by Tawny Taylor
How embarrassing, being caught staring at another woman’s privates.
The woman gave her a gentle smile.
The other woman’s Masters indicated their approval, without touching. And then they helped the woman to her feet, positioned her standing, spread eagle, and facing the wall, in front of the wooden structure and fastened her wrists and ankles into cuffs.
From a bag they had sitting beside a wooden bench, they pulled out two whips with long, single leather thongs.
They wouldn’t…
One of them raised his arm and then brought it down sharply, and the thong sailed into the air, snapping.
They were!
The woman flinched but didn’t cry out, and within an instant, an angry red stripe appeared on her upper back.
Cheryl’s stomach lurched up into her throat. She could almost feel the bite of the whip on her own back. Her muscles tightened into painful knots and she sucked in a desperate breath and held it when the other man raised his arm.
Not again, please.
His arm dropped, the whip sailed into the air and snapped against the woman’s round buttock.
A sob tore from Cheryl’s throat but she swallowed it down, afraid that someone would tie her up and whip her like that if she dared make a sound.
She had never seen anything like this, so dark and shocking and terrifying. She had no idea what to think. The men struck that poor woman several more times and each time, Cheryl flinched. She couldn’t watch anymore. Could not stand to see another human being treated this way. It wasn’t right. What had this woman done to deserve to be whipped like a slave?
Finally, the men stopped and Cheryl was so relieved she almost cried. She watched them help the woman down, watched them cradle her close, stroke her all over, wipe away the tears glistening on her cheeks, spiking her eyelashes.
Once again the woman knelt in front of Cheryl, so close Cheryl could see her pulse pounding in her neck, literally count her heart rate. The woman’s soft brown eyes were dilated until the pupils almost completely swallowed the brown. And her face was flushed a pretty pink. Her full lips were parted just slightly and curled up at the corners in a Mona Lisa smile, the kind that spoke of secret pleasures.
Could it be that woman truly enjoyed being whipped? She knew there were people who enjoyed pain, who got some kind of rush from it, but she’d never met one, never watched one.
The woman’s Masters then surrounded her. One stood in front of her, literally inches from Cheryl, the other behind the woman, and now pretty much out of Cheryl’s line of sight. From her vantage, she got a nice view of a perfect male ass, smooth skinned and muscular.
“We have given you your pleasure, bride, so we now expect you to serve us,” the man directly in front of Cheryl said. He thrust his hips forward then back, again and again, and Cheryl guessed he was fucking the girl’s mouth.
Heat thrummed between Cheryl’s legs as she watched. This was better than any porn movie. Live action. And these guys were a thousand times better looking than any porn star.
She could literally reach out and touch the man, if she’d had the guts. Which she didn’t.
She could also smell the sweet scent of his skin. Hear the sexy slurping sounds of oral sex as he drove into the woman’s mouth.
One of Cheryl’s Masters squatted behind her, pressing his body against hers. His thick bulge, hidden behind his leather pants, branded the skin of her buttocks. A hand skimmed over her skin, around her side, up over her breast.
The guy in front of her stopped moving, stepped to the side, and then Cheryl was watching the woman be forced onto all fours and fucked from behind by her second Master. The woman’s pleasure was plain on her face, and Cheryl licked her lips when the hands traveling over her own body found one of her breasts and pinched a nipple.
A bolt of pleasure-pain raced through Cheryl’s body.
A second hand slid down her back, over her buttocks and between her legs and then she was sharing a strange and shocking bond with the other woman. Together they were riding swelling waves of pleasure as their Masters stroked them intimately.
Normally, Cheryl would close her eyes during sex, or even when she masturbated. She would imagine a sexy scene in her head and stroke her pussy, maybe fuck herself with her fingers.
But not now. There was no need to imagine anything. This was the sexiest, naughtiest, craziest scene she had ever experienced. It beat even her darkest fantasies. A twelve on a sexy scale of one-to-ten.
“Just you wait,” Maksim whispered in her ear. “Things are about to get even hotter.”
A powerful orgasm blazed through Cheryl’s body, and she threw her head back, her sigh blending perfectly with the other woman’s as she too found her release.
Get even hotter? That was like Hades hot. What could these two men do to her that would be better than that?
Chapter 6
Maksim would never admit this to anyone, especially the man beside him, but he was terrified.
He could only believe that the emotions churning inside him were the effects of Cheryl’s pheromones. Because otherwise, he had no explanation. He didn’t fall in love. He couldn’t fall in love. He’d never wanted to fall in love. Love made a man vulnerable and that was one thing Maksim never wanted to be again.
But damn it, how could he control the feelings swelling inside of him? For both Cheryl and Cy? Somehow, he had to get a handle on things. Before it was too late and he was too far gone, unable to tear himself away from them without ripping his heart to shreds in the process.
No one had ever warned him that the claiming would be anything but physical. But it seemed it would be much, much more than that. If he were given the choice, he would stay as he was, refuse to take the claiming, and protect himself. But that would cost them all a dear price, especially their new bride. He couldn’t live with that.
There had to be another way.
He looked down at his little bride, a spitfire of a woman who was the direct antithesis of what a Twelfth Knight’s bride should be. She’d come to them headstrong and determined, challenging their position as her Masters. But how quickly she seemed to be changing, accepting her new role. And as he watched her discover the submissive inside of herself, his heart swelled.
There had to be another way to avoid falling any more in love with her, one that wouldn’t force his feisty little bride to pay the ultimate price.
* * *
Cheryl finally found the strength to blink open her eyes. Oh. My. God. That had been the most intense orgasm of her life. She’d literally felt it from the soles of her feet to the top of her scalp, and every inch in between. Her body was still tingly all over, twitchy.
She’d just come in front of three strangers!
What were these guys turning her into? A nympho? An exhibitionist? A submissive? Maybe all three.
Impossible!
“This way,” Cy said, helping her to her feet. Her legs felt as solid as molten cheese. She gratefully accepted his proffered arm for support as he led her across the room to that bench thing against the wall.
She was beginning to really like that bench.
Cy strapped her in.
Despite the fact that her head was swimming, she couldn’t help noticing that Maksim seemed to be a little distracted, or distant. Something was bothering him, but she sensed this wasn’t the time to ask him about it. She hoped she’d have a chance, later.
There were so many things she didn’t understand about this situation, and even though this part was thrilling, in a dark and semi-uncomfortable way, what she ached for was a little quiet time to just talk. Tell them about her feelings. About her fears.
She felt like she was losing a part of herself, somehow, that the Cheryl she’d been all her life was slowly fading away. She’d spent a lifetime with that Cheryl. How could she learn to live with this new one? This… stranger?
It was the sight of two men kissing in front of her that dragged Cheryl out of her head and back i
nto the now, the bondage room. The two men who had been fucking the girl with the beautiful, sparkling brown eyes were now standing in front of Cheryl, wrapped in an intimate embrace.
Strong hands ran over arms and shoulders bulging with muscles, as tongues stabbed in and out of semi-open mouths. Meanwhile, Cheryl’s two guys stood on either side of her, very still, but clearly sporting hard-ons beneath their snug black leather pants. The bulges were a telltale sign.
The room filled with the sexy sound of kissing, lips smacking, soft male sighs of pleasure. The whisper of skin brushing against skin.
Yep, Cy’d been right. Things were getting a whole lot hotter. In a hurry. Especially between Cheryl’s legs.
Her inner muscles clenched around pulsing emptiness, and her heart sped up, her heartbeat a swift and steady thumping in her chest. Her breathing revved up too, going from slow and deep to little shallow gasps.
Who ever would have guessed watching two nude men kiss and fondle each other would be so unbelievably sexy? Mind-blowing.
The two guys wrapped their fists around each other’s cocks and Cheryl just about started hyperventilating. It was a really good thing she was sitting down. Because otherwise, she was pretty sure she’d be on the floor, unconscious.
They were giving each other’s thick, long cocks slow caresses. And the ruddy tips were glistening with precome. Their heavy testicles, shaved hairless, were high, snugged tight against the base of their large cocks. And for a moment, Cheryl couldn’t help musing about the fact that the men she’d seen naked so far were hung like horses. Huge. She wondered if all men in this strange and fascinating world were like that or if she’d just been lucky.
“They have already taken the claiming,” Cy explained. “The Twelfth Knights are mostly bisexual, a good thing since female lovers are not largely available to most of us. But even if we weren’t, the claiming makes us desire both our bound mates sexually. This is normal. Expected. And does not reflect on their desire for their bride.”
In other words, he was trying to tell her that sooner or later, she’d watch Cy and Maksim kiss each other like this, touch each other intimately. Fuck each other in the ass.
A shudder of dark desire quaked through her body.
Maksim went to the armoire, which she decided to call the Little Closet of Delights, and sifted through its contents, returning with a basket of goodies which he placed on one side of the bench she was strapped to.
“Don’t take your eyes away from them.” Cy motioned to the two men in front of her.
She nodded, although she couldn’t help sneaking a quick peek when Maksim dropped to his knees before her parted legs, between her body and the two guys kissing.
He parted her labia and dragged his tongue down her slit, from her clit to her vagina, and a rush of wet heat pulsed through her body.
She was going to come again. Very soon.
There was a touch at her vagina, a moist finger pressed, and she opened up, taking it inside. More heat. More pulsing, throbbing need.
The guys in front of her were repositioning themselves. One lowered to all fours and the other knelt behind him, prodding his ass with his cock. It glided in with ease then back out, and Cheryl watched, fascinated, transfixed, totally unable and unwilling to tear her gaze away.
The guy being fucked had his lips parted. His dark eyes were hooded with desire. And the guy behind him had so much tension in his face, neck, and shoulders Cheryl swore something was going to snap.
She felt like all that tension was seeping into her body somehow, winding around her limbs and curling in her stomach.
Maksim’s tongue danced over her clit, the soft friction a perfect complement to the erotic sight before her and the wonderful fullness in her pussy. He withdrew his finger, only to replace it with a huge dildo.
The man fucked the other guy harder, his thrusts faster, less fluid and more forceful. The one getting fucked moaned, the sound of his voice a low undercurrent to the sharp slap-slap of skin striking skin and soft sounds of Maksim’s intimate kisses to her pussy.
The air was spiced with the scents of sex. Cheryl dragged in a huge gulp then another as her body was propelled toward a second orgasm.
Oh God. Could a girl die from an orgasm? Totally melt? Heart stop? If so, it just might happen to her. Right now.
She watched the other woman, the bride, slide under the man on all fours and take the man’s erect cock in her hand. On her back beneath him, she craned her neck to take him in her mouth. Her lush lips circled his thickness, her throat visibly working as she took him deeper.
Another hard thrust from the dildo in Cheryl’s pussy, and she was done. Over the crest she went again, another orgasm sending throbbing heat through her entire body. This time, she cried out from the pleasure. She simply couldn’t swallow the sounds. Two male voices joined hers, and the room was full of their voices, a chorus of sexual fulfillment. Release. Gratitude.
When she blinked open her eyes, the two men and woman were gone, and only Cy and Maksim remained in the dungeon with her. They were both flushed, their faces, necks and chests bright red. Their jaws were tight.
They looked like they were in agony.
“Can’t you take your release?” she asked them. Here they’d given her not one but two orgasms and they had yet to come once. It was so one-sided she actually felt guilty.
“No. Not yet.” Maks gently extracted the toy from her pussy.
“That seems so unfair.” She swiped at a droplet of sweat trickling down the side of her face when Cy unshackled her right hand. “You can’t even touch yourselves?”
“We could masturbate. We could do more than that too.” Standing so close, Cheryl could just about lick him, Cy unfastened her other wrist. “But I think it would make things ten times worse. It’s up to each of us. But I’ve been told fucking each other will only make us want to complete the claiming that much more. And we’re not ready yet. You’re not ready. Emotionally or physically. But we can’t wait too long. It’s dangerous.”
She didn’t understand the whole process of this claiming thing, but she could appreciate the fact that her guys were putting themselves through pure torture for her sake. No man had ever done such a thing before, and she realized, painfully, that those men had likely not loved her as much as she believed at the time.
“Come.” Cy helped her to her feet and her guys led her back to her room. There was a tray on the bed, with a full plate of food, a glass of something dark red, maybe wine.
Her stomach rumbled noisily as she sat and took a look at the spread. She hadn’t realized how starving she’d been, but the smell wafting from below sent saliva flooding her mouth.
She glanced up, finding both men standing with arms crossed over their chests, still sporting huge bulges between their legs. Eyes glittering with a very different kind of hunger.
“Will you stay with me a while?” she asked.
“We will.” Cy sat on the foot of the bed. Maks stretched his enormous frame in a sturdy chair next to the window. The soft light did amazing things to his dark features, making him look even yummier than normal. Again, he seemed so distant, disconnected, unlike Cy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked Maks, capturing his gaze with hers when he glanced at her. “You say so little to me. You’re always physically distant. You seem to be holding back.”
Maksim looked like he wanted to turn around and run from the room.
Chapter 7
It must have taken Maks several minutes to come up with his answer. And it was a lame one. “It’s just the way I am, I guess.”
Cheryl ate roasted meat and veggies and thought about his response. Sure, some guys were quieter than others, so that was logical. Although she still sensed he was struggling with something. Maybe he didn’t know how to talk about things. Heck, she wasn’t the best at talking about stuff that bothered her either.
Like that time when her best friend… what was her name? Her mind reached for a certain memory but it seeme
d to fade away.
Oh God. Why couldn’t she remember?
“What’s wrong?” Cy seemed to key into her confusion right away.
“I feel weird. I seem to be forgetting stuff, things I never would have forgotten before. Is there something wrong with me? I-it’s scaring me.”
“No. There’s nothing wrong. I promise.” He smoothed a hand down her arm, a reassuring caress. His eyes were warm and comforting too, until he glanced over his shoulder at Maks. Something flared in them for just the briefest moment and then he looked at her again and they were back to being calming and gentle.
“My best friend’s name. I’ve forgotten it,” she said, her worry mounting.
“You’ll remember later,” Maks promised. “You know how it is. Something silly slips your mind and then it bugs you for hours, until you stop thinking about it. But then, when you’re in the shower or something, it comes back to you.”
“Yeah, but I’ve never forgotten my best friend’s name.” She lifted a hand to her head. The beginning of a really wicked migraine was gathering behind her forehead, like storm clouds. And she was feeling achy all over, like she was coming down with the flu. “I’m not feeling so good, either.”
The two guys exchanged dark glances and then Cy motioned to the bed. “You need to rest.”
She wasn’t really in the condition to argue with him, but she didn’t want the guys to leave again. She hadn’t realized how much she hated being alone before. No doubt because she’d always kept herself so busy. “I’ll lie down, but please don’t leave yet. Stay with me for a while. I want to talk.”