Valley of Surrender Series - Vol.1

by Trent Evans

  “Beautiful, just like I said. You heard him.” Troy gave her a mock scowl. “I told you, Lacey.”

  “Gorgeous,” Hunter added, then cleared his throat. “You’re not quite done though.”

  Now we’re talking, Hunter!

  Troy beamed at him, and gave him a wink. “He’s right, Lacey. Top off, then turn around. Hands on the back of your head.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said softly.

  The red shirt soon joined the skirt in a pile, and she turned, reluctance in every step. Her breasts, still heavy with milk though she was in the process of weaning Hayden, swung as she faced them both. Her eyes were downcast, the little muscles of her biceps flexing as she locked her hands behind her head. Hunter’s eyes seemed to rove everywhere, his erection now blatantly tenting his jeans.

  Troy could relate.

  The dark shock of thick curls between her strong thighs immediately drew his eye, the pubic hair trimmed into a pleasing delta. He’d allowed to grow much more fully than what seemed currently in fashion with women. He longed to stroke his fingers through it.

  “You don’t shave her?”

  He liked the way Hunter talked about Lacey’s cunt as if she weren’t even there. Another very good sign indeed.

  Troy nodded. “Making her try something new. As much as I like her pussy exposed, it gets old eventually. I might make her keep it this way for a while.”

  “Well, I like it,” Hunter said, smiling at her despite her downcast eyes. “Very pretty.”

  She shifted her weight. “Sir, I—”

  “Be quiet.” Troy let steel creep into his voice. “Let him look at you. You might have thought about this when you were arguing with me earlier this week about how you looked. Maybe after tonight you’ll think twice about doing that again.”

  Her white teeth worked her upper lip between them, but she nodded.

  “Sorry, Sir.”

  My good girl.

  “What about the rest of her, Hunter?”

  They both looked upon her, the network of ghostly veins visible beneath the surface of the pale skin of her milk heavy breasts drawing the eye immediately, the nipples and areolas still quite dark. It never failed to turn Troy on either, much to Lacey’s embarrassment.

  Her belly was still rounded, but by no means fat. There were a few stretch marks visible, toward the sides of her abdomen, but rather than marring her appearance, he found them appealing, a sign of both what she’d been through and something he suspected she was very self-conscious of. That self-consciousness, that vulnerability, simply fanned his lust for her higher.

  If he knew his best friend, he suspected his feelings would be very similar indeed.

  There was some loose skin along the lower curves of her belly — to be expected with pregnancy — but she was almost back to normal already — was at only a few months’ post-partum.

  “She looks amazing, Troy. Her body’s snapped back so fast. I can hardly believe it. Love her tits though — shame you couldn’t keep them that way all the time.”

  Troy chuckled at that, savoring the beginning of another sweet blush for Lacey.

  She peered at Hunter from under dark lashes, her face flaming.

  Hunter smiled at her. “You’re gorgeous, Lacey. You should never call yourself fat. You look like a woman. And a beautiful one, too. You need to listen to your husband.”

  “Which is where you come in, Hunt.” Troy stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his hands catching her breasts, lifting them in his palms.

  Her head fell back as he whispered in her ear. “You’re doing so well, sweet girl.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, then looked at Hunter.

  “She needs a reminder to listen to her husband, and to stop being so hard on herself.”

  A moan escaped her lips as he squeezed her nipples, a shudder passing through her body.

  “Come here, Lacey,” Hunter patted his thigh. “Over my lap. Time to redden that big bottom of yours.”

  Troy smiled again, loving the way Hunter seemed to be getting into the swing of things when it came to gentle verbal humiliation. He knew his wife loved it, no matter how crimson her cheeks became, and the fact that Hunter seemed to take to it naturally was yet another encouraging sign.

  He urged her toward Hunter. She lowered herself over, her entire body trembling violently as her weight settled upon his lap. Hunter’s jaw tightened visibly when she wiggled against him, seating her hips at just the right angle to facilitate her spanking. Just as she’d been exactingly trained.

  Troy offered the paddle to Hunter, but he shook his head, holding up his hand with a lift of his eyebrow.

  For a split second, Troy’s body grew tense at the prospect this was really going to happen. But it was Hunter. He trusted his very life with the man. He could do this — he hoped. He had to try.

  For her.

  “Cold!” Lacey murmured, shuddering over his lap as Hunter took her bottom cheek in his hand, squeezing, goose flesh spreading over her skin. The sight had Troy’s cock twitching, both jealous and at the same time loving the voyeuristic thrill of being able to watch her reactions from afar.

  It was a huge moment for them… and Troy was shocked at how easily they’d all gotten through it.

  He hoped it was a good omen for what might come next.

  As Troy sat back down in his chair. Hunter stroked the broad, round buttocks, seeming to take his time, as if he were familiarizing himself with the gorgeous canvas he was about to practice his sadistic craft upon.

  He knew the feeling.

  The fire popped loudly, and Lacey jerked. Hunter stroked her hip, smiling.

  He brought his hand down hard, the smack ringing out, and Lacey yelped. The handprint left behind on her skin was pale, then as the blood rushed back, deepened to pink then an angry red. He smacked her other buttock, and then his hand stilled, gripping her bottom firmly.

  Then Hunter took up a steady rain of blows, landing hard smacks on each cheek, alternating between each side. He varied his angle of attack, sometimes giving her hard, slow spanks, then following with a rapid-fire storm of them until her body reared up off the couch, her legs kicking in anguish.

  Troy was usually quite strict with her, and as a result she was quite stoic under Hunter’s initial flurry. But he suspected Hunter would see that as a challenge — and he had no doubt his best friend was more than capable of rising to meet it. In more ways than one.

  Poor girl.

  He smacked her ass harder, this time on the lowest part of her cheeks, where they were the softest, and he stroked her there lovingly between blows. Troy loved the way her broad bottom shook and wobbled under each strike, the view much better from his vantage point.

  Hunter stopped to spread her buttocks, and Lacey hid her face in her folded arms. Aiming carefully, he spanked the inner slopes between the cheeks, pausing occasionally to stroke the soft whorl of her exposed anus as she whimpered her mortification.

  Jesus Christ.

  Apparently, any reservations he may have had that Hunter would be reticent about taking advantage of his power — temporary though it might be — over Lacey were entirely unjustified. And watching the way his best friend so ably handled Lacey’s body was deeply arousing in a way he wasn’t quite prepared for.

  He could get used to this.

  Troy’s cock was so hard, he was afraid he might make a mess of his pants.

  Hunter struck methodically, one side then the next, repeating it until Lacey began to sniffle and the inner curves of her bottom blazed as brightly red as the rest.

  “That’s a girl,” Troy said, his voice a rumble. He sat forward, his elbows on his legs. “Be good now. Relax that bottom for Hunter. I want you to feel this, Lacey girl.”

  Incredibly, she obeyed, her body stilling, her bottom unclenching. Hunter paused a moment to stroke and squeeze the lush flesh of her buttocks, his fingertips tracing the swollen marks.

  Then he began again, raining down progressively
harsher blows until her bottom glowed red, the hand prints so numerous that they merged into a deep red smudge, and she groaned softly, her voice breaking at a particularly harsh spank.

  “The next time your husband tells you you’re beautiful, what are you going to do, Lacey?” Hunter marched smacks down first her left thigh, then the right, and she cried out.

  “Listen… to him. Sir.”

  “That’s right. Good girl.” Hunter urged her legs apart and landed a harsh smack to each soft inner thigh, making Lacey keen, her head coming up.

  “Please!”

  Fuck me. Go Hunter!

  Hunter growled the words, leaning over her. “Next time you feel like putting yourself down, and ignoring the truth, ignoring your husband, you’ll remember this, won’t you?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “If he ever has to call me back to punish you some more, I’ll come witness what happens on a real Maintenance Night.” Hunter stilled his hand, her welted flesh a mottled crimson. “And you’ll get more than a spanking then, won’t you?”

  Her back hitched once and she swallowed a sob. “Yes, sir. I’m very s-sorry. I’ll listen, I promise.”

  “Your husband loves you very much, Lacey. And all he wants is what’s best for you. Listen to him, and you’ll never go wrong. Do you believe me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You call me Hunter. Your husband is your Sir.”

  “Yes, Hunter.”

  Hunter met his gaze then, and he nodded to his friend, smiling.

  He’d done it. The asshole had actually gone through with it. And to Troy’s shock, it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen.

  But more than that, they had done it — for it was much more than Hunter being tested tonight.

  If he could let this one special man touch — and punish — Lacey… perhaps there were far more avenues that could be explored.

  It was but the first step, but there was no doubt it was a giant one.

  Lacey began to weep, and Troy stopped himself from going to her, seeing Hunter gently stroke her hair. Troy suspected it was a flood of emotion his sweet wife could hold back no longer.

  “Say it, Lacey,” he said, knowing she needed this one final push. “Tell us everything now.”

  “I’m so sorry, sir.” Her voice warbled, and she took a deep breath to steady it. “I’m so sorry for not listening to you. I’m… I’m worried you won’t love me anymore, won’t want me. I’m trying, but I can’t help it. I’ll obey you, and I’ll listen.” Her voice settled, and her body relaxed as Hunter continued the soft caressing of her dark, silky locks. “Thank you for helping me see, for still loving me.”

  Troy slipped from his chair, kneeling next to his wife, kissing her cheek, his hand in her hair.

  “Lacey girl, I love you so much. And I’ll never stop loving you.”

  She pressed a kiss to his hand. “I love you too, sir. I’m sorry.”

  Then she craned her head back at Hunter, her smile bright despite the tears brimming from her beautiful eyes. “Thank you for s-spanking me, Hunter. Thank you for… caring about me.”

  For one moment, he saw a flash of agonizing wistfulness in his friend’s gaze. Then it was gone.

  “Troy is one lucky son of a bitch.”

  With a mischievous sparkle in her eye, her hand closed over Hunter’s, gently squeezing as she whispered it.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  Chapter 26

  The last time they’d been to Von’s house, there were a lot fewer cars in the driveway.

  Winter wind, cold and biting, whipped around her bare legs, the sky a slate gray, the cloud deck so low it seemed to kiss the rooftops. The heavy cloak, though fashionable, and surprisingly comfy, was utterly failing to keep her from freezing. It was little more than a windbreak in weather this frigid.

  She wasn’t at all dressed for the conditions, but today that was the least of her concerns.

  Troy led her by the hand up the porch steps and through the front door, the shivers just beginning to course down her body. It was blessedly warm inside, every light in the house blazing.

  As if she were a recalcitrant school girl who couldn’t be trusted to find her way to the principal’s office on her own without bolting in terror, Troy maintained his tight grip on her hand.

  Though the driveway indicated otherwise, the house seemed deserted.

  Troy stopped her in the hallway, a flick of his gaze down at the long, carved maple bench indicating where he wanted her.

  “Let me have the cloak first.”

  Reluctantly, she untied the sash at her neck and slipped the heavy cloth from her shoulders. He draped it over one arm, his intense gaze coursing over her form as she took a seat. The boy shorts rode up as she did, and she cursed their snugness, wishing for the thousandth time that she’d have been able to lose that last five pounds of baby weight. The shaming white tank top was just as tight, making her breasts feel obscenely prominent, even vulgar. She blushed all over again at the words emblazoned across the front, caressing the curves of her breasts as she knew Troy’s hands would be shortly.

  “Jesus Christ, Lacey. I love your uniform.”

  The crotch of his slacks bulged blatantly.

  “Troy, please…” She looked at the floor, unable to meet his intent, lust-filled gaze.

  “Don’t get used to it though on days like this. After today, the only people who’ll get to see it will be the lucky folks we invite to our house for your little maintenance nights. Would you like that?”

  “You… you’re serious?”

  His dark eyes flashed. “If I felt it was warranted, of course. Might be good for you once in a while.”

  “Oh God.” She buried her face in her hands, her mortification warring with the furnace of heat between her thighs, her nipples twin points of steel hardness.

  Troy’s amused chuckle wasn’t helping either, his enjoyment of her embarrassment something that had a twisted, confusing effect on her as well.

  Yeah, like the fact it makes your pussy wet.

  His finger lifted her chin, and she found his expression had sobered, a welcome warmth back in his eyes that both melted her and gave her strength.

  “This is your last chance. I shouldn’t even be giving you this, but… I just need to be sure. This isn’t going to be easy on you — and I’ll enjoy that fact. I won’t be the only one enjoying it either, trust me.”

  Her heart began to gallop, her clit tingling, betraying her.

  “So, one more time, I have to know.” He caressed her lower lip with his thumb. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

  She wasn’t at all sure she could go through with this, the prospect a terrifying unknown. But her seething pussy, her hard nipples, her racing pulse, and the dark, twisted thoughts racing through her mind overruled all of it. She was going to go through with this, ready or not. She hadn’t come this far with her husband to fall at the last gate.

  Kissing his finger, she gave him her bravest smile. “I can do it, sir.”

  “But do you want to do it?”

  “If it pleases you, I’ll do just about anything.”

  And she would too.

  His head lifted as he regarded her for a moment, looking down his nose at her, the silence of the house growing even more profound. Then he reached into the pocket of his suit coat, drawing forth a gleaming set of cuffs, the linking chain glinting as it caught the light. “Give me your hands then, brave girl.”

  Her smiled beamed even brighter at the sweet words of praise. Encouragement from her husband never failed to make her chest swell with joy, and a simple, pure pride that she’d made him happy.

  She just hoped that warm feeling would carry her through the next few minutes.

  A few minutes she was sure were likely to be… rather uncomfortable.

  The metal was cold, heavy as it wrapped about her wrists, Troy pressing her hands down to her lap as he crouched before her. The dark suit was cut so well, displaying the
breadth of his strong shoulders, the narrowness of his hips, the muscles of his thighs bulging at either side of her as he leaned close, stroking her bare knees.

  “Whatever happens, you’re to obey, Lacey girl. If you’re unsure of something, you look to me.” He clutched her knees tightly, and she caught her breath at the strength of his fingers, wishing he’d use that strength to help fight the raging fire at her core. “Do as you’re told. Make me proud, Lacey girl.”

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured.

  He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, and she basked in it, wanting it to go on forever. Then he stood, looking her over one last time before opening the heavy wooden door that led to Von’s study. “You’ll be called in shortly. Be good.”

  The door slammed shut, and she was left with nothing but the pounding of her pulse, the rushing in her ears, for company.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there, perhaps it was two minutes, or twenty. Either way, it seemed an eternity, dread and lust and confusion drowning out any higher reasoning. She was really doing this.

  The door to the study swung open, though no one stood in the entrance. “Lacey Warren?” A deep — and familiar — voice intoned. “You may enter.”

  On wobbly legs, she walked into the study, struck again by the richness of the atmosphere. Though Von was a roughhewn contractor, his study was something she’d have pictured a college professor might have at home, one wall taken up by floor to ceiling shelves filled with books. At either side of the room, were opulent upholstered easy chairs, the chocolate color of the fabric making her want to run her hand along its softness. Across the room, opposite the shelves, stood a long table, its dark wood surface varnished until it gleamed. Behind it, the muted gray light of the afternoon filtered through diaphanous window drapes, the translucence casting a warm glow over the entire space.

  Seated at the table were Von, Keenan, and Troy, their somber expressions making Lacey’s stomach sink. An overstuffed leather ottoman, placed directly in front of the table, was the only other furniture in the room. It was strange that nothing else was—

  She froze as she saw the corner. There were two silent women there.