Natalie Acres

by Sex Slave [Cowboy Sex 7]

  “Sub, what do you think of the rail car?” Sebastian asked, realizing Wyatt wouldn’t receive a response until he fed her need, fueled that growing desire.

  She quickly scanned the space around them and pointed at the cluster of antique French walnut armchairs. With tall arched backs and striped burgundy-and-beige upholstery, the seating for four was located next to the fully stocked bar, complete with bottles of unopened cognac and several visible wine decanters and choice whiskeys. “It’ll do.”

  “I’m glad,” Sebastian said, laughing.

  The posh furniture was a bit upscale for his taste. Along the opposite window, there were three sets of tables for two. With stately regal elegance, the high seatbacks showcased twisted barley legs and armrests. Even with the padded cushion seats, the chairs looked very uncomfortable.

  “I feel like I’m in an action-suspense movie and we’re filming on the Orient Express,” she admitted, searching the car.

  “Have you seen the bedroom?” Sebastian asked.

  “Yes,” she replied, her eyes hooded.

  “Why don’t you go in there now, sub,” Sebastian suggested.

  “By myself?” she asked, definite play in her voice.

  “We’ll be right in.”

  Before she made it out of the main rail car, Sebastian started playing another tune, one with a definite jazzy flare. “Oh and, sub? Wyatt placed some toys in the desk. Why don’t you choose a few and play until we join you?”

  Apparently wise to the building sexual tension, Kimberly kept her back to them and chose a few items from a drawer. Sebastian smirked as he played the piano, his fingers racing over the keys as he pounded out a melody indicative of his growing sexual frustration.

  Wyatt stared at her ass until she disappeared on the other side of the half wall. “Remember this trip only lasts about seventeen hours.”

  “Your point?” Sebastian tilted his chin and closed his eyes as the music became part of him, lifting him higher, filling his soul.

  “While I enjoy the entertainment, we’d probably have a better time with Kimberly.”

  “And we will. Let’s just give her a few minutes. She needs to use that sensual imagination and think of ways to please us while satisfying herself.”

  “I don’t want her satisfying herself.”

  “Then maybe you should poke your head in the bedroom and remind her that she can only find satisfaction when she’s granted permission.”

  “Kimberly knows the rules of the game,” Wyatt said.

  “It’s not a game, Wyatt. Not to her. Not to me.”

  “And you think I’m playing here?”

  “You were the one who figured out what she needed. Now, for the life of me I can’t understand why you’re unwilling to give her what she desires most.”

  “And you’ve tripped over yourself to please her?”

  “I’m waiting on you,” Sebastian said, poking one ivory key at a time.

  Wyatt placed his hand on the key cover and snapped his wrist, pretending like he intended to mash Sebastian’s hands between the rounded wooden cover and the piano keys. “We should talk.”

  Sebastian scooted away from his instrument of choice. “About?”

  “I think she’s ready to move on without Neely.”

  “I would hope so,” Sebastian said. “After all the proof we’ve supplied, surely she understands the foundation of their relationship now.”

  “She was already finished with Neely before I brought her to Columbia. While I was working on the renovations out at Cow Camp, Mitch kept me informed. She was spending fewer hours with Neely and throwing herself into Clink, working to gain international recognition and so forth.”

  “Still doesn’t change the fact she fucked him several days ago.”

  “Why does that bother you so much?”

  Sebastian rose to his feet and strolled to the window, staring out as Columbia disappeared behind them, fading into the darkness as the train pulled away from the station. “If we had stepped forward a long time ago, we might have saved her.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t need to be saved, Sebastian. Maybe all she needs is love.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Wyatt joined Cherie in the dining car a few minutes later. He pondered his own assessment of what Kimberly needed and wanted most.

  “Where’s Sebastian?” Cherie asked, handing him a drink.

  “Something wrong with the brandy?” he asked, staring into the glass.

  “I’ve had a few,” Cherie replied. “And you look like you could use one.”

  “I won’t turn down good liquor,” he muttered, glancing around the room. “Everyone pleasant enough so far?”

  “I suppose,” she replied. “I’ve been trying to make my way to the front of the train. There’s a lot of excitement up there.”

  Wyatt turned up the tumbler and took a hearty chug. “Is it a private car?”

  “Apparently so,” Cherie said, sticking her lip out. “And here I thought we were the only special guests on the train.”

  “We were,” he said, stroking his chin. “We need to find out who had enough power to add a private rail car to this train.”

  “Kimberly’s parents?”

  “I doubt it. I sent Mitch a text to let him know what we were doing so the Cartwells wouldn’t worry. If they were on the train, they wouldn’t add a car.”

  “You never know,” Cherie said. “The whole family has a sick fascination with sex.”

  “They have a sick fascination with love.”

  “Then you’ll fit right in,” Cherie said, slapping him between the shoulder blades.

  “Can I ask you something?” Wyatt grabbed her arm before she left to join the voyeurs at the front of the train.

  “By the look on your face, I couldn’t stop you so go ahead.”

  “You and me?”

  Cherie placed her palm to his cheek. “No regrets here, Wyatt. You were always in love with Kimberly. It had gotten so bad that even club goers told me not to waste my time. You gave me experience without making me feel used.”

  “But I trained you without—”

  “Without consummating the relationship?” Cherie interrupted him by snorting out a round of laughter. “I would probably hate you right now if you had trained me, fucked me, and still let me go. All I feel for you is gratitude and love.”

  “I love you, too, you know,” Wyatt said. “And you’ll always be under my protection.”

  “Oh listen at you,” she drawled, snickering. “You sound like you’re in the mob.”

  “I guess I do.”

  “Come on, Bugsy,” she teased, looping her arm through his. “Let’s see who has more money than Sebastian.”

  “Or spends it like they have more money than Sebastian?”

  She groaned. “Exactly.”

  * * * *

  By the time they squeezed by countless couples and voyeurs, Wyatt was impatient. It had taken about ten minutes to make their way to the front of the train and he was disappointed once they arrived there.

  Patrons shuffled between the theatre-type seating located on a covered walkway between cars. Someone grumbled about the short performance and someone else complained about the age of the exhibitionists. Another few couples sat closely together, acting as if they couldn’t wait for another performance.

  “What do you think?” Cherie asked. “Should we go?”

  “No,” Wyatt replied, taking his seat on the front row. There were only four rows of five chairs in a bleacher-type configuration, but by the number of people they passed on the way to the rail car, Wyatt would guess the exhibitionists had enjoyed quite an audience.

  A door opened and closed and the glass dome shook as the train continued down the tracks. The arena, which was the dome area of this particular rail car, occupied about fifteen percent of the car’s square footage and was completely surrounded by glass.

  The back wall, which would’ve housed a terrace-style door in the middle, was covered by
a drawn theatre-style curtain. The burgundy and gold hues made Wyatt think of the hometown reel-to-reel movie theatres. The private rail car looked like a mirror image of their compartment except their dome area was considered an open-deck observation carriage which allowed viewers the opportunity to stand extremely close to the exhibitionists.

  “Here we go,” Cherie said, nudging him.

  Three masked men appeared, slipping away from the curtain and waiting near the back of the car, obviously expecting their submissive to appear within moments. Seconds later, the curtain rotated on a rod, blocking the audience from view.

  “Well, that was worth the wait,” Wyatt said, frustrated.

  “Tell me about it,” Cherie grumbled.

  Wyatt’s cell vibrated in his pocket. He fished the device out of his jacket and read aloud, “Sebastian said you have something for me.”

  “Oh I almost forgot.” She dug in her purse and came up with a remote control. “Kimberly told me you might want this.”

  Wyatt grinned at the remote, remembering how well Kimberly had responded to the vibrators when the charity’s auctioneer had demonstrated her agility. Her moves had been hypnotic, graceful even, when he’d thrust the vibrator remote forward and clicked through different settings and speeds.

  “Don’t just look at it, guy. The poor girl is probably stretched out on the bed, waiting for some action.”

  “With Sebastian there, I doubt it.”

  “True,” Cherie said. “Which brings me to question why you’re sitting here with me when you have a beautiful woman waiting for you?”

  “Trying to figure out who those people are,” he said, pointing at the drawn curtain.

  “Who’s to say they aren’t just on a trip like we are?”

  “We have a motive for being here,” Wyatt reminded her.

  “Maybe they do, too.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Meaning, they’re here for a vacation. Maybe it’s their anniversary or a celebration of some sort. You never know. Not everyone believes there’s a conspiracy surrounding them.”

  “You think we’re taking extreme measures to protect Kimberly. Don’t you?”

  “I think you’ll eventually push her away if you aren’t careful,” Cherie said. “And I know you will if you don’t give her what she needs.”

  “Has she talked to you about her expectations?” Wyatt asked, completely bothered by the possibility. If Kimberly had opened up and discussed her desires with Cherie, then they had somehow already failed her.

  “No, she hasn’t.” Cherie put his mind at ease. “But I saw her at the auction, Wyatt. She was beautiful. Someone like Kimberly Cartwell is unusual. She stands out in a crowd. She wants and needs things the average man can’t or won’t give her.”

  “I’ll give her what she needs,” Wyatt muttered, jabbing the remote control and picturing her pretty pussy lips parting with the sudden impalement.

  His lips twitched as he imagined her bound to the berth, her body gyrating with the sensations rushing through her body. Of course she was probably unbound, no thanks to Sebastian dragging his feet, but at least she’d had the foresight to think ahead and give Cherie the vibrator remote.

  Even if she wasn’t wearing the vibrator, he could fantasize, dream. Hope.

  Erotic noises resounded and the mysterious curtain lifted. By the time the occupants allowed voyeurs to look on, they were already in the throes of passion.

  “Holy hell,” Cherie said, leaning forward.

  “I’ll say,” Wyatt said, watching in awe as the woman with flaming red hair accepted cocks in all three main orifices.

  One man was under her, fucking her pussy with timed strokes. The other stood behind her, impaling her with quick, short thrusts while keeping her leash tightly drawn. Her mouth opened for the man standing at her side, and his cock disappeared down her throat.

  “Ever seen anything like that?” Cherie asked, reaching under her shirt and seemingly unaware of the fact that she’d started to pull at her nipple clamps, a daily accessory Cherie had worn since Wyatt had known her.

  The man pounded his cock inside his lover’s mouth, stroking her cheek affectionately. When she turned her head toward his groin, Wyatt narrowed his gaze.

  “They’re familiar to me.”

  “I don’t know how,” Cherie said, shoving her arm higher. Her face was flushed as she looked on, admiring the sexual acts progressing. “Those masks are practically concealing their entire faces.”

  Wyatt honed in on the larger man with shoulder-length hair. He screwed his woman’s tight, shapely ass and issued an order. Soon, an attendant appeared in the dome, handing off lube and a riding crop.

  Wyatt longed for this sort of experience with Kimberly. He clicked the remote control, sent her a text message, and directed her to send him pictures. He forwarded the message to Sebastian as well, just in case she was unavailable for a return comment.

  He grinned to himself as he thought of Kimberly on her knees, sipping at his cock, rolling her wicked tongue around his crest like this woman was consuming her man’s shape, licking and lapping, greedily feasting on his meat.

  “Fuck me, damn you!” she screamed, jerking when the man underneath her slapped her breast.

  “That’s too fucking wicked,” Cherie said, withdrawing her hand.

  “Painful to think about?”

  “Yes,” Cherie replied, shaking her head. “It’s dangerous, too.”

  Depending on the strike, Wyatt could see where a hard smack could be harmful to a woman’s health. He stroked his chin and eyed the positioning of the four lovers.

  “They have stamina,” Cherie said. “I’ll give them that. Think about it. They’re all so in sync. I mean it’s really beautiful to watch them together.”

  Where had he heard that before? He focused on the redhead and watched as she devoured the end of her lover’s dick, pulling him forward with a suction to make any man crave the same. At the same time, a resounding wallop fell upon her ass and she threw her hips back, practically begging for another smack.

  The man’s muscular arm propelled high above him, and he swatted her again, pressing down on her back as he whipped her. Her body seemingly undulated more with every strike.

  “Fuck me with your lips, baby,” the one receiving head said. “Tighten. Tighten. That’s right. Suck. Here you go, sweetheart. Ah yeah!”

  His body jerked violently as the woman consumed his cock and swallowed rapidly, her reflexes obviously toned and perfected, skilled and trained. As she finished one, the other two shared her body in a seesaw fashion.

  “Come!” someone shouted. “Now, Vicky! Now, my sweet sub!”

  “Ah fuck,” Wyatt grumbled, grabbing Cherie’s hand. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Damn it. I’ll miss the best part.”

  About that time, a text message arrived. Wyatt stared down at one beautiful image—Kimberly in a fetal position with her arms bound around her knees. He caught a glimpse of a light blue vibrator and his lips twitched.

  “You go on,” she said, pushing away from him. “I want to see the rest of this.”

  “Cherie, those people are Kimberly’s godparents!” Wyatt hissed. “This isn’t right.”

  “Maybe not for you,” she said. “But I won’t be around them. They won’t be at my family dinners.” She laughed. “Besides, I’ve never seen anything sexier. This is what makes our community of friends special, Wyatt. The BDSM community is often muddied because of folks like Jason Neely and Vince Littleton. These people make our lifestyle unique.”

  He couldn’t agree more.

  “So much loving,” she whispered, her eyes heavy with longing. “So much intensity and fire.”

  “I’ve gotta get out of here before they see me,” Wyatt said, cursing himself for not putting two and two together. He should’ve recognized Vicky. He should’ve realized that rogue of a man with tangled hair all over his head was Joshua McKay.

/>   “You’re acting like you aren’t supposed to see them. Think about that for a minute. Why would they care who watched them? They’re obviously enjoying one another and they clearly don’t have stage fright.”

  “There you go, sub! Come on, baby, fuck me with that tight pussy. Give it to me. Ah yeah. Make me hurt. Make me want. You damn well know what to do!”

  Clearly. No stage fright there.

  “Wait for permission, sub.” A hard slap fell upon Vicky’s ass. “Wait, siren.”

  Wyatt froze as the sounds of sex beckoned him to look once more. Now, he could easily place and identify each man. Patrick discarded a condom. In an easy gait, he walked to a lounger and collapsed against the cushions, working his hand over his cock as if he wanted everyone to pay close attention to his sizeable erection.

  “He has to be on pills,” Cherie said. “No one can fuck like that and still have a damn hard-on.”

  According to some, Patrick was nothing more but a living, breathing sex instrument. All he cared about was Vicky. Rumors suggested they fucked several times a day. And Patrick himself had even mentioned something about exercises they practiced as some sort of daily regimen. He boasted about keeping her twat and ass conditioned for day-long sex marathons.

  Watching her was like observing a sex sensation. She clearly adored her three men.

  “Do you feel guilty?” Cherie asked.

  “Why should I?”

  “I don’t know, maybe because Kimberly is ‘the one’ for you. I’m curious how that works. When I find the right one, I still want to watch others. Ya know?”

  “Kimberly likes watching. She likes performing. I enjoy the same.”

  “For sure,” Cherie muttered. Her keen focus had returned to the McKays.

  Wyatt had a perpetual erection as the eroticism of the entire area seemed to swallow him whole. “I’m off to find my woman. If you want to see how good loving looks, come on back to our rail car soon. We’ll be showing off in a bit.”

  Cherie laughed. “You won’t show these guys up.”

  “How much you wanna bet?”

  Chapter Thirty-Six