She gave up and let go, rocking back against Santiago, squirming anxiously, anything to feel Carlos' cock moving inside of her, grunting and groaning like an animal.
"You want it harder?" Santiago panted, and as if she were answering, she slammed back harder against him. The force rocked her on Carlos' cock and her pussy clutched at him hungrily.
The pain was red hot; Santiago was relentless and Lenore actively sought the pain, and the punishment. James knew her better than she. This was what she deserved. Sodomized mercilessly by a man who despised her. Offering protests wouldn't help. James was treating her exactly the way she deserved to be treated.
"Oh fuck," Santiago groaned and she could feel the warmth of his cum spilling deep in her ass. Lenore smiled inside. The price had been paid. She jerked forward against Carlos, and Santiago's wet, dwindling cock slipped away.
Lenore began to move on Carlos, rising and falling on his cock. Bracing her hands on his shoulders she guided her body up and down. Carlos' big hands covered her breasts. Kneading and squeezing, he was rough and frantic, she quickened her pace, raising and falling with the same urgency.
The hunger that was building in her belly made her ache, both for the loss of serving James this way and the new desires that had suddenly been unleashed since she'd met Carlos.
Carlos' grunts became louder; he squeezed both her nipples sharply between his fingers and thumbs. Lenore couldn't stop the wave of pleasure that traveled through her body. The world was blinding and white, and a shrill cry escaped her. She shuddered against Carlos' chest, oblivious to Santiago or James' presence in the room.
Something inside of her shattered when the waves of pleasure crested.
Master James said something, but it was only words. She didn't hear or understand. What did it matter? She rested her face against Carlos' neck, burrowing her face in the hollow, her lips pressed to his sweaty skin.
"Love you," she murmured. It was inaudible, but that didn't matter, what mattered right now was that she felt it. That she was capable of it.
"Lenore!" James' voice pulled her back into reality.
Her stomach suddenly felt sick. There was no way that this twisted, bizarre experience had brought her closer to Carlos. If anything it had shown him what she was.
She was James Acheson's slut, his property. Like the horses in the barn, the cattle in the field ... Nothing more.
CHAPTER SIX
She was allowing this to happen. No matter the violent hold that James had of her hair, in reality she knew how weak and feeble he was, and if she wanted to, she could easily fight him. She did not fight, she allowed him to continue dragging her through the dewy grass. James was gravely ill, his organs were shutting down, and they both had known for quite a while that it was only a matter of time. The end of James' life was going to be the same way that he had always lived: completely on his terms.
"You're going to tell them, Lenore. You're going to kneel naked on the goddamn floor and you're going to tell them that you're going to reward them for working so hard. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Sir."
"This will teach you," James' rant continued. He was high on his pain medication and his words were badly slurred." You think these people deserve a raise? You can give them a raise, Lenore!"
He paused to catch his breath and kicked her in the side with the pointed toe of his expensive ostrich skin cowboy boots. The pain didn't register in her cloudy mind. James had given her a few of his pills to make this night easier for her. She wished she'd never taken them because she needed pain. Physical pain, brutal, crushing pain, enough pain to overshadow this mental torment that was tearing her apart.
Lenore made a final futile attempt to stop the inevitable. "Take me to the stable. Please, Sir?"
He didn't have the strength to, and Lenore knew it. He glanced down at her. His beautiful, haggard face with its familiar leathery skin was twisted with pain. She wrapped her arms around his leg, hugging it tightly, wishing she could take his suffering and endure it for him to stop his torment.
"I want you to whip me," Lenore pleaded.
James' silvery gray hair gleamed in the moonlight, and now, in these final moments together, she could feel how much he loved her.
"Perhaps your hired man will whip you," he said softly. He came down on one knee, bent his head down to her, and he kissed her tenderly. For this moment he wasn't Master James, he was a frail, dying man. "Do you love him? It's okay ... you can."
Lenore met James' gaze and tears burned in her eyes. James didn't want her to see him like this, but he was allowing her, for one last time, to understand that he was only a man.
"Why does it matter? He can never be you."
"That's not what I asked you. Do you love him?"
"Yes."
He stood back up and she watched him change. He was the Master again, in complete control. Hard and demanding, unwilling to yield to her, or to his illness.
"You're a nothing. Just my bitch, my fucking slut. You aren't good enough for me anymore, now you will be the hired men's slut."
Lenore didn't remind him that she had also been his wife for twenty years. He wanted her to hate him, to make what was coming easier. James was going to die. They had both accepted that, but tonight the words James spoke made it real. He wanted her to hate him and yet he was giving her a gift. She'd never hidden anything from James, until Carlos. There had never been a reason to hide, her heart, her body, all of her had always belonged to James, but in her mind she had been unfaithful to James a thousand times over with Carlos. It had spiraled beyond her control, blossomed and bloomed like the flowers in her garden, until Carlos Ortiz was firmly rooted in her heart.
James was doing this because he loved her. To an outsider it would look as if he was being callous, but she knew how hard this was for him. He was admitting that he could no longer have her and the anger he showed was masking the loss, for both of them. This had been a long time in the making, and she'd been expecting it. Let him take her to them.
James had never had any respect for how hard they worked, he only demanded more. He called them names, and she'd seen him spit on Carlos more than once. James' treatment of them was inexcusable. Over the course of their marriage she'd kept her mouth shut about a lot of things, but she couldn't stand idly by and watch him treat those men like shit day in and day out.
Carlos and Santiago had stayed on here because they had a roof over their heads and a meager pay at the end of each week, but she knew how much they hated James. Santiago in particular; his eyes blazed with that hatred every single day. He said Yes Sir, but the quiet rage in his voice was evident. He looked at Lenore the same way, with black, angry eyes, and it frightened her. She'd never done anything to him, but Lenore always suspected that the hatred he had for James spilled over to her.
She heard James' boot hit the step of the trailer, and he dragged her up it. He flung the door open without knocking.
Her heart sped up as he pulled her through the doorway. This was risky; Santiago could hurt her. He wasn't James. Santiago was a man who had endured almost a year of James' insults and prejudices. He wouldn't just stop if she asked him. The slight edge of fear made her pussy throb.
Carlos would never hurt her. He was a huge man, but he was docile and gentle. He'd slapped her ass hard more than once, but only because James had goaded him into it.
Choking back a rising sob, Lenore unexpectedly began to hope that Santiago would hurt her because she needed something to take her mind off of the pain in her heart. She deserved to be hurt, but more than that, right now she wanted it, needed it.
"Lenore has decided you boys deserve a raise," James announced." Since she is worthless and has no money of her own, I guess she thought that she'd spend mine." He laughed. "She thought wrong. She thought wrong all along! She's never had anything but a cunt, a mouth, and an ass. Both of you take whatever one you want, or take them all, I don't give a fuck. You've both had her. I'd be surprised if you even want
her anymore."
Lenore felt the gritty, dirty carpeting rubbing her raw back, as James dragged her towards the sofa where an uncharacteristically stunned-looking Santiago sat in a ratty chair holding a red plastic cup. Her eyes scanned the small living area and kitchenette looking for Carlos.
He was seated at the small table with a plate in front of him, a fork still in his hand. Lenore met his startled gaze with as much dignity as she could in spite of the circumstances. She looked at the coarse stubble on his face and her hazy mind wandered. She wondered what it would be like to be free to kiss his face, to feel the brush of his beard against her cheek. Her entire world was falling apart but she could still recognize the feeling she had for Carlos. Love.
Shame coursed through her. She loved James, her husband, the one man who had given her everything that she needed. How? How could she love Carlos? She deserved to be punished, not for standing up to James because he treated the hired men poorly, but because she had strayed.
James dropped her at Santiago's feet and gave her another kick. "Get up on your knees and tell them why you are here!" James demanded harshly.
She wanted to look at Carlos, but James was blocking her view of him, so she pulled herself to a kneeling position and looked up at Santiago.
"I'm here to reward you for working so hard," she said hoarsely.
James struck her, hard, in the side of the head. "Lick his boots."
"What?" Lenore stammered. This was something new. Repulsive, and yet she felt a powerful wave of arousal.
James pushed her head down to the floor. "Lick his fucking boots!"
Hesitantly, Lenore touched her tongue to the dirty suede of Santiago's work boot. She wished it were Carlos' feet she was kneeling at.
"There boys, your dream come true. She'll lick whatever you tell her to, do whatever you want. She's yours now."
Master James looked down at her, a sudden flicker of sadness in his eyes. "Remember what you asked me, the first day you were here? How much money I paid her?"
Lenore nodded.
His voice broke for a moment. "Five hundred dollars." He shook his head as if he were disgusted with himself. "Not even as much as one of those fucking horses..." He took a deep breath and regained his composure. "You were priceless to me, Lenore. Worth more than anything in this world."
He turned on his heel and strode towards the door. "Now you are nothing again. Nothing. Don't you fucking dare come back to my house tonight, Lenore." Master James was still for a moment, staring at her, and Lenore silently prayed that he'd changed his mind.
He hadn't, and she could see the way his eyes were clouded with torment and pain. He went out, slamming the door so hard that the small trailer shook.
The silence in the room was immediate. Finally, Lenore heard the clink of Carlos' fork as he laid it on the plate. She raised her head and looked back up at Santiago. She knew that she was naked, but the way that he looked at her made her feel naked. His eyes sparkled with excitement, but his mouth remained set in a grim line.
Santiago glanced over towards Carlos and said something in Spanish. Carlos shook his head. He rose from the chair and took a flannel shirt off of the back of it, then knelt beside her and wrapped it around her.
"What kind of new game is this?" Santiago asked her impatiently. "Your husband is up there on the telephone with the police, isn't he? He's going to say that we brought you down here."
Lenore shook her head. "He's not calling anyone. He wants this to happen; this is my punishment, being given to you."
Santiago looked deeply offended. "If I ever touched you again it would not be punishment," he said sarcastically.
"That's what James said, not me," Lenore answered quickly. Santiago already disliked her; she hadn't meant to offend him.
Santiago smiled wickedly and got up from the sofa. He seemed huge standing over her like this, and yet he was a much smaller man than Carlos.
"Do you want to be punished?" Santiago laughed. He stood over her and the light from the bare bulb on the ceiling cast a glare on the top of his head. Like a halo ... he was suddenly a dark, menacing angel. Lenore realized that while he was more than capable of giving her what she needed, she didn't want it from him.
"I deserve to be," Lenore whispered, looking beside her at Carlos. She remembered the strength in his hands the day he had spanked her.
Carlos helped her stand, and it was only then that she realized how weak her knees were and how hard she was trembling.
Santiago moved towards her and Lenore took a step back until she felt Carlos at her back. In a matter of seconds she was nearly pinned between them.
"Should we punish her, Carlos?" Santiago asked with a smirk. Santiago laid his hand on the side of her jaw. His touch was gentle, but his eyes remained full of hate.
"She doesn't deserve to be treated this way," Carlos said protectively. Lenore pressed tighter back against Carlos, tight enough to feel that he was trembling. He was also hard as a rock. Through his pants she felt the bulge of his cock pressed tight against her lower back. Just the idea that she'd had that effect on him sent desire screaming through her body like an electrical shock.
Santiago's eyebrow jacked, and he looked over Lenore's shoulder at Carlos. "Her husband spits on you. You're nothing to him. We are nothing to her, just her fucking hired help. He fucking spits on you, Carlos!"
"Open your mouth," Santiago demanded, moving close to Lenore's face. When she hesitated he grabbed her nose and held it tightly until she opened her mouth gasping for breath.
Santiago pressed his mouth to hers roughly and spat a thick gob of saliva into Lenore's mouth. She gagged and Santiago grabbed her jaw, pushing up on it until she closed her mouth.
"Swallow it," he said coldly. Lenore could see in his eyes the danger of objecting, although part of her wanted to spit it back in his face just to see what he'd do. She gulped, tasting a sharp tang of whiskey and tobacco on her tongue.
Carlos dragged her backwards, away from Santiago. "What did you do that for, Santi?" he said angrily.
"To show her what it's like! To show her what it's like to have to swallow down all the shit we are given, all the disrespect."
"I've never been disrespectful to you," Lenore said timidly.
Santiago smiled a bit. "No, you let your husband do it. Just like you let him do this. You let him bring you down here because you wanted to come, didn't you? You'll swallow my cum too, won't you, bitch?"
Lenore shook her head in feeble protest, but Santiago already knew it was true, she could see it in his eyes.
"Liar," Santiago hissed. "Have you swallowed Carlos'? You'd beg to do that, wouldn't you? You'd crawl on your knees and beg to suck Carlos, wouldn't you?"
"I've seen the way you look at Carlos, like he is some kind of god." He cracked a wide smile then. "You don't look at me that way though. All I see when you look at me is your fear." He took a step closer to her and Lenore trembled. "But, you like that fear, don't you?"
Lenore looked down at the floor, staring at her freshly polished toenails. She hadn't done them in months, but this afternoon she'd prepared for this. She'd done her nails, shaved her legs ... and her pussy.
Despite her feelings for Carlos, Santiago's power was magnetic. She felt dizzy, and reality and fantasy all clouded into a drugged blur. Earlier James had whispered in her ear all the things that he hoped that Carlos and Santiago did to her. She curled her toes into the carpet waiting for what would happen next.
"Leave her alone," Carlos said. She'd never heard him sound angry, or authoritative, but he did now and his voice gave her chills.
"Listen, Carlos," Santiago said. "If you don't want any then just leave. I'm not passing this up. I'll finally do what I want, without her fucking husband telling me what to do." He undid his belt and pulled it free of the loops. Lenore watched him bend the leather in his hands and her heart thundered.
"Mr. James will fire you, fire us..." Carlos said.
Santiago wasn't listening. His
angry eyes locked with Lenore's. "You've been asking for more for a long time, haven't you? Wearing those short little sundresses while you worked in the garden ... you are a little cocktease, aren't you?"
Lenore shook her head.
Santiago smiled cruelly. "Good, because you're not going to tease it. You're going to suck it."
Her breath caught, and she looked at him, searching for something besides contempt in his eyes.
"Are you going to do that Lenore?" Santiago asked smugly. "Are you going to suck my cock?"
Lenore cleared her throat nervously. "James said I am to do whatever you say."
Santiago's eyes lit up.
"Both of you," Lenore added quickly, because it was not Santiago that she wanted.
"Get that fucking shirt off of her, Carlos," Santiago said.
Carlos didn't listen to him; instead he pulled the shirt tighter around her. She could sense his need to protect her.
Her legs shook harder, and she considered running back to the house, back to James. Maybe if she begged James he would change his mind. Her eyes slipped closed and the image of James' face twisted in pain flashed in her mind. She had to do this, she had promised. This was what James wanted.
"No, Santiago. Leave her alone," Carlos said.
Santiago approached her slowly, still holding his belt. His hand slipped under the shirt and he casually put it beneath one of her breasts and lifted, weighing it in his hand. She looked down at the floor.
"What's the matter, Carlos? Is she too old for you? Not pretty enough for you?" Santiago asked. He was almost smiling at her, although his eyes seemed to remain cold. "She's not bad."
Not bad at all," Santiago said softly against her ear. Her senses felt dim, but she still shivered as his breath ticked against her ear and her neck.
His hand skimmed down her side and rested on her hip.
Santiago's rough hand touched her thigh, pushing hard between her legs, his thick fingers explored her, discovering her wetness.
"She's wet, Carlos," Santiago announced. His voice lowered to a growl. "So fucking wet."
Mastered by the Hired Man Page 9