by Joey W. Hill
Ben knew the feeling. He’d have taken the same tactic, but it wasn’t the right timing for where he and Marcie needed to go. But he fully intended to indulge in some long, drugging kisses later. He never stopped craving her mouth, no matter what they were doing.
“All right, baby,” Ben murmured. “On your feet.”
He took her arm to steady her, since she was still on deep burn with all the other provocation saturating the room. Guiding her to the sofa, he had her brace her hands on the arm, spread her legs and position her body in a half-folded-over position that canted her hips up the way he wanted.
Lucas lifted Cass and carried her to the sofa, too, stretching her out on her back so her head was near the arm where Marcie’s hands were gripping. She could look up at her sister. Marcie mischievously shook her loose hair down into her sister’s face. Cass wrinkled her nose and batted at it, her visage relaxing more at her sister’s teasing. Ben gathered up Marcie’s hair, using one of the hair ties he habitually carried for just that purpose so her lovely locks wouldn’t cause her an unwelcome distraction or, in this case, an impediment to her view.
“And you thought you were the only one who was going to get a strapping,” Marcie told Cass. “You don’t get to have all the fun.”
“She will if you keep speaking without permission,” Ben advised. Marcie made a face of exaggerated compliance and lifted her hips even higher, a coquettish move as she looked back at him. The position was sure to get him rock hard and drive his Master’s instinct to thrash her brazen ass. He knew part of her impertinence was intended to help Cass make the transition to what was to come, but he’d only give her a certain amount of latitude for that. However, being Marcie, she’d push it to the limits. The Always Yours, forget-me-not collar gleamed from the soft lamplight in the living area of the suite, though her hair was further haloed by the gentle illumination provided by the terrace lights outside the French doors.
Lucas had disappeared into the bedroom during their byplay and now reappeared. “Just to get you in the right place,” he told Cass, and produced some of Jon’s diabolical warming oil.
Part Eight
Oh, holy hell. Marcie understood the half-terrified look on Cass’s face all too well. Jon’s warming oil should be classified as a controlled substance or dangerous street drug. The oil, when placed on nipples or sex, didn’t merely heat and mildly stimulate the flesh, adding to an already erotic encounter. It brought to life nerve endings to full scale arousal, just the opposite side of lose-your-fucking-mind. When it reached its full potency, it was like being stopped at the top of the orgasm train and held there, in throbbing, insane stasis. All the recipient wanted to do was climax, and every touch of your Master’s mouth and hands only intensified the condition.
Ben had restrained her last time he used it because he’d kept her in that frame of mind for the maximum amount of time Jon recommended it be used, probably because at that threshold it reduced the submissive to the deepest, darkest realms of an erotic jungle of response.
A weak protest was on Cass’s lips, but Lucas knelt beside the couch, putting an almost chaste kiss on her smooth mound.
“I want you to understand what Ben is about to do to Marcie,” he said, meeting his wife’s gaze. “I think this will help you. And give you pleasure.” His brow cocked, his eyes sparking with a hint of mischief. “Plus, using this oil on you is more of my evil yet charmingly boyish fantasy. Will you refuse your Master?”
Despite the teasing, there was a serious tone beneath it Marcie detected, as she was sure Cass did. If she truly didn’t want it, Lucas would let it go, because if Cass didn’t believe his words or intent, letting him use that oil was like agreeing to let someone roofie your drink to get you past inhibitions you wisely should have.
Marcie recalled Dana telling the women about a conversation she’d had with Jon after Peter had used it on her.
“Conceivably, it could do that,” Jon had said when Dana asked him the question so bluntly. “If your Master has no ethics at all, let alone love for his sub, your will could be overwhelmed when it’s applied, because the physical response is so extreme, it would make it difficult to hold onto your objections. You’d just let yourself get swept away. But when it wears off, emotional fallout from going too far under its influence can slam down on the sub like a ton of bricks. That’s why it will never be used outside this group unless it’s by select, trusted friends, like Leland.
“If your Master knows you, if he’s listening, even when you are fully under its influence, he will know the line past which you are not willing to go, even if he could push you past it with its help. A Master’s goal is for your experience to be what you truly desire on every level, beginning and end. The oil’s ideal intent is to provide an eye-opening, adventurous experience the sub is interested in exploring or understanding. It’s not to push her into new territory before she’s ready to be there, or into a place she never wants to go at all.”
As if picking up on that thought process, Lucas held her gaze and added another question, same as what Ben had asked Marcie. “Will you trust your Master? Your husband? The man who loves you and holds your wellbeing over anything else?”
Cass’s expression softened and she pressed her lips together. “You forgot one. My best friend. And yes, I do. To all those things. But just for the record, I hate you.”
“We all do, when you guys use that stuff,” Marcie muttered. “Even when we’re screaming and worshipping at your feet because you did use it.”
“The joyous mystery that is woman, and the blessing that is Jon’s deviant mind. A match made in the dungeon club of Heaven.” Ben chuckled, gripping her hips. “Elbows down on the sofa.”
As Marcie complied, Ben went back into the bedroom for a moment. Marcie enjoyed the backside view, shirtless and in the worn but intriguingly fitted jeans, then shifted her attention to Lucas, smearing the oil on Cass’s sex. Cass arched up at the stimulation of his touch, the initial heat. Setting the bottle aside, he leaned forward and blew on her, which Marcie knew would accelerate the effect. Then Lucas gave his wife another command.
“Reach over your head and grip Marcie’s upper arms to help anchor yourself and her.”
Marcie’s braced forearms on the sofa arm would take care of her own stability for what was about to happen on her side of things, but she understood Lucas wanted to keep Cass’s attention on Marcie’s face, and the physical reactions she’d feel through her palms.
Marcie leaned down and puffed air in her sister’s face. “Check out how badass these guns of mine are getting,” she said, flexing her biceps a little under Cass’s touch. “I’m going to beat Ben at arm wrestling any day now.”
Cass wet her lips and shifted. Her eyes were already glazing a little, telling Marcie the oil was kicking in. But her sister succeeded in offering a typical older sister reply. “Yeah, and you’ll be so butch you’ll have no body fat. Let him arm wrestle the other guys. Keep the boobs he likes so much. Else he’ll be staring at mine and Rachel’s. More than he does already.”
“God would not have made breasts if he didn’t intend men to stare at them,” Ben said, returning.
Marcie made a face at her sister, but when she glanced up, she saw Ben was carrying the belt from his slacks, and the gleam in his gaze was unmistakable. Anticipation and fear surged through her vitals, an adrenaline spike.
She knew how to handle that. As her Master circled behind her, Marcie started her deep breathing, relaxing everything from the center outward, which put her in a different headspace. Impulsively, she bent and kissed her sister’s forehead. “You are so beautiful,” she said. “I’m saying that in a total sister way, but really, you are. When I was a shallow teenager, I used to pray I’d be as beautiful as you, but now…I’m just so proud to have such a beautiful sister.”
“You’re far prettier…” Cass said. The oil was making her sound breathy, but there was surprise in her countenance at Marcie’s words.
“I said beauti
ful,” Marcie corrected. “There’s a difference. In and out, and you have it. It’s in Lucas’s eyes every time he looks at you, because he sees all of it. That’s really what I wanted, when I started realizing what beauty meant. You helped bring me to Ben as much as anyone, Cass, because I felt that way with him. Everything I wanted to be, could be, I knew I could make happen with him. He looks at me and thinks I’m beautiful, too.”
She realized the men had paused, caught by her words. Even though Cass’s mind was the one being swept away, Ben had conditioned Marcie’s body and mind to switch to a highly aroused state from the moment he locked a collar on her. While it made her ready to serve her Master upon command, that state was inextricably linked to her emotions, so they were also close to the surface and ready to be called, like now.
Lucas slid his hand down to play his fingers over Cass’s clit. Cass lost her focus entirely, her throat working. As she tried to answer Marcie, Marcie shook her head. “Ssh. It’s okay. Just feel all the wonderful things they’re doing to us. Listen, watch, feel…and get lost in all of it.”
Cass moaned, her legs shifting. “Un-unh. Time to deal with those.” Lucas moved down and secured the cuffs on her legs to straps he pulled out from two of the wooden sofa feet. One of them he ran up the back of the sofa and over the top, wrapping it under her knee so her leg was propped up on the top cushion, while the other was cinched down by the ankle against the leading edge of the seat cushion, keeping her limbs spread. “Got to keep these apart, no friction to move that oil around,” he said. Then he leaned over her and put his mouth on the rise of her breast, his fingertips sliding lightly along the underside of her arm, her rib cage, to her hip.
Cass made an incoherent plea, her nails digging into Marcie’s upper arms. Marcie absorbed the pain as Ben’s belt licked around her thighs. Her Master curled an arm around her waist, curving his body over her, his straining denim-covered cock against her ass, his bare chest a wall behind her shoulder blades. “Still talking without permission,” he said pleasantly.
“Yes, Master. I wanted to help relax her.”
“Which was fine, if you’d asked first. But you know that.” He gripped her hair in one strong hand and jerked her head to the right, teeth latching onto her shoulder, hard enough Marcie flinched and squirmed, a whimper of pain breaking from her as he held the pressure on the bite and made the effect even more acute. Cass’s eyes widened, a reaction to the force and aggression Ben had used.
Oh, sis, you haven’t seen the half of it, Marcie thought with desperate, lust-infused humor. Her body spiraled up at it inevitably did, her response building with every demand and strain he put upon her. It was a special magic between them, and Cass was being given a front row seat, though fortunately buffered by Lucas, for her mind was obviously torn between what was going on above her and the wet sounds Lucas was making. He’d moved from teasing her breasts with his lips to suckling one of her nipples. He firmly kneaded the other breast as he did that, pinching the tip. Cass’s spread legs quivered and jerked, trying to get some relief from the stimulation and the building effect of the oil.
“Didn’t you?” Ben growled. “You knew you were disobeying.”
He was good about that, reminding her what his question was, knowing how hard it was for her to concentrate when he took command of her body. “Yes sir,” Marcie whispered.
“And why do you do that?”
“I want…to please you. And punishing me pleases you.”
He gave a dark chuckle and drew back, rubbing his fingers along the bite impression, a touch as gentle as the bite had been rough. That was another way he unraveled her. “Well, I plan to be pretty damn pleased when I’m done with you, little girl.”
She closed her eyes. Thank Goddess. His next words made her smile, though.
“No way in hell you’re ever going to beat me in arm wrestling. Even if I have to cheat.”
She instinctively lifted her hips as she heard him shift the belt to his other hand. “Pretty slut,” he said. “Showing me your wet cunt. Think that will buy you mercy? Think you can lead me around by my cock?”
She shook her head and yelped as he popped the belt against her upper thigh. He’d had it doubled over. “Yes sir. I mean, no sir.”
She bit back a feral grin at the intentional mistake, and heard his muffled chuckle. This was going to get serious, pretty fast, but such initial flirting and rebellious playfulness could be part of the foreplay. One of her favorite tactics at home was trying to run from him and doing her very best to stay out of his grasp. The longer she managed it, the more creative and intense the punishment she received. But it was thrilling—and scary—how he always, always caught her. She wouldn’t ever want to be the thing Ben O’Callahan was hunting if he intended harm, but when he was determined to capture her, it merely sent erotic thrills through her entire body.
Cass’s gaze locked with hers, but Marcie knew in a matter of moments she wasn’t going to be any more cognizant of anything than Cass would be with the oil at full intensity. She stroked her sister’s hair, a small infraction amid the others, and put her hand back on the couch, latching onto the cushion, though she tried not to grip too hard, because locking up her muscles was against the rules. She bit her lip as Ben fed a lubricated thick dildo into her pussy, one with a clit stimulator that began to vibrate at a low hum, sure to keep her hot and worked up, no matter the pain.
“You belong to me,” he said in a deep-throated purr. “But you need something in your pussy to keep you focused. “Now, how many strokes have you earned?”
“As many as my Master thinks I should have.” Because she was never wise when it came to these things, she added impishly, “Probably a million.”
He grunted and slapped the belt against his leg, a sharp pop that made Cass jump, her hands holding onto Marcie. “Marcie…oh…”
Whatever thought or concern Cass was going to utter got caught and died somewhere as Lucas did something with his mouth on Cass’s nipple, at the same moment he dropped his hand to feather it over her clit again. “Oh God.” She strained up against her bonds as if she’d been hit by an electric charge. The oil itself was overwhelming, but when your Master touched you, adding to that intimacy, it was devastating to all the senses.
Marcie let go of everything but what her Master was about to demand of her. From blissful experience, she knew he was exactly like that oil. In full blown Master mode, he allowed no room to think, feel or experience anything but what he demanded she think, experience…or feel.
Would she ever tire of this anticipation, one part terror, two parts eager anticipation? Yet how would she feel if it truly horrified Cass to glimpse how she and Ben expressed what was between them? Trepidation disrupted the building anticipation in her stomach. If her sister didn’t understand, if they’d judged wrong, if they never should have brought this part of it into Lucas’s fantasy, the gift Cass had so wanted to give him, that was supposed to be good for them both…
“Ben.” She’d whispered it, but his hand curved over her shoulder, strong, solid, reassuring.
“I love you, brat,” he murmured.
And she knew it would be okay.
Part Nine
Cass felt like she was in a tropical storm, held only by Lucas’s arms. He’d created that storm inside her body. Her cunt was rippling in pre-orgasmic spasms, her nipples achingly tight from that and his mouth. With every pull on them, the feel of his teeth, the constriction of his hands around the curves, she was undulating and bucking as if she was being whipped and spun, lifted and dropped by those winds. But he had her, his hands not just focusing on breasts and pussy, but also caressing her sides and hips, his eyes flicking up to meet hers, giving her an anchor and mediating what was going on above her, keeping it from disrupting her even as she was digesting it.
She knew Ben was a hardcore sadist, but that move, when he’d jerked Marcie’s head to the side and bit her, had startled Cass, but not as much as the glittering, dangerous look in his eyes,
the suddenly harsh set of his mouth, almost cruel. All the K&A men were powerful. He could break Marcie’s neck by drawing on very little of his strength.
But as the oil changed her view of everything to shades of sensual reds, lush greens and the rolling blue of warm, wet seas, something more than the force of his movement captured her attention. Marcie’s look of near bliss at the rough treatment, her eyes half-closed and lips parted, fingers digging into the sofa cushion even harder. So hard that her biceps contracted under Cass’s hold.
The crack of the belt had made Cass jump, but it hadn’t even touched Marcie. Maybe she’d just close her eyes during this part and get lost in Lucas, blacking out anything or anyone else in the room. Some of that happened naturally anyway, she reasoned. The more he swept her along where he wanted her to go, the more the world narrowed down to just him and his demands. But for some reason she couldn’t do it. Some primitive, fascinated part of her, connected to the thundering heat between her legs, and the erotic, dense heat saturating the room, made her keep watching. Even as her fascination warred with the voice inside her that said, “This is my sister. I need to protect her, evaluate what’s being done to look out for her wellbeing, because she’s too young, I’m her big sister, it’s my job…”
But that voice was overridden by other voices. “Who are you in this moment?” And if she looked at Marcie as a fellow submissive, the wife of the Master punishing her, Cass knew she wasn’t looking at a teenager anymore, but a woman. A deeply submissive woman who needed a hardcore Master’s touch to find satisfaction.
Ben curled one large hand over Marcie’s delicate shoulder, steadying her as he landed the first blow with the doubled-over belt. Marcie’s breath left her in a whoosh that reminded Cass of when she’d had the wind knocked out of her as an amateur gymnast. Marcie had fallen off the high beam and landed flat on her back on the mats. Yet though her face tightened as it had then, she licked her lips and shifted, obviously eager to meet the next blow. Cass could hear the faint buzz of a vibrator and knew Ben was countering the effect of the pain, but she couldn’t imagine it was enough…unless Marcie was embracing and craving the pain.