An Undercover Submissive [Safeword LLC 5] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Peyton Elizabeth

  “Yes, I agree,” Lashe said, kneeling beside her head. “Look three windows over and two down. What do you see?”

  Trish whimpered, not wanting to but knowing that she had to. Her gaze connected with a shadow, outlined by the golden light shining from behind the stranger. Was he just standing there, looking at the street below, or was he actually looking up at what Sander and Lashe were doing to her. Mixed emotions balled up in her chest, but it was a tie between mortification and arousal.

  Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

  Sander’s spanking was starting to hurt. Her ass had gone from tender to smarting, to actually stinging. He didn’t let up this time either. Sander continued to alternate, but it almost felt as if he was smacking her harder.

  “Do you think that man knows you’re being punished or does he think you just like to be tied up and spanked?” Lashe asked, reaching up and brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “You’ve caught the attention of another person, although this time I think it’s a woman. Do you think she wants to trade places with you or do you think she’s ready to call the police? Do you think they have a right to know what we do in our spare time? Do they have the right to judge what turns you on?”

  “Nmmmm,” Trish cried out, trying to get her answer across. Her ass was now burning and, with every smack from Sander’s palm, felt as if it were magnified. Much to her embarrassment, her body was still responding. Could the people across the way see that or were they just seeing a woman being spanked? “Nmmmm.”

  No, these strangers didn’t have a right. The longer Sander spanked her, the more she understood what she’d done wrong. Being a journalist didn’t automatically give her a special clearance to delve into the private lives of her fellow citizens. As long as what they were doing didn’t hurt another person, it wasn’t anyone else’s place to judge. There was no story here and the longer her spanking wore on, the more her curiosity to find out who was in the Order waned.

  “Show me your hand, little minx,” Sander said, abruptly stopping. That seemed to hurt worse, as her ass felt like there were tiny prickles stabbing her flesh. Her pussy throbbed anyway. Trish whimpered again, wanting him to touch her, even if that meant more spankings. “Close your fingers if you are okay or hold up the appropriate fingers if you need to use your safe word.”

  Trish closed both hands tightly, letting them know that although this punishment seemed unorthodox to her, their point was made. She had hurt their feelings, and if she’d been in their shoes, she’d be angry as well. Loyalty meant something, especially within their Lifestyle. It was unfair and mean of her to do what she did. She wasn’t going to safe word.

  “Lashe, close the curtains.” Trish watched as the drapes in front of her were closed. What were they doing now? Was the scene over? The feeling of something cool dripping into her crevice gave her the answer she was seeking. She hadn’t realized she’d been shifting about on the mat until then. Trish knew what lube in that area meant and couldn’t believe they would take her there in this manner. “Your responses over this last week to anal play let us know that you’ll enjoy anal sex very much. In order for you to take our cocks there, you will need to be loosened and it will be in need of something much larger than just our fingers.”

  “Innnkmmoooeeeddddddd,” Trish said, starting to pull at her binds. It should be on the bed, she thought. What did he mean by loosen? Was he not going to take her there right now? Relief washed over her until she felt something at the ring of her muscle. “Aaaaoooonnnn.”

  “I can see we’re going to have to find you another gag,” Lashe said, leaning down in front of her again. He must have undressed without her knowing, because he was fully naked. Her eyes immediately lowered to take in his member. His cock was long and curved, with a thick vein running along the side. She had no doubt that he’d be able to relieve the deep ache that had taken up residence in her pussy. “My dick should do for now, until Sander can order one more appropriate. I’m thinking his idea of a gag is perfect for future scenes, as it will remind you that our lives are private.”

  As Lashe released the strap behind her head, Sander pushed something deeper inside of her ass. Trish knew immediately that it wasn’t his finger and tensed as much as she could, which wasn’t much of a hindrance considering her position. The second the ball was out, she cried out but not for long. Lashe replaced the gag immediately with his cock. His taste exploded on her tongue. She would have lifted her head to receive more, but the way she was bound didn’t give her any leeway. Trish whimpered as Sander kept inserting what she now knew to be a plug. She’d seen numerous submissives wear them around the club.

  “You’ll feel so full, little minx. It will be unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.” Sander seemed to stop and pull it out just a bit, before pushing it back in. The farther it went, the more her sphincter spread open. A slight sting began, but it couldn’t rival what her flesh was still feeling from her spanking. “Halfway in. Once you’re full back here, I’m going to sink my cock into your hot pussy. You took your punishment well. I think you deserve a reward.”

  With Lashe’s cock now at the back of her throat, Trish couldn’t respond. She was in full agreement though, and the minute he said those words, spasms ripped through her cunt. She felt the ripples in her ass, which made the stinging smart more. As Sander pushed the plug in farther, she found herself changing her mind about her skin hurting worse. The burn he was creating brought tears to her eyes and she wondered how big the plug actually was.

  “Her mouth is so fucking hot,” Lashe murmured, slowly thrusting his cock in and out of her mouth. She loved that he had total control and she could just savor his flavor. “When I come, you’re to swallow every drop of my cum.”

  Like Trish would have argued with that. She couldn’t wait until he filled her mouth. She’d turned into a wanton woman and couldn’t be happier. When Sander had said she deserved a reward for taking her punishment, a warm feeling had draped over her and it hadn’t been physical. Emotionally, she’d garnered their approval and that gave her a feeling she had a hard time describing. The submissives at the club hadn’t been lying to cover up for the Dominants. They’d been telling the truth.

  “Breathe through your nose, little minx,” Sander said, his voice deep with need. “I’m going to push the plug in until your ass closes around the base. If you accept the sting, you’ll find it more pleasurable.”

  Before Trish could find a way to tense her muscles back there, Sander shoved the remainder of the plug inside of her anus. Images of the ring of fire at the circus appeared in her mind…that was how her sphincter felt. It didn’t let up, and it made her forget the smarting of her flesh. She stopped breathing. She heard a wrapper tear and she knew her pussy was about to be filled. With how full her ass was feeling, Trish wasn’t sure he’d find room to slide into her pussy.

  Lashe now had one hand wrapped around her hair, which was in a high ponytail from her shower. He pulled her head up slightly, and she was amazed by how far back his cock was going. She normally had a gag reflex, but the way he was holding her head, it seemed to be holding it at bay. The feel of his thick cock felt different from anything else she’d ever put into her mouth. She exhaled through her nose, finally releasing all that pent-up air she’d sucked in when Sander thrust the plug inside of her. Now, his cock was at the entrance of her pussy.

  “Her mouth might be hot, but nothing compares to her pussy,” Sander said as he started to glide his cock inside of her. Her mouth was full, and she’d seen how big Lashe was, but Sander felt like he was splitting her open. How wide was his cock? “Fuck, you’re tight.”

  Trish would have nodded in agreement. She never would have guessed having something in her ass would have made the experience of taking him in her pussy so much more animalistic. The only problem she was encountering was the fact that she couldn’t move. She wanted to suck harder on Lashe, make him feel half of what she was feeling, but his hold kept her mouth where he wanted it. The same for Sander—his fin
gers were digging in her hips and holding her steady. She just wanted to buck.

  “Do you still feel the burn?” Sander asked, releasing his right hand and from the fire that seemed to spread, obviously shifting the base of the plug. What kind of question was that? Did it ever stop feeling like it was being scorched? “This is similar to what you will feel when both of us take you at the same time.”

  “I’m going to push farther down your throat, Trish,” Lashe murmured above her. “I want you to swallow. It will stem your gag reflex.”

  So much was happening to her all at once that Trish was having trouble concentrating. Maybe that’s what they wanted—to overwhelm her senses. They were doing a damn good job. Her pussy was now full of Sander’s cock and wanted to hold him there, but he had other ideas as he slowly thrust in and out of her. He kept moving the base of the plug, which only seemed to make the ache within her spread. Trish needed to come but didn’t have a way to tell them. She was at their mercy.

  Lashe pulled her ponytail back and pushed his dick farther down her throat. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to accommodate him. He didn’t give her a choice, and she found that even more stimulating. They were both thrusting in and out of her body, at different rates, in different areas, yet both actions were carrying her higher and higher. Why couldn’t she come?

  “Hmmmmm,” Trish hummed around Lashe’s cock.

  “Fuck,” Lashe muttered.

  Trish’s butt plug started to vibrate. She felt her toes start to curl at the same time she felt Lashe’s cock swell. The force of his cum hit the back of her throat and she knew it was a good thing she’d been swallowing his tip. She drank him up. She wouldn’t have been able to prevent her orgasm if they’d instructed her to. It overwhelmed her. Ripples and spasms seemed to grab ahold of the plug and Sander’s cock, trying to keep both in place as she found her release.

  “That’s right, little minx. Come for us. You’ve earned it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Trish was sitting at a table at her favorite café browsing the sites on her tablet for jobs. Newspapers weren’t really hiring and neither were magazines. That left either freelance or trying to find a position with an online news group. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and sat back in her chair. Lashe had offered her her old job back earlier this morning, but Trish couldn’t take it. It would feel like too much of a conflict of interest.

  “I figured I’d find you here.”

  Trish looked up to find James standing beside her table, shadowing her from the sun. It wasn’t hard, considering how wide his shoulders were. Mirrored sunglasses covered his dark gaze, and his five-o’clock shadow seemed a little longer than usual. His tie was slightly loose and he looked like he’d been up all night. She looked him up and down, not in a physical way—although he was attractive in a dark and forbidden way—but more in retrospect. Her journalistic mind reared its ugly head, but her ass reminded her that that wasn’t such a good idea.

  “I have to say, as much as I enjoy your company, I’m glad you reverted the contracts to once a week.” James pulled out a chair and sat down, shaking his head at the waitress when she went to walk over and see if he’d like anything. It struck Trish as odd considering that the waitress approached from almost directly behind James, yet she knew he was warning her off. Trish wasn’t surprised when the girl’s eyes widened and she backed away. He had that way with people and situations, always watching for indicators. “Ready to sign?”

  “Yes, please,” Trish said, slipping the papers from his hands and positioning them in front of her. He held out a pen and she gratefully took it. “I’m liking once a week myself.”

  It was true. Ever since her sister’s visit over a month ago, and Trish’s punishment, things were…perfect. She wasn’t the type of woman to say that word, but there was no other description. They were training her body and mind—and they didn’t have to do much work. All it had taken was for her to accept that part of herself and it seemed to open up a floodgate. Lashe had added a few scenes himself during the afternoon, but Trish was all for it. If only she could convince them to take her to the club events which they obviously missed.

  Speaking of which, maybe there was something about that in the contract. It wasn’t that Trish hadn’t reviewed the contract prior, but maybe she’d missed something. Scanning the paragraphs, she found what she was looking for on page two. Thinking back on how she came to be where she was, it wasn’t hard to figure out that Kennedy had put the one-liner in.

  “Do you think there is any way Kennedy would remove the club restriction?”

  She’d only ever seen James laugh once, and that was when he caught her in the club posing as a submissive. Trish had made the reference that the Order would have her killed and she’d be floating face down in the river for trying to expose them. Now, it was easy to see how ridiculous that sounded. James was still laughing and lifted his glasses with his fingers to wipe away his tears.

  “It wasn’t that funny.”

  “Yes, it was,” James answered. He settled his sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose. Trish noticed the scars on his hands and briefly wondered how he’d gotten them, but the next words out of his mouth distracted her. “You lied and manipulated your way into a club to expose its members. You’re banned for life, Ms. Lawton.”

  “Don’t Lashe and Sander have any pull?” Trish felt guilty that they would never again be allowed in the club…together. She brought herself up short with that thought. It was she who was banned, not them. Had they gone and played? She quickly thought back over the last month and a half. No, they’d spent all their evenings with her. Relief washed over her, but it didn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling that they could go and come from the club whenever they wanted and she couldn’t. “Could they get me back in? Could they speak to the owner?”

  Trish thought back on her research and realized she never did find out who the sole owner of Crown Point was. It had multiple shell companies, similar to that of Safeword LLC. It dawned on Trish who actually owned the club and her gaze flew to James’s. The Order owned both.

  James was still smiling, but he shook his head. “Ms. Lawton, I suggest you be grateful for what you have. I’ve got a busy afternoon ahead of me. If you’ll sign your contract, I will be on my way.

  Trish looked down at the paper and knew she didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t about to lose what she’d established with Lashe and Sander. Maybe she’d speak to them tonight regarding the club. She wanted to play there, to feel what it was like to experience what the other submissives felt. She scrawled her signature on the third page and passed it, along with the pen, back to him.

  “Thank you, James.”

  “My pleasure, Ms. Lawton. Behave.”

  James’s warning rang in her ear as he stood up, although he had an affectionate tone in his voice. She watched him leave without a backward glance. He disappeared behind a corner of the building. Who was he, really?

  Trish’s phone vibrated on the table. She looked down, expecting to see her sister calling. Instead, the screen showed Unknown in big block letters. Expecting it to be a solicitor, she was surprised to hear one of her informants on the other end of the line.

  “Ben? I haven’t heard from you in a while—not since I worked on the political piece regarding Judge Kindridge and the bribes he was taking from the defendants.” Trish looked up, indicating to the waitress that she’d like the check. This was the call she needed. It was time to switch her focus and get back in the game. Hopefully, Ben had information that would assist her in that. “Tell me you got something good.”

  “Let’s just say it should be the story of the year. Can you meet me at our usual place…say around nine o’clock tonight?”

  “Yes,” Trish said, although in the back of her mind she found herself hesitating. What would Sander and Lashe think when she up and left their apartment, when that was the time they usually started a scene? She would deal with any objections when the time came. “Of course. I’ll see
you there.”

  * * * *

  Sander studied Trish intently as she shifted on her feet by the front door. It was the first time that she’d gone out this late at night in regards to work. When they questioned what the meeting was about, all she said was that it was with a tipster she’d worked with before in regards to a political piece. The question was, did they believe her?

  “Trish, all we’re asking is that you tell us what the article is in reference to. You can’t blame us after your run-in with the Senator.”

  “I told you that it had nothing to do with him,” Trish replied, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. She was dressed in jeans with a pink pullover shirt that had a small pocket on her right breast. Her hair was pulled at the base with a matching tie, but the strands fell over her left shoulder. Sander wanted to take that tie and do something else entirely with it that didn’t have anything to do with her hair. “He said that he had a lead for me and I can’t pass this up. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a freelance writer right now. I need all the stories I can get.”

  “And this has nothing to do with ousting anyone in the Lifestyle?” Lashe asked from his seat on the couch. His ankle was across one leg and Sander found that his little brother seemed a little too relaxed. “Or your previous fixation on that organization you keep harping on?”

  Sander coughed through his laugh, not letting on that Lashe was closer to the truth than she knew. The Order did exist—with very influential members—and they were on the executive board. It had taken a long time for such coveted seats and he and Lashe took the roles seriously. This explained why they were always so guarded with said information. Until she was their permanent submissive, as members of the board they were forbidden to reveal their stature. Trish rolled her eyes in the way she did that made Sander’s palm heat up.