Date Published: July 2014
She looked from Lucas to John, who said, “You will obey these men as you would me. Don’t give me cause to be disappointed in you, Kay.”
Wyatt said, “She’s shy.” That pleased him, judging by the silky smile he bestowed on her.
Lucas said, “I will not tell you twice.” Kay approached him, still shivering, still looking to John for guidance. Perhaps hoping he’d pull her to him and send these strangers away.
Lucas stared at her for a long, charged moment, then said, “Take off your clothes.” When she blushed and started to back up, he added, in that honeyed Brazilian accent, “Such touching modesty. How can I warm you if you keep those wet things on?”
That earned a wicked chuckle from Wyatt, who turned to John and stated the obvious. “You’ve never shared her.”
John shook his head. “But she’s obedient–she wants to please me. Don’t you, Kay?”
“Y-yes, Sir.” Kay’s blazer was open. She shrugged out of it and dropped it to the grass. Her trembling fingers struggled with the buttons of her blouse as the three men patiently watched. Finally the blouse opened and she hesitated a moment before pushing it off her shoulders and letting it slide to the ground. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breasts pushing against the white lace of her demi bra with every agitated breath. Her nipples were fully erect under the sheer fabric, whether from fear or cold or excitement, he couldn’t say–most likely a combination of all three.
She started to unbutton the damp skirt, but Wyatt stopped her. “Not yet.” He rose and circled her, admiring the spectacle of John’s beautiful, half-dressed submissive reluctantly preparing herself to be used by other men. Her embarrassment and trepidation seemed to stoke his lust.
Wyatt tipped up her chin and studied her expression, her glittering amber eyes, her flared nostrils. He removed his top hat and spun it onto the grass, then wound Kay’s long, blond hair around his gloved fist and jerked her head back. He held her gaze as he dipped his mouth to ravage hers. His cape fell forward to drape them both, and all John saw of her was her pale face and hair.
[...] John’s cock twitched as he watched her, watched desire flare to life within her, despite her obvious efforts to tamp it down. She shot him an apprehensive look. She thought he’d be angry if she responded sexually to another man–he could see it in her eyes. Then her gaze dropped to John’s hands and what he was doing with them, and her breath caught.
His pocketknife was in one hand, a thin tree branch in the other. He was stripping the leaves and bark, turning the branch into a smooth, bare switch.
Wyatt grabbed the wooden ladder-back chair he’d recently vacated and spun it around so the back faced John, who wordlessly offered him the switch. Wyatt accepted it, ran his leather-clad fingers along the thin length of wood about a quarter inch wide and two and a half feet long. He bent the switch, testing its springiness. He whipped it through the air and it sang.
Kay flinched. She was breathing hard now, clearly struggling to govern her fear and display obedience.
Wyatt said simply, “This will do.”
Lucas came to his feet, his pale eyes glowing in anticipation as he stood over Kay. “Take that off.” He gestured to her bra. With trembling fingers she reached behind her to release the hooks. She held the garment to her chest for a moment before letting it fall.
“The tits are exquisite.” Lucas draped her hair behind her shoulders, the better to admire her breasts, which trembled with her agitation, their pink tips tightly puckered. “Assume Standing Position,” he ordered, and she blinked in confusion. He turned to John. “You haven’t trained your slave.”
“I haven’t had time. I’ve only used her the once.”
“Like this.” Lucas lifted her hands and linked them behind her neck. He spread her elbows wide. “Open your legs. Chin up.” She obeyed. “This is Standing Position. Remain like this until you are ordered to move.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
Lucas cupped her breasts in both hands, his attitude one of absolute entitlement. He fondled them, squeezed them, testing their weight and resiliency. Kay’s nervous gaze flashed to John, who stared back impassively. She dropped her eyes. Lucas rolled her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, pinching hard enough to make her wince. He tugged, stretching the tips for a long moment while she held her breath, then released her breasts and watched them bounce. A flush mottled the pale skin of her chest and suffused her face with color.
“She’s a treasure,” Lucas told John. “I’m surprised you’re willing to share her.”
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