by Joey W. Hill
He had testicles that were well matched in size with the rest of his equipment, and they pressed against her brow as she serviced him. She inhaled cologne, soap, cotton, denim. Male.
The orgasm hit point-of-no-return, and she tried her best to stop it, to tell him, but her mouth had no room to form words. All she could do was clutch and claw at his hips, at the impossibly hard layers of muscle at his waist, as it shuddered through her body. When she screamed against him, she tasted another spurt of pre-come on her lips, his reaction to her pleasure. In the crazed spiral that was her mind, she wondered if he would come in her mouth, but instead he went still, holding her there, mouth penetrated as the climax shook and rocked her body.
Dana was coming again, too, her cries and the rippling of her tissues against Rachel’s adding to the barrage of sensations.
How many climaxes would they have before the night was over? It didn’t matter. She was a creature of responses alone, a submissive, a slave, something that needed no name other than being called her Master’s.
As she came down, her fingers were still clutched tight over Ben’s hips, her own hips raised so she was pressed tight against Dana’s pussy. The other woman lowered herself on trembling arms. Rachel took one hand away from her hold on Ben to wrap it around Dana’s shoulders as she laid her head on Rachel’s bosom, getting her breath back. Rachel curled her leg over Dana’s backside, holding her close.
While Rachel’s other hand stayed anchored to Ben, he slowly pulled out of her mouth, massaging her jaw and throat with heaven-blessed fingers. They stopped only for as long as it took him to readjust his clothing, then he took a seat, pulling his chair up close to stroke her hair, and resume the massage.
“Come here, little girl,” he said at last, speaking to Dana. “Time to take you back to Daddy.” Rachel noticed his voice was somewhat strained. She wondered why he hadn’t let himself go. Perhaps he was honoring Jon by enjoying his slave’s mouth but not completing himself in it, leaving that privilege to Jon. While the idea of Ben coming in her mouth was a sun-hot idea, she didn’t mind the idea that certain things were Jon’s right alone.
Dana made a compliant noise and shifted off Rachel. She stroked Rachel’s hip and side, a way of communicating affection while she used Rachel’s body to guide her to the edge of the table, where Ben adjusted to meet her. He lifted her, her arms and legs twining around his body as he carried her around the table and brought her to Peter, depositing her in his lap, where she curled up with a contented sigh.
“Hey, give me another beer while you’re up, Ben,” the ex-National Guard captain said, and Ben complied. Rachel only had a moment to wonder if she should remain where she was or go to the door again, or see if anyone else needed something, before her Master spoke.
“Come to me, Rachel. I want you to kneel at my feet for now.”
She rolled back to her hands and knees, and slipped off the edge of the table. Ben had returned, just in time to give her a hand down and a smile, before she moved on wobbly legs to Jon. She sank down next to him, leaning against his leg. It was one of her favorite places, her comfort zone as a submissive, and she closed her eyes, taking the pleasant respite.
It was an actual respite. For the next hazy time period, the men continued to play, but this time, the varying winners didn’t make any new demands on her or Dana. She liked it, listening to the men, their back and forth banter with one another.
From this position, she could see Peter holding Dana, because he had the chair pushed back. Dana’s fingers were fisted in his shirt, her face nestled against his broad chest. In another world, it would seem odd, the men playing poker so nonchalantly, a naked woman curled in the lap of one, while she knelt at the side of another. But in their world, it was normal. And perfect.
Jon’s hand never left her. Stroking her hair, her bare shoulder. After a while, she didn’t focus much on the words, just the rise and fall of the male voices. Until Lucas tossed out a name that caught her attention, since she loved Cassandra’s siblings.
“Don’t forget, Marcie graduates officially soon,” Lucas commented. “They’re mailing her diploma, since extending her internship period changed her graduation date. Graduation gifts sent to her co-op address in Milan will soothe any regrets she has about not graduating with her classmates.” He added that part with a smile.
“Does she seem like that’s bugging her?” Ben asked.
“No,” Lucas assured him. “She told Cass on their last phone call she was glad you talked her into that. She’ll be able to tell you herself when she comes home. She’s be returning to the States after the Milan job is done. She’s just trying to figure out when that will be.”
Peter sighed. “Seems like only yesterday she was crushing on you, Ben. They grow up too fast. Well, she did. Jury’s out on you.”
Ben made a face at him. “Give the kid a break. I wasn’t a crush. She was too old for kids her own age, so I was her very platonic friend who knew the stuff they didn’t, but she already did.”
“There was nothing platonic on her end of things,” Lucas observed. “If I didn’t trust you alone with her, you’d have been in serious trouble. She looked at you like you were the sun and moon, all wrapped up in one.”
“Even if that’s remotely true, she went to college and found out I was a disqualified planet, like Pluto,” Ben said lightly. “She hasn’t written me regularly in over a year or two. Don’t bust my balls.”
Interestingly, Rachel thought she detected some regret in Ben’s tone about Marcie’s lack of contact. She wasn’t surprised that it bothered him some.
Lucas was right. Ben had managed Marcie’s youth and her obvious attraction to him with an admirable degree of appropriateness. All while giving Marcie the older friend she needed, due to the challenges Cass and her siblings had faced in life. But, as odd as it sounded to say aloud, Rachel thought he had gotten a great deal out of his friendship with the teen as well. They’d seemed to click in an unexpected way.
The K&A lawyer didn’t form lasting romantic attachments with women. According to Jon, he usually only had hookups in his preferred BDSM clubs in New Orleans and Baton Rouge. If he had to have a date for a public function, he chose someone with whom it was obvious he had only a friendly or purely sexual relationship. Marcie’s older-than-her-years personality, combined with her being a “safe,” totally off-limits female, had provided Ben with the only close female friend Rachel knew of him having.
Just for fun, she imagined him and Marcie meeting a few years down the road, and was surprised when her imagination portrayed it as a romantic reunion. Even more surprising, it wasn’t as difficult as she’d expected to imagine Marcie and Ben together that way.
Rachel had seen recent photos from when Lucas and Cass had visited Marcie in Italy. She had morphed from a pretty teenager into a stunning young woman, sure to turn Ben or any man’s head. But was Marcie the type of woman who could handle the Dom side of Ben’s personality? The other women said he was a hardcore sadist, and now Rachel had direct proof of it. She’d seen it in the intensity of his gaze, the tightening of his lips, when he’d pushed down her throat. Though he’d stopped at the limits of what she could take, she’d felt his desire to take it further, maybe make her gag and beg for mercy around his cock.
While such a thought gave her an erotic shiver, that kind of edge play was only fantasy for her. She wasn’t sure what type of woman could ride that edge with Ben, while also giving him the emotional connection that Rachel sensed he needed in an equally extreme way.
She had no idea if Marcie had a submissive orientation like her older sister did. A lack of that would be a definite deal breaker for Ben, if ever he did consider a relationship.
“Gone to sleep down there?” Jon tousled her hair, stroking it back from her cheek. She shook her head, lifting her face to give him a smile.
“No, Master.”
His lips curved in response, those vivid blue eyes fastened on her. “Ready for more?”
&nbs
p; More? Her legs were like rubber, yet even if they gave out entirely, she’d want to give him whatever he demanded. So she nodded.
But those eyes also saw everything. His lips tightened, and she thought he might overrule her, give her an even longer break, but Ben helped them in the right direction.
“What do you know? I finally won a hand,” Ben said with great satisfaction. “And since I’m the only one who hasn’t had a turn, I’m taking it now. What I want will require me, Lucas and Matt to take a beer break in Matt’s office. Eventually.”
At Jon’s puzzled look, Ben flashed him a grin. “You gave me your sub’s gorgeous mouth, so I’m going to give you something in return. We need to turn the tables. Time for the good girl to give it to the bad girl—up the ass, remind her how to behave.”
“We’re going to take a beer break during that?” Lucas asked. “Did you have a head injury we missed?”
Ben grinned wider. “No, we hang for that part. Wild horses couldn’t tear us away. But after that gains some traction, it’s time to give Jon and Peter some relief. They’ll fuck their beautiful subs while Rachel is nice and deep inside Dana’s tight little butt.”
A strap-on? She was a sub, through and through. Rachel wasn’t sure if she could do that. Not the way Dana had done it, taking command of Rachel’s senses so easily.
“Rachel, come replenish the drinks before you teach Dana a lesson,” Matt said.
Jon’s hand was at her elbow, helping her to her feet. She looked at him, and he bumped her with his body as he nodded toward the bar. “Take care of them, and we’ll go from there,” he said quietly.
In short, trust him. Trust the situation.
As Rachel brought everyone a new drink, she realized Matt hadn’t requested that merely out of a desire to see a naked woman waiting on them again. Every Dom’s attention was upon her, appraising the steadiness of her movements, her strength. Her limbs were quivering a bit from the repeat orgasms, the stressful pleasures of the evening, but as she imagined the second part of Ben’s scenario, Jon inside her while she was inside Dana, and Dana straddling Peter’s cock, the flipflop of her stomach told her she still had fuel to give. So she tossed back her hair, and showed them that she wanted more.
Because she did. Which just proved she really was crazy.
When she brought Jon the refill of his drink, he’d retrieved the needed toy from somewhere. A curved, sleek pink dildo in a matching harness.
“It’s like guns these days. Fake dicks can come in girl colors,” Ben said.
“They shoot and fuck just as well as the manly-looking ones,” Lucas responded.
“Technically, some fake dicks can shoot, too. Jon’s made a couple good ones like that. Hasn’t he, Rachel?” Ben said.
“Yes, sir,” she responded immediately. “They’re wonderful. But I prefer him.”
“Now you’re just being nice to him,” Ben teased her. “We know boy genius’s inventions could put average dicks out of business.”
“There are none of those in this room,” Dana said staunchly.
“Kiss ass,” Ben told her. “They can see the truth in the mirror. Unless it’s one of those magnified ones.”
“Put your hands on my shoulders,” Jon ordered her, shrugging off the byplay, though she noticed an amused glint in his eyes. When she complied, he fitted the straps over her hips, between her legs. “When it’s time for me to be inside you, I’ll be getting that strap between your legs out of the way, but at that point you’ll be deep inside Dana and won’t need that stabilizing point.”
She wet her lips. “Yes, sir.”
Reaching up, he caressed her cheek. “Do you understand how to put it in her ass without hurting her?”
“Go slow. Don’t push, ease. And lubricate. I’m nervous,” she admitted in a whisper. “I’m not sure how to do it…like a Dom would.”
Jon stood, framing her face with both hands now. He tipped her chin so she was looking up at him. “You’re not a Dom, Rachel. You’re being ordered to fuck her by a Dom. Will you follow Ben’s commands? And mine?”
“Yes. Always.” She just wanted it to be pleasurable for Dana. But then she remembered how, when she was kissing Dana, or when their bodies were rubbing against one another, instincts had taken over, instinct and need. It would be all right. She just had to set her nervousness aside.
“You won’t need these now.” He eased off the nipple clamps, and massaged the tingling buds with his fingers as she swayed at the reaction. When he gathered her to him, she leaned against his body, her forehead to his shoulder, as he eased out the plug. Someone took it from him, because then he pressed his open palm against her lower back.
“Good girl. Now, walk over to Peter. He’ll give you her hand, and, from there forward until we say otherwise, you’re in charge of her.”
She moved in Peter’s direction. As she walked, she was conscious of the strap-on that had been bound against her, the pull of the straps over her hips and thighs as the phallus gently bobbed with her movements. It gave her a peculiar feeling, looking down at it just above the crevice between her legs. It rubbed against her clit in a distracting way.
When she reached Peter, she saw he’d removed Dana’s nipple jewelry as well, so she assumed he’d also taken out the plug. Lifting his hands from Dana, he laid them on the arms, clearing the field as Rachel reached forward tentatively and closed her hand on Dana’s. “Come with me onto the table,” she said, her voice soft.
Dana complied, rising from Peter’s lap with his help, her hands reaching for Rachel to hold onto her as she shifted and scooted onto the table. She stayed there, lifting a hand to seek and then find a strand of Rachel’s hair, twining it around her fingers playfully. “Where do you want me?”
“Matt’s end of the table,” Jon provided the answer to Rachel. “I’ll take you from a standing position. Peter will figure out how to get Dana on top of him.” He flashed a grin in Peter’s direction as Peter’s lips twisted with wicked confidence.
“I think I can manage that. My bad girl is easy to lift.”
Rachel was figuring out the logistics of how to get Dana to the other end when Peter produced a tether. “Attach it to her collar and walk her around on hands and knees,” he instructed. “Take the long way. I want to watch.”
Rachel took the leash in nerveless fingers and hooked it to Dana’s collar, the woman lifting her chin to make it easier. Rachel stroked her fingers through the waterfall of chains, whispered over the St. Christopher’s medal, and felt the weight of her own collar on her own throat.
Steadied by that, she put a hand on Dana’s side to guide her as they followed the perimeter of the table. The men rolled back their chairs to make it easy for her to do the full circle, moving away from Matt and circling the table to come back around to him.
Rachel noted a certain tension to Peter’s body, a focused attention in his gaze. She realized he didn’t necessarily feel comfortable trusting another to walk Dana along the table’s edge like that, so Rachel took extra care, putting pressure on Dana’s side to keep her at the same distance from it. She was pleased to see Peter relax when she was about halfway there, having proven her diligence.
“I wouldn’t let anything happen to her,” Rachel said impulsively, and the lines around Peter’s eyes creased with a smile.
“I know you won’t.”
“Hard as my head is, a tumble would do me no harm,” Dana said, though her voice was soft with affection for her Master’s protectiveness. “Especially on this soft carpet.”
“But if it did, more physical therapy,” Rachel reminded her, stroking her free hand along her shifting shoulder blades.
Dana made a sound of mock horror. “Ben can’t devise tortures as bad as that.”
“Really?” Ben said. “Maybe I’ll come mentor with Rachel.”
She smiled at their teasing, her nervousness about the challenge ahead lessening. Somewhat. As they reached Matt’s end of the table, he’d moved back like the others, a three o
r four-foot buffer that allowed her to position Dana where she wanted her, where Rachel was at the end of the table but Dana was facing toward the center.
“I need you to go to your elbows,” Rachel said. Then she thought about how Dana had taken over, and what Jon said, about her being in charge of Dana. Good girl teaching a bad girl a lesson. Dana would enjoy that. Would enjoy Rachel taking control.
Clearing her throat, she said it more brusquely. “On your elbows.”
Dana’s head cocked, and she complied, which lifted her backside up higher. Tight and round, with the shadowed folds of her sex visible through the almond-shaped opening between her thighs. Rachel remembered the last time she’d been in that position herself. Jon had wrapped a clinging plastic wrap around her thighs, making her pussy an even tighter fit as he worked his way into it. She’d orgasmed around him so intensely she’d almost blacked out.
She could do that to Dana if she had something to bind her with. It wasn’t the impulse of a Dom, she realized, but the impulse of a service sub, conscious of the regard of five Doms, and possessing an innate knowledge of what would please them. What would give Dana even more pleasure. Suddenly, Jon’s words made sense to her, giving her purpose and direction.
“I need something to bind her legs,” she said. She pivoted and bowed her head, lowering her gaze while her attention was obviously directed toward Matt, closest to her. “May I borrow your belt, sir?”
If he’d been wearing his usual suit, she would have asked for his tie, and gotten an erotic thrill from watching his long fingers loosen the knot, strip it from his neck. She didn’t think her other option was a bad choice though, because as he rose, unbuckled and stripped it from his waist, she had to wet a suddenly dry throat. Particularly when he doubled it and moved forward to give it to her, raising a hand to keep her in place. He didn’t want her to leave Dana unattended at the table, even the quick single step it would have required to close the distance between them.