by Kitty Thomas
Lindsay rolled his eyes as if to say, it's impossible to find good help these days. “Yes, they are,” he replied, “But they came here willingly because they have their own needs. Realistically, if you want a sex slave do you want her desperate to please you because she's terrified of you or because she is aching to have your cock inside her or alternately because she needs to taste your come in the same way she needs air? Which one of these scenarios is more exciting to you? Really? Unless you're a sociopath—and the house already has one of those—you, and most men, want the latter. Now. Oral sex. You're all going to learn how to make my kitten purr.”
This whole wise sex teacher thing was really working for Lindsay. If he didn't stop talking and start touching her soon, she was going to embarrass herself.
He turned his full attention back to her. “But first... your punishment.”
The men's gazes shifted to the whipping implements on the wall. A couple of them looked practically gleeful to get to watch Shannon get whipped.
“Master, I'm sorry. Please. Mercy just this once.” She hated the idea of him doing this to her in front of these men.
Lindsay chuckled. “Oh kitten, if only I could offer mercy. But I can't. We're out of mercy. You used your sole get-out-of-punishment-free card weeks ago in the pool.”
Fuck. The night she'd decided to go swimming instead of being in his bedroom on her knees waiting for him.
“Scoot up higher on the bed and spread your legs.”
She looked fearfully at the objects hanging from hooks on the stone wall. Was he going to... whip her there? Pre-emptive tears started to move down her cheeks. “Master, please... please.”
“That's enough. Or it will be worse.”
He took four coils of smooth black rope from a box against the wall and made swift work of tying her down to the bed on her back spread-eagled. Then he pulled a blindfold from his pocket and covered her eyes. The room had gone still. Her breaths sounded so loud, panting out of her in this space that seemed smaller and smaller with each passing moment.
She waited, her body going rigid, tensing for the whip, flogger, or riding crop she was sure was about to land between her legs. Instead, she felt... a tongue?
“Come closer,” he said, his voice obviously addressing the men. She heard chairs scrape over the concrete, footsteps nearing. They were so close to her she could feel them as if their energy were pulsing against hers.
Suddenly a hand stroked over her breast. She pressed herself into the touch, trying to appease him.
“Did I tell you you could touch her yet?” Lindsay snapped. He was at the foot of the bed. So the hand on her breast was someone else.
“Sorry,” the man said, pulling his hand away from her skin as if he'd been burned.
Lindsay resumed his lesson. “You should start by kissing her. Treat the lips of her cunt just as you would the lips of her mouth. Kiss her deeply, slip your tongue inside between them. Nibble lightly.”
And then his mouth was on her... demonstrating. She gasped and arched toward him. What had happened to punishment?
One of the men she now thought she might have to murder, interrupted by asking, “I thought her clit was up higher. I thought that was what I was supposed to focus on.”
Abruptly, Lindsay pulled his mouth away from her.
“No,” she whimpered, her pelvis bucking at the air at the loss of contact.
“Not. Yet.” Lindsay said, irritated. “You have to tease. Let her arousal build. The wetter you get her, the better she'll feel around your cock when you penetrate her. This is as much for your pleasure as it is for hers.”
His delicious, expert mouth went back to kissing between her legs. He ran his tongue languidly over either side of her opening, and then began placing those hard, open mouthed kisses on her pussy, his tongue slipping inside, exploring. He soon had her bucking against him.
“Master, please,” she panted, jerking at the ropes even as she knew they would leave painful marks if she continued this fruitless struggle.
He pulled away and pushed two fingers inside her, slowly fucking her with them. His mouth went to her clit and he began to suckle her there. She felt herself swollen and engorged... so aroused she forgot the men who were no doubt leering down at her.
She felt herself at the very edge of her pleasure. And then he pulled away.
“Please, please please. Don't stop.”
But he didn't resume his ministrations. “Jack, bring me the cane.”
She froze. Even at the mention of the cane, tears gathered and began to sneak out from under the blindfold to wet her face.
A moment later the tip of the cane traced lightly down her inner thigh. She tensed, even as she knew tensing would only make it worse. The cane came down in a sharp rap across the tender flesh it had just skimmed so gently over. Shannon could almost feel the welt blooming out over her skin, raising instantly against the sting of the bamboo.
She let out a shriek.
“Shannon, will you ever fake an orgasm with me again?”
She shook her head violently. “No, Master.”
The cane came down again an inch below the first strike. She cried out again. Her lip trembled.
“Say it. Tell me what you won't ever do again. I need to hear the words so we can be sure we understand each other,” Lindsay said.
It took her a moment to catch her breath from the cane. “I-I won't ever fake an orgasm again.”
The cane came down a third time on her inner thigh, another inch down.
“Please, please,” she whimpered.
“Do you promise?” Lindsay asked as if he weren't convinced.
“Yes, yes, Master I promise.” She jerked at the ropes. “Please, please no more.”
“Jack, hold the cane for me.”
Then his tongue was trailing over each cane mark in turn, ending in soft, open-mouthed kisses against her tormented flesh. After a few moments his mouth had moved back between her legs.
He chuckled against her skin, no doubt finding her even more wet than she'd been before the cane had struck her. He began kissing her again in that soft, slow way, opening his mouth so achingly slowly against her cunt, licking and kissing and sucking and nibbling on her lips before his tongue was inside her again.
He knew exactly when to shift his focus to licking and sucking her clit. Again, he brought her to the very brink. Her moans and whimpers echoed off the stone walls as she writhed for him in earnest this time.
Then he pulled away.
“No, no, no,” she said plaintively. “Please. Please,”
“I find myself troubled, kitten. You see, you have these three lovely marks on one thigh, but the other is just so pale and untouched. I really need them to match. It's possible I may have a touch of OCD. You want them to match, right?”
She let out another shriek and thrashed. He knew she hated the cane. Feared it. It was a sort of searing pain that made everything inside her clench in order to escape it. But bound to this bed, there was no escape. With the blindfold in place, she couldn't even see it coming. And her inner thighs were so sensitive. “Please master.”
She wasn't sure which thing was the punishment, bringing her to the edge of orgasm and then pulling away... or the cane. Or the combination of both.
Long moments of absolute silence passed. Then his mouth was upon her again, devouring her sex, driving her to the edge. He seemed to know exactly the moment to pull back.
Now she was actually crying from the lack of completion.
“I'll make you an offer,” he said finally. “I can give you three more cane welts on your other thigh to match the first, then let you come. Or no orgasm now or for the rest of the day.”
She was aching for him. She needed to come. She needed him inside her. She was so slippery wet, when he finally released her from the ropes she knew she wouldn't be able to walk quite right.
He leaned close to her ear... “Just three more slivers of pain then pleasure all day for the rest of the
day. We'll all make you come. You just have to be brave and take three more strikes.”
When he removed the blindfold, she found a challenge in his eyes.
“It's up to you, kitten. Choose. Tell me you want the stinging kiss of the cane and you can have pleasure after.”
She glanced at the men surrounding the bed. They were absolutely riveted to this show. She longed for the safety and privacy of the blindfold shielding her from their hungry gazes.
Lindsay's fingers dipped inside her again. She arched and bucked off the bed fighting for deeper contact. “Beg me sweetly for the cane,” he demanded.
She shook her head... “I-I can't.”
He withdrew his finger and began to drag her wetness over her folds and to her swollen bud, circling lightly... slowly over it—the exact pressure and speed to drive her crazy without letting her come. Then he pulled away.
“M-master, please.”
“Please what?”
She closed her eyes, tears tracking down her cheeks. “Please, cane me, Master.”
“Holy, shit,” one of the men said in clear disbelief.
Lindsay held his hand out. “Jack? The cane.”
She watched this time as one of the men passed the cane to Lindsay. This time he dragged the tip over her other thigh, so lightly the touch brought goose bumps to prickle out over her flesh. Then he stroked the bamboo across her wetness.
Off her terrified expression he said, “Don't worry, I'm not that much of a sadist.”
The wet cane struck her inner thigh wrenching a scream from her.
“We can stop any time you like, kitten. But if you don't have three welts on each thigh, you can't have an orgasm. Should we stop or do you want the cane again?”
Again he stroked her clit in agonizing slow circles wringing another whimper from her.
He pulled his hand away. “Beg me again. Do you want the cane?”
“Yes, Master. Please.”
“Good girl.”
The cane came down a second time, harder than the first or any of the strikes before it. Shannon writhed as if she could move away from the pain that seemed to still claw through her several seconds after the strike.
“Do you want to stop now? Maybe this is too much for you.”
She did want him to stop but if he stopped he wouldn't let her come. She was too close to wimp out now. She shook her head. “No, Master.”
He moved to the head of the bed and held the cane out in front of her mouth. “Lick it.”
She ran her tongue slowly down the length.
He moved back to his original position. “Now, beg me for another.”
“Please, Master, may I have another?”
“Yes, you may.” The last strike came down as hard as the second causing her to buck off the bed, straining against the ropes.
“Are you ever going to fake another orgasm?” he asked again.
“N-no, Master. Never.”
He moved back between her legs, dragging his tongue over her wetness, tasting her, savoring her. He moaned against her skin, the vibration causing her to shiver and press herself harder against his soothing kiss.
“Look at them while I make you come.”
Her eyes went to Jack. He gripped the cane so hard his knuckles went white as he held her desperate gaze in his hungry one.
Lindsay didn't tease her this time. This time he kissed and licked and sucked and stroked and finger fucked her until she came bucking against him. He wrung every ounce of pleasure from her, urging her to take more until her body was completely wrung out.
He pulled away from her, licking his finger absently. “Now she's had a real orgasm. Who wants to give her the next one?”
Five hands shot in the air at once.
Lindsay watched as Jack dragged his tongue over Shannon's wetness, her thighs spread wide to accommodate his seeking mouth. She bucked and arched off the bed, straining for completion.
“More, please please more,” she whimpered.
“She's a greedy little bitch,” Jack said.
Lindsay rolled his eyes. “They're all greedy little bitches when you know what the fuck you're doing.”
Jack stopped and shot him a dirty glare. Lindsay raised an eyebrow. “Did I tell you you could stop?”
Jack seemed indignant at being ordered around. What did he think the word job meant? These young men had no work ethic. It seemed to Lindsay that this new batch of trainers had come in with the mistaken notion that they were to get paid to receive blow jobs all day. Certainly they would receive frequent blow jobs from the girls at the house, but that wasn't the point. And it wasn't the only thing they were here to do.
“Well?” Lindsay asked. “That wasn't a rhetorical question. Did I tell you you could stop?”
“No,” Jack grated out.
“No, Sir,” Lindsay corrected. The owners weren't about to put up with this sort of disrespect from the trainers. They were being paid well for a job that was every young man's wet dream. And they would do it without a fucking attitude or the consequences would make them regret ever crossing paths with Anton.
“No, Sir,” Jack ground out before turning his attention back to Shannon's pussy.
Lindsay's pet had spent the last two hours being thoroughly pleasured by all five of the new trainers, Jack being the last to have his turn at her. Lindsay decided this much pleasure made up for the nasty business of the cane. He had set her up after all. It was the entire point of the lesson plan. Set her up to displease him, punishment, then pleasure training, as much for Shannon as for the men.
While she might be amazing at giving head, she sometimes held herself back when receiving. And that just didn't work for him. A couple of hours of the constant attention of warm eager tongues between her legs had caused her to loosen up to his satisfaction.
“Finger-fuck her,” Lindsay said, almost a growl, his own erection straining again against his jeans.
Jack pushed two fingers inside her and she pushed back, fucking herself on his fingers, unable to wait for his speed to catch up to how deep she liked it.
“Withdraw and make her beg you to go deeper.”
Jack pulled back.
Lindsay turned to Shannon. “Kitten, we are not going to develop bad habits in here. If you want someone to go deeper, you beg sweetly, you do not try to do it yourself. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” she whimpered. Then she turned to Jack, “Please, Sir, deeper.”
Jack thrust his fingers inside her to the hilt and moved them deep inside her. She moaned and gripped the sheets, bucking and squirming against him once more.
“Mouth on her clit, now,” Lindsay demanded.
Jack suckled her clit while she continued to thrash and whimper beneath his ministrations.
As soon as this guy was finished making her come, Lindsay was going to fuck her again. He needed to bury himself inside the wetness created by so many different tongues and fuck his wanton little slut into oblivion. She'd better come for him when he fucked her this time to make up for the insult of faking her orgasm the first time. It didn't matter that he'd set her up. And it didn't matter that he'd needed her to fall into that set-up for his lesson plan to work. She should have known better. She did know better.
He wondered where on earth Anton had found these new trainers and if they fully understood what they'd signed on for. If they breathed a word about the house, the house would know, and then Brian and Mina would go out on a clean-up mission and erase them and anyone they'd spoken to from the face of the earth. The gleam Lindsay had caught in Brian's eyes earlier at the fresh meat trainers made it clear that he was dying for some carnage.
The new trainers had been instructed to leave their cell phones in a box at the front door on arrival. There was no recording or photography allowed inside the house and they would be escorted well beyond the gates each day before their phones were returned to them.
But that wasn't the main reason the phones had been taken today. While the trainers
were down here pleasuring his pet, Brian was installing listening and tracking spyware onto their phones. If any of them said anything to anyone about the house while that phone was anywhere with them—and what man in his early twenties went anywhere without his phone anymore?—Brian would know about it, and that man would be a dead man.
So these guys better take everything at this house seriously. Otherwise, they'd just payed a very high price to play with some well-trained sluts.
Shannon screamed out her release, but Jack wouldn't let her go. He kept going until she begged him to stop.
“Are you going for extra credit?” Lindsay asked, amused.
“No, Sir, just doing the job properly,” Jack said, getting up and giving Shannon a smirk. “I'll see you, later, kitten.”
Lindsay grabbed the cane off the bed and slammed it down on Jack's bare arm. The man howled and held his arm like a wounded animal.
“What the fuck?” he shouted.
“What the fuck is right,” Lindsay said. “You will see her if I want you to see her and at no other time. She's mine. And nobody calls her kitten but me. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” he said, angrily rubbing at the mark. A red welt had already formed along the length of his forearm.
“Yes, what?” Lindsay said, raising the cane again, happy to deliver more.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy,” Lindsay said with a patronizing smile. “Now go upstairs with your friends.”
Jack stomped off out of the dungeon room and slammed the door behind him. Lindsay turned to find Shannon staring after him, eyes wide.
Then she busted out laughing.
“Never thought you'd see me cane a man, I'll bet,” Lindsay said, smiling down at her.
“Never in a million years,” she agreed.
Lindsay untied her wrists and ankles, rubbing them gently. “Kitten we're going to need to put something on these. You chafed yourself struggling.”
“I'm sorry, Master, I couldn't help it.”
He pressed a kiss to each of her wrists. “I know.” He flipped her to her hands and knees and smacked her ass. “Don't move.”
