Adventures in Sugarland

by M J Marstens

  She looks torn, but eventually walks off with her stepbrother. Plumsley and I keep a wary eye on her and the little prick.

  “What do you make of Anise?” Plumsley asks, breaking the silence.

  “It’s hard saying. She’s from The Savory Citadel, but her eyes tell a different story. A very different story.”

  “They’re certainly a unique purple, brighter than a ripe sugarplum. Maraschino had purplish eyes, too.”

  “We expected that. All reigning kings and queens from her land have that distinguishing feature, but that’s not to say it’s an uncommon eye color in The Savory Citadel.”

  “True. We haven’t encountered many Savories.”

  I ponder our words as I watch Graham get more and more agitated with whatever he and Anise are arguing over. I suppose I can hazard a guess. Suddenly, Anise’s stepbrother spins on his heel and marches off into the forest. A look of profound sadness washes over Anise’s face, and I squelch the urge to run after the pompous little cocksucker and make him grovel at her feet.

  Their collars alone tell me that they have suffered unbelievably, but I can see Graham’s scars. Anise’s skin is flawless, meaning her scars are on the inside, and those almost always tend to be deeper, more vicious, and take forever to heal. If they ever do, that is.

  Graham shouldn’t be talking to and treating Anise like this.

  Anise watches Graham’s retreating back, and then, she steels her spine.

  I look on, intrigued.

  Maybe she’s made of stronger stuff than I’m giving her credit for.

  She turns away from her stepbrother and walks back to Plumsley and me.

  “We had a disagreement,” she explains quietly. “Graham wishes for us to go our separate ways and find the king on our own, but I don’t want to. We don’t know this land like you two do. What could take us weeks might take us days with you both helping. At this point, I just want to get this collar off and go home.”

  Something inside of me tightens at the thought of her leaving, but I can understand her need to return home. Again, I wonder how long she’s been gone. I want to ask, but I know better than to pry. I’ll get my answers soon enough.

  When the time is right.

  ANISE

  “Don’t let your brother walk all over you. He might be older, but that doesn’t make him the boss,” Plumpy cautions.

  “It’s not that. . .” I hedge.

  How do I explain to these men that I like it when Graham talks to me like that?

  It doesn’t make me a doormat because I fight back, but something dark and delicious comes to life when my stepbrother uses that certain tone of voice.

  It infuriates me, as well as titillates me.

  “She likes it,” Pepper comments astutely, watching my face closely.

  I avert my gaze, but still feel exposed, so I turn my back, pretending to search for Graham.

  “He can’t go far. The woods end at the Icing Ocean. Let him cool off. In the meantime, we can talk, sugartits.”

  I swallow.

  I don’t want to talk. There’s no knowing what trouble my wayward mouth will get me into. I’ve been silent for so long; I’m bound to unleash a torrent of words now that the dam’s broken. So I purse my lips together tightly.

  Pepper grins, as if my forced silence is a challenge, and he’s taken up the gauntlet.

  “Tell me, Anise, how long were you and Graham “guests” of Maraschino’s?” he asks.

  I give no response.

  “Why did she collar you?”

  Again, I keep my lips sealed.

  Pepper looks torn. I can tell he wants to keep questioning me, but I can also tell he doesn’t want to pry too much. He’s trying to toe the delicate line between the two, and I can tell from his face, he’s going to back off.

  Phew.

  I win.

  I feel a gloating smile stretch across my face before I can stop myself and instantly regret it, as a fire lights in Pepper’s reddish-brown eyes.

  Uh-oh.

  I know that look.

  It’s sheer determination.

  It’s the look Graham had on his face when he charged Mari, and then broke through her magical chains and knocked her unconscious.

  “Don’t want to answer my questions, eh sugartits? Perhaps it’s because I haven’t offered any incentives,” Pepper muses.

  “Are you proposing what I think you’re saying?” murmurs Plumpy

  “Two for one?”

  “And one for all?”

  I look at both men, trying to follow their strange conversation. Both mutter, ‘agreed’ and shake on it, before turning back to me. Their faces bear intense expressions that both frighten and arouse me. What the hell just happened?

  “Back to our questions,” Pepper picks back up, baffling me even more.

  I don’t say anything because I genuinely don’t know how to reply.

  I’m too confused.

  “Now, my first question was how long were you and Graham with Mari?”

  I raise an eyebrow, not impressed.

  Suddenly, I feel Plumpy against my back, as he pulls me tightly to his chest.

  “If you answer him, I’ll kiss you again,” Plumpy purrs in my ear.

  Everything goes a little fuzzy at these words.

  A part of me demands my silence, but the other part, the bigger part, demands I answer. Plumpy’s kiss was heavenly, and I want more of it.

  “Two years,” I blurt out without thinking.

  Before I can react, Plumpy tilts my head back and to the side, then latches his mouth over mine and feasts. I feel this kiss to my soul and it freaking consumes me whole. I never knew kissing could be like this, so raw and animalistic. I sound rabid, as I growl into Plumpy’s lips, begging for more.

  I try to turn myself in his arms, but he holds fast and breaks the kiss far too soon for my liking. I mewl like a pathetic Sapid.

  “Beautiful,” Pepper injects, his eyes aflame from watching Plumpy and me.

  I blush, wondering how sinful we must look together, but then I remember my anger at the man.

  “Happy now, Pepper?” I ask acerbically, angrier at myself and loss of control.

  Instantly, Pepper pulls me from Plumpy’s arms and bends me over a nearby tree stump. His hand whistles through the air and lands on my presented derrière. I shriek in protest, but it’s a false complaint. I love this. On the surface, it seems so demeaning, but I thrill at the feel of his big hands punishing me.

  “What?”

  Smack.

  “Did?”

  Smack.

  “You?”

  Smack.

  “Call?”

  Smack.

  “Me?”

  Two smacks for emphasis.

  My mind races to think what I did wrong and I realize I called him ‘Pepper’.

  “I-I-I’m sorry, Mr. Mint,” I babble, trying to keep my legs together so I don’t embarrass myself by having my wetness dribble down my legs.

  “Better,” Pepper barks, and lets me back up.

  I stumble into Plumpy’s arms and collapse, but he holds me up.

  “How do you know it was two years?” Pepper asks, continuing his ruthless quest for answers.

  I shrug.

  “Graham found a piece of kitchen chalk that he used to mark our time. In truth, it was just under two years.”

  Pepper grunts his approval and steps up to Plumpy and me.

  “Good. Honest girls get a sweet treat. An incentive for you to answer more questions truthfully and with respect.”

  Before I can even respond, Pepper directs Plumpy to pick me up by my legs. I let out an unattractive squeal as Plumpy spreads me before this domineering man. Only the purple fabric of my dress shields me from Pepper’s eyes.

  He reaches out and strokes my bared ankle, before pushing the dress higher and higher, until I’m exposed, quivering with need and apprehension.

  “So delectably pink,” Pepper comments. “I wonder if it tastes l
ike bubblegum.”

  “Best have a lick,” Plumpy encourages, his deep voice vibrating into my back and down to my dripping core.

  Pepper steps forward and swipes his tongue up and down my folds, before exploring their depths with it.

  Our simultaneous groans echo in the silence of the forest, but mine soon grow and crescendo over the treetops. For the first time, I’ve been given a choice. Even though these two men have orchestrated and control this entire scene, I know who’s really in charge here. I can tell by the way Pepper looks up at me from time to time, checking. And in how Plumpy holds me in his arms.

  There’s concern there.

  These two drop-dead gorgeous men are watching and listening for cues. It’s like they know me better than myself, and they adjust to meet my needs. I know if I wanted no part of it, a simple ‘no’ would be enough to end everything immediately.

  ‘No’ never worked with Mari.

  Nor did pleading, begging, or crying.

  In fact, those things all just made it worse as Mari is a true sadist.

  But not these men.

  My enjoyment is theirs.

  I shove Pepper’s face deeper between my legs and arch back in Plumpy’s arms to open myself further.

  “Yes,” I hear myself croon, over and over.

  Mr. Mint has found my sweet spot.

  GRAHAM

  I hate it.

  I hate how these two men look at Anise, and I fucking despise how she looks back at them.

  She’s mine.

  Always has been and always will be.

  It’s always been just the two of us, growing up together, practically alone in the world.

  I can’t stand the thought of someone taking her away.

  I’ve loved her for too long.

  If I can’t have her, fuck if anyone else can, because I do plan to have her.

  To take her.

  To claim her.

  I know I’m being childish and over-protective, but jealousy has reared its ugly head and demands I get Anise way from these men. Fuck them and their titles. They’re nothing but lords.

  I’m heir to a fucking throne, second only to a king.

  That makes me higher on the food chain.

  I don’t need them or anyone else.

  Just Anise.

  “Come with me. We need to talk,” I order gruffly to Anise, loathing myself for talking to her in such a way.

  I’m irritated at the Sugarland fucks, not my stepsister, but I can’t keep the vexation from my voice.

  I walk a short distance to ensure our privacy.

  “We don’t need them. We can simply get directions from Pepper and be on our way. I’m sure we’ll get to King Kandine’s castle in no time. Mari is exiled here; we have nothing to fear.”

  “That doesn’t mean the land isn’t dangerous,” Anise points out softly.

  “We’ve survived worse,” I point out.

  “Graham. . . I’m sick of being alone.”

  It feels like someone has punched me in the gut and I bend over at the waist, physically sick to my stomach.

  “Graham!” she cries in alarm, trying to reach out to me, but I hold up a hand to keep her at bay.

  “Alone? You feel alone?” I whisper savagely.

  I see her face pale, as she stammers a response.

  “I didn’t mean it like that, Graham-”

  “Every fucking time Mari used you, I was there. Every fucking time Mari broke you, I was there. Every. Fucking. Time.”

  I straighten up, my harsh breathing the only sound between us, and I see how my words have cut into her. This lust for her, this love for her, it’s tearing me up inside. I can’t think or act. I can’t see beyond my need to have her forever.

  I turn around in disgust and walk off before I say or do something I regret.

  I hate myself for loving her.

  She deserves better than her fucking stepbrother sniffing after her, even if I am in place to inherit a kingdom.

  I don’t go far. I don’t know these woods and I really don’t want to leave Anise with Lord Fuckplum and Mr. Cane Spanker, but I need a moment. I need to get my head in a better place. I can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to my stepsister. I need to make a decision. Either I need to let her go or claim her.

  Everything inside of me is urging me to do the latter.

  In fact, my heart is already set on it.

  It’s my foolish head that reasons against it.

  My Uncle would never approve.

  No one would.

  Can I really consign Anise to the life of an outcast?

  I heave a sigh.

  Escaping Mari’s hellish torture should have brought relief to me, but I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. I need to go back and apologize for acting like a cur. My actions have no excuse and my Uncle would be appalled.

  I walk back silently, enjoying the light breeze that ruffles my dark hair. My boots don’t make a sound as they step on the soft pine needles that cover the ground. I see the candy cane path ahead, and I know I’m close to where we were originally.

  I veer a little to the right and loop through some more trees and then stop abruptly.

  Sweet fuck, Anise is sandwiched between Plumpy and Pepper. The former is holding my stepsister aloft by her thighs, spreading her legs wide, and the latter has his fucking face buried in Anise’s sweet cunt.

  Something fierce and primal rushes through my body at the sight. I want to kill these men, tear them limb from limb. How fucking dare they touch my stepsister?! Especially with knowing we’ve been with Mari, the sadist ex-queen of Sugarland!

  A small part of my brain councils me to calm down.

  I can’t harm these men.

  Hell, I owe one of them my life and Anise’s, but that doesn’t give them the right to touch my sister.

  I need to stop this, yet for some reason I’m rooted in my spot, watching.

  How long have I been a voyeur, always gazing through the window, but never allowed to participate?

  It feels like fucking forever.

  I’ve yearned for Anise since long before Mari ever trapped us in her clutches. It started in my early teens and only grew worse with each passing year. I thought it was something that would pass with time and other women, but the opposite happened.

  As I grew older, my need for Anise grew stronger and other women simply became repugnant. Their hair wasn’t a perfect plait. Their eyes nowhere near the stunning color of my stepsister’s. Every woman fell short, so I finally gave up and watched Anise instead.

  Like a fucking creep, I stalked her from the shadows of my Uncle’s castle, threatening any man who came to close to her.

  Everyone thinks I’m just the over-protective, caring brother, not the fucking pervert who gets off to watching his sister.

  Like I am now.

  Because underneath the breeches Plumpy loaned me, I’m harder than stone.

  Watching the three of them makes my balls ache.

  I can’t figure out why it’s such a turn-on to see Anise with these men, but I blame it on years of watching her with Mari. Plumpy is nuzzling his face into the side of Anise’s neck and even at a distance, I can see him gyrating his hips. The purple-haired fucker looks like he’s ready to explode.

  Pepper, on the other hand, seems much more controlled.

  He’s on his knee between my stepsister’s spread thighs, and he hasn’t come up for air the entire time I’ve been watching. I wish he would move his face from her pussy so that I could see her lovely pink folds. The image of them is seared into my brain but it will never be enough.

  I turn my gaze to Anise and feel my jaw go slack.

  In all our time with Mari, I’ve never seen Anise like this.

  Back arched, mouth agape, she’s literally fucking the caner’s face, shoving his tongue deeper into her snatch with every thrust.

  Occasionally, Mari would let Anise come, but in those few times, it shredded my heart.

&nbs
p; I could see the turmoil inside of Anise at these times.

  I knew each orgasm ripped a piece of her soul apart because she felt the pleasure, loving it and hating it at the same time.

  That type of dichotomy is mentally and emotionally taxing on a person.

  But for the first time ever, I don’t see this split in emotions. Anise is one hundred percent enjoying what Plumpy and Pepper are doing to her. The look on her face sends chills down my spine.

  What would I give to be the one making her moan like this?

  Unconsciously, I slip a hand in down the front of my pants across my throbbing shaft, but it does nothing to alleviate the agony. In fact, it only makes it worse. Suddenly, Anise’s moans turn to shouts and her hips pump faster and faster into Pepper’s mouth. My hand finds the same rhythm on my cock, and together we ride this storm of desire.

  Just as I’m about to come, Anise beats me to it. As she crests, her eyes fly open, wide in shock.

  And lock with mine.

  So many emotions flit through them, and it’s my fucking name she screams in pleasure.

  ANISE

  There are no words.

  Pure sensation floods my body as I come for the first time of my choosing. No one is forcing me; Pepper and Plumpy have given me this priceless gift.

  I know it’s a gift because I can sense the need to dominate in these men, especially Pepper. Hell, he admitted it; he said that he and King Kandi are master doms.

  I rotate my hips up and around, nearly pulling out of Plumpy’s arms as I feel my body come apart. My eyes are screwed tightly shut but something compels me to open them, and when I do, my gaze crashes into my stepbrother’s. He’s standing at the edge of the path, partially shadowed by the pines, and his hands are down his pants.

  I feel my eyes widen in shock.

  Some distant part of me computes this man likes what he sees, and my heart bursts at the thought. Unconsciously, I cry out Graham’s name as the last luscious ripples course through my sensitive body. As I come down from my high, a hush falls over the four of us. Graham has taken his hand out from his pants, but I can still see the erect outline of his cock, and I shudder.

  The movement seems to break the spell.

  Plumpy sets me on my feet gingerly as Graham comes stomping over, his eyes full of fire.