by Lila Dubois
“I, ah, what was I saying?” William asked.
Mirela ducked her head to hide her smile.
“Hurt her. Spank her,” Christoffer said.
“No, no. Don’t hurt her. That’s it.”
“Oh right,” the wolf said, shaking himself. “William, don’t worry, I’ll be here. Mirela and I have been doing, ah, research. I know exactly what turns her on, and I won’t let you hurt her or scare her.”
William wanted to be convinced, wanted what she was offering. That was clear when, the minute Christoffer stopped talking, William stepped forward. Christoffer retreated to a corner to change.
William circled Mirela, looking her up and down. He trailed a finger down her spine and whispered, “You’re beautiful. I want to do things to you…”
“Then do them,” she kissed his fingers where they rested against her shoulder, “Master.”
William spun her around and fisted his hand in her hair. “You’re mine,” he said, squeezing her breast.
“Yes,” Mirela said, unbuttoning his shirt. “All yours.” She finished the buttons, pulled his shirt out of his slacks and spread it open. “May I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
Mirela kissed her way down his chest to his waistband. She undid his belt, then his pants. Tugging both his pants and his briefs midway down his thighs, she took his hard cock in her hands, stroking it for a moment before she got nervous and stood.
When she took a step back she smacked into Christoffer, who cupped her breasts, flicking her nipples with his thumbs.
“Slave, you haven’t done a proper job undressing our Master,” he growled. His words helped her remember their game and his presence reassured her that she was safe. “Master, would you like me to beat this bad girl?” Christoffer asked William.
“No, I don’t think a beating is in order, but maybe a spanking?” Mirela felt Christoffer nod in response to William’s question. She shivered with desire and fear, which were now rolled together into a powerful concoction.
“Get on your knees,” William said, voice arrogant and commanding. “Finish undressing me and then you’ll be over my knee to receive your punishment.”
Mirela sank to her knees, unlacing and removing his shoes, then his socks, pants and underwear. She threw them to the side, though she remembered the girls they’d read about always folding things neatly. She wanted to get to the good stuff now.
William seated himself on the bed. “Come to me.”
When she reached him, William’s big hands forced her down over his lap. She struggled, not because she wanted to get away, but because she wanted him to keep her there.
“Look at this sweet ass,” William said, holding her in place with one hand on her back, the other rubbing her upturned bottom.
He pinched her and Mirela jerked.
“Spread your legs,” he demanded.
Mirela ended up with one leg stretched out on the bed, the other dangling with her toes braced on the floor.
Smack.
William spanked her, a hard swat, but the sting faded quickly to pleasure and warmth.
Fingers brushed her pussy, sliding between the lips of her sex. Two thick fingers tunneled into her.
Smack.
The fingers in her sex pushed deeper at the same instant she was spanked. Mirela looked back to see Christoffer kneeling near her ass, his hand between her legs.
William spanked her three more times, each harder than the last so she was jumping and yelping, her movement impaling her on Christoffer’s fingers.
“I think she’s learned her lesson,” William said.
He rolled Mirela off his lap and guided her to the wall where he attached her jesses to the bolts there.
“Christoffer, on your knees, eat her pussy.”
Christoffer, who was now naked except for a pair of simple leather cuffs on each wrist, dropped to his knees. He kissed her naked mound, pushed her legs apart and started licking the lips of her sex.
“What about, mmm, what about you?” Mirela asked William.
“I’m going to watch.”
As Christoffer lapped at her clit, Mirela watched William. His eyes were dark and wild, the powerful king stripped of his courtly manners. The pleasure built and built, but Mirela didn’t want it to end yet.
“Stop, I don’t want it over,” she said.
“Christoffer, enough.”
With a final nip, Christoffer leaned back. William came closer and bent. “Spread her open so I can see her pretty puss,” he said.
Christoffer used two fingers to push open her sex, even manipulating her clit from side to side so William could see everything. Mirela was nearly wild with arousal by the time he stopped.
“Fuck, please, fuck me,” she said.
“Take her to the bed,” William ordered, arms crossed across his chest.
When Christoffer freed her wrists, Mirela jumped on William, wrapping her arms and legs around and clinging to him. She wanted him, needed him. Mashing their lips together, Mirela swore she could taste his power and control.
Christoffer wrested her away with brute strength and threw her on the bed. Mirela bounced once before Christoffer was there, teeth bared in a growl. Mirela hissed at him and swung her fist at his head. He grabbed her wrist, bringing it toward the head of the bed where he could fasten it in place.
“Wait,” William said. “Christoffer, lie on your back and hold her on top of you.”
With William’s help they got themselves positioned so that Mirela’s breasts rested on Christoffer’s belly, her head on his chest. Her knees were bent, her hips cradled by Christoffer’s bent and spread legs.
“I haven’t taken you like this,” William said, standing beside the bed and stroking her ass. He spanked her lightly. “Christoffer, you are to hold her in place while I fuck her.”
“Yes, Master.”
William climbed on the bed. His fingers were on her ass, his thumbs pulling the lips of her sex apart. Mirela felt the plum head of his cock nudge her and then he slammed into her in one hard thrust. She cried out and wiggled against Christoffer, who held her arms tight to his chest.
William’s cock touched soft places inside, rubbing against her. His thrusts were hard and fast. This was fucking, pure and simple.
“Make her come,” William panted.
Christoffer released one of her wrists and wiggled his hand between them to find her clit. The hard cock inside her, the fingers circling her clit, drew the coil of pleasure in her belly tight, tighter, until she couldn’t hold it together anymore.
Mirela came, biting Christoffer’s chest in a wild flurry of pleasure.
William, panting, pulled from Mirela and flopped down on the bed. “Christoffer, fuck her ass,” he ordered.
Mirela wanted to protest, she was tired, but then Christoffer’s fingers were in her pussy, fluttering over a clit that was so sensitive she cried out at the lightest touch. He rubbed his wet fingers over her ass, and when he would have pushed a finger in, William stopped him.
“No, just fuck her,” William said.
Christoffer pulled the globes of her ass apart, positioned his cock and slammed into her. Mirela screamed in pleasure, in pain. It hurt but it felt good.
Christoffer came in her ass, collapsing when he was done so that Mirela was squished down into the bed. Mirela thought they would be done, but William wanted more.
He ordered Mirela to get washcloths and clean both their cocks, then herself. Once she’d cleaned them he made her lick their cocks.
Then she had to lick and suck Christoffer until he was hard again while William pinched and slapped her dangling breasts.
When Christoffer’s cock was rock hard and dripping with pre-cum, Mirela looked to William. “Please, Master. Fuck me. Make him fuck me, please.”
William regarded her with cool eyes. “No. You will pleasure yourself while I watch.”
Mirela was made to prop herself up on pillows, her legs spread wide, and play with herself while
William watched and Christoffer sucked William’s cock. Mirela found that watching Christoffer pleasure William was intensely arousing, and when William tipped his head back, eyes closed and hands clenched in Christoffer’s hair to hold him in place as he came, she came also, the visual stimulation driving her over the edge.
Thinking that was surely the end of it, Mirela curled up, ready for sleep.
She’d forgotten about the toys they bought. Christoffer hadn’t.
She threw a pillow at him when Christoffer showed William their purchases, but could not really be mad, because when William placed the tweezer-shaped nipple clamps on her Mirela was once more aroused.
Wearing gentle clamps on her nipples and each pussy lip, Mirela was sent on errands all over the house. William made her fetch him glasses of water, a book from his office and finally two heavy silver candlesticks with fat white candles in them.
The swaying of the clamps as well as the naughtiness of being naked in the house had aroused Mirela once more.
She was kneeling, sucking Christoffer’s cock on William’s orders when he asked, “What do you think of these candlesticks, slave?”
Mirela rolled her eyes to look at William while still sucking Christoffer’s cock.
“They are nice, but I can think of a much prettier holder for the candles,” Christoffer said.
Mirela didn’t understand, not until William ordered her to kneel on the bed. The cold, smooth base of the candle pressed into her ass and Mirela cried out, trying to wiggle away. It was not as big as a cock, but it was foreign and frightening. William smacked her ass and told Christoffer to tighten the clamps. Christoffer slid the rings closer to the tips of the clamps so they bit into her nipples.
The candle pushed deep into her ass, deeper than a cock would ever go. Mirela couldn’t help herself—she tried to get away though it didn’t hurt. Christoffer jumped up on the bed next to her and held her hips.
“You’re being bad,” William said, but he didn’t sound upset by that fact.
A second candle was inserted into her pussy.
Then William ordered her to get up and walk around, showing off her clamped nipples, all without letting the candles slip out of her pussy and ass.
She was so wet the candle in her pussy slipped out almost immediately. She caught it and, on William’s orders, pushed it back into place. He then made her walk around from one side of the bed to the other, back and forth, so that he and Christoffer could each take turns playing with the clamps and candles.
She slowly made her way to William for the fourth time, walking with tiny steps so she could keep her thighs clamped together. He grabbed the candle in her pussy and ordered her to spread her legs.
“You like this, don’t you?” he asked, twisting the candle as he rubbed circles around her clit.
“Yesss,” she moaned. It was the first time since inserting the candles that he’d touched her clit directly.
“Fuck your ass with the candle I put in there.”
Mirela obeyed, grabbing the candle and tentatively working it in and out. As the pleasure in her pussy grew, she fucked her ass harder, pushing the candle in deep.
“That’s right, fuck your ass. I’m not going to let you come like this. When you get close I’m going to take the candle out. Then I’m going to have Christoffer shove his cock up that pretty ass and hold you while I fuck your pussy.”
“Yes, oh yes,” Mirela said. His words, the stark look of pleasure on his face, brought her orgasm closer. He slid two fingers down either side of her clit and squeezed.
“William!” she cried out.
He jerked the candle from her pussy and hauled her onto the bed. Christoffer was there, his hands on her ass, pulling the candle out. She was rolled onto her back, lying atop Christoffer, and then his cock was pushing into her ass.
Christoffer bent and spread his legs, forcing Mirela’s along the outside of his own.
William came down on top of her, his cock so hard the skin was shinny from being stretched tight over swollen flesh.
He pushed his cock in, filling her, stretching her, and the double penetration was intense.
After only three thrusts of William’s cock Mirela came, screaming and thrashing. When her nails scored William, Christoffer caught her jesses, jerking her hands away. William fucked her as she panted and moaned, fucked her long and slow so that the orgasm never really ended, only morphed into something new.
William came, crying out her name.
They rolled, a sweaty, tired bundle, so that now Mirela lay facedown on William, his cock still in her, her knees at his waist. Christoffer grabbed her hips, taking his turn fucking her until he too came.
“Everybody breathing?” Christoffer muttered.
William grunted. Mirela mumbled something.
“That’s a yes,” Christoffer said, groaning as he detangled himself and got up. As he left the bed, Mirela snuggled closer to William. Her hair was a messy disaster, her body blotched by red patches. William’s hair stood up on end—he looked as though he’d put his finger in a plug.
Christoffer went to the bathroom, then brought them all fresh washcloths so they could clean up. After a brief debate it was decided they would move to William’s bed, as the sheets were clean.
When Mirela showed signs of mutiny, Christoffer picked her up, carrying her down the hall.
When they were once more in bed, William in the middle, Christoffer was just dropping off to sleep when Mirela’s voice roused him.
“Will you tell us why you were so scared?” she asked.
At first Christoffer wasn’t sure whom she was talking to. “What do you mean?” William asked, clearly as confused as Christoffer.
Mirela propped her chin on her hand. “When we came here, before I ever did anything wrong, you were scared. And then the night I did you said something.” She stroked William’s scarred cheek with soft fingers. “You talked about someone being hurt in the past. Did you not want a Hunting Pair?”
William’s arm, which Christoffer was using as a pillow, went rigid with tension. “I wasn’t scared.”
“Maybe not scared,” Christoffer said, now wide awake, “but you didn’t trust us. Something bad happened to you, didn’t it? You mentioned it once or twice… What was it?”
“That’s none of your concern.” William sat up, clearly intending to leave, but he was trapped in the middle. His face was cold and stern, so unlike the loving man he’d become. He looked from his wolf to his falcon, then sighed, the tension draining from him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You do have a right to know. Let me show you something.”
Mirela moved to the foot of the bed so he could get out. Naked, William padded to his small writing table and pulled out two framed photos from one of the drawers and brought them back to the bed with him.
“My mother and father were married before he received his Hunting Pair. I was a baby when they came, his falcon and wolf. My grandfather had told my father not to tell my mother the truth about the Hunting Pair, and so he didn’t. They came here and lived in a cottage on the grounds under the guise of being some sort of grace and favor lodgers. People who are given a free place to live by the Crown in exchange for past services,” William explained. The frames lay facedown on his lap.
“My father wasn’t a rider or a hunter. He didn’t really care about his Hunting Pair. He’d read law and philosophy and for a brief while was an MP. My grandfather enjoyed his Hunting Pair and had a very different attitude toward them. They’d been all over the world, my grandparents and his wolf and falcon. They’d been hunting in Africa, South America, everywhere. There are many pictures of them all together, both as humans and my grandparents posing with a wolf and falcon.”
“Your grandmother, did she know?”
“She must have. She was an avid outdoorswoman and a great falconer—they met at a falconry event. She loved horses and even rode in the Olympics when it wasn’t proper for women to do so. She died before I was born.
Cancer from smoking.”
“I’m sorry,” Christoffer said, and Mirela murmured the same.
“It was my grandfather who discovered that copper amplified by a magnet could prevent the change. He made the collars. My father didn’t use them, didn’t really do anything with his Hunting Pair. He was trying to be modern. He thought the agreement was antiquated but respected the tradition. After they arrived he set them up in their house and we lived here in the manor house.
“My mother hosted monthly parties. Certain neighbors, the servants and the Hunting Pair came. My father’s falcon was a loud, fat woman. She looked like a witch or the village drunk, with black scraggly hair. She spit when she talked. I was scared of her when I was small.
“My father’s wolf was a tall, thin woman. She looked like an athlete and loved to run and hike. My mother had put on a bit of weight and wasn’t happy with the way she looked, and so she asked the wolf if they might go walking together so she could get some exercise.
“My mother and the wolf became friends, and she started coming up to the house more often. The falcon always came too, though I don’t know why. Life continued that way for almost a year. There was a bad rain and the roof of the house the Hunting Pair was living in collapsed. My mother invited them to move to the manor house while it was being repaired.”
William flipped over one of the frames, showing a formal family painting. William stood by his mother’s chair, no more than seven or eight in the picture. He had fat cheeks and his ears stuck out.
Mirela giggled. “You were a cute boy.”
William’s mother was lovely, with brown hair and eyes. There was a hint of a smile about her mouth. William’s father stood behind her chair, his serious expression and timeless dark suit making him appear every inch the Lord of Eahrington.
“What no one knew is that the wolf was seeing a man in the village. She became pregnant.”
“Shit,” Christoffer cursed.
“I see you understand,” William said quietly.
“What? I don’t understand,” Mirela said.
“A breeding female wolf is very dangerous,” Christoffer said, “even when they’re human. A breeding female and her mate will usually start a pack of their own when she becomes pregnant. Even if she still reports to a larger pack she will want to have a pack of her own, in which there are no other females. A pregnant wolf will fight to make sure they’re the only female in their pack.