by Cara Adams
Hidden deep inside, Zoe had half hoped, half not dared to hope that he’d ask her a question just like this. Her mind was made up. “Yes, please.”
Instantly Montague and Diego were there as well, the three men ushering Zoe out of the community room, down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the concrete-walled corridor that led to the dungeon.
Vallen typed a number into the security pad there, and Zoe asked, “How do you know someone else isn’t already in there? Not everyone would be at Maia’s wedding.”
“Actually, almost everyone is at the wedding, but all the public rooms are listed on our pack calendar, and anyone can reserve the room they want. We made sure the dungeon was reserved for us in case you agreed to spend time with us,” Vallen replied.
Uh-huh. In case. Zoe was pretty sure if she’d said no they’d have tried to change her mind. Not that they’d have had to try very hard. She stepped into the room. It felt familiar—right—to be in here with these men.
No matter how many times she told herself she didn’t really know them, and that she wasn’t going to be a lemming, in her heart, Zoe was coming to acknowledge that she did know them from the many hours they’d shared working side by side in the kitchen at the church house. Preparing food, helping people, solving problems, trouble-shooting crises. The three men had been endlessly patient, kind, and helpful, doing whatever chore was asked of them with no complaints. Oh sure, there were moans and groans, but it was always done in a humorous way. She knew she could trust them with her life—and her heart.
Zoe turned and faced Vallen, Monty, and Diego. This was their dungeon. She knew they’d have instructions for her very soon.
“Would you like to play a brief dungeon scene with us?” asked Diego.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Did the books you’ve read tell you about safe words?” asked Monty.
“Yes, indeed. If I use my safe word, everything stops.”
“And what is your safe word?” asked Vallen.
Hmm. That was a problem. She hadn’t thought far enough ahead to choose one. Zoe said the first word that came into her head. “Curtain.”
“Very well. From now on you may only answer a direct question from one of us. You must call us Sir or Master and obey us. If you don’t want to continue, you need to use your safe word. Do you understand?” asked Monty.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Get undressed, sub,” ordered Vallen.
Zoe wondered how far she could push him. She was ready to find out all about punishment. The books she’d read had described spankings as heating the recipient up from the outside to the inside, so orgasms were much more powerful. If she just did everything she was ordered to do, without testing the limits, likely by the end of the brief time they could spend here tonight, she’d be none the wiser about whether or not it was something she’d enjoy. So, therefore, she needed to push a bit, but because she wasn’t sure how much she’d like being punished, she didn’t want to risk being punished too severely. It was like being a virgin all over again. She had to use her knowledge of these three men to figure out exactly when to agree and when to disobey.
She squared her shoulders and looked Vallen in the face, knowing that subs were supposed to lower their eyes. “Are you going to get undressed as well, Sir?”
He frowned at her. “Disobedient subs get spanked.”
Aha. She had him. He was checking to see if she knew what she’d done. “But I didn’t disobey you, Sir. I asked a question.”
“You asked a question after being told you were not permitted to speak except to answer our questions. Get undressed immediately, you disobedient sub,” ordered Monty.
Zoe walked across to a chair in the corner of the dungeon. She hung her tiny purse with its gold chain over the back of the chair, and carefully laid her bridesmaid’s dress over it so it wouldn’t crease. Nothing would speak more loudly of her bad behavior than a crumpled gown. She set her shoes under the chair and removed the pretty lilac bra and panties that matched the dress and then very carefully rolled her stockings up and laid them over the dress. She wasn’t used to wearing stockings. She lived in jeans for much of the year. Even on Sundays she had a tendency to wear her nicest jeans or black dress pants and a shirt unless it was hot, and if it was hot, bare legs with a skirt were fine. But it was lovely to have such luxury for a special occasion.
She turned to face the center of the dungeon. The three men were lined up, looking at her. Vallen was holding a riding crop, Monty had a cane, and Diego held a bright pink paddle with a raised heart on it. It wasn’t difficult to work out what was going to happen next.
It occurred to her that she always knew which of them was which. Although they were identical triplets, she always knew which one was speaking to her or who’d entered the room. She didn’t even need to look at them to check. She recognized the slightly different timbres and tones in their voices and the different phrasing and intonation each one used. They would never be able to play games with her as to which of them was which. She knew. They might all share the same DNA, but their personalities and attitudes were individual and distinct.
“Come,” ordered Diego, pointing to the chains hanging from the ceiling.
Zoe’s belly quivered, and cream filled her pussy. He really shouldn’t use that word. It had other connotations. One of which she hoped would also be happening very soon, but it was one which required some input from the men to bring to fruition.
She padded across the dungeon floor to stand beside the chains. The gray tiles under her feet were cool, or maybe her feet were warm from all the standing and walking she’d been doing.
Vallen and Monty each took one of her wrists and slid them into the handcuffs that were dangling from the chains. Then the chains were raised and tightened until her arms were stretched out fully. Diego kneeled at her feet, manacling her ankles into more handcuffs. These ones were attached to a spreader bar, which forced her legs to remain wide apart and also forced her to lift her heels off the ground if she wanted to release the pressure on her arms.
Well damn. That was a tricky thing to do to her. She could either remain flat on the soles of her feet, with her arms stretched up high and her shoulders extended, or she could stand up on the balls of her feet and ease the pressure off her shoulders. But she couldn’t do both. Hell. That was such a tiny, simple thing, yet Zoe already knew it was going to be crowding other thoughts out of her brain before long as the strain began to make her arms ache.
I’ve learned something about BDSM already. The simplest things can be used to force a sub to make choices. It’s all in the way the Doms set the scene.
She knew what would happen next. The men would make her wait until one—or more—of them began to punish her. The question was, how long would they make her wait? She didn’t think it would be too long. For a start, they didn’t have unlimited time. The wedding party might last an hour, but probably not much longer than that. And they’d have to be showered and dressed and upstairs before her family began looking for her. It was very unlikely that the men would want everyone to guess what they’d been doing, and Zoe sure as hell didn’t need an interrogation upon her return.
So that meant they’d want her to wait long enough to wish the action would begin, but not so long she’d be nervous about running out of time. Five minutes, no more, she guessed.
The problem was she couldn’t concentrate on measuring the passage of the minutes. She was on edge, listening hard for any hint of the men getting undressed or moving closer to her. Any clue of who was standing where or which one would go first. Would they take turns or mix and match their strokes?
The first stroke of the riding crop stung like a bitch and came out of nowhere, adding shock to the pain on her ass. Fucking hell, it hurts! Zoe frantically blinked her eyes, not wanting to cry and damage her makeup. And then she remembered she’d have to shower anyway so was going to have to allow an extra ten minutes to redo her makeup as much as possible. Fortunately, it hadn’
t been done by a professional makeup artist. She and her sisters had done their own, using colors that enhanced their skin tones and blended with their eye color, hair color, and dresses but with each other as well. So the creams and brushes she needed were in her purse for if she’d wanted to touch up her makeup between Maia’s human wedding and the panther one.
Just as well. It’ll take more than a touch up if I start to cry from the pain!
The next few strokes of the riding crop still stung like hell, but she was adjusted to it now, and they didn’t have the intense effect of the first one. And then she sensed movement behind her, but before she could sneak a peek, the paddle landed flat and hard across her ass and then on her right thigh and her left. She took in a deep breath as she let the heat and pain run through her body and realized the men were testing her. The person paddling her was not Diego. Likely when they’d handcuffed her hands and feet, they’d swapped toys. She stopped to think. Who was it? Vallen. That firm stroke gave him away. So if Vallen had the paddle, who’d had the riding crop, Monty or Diego?
It was annoying that she hadn’t thought about it while he was actually whipping her, as it would have been much easier then to get a sense of who was performing the actions. Thinking back, she only had her memories, and she’d been shocked by the very first stroke and not paying complete attention. But she thought maybe it was Monty. So Diego would be next with the cane.
But he wasn’t. It was the riding crop again. Wielded just as firmly as before, but by Diego. He might mimic Monty’s style, but he wasn’t Monty or Vallen. Next Monty paddled her again, and by now her ass was feeling very hot and tender.
But the books she’d read were correct. The heat from her sore ass flooded her body, sending all sorts of erotic thoughts racing through her mind and erotic desires running through her bloodstream. Her pussy was wet with the need to be filled, and that was a new experience for her. She couldn’t ever recall wanting sex so much. Occasionally, when reading a book or thinking about a movie star, she’d wished the hero was there to kiss her and hold her, but she’d never had a reaction like this before. She genuinely wanted them to fuck her. In fact, if they didn’t, she was going to be a very disappointed woman indeed.
Monty ran a gentle hand over the scorching hot skin of her ass. “Are you ready to experience a man in here as well? That virgin ass is just begging to be fucked, isn’t it?”
Zoe gasped. “Yes,” she whispered without stopping to think.
Instantly, he was crouched behind her, filling her butt crack with cool gel and massaging it around the entry to her back door.
Now? He’s going to do it now? There isn’t going to be time. Yet surely the men would be well aware of the time passing. Maybe they had more time left than she thought.
Soon Zoe couldn’t think at all. Her body was automatically pushing back onto Monty’s fingers as they teased their way around her rosette and massaged the muscle ring of the entry. When he pushed a finger inside her ass it was cool and slippery against her hot skin and incredibly arousing. She’d assumed she was already about as aroused as she could be, but her nipples hardened, and more cream dripped from her pussy as Monty rubbed the cool gel into the walls of her dark channel.
And then Vallen was kneeling in front of her.
He held up two bright pink balls connected to a pink cord. “Do you know what these are?”
“Kegel balls.”
“That’s one name for them, yes. Once they’re inside you, it’ll remind you that later tonight we’ll be together again. While you’re walking around and talking to people, your body will be preparing itself for us, for our cocks. But only you and we will know that. No one else. It’ll be our secret. And you won’t be wearing panties, either. That will be another secret only the four of us know.”
“No underwear? But—” Zoe had visions of the wind blowing her dress up and the entire world seeing her hot, red, naked ass, with a bright pink string hanging out her pussy entry. She could feel her entire body turning the color of the Kegel balls.
“No one will ever know, except us. But we will know,” said Vallen, rubbing his hand over her breasts, pinching and stretching her nipples.
Once again Zoe gasped, and more cream dripped from her pussy.
Now Diego was holding up a string of beads. “These are not Kegel balls. What are they, Zoe?”
“Beads.” Hell. The men were searing her mind with images of these toys inside her. Since the balls were going in her pussy, it was evident Monty was going to put the beads in her ass. He’d said he planned to get her ready for his cock. Well, one of their cocks. But to walk around with balls in her cunt and beads in her ass was going to drive her insane with lust.
“How long? How long will I be wearing them for? Because I don’t think it’d be good to have them inside for too long.”
“Oh, it won’t be too long, my precious. It’ll be just long enough to ensure you’re hot and ready for our cocks. An hour or so should do it.”
As Diego was speaking, he handed the beads to Monty, who pushed the first one inside her ass. She gasped and clenched her muscles, but Monty petted and soothed her ass, and she relaxed again as he gradually pushed the string inside her. It felt strange. Weird. And incredibly carnal.
Then Vallen inserted the Kegel balls into her pussy, and Zoe had to grind her teeth together so she didn’t shout out aloud. Carnal didn’t come close to her feelings now. Her body was alight with fiery need to be touched more purposefully by her men. She wanted them, needed them, right now, and it wasn’t going to happen. She had to go back to the party and be polite, when all she’d be able to think about was her first anal sex and, very likely, her second vaginal sex. Since there were three of them, likely both Diego and Vallen would fuck her pussy as well as Monty fucking her ass. Did that mean three orgasms? Hell, I’m ready for that right now.
* * * *
Vallen watched Zoe disappear into the small room reserved for the wedding party. He wondered if she was going to look at her pretty pink ass in the floor-length mirror there. His dick stretched and thickened at the image of her ass. It was rounded and sweet and, right now, was decorated with the raised shapes of hearts from the paddle. He’d really enjoyed marking her ass so the hearts formed a nice overlapping pattern.
The lines from the riding crop formed the grid-work basis on which the hearts were placed. He’d been very tempted to take a picture of it but didn’t want to do that without her consent. Unfortunately, the middle of a BDSM scene was not the time to be breaking the tension to gain consent. But next time he definitely would do that first.
He fingered her panties, tucked deep in the pocket of his suit pants, and thought of the Ben Wa balls in her cunt and the anal beads in her ass. A little later, he and his brothers would teach her how very erotic it could be moving around with the toys inside her. And then they’d fuck her, all three of them together.
But, first, all of them needed to be seen at the party and make it look as though they’d been there all along or, at least, most of the time. Diego had hurried ahead of them, running up the stairs. He’d have been inside the room for a few minutes already. Vallen and Monty walked in, and Vallen immediately scanned the room for Diego. He was standing beside the table piled high with finger food, so Vallen remained near the door and joined in the conversation there while Montague wandered over to the bar and collected a drink.
After about ten minutes, when Vallen was sure Zoe was deep in conversation with a group of women, he gradually circumnavigated the room, still talking to people until he arrived at John-Paul Crawford.
“After the party is finished, I’d like to take Zoe up to the roof and show her the roof garden. My brothers and I will return her home in a little while.” He didn’t want to set a time limit on his visit. He wanted as much time as possible to spend with Zoe.
John-Paul gave him a piercing look. “Our girls have always had to be home by midnight.”
Vallen didn’t flinch outwardly. He was a Dom after all
. But fuck! That was going to mean a lot of rearranging of his plans. “Yes, sir.”
John-Paul smiled, and Vallen had the uneasy feeling that his future father-in-law had read his mind. “However, that didn’t seem to change the result with Maia. Try to remember that tomorrow is a busy day though, please.”
This time Vallen smiled much more easily. “Yes, sir.” They’d give her so many orgasms she’d sleep very soundly indeed.
He made small talk for a few more minutes. The reverend was an extremely intelligent man, and conversation with him was always excellent mental exercise. To Vallen, John-Paul’s only problem was that he trusted everyone, believing them innately good. Vallen’s work for the panther pack had taught him that some people really weren’t nice at all.
“I heard the other day that Lewis Lutterworth is no longer working for the company he was with a little while ago. Back when he decided my schoolboy stamp album was of no interest to his clients. I’m so grateful to Leah and her men for finding someone else to purchase it for me. Have you heard anything about Lewis? It worries me to think his kindness to me might have caused him difficulties with his employer.”
Vallen wanted to tell John-Paul that Lutterworth was a snake who needed to have his head cut off, but, instead, he said, “I could probably find out about him if you like. I could ask some people.”
“Only if that won’t cause the man more grief.”
“I’ll be circumspect.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
Fortunately, before Vallen found himself prevaricating, Naomi Crawford brought some other people up to introduce to John-Paul, and Vallen slipped away into the crowd. This time he made his way across to the food table. He was starting to feel hungry, and he planned on burning off a lot of calories soon. He filled a plate and then walked through the room, talking to people he met, and then returned and filled his plate a second time. Twice he noticed both his brothers were eating, and he hoped Zoe had gotten some food as well. He was always aware of where she was in the room. It was as if a magnet inside him directed him to look her way every few minutes to check that she was all right.