by K D Grace
She could feel the Boss’s gaze on her as Tino shifted between her legs so that the thrust of his penis stroked her deeper, and so that the hand still under her buttocks could press and wriggle at her bumhole. She quivered and nearly bounced off the stool as he slid his finger past the tight protective sphincter. The upward press of her body against his raked her already raw clit even harder against his pubic bone, and she gasped and dug her knuckles into his shoulders.
The Boss offered a throaty laugh. ‘The problem with good sex is that someone’s view is always obstructed. I’d love to see what Tino’s doing to your tight little bottom, Stella, but at least I can see the results in that blissed-out look on your face, so that’ll have to do, won’t it? And now, I’m going to fuck your arse, Tino, just like I let you fuck mine last night.’
Suddenly Stella could barely breathe. Her body and her brain were both bordering on input overload. Far from feeling like a betrayal, the thought of the Boss all bent over, his arse presented open and begging to Tino, her Tino, made her already clenching insides skitter and let down another juicy flood. She tightened her grip around Tino, who suddenly held very still and pressed his arse back expectantly.
She watched in amazement as the Boss gave his jutting penis a liberal coating of lube with impatient strokes. Then he positioned himself and Tino pressed back further. ‘That’s my big boy,’ the Boss crooned. ‘Just relax and let me take you, let me fill that tight back-hole of yours.’ With his cock fisted tight like it was a weapon, he pushed forward. Tino gave a guttural grunt and pushed back hard, his yielding pucker swallowing the Boss whole. And suddenly it was the Boss who whimpered.
It was then that Stella realised Tino’s gaze was locked on her. When she pulled her attention away from the spectacle being carried out in the mirror for her benefit, he offered her the tiniest hint of a smile then dropped a hungry kiss onto her mouth. When she returned his smile, when she returned his kiss and began to breathe again, he thrust back against the Boss hard enough to make the man grunt out his breath and grab on to Tino’s hips for the ride.
And a strange ride it was. At first it was almost like the Boss was vicariously fucking Stella, following each of Tino’s thrusts with hard strokes, then riding Tino back until he almost dislodged himself when Tino next thrust forward. The extra weight made for extra momentum, and the press inside Stella felt like it went all the way up to the base of her brain.
Then the Boss changed the rhythm, thrusting forward when Tino thrust back. His thrusts became tight little bucks, the strain of which now showed on his pleasure-contorted face. The muscles in his arms bulged and quivered the closer he got to release. And Tino, sandwiched in between, had wriggled his middle finger deep into Stella’s anus, somehow managing to keep the pressure on and maintain the perfect rhythm even with all the other stimulation avalanching in on him.
They had all three reached the point where flesh was in danger of shattering like glass, breath was only a distant memory, and the world had narrowed to their points of connection. Their breathless chase and scramble for release exploded from behind when the Boss came first, the impact of his thrust nearly knocking all of them over the stool, but Tino’s legs stiffened as his own orgasm raged up through him to be met head on by Stella’s.
There were screams and growls and snarls, and Stella didn’t know whose belonged to whom in the pile of trembling, sweating flesh draped precariously over the stool. Then they managed to stumble back to the pallet somehow, Tino carefully lifting her so that they could maintain the connection just a little longer. On the pallet, the Boss pulled the blanket around the three of them, then they all snuggled close and slept.
Long toward morning, the Boss woke her. ‘Come, Stella, darling. We need to get you back to your pallet before the handler gets worried.’
Tino was loath to let her go, pulling her tightly against him. His cock was still nestled in her pussy and she felt as though her insides had been ripped away when the Boss pulled her to her feet. ‘Tino, you know she has to go. You have to go. I’ve been more than generous with the two of you, now don’t force me to regret it.’
From somewhere he produced a towel and cleaned her pussy as best he could, then he allowed Tino a few minutes to hold her and kiss her goodbye. ‘Don’t look so grim, you two. There’ll be other times.’
Her last sight of Tino was him standing at the open door of the dungeon watching her ascend the steps into the cool predawn light.
‘He has to leave this morning, which I think is just as well,’ the Boss said, when she could no longer look over her shoulder and see the big Pet. ‘You need to concentrate on your training now, because you’ll be with a keeper this weekend.’ He raised a hand, as though he expected her to protest. ‘I know it seems soon, but we wouldn’t be sending you if we didn’t think you were ready.’ He opened the door to her room and settled her into her pallet. ‘I’ve spoken with Jan. She knows to bathe you before you see the other Pets in the morning and to feed you well after your night’s adventures.’ He ran a hand along her cheek, then bent and kissed her on the mouth. ‘There, you see. Everything’ll be all right, and in time, you’ll understand it all well enough.’ He left her to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
WITH TINO NO LONGER a constant distraction, there was little for Stella to do with the rest of her time but get on with her training. She was kept fairly isolated because she wasn’t on the Pet Shop holiday package, as Jan called it, but mostly because she had a keeper who was anxious to have her for the weekend, much more quickly than a trainee Pet was normally allowed to go out.
For her final exam, she would be a Pet for a pretend keeper selected by Audrey and Master. She was to be with him through the night and until noon tomorrow. She had been told he was a man, but nothing more. She was bathed and brushed and fitted with the Foreplayer. Then she was left to wait for her handler to take her to the cottage where she would meet her keeper. It felt like she waited for ages. She was just beginning to wonder what caused the delay when the door burst open and Audrey rushed in.
‘Change of plans,’ she spoke between barely parted lips. Her voice was breathless, tight. ‘You won’t be needing the Foreplayer.’
She already had the harness half off Stella when Jan approached her with a pair of loose-fitting mauve trousers and a matching T-shirt. She was practically bouncing with excitement. ‘Your real keeper has requested that you leave immediately to join him. This is so exciting.’ She spoke as though she were announcing Stella’s marriage.
Audrey shot the handler a warning glance before turning her attention back to Stella and hurrying her into the T-shirt. ‘Your real keeper has insisted that you be sent today.’ Once she had shimmied the trousers up over Stella’s hips, she handed her a pen and pad. ‘You’ll need your passport. A handler will be arriving at your flat in about five minutes. Can you write down where it is so I can direct him to it? Good girl, now come. You’ve got a bit of a journey ahead of you. And don’t look so frightened, darling. I promise you, all will be revealed very shortly, and everything will be just fine.’ The enthusiasm in the woman’s voice sounded a bit forced to Stella.
Accompanied by a black-suited handler who carried the mauve and crème rucksack someone had selected for her, she arrived at Heathrow, but not at Departures. When the handler helped her out of her carrier, it was a smartly dressed male flight attendant who took her bag, offered her his arm and led her up the steps of a private jet. On board the attendant addressed her. ‘You are to relax and enjoy the flight, Ms James. I’ve been instructed that you have a very bad case of laryngitis and can’t speak, so we’ll do our best to make you comfortable. Now buckle in. We’ll be underway in a few minutes.’
She could barely manage the seatbelt, she was trembling so badly. Her mind was vacillating between all the horrible things she could imagine that might happen to her once she left the safety of the UK and memories of the last time she was put aboard a private jet.
‘Here, let me help you with
that.’ Suddenly Vincent Evanston, well turned out in Armani, clean shaven, every hair in place, knelt in front of her, laid his large hands over hers and slid the buckle into place. And she collapsed in a puddle of shakes.
‘Oh for heaven sake, Stella, it’s all right. There, there, now. Calm down.’ He settled in next to her and slipped his arms around her. ‘It’s all right. What did you think, that they had sold you to the highest bidder for some despot’s harem in outer bumfuck somewhere? It’s just me. That’s all, just me, and I promise I’ll have you back in time for work on Monday.’
He tut-tutted, and his face became suddenly serious, though she could see the smile threatening to break through. ‘I can only imagine how long this weekend is going to be for the mighty Stella James, a whole 48 hours bursting at the seams with so many burning questions, and not being allowed to ask any of them. You poor thing.’
The laugh that forced its way up her throat sounded pathetically like a sob. She tried to shove him away playfully, but he caught her face and landed a kiss across her lips, with just the tiniest flick of tongue to make her catch her breath. ‘Don’t think I’m a softie, Stella. That would be a mistake. I’ll happily punish you soundly for misbehaving. How else are you going to learn to be a proper Pet?’
The pilot announced departure, and Vincent buckled in next to her. As soon as the plane was levelled at cruising altitude, and the seatbelt sign was switched off, he unbuckled himself and her, took her hand, and hurried her to the back of the plane, which was partitioned off to house a built-in bed. He motioned to the mattress. Once she was on it, he pushed her to the centre and practically tore her clothes off, with her using all the control she had not to help him. At last, when he had her naked and her clothes shoved onto the floor, she rose on her haunches to sniff and nuzzle him in the getting-acquainted ritual. But Vincent rolled on top of her and trapped her spreadeagled beneath him. ‘You don’t need to get to know me, Stella. You already have my scent, and I have yours.’ Then he sat astraddle her and shoved and pushed his own clothes off until expensive Armani lay as casually discarded as cheap jersey.
But when he lowered himself onto her she bit him hard on the right pec just above his nipple.
‘Ouch! You little devil, you!’ He pinned her to the bed with his knees pressing almost painfully against her biceps and examined the bite. Then he offered a throaty chuckle. ‘Marking territory are we? Well at least you had the decency not to piss on me.’ His eyes sparked like fire. ‘Two can play at that game though.’ He dropped his full weight on her and lowered his mouth to her throat just where the boney press of the trachea gave way to the soft smooth flesh of the nape, and he bit. He bit hard enough to cause her to yelp, hard enough to make her eyes water, before his lips took over the effort, and he suckled and nibbled the soft flesh of her until she could feel the intensity of his pull all the way down to her pussy. His fingers curled tightly in her hair and held her neck exposed. The other hand found its way to the nearest breast and strummed at her nipple with a rough thumb.
The sounds coming from her throat were incoherent as he brought every nerve ending in her body to tingle and rage at his attention. He forced her legs apart with his knees and dropped to rake his demanding erection against the swell and splay of her cunt. And suddenly she was struggling with every ounce of her subdued strength to position her hips to get his cock right where she needed it.
He didn’t deny her. A slight shift of his hips and a grunting thrust and he was in deep and hard. He didn’t bother to ease his efforts; he didn’t bother to give her time to adjust to his thickness. Somehow the rough way he shoved her full made her hotter and gave her permission to play rough right back. She wrapped her legs around him and kicked like he was a bronco and she intended to break him.
He brought his arms down the side of his body and trapped her legs for damage control. Then he pulled away from her throat with another painful nip, pausing to admire his efforts. ‘Now, everyone will know that you’re mine,’ he gasped. ‘You won’t even need to wear a collar.’
Jesus, she couldn’t believe he’d marked her on her neck right where everyone could see, like she was some horny chav. She had to work on Monday. It was too damned hot to wear a high-necked blouse. But even as she thought about it, she had to admit she kind of liked the idea of wearing his mark so that everyone could see, so that everyone could imagine how he had fucked her, how he had subdued her, how he had made her pussy clench and gush around his thrusting cock.
She made another futile attempt to kick him, but he just held her closer and thrust harder. And it was enough. Suddenly the shaking all over her body had nothing to do with nerves as she bucked and convulsed her orgasm while he rode harder until the bed shook, and he stiffened and jerked his load into her gripping cunt. Then he collapsed on top of her.
After he’d managed to catch his breath, he pulled out, leaving a warm trail of sticky come on the inside of her thigh. Then he cleaned himself and began to dress. He started to put on his tie, but thought better of it and tossed it on the nightstand. ‘I have work to do,’ he said. Then he bent and kissed her cheek. ‘But you have nothing to do but lie here all wet and sticky and smelling of our sex until I get back to you.’ He settled a wet kiss onto each of her nipples then pulled the blanket up over her. ‘And I will get back to you before we land. I’m not nearly finished with the in-flight entertainment yet.’
She never slept on planes, and yet she did this time, deeply, peacefully. At some point in the timeless void that was airline travel, she woke to find him curled around her, naked, his hard penis nestled against her arse. One large hand curved protectively over her pubis, middle finger stretched between her folds.
‘Tino?’ She spoke his name from the muzzy-minded state of half-sleep, and felt his drowsy whisper against the back of her neck.
‘Tino’s not here. Just Vincent, and if you speak again, I’ll have to spank your little bottom, won’t I?’ He pulled her closer.
They were already on the ground when he woke her again. He was fully dressed in jeans and a jumper looking amazingly no worse for the wear. ‘Come on, woman. Let’s get you dressed and out to the jeep. We still have a couple hours’ drive ahead of us.’
This time there was no limo waiting and no driver. Instead the sexiest blue jeep she had ever seen was parked waiting for them on the tarmac. The top was off exposing the elegant roll bar and frame to the late afternoon sun. Vincent helped her on with a leather jacket, buckled her into the jeep then climbed into the driver’s seat. ‘I wanted you to enjoy the gorgeous scenery, Stel,’ he said, as he cranked the engine and they headed away from the airport. ‘I seldom use the limo, and besides Pets much prefer fresh air over stuffy old cars, don’t they?’ He spoke like he knew, she thought. And yet of course Vincent Evanston would prefer the great outdoors. He opened a cooler between the seats and pulled out two bottles of water. ‘Sorry, Stel, you’ll have to drink for yourself till I get you home. I don’t want you dehydrating after all that fucking and the long plane ride, but I’ve got to drive.’
And drink she did. The whole bottle, an effort she was beginning to regret by the time they had left the city and were heading out over the Coastal Range. The bumpy scenic backroads Vincent had chosen to take them on didn’t help her heavy bladder. She tried to pay attention as he chatted away about the volcanic make-up of the Pacific Northwest, and the unique ecosystems that had developed because of the volcanism of the region. And indeed it was fascinating to know that the area was long overdue for a major eruption in the Cascades, and that the Mt St Helen’s eruption in 1980 might have been just the tip of the iceberg. But none of that fascinating information helped her distended bladder.
‘It’s one of the prettiest places on the planet,’ he was saying, as he pulled to the side of the deserted road. ‘And I’m looking forward to showing you some of my favourite parts of it.’ He stopped the jeep, shut off the engine and turned expectant eyes on her. ‘Well?’
She didn’t move.
>
‘All that water has to go somewhere, Stel.’ He looked down at her hands folded protectively low over her belly, then he undid her seatbelt. ‘Pee break. I could use one myself.’ He undid his own seatbelt and stepped out of the jeep. She uttered a startled cry and looked away as he undid his fly.
He laughed softly. ‘Oh for heaven sake, Stella, it’s not like you haven’t seen my cock before. Besides, Pets aren’t squeamish about peeing. Guess you haven’t had that lesson yet. Never mind, just turn your back and I’ll turn mine.’
She would have waited if she could have, but in her desperate straits, she squatted as close to the jeep as she could and let go, hoping she wouldn’t pee on her trousers, and trying desperately not to listen to Vincent happily relieving himself on the other side of the jeep.
In truth, they’d only been about ten minutes from Vincent’s home, and she had the distinct impression he had made her pee in the wild on purpose. But at the first sight of The Lookout, she forgot to be angry. The Lookout was what Vincent affectionately called the big cantilevered house that was mostly glass and wood set high enough to view the Pacific Ocean in one direction while nestling against the breast of the hilly woodland in the other. Once inside, he led her across pale sandstone floors of what was mostly an open-plan house, back to a big bedroom. It showcased a glassed-in patio that led down to a protected wild garden below. The big high bed looked out over the landscape of conifers and rugged volcanic rocks and gave the distinct feeling of being in a treehouse.
Her intake of breath at the view made him blush with pride. ‘My room,’ he said. ‘Our room while you’re here.’ He held her gaze. ‘If you’re good, I’ll let you sleep in the bed with me.’
Now it was her turn to blush.
He nodded to the hardwood floor. ‘Sit down and let me get you undressed. You’ve had an uncomfortably long time in those clothes, and I want to look at you. I would have loved to have made you ride naked in the jeep. Since I first met you that thought’s given me my share of hard-ons. But alas that might have gotten us arrested, and I don’t intend to spend our time together in jail.’