Theirs to Train: A Victorian Menage Romance

by Samantha Madisen

  We.

  Lina again found her lips parting, thousands of words at the tip of her tongue: questions, proclamations, worries, protestations. But no words left her mouth, only a puff of air, for she could not retain a thought in her head long enough to form them. Mr. Blackstone’s fingers were traveling down her bare back, lightly tracing the curve of her spine, coming to the lowest part of her back where the round of her bottom began, and they continued, into the fabric of the dress, between her buttocks. She ached for him to press upon the knob between her cheeks, to make the object inside of her bruise her tender flesh in any direction, but he did not. His fingers moved back up her spine and to the parted folds of the dress, which he slipped from her shoulders so that the material peeled away as one would peel a tropical fruit, and her bare torso was exposed to Dr. Doyle.

  Shamefully, as Mr. Blackstone aroused her so, her eyes had drifted to Dr. Doyle’s manhood. It, like the objects in Mr. Blackstone’s dungeon-like room, was long and smooth, with a ridge at the end of it, and the curious hole she had felt with her tongue when Mr. Blackstone had put his cock in her mouth. But it pulsed, and seemed to grow before her, and was made of flesh, not a cold stone. She remembered what it felt like to have Mr. Blackstone’s prick inside of her, hard and hot, and a liquid poured from between her legs, trickling down the insides of her thighs.

  Mr. Blackstone peeled the rest of the dress from her body, taking her drawers with it, but quickly caught her wrists as he stood up behind her. His lips closed on her skin again, on her neck, just above her left shoulder, and her eyes felt too heavy to keep open. A murmur fluttered in her throat; she could not stop it.

  Dr. Doyle climbed onto the bed, still watching her. Mr. Blackstone’s hands moved over her chest, cupping her breasts, rubbing a thumb over her erect nipples. The feeling of his fingers on her nipples seemed connected, as if by an internal string, to the pulsing cunny between her legs, especially that button that made her jerk so wildly. She craved his touch there, but he instead rolled her hardened nipples in his fingers, held up her bounty for Dr. Doyle to watch, sitting upright on the bed, his prick full and pointed straight above his lap.

  Mr. Blackstone was moving her forward all this while, so slowly she did not realize they were moving until her thighs brushed against the bed, so transfixed was she by the scene before her and the feel of his fingers.

  “Go to him, my pet,” Mr. Blackstone breathed against her neck, just as Dr. Doyle held out his hands to take her wrists, which Mr. Blackstone lifted toward him as if choreographed. Lina could not have willed her body to do anything but what they wanted it to do, even if she had been able to think of such an idea. Her arms went limply to Dr. Doyle, who encircled her wrists and pulled her onto the bed, rising up to meet her mouth with his.

  Dr. Doyle’s hands moved down her arms, as tenderly as Mr. Blackstone’s had, guiding her to be situated atop his lap. She could feel his male part against the insides of her thighs, but her thoughts were pulled to Dr. Doyle’s kiss: his lips were soft, dry, and warm. His tongue pushed insistently into her mouth, and her body melted as he kissed her. It was the only thing she could think of until he pulled away from her mouth, her lips gently nabbed between his teeth. He met her eyes, and kissed her again, pressing the small of her back so that her naked body was against his hot skin and hard muscle.

  He moved a hand between her legs, brushing over her cunny, a finger sliding into her slippery folds and over the nub, making her body buck against him. He held her in place, curling a finger up inside of her and pulling her gently toward him, so that a terrifyingly pleasant ache held her steady against his chest as his mouth moved insistently over hers.

  “I am going to put my prick inside you now, Carolina,” he breathed, with his lips very close to hers. “And then we are going to take you together, and claim you as our own.”

  Lina’s eyes went wide. “But—” she murmured, but Dr. Doyle kissed her, and she could feel his smile on her lips as he did.

  “You will do fine,” Dr. Doyle breathed. “You will be a very good girl and take us both. You’re doing very nicely, Carolina, and we will be gentle if you submit yourself completely. Will you do that, Carolina? Submit to your masters and allow us to pleasure ourselves and spend in your pretty cunny and your little bottom?”

  Lina found her mouth open again but unable to form the words. Dr. Doyle had made the coiled ache in her belly tighten so that she felt as though she might burst. She knew that she must say it, that she must submit, but a flash of fear gripped her as she imagined the two men inside of her.

  “B...bbboth... of you?” she whispered weakly. Her head was already moving side to side, very tremulously. “It’s... too much,” she whispered. “Is it not? You will be... too big...”

  Behind her, as she spoke, she could hear in the trembling pauses of her voice that Mr. Blackstone was removing his clothing. He, too, would be naked, and she longed to look at his body as she had Dr. Doyle’s, and to see his manhood, to feel it...

  Dr. Doyle brushed his thumb over Lina’s lower lip. “We will be very gentle with you, Carolina. Perhaps later, when you have been trained, we shall take you however the mood strikes us, but you will desire to please us and your submission will bring you your own pleasure. As it already has. Now tell me, will you be a good girl and submit to your masters at last, so we may claim you as our own?”

  Mr. Blackstone was behind her on the bed now; she felt his weight shift behind her. His hands gripped her gently at her ribcage, then slid down to her hips, his thumbs into the valley between her buttocks, until they nudged the object in her bottom.

  Lina mewled and closed her eyes. Dr. Doyle’s mouth closed around her right nipple, a wet heat that made her body shiver.

  “You must say the words, Lina,” Mr. Blackstone breathed near her ear. “Say that you will submit to being taken.”

  Lina heard herself as though from far away. “I submit to being taken,” she mewled. “By my masters.”

  “Sir,” Mr. Blackstone prodded, and she thought she heard a smile in his usually stern voice. She could certainly feel Dr. Doyle’s lips as his expression changed.

  “Sir,” Lina breathed.

  She could not know whose hands did what next, for there were four of them and they seemed to move in concert. Hands pushed her thighs apart, hands moved into her hair making it tumble from the carefully arranged style, and hands pulled her locks firmly as Dr. Doyle’s mouth claimed hers again. Hands cupped her breasts, fingers moved over the object in her bottom, and then she was lifted by hands and pushed against Dr. Doyle’s chest as his manhood was guided to her cunny.

  He swallowed the sound she made as his thick member slid into her body, hot and firm, pressing against her, filling her up. The hand on the back of her head lifted her gently, but she wanted to move, and so she rose and then fell, riding the thick column between her legs, her mewling sucked into Dr. Doyle’s mouth.

  His body moved beneath her, while his hand on her back pressed her to him, and then they were sliding until they were horizontal on the bed. She could feel Mr. Blackstone’s hands, parting her legs, moving the object in her bottom. As it rolled inside of her, it pressed against the throbbing heat of Dr. Doyle’s cock, and she squirmed but could not move, for she was pressed against him by one of those strong hands that held her in place.

  The ache between her legs was building, and Dr. Doyle moved her so that the place between her legs that gave her so much pleasure was squeezed again and again, and she could feel herself very nearly going over that cliff of pleasure.

  But then she felt the object in her bottom, sliding out, leaving her empty, her body throbbing with disappointment. Just as she began to cry out and turn her head to see what Mr. Blackstone was doing, the smooth, thick heat of his prick kissed her throbbing eyelet.

  “Oh!” she moaned, as he pushed inside of her. He was far larger than the plug, but the sharp, stretching pain was momentary.

  “Shhh,” Dr. Doyle whispered in her ear,
cradling her head to his shoulder. “Submit your body to our will. Relax.”

  His fingers played with her hair, and her eyes went wide and her body stiff for a moment, but then she melted against his embrace as Mr. Blackstone slid inside of her, filling her completely, until the hardened muscles of his chest, damp with sweat, were against her own.

  Between them, enveloped in the strength of their bodies, filled with their manhood, Lina’s body seemed to become almost liquid. She was encircled by their protective desire and could not escape it—nor did she want to. Soon the ache between her legs was overpowering her again, and she could hear the moan in her chest as it blossomed, fluttered in her throat, and a rushing sound filled her ears. But the two men moving against her body left her no room to squirm.

  The pleasure that overtook her nearly made her lose consciousness. She was screaming in pleasure, but heard herself as though from far away. Her legs shook against theirs, among theirs, and her body squeezed and pulsed against the two pricks inside of her.

  But they were not done, they only slowed as she spent away to a shuddering limpness between them; slowly, plunging deep inside of her so that she was entirely full, then teasing her as they rubbed against her insides, pulling out, then thrusting deep inside again.

  “I cannot,” she murmured, breathlessly, “it is too much, I cannot...”

  But what she “could not,” she could not know. She could not have more pleasure, and yet she could. It mattered not, for they slowly moved against her body until again the pleasure between her legs began to claw inside of her and rise, like a swell. Stars began to form at the edges of her eyes, and she was certain it would be too much this time. Too much pleasure, and she would not be able to withstand it.

  The second time she careened over the edge of that tidal pleasure, she could not scream. Her mouth was open but her body seemed to freeze, and no sound could leave her lips. Vaguely, through the haze of that terrifying pleasure, she felt the seed of first Dr. Doyle, and then the deep, thick thrusts of Mr. Blackstone’s fat prick in her bottom, before the hot wetness of his seed filled her there as well.

  For a long time, they remained entangled in each other’s arms. They were both inside of her, around her, and she felt as safe and fulfilled as she had ever imagined she could feel in her life.

  But when Dr. Doyle stirred, and pulled away from her to look her in the eyes, she remembered that beneath all of this bliss there were unsettled questions and what seemed like dark secrets. Her expression clouded, and Dr. Doyle, always sensitive to her troubles, touched her cheek.

  “What is wrong, my darling Lina? We have not hurt you, I hope?”

  Lina chewed on her lip, and shook her head lightly. Behind her, Mr. Blackstone was also stirring, though he did not release her from his arms, but instead wrapped them more tightly around her and entwined his fingers with hers. His lips grazed her shoulder.

  “Then what, my pet?” Dr. Doyle asked her.

  “I’m just...” Lina began. She found herself, as so many times before, tongue-tied, and unable to finish her sentence. So many thoughts and feelings sprang up in her mind and heart, and they all collided together. “I’m just... so happy... and you’ve made me... I don’t understand why... and haven’t we done something so very...? And I don’t... I simply do not understand!” She finished with exasperation, for she was very much aware that what she was saying made very little sense.

  Dr. Doyle kissed her on the forehead. “I promise to you that we shall explain everything, and that all will be quite well, and we shall take care of you and keep you as our bride. For now, I recommend sleep.”

  Sleep. Sleep did threaten to claim Lina; it made her eyelids heavy, her limbs felt like stone. The warmth of their two bodies enveloped her in a haze, but she resisted the urge to drift away into her dreams. “But... how... what...?” she heard herself saying.

  She still didn’t understand, just as she had understood nothing since Mr. Blackstone had come to Green Grove Manor, and she had seen his blue eyes through the hedge.

  “Sleep now, my love,” Dr. Doyle said.

  * * *

  When she awoke, they were both dressed. Mr. Blackstone was seated on the edge of the bed, his fingers moving along the length of her arm to stroke her gently awake. “It is time to begin the day, Lina, darling,” he said. “I wanted to wake you before I began my work.” He leaned over to kiss her. “And Callum says I must remain here to explain matters to you,” he added, glancing at Dr. Doyle.

  Dr. Doyle was holding a dressing gown of fine white silk with black embroidery so that Lina could step into it as she left the bed. A marvelous breakfast had been arranged on a table in the dressing room, which Lina had—for very clear reasons—not noticed the evening before.

  Dr. Doyle slid the gown over her shoulders, and Mr. Blackstone kissed her again, and then they escorted her to the table, where they nearly fell over each other making sure her every whim and desire was taken care of immediately.

  “Well,” Dr. Doyle declared, as she bit into a scrumptious toast with rose hip jam slathered on it, “I suppose we should explain... matters to you plainly.”

  Lina nodded and covered her lips to murmur, “I should very much like that,” without the toast falling from her mouth.

  “Rohan—Mr. Blackstone, but you shall, whenever we are not engaged in our intimate games, call him by his first name should you desire, and me as well—and I discovered our predilection for sharing women when we were soldiers in the war together. A man has a great deal of time to talk to his brothers in arms during the long hours of idle waiting that are so prevalent in a war.” Dr. Doyle stirred something into Lina’s tea and handed it to her. “This will be quite refreshing after a night of such exertion,” he told her, smiling.

  Lina sipped the tea, and found it to be so. But she wanted the rest of their story, so she looked at him expectantly.

  “Naturally,” Dr. Doyle said, with a glance at Mr. Blackstone, “such arrangements are disallowed in this rather... conservative society. Rohan was to inherit a great fortune from his uncle, but only upon the condition that he marry respectably. And naturally, no woman who would live such an unconventional lifestyle would conform to such a definition.”

  “Fortune, however, smiled upon us when we were both injured at the front. We were sent back to England with several soldiers who were plotting a scheme to legitimize their marriages to the women they loved, and we listened to their plans. These men had wild plans, which involved stealing the identity of another man who looked very much like them, for they had both been horribly disfigured in their relative misfortunes.”

  “Now, Rohan had no such injuries, nor did I, but he had been cut severely across the face. We bandaged him long before our arrival in this country, and I pretended that his injuries were so severe that he was horribly disfigured and must become a recluse with a personal surgeon always at his side. Thus the myth of Rohan Blackstone the monster was born, and we have employed various methods of... shall we say, perpetuating this myth. The idea was that his uncle might see fit to pass his fortune on to Rohan without a valid marriage, for he could hardly be expected to marry with such a disability, and a physical deformity which had caused him to become a recluse.”

  “And yet, the old man instead secured the money for a distant relative, after making an allowance for Rohan’s well-being.”

  Lina looked at Mr. Blackstone, who was silent as always. Then she looked around the grand room, evidence aplenty that some fortune must have been inherited.

  Dr. Doyle chuckled, having read her thoughts.

  “Mr. Blackstone found other ways to secure his fortune, for he is a very clever man indeed. He might have abandoned this other ruse, that of being deformed and reclusive, if not for one thing: he very much wanted to obtain a woman for us to share, one who would be his bride and allow for our... proclivities to be satisfied.”

  “And that, my dear Lina, is where you have come in. At last, he believed we had found such a woman—a
woman who held no title, no fortune, and indeed, no family reputation to protect—but who was charming and beautiful, and of good enough upbringing to be easily adjusted to a life in a manor such as this. We believed that your circumstances, and your upbringing, and your much-famed tendencies toward rather feral behavior, would all combine splendidly for our purposes. In you, we thought we had found the perfect bride.”

  “And we have,” Rohan said softly, sending a shudder of pleasure down Lina’s spine again.

  Dr. Doyle slid his hand across the table and touched hers. “Carolina, we were disappointed when we heard what happened with you and Mr. Carrington. We allowed that disappointment to lead us to rash decisions. But we have changed our minds, for we cannot live without you, and we realize our grave error. If you will have us, you will marry Rohan, and we shall live our lives together, here, all three of us. We shall share you as we always wanted, and in exchange for your... flexibility... you shall never want for anything, for two men can better care for a woman than one.”

  Lina’s eyes were wet with tears whose provenance she could not be sure of; she was filled with wonder, confusion, joy, and curiosity, and she could not determine which of those sentiments so overwhelmed her.

  “But... but...” she said, looking back and forth from each man to the other almost helplessly.

  “What is it, my darling? Whatever it is, we shall correct it. All that we ask is that you submit to our sexual desires, and I believe you do so willingly. Anything else that you desire you shall have,” Dr. Doyle said.

  “For you are perfect, Lina,” Mr. Blackstone said, his hand on her shoulder, gently at first and then with possessive squeeze. “And we shall give you all that you desire. If you will only give us what we desire, should you accept us.”