Enslaved for Their Use

by Ivy Barrett

  They’d promised to rescue Brianne. She should have trusted them to do whatever it took to ensure her eventual release. It had been disloyal and disrespectful to send that message. It indicated her doubt in their determination and competency. They knew how much her sisters meant to her, and they wanted her to be happy, so it followed that they would do whatever they could to help Celeste.

  That just left Lorna and her mates.

  She faced a sleekly curved apparatus with several padded surfaces. The lower shelf was meant for her knees, no doubt, the upper, larger one for her torso. There was also a set of padded supports for her forearms complete with molded hand grips. There wasn’t a hole for her face, so she’d have to turn her head to one side or the other.

  “You said you would submit if I answered your question,” Moxtel said from behind her. “Get in position. You will not be restrained. I want you to accept your punishment willingly.”

  Oh, God, that made it so much harder. She’d have to hold herself still while they punished her. And this was a second infraction of the same offense, so it was guaranteed to be harsh. Dread built with each motion as she knelt on the lower shelf and bent over the upper. The smooth synthetic leather felt cool beneath her knees, breasts, and belly, but already her cheeks were burning. She was humiliated, disappointed in her own decisions. She turned her head to the right and positioned her arms, wrapping her fingers around the vertical handles.

  “Open your thighs,” Moxtel ordered. “We need access to that naughty pink pussy.”

  Her stomach cramped, and her mouth went dry. This was going to be worse than she’d thought. Even so, she slowly moved her knees apart, opening herself to her masters, ready for their discipline. Her body belonged to them. She was theirs to use, fuck, and punish as they chose. Cool air wafted across her folds, and her nipples tingled as teasing hints of arousal threaded through her other emotions.

  They were silent for a long time. Tension built and she realized they were plotting telepathically, figuring out who would do what without letting her know any of it. All she could do was wait—and surrender.

  Someone brushed her hair back from her face, and she gasped. Moxtel stood beside her, looking stern and indomitable. “Belton will warm you up then I will drive the lesson home.”

  “How?” she whispered, suspecting he wouldn’t explain.

  He just smiled and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You’re so beautiful like this, surrendered, open and eager for whatever we have planned.”

  “Thank you, Master. I’m glad I please you.” And she meant it. His approval had become ridiculously important to her. Belton reassured her often, but Moxtel had never given her any hint of his feelings, until tonight.

  Their gazes locked as he ran his hands over her back and upturned ass. “Do you understand why this correction must be so intense?”

  She shivered, unnerved yet not really afraid. “Yes, Master.” Her body craved intensity, pleasure or pain, it didn’t seem to matter. Her core rippled, accenting the empty ache.

  “Then tell me why. Be specific.”

  “I didn’t trust you and Belton to take care of me or to protect those I love.”

  “That’s right. You also endangered a very important alliance. Your focus on Brianne neglected the larger picture.” He continued to touch her, skimming her sides, and caressing her arms. “We are trying to end this war. Unless Ram can control the fallout from your rash impulse, you might have cost us our best chance at shifting the momentum in our favor.”

  “I’m sorry, Master,” she said quietly. “I really am.”

  Her bottom cheeks were pulled apart, and she gasped, trying to look back. She’d been so focused on Moxtel that she’d momentarily forgotten Belton was behind her. Moxtel lightly grasped the back of her neck, silently reminding her to remain still. Something smooth and slick rubbed against her hidden pucker. That’s right. Belton was going to warm her up. Calming herself with a slow, deep breath, she relaxed her muscles inside and out. Belton had fucked her ass several times, but Moxtel had only taken her mouth or pussy. Was accepting Moxtel’s massive cock into her ass going be part of her punishment? A tingle dropped down her spine, making her clit twitch, but she wasn’t sure if anticipation or dread had triggered the reaction.

  Belton teased her sensitive opening with a well-lubed toy. She tried not to smile. As long as they used plenty of lube, she enjoyed anal play.

  “If you believe any of this is going to be enjoyable, you’re mistaken,” Moxtel warned.

  “The gel covering this plug isn’t ordinary lubricant. It’s called ayeetis,” Belton told her. “The compound causes a variety of sensations, all of them unpleasant. However, the ingredients are harmless and leave little residual tenderness once the discipline is finished. That’s why it’s used so widely in our star system.”

  Distracted by the stretching caused by the plug’s insertion, she barely noticed the gradual increase in temperature. Belton drove the plug deeper into her ass with slow yet steady pressure, opening her reluctant body as it filled her up inside. She stubbornly held still and focused on relaxing, determined to submit to his will. But the warmth swelled and churned, quickly transforming into a persistent sting.

  “Has this been tested on humans?” Despite her determination to submit, she squirmed, rocking her hips and arching her back. “It burns!”

  “It is perfectly safe,” Belton insisted. “And it’s meant to hurt. This is a punishment.” He drew the plug back then pushed it even deeper. She cried out as the burning increased. “This is what happens to bad girls. They get fucked with fire.”

  Again and again, he used the plug to stretch and torment her. She yelled and screamed, tossed her head and moaned, but none of it made any difference. The burning deepened and receded, creating echoing pulses in her core. She needed his cock, or Moxtel’s pounding into her, distracting her from the misery—and shame. She’d disappointed them, betrayed them with her selfish actions. She hadn’t cared that she put them at risk.

  Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and her screams turned to harsh sobs. Belton finally slowed, then pushed the plug all the way in and left it deep inside her. “You will wear this as a reminder of your mistakes until I take it out. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she sobbed, feeling wretched, and knowing her discipline was far from over. This was just the warmup. Belton and Moxtel switched places. She looked up at Belton through her tears, but couldn’t bear the disappointment in his gaze. “I’m so sorry, Sir. I will never do anything like that again.”

  Belton brushed her hair back from her face and pressed a kiss against her temple. “We’re going to make sure of it.”

  Moxtel traced her slit with the tip of one finger, then circled her vaginal entrance. “You’re so fucking wet, sweet slave, your juices have pooled on the railing between your knees. Shall I fuck you before I punish you?”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Please, please fuck me.”

  He suddenly pushed two fingers into her needy core but withdrew them just as quickly. “Not yet. You’re doing very well, but it’s not yet time for pleasure.”

  She hated Moxtel at that moment, almost as much as she needed him. He walked away, and she whimpered, desperately wanting this over. She could hear him moving around, but couldn’t see what he was doing.

  “What’s the level of your discomfort?” Belton asked, his hand resting in the middle of her back. “I can give you a break if it’s unbearable, but it goes back in before Mox starts.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve adjusted to it. And I deserve it.” She punctuated the last sentence with another sob. The burning had subsided, but a persistent throb remained. It combined with the fullness of the plug, making her feel invaded and restless.

  “Breathe, my love. You’re holding your breath.” Belton stroked her from shoulder to hip, and she obediently took a breath. “Good girl. Take another.”

  Moxtel returned to his position near her left hip. He touc
hed the small of her back with something smooth and cool, like leather or synth-leather. As he ran the thing up her spine, he moved around the table, circling in front until he stood where she could see him. He held an implement that looked like the love child of a crop and a flogger. It had a long, thin shaft, but rather than one ‘keeper,’ the whip had multiple strands, each about three inches long.

  “You cried out so beautifully for Belton,” Moxtel said as he tapped her back with the loose tails. The impact was not even hard enough to sting, just announce his intention to begin. “Will you scream for me, sweet slave?” He snapped the strands lightly against her back on one side and then the other.

  The sensation was sharp, yet not really painful. She squirmed against the table, needing so much more after the intensity of Belton’s punishment. “I’ll scream, Master, when you make it hurt.”

  He chuckled, the sound low and wicked. “Is that so?” He trailed the whip along her spine as he returned to his earlier position. Then he struck her in earnest for the first time. The tails fanned out across the fullness of her ass cheek, creating a penetrating thud of pain.

  She moaned, then smiled as the sensation traveled through her body. Her brain released endorphins, causing a sweet rush of tingles in her mind as well as her body. He swatted the other side, and she yelped. He spanked her bottom and the backs of her legs, occasionally snapping the insides of her thighs. She gasped and hissed, lost in a haze of pleasure/pain.

  Suddenly, a much sharper impact snapped across both cheeks at once, dragging a startled cry from her throat. She pushed up with her arms and looked back to see how he’d created the harsh sensation. He held the shaft horizontally now, using it as a cane.

  Oh, God. She turned back around and relaxed against the table with a whimper, excited yet terrified. He obviously knew what he was doing, but this hurt worse than anything she’d ever endured before. He alternated stingy slaps with intense snaps from the brutal shaft. She screamed each time he used the rod, unable to suppress the anguished sound. Soon her entire bottom and the back of her thighs throbbed from his flogging, and her poor ass cheeks were a solid mass of pain, set afire by the punishing rod.

  He paused, lightly brushing his fingers over her abused bottom. “Are you finished spying for your sister?”

  “Yes, Master. Of course.”

  He pushed his hand between her thighs and caressed her soaked folds. “Will you trust us to keep you safe and happy?”

  “Yes, my love.” She whispered the endearment, so ready for the pain to end. He continued to caress her, but said nothing, so she dared to ask, “Are you done?” The hopeful catch in her tone made her cringe.

  “When you have been adequately chastised, I will tell you to get up.”

  “Yes, M-master.” She let go of the handles and flexed her fingers, waiting to see what he’d do next.

  “Does Belton need to take the plug out while I finish disciplining you? He offered you a break if you need one.”

  “No, Master. The outside of my bottom hurts much worse than the inside.”

  He chuckled again. “And yet you screamed louder for him. Let’s see if we can remedy that. You have been such a good girl so far, I give you permission to come.”

  It was the only warning she got before he brought the strands up between her legs. Fire seared into her pussy, eclipsing the pain in her behind. She screamed so loudly that the shrill sound echoed off the walls.

  “So much better.” He slapped her pussy again and again, alternating lighter impacts with fast, sharp snaps.

  She swung her hips and shifted her weight from knee to knee, back arching as pulses of pain ricocheted through her body.

  “Come, sweet slave. Let your next cry be from pleasure.” With diabolical skill, he centered his next strike over her clit.

  She threw back her head and screamed as brutal pleasure burst inside her. Her core pulsed, tightening her back passage around the plug, which intensified the fire in her ass. She came and came, shuddering and shaking while lights danced in front of her eyes. Moxtel replaced the whip with his fingers, prolonging the torturous orgasm. She bucked and moaned, ravaged by her long-denied climax.

  Her body was still trembling when Belton lifted her from the bench. She sobbed, lost in the euphoric rush of sensation only achieved through this level of pain. He lay down with her, carefully placing her on her side. Moxtel pressed in behind her, and she gasped. Moxtel never participated in aftercare. He delegated comfort of any kind to Belton. They stroked her unmarked skin, kissing her and whispering tender words of praise and encouragement.

  She floated, lost in a surreal realm where nothing existed but sensation and emotion.

  “Rest, sweet slave,” Moxtel whispered. “You’ve more than earned it.”

  “Don’t leave me.” She reached back, afraid he was about to crawl off the bed.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Moxtel assured her. “You’re stuck with both of us now, forever and always.”

  Soothed by the vow and the discomfort echoing through her body, she relaxed in the embrace of her mates and slept.

  * * *

  “If we don’t claim her soon, I’m going to lose my fucking mind,” Belton whispered two hours later, not wanting to disturb their sleeping mate.

  Moxtel smiled. “She’ll need a long soothing shower before she’s ready for more. Probably multiple cycles.”

  Belton looked down the length of her elegant back and cringed when he saw her bottom. The generous ivory curves were still striped with pink welts. The lighter marks caused by the loose ends of the broxnor had faded, but a couple of the horizontal lines would likely bruise. Even with a soothing shower, she’d likely feel this tomorrow. Moxtel only used the implement when especially harsh punishment was necessary. This situation certainly qualified.

  “She still has to choose us before we can claim her,” Moxtel reminded after a long pause.

  “I’m well aware.” He pulled her a little closer, feeling particularly protective with her snuggled against his side. “Do you think that will be a problem?”

  “It shouldn’t be, but Lorna can be unpredictable.”

  “Lorna can hear you,” she said without opening her eyes.

  Belton smiled and stroked her hair back from her face as her lids fluttered open. “It annoys you when we speak telepathically. I was trying to avoid further conflict.”

  Slowly rolling to her stomach, she pushed up to her forearms so she could see them. “You said you want to bond with me. I know what that means to the Ventori. Is it the same with the Yashonty?”

  “Similar, but not the same,” Moxtel told her. “The Yashonty mating bond only becomes permanent if a child completes the circuit, so to speak.”

  “I will need to have a baby with each of you for us to be permanently bonded?”

  Belton didn’t understand her uneasiness. “We fully intend to spend the rest of our lives with you, and we fervently hope you feel the same about us. But I thought this would please you. The bond creates a mental and emotional connection right away. However, it can be dissolved until a child is created by the union. This gives you time to make sure this is what you really want.”

  “And we will do everything in our power to endure you come to that conclusion, of course,” Moxtel warned her.

  “Of course,” she echoed with a soft smile.

  “The answer to your question is no,” Moxtel clarified. “Regardless of how many individuals are linked, if one of the males impregnates one of the females, it anchors the link for all.”

  “Did polyamorous marriages exist on Yashontara before the massacre?”

  The human term made Belton smile. “We are talking about mating bonds. Our people have always been free to love whomever they please, but permanent links are about survival of the species. Emotionally binding the parents as closely as possible provides the best environment for the offspring.”

  Something about his explanation bothered her. She stared down at the bed for a time, silent
and still, then she looked at him and asked, “This permanent link is only available to biological parents?”

  Moxtel scooted back as he sat up, leaning against the cabin partition. “We did not design the way the link works. It’s an evolutionary adaptation of our physiology.”

  “But it’s so unfair to anyone unable to have biological children.”

  “I happen to agree with you,” Belton told her. “None of the influential beings in my life were blood relatives. Unfortunately, my personal experience doesn’t change scientific facts.”

  “Fine.” She sighed, the tension in her shoulders lessening. “Let’s keep this focused on us. If I accept you guys as my protectors, will you be able to read my mind and feel my emotions immediately?”

  “I can do that already,” Moxtel reminded, clearly struggling with her hesitation.

  “The link will allow you to sense us,” Belton told her. “But thoughts must be sent and received. It won’t give us unrestricted access to your mind.”

  “Though I have that now,” Moxtel persisted. “You are safe because I love you and would never violate anyone like that—unless there was a damn good reason.” He swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood, staring down at her, his gaze troubled. “Either you trust us or you don’t. It’s as simple as that.”

  She tried to sit but hissed and ended up resting her weight on her hip. Now her back was to Belton, so he quickly sat up also.

  “I trust you,” she stressed. “I trust you both. I’m just trying to understand what all this means. Things don’t happen this fast on Earth. My head is spinning, and my butt is really sore. It’s hard to decide something this serious with all of that going on.”

  Moxtel sighed, then nodded. “Let’s get you soothed, so you can think more clearly about the decision.” He looked at Belton. “She’ll need at least two cycles in the shower. Take her in first, and I’ll go calm down.” He left slower than usual, but he still walked out.

  Belton placed his hand on Lorna’s shoulder, knowing she’d be upset. “He’s trying, love. This is really hard for him.”