by Jenna Jacob
The sound of a whip cracking through air had me jerking in its direction. A tall, thin older woman wearing a short, red dress lowered the whip, then scraped her nails along the back of a man cuffed to a big cross. James placed a finger to his lips, and the room stilled to a low buzz of whispered conversations.
Sliding a hand to my nape, James held me still, then moved his mouth to my ear. “That’s Lady Ivory and her submissive, Dark Desires. They play hard. But don’t be alarmed. It’s consensual. Like Trevor, Dark enjoys the pain his Mistress inflicts.”
I nodded. Though I didn’t have a clue what ‘playing hard’ meant, I was grateful James had warned me. Ivory flicked her wrist, landing the end of the whip over her sub’s flesh. Savannah issued a wistful sigh. I assumed she enjoyed pain as well.
Drawing the snake-like rope of leather high over her head, Ivory jerked her wrist, the whip cracked with a loud snap. Both her submissive, Dark, and I jolted in surprise. I imagined a blow to the flesh with that much force would require stitches. With an inward shutter, I glanced at some of the other sessions playing out along the wall’s perimeter. Ian pointed out a female sub bent over a padded bench. Her Dom landed a thick bundled flogger with long, leather strands over her back and ass cheeks in an even tempo.
Feeling the weight of sensory overload, I tried to absorb the scenes being played out around the dungeon. Turning my attention back to the cross, Dark Desire sported several angry, red welts over his back and buns. Cringing, I wondered how the man could take such torture. Turning his head, Dark’s eyes were closed, but his face reflected absolute serenity. I couldn’t help but stare. Enthralled with his peaceful expression, I wanted to find a way to bask in the same profound peace mirroring his face.
Sensing movement across the table, I turned from my musing to see Nick’s and Dylan’s hands up Savannah’s skirt. Toying with her sex, they kissed her lips, neck and cheeks as she rolled her hips against their busy hands. With her head lolled back against Nick’s broad shoulder, both men whispered in her ears, and I could only imagine the deviant suggestions rolling off their tongues. Mesmerized by the wickedly hot scene taking place at our table, it felt as if I was intruding on a private moment, but like a twisted voyeur, I couldn’t look away.
The bond of trust and love between the three felt electric, and as Savannah surrendered to their dual seduction, my hormones awakened with a covetous scream. My nipples peaked, and my breasts grew heavy. My breathing turned shallow and my pussy clutched.
Silently, Dylan rose to his feet and lifted Savannah into his arms. The four Doms exchanged a nod before the trio left the dungeon, disappearing down the hall of private rooms. Green with envy, I suspected Savannah would soon be wearing the same ethereal expression as Dark Desire.
I stared at the portal, fantasizing what lurid pleasures my new sub friend was enjoying before Ian placed a finger beneath my chin. Drawing me back from my own distraction, the penetrating lust that blazed in his eyes only served to intensify the ache between my legs.
“Are you ready to head back to my room, gorgeous?” James whispered as he cupped a warm hand around my shoulder.
Before I could respond to him, Ian bent in close. His sultry breath wafted over my neck.
“Think carefully before you answer, little one. Once you agree to this, nothing will ever be the same. Life, as you know it, will change. There’ll be no going back. Understood?”
“Are you trying to scare me out of doing this?” I asked softly.
“No. I’m just making sure your eyes are wide open, little one.” Ian smiled.
Sliding a gaze over the subs willingly ceding to their Dominants, I lingered at the empty cross a few feet from our table. The gleaming wood called to something deep inside me… enticing a mysterious longing that licked at my spine. I wanted to rip away the layers of flesh that were hiding the submissive inside me, and set her free.
“I’m ready,” I whispered with conviction.
James and Ian each extended a hand and helped me from the chair. Wrapped in their possessive safety and warmth, we left the dungeon. Anticipation and need thrummed through my veins like a drum. Stopping mid-way in the hall, James reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. As he turned the latch and opened the door, Ian flipped on the lights, then escorted me in as James closed and locked the door behind us.
I took in my surroundings. A huge bed stood across the room, adorned in a chocolate and cream comforter. I bit my lip spying the modern metal frame with chains and cuffs attached at all four corners. A bathroom lay to my left, and an antique dresser to my right by the door. There was some type of tall, metal frame shoved against the wall, beyond the dresser. But it was the polished wooden cross—like the one that had tempted me in the dungeon—standing in the center of the room that caused my heart to stutter. Excitement dipped low in my belly.
“We want you on the cross for us tonight, little one,” Ian announced.
Moving in close, neither kissed nor touched me. I suddenly felt isolated and alone. Desperate for a caress of reassurance, I tensed and cast a pensive gaze toward the floor.
“Such a natural little sub,” James murmured. His praise soothed, but not nearly as much as his touch would have.
I reached out for them. The anxiety soaring inside me had me yearning for the tangible connection that only their hands and bodies would calm. But when they both inched away from me, insecurities took over. I raised my head, ready to beg and plead, their Dominant stares—intimidating and assessing—flipped some inner switch within. The desire to please them and make them proud roared through me with such force, it nearly stole my breath.
“Neither James nor I have a long litany of rules we expect you to follow at the club. As long as you are respectful and polite to the guests there will be no issues. However, once we step inside this room, our expectations grow, exponentially. You will tell us everything that you want, need, and feel. Communication between the three of us is non-negotiable. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir.” I nodded.
“Good girl,” James smoothed in a low drawl that made my pulse flutter. “Now tell us what you want.”
I closed my eyes. “Your touch, Sirs.”
“Why?” James pressed.
“It comforts me, and helps me feel more centered,” I replied, hating that my needs made me feel so damn weak.
“Strip off your clothes,” James instructed.
His quiet command sped through me like lightning…tingling and hot. Yet a hollow, empty coldness followed when I realized they weren’t going to give me what I needed—what I’d bravely asked for.
With trembling fingers, I pulled my dress off over my head. Ian extended his hand and I draped the garment in his palm. My knee-jerk reaction of wanting to cover myself eased, as their stares skimmed over my half-naked body, like a caress; the physical touch I still longed for. Why weren’t they giving me what I wanted… what I needed? I’d been honest: I’d told them the truth. Maybe it was a test, a way to show me that the path of my submission would be filled with potholes, detours, and landslides. But they were still here. They hadn’t left me. I took comfort in that fact.
Pressing forward, I reached behind my back and unclasped the black demi-bra. As it began to slide from my breasts, James stepped forward and cupped the fabric in his hands. Lowering his gaze, his voice dipped as well.
“Did you wear this especially for me tonight, gorgeous?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whispered as I cast my gaze back to the floor.
“I didn’t ask you to. Tell me why you did.” James’ voice held a slight tremor, as if I’d truly touched a part of him.
“I—I wanted to see the look of approval in your eyes again.”
But I couldn’t, because I was still staring at the floor like a coward, waiting for the earth to open beneath my feet and swallow me whole. And the honesty pouring from my mouth only served to expose more of the vulnerabilities I’d worked to keep hidden my whole life.
“Look at me,�
�� James demanded in a husky voice.
Doing as instructed, I raised my head. Gazing back, James pinned me with a look of hunger, desire, and oh yes…satisfaction, just like the night before. Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, he drew my palm to his cheek, then laid his hand over mine. His poignant touch was magic. Exactly the medicine I needed, and asked for. My apprehensions melted away.
“I’m flattered that you wanted to please me, sweetheart.” His words were laced with such raw honesty. I knew I wasn’t the only one whose emotions were being stripped away.
James drew me against his unyielding chest, his bold erection pressed against my belly. A tremor rippled my lips as James slanted his against mine. His kiss, so savage and wild, instantly banished any lingering doubts inside me.
Reluctantly pulling away, he cupped the fabric of my bra, sending the straps to skim down my arms and off my fingertips. My nipples, peaking painfully, drew impossibly tighter from the cool air of the room.
“Now the thong, little one,” Ian instructed in a tone rife with urgency.
Easing the skimpy scrap off my hips and down my legs, I stepped out of the material, leaving it lying on the floor. Standing before the two men wearing nothing but a pair of black stilettos, I felt the urge to cover myself once again, and hide the imperfections of my body. Instead, I focused on the burning need to please within me and kept my arms at my sides.
A wolfish smile crawled across James’ lips. “Step up and face the cross, then raise your arms above your head.”
My legs felt like rubber as I moved in and leaned against the cold wooden surface. With a short yelp of surprise, I jerked back as goosebumps prickled my body.
Ian set a palm against my spine, guiding me flush against the frame once more. Closing my eyes, I shivered and inhaled a deep breath as my body heat warmed the wood. Were they going to use the whip and mark my flesh like Dark Desire, or would they use a flogger, or their hands on my proffered ass?
A riot of anxiety swirled. I longed for one more touch—that magical lifeline that calmed me. Turning my head, I darted a glance over my shoulder. Ian and James stood like statues; their matching poses appeared daunting. Legs spread, shoulders squared, with their hands tucked behind their backs, they stared at me, seemingly inspecting every inch of my naked body.
Turning back to face the cross, I held my breath, hoping they wouldn’t tell me to put on my clothes and take me back home. From the corner of my eye, I watched Ian stride into the bathroom, only to return a moment later with a roll of toilet paper in his hand.
My face blazed in embarrassment. I was wet… but surely I wasn’t leaving a damn puddle on the floor… was I? Mortified at the thought, I bent my head to look between my legs when James pressed his deliciously hot body against my back. Greedily drinking in the comfort of his touch, he palmed his strong hands up my arms. Gripping my wrists, he held them against the frame as his moist breath tickled my neck.
“Control can be a very complex thing. Both in giving and retaining,” James whispered in warning.
What did that mean?
Before I could decipher his riddle, James released my wrists, but remained flush against my back. Facing the opposite side of the cross, Ian stepped up wearing a mischievous smirk. Unraveling the thin tissue from its roll, he began wrapping my wrists in several layers of paper, binding me to the cross. All the while, James trailed his fingertips up and down my spine.
Watching Ian with rapt attention, I wondered why he didn’t simply cuff me to the cross, like the subs in the dungeon. Tucking the ends carefully into the space between the wood and my skin, Ian skimmed a feather-light kiss over my lips.
“Your safe word is ‘red’, little one. Oh, and by the way…if you tear the tissue, our session is over. Am I clear?”
My eyes flashed wide. Staring at the meager paper adhering me to the cross, I suddenly understood the meaning of James’ cryptic words. Giving my control to them, I still had to maintain jurisdiction over myself and not break the paper bindings.
Christ, was that even possible to do?
“Yes, Sir. I understand.”
“Good. Then let’s begin,” James announced in a business-like tone.
Gripping both cheeks of my ass with his broad hands, James nipped at my shoulders as he kneaded the flesh of my orbs beneath his fingers. I closed my eyes and drank in the sensations. Squirming, I moaned, then blinked up at the paper, relieved to find that I’d not broken free.
Ian remained facing me on the opposite side of the cross. Reaching down, he cupped my breasts, lifting and fluffing them to settle between the top of the V. Dipping his head, he engulfed a beaded nipple, sucking it deep with a brutal draw. I cried out on a wail of pleasure-mixed-pain. But before I could inhale, Ian released my ravished nipple with an audible pop and fastened his lips to the other. I arched, eager for more, he took it deep into his hot, slick mouth, dispensing the same sweet, savage attention.
Dipping a hand between my legs, James feathered his fingers over my cunt. Tapping his foot against my heels, he ordered me to spread my legs. Widening my stance, my limbs were aligned with the angles of the wood. Splayed for their pleasure…their pain.
Teasing my aching folds with his soft, fluttering touch, James rested his chin on my shoulder watching as Ian laved, sucked, and nipped my nipples, sublimely torturing me with wicked pleasures.
“Do you like what Ian and I are doing to you, sweetheart?” James asked in a raspy voice.
“Yes,” I murmured, savoring each sensation skating through me.
Clinging to the tattered fragments of my control proved trickier by the second. But somehow I’d managed to keep the thin layer of paper intact—though I feared before they were through I’d need duct tape, Thorazine, and a straightjacket to keep from tearing the tissue.
As if reinforcing that possibility, James drove two fingers deep inside my pussy as Ian ruthlessly sank his teeth into the pebbled peak of my nipple. Buffeted between the sensations they bestowed, I bucked as a mournful wail tore from my throat.
Delving deeper, James massaged the sensitive bundle hidden inside me as he strummed his thumb over my clit. Ian laved his tongue across my burning nipples, teasing with an intermittent scrape of his teeth. I writhed and whimpered beneath their beguiling demand for me to hand over my control. Straining to bridge the divide between pleasure and pain, I felt as stretched as the fragile tissue bound on my wrists.
Ian lifted his head from my breast. I instantly mourned the loss of his attention. But when he flashed a dangerous smile and began wedging his body between the frame and mine, panic pierced my bliss.
“Watch yourself, little one,” he warned. “I think we need to make this a bit more challenging for you.”
“No. No,” I cried, darting a worried glance between Ian and my wrists. “The tissue is going to tear. Please. I don’t want this to end yet.”
“Neither do we,” Ian chuckled softly. “Focus.”
Arching my ass toward James, I bowed over the frame like a hissing cat. Holding my breath, I locked my gaze to my wrists. Ian maneuvered his body into the tight space, then lowered to his knees in front of me. When Ian wrapped his hands behind my thighs, I exhaled a sigh of relief and peered down at him. Eye level with my pussy, Ian licked his lips.
“Let me help you out down here, brother,” Ian offered, looking past me to focus on James. “Does her cunt taste as good as it smells?”
“Better,” James responded with a gruff drawl.
As Ian slunk in low, I bit my lip. Parting my labia with his thumbs, he inspected my needy folds. Inching in closer, his warm breath wafted over my pussy in a cool, maddening rush. Without warning, he sank his hungry mouth over my cunt and began devouring me.
Closing my eyes, James eased his fingers from my quivering tunnel as Ian seamlessly filled me with his own. I knew I wasn’t the first woman they’d shared, and while a trace of jealousy sluiced through me, gratitude followed as well. Well adept at seducing a woman’s body, they flawl
essly sailed me toward oblivion, and for that I was greatly indebted to the women they’d shared before me.
James slid a slick finger between the cheeks of my ass. Gasping at first, I relaxed as he circled the tight, gathered ring, gradually increasing pressure. Strobes of flickering lights flashed behind my eyes as Ian dragged his flat tongue in a languid swipe from my core to my clit. Teetering on my heels, I dug my nails into the wood as pleasure swirled from my ankles to the top of my head.
“Have you ever been fucked in the ass? Stretched wide by a thick, hard cock before, sweetheart?” James taunted in a beguiling whisper.
Breaching the rim, he glided his finger in and out of my ass. The sensitive nerve endings arced with electricity and exploded outward.
“Yes, Sir. I have,” I moaned, writhing between them.
Proving they were more than skilled in the art of slaughtering with pleasure, James and Ian soared me up fast and hard. Ripples of demand pulsed, seared my mind, and detonated beneath my skin. Need notched higher as they effortlessly enticed me to the cusp of release.
Panic pierced the cacophony of rapture. “Help me,” I cried out in desperation.
“Hold it back, Liz,” James warned in staunch command. “Watching you struggle so sweetly is incredibly beautiful.”
“No,” I wailed pathetically. “I can’t. You have to stop. Please. If you don’t stop, I—I’ll… oh god. Why are you making me suffer?”
“Because we like to feel you ache and throb for us. Hear your kitten-like mewls. Feel you clutch and flutter around us,” James whispered. “It feeds our Dominance, Liz. You feed us with your precious, raw power.”
Ian speared his tongue deep inside me before grunting his agreement. The fluttering vibration lit my core like fire. His nose grazed my clit. They ebbed and flowed into me with such exacting precision, the white-hot coil throbbing inside me unfurled. The blistering tongue of release licked through my limbs and slammed up my spine. I lost my grip on the fringes of sanity…couldn’t endure their blissful agony a second longer.
