Cantrips: Volume #2: Minor Magics Crafted to Amuse and Entertain

by Joey W. Hill

  Ben adjusted her, the angle and the pressure of her body holding her ass flush to his pelvis. The fabric of his open slacks were against her lower back, then she was catapulted to another realm of pleasure as Peter’s hands slid away from her breasts and Ben’s took their place. Holding and squeezing them as Peter suckled them. Oh God…the idea of it, the two of them working together, was amazing. Then she cried out as the head of Ben’s cock broke through that tight inner ring of muscles.

  “There you are,” Ben muttered. She cried out again as Peter’s hand covered her mound completely, two fingers sinking into her cunt as his thumb began to massage the clit on the outside.

  “No…no…” It was that odd denial that came with overwhelming stimulation, because they were relentless, ruthless. For her every squirm against the flicking, rubbing, teasing of her clit, Ben was moving forward, making headway, in the literal sense. And taking full pleasure in squeezing her breasts, while Peter continued to suckle the nipples that were large and stiff as a result of all the stimulation. She was being split in half, her ass on fire, but that oil in there was still warm and tingling, trying to work with it.

  “Help…” She didn’t know what kind of help she needed, and she didn’t want anything to stop, and of course her Master and Ben just made her hotter, wetter.

  “No help for you here, baby girl,” Ben growled. “You broke the rules, disobeyed your Master. Now you’re going to pay the price. You take my cock, every inch of it, and you beg for forgiveness.”

  “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…oh, God…no…it hurts…don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

  “Not planning to,” Peter said, giving her another nip. “Not until you’re the most well-fucked slave a Master could ever want.”

  “Oh God…” She was doing the mantra now. She had utterly no control, with Ben holding her legs and pushing inward and down. She’d never felt so full, and she was sure they planned to eventually have Peter fuck her at the same time. Oh, God, she’d be split in half. But it was all right. She was all theirs, that was all that mattered, that she served their lust, their will. She had no mind, no desires that weren’t theirs. She wanted them to split her in half.

  Peter came back to her mouth, his hands once again taking possession of her breasts while Ben’s slid down her belly, teasing her navel before he banded his arms against her thighs and calves again, holding her suspended legs tighter against his body, for a deeper penetration she was sure.

  This time she couldn’t help it. She sank her teeth into Peter’s lower lip, needing to consume him. He shifted, held her head, met the passionate kiss with an overwhelming one of his own, taking control of it, dominating her just with his mouth, the grip of his hands, the heat of him vibrating against her. And then she let out a guttural moan as Ben sank all the way home. His balls pressed against her ass cheeks. It hurt like hell, but God, it felt…unbelievable. She wanted him to pull out, she wanted him to never pull out.

  “There you are. Fuck, tight as they come. Just the way I like it.” He moved incrementally and she whimpered again. Good, agonizing, incredible. “Tell me you like it.”

  “I love it. Love it…” she whispered. “Please, Master. I want you both.”

  “You’ll get us both. But you’ll do Ben first. He’s our guest, after all.”

  “Ohhh…” She screamed as Ben pulled out a few inches, slid back in while his thumb passed over her clit, down between her labia, tickled the flesh there. Peter swallowed the sound, keeping his hands on her jaw, holding her steady as Ben did it again. And again.

  She was rasping into Peter’s mouth. “I can’t…I might come. It feels…different.” Like she was coming, but not. Like she wanted it to continue forever, even as she was pretty sure her rectum had been torn open.

  “You don’t come until your Master orders it.” That from Ben, in a stern, no-nonsense voice that snapped her mind right back into lock, particularly when he gave her clit a sharp pinch and she jumped. His cock shifted inside of her in a way that had her groaning.

  “The idea’s tempting, though. We could spend the rest of the night punishing her, every time she comes without our permission.” Peter’s chuckle was this side of lust-saturated evil. The two of them could teach Satan a thing or two about tempting the purest soul to sin.

  When he shifted, she realized he’d stood up. A moment, later, those hard, denim-clad thighs were on either side of her head, pressing into her shoulders. He was leaning forward…

  “Nooooo…oh God oh God…” His mouth replaced Ben’s fingers on her clit, and then Peter’s tongue was dipping into her cunt, sucking her juices, licking her labia.

  She fucking came apart, just as Ben took advantage of the inevitable climax to ramp things up on his end. He started to thrust in earnest, making her feel the slide of him in and out of her impossibly stretched rim. He was pumping her good, even though she realized—with dread and amazement—he was still restraining himself. Right now it felt like she was being jack hammered. She’d lost her grip on the cliff, on anything. Turning her head toward Peter’s leg, she bit his inner thigh so hard she was pretty sure she would have struck blood if he didn’t have the jeans. Her climax roared over her, shuddered through her entire body, seizing her heart, lungs, mind, taking her up so high she couldn’t even imagine where the earth might be.

  She was screaming, spiraling, coming so hard her juices flooded Peter’s mouth as Ben kept fucking her ass and Peter sucked on her clit, tongue fucking her pussy. Ben’s arm muscles were steel around her legs, holding her steady against his body as he worked himself into her. She wanted to feel him come, wanted to feel that cock jet inside her, but she was losing focus, things getting gray.

  “Help… Master…” Peter.

  Everything went dark, inside and out.

  * * *

  “There she is. She’s coming back to us. Blacked out on us, soldier.”

  Peter was cradling her against his chest. She was lying…where was she? Out on the screened porch, where she could hear the marsh birds talking in the night, the frogs warbling, the cool touch of the fresh air, flowing in and out of her lungs with each breath. The netting was gone, leaving her fully naked. She also registered that Peter was lying beneath her, the heated skin of his upper body pressed to hers, his cock beneath his jeans a fairly erect bar against her inner thigh where it lay between his. He was stroking her temple, her short-cropped hair. She was a noodle, too limp to move.

  “Not over yet, Sergeant. Your punishment isn’t done.”

  If she’d had the energy, she would have quaked at that. How much more could she handle? Of course, as punishments went, it was already the most incredible punishment ever. They were going to kill her, but she was already resigned to that. What a story she’d have when she reached the Pearly Gates. They might lock her out from pure envy.

  That aside, the hardness of her Master’s cock told her the most important thing about why she had to accept more punishment. She wasn’t done until her Master’s lust had been sated, until he was satisfied. That was a slave’s top priority, right?

  His hand glided down her back. She felt another set of hands, Ben’s, slide over her rump. Her other foot was in the lawyer’s lap, and he was massaging her toes, teasing the sole a little bit with occasional brushes of a glass that likely held his preferred whiskey. But now he set it aside, leaned down and kissed her there, making her smile tiredly.

  “Ready to give out yet, baby girl?”

  “I serve my Master,” she whispered. “And you.”

  “That’s the right answer. Because you’re going to give us each one more go, and you’re going to come again yourself before you’re done. Dinner always comes with dessert. It might be quite a bit shorter, but it will be a sweet finish to the evening.”

  She had no idea what they had in mind, but she was simply drifting, loose, willing to do whatever. A wave of pleasure swept her, a residual of her climax, as Ben lifted her, his arm sliding under her waist, the other across her chest,
just over her breasts to support her as Peter adjusted beneath her, opening his jeans. Ben nuzzled her hair, her ear, gave it a nip. “Made me harder than I’ve ever been, baby girl, hearing you beg for mercy and more pain, all at once. He kissed away your every tear.”

  “You savored every one of them.”

  “I haven’t done it right if I don’t make them cry…and come. And why are we doing it?”

  She closed her eyes. She didn’t know why she did, except it was a different kind of darkness, the kind that matched what was in his voice. Sinful temptation.

  “Because I’m being punished. For disobeying my Master.”

  “For endangering his property. For being careless with it. That’s not going to happen again. Ever. Or I’ll come back and you’ll learn what a real switching and hard fuck is all about, not this little tickle we’re giving you tonight.”

  She swallowed, barely breathing. “Yes sir.”

  “Now you go down on him and suck him good, until he decides he’s hard enough to fuck you. No hands. You rely on us.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant until he moved her back on the bench, so her head would be more in line with her Master’s cock. Sitting her back on her heels on the boards, Ben guided her hands behind her and latched them together with a pair of padded cuffs. Despite the harshness of his words, he steadied her hips, Peter’s hands closing on her shoulders to control her descent as they folded her forward. The benches were wide, intended for a man Peter’s size to nap the afternoon away, so there was plenty of room for her to be between his knees. Peter levered his cock up to her mouth, his hand moving to her nape as Ben’s hand curved over her shoulder.

  When they pushed her down on Peter’s cock, she discovered immediately they had no intention of letting her control anything. The men worked in tandem with those hands on the nape and shoulder, pushing her down, drawing her back. It took any strain off her back or leg muscles, them controlling her descent and rise. It also brought her lethargic libido back to life, her being treated as an object to serve their lust. She showed her eagerness to be a good slave by finding the energy to suck Peter hard, doing all the things her Master liked. Tracing the head, sucking the tip, licking all along his length. Peter was getting thicker and tighter, hips lifting to drive himself in her mouth.

  She was on auto pilot, too exhausted to think, but she was aware, amazingly, of the tight coil happening between her legs, a neediness for her Master to fill her there. She moaned, part protest, part pleasure, as Ben took advantage of her position, haunches in the air, to start giving her ass random smacks. Smack, knead, squeeze, then teasing her rim, thrusting his fingers in, showing her she was still well-lubed. Smack, smack… When she whimpered against Peter, a miraculous trickle of new arousal headed down her thigh. Oh God. She really was going to be able to do this.

  Peter pushed her to exercise, to do her physical therapy, but she hadn’t realized she could go to this level, mentally or physically, where it truly was only about being a mindless slave, serving their desires. In some far distant place, she realized she genuinely didn’t have any will of her own at the moment. She was loving it, amazed by it, a little scared. But she never wanted it to end, even as she was afraid her body was going to give out. They kept pushing her so close, as if they knew the very edge of her limits.

  But they did, didn’t they? She knew Peter did. Knew to the nth degree how much she could take, how to take her just past that edge to give her the sense of accomplishment, that she’d exceeded her own expectations. This was no different, even as it was also a whole new universe.

  “Fuck, that’s good. Let’s bring her up.” She was lifted, brought up Peter’s body, her fingers briefly gripping a combination of denim and flesh as she straddled him with Ben’s help. Peter banded his arm across her shoulder blades, bringing her back down to his chest and keeping her cheek pressed to his shoulder. Ben’s hands were firm on her hips, working her down onto her Master’s cock, one beautiful inch at a time. Moaning, she sighed her pleasure as Peter filled her. Home. It was the one key thing that had been missing before, as much as she loved her captain’s mouth on her pussy. He ground into her, a few hip circles that had her groaning with need. He knew the inside of a woman better than any man she’d ever known.

  “All right, girl. Time to go. You aren’t going to last much longer, and you have a to-do list.” Now he sat up and rose with that awe-inspiring strength he had, as if she weighed no more than a toddler to him. As he made her wrap her shaking legs around his hips, he was moving, taking her inside. She tried to focus, figure out their destination, despite the incredible ripples of pleasure that came as his cock moved inside her with his body’s movements. From the direction and the cool wood smell, they were approaching the guest bedroom.

  Ben was still with him; she detected his unique scent, the brush of his hand across her bare back. Peter paused in the doorway, pressing her against the frame to kiss her, to pump his hips for a couple hard thrusts. Her breathy, pleading sigh in his mouth spoke of her love and need as he held her there. She wished she could put her arms around him. As if they’d pulled it right from her mind, Ben was unlatching the cuffs, his fingers brushing hers before she slid her hands over Peter’s broad shoulders, dug her fingers into that PEACE tattoo that arced across his back. Her shoulders were so weak, it was an effort, but she was determined. She wanted to hold him.

  “Into the bedroom now.” Peter murmured it against her mouth, hiking her back up his body. It smelled like sea marsh, because he’d opened the screened windows at some point earlier in the day. She could hear the calls of the night creatures. Pausing a moment, just holding her there, he stroked her neck, pushing her head down on his shoulder. He was obviously waiting, which meant Ben was preparing something. Her vague worry about that turned into trepidation at his next words.

  “We may be headed toward the finish line, but I think your slave needs one last reminder, Peter. Consider this a gift for that preventive maintenance program we discussed.” Something like a pair of slim straps brushed against her haunches. “Jon wishes he’d invented this one himself, but it’s a nice little piece I picked up from the Stockroom. It’s called a Quirt Viper, because it’s a quirt with fangs. At least that’s the way it feels when used right.”

  The snap and smack sound came with a sting on her rump. She arched with a gasp, fingernails digging into Peter’s back before she could stop herself. Holy ouch, but fuck. After that initial zing of pain, her still wet pussy – despite how exhausted those internal muscles were – clenched against the head of Peter’s cock, still lodged halfway inside of her.

  “She had a nice reaction to that,” Peter observed, a touch of hoarseness in his voice that told her she’d squeezed down on him damn good. “Arch against me, baby,” he demanded. “I want to suck on your tits while he punishes you. You keep milking my cock like that while he’s doing it. Fuck, I might come while he’s whipping you.”

  He put in an additional cautionary, one that had her choking between laughter and despair. “Watch my balls, Ben. You hit me with that thing and I’ll tie your dick in a knot around your throat.”

  “Any excuse to get your hand on my dick…”

  Peter’s mouth descended on her breasts, leisurely suckling and nipping as Ben resumed with the quirt. She flinched and cried out at each hit, Peter kept a firm grip on her nape, holding her upper body in that arched back position so he could have his pleasure with her nipple and breast. Tears began to run down her face, even as his suckling was making her squeeze on him in rhythmic need, obeying his directive.

  “Please…it hurts…please!”

  They had a way of detecting when the desperation, the breaking point had come. It had come far quicker this time, but she expected they were ready for that. Every nerve and muscle was stretched thin. She couldn’t hold onto anything in her whirling universe except Peter’s shoulders, and her fingers were trembling on his slick flesh. Ben paused.

  “Please what? You know what we wan
t to hear, Dana. You know what your Master wants to hear.”

  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry for endangering your property, Master. For disobeying you.”

  “And you’ll never do it again?” Ben’s voice was merciless.

  She shook her head, even though everything else shook worse as she imagined what they might do to her. What Ben might do to her. “Have to…” she gasped. “Have to know…that I’m strong. Can take care of him, too. Not always about me. I can’t…promise not to do that.”

  “An honest sub, even if she’s crazy foolish brave.” When that quirt made a slapping noise, she flinched, anticipating the blow, but Ben had tossed it aside. He dropped to a knee behind her and his mouth became busy on her ass again, teasing and nipping the curves, the way Peter was nipping at her breasts. It was like they were slowly devouring her, tongues moving over her flesh, over her nipples, over the curves of her buttocks, then in between. Peter was working his mouth in between her squeezed-together breasts while Ben tongue-fucked her ass again. She gasped, a low moan, as he replaced his mouth with oiled-up fingers to re-lubricate her.

  “Help…no…I can’t take anymore…” She was bobbing between them, instinctively humping against Peter’s tantalizing half-embedded cock, lifting her ass for more of Ben’s penetration. She screamed when he withdrew his fingers and gave her an entirely unexpected and sharp pop with the quirt that stung her nerve endings and completely shattered her mind.

  “Sorry…please…no…anything, Master…”

  Peter covered her mouth with his, swallowed her pleas, kissing away her tears, moving back to her frantic mouth. Her fingers were kneading his back. She wanted him deep inside of her, but instead he shifted her, withdrew. She barely managed to bite back the wail of frustration, liberally laced with curses. But that last quirt strike was going to leave a mark, and she knew Ben would love a reason to give her another. Peter had his threshold, and it was pretty extreme, at least between the two of them, but after tonight, she knew Ben was downright scary. It wasn’t just that she didn’t know where he would stop. It was the realization there was something about him that would keep her from asking him to stop, no matter what. At least not while she was safely in her Master’s arms, such that anything Ben did was Peter’s will as well.