by DD Prince
Sometimes these guys would lay bets about who’d come first, offering rewards to slaves who either held them out the longest or who got them off the fastest. I’d been on my knees in this room while they tried to carry on meetings pretending as if they weren’t getting head. They never got tired of their games.
“I don’t know about you fellas but I’m in the mood for some visual candy,” Mr. Lucas said, getting to his feet and moving to the bar to fetch a cigar from the opened wooden box, “Cigar, anyone?”
He leaned in to the server and said something low and the server picked up the cordless phone behind the bar.
“Me,” Dare said.
I had to fight my reaction, which would’ve been to scrunch up my nose. He’d been fighting his addiction to smoking and while he’d stopped smoking when we were at his sister’s cabin, I knew that he was having to fight hard to keep those cravings at bay with all the stress we’d been under lately.
I knew he’d been stressed the last few weeks. I had the feeling he was even more stressed than he was allowing me to see.
I watched him light it, and ignored the urge to move away from the smoke. He looked at it as he blew out the smoke, as if he was impressed with the flavor.
The door opened and three more slaves entered, wearing lingerie. I knew all three of them. They did a fairly good job of masking their jealousy at seeing me but I saw a spark of envy in at least the eyes of two of them at me on the lap of my master, here briefly for the annual partner summit and then I’d get to go, leave with the handsome tall blond model-looking man who wouldn’t let me be treated like a slave publicly.
Mr. Lucas leaned over and whispered something to the three girls. That was another thing about him. Beyond stamina, he liked to tell us what he wanted to see. He could’ve been a porn director. He liked to watch. A lot. I’d regularly been instructed on role playing for shows for Mr. Lucas. Sometimes those shows were in front of others and sometimes they were just for him.
Dare hadn’t been paying much attention to what Naomi was doing to Mr. Chen, other than my feeling his muscles tighten slightly for a brief second, but I felt something else coming off him at the scene unfolding in front of us.
Three girls. A blonde, brunette, and the redhead Truly, that we’d seen earlier; the one who could’ve been chosen rather than me for him.
I knew this upcoming scene and I knew it well, having been the redhead in this exact scene more than once. It was a favorite of Mr. Lucas’s.
The blonde began undressing the brunette, and the brunette was undressing the redhead. It was slow, sensual, and they played their parts exceptionally well. No one looked sad, scared, or broken. They all looked like they were very into the scene. Professional Kruna assets wouldn’t look broken, even if we were --- unless the scene or patron called for that role.
When the brunette and redhead were completely naked, they both turned their attention to the blonde and undressed her together.
The brunette moved her mouth to the blonde’s barely there landing strip, and started to lick her way downward.
We were all waxed, typically, other than natural blondes. The Kruna handlers wanted patrons to know which blonde was ‘natural’ so left the landing strip.
The blonde moved to her back on the rich oriental rug and spread her legs wide. The redhead climbed up and straddled the blonde’s face. The blonde began hungrily lapping the redhead’s perfectly waxed pussy.
The brunette, currently working at eating out the blonde, was up on her knees, her legs apart. And we had a full view of the back of her.
I got damp between the legs. As awful as it sounded, I don’t think it was arousal as much as it was muscle memory. Performances required participation and you had to be wet to participate. I’d been in this room or in a similar scene so many times, my body knew what was expected.
Mr. Chen grunted as he came down Naomi’s throat and then he instructed Naomi to “Get in there and eat her ass.” Naomi moved to behind the brunette and lavishly licked her asshole, Mr. Chen’s cum was still in her mouth, and it dribbled down the back of the brunette’s leg.
Dare shifted slightly and put his cigar out in an ashtray and then he took another large mouthful of his drink.
I felt his cock beginning to come alive underneath me. I swallowed and breathed deep and then I dared to glance at him. His eyes were on the spectacle in front of us. He caught me looking and the look in his eyes was heated but bordering on angry. He couldn’t show these guys anything but being likeminded but I suspected that right there, he was angry at himself for being aroused by what he saw.
My eyes moved to my hands, which were folded in my lap.
Dare
Fuck. Fucking motherfucking fuck. What was happening in front of me was not fucking helping my state of mind. I’d had a lot to drink, thinking it’d get me through the evening, but it was doing me no favors. Now, I not only wanted to rip the heads off of all the men in the room but I wanted to take my cock into my hand and rub one out at what I was seeing.
I couldn’t remind myself of what these girls really were. I had to go with it so that they wouldn’t know I wasn’t on board with whatever it was that they were into. But this thing happening didn’t look like broken slaves. It was a live action 4-way girl on girl porno playing out right in front of me.
And I had my beautiful wife on my lap and I knew she knew what was happening to me physically right now and I had to make a judgement call on how to handle this shit.
Gan Chen and Joseph Lucas were watching the show. Delgado’s slave was spread out on the floor in front of his crouched body, her legs wide, and he was fingering her cunt, his eyes on the show. The slave’s head was thrown back with her back arched so she could also see the show. Lucas’s slave leaned over and started to suck Delgado’s slave’s nipple.
I felt Angel’s body jerk, so I grabbed her hip out of reflex, thinking she needed steadying but she got to her feet for a second and then in a flash, she dropped her panties to the floor, kicked her shoes off, lifted her dress at the back only, so showing only me her naked ass, and then she sat back down on my lap, right against my straining cock, tucking her feet into my sides so that her knees were adjacent to my thighs. She sat on me like she was getting ready to ride a mechanical bull. My dick jumped.
She reached behind herself and without looking, slid my suit pants zipper down. I was in a hormone-driven half-drunken haze so I just sat and watched until she got my button undone and reached for my dick blindly and then shifted forward, still sitting reverse cowgirl, her feet tucked in at my sides on either side as she slid back, sliding me inside her hot, wet heat while arranging the fabric of her dress over us. She tightened her legs around my thighs, as if preparing to hold onto me with them like she would a mechanical bull.
The length of her off-white dress covered her and covered me. She kept moving, slowly, with purpose, her hands gripping at my knees. My hands went to her hips and I gripped, giving her stability, which she took, moving so that she got me deeper. And then she threw her hair back and I saw the eyes of the other men in the room move to her. Fuck, when she whipped her hair it was sexy. I wanted to gauge their eyes out. My fingers tightened on her waist to the point she jolted.
My brain forgot the scene on the floor and was now on my wife’s back, on her sleeked straight hair falling all around her shoulders. She’d straightened it for Kruna, for her state of mind.
One of the girls in the tangle of bodies who wasn’t currently with her tongue in another girl leaned over and tried to connect by kissing Angel but before she got to her, I reached up and pulled Angel backwards flush against me and buried my face into her hair as she continued to ride me. We were already crossing lines I didn’t want to cross. We weren’t crossing that one, too. My hand went around her throat possessively as I kept her against me.
What should’ve been a very private thing between us was happening in front of six Kruna slaves as well as three Kruna partners.
I glanced toward
the floor. Two of the three girls being eaten out were orgasming together. The black girl eating out a brunette was fingering herself and she started writhing while she was coming. The girl watching while Delgado fucked her with his fingers pulled on Delgado’s dick and he started coming.
Angel started to breathe heavier and ride harder. My wife was looking after me. At that thought, I closed my eyes, burying my face into the back of her neck, and focused on her, on all she was to me. I let it go. I came inside her.
She slumped back against me. I held her tight to me.
It washed over me then, that she was wired and there would be ears on that entire event. That, the fact that I’d been aroused by what was happening in that room, and by how my woman had taken care of me, it all filled me with deep remorse. She hadn’t come, only me. She’d been a Stepford wife and it was my fault.
The festivities on the floor continued and I saw that Gan Chen was now fucking one of the girls up the ass while that same girl went down on Delgado, who was miraculously hard already. I’d seen him pop pills at dinner. Probably dick pills.
“Excuse us, gentleman,” I said, and threw my wife over my shoulder like a piece of meat. She squealed. I bent into a squat to grab Angel’s shoes and panties and we left the Townsend room together and I headed, with purpose, back to our suite. Inside, I slammed the door and, Angel still over my shoulder, I grabbed the phone and dialed room service.
“Mr. Ferrano? What can I get you, sir?” the answerer, a male with an Asian accent asked.
“A bottle of Brennivin, a pack of Marlboro reds and a lighter. Put a rush on that.”
I put the phone down and then set her down gently on the bed.
Her eyes were on me.
I clenched and unclenched my fists, staring at her. I had to get my shit together.
She was breathing heavily, staring back at me, her chest rising and falling. I couldn’t read her eyes. I didn’t let myself look at them.
I shook my head and put my index finger to my mouth, warning her not to say anything, and started to pace. I wanted to hit something. I couldn’t. I went to the bathroom and took a piss and then stared into the mirror at my reflection, disgusted with myself.
I heard a knock on the door. I bolted for it. Angel was still on the bed in the position I left her in. I didn’t even look at her face to get a read on what she could be feeling. I couldn’t process my own emotions, never mind begin to think about hers. She was being who she usually was; the girl who wanted to please me.
The idea that she’d think of what’d happened in there as me being unfaithful to her, to our relationship… flashed in my mind. Jesus. What kind of damage had I just inflicted on her?
Angel
Dare stormed toward the door when someone knocked on it and ripped it open so hard I was surprised it didn’t come off the hinges.
I looked down to my hands in my lap. After he shut the door, he was pouring a drink and going out to the little balcony off our room and lighting that cigarette. It was lit before he was out the door.
We couldn’t even talk about this here, in case our room was wired by Kruna. We already knew that a good portion of the clothes in the room were wired by the task force.
I went to the bathroom and shed my clothes and got into the shower.
Half way through rinsing out my conditioner, I felt him come in.
He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into my neck. I held him tight.
His grip went tighter.
He looked into my eyes. I looked at his mouth as he mouthed “I’m sorry.” He looked wrecked with guilt.
I shook my head and put my finger to his lips to shush him. I didn’t want him to be sorry.
His hands moved down to my hips and he winced. I looked down. Both my hips had purpling fingerprints from the Townsend room, when he’d gripped me really hard.
“Fuck,” he dropped to his knees and kissed each hip tenderly and then looked up at me, his eyes sorrow-filled.
I crooked my finger to ask him to come back up and when he did, I looked deep into his eyes and then put my lips to his and said low, but not so low he couldn’t hear and if someone else heard it, it wouldn’t be too bad.
“I love you. I love you, Master. So much. Thank you for marrying me, for getting me off the floor, off my knees, for being everything I need. I would kneel on broken glass for you, on hot coals, no hesitation. Anything for you, Dare. Absolutely anything.”
He looked at me with such love and also such pain, that it scored my heart in a way that was both painful and beautiful.
He lifted me up and put me against the tiled shower wall and brought me down onto him, sliding inside me.
And then he gave me what I can only say must’ve been his version of sexual healing. He made love to me slowly, sweetly, with painstaking attention to every inch of my body.
“I love you so much, my baby. My Angel.” He licked along my shoulder up to my earlobe and then carried me back to the bed and he went down on me, bringing me to the brink of an orgasm, then easing off.
“Beg,” he ordered.
Fuck, that was hot.
“Please,” I begged.
“Please what?” He gave me a sexy and intense expression.
“Please, Master. Please let me come.”
“You didn’t come in there,” he noted.
“No. My orgasms are only yours.”
And then a look crossed his face and I saw regret.
“You got it, Angel. Come, my baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He threw the blanket over us to cover me and sucked hard on my clit, shoving two fingers into me and hooking to hit my g-spot.
I squealed in delight, and rocked against his mouth, not even trying to be quiet.
Fuck whoever might be listening. They could listen and get off on the sound of us [you’re welcome, mofos!] or they could turn their listening devices off.
Afterwards, I was thinking, as he held me tight, looking deep into my eyes with such emotion, that when we got some privacy, I’d try to ease his mind and just assure him that what’d happened was really no different than us fucking to porn. That’s how we’d view it. And that’s all it was. He didn’t touch anyone else; neither did I. We saw what we saw and we did what we did. End of story.
I touched his face. His expression was broody, dark, angry. I couldn’t convey my thoughts without words right now; he was too in his own head. Beating himself up, undoubtedly.
Dare got sexually aroused at a vision of a naked women orgy. What hot-blooded man wouldn’t? I got aroused by deciding, when I felt him get hard, that I would take care of him and fuck my husband in a room filled with people from my nightmare. I was convinced it was the best way to get through that.
For once, here at Kruna, I’d made my own decision about fucking someone and that decision included who I would fuck and how I’d go about doing it. So what that nine people had been there to see it happening. I was kind of in awe of how therapeutic that actually was.
The Townsend room was a play room. I’d reiterate to him, somehow, that some of the rooms would be like that. I could give him a signal going forward so that he’d know. Any room that had a surname sounding name was a play zone. Maybe we’d take a beach walk in the morning and I could tell him that.
I looked up from my place cuddled up against him and saw, despite the darkness, that his stormy beautiful eyes were fixed on the ceiling; he was looking torn up.
Dare
Kruna, Day 2
Tommy had Tess and had taken care of some business. He was heading home with Tia, Tess, Sarah, and the kids. Leo Denarda was one less problem to worry about. One problem down; how many to go?
Kruna.
Holly.
Two big problems but at least it was progress. And thankfully, Tommy, Tia, Tess, and our guys were breathing. Tommy said there were casualties, bad ones, but that all our men were breathing. I’d find the rest out when I got home.
I woke up before my wife. I wanted to go for a run
or a swim but was not leaving her unguarded so I’d gotten up and ordered coffee and sat out on the balcony drinking it and smoking cigarettes. The first one gave me a head rush.
The second one was like an old friend. I barely remembered smoking one last night before joining Angel in the shower. I’d been disgusted with what’d happened and I couldn’t show it. I knew she knew I was pissed, upset, regretful. But it wasn’t enough to be able to make love to her because we weren’t completely alone and that pissed me the fuck off. It also pissed me off, no sickened me, that I’d bruised her hips.
I saw her get out of bed and head into the bathroom from the balcony so I stubbed out the cigarette and went back inside. I’d smoke at Kruna to help me with my nerves. Back home, I’d stop again.
When she came out of the bathroom, she walked straight into my arms. I put my hands on her face and brought her mouth to mine and then held her tight against me.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
“Good morning, my baby. How’d you sleep?” I ran my thumb across her cheekbone.
“Not too bad,” she said but made a face as if to tell me she slept like shit, or maybe she was making that face because she could smell and taste the smoke on me, “How ‘bout you?”
“About the same,” I said, “Coffee? Breakfast?”
“I’d love some coffee,” she said and walked her index and middle fingers up my chest and I took the cue.
“How ‘bout a walk?”
She smiled, “That sounds lovely, Master.”
I poured her a coffee from the carafe I’d already ordered in.
“We’ll take a walk and a swim, maybe, and then eat in the dining room,” I said.
She smiled without it touching her eyes. I hated the idea of being out there, too, but that’s what we needed to do to get shit done. Get info for the fucking Feds.