Punished

by Punished(lit)

  When we'd helped him to sit on the edge of the bed, he fell backward and lay unmoving. I stared down at him in consternation.

  "You sure you're up to this?" Billy asked quietly, having moved to stand directly beside me.

  I nodded. "What's wrong with him?" I whispered. I'd never seen him like this, or even sporting the aftereffects of a drinking binge.

  "His girlfriend dumped him. I tried to talk him out of this, but nothing would do him but to come."

  "Poor baby," I murmured sympathetically. "I'm not sure there's anything to handle. He looks all done in."

  "Not," Colin objected, coming around and struggling upright. He fought with his shirt for several moments and finally found the opening. Ripping off half the buttons, he dragged the shirt off over his head. He landed on his face on the floor when he bent over to take his shoes off. Biting my lip to keep from snickering, I surged forward to help him. Between the two of us, Billy and I managed to get him undressed and into the bed.

  This time when he flopped backwards, he took me with him, grunting as I landed on top of him. "Wha' happened to my face," he muttered against my breasts. "Hurts like hell. 'jou hit me, Billy?"

  I tried to roll off of him, but his grip was surprising.

  "You fell on your face, Col," Billy said irritably.

  "Oh."

  "You want me to get something for it?" I volunteered.

  "A little pussy wouldn't hurt."

  "I doubt that would help the swelling," Billy said dryly from somewhere in the region of the foot of the bed. "It'd help this swelling," Colin insisted, grabbing my hand and placing it over his cock, which was indeed swollen and evidently ready for action. "We gonna do the sandwich, or what?"

  I glanced at Billy questioningly as he settled on the edge of the bed. "Sure, Col," he said soothingly. "Why don't you turn around so we can all fit on the bed?" I heard his shoes drop to the floor and then the rustle of cloth and realized that he was undressing.

  Colin pulled away from me slightly and looked around in confusion. "I thought I was on the bed."

  "Sideways."

  "Oh."

  Releasing me, he sat up again. Peeling my nightgown off, I tossed it aside and moved to the center of the bed. Billy, I realized when he slid up behind me, was bare chested and barefoot but still wearing his trousers. I glanced back at him questioningly as Colin finally managed to get himself oriented on the bed and began to grope my breasts.

  Billy leaned toward me--to whisper something to me, I thought. Instead, he merely covered my ear with his mouth. The heat and moisture of his mouth sent a rush of delight through me, lifting the fine hairs all along that side of my body and making my nipples tighten almost painfully. His hand skated down my back and cupped my buttock, massaging it briefly before he slipped his fingers along my cleft and began to stroke me.

  Despite the awkwardness of Colin's drunken caresses, my body quickened. I wasn't certain if it was Billy's doing, or both of them, but it didn't matter. When Colin lifted my thigh and began a brief search for the right hole, I was already wet and ready.

  It was a good thing for me, because Colin was no lightweight and the struggle that ensued as he wedged the head of his cock into my vagina at last and fought his way past my resisting muscles might have been uncomfortable otherwise. As it was, his awkward gait was more of a tease than anything else.

  Feeling strangely motherly, I caressed him anyway, trying to move with him until he found the rhythm he needed to find completion and suppressed the disappointment I felt when he at last uttered a deep groan and spilled his seed. He fell asleep almost before his body had stopped convulsing, snoring loudly.

  Billy sat up. Leaning down, he kissed me on one shoulder. He seemed to debate with himself for a moment and finally got up, collecting his shirt and shoes. He hesitated again as he reached the side of the bed. "Good night," he said finally and departed.

  I stared at the door after he'd gone, feeling strangely warmed by his silent vigil and at the same time abandoned, but it occurred to me after a little while that he'd only come to make certain I would be ok.

  Rolling onto my side, I propped my head in my hand and studied Colin for some time. I knew he was nearly thirty, but he looked so young sleeping, hardly more than a baby. It was sweet and sad at the same time that he'd felt the need for comfort after his breakup. I seriously doubted his ex would appreciate me consoling me, but that wasn't my problem. Leaning down, I brushed at the dark hair that had fallen across his forehead, kissed him lightly and snuggled down next to him.

  He was still sleeping like the dead when I got up the following morning and went in to take a shower. He wasn't snoring when I came out, but then he'd rolled onto his belly. I debated briefly on what to wear--the office attire? Or another nightgown? There weren't any other choices since I'd been denied my own wardrobe. Deciding on comfort, I slipped a nightgown on and went downstairs to make coffee.

  By the time I'd finished drinking my coffee and come fully awake, I'd realized the house was just too quiet. Colin had overindulged the night before, but neither Michael nor Billy had and I was curious that neither of them had risen yet.

  Shrugging it off, I dug out the book I'd been reading and settled down to entertain myself. I heard the shower going upstairs sometime later and Colin emerged shortly after the sound of water stopped.

  Reaching the great room, he trudged to the couch and sprawled out beside me. I set my book aside, tucking it beneath the cushion. "Would you like breakfast?"

  A look of revulsion crossed his features. "I don't think so. I feel like shit!"

  "Headache?"

  "I guess you could call it that," he groaned, dropping his head back on the couch and closing his eyes.

  "I'll get you something for that," I volunteered, getting to my feet.

  "You don't have to do that," he said halfheartedly.

  I smiled at him. "I know, but I will."

  When he'd downed the painkiller and chased it with a glass of water, I offered to massage his head. He lay back with his head in my lap and I rubbed until my fingers were aching. Just when I thought I was going to have to beg off, he began to snore. Chuckling, I dug my book out and started to read again. I discovered pretty quickly that I couldn't get my mind on my book, though, the way he was sawing logs. Suppressing the urge to giggle, I urged him to turn over, stroking his temple until he drifted off again.

  He was cute, I reflected, staring down at him, not quite as attractive, to me at least, as his older brother, but cute in a whole different way. There was a hint of the exotic to his features. His hair, like his brother's, was the next thing to coal black, and board straight. There was probably an American Indian somewhere in the wood pile--which wasn't terribly unusual in the deep south. Apparently there'd been a lot of randy settlers when the area was founded--and slow running natives, either that or a handful had been very, very busy, because a lot of people claimed at least a drop or two of native blood.

  A lock of his hair had fallen across his brow. I brushed it back only to watch it fall again. Idly, I began to play with it. His hair was surprisingly silky and pleasant to the touch. If he hadn't been half dead, poor baby, from expressing his grief over his break up the night before, I seriously doubted if he would've allowed me to play with it.

  I'd just gotten 'in' to my play when the sensation washed over me that I was being watched. I jumped guiltily when I looked up and discovered that Lyle was standing near the kitchen door, watching me, his expression unreadable.

  Either he'd come in the back way, or he'd come in the night before after I'd gone to bed. I hadn't heard him come in and I couldn't believe I'd been so deeply engrossed that I wouldn't have noticed if he'd come in the front door. I found it rather unnerving that I hadn't noticed anyway.

  Without a word, he sauntered across the great room toward me. Whatever he might have said, I was never to know. Before he'd reached the couch, Billy and Michael crashed through the front door as if they'd been pitched in, dishev
eled and reeking of fish.

  That explained why the house had been so quiet.

  Their 'triumphant fisherman returns'grins fell when they spied Lyle.

  The noise they made roused Colin and he sat up abruptly, looking around the room in confusion. "Wha' the hell? You here, Lyle?"

  Lyle's brows rose. "It is my house."

  Colin frowned. "I didn't mean it like that. Didn't know you'd planned to come down this weekend--I don't think. Did I?"

  "I didn't think I needed to mention it," Lyle said dryly.

  Billy and Michael departed for the kitchen to clean their 'kill'. I could hear the scrape of drawers being jerked out and the clatter of kitchen utensils. Colin abruptly collapsed on the couch once more and glanced at me. "My head feels better."

  I managed a smile that was only slightly forced. "Good. I guess I'll go see if Billy and Michael need help," I added, deciding Lyle must want to talk to Colin.

  Lyle eyed me with disfavor when I got up. "Still wearing your nightgown?"

  I blushed with a combination of irritation and discomfort. "You said 'be ready to entertain'. Besides, it's more comfortable than the bustier and skirts."

  My embarrassment waned and my indignation swelled as I stalked from the room. The resentment lasted through the first fish I butchered. I had blood, guts and fish scales all over me by the time Billy removed the meat cleaver from my hand.

  His eyes were gleaming with a mixture of wry amusement and sympathy when I glanced up at him. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

  "Ugh! What a mess!" I was in favor of taking a bath immediately, but there seemed little point in it until the kitchen had been cleaned. The three of us made short work of it, however, and headed upstairs. I ignored the Justice brothers as we trudged through the great room and up the stairs.

  Chapter Seven

  I'd already reached for the door knob to my room when Billy slipped an arm around my waist. "I'll wash your back," he murmured huskily.

  "Mind if I join you two?"

  Billy looked at Michael frowningly and finally shrugged and glanced at me.

  "Are we going to make a sandwich?" I asked, intrigued.

  Billy chuckled. "I'm not sure it's something to be tried in a shower."

  Michael gave me a heated look. "We can warm up in the shower, though."

  "Why don't you just join us in her room in … say fifteen?"

  Shrugging, looking vaguely miffed, Michael left for his own room.

  Billy, I discovered with little surprise, was not only very good at scrubbing backs, but fronts, too. Anticipation filled me as we explored one another with soapy hands. I was as aroused by the feel of his slick, wet skin beneath my palms, and the tensile strength of his hard muscles as I was by the feel of his large hands on my body. We tumbled into the bed still damp from the shower, both of us still reeking of the scent of roses.

  I don't know if I actually sensed a subtle change between us, or if the intimacy of bathing each other led me to an erroneous assumption, or if I was merely so hot my brain had ceased to function even at half capacity, but I was far more than a plaything, or even a willing participant. Instead of merely allowing him to do as he wished as I had done from the beginning, I caressed him as I would have a chosen lover, with affection as well as desire.

  Clad in nothing but a towel, Michael entered the room. Through desirous eyes, I watched him as he stroked himself until his cock was standing at attention. As he moved to the bed, Billy rolled, pulling me on top of him.

  I wasn't certain how this was supposed to work, but I knew both of them would have to enter me to make a sandwich and I was both nervous and excited by the prospect, never having done anything like it before. At Billy's urging, I aligned his cock with my body and impaled myself slowly on his rigid flesh until I felt my nether lips grinding against his pubic bone.

  Michael moved up behind me, positioning himself and pushing me down until I was lying almost flat on top of Billy. I felt the coldness of a lubricated condom as he traced the cleft of my ass with the head of his cock and then pressure as he nudged it into my rectum. Concentrating on relaxing the muscles, I panted as he slowly worked his way inside me, hoping that I would be one of the lucky women who had a g-spot inside me.

  As he sank fully inside me, I discovered very quickly that I did. Currents of pleasure replaced the momentary discomfort. Excitement welled inside me to feel two hard cocks embedded deeply within my body and my body clenched in response. Both men groaned in ecstasy.

  Michael began to move first, setting the rhythm. I shifted to more comfortably accept them both and began to move in concert with him, countering each thrust. My excitement grew by leaps and bounds. For perhaps the first time in my life, I found myself trying to stave off my climax to prolong the exquisite sensations building inside me. Within moments I was hovering at the edge, however, fighting the urge to yield. I sensed the same battle in both Michael and Billy.

  Abruptly, Michael stopped, gasped hoarsely several times and then began to move faster, to thrust harder as he lost control and his cock began to convulse and spill his seed. His surrender pushed me over the edge. Culmination hit me hard, dragging sharp cries from me. Billy grasped my hips, pounding into me quickly as Michael began to jerk and thrust wildly in the final throes of his passion. With a growl of triumphant, he, too, began to come, grinding deeply.

  Weak and breathless in the aftermath, we collapsed in a heap. With an effort, Michael gathered himself and pulled away, discarding his condom and sprawling weakly beside us. I was too spent even to move, melting over Billy like hot wax.

  He didn't seem to mind. Instead, he stroked my back soothingly until I drifted away on a haze of repletion.

  I was alone when I awoke late in the afternoon. Stretching, I rolled out of the bed and went to take a shower. The smell of frying fish led me downstairs as soon as I'd dried and dressed. I discovered the whole gang--with the exception of Lyle--in the kitchen, cooking and sampling as they went. The kitchen looked like a disaster area. I suspected clean up was going to be my job, but then they'd caught, cleaned, and cooked the meal. Accepting the inevitability of it, I assured myself it was only fair.

  I wondered if Lyle just hadn't joined the cooking crew or if he'd gone back to town. When we settled in the dining room to eat, I discovered he had indeed left and felt a faint uneasiness drift through me, though I wasn't certain why I felt uneasy beyond the fact that he'd appeared unannounced, looked disapproving and left again.

  Maybe I'd been right to begin with though? Maybe he'd only come to speak with his brother for some reason and, having concluded his business, left again because he'd intended to all along?

  Billy and Colin cleared out early the following afternoon. Michael, was supposed to spend the night with me. Instead, he dragged me upstairs as soon as Billy and Colin had disappeared down the drive and fucked me upside and sideways until we were both exhausted. Toward dusk, he remembered some papers he needed for the office the following morning and decamped.

  I watched his taillights disappear down the drive with a sense of relief. We'd partied late the evening before, and I was looking forward to quietly collapsing for the rest of the evening and night.

  When he'd gone, I wandered to the calendar in the kitchen and crossed out the weekend, then flipped back through the pages. I was a little surprised to discover that I'd passed the halfway point in serving my time a week earlier. It didn't seem possible, and I wasn't certain how I felt about it except that I wasn't by any means jubilant.

  That might have been because I was still in limbo as to whether or not time served and good behavior was going to get me off, but I knew that wasn't entirely the reason. I was going to miss my harem when I didn't have it anymore, I realized with surprise. I'd been too scared at first to really give my position any thought. In the beginning, I'd been both excited and penitent, mostly just doing what I had to without allowing myself to think beyond what was expected of me.

  I discovered with s
ome dismay, however, that it wasn't just the excitement I was going to miss when it was over. I'd developed an affection for them--a good deal of affection for several of them.

  What was going to happen when they were done with me? Would I still have a job? Would they still want me? At all? Ever? Or would I be dismissed and never get to see, or be with, any of them anymore?

  The thoughts disturbed me. It was a real challenge keeping up with the sexual appetites of six men, but how was I going to deal with one after having had six very attractive, very attentive men?

  And how could I deal with the possibility of none?

  The idea depressed me so much I found myself almost hoping they weren't going to be satisfied with me serving only a six month sentence and I began to wonder if there was any way I could prolong things short of claiming guilt which wasn't actually mine.

  That, I wasn't willing to do, mostly, I realized because of the affection I'd developed for them. I didn't want them to go on believing that I'd betrayed them.

  Chapter Eight

  Lyle was not in the office when I arrived at my scheduled time Monday morning which was so unusual it thoroughly unnerved me, particularly when I reached the front desk and discovered he'd left me a note to call and reschedule his appointments for Wednesday. On a personal level, he certainly wasn't in the habit of confiding in me, but I had been put in charge of handling appointments and fielding calls and I was generally kept informed about their movements for that reason alone.

  Paranoia crept in as the day wore on and he didn't show or even call in to check his messages.

  I did my best to dismiss my misgivings but I wasn't entirely successful and when I arrived at the cabin that evening and saw Lyle's car in the drive I was far more unnerved than excited.

  As hard as I tried to convince myself that I wasn't in any trouble, I knew the moment I saw him that I was. The problem was I couldn't figure out what it might be and it worried me more that I couldn't instead of reassuring me and easing my tension as I suppose it should have. Laying a guilt trip on me was a breeze, though. All anyone had to do was look at me the least bit accusingly and I was immediately certain I must have done something.