me in bed.
The House Book One: Pet Lucy Page 12
