Darkness In The Flames

by Kelly, Sahara

  Chapter Ten

  The chamber to which the two men escorted Thérèse was starkly bare of furniture with the exception of a long wooden box bench along one wall. What caught her attention were the chains dangling silently from the beamed ceiling. Smeared sooty stains marred the joists, evidence of the fire that smoldered in the depths of the hearth. Two sconces above the plain mantel held tapers that Dark carefully lit, yet these did nothing to ease the somber and menacing atmosphere of the room.

  The sun was already setting, so little in the way of light filtered through the grimy opening high in the stone wall.

  Adding to the menace was the continued silence of her two captors. They had led her here without further conversation and now were efficiently closing the door, lighting the tapers and removing their outer jerkins—all without comment.

  Uncertain, Thérèse stood quietly, waiting for what might come next. She managed to choke down her surprise when both took off their shirts, heedless of the rippled muscles and gleaming bodies they revealed.

  One by one they sat on the bench and toed off their riding boots, arranging them neatly beside shirt and jacket, one tidy pile for each man. When they stood and reached for the fasteners on their breeches, Thérèse finally broke the silence.

  “Sirs, please. I do not understand this at all. Pray cease your actions. I would not have you remove any more of your clothing.” She tried to sound calm and collected, suppressing the quiver she knew threatened her composure.

  “God made us. He knows what we look like. That is all that matters.” Grey spoke matter-of-factly, dropping his breeches to the floor and stepping out of them.

  Dark, as before, followed. They were both naked now, naked and aroused.

  Thérèse could not help looking at them, even though the heat of a blush warmed her face. They were well built, handsome and solid, both ignoring the cocks thrusting from their bodies.

  Confused by the desire they revealed, Thérèse frowned, then sucked in air as they approached her and ripped her clothes from her body, untying her bonds at the same time. Her freedom was transitory, however. Within seconds her wrists were re-chained, pulled high above her head and clamped by manacles attached to the chains.

  She was now as naked as her captors, restrained by bonds she could not escape, open to the surveillance two pairs of eyes. Helpless, she stared at them, breasts thrust forward by her stance, feet barely managing to stay firmly on the floor.

  She was stretched taut, her arms linked above her, the iron biting into the soft skin of her wrists if she dared let her weight rest on them. Tense and embarrassed, she dropped her gaze to the floor and let her hair fall forward, hiding her shame at being stripped bare before strangers.

  Grey stood before her, letting his stare wander where it would, lingering on her breasts and pussy. She peered from beneath her eyelashes, wondering at the stirring of his hard cock.

  “Are you a witch?” Dark growled the question from behind her, startling her.

  “No.” Thérèse answered firmly, pouring all the certainty she still possessed into the one word of denial.

  A sharp slap echoed around the chamber as Dark’s hand lashed across her buttocks. She cried out in shock—once. Then clenched her teeth and vowed to make no more sounds. She would not permit them to know they frightened her, or hurt her. To do so would be to give them power over her.

  Grey moved close, lowering his hand to her mound and running his fingers through the curls to find her pussy. He stroked her, learning her and—in spite of her fears—starting a tiny curl of excitement within her belly.

  “Soft.” He muttered the word. “Are you a witch?”

  “No.” Once more she repeated her denial and once more a sharp slap rang out. Dark had smacked her again sending hot blood rushing to the skin of her backside. Ready this time, Thérèse swayed with the blow in silence, although gulping as the movement pushed her further onto Grey’s exploring fingers.

  “She’s wet.” Grey’s voice was impersonal, yet Thérèse could see his cheeks color a little as he fondled her. His eyes met hers briefly, a flash of contact, no more than a second, but it was enough for her to catch a quick impression of heat behind his gaze.

  He withdrew his hand, lifting his fingers to his nose. “And scented—like cream and flowers.”

  “The Devil’s work.” Dark murmured the words. “As are these.” Arms surrounded her, Dark’s hands reaching for her breasts and lifting them. “Too perfect. Too tempting for any mortal man to resist.”

  Again Thérèse fought for control as Dark kneaded and cupped her breasts in a strong grip, finally finding her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. He squeezed and tugged on them, playing her like a master fiddler with a fine instrument. Always sensitive there, Thérèse could not repress a moan as her body flooded with desire.

  “I would taste this Devil’s honey.” Grey knelt on the floor and gripped her thighs, roughly parting her legs and pulling her pussy toward his face.

  “Be cautious. She may bespell you.” Dark spoke but did not cease his play with Thérèse’s breasts. “She cast her wiles over Montreaux.”

  “I did nothing, I tell you. Nothing.”

  The words were wrenched from her throat past the lump of lust building there. These two men knew a woman’s body—knew how to arouse it and probably how to use it as well.

  “You made enemies. Powerful enemies.” Dark pinched one nipple then the other. “That was your mistake, witch.”

  Grey nodded then leaned forward, burying his face in her pussy, licking ferociously at her juices.

  Beside herself, Thérèse could not help but cry out in pleasure. She struggled within her bonds, only to find her wrists chafed harshly by the manacles and her breasts clamped tight within Dark’s hands.

  She could only hang there and endure the rapid movements of Grey’s tongue as he found her clit, smeared her liquids over her sensitive flesh and sent shivers of horrified delight from her scalp to her toes.

  It was a sensual torture she would have fought, tooth and nail, had not her body eagerly welcomed the attentions. Her innate sensuality relished the treatment, responding with natural pleasure and arousal to the two men.

  The pain caused by her chains, the stinging that even now lingered in her buttocks—all contributed to the heightened awareness that flooded Thérèse.

  When Grey lifted her thighs to rest on his shoulders, she moaned. When he delved into her sex with his tongue, she whimpered. And when Dark pulled her roughly into his chest, twisted her head around and kissed her, she almost surrendered.

  His mouth was cool but his lips parted hers rapidly, his tongue mimicking the actions of the other man as he plunged deeply past her teeth to duel with her. She was twisted between them, trapped, excited by this savage play and trembling now with the onrush of a climax she knew was building deep in her sex.

  Dark ripped his mouth from hers. “Not yet.”

  Grey pulled away from her pussy slowly, licking his lips. “’Tis sweet indeed. Clean and sweet.” He looked past her at Dark. “You first?”

  She felt Dark’s head as he nodded. “Very well.”

  Once again her feet touched the floor and she staggered a little as both men withdrew their support. Dark came around her while Grey replaced him behind her. It gave her a moment to catch her breath and fight down the desires shimmering through her.

  Thérèse was stunned at her responses. How could she react so willingly to her inquisitors? How was it that even under these circumstances a woman’s body could moisten and heat to such levels?

  Her attempt to control her emotions evaporated as a sharp pain lashed across her buttocks making her gasp once more. This was no smack from a hand, this was a blow from a leather strap of some sort.

  Pain and heat mingled across her ass, intensified as Grey pulled her against him and rubbed his cock along the cleft between her cheeks. Dark watched for a moment or two, no expression on his face but a flicker of something in his eyes. Then
he reached for her and pushed her tumbled hair to one side of her neck, baring her shoulder to his gaze.

  Grey took advantage, nipping the soft skin where it curved upward toward her face. “Did you let Montreaux take you here?” Hardness pushed between her buttocks finding the tight muscles hidden within. “Did you, witch? Did you let him take this virginity too?”

  She stifled a sob along with her memories of Simon and his betrayal, merely nodding.

  “Pity. I would like to have been your first.” Grey found her pussy once more, spreading the honey all over her this time, paying attention to her ass.

  “Please, no…” Vainly, Thérèse protested. “I do not wish for this. I am not a witch.”

  “Are you not?” Dark’s question was casual. “Your body certainly betrays all the lustful responses of a witch.” He reached for her breasts, swollen and reddened already from his attentions. “These are too beautiful for a mortal woman.”

  “Here.” Grey passed something over her shoulder to Dark and Thérèse felt her eyes widen at the sight of a short riding crop with a soft trail of leathers on the end.

  “Ah, thank you.” Dark took it and flicked it over one nipple. “Yes. Very good. Very good indeed.”

  Grey’s cock remained pushed against her cleft, touching nerves that were already tingling and alive from his spankings. Dark moved his wrist lightly catching her other nipple with the leather thongs, harder this time.

  “Oh God—” Thérèse bit off the cry almost before it was uttered.

  More lashes followed, each a little harder than the one before, making her breast sting and throb with a pain that should have been insufferable. Yet in spite of the punishment, Thérèse felt the overwhelming rise of her body’s passionate response as it took the pain and turned it into a fire of need burning within her.

  “So hot.” Dark whispered the words as he bent to suckle one reddened nipple deeply into his mouth.

  The sensation of his wet tongue against her sensitive and abused flesh drove Thérèse nearly mad and her hips moved urgently, searching for the relief only these two men could provide.

  They drove her higher and higher, Grey’s teeth grazing her skin along the muscles of her neck and shoulder as his cock began to ease inside her ass, an agonizingly slow process that stretched her to her limits.

  Then he withdrew again, a movement that nearly brought tears of frustration to her eyes. “You must do it now.” He spoke roughly from behind her, his hands fastening hard on her hips.

  Dark stepped back from her breasts and nodded. “Indeed I must. Let’s see if this Devil’s tool can take me. ‘Twill be proof of her guilt if she can.”

  Thérèse’s gaze dropped to Dark’s cock, huge and flared, seeping drops of his own arousal from the tiny slit on its head. He was enormous, just how big she’d not realized until this moment.

  Until he let Grey lift her from the floor.

  Dark pushed her thighs apart, stepping between them and anchoring them on his hips. He stared at her pussy then grasped his cock and sought the entrance to her darkness, rubbing himself into her moisture, sheathing his length with her honey.

  “She’s hot. So hot. Her sheath leaks fire…” His voice trailed off as he found the right place—and thrust.

  The pain from her chained wrists, the sting of her nipples—all vanished at the sensation of Dark’s huge cock penetrating her, filling her. Thérèse could sense her body swelling and expanding to take all of him, a frighteningly wonderful flowering of her sheath to accept the intrusion of a lover.

  And yet this was not a lover. Neither of these men were lovers. They were her torturers—her inquisitors—with no other goal than to make her confess to witchcraft.

  Dark moved, plunging deeply into her sex then sliding out, only to thrust back once more. He set up a rhythm that Grey countered by moving her to meet Dark’s thrusts, a counterpoint to his penetration and withdrawal that enhanced her arousal.

  She tried to throw her head back and gasp for air, only to hit a rock-hard chest. “Confess, witch.” Grey urged her on, eyelids heavy and cheeks flushed as he watched his partner’s cock slide on a river of her liquids. “Confess or I shall be the next to fuck you. There will be no rest for you until you say the words.”

  “I…” Thérèse choked out sounds, fighting for control over her voice. “I am no witch.”

  Dark groaned as he pounded into her and Grey’s fingers bit sharply into her flesh.

  “Shit. This is…” Dark’s muscles strained and sweat trickled down the side of his face. “Fuck.”

  “Do it, man. Do it…” Grey urged him on, his cock a leaden weight against her buttocks, his breath hot in her ear.

  Thérèse trembled, battered by the men and her own body’s betrayal.

  For that was truly what it was. Her innate sensuality had ridden roughshod over the punishment, the lashes, the pain and the eventual penetration of her body. Her desire for such passion had swamped the fear she should have been experiencing.

  Her soul ached for this, relished this, enjoyed this with all that she was. She loved sex and the feelings of desire it awoke within her. If that made her a witch, then God help her, perhaps she was a witch.

  Or perhaps she was just a woman who loved to fuck.

  Whatever thoughts she had disappeared as she exploded.

  Massive spasms of pleasure brought a cry of fulfillment to her lips and she felt herself clench hard around Dark’s cock as he gave way and pumped himself into her on a guttural shout of completion.

  She arched her spine in Grey’s hold, a taut and quivering mass of muscles that orgasmed throughout her body, totally involving her in the sensation and lasting for long minutes of exquisite ecstasy.

  Finally she sagged, the pain in her wrists now becoming sharp and pulling her back from the whirlpool of passion that had nearly drowned her.

  Dark let his cock slide free and ignored the fountain of their liquids that poured from her body.

  Grey released her, likewise ignoring the consequences of Dark’s fucking. He merely raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Well?”

  Dark stared back. “She took me. All of me.”

  “I saw.”

  “She may well be a witch. I can scarce remember coming that deep in a woman before.” Dark shrugged. “Perhaps you should try her. Make your own decision.”

  Thérèse tried hard to understand these two men, but before she could fully comprehend their conversation, the chains were lowered and she staggered as her feet took her full weight for the first time in what seemed like hours.

  Still clamped within the manacles, she was dragged to the side of the room and reattached to a ring in the wall, this time leaning over the box bench.

  Grey kicked her ankles apart and grasped her buttocks. “I believe I will.”

  *~*~*~*

  Gasping for breath, Thérèse found herself once more in the erotic hold of these two men. A hard cock nudged its way between her cheeks as hands gripped her hips to hold her steady.

  Still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, she shuddered as Grey found the sensitive spot lurking there and teased it, rubbing himself around, slicking liquids over her flesh to ease his passage within.

  Dark watched for a moment or two, then shrugged and sat on the bench. “I might as well assist you.” Thoughtfully he reached for her breasts. “I’ve always possessed a weakness for breasts. These are nothing short of magnificent.”

  Cupping them once more, he fondled her, surprising Thérèse with the gentleness of his touch. It was as if his lust, now sated, was content with the feel of her nipples or perhaps the weight of her breasts. Bent over the bench, they swung away from her chest, a soft lure Dark seemed unable to resist. Whatever it was, she responded to it, the passion simmering strongly within her, kept fueled by the continual attentions of both Grey and Dark.

  Grey grunted as he settled himself firmly behind her and began penetrating her darkness. Tense and still nervous, Thérèse was initially resi
stant, but perhaps Grey sensed it or simply preferred to linger over this pleasure. Whatever his reasons, he took his time, easing his grip on her and beginning to stroke her spine, long drifts of a hard palm up and down her back, soothing and arousing her simultaneously.

  Coupled with Dark’s teasingly soft touches to her breasts, Thérèse lost herself, lost control of her body and surrendered to Grey’s invasion, relaxing into his petting touches and opening to admit him.

  She shivered with arousal as once more the fires of passion flamed high. Only minutes after her first release she knew another would be upon her if they maintained their caresses like this.

  It appeared they were quite content to do that very thing. When Dark leaned down and replaced his hands with his mouth, she moaned. The tugging suckle on her nipples resounded down to her groin and her ass, stimulating her all over again and making Grey’s entrance a thing of pleasure to be welcomed.

  His groan was an indistinct sound, blending with the other sounds that the three made as they took their pleasure. That she was contributing to these sounds did not escape Thérèse but—ever aware of her sexual nature—she could not deny the sensations rising rapidly from her toes to her scalp. They were too skilled at what they did, too clever with their fingers, their tongues and their cocks.

  Grey thrust deep, stretching and filling her, touching nerve endings with the right amount of hardness and heat. “Are you a witch?”

  The question almost caught her by surprise, so lost was she in the sexual arousal they were generating.

  “No. No, I am…not a witch…” Her words were faint, breathless, forced from her lips in time with Grey’s thrusts into her ass.

  “God help me…” Grey muttered beneath his breath as he took her, his body a hard wall against her backside.

  “Only a witch could taste like you.” Dark’s mouth let a nipple pop loose then reclaimed it, sucking harder, teasing with his tongue much as his fingers teased the other breast.

  “I am lost.” It was Grey, tensing and plundering her deeply, freezing into immobility and buried to his balls inside her.

  “Come, wench. Give him your Devil’s passion.”