Eyes Wide Open

by Lucy Felthouse

  Sitting down, Logan patted his lap. “I want you over my knee, Fiona. What sort of underwear do you have on?”

  “A—a thong, Sir. A white one.”

  Closing his eyes briefly and biting his bottom lip, he then said, “That can stay as it is for now, then. Come on, quickly.”

  Moving over to him, her heart rate increasing, Fiona draped herself over Logan’s lap, reaching for the chair leg to help steady herself. As soon as she was in place, he trapped one of her legs between his own, securing her into place. Relaxing a little now that she didn’t think she was going to tumble onto the carpet, she wriggled to get comfortable. It was then that she noticed the hardness poking into her hip. Her body responded immediately and shamelessly, heat racing through her every nerve ending and a trickle of juices seeping into the gusset of her knickers. Before long, it would be obvious to both men just how turned on she was, as the scent of her arousal permeated the air.

  Biting back a moan, she waited for whatever was going to happen next, excited and tentative in equal measure. She’d wanted firsthand experience of BDSM, and now she was about to get it. From an expert, no less and, even better, someone she trusted and was hopelessly attracted to.

  “James,” Logan said, “could you please bring me the paddle? I think that would be best to start with, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir,” James replied, moving immediately to comply. Handing over the implement, he remained nearby, apparently wanting to watch the show close up.

  “Mmm…” Logan lifted the tiny skirt, the timbre of his voice deepening as her backside was exposed. “Such a pretty arse. So pert, so pale. I look forward to marking it. Are you ready, girl?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Your safe word?”

  “Castiel, Sir.”

  “Good. Be sure you don’t forget it. I hope you won’t need it, but you must use it if you feel you need to.”

  For God’s sake, just get on with it, will you?

  Out loud, she repeated, “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter Twenty

  As Logan stroked the cool leather of the paddle over her trembling arse, Fiona couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to compare to the self-experimentation she’d indulged in all those weeks ago. Spanking her own inner thighs in the bath had been the very beginning of her education, and it had stung quite a bit, but she suspected it wouldn’t come even remotely close to preparing her for what was about to happen.

  And yet, she was still much more excited than scared.

  That all changed when the first blow hit her arse. The yelp was out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she gripped hard onto the chair’s leg to stop her snapping her hands up to cover her bum. That would no doubt only get her into trouble. Or, rather, more trouble.

  “What I’m going to do, girl, is give you four blows with each of the implements I’m planning to use on you this evening. I think that is a fair number—a bearable number—for someone so new to this. I feel I should warn you that I may well leave some lasting marks on your luscious arse. Will this be a problem? I don’t want to upset your boyfriend.”

  Frowning, Fiona wondered why he was mentioning a boyfriend when she didn’t have one. But then she realized that they’d never actually had the discussion, so Logan was probably just covering his back. “It’s fine, Sir. I don’t have a boyfriend. Nobody will see my bum except for me.”

  “All right,” Logan replied.

  Then she was pretty sure she heard James say quietly, “No boyfriend? Fucking blokes around here are clearly insane.”

  The compliment, whether it had been intended for her ears or not, warmed her to the very core and had the added benefit of bolstering her resolve. She could deal with whatever Logan was going to dish out. She’d asked for it, after all.

  Blow two arrived soon after, on the opposite buttock. More prepared this time, she didn’t yelp, but still sucked in a breath through her teeth, squeezing her eyes closed as the sharp sound faded away. Milliseconds later, the sensation arrived. Stinging, burning, melding gradually into an ache and a throb, which only served to emphasize the throbbing already taking place between her thighs.

  Smack! Smack! The next two were given in rapid succession, and the overload of sensations raced through her nerve endings and her veins, leaving her in a weird kind of limbo—did this hurt, or was it the hottest thing she’d experienced in her life? Did she want him to stop or carry on?

  All she knew for sure was that her pussy continued to swell and ache, juices leaking from her core. She could smell herself now—the scent of aroused female unmistakable.

  She’d been so focused on what was going on in her brain and body that she’d lost track of what was going on around her. She was reminded immediately when something landed with a wallop on her left arse cheek. Then her right, then left, then right. No pauses this time, no chance for her to get used to the pain or psych herself up for the next spank—just one, two, three, four, in rapid succession.

  A slipper landed on the floor, out of reach, but within her eye line. She suspected it had been thrown there deliberately so she could see it. Pain bloomed in her rear cheeks, and she felt the skin growing hotter and hotter. Not one millimeter from the base of her back to the crease where buttocks met thighs was free of the burning sting, which seemed impossible after only eight blows. How could he have covered so much ground? But then, she supposed he’d had plenty of practice.

  Determined not to be caught unaware this time, Fiona paid attention to what was happening around her. Logan, of course, remained beneath her, pinning her into place, while James returned to the bed and collected the next implement. She didn’t know if he was choosing them, whether Logan was signaling somehow, or if there was some premeditated order. Either way, James had wordlessly picked up the flogger and walked back over to the chair.

  Shit! Fiona bit her lip. If the flogger was one of the gentler implements in the lineup, then she certainly hoped Logan stopped after he’d used it on her. The wickedness of the others wasn’t something she felt she was ready for. And did he plan to add in any of the restraints, the gag or the toys? Or were they focusing only on corporal punishment this evening?

  She didn’t get the chance to ask, because suddenly Logan was tickling the tails of the flogger over her tortured skin. It didn’t hurt, per se, but she suspected that anything that touched her flaming arse, however lightly, would garner an unfavorable reaction. Fingernails would be the absolute worst.

  After a few seconds, the tails stopped their tickling, and Fiona gritted her teeth, preparing for the blows. They came quickly, though not as quickly as those from the slipper, probably because he had to lift the flogger higher to land the hits.

  What felt like a thousand tiny pinpricks exploded across her quivering flesh, expanding and joining together until her bum was one giant expanse of raging agony. Multiplied by four, that agony had her clenching her arse and screeching, calling Logan all the names under the sun. And to think he’d probably gone easy on her.

  Fucking hell, only twelve spanks and she was a roiling mass of hormones and fury. How in the hell did people do this all the time? And with more force, harsher tools, more blows? It was a wonder James could ever sit down, or even walk properly if Logan tortured his arse like that on a regular basis. But then he was much more used to it than she. Perhaps she’d ask for some tips.

  God, what the hell am I thinking? Why do I need tips? I’m never doing this again. No way! She’d taken the spanks she’d all but asked for, determined to do her research thoroughly, and she now had her conclusion. Being beaten was not for her.

  Why then did her pussy lips still feel so bloody swollen? Her clit was screaming out for attention, for stimulation, for climax. If one of the men—or both—threw her to the bed—or even the floor—now and thrust their cock inside her, it would be the best thing ever. Thick, hard flesh penetrating her own, filling her up, stretching her, tantalizing all those nerve endings, taking the frustration that had built up inside
her and transforming it into the orgasm to end all orgasms.

  Christ, she could think of nothing she wanted more. But it seemed, for now at least, that she wasn’t going to get it.

  “Well done, girl,” Logan said, stroking her hair, which had fallen around her like a golden curtain, preventing her from seeing anything except what was immediately in front of her. “You did very well. And”—he stuck his hand between her legs, dipping under her thong to the heat and wetness beneath—“it seems as though you enjoyed it, too. Naughty girl.” He took a sharp swipe at her with his bare hand. The sound was loud, louder somehow than anything that had gone before. She screeched at the new burn in her bum, more so when he evened the score by smacking her arse three more times.

  “Sorry, girl, but I just couldn’t resist. Your reaction was just so delightful. And beautiful. My cock is fit to burst.”

  That much was certainly true. Heat blazed at the point where the rigid cock still poked against her hip, even through three layers of their clothing. And, in spite of her annoyance at those final four spanks, Fiona would happily have sunk the thick length of it inside her and ridden him until her legs gave way.

  When she didn’t respond, he stroked her hair again. “Ready to get your own back, Fiona?”

  A shift then, she realized, from ‘girl’ to ‘Fiona’, which was clearly significant. Now James was at her side, helping her off Logan’s lap, and she accepted his assistance gratefully. Straightening her clothing, such as it was, she grimaced at the sensation of her damp underwear cooling against her skin.

  “What’s the matter?” Logan asked, his tone laced with amusement. “Arse hurting?”

  “No,” she shot back indignantly, determined for him not to know the whole truth. “My knickers are stuck to me, that’s all.”

  Raising his eyebrows, he replied, “Well there’s a simple solution for that now, isn’t there? Hurry now. I think James is more than ready for his spanking, don’t you?”

  Glancing at James’ crotch, she saw the meaning of Logan’s words right before her eyes. James’ cock tented his jeans, and returning her gaze to his face, she saw his expression was as uncomfortable as his cock apparently was. Figuring that the sooner she finished her education, the sooner she could have sex with one or both of them, she caressed James’ cheek then kissed him lightly on the lips.

  Then she hurried out of her thong, kicked it to one side and crossed over to the bed. She wasn’t concerned about figuring out the order of harshness. James had taken every one of these things more than once, and they’d been wielded by someone much stronger and more experienced than she.

  Grabbing the crop, she turned to James. “Clothes off, gorgeous, and bend over the bed.”

  James complied, and Fiona risked a glance at Logan before she continued. She was momentarily surprised to note that he’d freed his cock from the confines of his clothing and was stroking it slowly, so slowly that the action would probably do little more than keep him hard. Which, she supposed, was the point—for now, at least. He wouldn’t want to come at this stage. She was sure he had much more exciting plans for his cock than masturbation when there were plenty of willing, waiting holes at his disposal.

  Licking her lips, she then threw Logan a salacious smile. Returning her attention to her task, suddenly she was reminded that earlier the prospect of doing this very thing had filled her with excitement. Maybe everything that had happened since had muddled her brain somewhat, but now, it couldn’t have been clearer.

  She was going to whip, crop, cane and tawse—was that even a proper word?—James’ delightful backside, and she was going to love every last moment of it. How she knew this without having done it yet, she had no idea, but it didn’t matter. It just was.

  Wafting the crop around in the air a little to get used to the feeling and weight of it, she gripped it tightly, then moved into position.

  “Fiona,” came Logan’s voice.

  She turned. “Yes?”

  “Just be careful, all right? James is experienced in this, but you’re not. So take it easy to begin with, get used to the feel of the crop in your hand, how James is reacting. And, James?” he added.

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “Be sure and use your safe word if needed, all right? Fiona, remember James’ safe word is ‘supernatural’, okay? He uses it, you stop. Understand?”

  Nodding, she remembered that James couldn’t see her. “Yes, Logan, I understand. I’ll be careful, and I’ll stop immediately if James uses his safe word.”

  Turning back to James, she pulled in a deep breath. Then, taking aim at his right buttock, she drew her arm back then immediately snapped it forward, a whoop filling her ears as the crop cut through the air and landed on its target.

  To her surprise, James let out little more than a hiss. Repeating her action on his other bum cheek, but with more force, she hoped for a stronger reaction. Instead, she got more of the same. She hadn’t been told she could only lay four blows with each implement, though, so her best option was to use his high, muscular buttocks as target practice until she hit James’ specific buttons. If she was going to get anything out of this, she wanted to give him pleasure. Surely that was the whole point?

  Getting into a steady rhythm, Fiona built up the force and frequency of the hits, growing to enjoy the power she had more with each passing moment. It was heady, having someone completely at her mercy, someone she could do pretty much anything with or to, someone who’d take anything she wanted to give. And, given that Logan was his Dominant, Fiona figured there was nothing her imagination—despite its fertility—could come up with that James wouldn’t accept. There was no way she’d be able to make him use his safe word.

  And there was no way she wanted to. All she wanted was for them both—and Logan—to have fun. Judging by the increase in James’ breathing, and the occasional moans she’d finally managed to elicit from him, he was.

  Dropping the crop, she moved up next to James and reached for his cock. It stood rigid and red hot, straining up toward his belly button, with pre-cum beading at its tip. With her other hand, she reached around and stroked his arse, which radiated scorching heat. At the contact, James winced a little and his cock leaped in her hand.

  Oh yes, he’d enjoyed that. And her still-throbbing pussy attested to the fact that she had, too. She was in no mood for dissecting the whys and wherefores, however.

  Releasing James, she strode over to the bedside cabinet and retrieved a condom. As she returned to him, she removed the rubber from its wrapper, so it was ready to roll down his length, which she promptly did. Once it was seated securely at the base of his swollen dick, she bent over the bed beside him, flipped up her skirt and said, “James, please fuck me. Now.”

  As James moved to do her bidding, the blunt head of his cock slipping easily through her slick folds and into her entrance, Logan piped up, a tinge of surprise in his tone.

  “Well, James, I think we have ourselves a switch.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The words reached her ears, permeated her brain, but she was far too focused on James’ thick cock easing inside her to react. Instead, she filed away the comment, determined to ask what the hell he was talking about when she and James were finished.

  And that wouldn’t be for a little while yet. He had more restraint than she—again, likely down to practice—and rather than hurrying to enter her, he was taking his time. Tingles raced up her spine and the tiny hairs all over her body stood up as he inched his way inside her, setting off a chain reaction of delicious sensations as he did so.

  The remaining tools and toys were still lined up beside her, unused, but she didn’t care. Logan had made his point, and she felt she’d made hers—she could take pain and give it out. Besides, the thoughts and feelings she’d had while spanking James would be no different, whatever tool she used. And, since their three-way relationship—or whatever it was they were doing—was apparently no longer a one-off, she’d get her chance to play with some of the ot
her things in future.

  Closing her eyes, she let her other senses take over. The scent of sweat and sex filled her nostrils, only serving to make her hotter. The sounds, for now, were minimal. James was still rocking slowly in and out of her grasping hole, so there was no skin slapping against skin, no grunting, growling, screeching or swearing. But they’d come soon enough, she was sure. Instead, elevated breathing and quiet moans were all she picked up.

  Wait—what? Quiet moans? James was right there, his body in hers, on hers, against hers. He was making sounds, sure, but not that quietly…

  Fuck! Twisting to look over at the chair where she’d left Logan, she saw that he was still touching himself, but much faster than he had been before. His hand, gripped tightly around his ruddy shaft, shuttled up and down at a steady speed as he watched the scene playing out before him.

  Their gazes met, and he flashed her a decadent grin that, had she not already been in the middle of a glorious shag, would have made her wet and weak-kneed. Smiling back, she continued to watch him pleasure himself as James treated her to a slow, smoldering screw.

  Logan broke eye contact and raked his gaze over her and James, apparently enjoying the sight of them together. He increased the pace at which he fisted his dick, and bit his bottom lip. Closing his eyes, he let his head loll back on his shoulders as he wanked. The sight was so enticing, so utterly sexy that overwhelming need filled Fiona’s every inch. She needed to come, but James, who apparently wasn’t quite so submissive when it came to Fiona, was intent on teasing her, on drawing out the experience.

  But the teasing wasn’t enough. She needed to come—and soon. Turning back to the bed, her gaze alighted once more on the toys. Grasping the bullet vibrator, she pushed the button at its base, switching it on, and inserted it between her legs, seeking the swollen, slippery bud that so eagerly awaited her touch.