by Trent Evans
“S-so what happens when the… tie goes to the house?” Lacey said, her nipples drawing so tight they ached anew, despite the warmth of the gallery.
Please God, let it happen. Just once, is all I ask.
But Lacey still had no idea what she was really asking for.
Lee, a broad black leather belt dangling from a tanned, veined hand, stood with legs spread behind his bound and presented wife. Her profile was three quarters to the crowd, revealing hanging breasts swinging slowly beneath her, her bun long since drawn apart by Lee’s possessive fingers, the mass of her auburn hair wild upon her back, long locks waving toward the floor boards, highlighting both her beauty and the utter lack of control she had over anything that was about to happen to her in this place.
The first lash fell across Cori’s great white bottom as the crowd audibly sighed. A hand gripped Lacey’s left thigh, the strength of it making her catch her breath, an even stronger grip capturing her right leg, both men staring at her now.
“What does the house say?” Hunter said, his voice now more a vibration than a whisper, the sound alone causing a delicious stirring deep in Lacey’s belly.
Troy’s glittering gaze caught Lacey’s, holding it for a long moment, his jaw clenching. “The house says… it’s way past time to go back home.”
The last thing Lacey saw as the two gruff, extremely aroused men urged her before them up the aisle, was the swing of Lee’s hand, two broad, pink swathes already emblazoned across his wife’s alabaster flesh.
Chapter 10
Hunter trailed behind them as Troy marched Lacey up the front walkway to their door, his hand clamped around her elbow like a child who’d gotten themselves into serious trouble. Her breasts, in the ridiculously thin fabric of the tank top, bounced and wobbled as she tried to keep up with him in her high heels. She didn’t speak a word as Troy dragged her inside, practically frog-marching her to the living room without so much as a sound.
It was just past noon, and Troy peeked through the blinds at the overcast sky outside, lines of gray light falling upon his face, the glittering intensity of his eyes catching and reflecting the illumination. Lacey stood in the middle of the living room, where Troy had left her. She wrung her hands, her long dark hair still up in the clips she’d worn to the Session. Hunter leaned against one arm of the expansive black leather of the sofa, watching them both, still not knowing what to expect. His cock, painfully constricted in his jeans, was practically begging for release.
Staring at the hard points of Lacey’s nipples, perfectly outlined under the white cotton, wasn’t helping that problem any either.
Finally, Troy turned away from the window, circling Lacey like a predator might its helpless victim, deciding how to ultimately dispatch the unfortunate prey.
“Lacey girl, you need to understand one thing,” Troy’s deep voice said, almost a snarl. “You’re mine. Do you understand that?”
She looked upon him, her face suddenly pale, but didn’t say anything.
“Answer me!” He spun on her, standing within inches of her, his lips brushing her temple, rubbing a stray lock of her hair between his fingers, as if to impart his ownership down to the most elemental part of her body.
“Y-Yes, Master. Of course.”
Troy was still for a moment, the air humming with tension, then he turned toward Hunter, fixing him with his hard gaze, all trace of mirth erased from his best friend’s features. But rather than address him, Troy merely stared, and at that moment, Hunter truly questioned just what the fuck he thought he was doing here.
This was never going to work. A door that couldn’t — and shouldn’t — be opened.
Then Troy’s lips curved into a small smile, the meaning there plain, the weight of what Hunter saw in the man’s gaze speaking volumes.
This meant something, something profound, and best friend or not, Hunter got the message as clearly as if his friend had bellowed it at the top of his lungs.
Don’t fuck this up.
Wheeling around on Lacey, Troy’s voice dropped an octave, a rumbling, gravelly tone that had her eyes flying open. Hunter was well aware on an instinctual level what the sound of deep, male voices did to a woman like Lacey.
“You may be mine — forever — but today, and for as long as I decide this works — you’re his too.” Troy stabbed a finger at Hunter. “Do you understand me, bad girl?”
“Yes, Master.” Lacey’s wide-eyed gaze flitted crazily from her husband to Hunter. “What do I—”
Troy’s fingers made quick work of the mass of her hair, the plastic clips clattering to the floor, his fist twisting immediately in the thick black locks. He cranked her head back, the whites of her eyes showing as she tried to obey the painful twist of his grip, her back arched, those mouth-watering breasts thrust into even greater prominence.
Yes.
Instinct taking over, Hunter advanced on them, his higher reasoning shut down, leaving instinct, lust, the male urge to conquer. Now, there was only this. This gorgeous creature, helpless against their lust, her own arousal spiraling higher by the second, the rich scent of her sex detectable even from under her skirt.
A skirt she wouldn’t have on long if Hunter had anything to say about it.
“Get these fucking clothes off, girl.” Troy said, tearing at the front of the tank top, the sound of ripping fabric making Hunter’s cock throb even harder as he reached Lacey’s side. He took both of her arms, wrenching them behind her, making her gasp, and turned her toward her husband, whose fist was still balled in her hair.
“No,” Troy said. “She’s yours. Make her feel it.”
Releasing her hair, he held her by the upper arms as Hunter took hold of the thin tank top and ripped it from her body, the final piece tearing in two, making her generous breasts shudder and bounce upon her chest. Hunter fell upon those heavy globes then as her husband held her fast, growling threats into her ear as Hunter sucked deep upon each nipple in turn, her skin smooth and a little salty, the feel of her flesh upon his tongue as sweet as Hunter had ever experienced in his life. Her soft, vulnerable breasts — they felt right in his hands. She felt right in his hands.
Even if only for this one day.
Troy grabbed her by the hair again, his other hand grasping her firmly by the throat as he spoke in a low rasp against her temple.
“If you don’t have that skirt off in the next five seconds, you’re gonna bend for Hunter’s cane before he fucks that soaking cunt of yours.”
“Yes, Master,” she said, her voice strained, her breasts bobbing in time with her frantic breaths.
Troy let her go then, and she bent low, a big man at her front and back, watching her as she ripped the skirt down, stumbling a moment as she stepped out of it. Troy drew her up by the hair once more, spinning her around until her round buttocks were presented to Hunter.
“Go ahead, give her a few.” Troy nodded toward her. “I’d be dying to by now if I was you.”
Hunter didn’t waste a second, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her against his crotch as he raised his hand, luxuriating in the shudder he felt run through her as he ground the bulge of his painful erection against her hip.
“Master, what about—?”
Troy’s chuckle was pure evil, the twist of his fist in her hair making her yelp. “A few handprints on that big bottom of yours isn’t going to save you from your Walk tomorrow, Lacey girl.”
Hunter brought his hand down on her ass, the sound so loud it surprised him. The palm print shone ivory against her bottom, deepening into pink immediately, a strangled cry from Lacey not stopping him from landing another hard smack to the other cheek, twin palm prints darkening upon her skin like marks of ownership.
Dark, lustful thoughts crowded in as he continued to smack her ass, loving the way her flesh moved and bounced under his hand. He thought she’d look beautiful with true marks of ownership upon her, perhaps initials tattooed on the upper slope of each buttock, like the fantastical, erotic Dubig
eon drawings he remembered looking at as a teenager. His.
Hunter stepped back and Troy spun her around again, his hand grasping one of her buttocks, his thumb rubbing at the color there like an artist might use a finger to smear paint to get the texture just right.
“Give her a few more. I want that ass nice and red.” Troy looked her in the eye, giving her head a little shake to get her attention. “She needs to understand who she belongs to — all of her.”
Lacey closed her eyes, her lips bitten into swollen prominence, her nipples like ripe berries, so tight now.
Troy slapped her breast, sending it swinging, and Lacey yelped, her eyes flying open.
“Answer me, bad girl! Who do you belong to?”
“You, Master… oh, God!”
Tucking her against his hip again, Hunter peppered those gorgeous cheeks with fierce smacks, watching, fascinated as the color of her soft skin deepened still further, the round bottom clenching and shaking as the blows rained down, the sounds of Lacey’s groans only making his aching cock harder.
Then Troy wrenched her back around, his hand at her throat again, holding her fast. He kissed her deeply, his lips and mouth plundering, taking just as much as his words had, swallowing Lacey’s lost moans.
Hunter knew the power of that feeling, of your woman, surrendered to you, in your arms, the lust, possessiveness, and oddly, protectiveness that swelled within a man to hold the one he cherished above all others, the woman who bent her will to his not just out of duty, or ritual — but out of love.
That’s not what’s happening here, Hunter. And you know it.
It would have to suffice, no matter the bitter truth of it.
His hands working furiously at his fly, Troy marched Lacey over to the couch, pushing her over one arm at the end, leaving her sprawling down the length of the cushions, her round bottom thrust high, her head low, the luxurious black locks piled atop her back, a wild spray of them across her pale skin.
“Keep your head down, face forward,” Troy said, pulling out the inflamed length of his cock, the head an angry purple, his fist stroking it as he looked down upon his prostrate wife. “I want that ass up and your back hollowed. Present yourself for your men.”
Men.
Then, surprisingly, Troy stepped aside, still fisting his cock, and waved Hunter over to take his place.
“You’ve waited long enough for this.” Troy smacked her ass, hard, Lacey crying out but not breaking position. “Make it worth the wait. For both of you.”
Every second it took to free his angry, aching cock was like as eternity to him, the sight of the glistening wet slot of her sex laid bare for him, making him actually growl with lust. He needed this woman, the desire to possess her an elemental, instinctive drive, one that couldn’t be reasoned with — or denied any longer.
The head of his cock presented to her soft, swollen labia, she jerked, then pressed her bottom back, her buttocks yawning open still further, inviting, enticing… surrendering.
Taking hold of the curves of her hips he pressed forward, exhaling long and hard as her wet, searing heat surrounded him, as he pushed deep, until the mouth of her womb brushed his cock. She gasped as he took up a strong thrusting, her fluids dripping down his testicles almost immediately. Being inside her was even sweeter than he’d dreamed, even more right than he’d always hoped it would be.
“That’s right, Lacey girl.” Troy knelt down next to the couch, his cock jutting out over Lacey’s face as he turned her to face him, flicking away her hair so she could look at him as he spoke. “Take him deep, let him in, spread wide for Hunter. This is what you were made for, to take your man’s cock, to give him anything, everything he wants.”
“Yes…” she hissed, her bottom lip clenched between white teeth as Hunter began thrusting harder. “So… long. Waited so… long.”
Hunter took her deep, over and over, pressing hard against her, his thighs quivering as he sealed his body to hers on each increasingly harsh stroke. Lacey’s moans muffled then as Troy moved in front of her, sitting on the couch and lifting a leg over her to rest against the seat back, presenting his erection to her mouth. He wrenched her head up by those jet locks, tapping his cock against her swollen red lips, making her take him as deep as she was taking Hunter.
“Good girl,” Troy said as she lapped at him, at her groan of alarm as he pressed into the back of her mouth. Hunter pushed deep again, holding her tight, a groan bubbling from his throat, her sex pulsing and rippling around him.
“Christ, she’s… incredible.” Hunter said, more to himself than anyone else. He alternated caressing and spanking those luscious, soft buttocks as he pounded into her, wanting to make it last forever for her, wanting to wring every last ounce of energy out of her body, challenging her to hold out as long as she could. He wanted to make her succumb to it, to surrender, to give over to the pleasure he felt building deep behind his balls, his vision narrowing to a dark, fevered tunnel as he ground into her still deeper, each merciless lunge drawing cries from both of them, Lacey moaning around the hard length of her husband’s cock.
His climax took him over then, blocking out all else in an explosion of sensation, the only conscious thought blaring over and over in his mind.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Breathing hard, he slipped out of her soaked sex, teasing the swollen labia with the head of his cock until the sensation was too much. His seed dripped from her as he kept her pinned over that arm, gently smacking her bottom, spreading the thick semen over the lips of her pussy until it gleamed bright between her thighs.
Troy growled at her once more, pushing harder and harder, his face reddened, the veins of his forearms popping as he held her hair fast in his clenched fist.
“Swallow… every… fucking… drop,” he ground out, throwing his head back, the tendons at the base of his throat standing out as he let out a long, soulful groan, his hips jerking once, twice, three times against Lacey’s face. Her hands grabbed at Troy’s thighs, though Hunter wasn’t sure whether it was to push him away or draw him still deeper.
Finally, spent, Troy sagged down, hugging his body over her, his gravelly murmurs only barely audible. Hunter stroked a hand up and down the trough of Lacey’s back, her sweat wet against his palm, the heat of her punished buttocks almost scalding against his hips. He pressed a soft kiss to her flank, stroking her with his hands as if to calm her, when in fact it was to commit every second of this moment to memory, the feel of her skin against his something he knew would haunt him forever, no matter what happened after today.
There would be another time to lament the ephemeral nature of all of this, of realizing, if only for a moment, a man’s dream.
Troy gathered Lacey into his arms then, speaking into her ear as he nuzzled the crazed halo of her dark hair. Hunter still touched her, as though letting go of her, even in that smallest of ways meant the dream would end, that reality, and the truth of what this meant — or couldn’t mean — crashed in once more.
“This is only the beginning, Lacey girl,” Troy finally said, looking over at Hunter through the veil of her hair. “You have a long day ahead of you.”
He stood then, bringing her to her feet, holding her back against his chest, catching her breasts in his hands, giving them a hard, proprietary squeeze that made her groan once more.
Troy came around in front of her then, folding his arms over his chest, his gaze darkening. “You’ll stand there for us, while I decide what to do with you. Put your hands behind your back.”
Her nostrils flared as she looked up at him, flicking a glance at Hunter as she obeyed, clasping her hands tightly at the small of her back, her blush blooming anew at the way it made her large breasts even more prominent, so vulnerable in the face of these two men seemingly overcome by their baser, animalistic desires.
She was right to feel vulnerable, for Hunter wanted nothing more than to plunder that vulnerability. Right or wrong, her surrender, her shame, it only heightened his desire for
her, his desire to make her his in every way.
Hunter zipped his jeans up despite the fact gazing at her sweet breasts already had his cock beginning to swell all over again.
“See the way the come drips down her thighs?” Troy eased a finger through the viscous fluid, and Lacey dropped her head, the shame seemingly too much to bear. “You’d better get used to this girl, with two of us to satisfy now. I don’t think you’ll go a single hour each day without our seed inside you, or marking your skin. I like you this way, your face blushing, shamed, enduring all we do to you — because it’s your duty to bear it, no matter how hard it may be.” He lifted her chin on his hand, his jaw tightening. “And make no mistake, I’ll enjoy making you bear all of it. Both of us will.”
Lacey looked to Hunter then, though he wasn’t sure what he saw in the liquid, fathomless eyes. Perhaps it was hope, perhaps it was anticipation — but it didn’t matter. What Troy spoke was the truth.
She would bend for them both, and she would do whatever she was told, no matter what. They’d both make sure of it. And despite how much she might resist, how much she might protest, inside, he knew what she really felt. It was only a matter of time before they’d make her admit all of it, every last embarrassing need and desire.
To them both.
Troy, his still semi-erect cock hanging from his open fly, sat down on the couch then, extending an arm along the top of the seat back, the ease of his position at odds with the fiery intensity of his gaze as he looked upon his humbly presented wife, his eyes raking up and down her naked body.