Dominion Trust Series - Vol.1 (51 page)

He wanted her mouth now, and she was going to give him exactly what he wanted — whatever it was.

Squeezing his shaft, she placed a soft kiss on the purple, swollen head, tasting the precome gathered there. He growled at her, but a half smile played at his lips.

“Grab those tits. Present them to your Master.”

Her hands gathered up the weight of her breasts, huddling them together the way she knew he liked best. The pulse pounded in her throat.

“Higher!”

Obeying, she hoisted them, arching her back.

“Very nice,” Kurt said, dropping his gaze to her breasts.

“Incredible,” she heard Derek murmur. Inside, she beamed at their praise, but she couldn’t help but drop her eyes anyway.

“Hands at your side, girl.”

Dropping them, she clasped them to her thighs rather than let him see how badly her fingers trembled, longing to touch him again.

Kurt’s big penis slapped one breast then the other, making her gasp. He played the heavy head of his cock over the tips of her breasts, leaving each hard nipple glistening with his fluid. “Every time I see her tits, I want to …
claim
them. Show everyone they’re mine. It’s always been that way. Makes no sense, does it?”

She knew better than to think he was speaking to her, and she stayed silent, her flush warming her cheeks. Still, it made her think of the very first time she’d bared her breasts to her husband all those years ago, how he’d simply stared at them in heated silence for long minutes, turning her this way and that, her breath coming faster, his hard hands weighing them, kneading them, lightly slapping them so he could watch them sway as she blushed crimson.

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Derek said, mischief in his voice. “Something about a nice set of big tits. I want to pinch those long nipples of hers, squeeze them until she whimpers. That’s just as weird, right? Probably weirder.”

“Perv,” Kurt grunted.

“Sicko.”

Her blush felt so hot she feared her face might spontaneously combust. It was insane to still feel bashful around these men, but she did — especially when they spoke as if she weren’t even there, holding up her breasts for their inspection as if they were ripe melons at the market.

“Put those hands behind your back.” His eyes flashed over to Derek. “Would you like to help her?”

“Gladly.”

Derek’s hands closed over her forearms, and she gasped, as he pulled them behind her swiftly, immobilizing them in his steel grip.

Kurt took her breasts in his hands, and laying his penis down the valley of her cleavage, squeezed them tight around the burning hot shaft. He thrust within the soft confines of her breasts for a time, murmuring, his fingers digging into the vulnerable slopes, the thick head tickling the base of her throat on each upstroke.

She moved her arms against the tight grip of Derek’s hand holding them together at the wrists. Fingers entwined in the heavy weight of her hair, Derek’s warm breath at her temple. “Be still, Breanna. Very still now. Your body belongs to us, all of it. Let him use it.”

Kurt watched her as he thrust between her breasts, his jaw hard, his breathing coming faster. “Now you know what I want next don’t you, girl?”

“Yes, Master.” Her mouth already watered.

The hard cock was pulled from the clutch of her breasts, the heavy head presented to her lips. “Suck.”

The taste of him on her tongue always made her moan, her eyes rolling back as she licked the veined length of him, sealing her lips around that swollen head and plunging down. Kurt took up her pendent breasts again, kneading them in his strong fingers, concentrating the pressure into her nipples such that she moaned again with the delicious pain of it.

Derek’s hand tightened in her hair, pain flaring in her scalp, and pressed her head forward. She felt the gag reflex coming on and tensed, her arms twisting in his grip.

“Shh. Calm, calm,” Derek whispered. “You know how to do this. Very still, remember? You’re just a vessel, Breanna. You’re ours. Take your Master all the way now.”

Somehow she managed it, taking that big penis fully into her throat, his coarse, fragrant pubic hair rasping her nostrils. She tried to remain utterly still, concentrating on her breathing, her eyes closed, waiting on the next command.

This is surrender. Surrender to this, Breanna. This is what you’ve wanted. Accept it now.

And she did as Derek pulled her off Kurt’s cock, until just the heavy shaft pulsed on her tongue, her breath coming hard and fast.

“Again,” Kurt growled, tweaking both her nipples.

Down Derek forced her once more, holding her on him longer this time, a sound deep in her throat as her pulse pounded harder and harder. She gasped loudly as he pulled her off again. She looked up at her husband, his lips curved in a warm, satisfied smile.

“One more. Obey me,” Kurt said softly, squeezing her breasts together rhythmically.

As she took him a third time her upper body tensed, twisting a little, the big penis throbbing deep in her throat. But Derek didn’t bring her back up until he was ready, Breanna sucking in a great gust of breath as the head popped from her lips.

“You’re getting
so
good at that.” Kurt leaned forward suddenly and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Such a good girl.”

Kurt reclined back then with a nod to Derek.

“Lips tight around that cock now, Breanna. Serve him like you served me. Make him come with that beautiful mouth of yours.”

Never before had she felt more a
thing,
owned property, as Derek’s tight grip on her hair dictated the speed at which she bobbed up and down that long, hard cock. Kurt’s terse commands for more tongue, telling her to suck harder, made her lonely clit throb forlornly between her quaking thighs. But even though it was torture knowing there was no orgasm in sight for her, she accepted it, for it surely must have been torture for her husband to watch her servicing Derek right there next to him. She wanted this, even wanted to suffer in this small way for him, for her husband, for this man she loved with all her heart.

His legs tightened against her, the big cock jerking in her mouth, and he grunted, pulling it from the ring of her tired, rapidly numbing lips.

“Show me that tongue,” he ordered, voice thick. His fist slid up and down the inflamed shaft quickly. “All the way out now.”

She watched his fist piston faster and faster until he groaned, the veins of his forearm standing out, the congested purple head swelling even more in his grip.

Kurt’s cock slapped down onto her wet tongue, his fist still moving at the base of the shaft. “Look at me, girl.”

His dark gaze caught hers, holding her with the strength of ten men. “You’re ours. Always. Always.”

Then his mouth dropped open with a soul-deep groan, his eyes squeezing tight, and burning ropes of semen leapt out onto her tongue, deep into her open mouth, some of his seed spurting across her upper lip, laying a hot track along her cheek.

She pulled against Derek’s grip, but his hand clamped her wrists brutally tight. “No. Stay there.”

Kurt shuddered, then came to once more, his heated gaze meeting hers again. “Swallow it. All of it.”

She gulped down the salty fluid, secretly savoring it, yet insanely, embarrassed by that fact. It made no sense, but she didn’t
want
them to know how much she liked it. She couldn’t decide if it was some tiny internal rebellion or her self-consciousness at play, but she just let it be. There’d be a place to confess that some other time, a future opportunity for them to punish her for her lust.

Kurt gave her a lazy smile. “Almost killed me with that mouth, Breanna.”

He swiped the rapidly cooling line of his fluid from her cheek and moistened her lower lip with it, making her lick the rest of it from his finger.

“Can we just keep her locked up and make her do this whenever we want?” She could hear the smile in Derek’s voice even as she blushed anew. “A little cell in the basement for her maybe? Three squares and hard fuckings all day long?”

Kurt’s rich laughter washed over her. “Might put a crimp on her practice, my friend. Sounds pretty damned good though, doesn’t it?”

Derek let go of her wrists with a gentle parting squeeze and released the grip on her hair, letting the tresses fall all around her, blessedly hiding her face, if only a moment.

“Come here,” Kurt murmured close to her ear, gathering up her hair so he could kiss her cheek. “I want to hold my wife.”

She let his strong arms pull her up into his lap then, curling her into a little ball against his chest, the still semi-erect penis moist against her hip. Kurt pressed kisses to the top of her head, murmuring little noises at her as she burrowed against him, breathing his scent in deep, luxuriating in the strong, safe embrace of those muscular arms.

Derek’s eyes had that look in them once again as he looked on, that almost sad, wistful distance to his gaze that made her heart twist. She reached for him then, and he took her hand, twining her fingers tightly with his. Catching his eye, she mouthed the words to him that repeated over and over in her mind: “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The smile he gave her in return filled her with such warmth that she sighed. Though she feared what came next, she knew she could face it.

With their love, she knew she could face anything.

Chapter Thirty

“J
esus H Christ,” Derek said under his breath.

“I told you it would be like this.” Kurt glanced at him as they walked out to the track. “Did you think I was lying?”

Maybe he’d thought Kurt was exaggerating. Or maybe Derek’s mind still couldn’t wrap itself around what it was seeing. There were numerous vehicles parked outside the barn, much as they were on auction night. He’d wondered at the few horse trailers he’d seen among the cars — filing that question away for later when he got a chance to ask Kurt.

They’d taken Breanna straight to her stall, only to find the entire block, surprisingly, deserted. He’d expected Kink Central, but all they’d found was Lino, his bright smile particularly malevolent. There were about a thousand things Derek wanted to do rather than leave her with the Spaniard, but the fog of arousal already clouding her gorgeous blue eyes and the soft press of her lips to his cheek told him what he needed to know.

But when they’d come walking out of the stable block and out toward the track, Derek’s legs had almost stopped working. This made last weekend look like a mere warm-up.

Entire stands, several rows deep, complete with leather covered seats that gleamed in the daylight had been set up around the perimeter of the track, quite close to the fence. A smattering of people sat in the seats talking amongst themselves, but most were gathered along the fence proper. The growing throng were almost uniformly well-dressed, as if out for a formal occasion, the men in crisp, dark suits, the few women accompanying them dressed in their finest, the bright sunlight glinting off beringed fingers and jeweled earrings. One attractive young woman in a light blue dress watched, her hand to her mouth, eyebrows raised as her male companion whispered something in her ear as they looked on.

A powerfully built man in tight fitting fawn-colored pants, his shoulder-length blond hair moving in the breeze, stood on the track facing the crowd. In his hand a length of silver chain led to the bridle imprisoning the pretty face of a bound, silent woman. Her arms where encased behind her back in a breathlessly tight harness, her hands nowhere to be seen beneath the black leather. Buxom breasts fair burst from between the brutal embrace of more straps criss-crossing her pale chest. Her body was mostly nude, a severe waist-cincher seeming to bifurcate her lush figure into two curvaceous, imprisoned halves. The cincher, burnished steel attachment points shining in the sunlight, left her sleek legs and plump buttocks entirely bare. Striking red hair shone between the jet black straps that criss crossed over her head, holding the bridle in place. The soft lips were cruelly pulled back by a bright silver bit, chains from each end leading down to the single lead the man clasped in his hand.

A small crowd had gathered at the railing, intently watching, murmuring amongst themselves. The man led the bound woman along the rail, the snap of his crop at her legs forcing her into an exaggerated high-step, the toned muscles of her thighs tense as she pranced to the sting of his whip.

“Who is …?” Derek swallowed down the lump in his throat as he took in the vision of her cruelly constricted curves, that silky red hair, the plumpness of her buttocks.

“Remember the auction?” Kurt asked, his voice low. “The one sold off before you bid on Breanna?”

“Her? There’s no way that’s …”

“It’s Shae, all right. Quite a transformation, and it’s only been a week.”

The man guiding her by the chain turned her, a crisp snap of his crop on the back of her thigh making her keen as she pranced the opposite direction before the onlookers.

Then Derek saw it — the brand on her ass. The same letter B emblazoned on her pale flesh, the very one he couldn’t quite believe he’d seen the night of the auction.