by Trent Evans
Of all the people he thought he’d find on this little trip, she was the one he’d never have expected. “I thought you were working? Where’s the little one?”
“Lacey’s parents offered to take the kid for a week. So I asked Lacey to take a couple vacation days,” Troy said, taking his wife his arms, kissing her dark hair and inhaling deeply. He turned her so that she faced Hunter, the too-gorgeous woman squinting up against the brilliance of the sun. “Now, go give Hunter a hug too, girl.”
It felt way too good to have her in his arms again, her soft breasts pillowing against his chest as he embraced her.
“Good to see you again, Hunter,” she whispered, clinging to him perhaps a moment longer than Hunter was ready for. He saw the hint of a blush as she met his gaze — and more than a little excitement firing in her deep brown eyes.
What?
He almost staggered backward at it. In a different situation, he might have mistook that flash in her eyes for something other than mere excitement. The word he’d have used was… arousal.
You’re fucking kidding yourself. You’ve been daydreaming about her for way too long. Just stop this shit.
The glass door slid open again and the towering form of Von stepped out into the sun, the man leading Celina by the hand. Von’s wife was dressed in the same style of robe, though this one was a dark red, loosely tied, revealing deep cleavage, the slopes of her breasts wobbling as she dashed over to embrace Troy. She gave Hunter a small, seemingly bashful nod of acknowledgment, then turned to Lacey.
“I didn’t know you’d be here!” Celina flicked a look back at her husband. “You should’ve told me!”
“Careful now,” Von said. While his smile was indulgent, the timbre of his deep voice signaled that he’d let his fiery wife go only so far.
“Troy wanted it to be surprise”—Lacey glanced back up at Hunter, giving him a winning smile—“for both of you.”
“Mission accomplished,” Hunter said, not realizing — until both women laughed — that he’d spoken the words aloud.
Von clapped his hands together. “Girls, you need to prepare yourselves. I’ll be right back.”
Their laughter faded in an instant, the color draining from Celina’s olive-toned features.
Slipping open the door, Von disappeared inside, the mood suddenly somber on the deck.
Hunter caught Troy’s eye, the man giving him a mischievous curl of his lips. Troy grasped Lacey by the upper arms. “You know what’s expected of you, don’t you?”
Lacey froze for just a moment, then closed her eyes, swallowing. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
Celina, standing a couple feet away, seemed lost at sea, and Hunter couldn’t help the urge to go to her and take her hand. “You’re going to be fine. It’s just us.”
She looked at their linked hands, then up at him. “I know.” Her gaze grew fond. “I’m glad it’s you who’ll see this… and not someone else.”
See what?
“You heard Von, girls.” Troy stepped away from the edge of the deck. “You two — over there. Face the railing.”
“Yes, sir,” both women murmured almost in unison, as they obeyed, their slim backs turned toward the men.
Hunter’s cock was already hard, and he still had no idea what to expect. Troy had cryptically told him “more of what we got that first night — and maybe something extra.”
Fucker.
He already suspected what might be under those robes — though he didn’t think he’d get a chance to find out for sure. At least not out there in the broad daylight.
“Take off your robes,” Troy said, nodding at Hunter, beckoning him over to stand next to him — directly behind the two silent, nervous females.
One of them — Celina, Hunter thought — took in a deep breath, then their hands were untying the sashes that bound the robes about their waists.
Lacey peered back at them over one shoulder. “Troy…”
“Do. It.”
“What about… the neighbors?”
Hunter had been wondering the same thing himself, though it still didn’t stop him from praying they’d drop their robes as soon as fucking possible.
Von’s house, though on a hill — and on a very large lot — did have neighbors on either side. The deck faced out toward the backyard, the gentle green slope of which stretched out in a broad swath down the hillside, ending at the beginning of a thick stand of evergreens perhaps a hundred feet from the house. The conifers and dense underbrush served as a greenbelt between the lots, and beyond the trees, another house could be seen, though it was at least two hundred feet away, and at a significantly lower elevation. Despite the considerable distance between houses, Hunter suspected that was cold comfort for the two females who’d been ordered to disrobe in broad daylight, in full view of anyone who cared to look their way.
“What about the neighbors, Lacey? If they look, they look. You know that doesn’t matter here.” Troy walked up to her, a threatening palm laid upon her robe-clad bottom. “What matters here is that you do as you’re told — at all times. We discussed this, did we not?”
“Yes, but—”
“Are you objecting then?” Troy’s hand squeezed Lacey’s ass, and she drew a sharp breath.
“No… no, I’m not.”
“Then do as you’re told.” Troy tapped Lacey’s companion’s bottom as well, backing up toward Hunter again. “That goes for you too, Celina.”
Her murmured acknowledgment wasn’t quite audible over the sound of the breeze, but Celina’s tanned, bare shoulder came into view as she reluctantly lowered her robe. Lacey followed suit, revealing the expanse of her pale back, her coloring of a much lighter hue than her partner beside her.
Hunter’s cock leapt as the silk fell to the weathered boards of the deck.
Both woman were completely naked, the sunshine bright on Lacey’s clear, white skin, Celina’s tan shining alluringly in the daylight.
“Now, lean over. Elbows on the top rail,” Troy growled. “If those tits aren’t dangling, you aren’t over far enough.”
Both women obeyed, bending over. Lacey laid her cheek down upon her arms, while Celina kept her head up. The position perfectly displayed a pair of buxom bottoms out of the most feverish of male dreams. Broad, round and soft, the buttocks trembled slightly as one, then the other woman, shifted her weight upon bare feet. Both pussies could just barely be seen huddling between plump thighs, Celina’s pubic hair a rich dark growth, shrouding the outline of her sex. Lacey on the other hand had been shorn of everything — a difference from the last time he’d seen her, and one Hunter found he liked very much indeed. Between plump, close-seamed labia, he could just make out the bright pink of her inner lips, her sex like a swollen, ripe peach he was positively itching to sample.
Jesus, Hunter.
He could almost feel the mortification coming off of both of them in waves, but the women were remarkably calm, all things considered, the only thing giving away their tension being the trembling of their thighs, the quickness of their breathing.
The sliding glass door behind them opened once more. “Now, is there any better decoration for a man’s deck than two naked asses as fine as these?” Von stepped out, a long leather case tucked under one arm. He’d changed into a tight-fitting gray t-shirt and blue jeans. The shirt, stretched across his broad chest, read White Valley Police in blocky, black lettering.
“Were you a cop too?” Hunter couldn’t help but blurt it out, so surprised was he to see the shirt.
“In one of my former lives,” Von said, giving him a wink as he set the case down on the table next to Troy and Hunter. “Now, ladies. Listen up.”
Both women froze, seeming to have stopped even breathing, only the strands of their dark hair shifting in the breeze.
Von opened the case, revealing a selection of canes, straps, crops, paddles and whips, secured by threads against a green felt background. It was a fine case — containing dreadful implements.
“Tomorrow, we’ll be attending a Session, won’t we?” Von picked out the lethal black length of a crop, crossing his arms over his chest, the implement of pain dangling by a strap from one wrist, swinging languidly as he paced behind the pair of waiting bottoms. “But before we do, your husbands want to make sure you understand something.” Von turned to Troy, an eyebrow raised.
Troy stepped forward, the white button down he wore fit snug snugly to his torso, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders. “No matter what happens in the next couple of days, no matter how many tears you cry, no matter whose hands — or anything else — touch you, you’re to remember one thing.”
“You’re ours,” Von growled, snapping the crop through the air.
Troy continued. “Though here in this place others may look, others may touch, and others may even have you — if we allow it — you will always come back to whom you belong to. And who is that?”
“You, Master,” both women said in soft, tremulous voices.
“Louder!” Von barked.
“You, Master!”
“Good,” Von continued to pace behind the women, Troy looking on, his visage stern now, a familiar sight when Hunter had witnessed him disciplining his Lacey.
“Celina, who do you belong to?” Von touched his wife’s hip with the flapper of the crop. “Whose property are you?”
“Yours, Master.”
The different honorific wasn’t lost on Hunter either. Where both women formerly used ‘Sir,’ now it was ‘Master.’ What had changed? Had anything changed? He considered that perhaps this was a mere show of sorts, for his benefit.
The watcher. The interloper. The fifth wheel.
Hunter looked away, disgusted at himself again. He was nothing but a voyeur here. While that might have been enough at one point — in fact, comfortable — he’d since changed. He needed more now. He needed someone to hold, to mold, to discipline. Someone to make his.
Someone to love again.
Taking off his sunglasses, Troy laid a hand on Hunter’s shoulder, the man’s gaze suddenly warm.
“Hey, man, you okay?”
“Yeah… I just. Sorry.” Hunter plastered a rictus across his face he hoped would pass for a smile. “Ignore me. I’ll be fine.”
“This is okay — all of this. It really is.” Troy’s dark eyes glinted once more. “Trust me. You’re gonna love all this shit.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Hunter muttered under his breath, as Troy slipped his glasses back on, turning back to the waiting women.
“Now, both of you are going to have a long day on Saturday,” Troy said, staring at the proffered asses as he spoke. “So, you’re exempt from the Session tomorrow. The Council seems to want to have relatively unmarked buttocks for any Applicants, misguided though that belief may be.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re getting off easy today though,” Von said, stroking the crop up and down one of Celina’s thighs, leaving goose flesh in its wake. “Celina. Why are you out here, with your cute ass in the breeze?”
“Because… you ordered it, Master.”
“And what else? A special reason, yes?”
Celina sneaked a glance over her shoulder, her face beet red, the fall of her hair partially covering her face. Then her gaze fell upon Hunter.
“To… demonstrate. For him, Master.”
“Who is that?” Von tapped his wife low on the outside of one thigh, and she bit off a startled yelp.
“Hunter… Master.” Celina held Hunter’s eyes for only an instant, then she looked down once more, her head wreathed in her thick, dark locks.
Troy strode up to Lacey, and smacked her right buttock, sending the flesh bounding. “And what about you? Why are you here?”
“So that I’ll know… who I belong to.”
Her bottom wiggled and Troy pinched one of her buttocks between thumb and forefinger, stilling her. “And what else, Lacey girl? You’re not finished.”
There was a long pause, Celina and Von both watching in rapt silence, right along with Hunter.
“Please don’t make me say it,” Lacey whispered against her arm.
“We’re waiting, girl. Out with it.”
Lacey choked down a whimper, then turned her head a little, so that she could be heard. “I… this was… my idea. Master.”
Holy shit.
Troy, still pinching Lacey’s bottom, looked back at him, grinning ear to ear. “It was. She wanted to have you here while I prepped her for this weekend. You’ll see why in a few minutes.”
Lacey made a horrified sound, burying her face in her arms. “But…”
“Speak up, bad girl,” Troy snapped, though the tone of his voice was more fond than angry.
“Not… like this.”
Troy laughed, finally releasing her bottom cheek from his harsh grip, patting it as one would pat the flank of a horse. “She is right about that. Once she had the courage to ask it, I agreed to it — but on two conditions: Celina and Von would join us, and they’d have to do this out here.”
“Why?” Hunter wasn’t even sure why he asked it, perhaps to distract himself from a mind reeling with a thousand other questions. Perhaps to distract him from wanting more than anything to take Troy’s place, to lay his hand once more on the soft perfection of Lacey’s bottom.
“Why?” Troy asked, an eyebrow raising above the lens of his glasses. “Because I can — and because deep down, I know Lacey likes it. She likes being off balance, likes not knowing what I’ll put her through next. Isn’t that right, Lacey girl?”
“Yes, Master,” she said, her voice strained.
It wasn’t until that moment that Hunter had the strength to admit the truth of it though. He’d missed her since that night last winter. He’d missed… Lacey.
As if you have any right to miss her. This is a road you cannot travel, Hunt.
Of course, he knew the truth of that. Maybe it was just this place? The sense of low level lust he’d felt almost continuously since stepping foot here, the vibe of frank, blatant sexuality that he could no longer deny ran strong through this place. Yes, that had be it.
Her idea…
Hunter shook his head. This wasn’t the time to unpack all of the meaning in what he’d just heard. Right now, he needed to just… not think so much.
“When Troy floated the idea, I knew it would be perfect for getting my Celina into the right frame of mind for her Walk,” Von said, tapping the insides of his wife’s thighs, urging them wider. He stepped back, staring at the now wet pussy the widespread thighs blatantly exposed. He looked over at Troy, then at Hunter. “That we get to sort of throw you into the deep end in the process was just a bonus.”
“I’d say you succeeded,” Hunter said, wiping a hand over his mouth, wishing there was a way to hide the blatant bulge his erection was forming in his jeans. Somehow, the fact that both Troy and Von also obviously suffered similar discomfiture didn’t help him feel any better.
“Oh, we’re not done,” Von said. He flipped the crop around, grasping it by the shaft, extending the handle toward Hunter. “Take this.”
“And… do what?”
“I want you to whip Celina’s thighs with it. Not too hard, but enough to get her attention.”
Just go with this, Hunter.
Von’s wife gasped, straightening and turning partially toward her husband, her arm over her breasts, eyes wide, color high in her cheeks. “You said no discipline! For… for Saturday.”
It took a single step for the tall man to reach his wife. Von grasped the arm wrapped around her chest, and yanked it down, her breasts bouncing back into view, those coral nipples of hers achingly tight. They looked inflamed, more swollen than they’d appeared that first night when Hunter had watched Von spank her.
“You know better than to cover up, Celina.” He spun her around so fast she stumbled an instant, then he made her bend over once more, pressing her head down to her folded arms atop the railing. “If you’re smart, you won�
��t move a muscle. If you do that again, you’ll regret it. Now, did I say anything about him whipping your round little ass, no matter how much you deserve it? No. The Council says nothing about the thighs, do they? So you’re getting a little taste of the crop today.” He extended a hand toward Hunter. “Go ahead. A nice firm stroke to start.”
Hunter laid the thin dark crop across the lush thighs, high up at Von’s urging. Celina clenched her thighs as Hunter pulled back, snapping the shaft of the implement against her flesh, a white line springing up on her tanned skin.
“Good one.” Von waved a finger toward his wife. “Again. Harder this time, lower now.”
Hunter pressed the crop to her legs again, just above her knees, warming to the task. The crop struck home against her flesh, and Celina hissed.
“More like that?” Hunter asked. He pointed the implement toward Von, not sure if he really wanted to relinquish it. Two lines, the upper one a darkening red, stretched across Celina’s tender thighs.
Von shook his head. “Ten more. Between those two marks. You do it right, and she’s going to remember you every time she sits down for the next few days.”
You can do this, dude.
Laying down ten strokes of the crop across a woman’s thighs was far easier than it should have been for a man who’d never actually held a crop before in his life. By the last few, Celina cried out, her leg raising up in a reflexive bid to protect her martyred flesh. A rumbled threat of another ten from her hovering husband put an end to that, Hunter grinning despite himself. He envied the dynamic the two had — Von ordered, and Celina obeyed. In all things. Could he have the same someday? Would there be a woman ready to embrace the darkness within him — and a woman ready to let him bring out the darkness in her?
Someday.
Surprised at the reluctance he felt to hand over the crop, he laid the implement in Von’s outstretched palm, the man’s deep blue eyes evaluating, calculating. Then he grinned.
“A natural.”