The Delaneys At Home
Page 5
As he spoke, Mark turned me to one side so my cock was pointing straight at Johnny, who knelt on the floor and, without further ado, wrapped his mouth right around me. I almost came there and then, and had to think about the five worst customers the gallery had ever known in order to keep back the floodtides. Even then, it only just kept me under. Damn the Delaneys for going right for the burn without any kind of warm-up. Hadn't they ever read the How to Play Fair manual? Not that I was complaining. Not really.
Mark allowed me to enjoy a few minutes of Johnny's expert mouth before giving his brother the nod. Time for my second spanking session, and I braced myself against the bars, making sure my cock once again had room to maneuver.
I was expecting five, but instead I got ten. Hard and fast, so I barely had time to realize I'd been spanked once when the next blow had already descended. I yelled out and kept on yelling until Mark stopped. I found I was gulping down sobs, tears wetting my cheeks, my whole body unable to stop trembling. At the same time, pre-cum leaked from my cock and it was so stiff it was almost painful.
A hand on my shoulder and then the heat of Mark's breath against my ear. "Take it. Take it for me, for us."
"Y-yes, sirs," I managed to gulp out. "I'll try."
"Good. Well done. But why? Why do you want to take your punishment like this? You're a grown man. You don't have to allow me, or anyone, to spank you. You can say the word anytime and simply walk away. So, tell us, why do you let it happen like this?"
God, no pressure then. If this was what the twins wanted to know, then I'd have to dig pretty damn deep to tell them. Maybe deeper than I really wanted to go and I didn't know what I felt about it. Weird how up to now being with the twins had been the most amount of fun I'd ever experienced, even when they were testing me. Now, however, it felt different, more serious. I started to pant, sobs caught in my throat, but somehow heavier. The squeeze of Johnny's fingers on my leg made me feel safe.
"Stay calm, Liam. Mark and I, we've got you. You're okay with us."
"Yes, sir," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."
"So tell us," Johnny said, "because you want to."
I bowed my head. He was right, and I supposed if I were going to trust anyone, it would be them.
"I really like it," I said, pressing my face closer into the bars and shutting my eyes to avoid their gaze. I know Mark hadn't given me permission, but I hoped he'd let it go. "I like it when all your attention is on me, whether you're terrifying me, hurting me or loving me. It makes me feel important and special. I don't want anyone else to do those things to me. Just you two. Sirs."
"Alright," Mark said, after a pause during which I opened my eyes and blinked away a fresh onslaught of tears. "So you need us. How much?"
"Totally, sir."
"More than we need you?"
I swallowed.
"Yes, sir. I need you both far more than you'll ever need me. Jesus, I'm going to come."
Frantically, I twisted round, shoving my cock against the bars, half intentionally, half not. Damn, but it hurt more than I'd thought it would. And it was self-inflicted as well, rather than twin-inflicted, which was a whole other ball game, as it were. At the same time, Johnny seized my base, thank God, and helped push the orgasm back. Teamwork, as they say, was all. The last thing I wanted was for Mark to stop the spanking.
"Sorry, sir," I murmured when my threat of potential fall-out had eased. What was it about admitting need that made me so damn horny? Thank God I'd never dated a psychiatrist.
"No problem. You didn't come, and I liked your answer. I think my brother's prepared to give you some more downtime now."
He certainly was. Johnny's tongue could have won Olympic gold if there'd been a competition for Best British Blowjob, but it was probably a wise move not to deepthroat me this time. I certainly wouldn't have been responsible for my reactions. Instead, he licked and kissed and nuzzled me until I was almost flying, stretched out somewhere between the stinging pain of my buttocks and the high excitement of my cock. Somewhere, someone groaned in delight, and I thought it was probably me.
When he finished, I was dripping almost as fast as Johnny could lick me clean, but ready for whatever Mark could lay upon me. God, I hoped I didn't have long to wait.
"Last session, Liam," he whispered, his breath achingly hot against my neck. "You're so nearly there. Hold on."
Before I could think to prepare myself, the spanking began again. If it were possible, I'd have said the strokes were even harsher, with Mark surely putting his whole strength behind his punishment. I found myself yelling and crying and gasping, as each stinging blow made my cock just a little bit harder and just a little bit harder again.
"No!" I roared. "I won't come, I won't! You can't make me."
But the best-laid plans of mice and men, especially naked men clinging to a metal cage whilst being alternately spanked and sucked off, were doomed to failure tonight. Mark's last blow landed full square on my arse. The next second I heard the sound of something dropping onto the carpet, then a slicked finger was plunged right inside my hole, making me shout as it breached my muscle. I lost any semblance of control and shot my load over and over again, spunk pumping out over the duvet.
At the same time, Johnny manhandled me sideways and took my still spouting cock deep in his mouth, sucking me down and swallowing the rest of my load until I couldn't tell where he ended and I began. It was true of Mark, too, his fingers--two of them now--plunging inside my arsehole, taking me over the edge and fully into the deep, even as the pain began to kick back. I mumbled something about being sorry I'd not done what he'd asked me to, but didn't know if my shattered words made sense or not. It didn't matter.
"Oh, but I can change my mind about whether you come or not anytime I like," Mark whispered. "And I can make you come any time I like, too, whether you want to or not."
"Yes, sir. Yes you can, absolutely. Master. You can do anything."
With that, he removed his finger and kissed me to ease the sense of loss. When Johnny had finished suckling at my wilting cock, he wiped his mouth, leaned over and pushed at something at the bottom of the bed. Silently, the metal cage lifted, folding itself up and disappearing into its home in the ceiling as if it had never been there at all. If it was even half as wiped out and blissed out as I was, it would be doing pretty well for itself, all in all.
Heck, I hoped I hadn't seen the last of it.
After the bed was clear of anything potentially damaging, Johnny pushed me gently facedown across the covers. He and Mark joined me, one twin at my left side and the other at my right.
I wondered briefly if, in the light of our latest encounter, they might have forgotten all about the fact I used to paint and--far worse--had lied to them about it. I thought wrong.
Because as the three of us lay spread-eagled across the bed, Mark turned to me and took my face in his hands as Johnny snuggled closer into my other side. "You've handled your punishment so well, you'll have no problems when we have dinner at your parents' house tomorrow. And if the conversation happens to turn to ideas about art in general, and your art in particular, as my brother tells me it will, then you'll have no issue with taking to heart what people have to say about it. And you won't ever lie to us again, will you?"
I gulped. Johnny whispered something soft against my ear, but I couldn't quite make out the words. When I closed my eyes, Mark shook me, softly but with an intent I couldn't ignore.
"Look at me, Liam. I didn't tell you not to. And answer my question."
"Best do it, love," Johnny's whisper and, more than anything, his unexpected endearment gave me the push I needed.
I opened my eyes. Mark was gazing at me as if he wanted to drink me in, as if he was waiting for something only I could give him, but was unsure if he could trust me enough to do it.
"I won't ever lie to you again," I said. "I promise you...both of you. But I'm scared. I can't change that."
For a moment or two, Mark was silent
and then he smiled.
"I know," he said. "Johnny and I didn't get to be as successful as this without knowing when people are scared. But now you're one of us, so there aren't any secrets and there aren't any lies. That's how we survive."
"Yes, sir."
"Not only that," he continued, "but we like our people to achieve their best potential and we'll do anything we can to help them. In business, as in life, loyalty is all."
"Yes, sir, but what if they aren't able to fulfill their potential? What then?"
Mark frowned, and I wondered if maybe I should have left the question unasked, especially as visions of the bodies of those failed potential achievers were even now floating lifeless down the river in my head or lying trussed up in some abandoned garage somewhere, awaiting discovery by a passing dog-walker.
I should stop watching all those TV crime dramas, but once a thriller junkie, always a thriller junkie, I supposed.
"Listen to me, won't you?" Mark said with a sigh and gripping my face even more firmly. "If that happens, then you'll have tried. But not trying isn't an option."
"Okay," I managed to say, with some difficulty, as Mark's hold on me forced my mouth into a shape it wasn't used to in normal conversation. "Okay, so all you're asking me to do is go back and look at something I wasn't very good at compared to my father, chat about it to my parents and never lie to you about things which make me shit-scared again, sir."
Johnny chuckled. "I think that's about the size of it."
"Good-oh," I replied, my lips returning to their usual shape as Mark released me, presumably having got whatever he'd been waiting for. "In that case, I can't wait. Roll on tomorrow."
"That's our boy," Mark said. "We knew you wouldn't let us down."
I could only admire his confidence in me. Whether my parents would say the same was, of course, an entirely different affair. One thing about the Delaneys was certain: being at home with them was never going to be dull.
Anne Brooke
Anne Brooke's fiction has been shortlisted for the Harry Bowling Novel Award, the Royal Literary Fund Awards, and the Asham Award for Women Writers. She has also twice been the winner of the DSJT Charitable Trust Open Poetry Competition. She loves reading dark and quirky crime novels and has a secret passion for theatre-going and chocolate. Preferably at the same time. She once took a balloon flight in Egypt but spent most of the time screaming, and she hopes she never has to do it again.
To learn more about Anne and her writing, please visit her website at: http://www.annebrooke.com
* * * *
Don't miss The Delaneys And Me, by Anne Brooke,
available at AmberAllure.com!
When Liam makes a scene in the middle of a restaurant after his boyfriend, Brandon, dumps him, he knows Brandon's cousins, the Delaney twins, will be after him. The Delaneys head up the local gangster scene and are not to be messed with. Liam knows their retribution is imminent, especially since, in the heat of the moment, he threatened to take what he knows (and, really, he doesn't know much) to the police.
It's a recipe for disaster.
But when the Delaneys confront Liam, they give him a choice between being shot or having sex with both of them, and Liam senses that his evening might turn out to be rather more interesting than originally expected...
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