The Spanked Wives Club (19 page)

Troy pressed one of the tiny black floggers into Hunter’s hand, the soft, supple falls swinging with a substantial weight belied by their diminutive size.

“You sure it’s okay to use this?” Hunter draped the leather tails over his palm, the falls dropping away one by one, the clean scent of the leather bringing back to Lacey fevered memories, sweet recollections, every time she smelled it.

“I had these made special for this.” Troy elbowed his friend. ‘You afraid? I’ll do the honors if you don’t have the balls to.”

“Over my dead body,” Hunter murmured, his gaze dropping to her proffered breasts.

Oh my God.

“You don’t mean to…
there
?” Her mouth was so dry, her voice was like a desert wind.

“Of course, there,” Troy said, gently smacking the underside of her breast with the back of his hand. “I’ve been dying to put these through their paces all day.” His gaze slipped to Hunter, then back to her. “And I don’t think I’m alone either.”

“But…”

Troy’s brow arched. “You aren’t fooling anyone. Look at these big nipples. They’re like fucking bullets. The body never lies.”

Lacey threw her head back, gasping, as the first stroke fell across her right breast. She wasn’t even sure who’d wielded the flogger, but she knew it didn’t matter anymore. Both men were intent on enjoying themselves, and her lot was to endure — and to obey as she’d been trained.

And the fact that obeying makes your clit hard has nothing to do with this?

Two strokes whisked across her breasts, the tails catching her right nipple in a sharp flash of heat that had her gritting her teeth.

“Jesus…” Hunter said, his voice thick. “Look at the marks.”

“And the way those tits of hers move,” Troy said. “Fuck, she’s incredible.”

Lines of fire caught her under one breast, making it bounce upward, a down stroke across the other one sending it bounding in the opposite direction. The blows were so much heavier than she would ever have believed looking at the tiny little floggers.

Fingers tested the welts adorning her breasts, her nipples tweaked, then twisted before another stinging spray of leather landed across the upper slopes of both globes. She closed her eyes, burying her teeth in the soft flesh of her arm as her breasts danced under repeated strokes, the painful blows only stopping when Troy’s gruff voice warned her to straighten her back, to present her tits for the whip.

Up on her toes as the floggers fell faster, she was keening almost continually until finally the flogging ended. She opened her eyes, finding both men staring at her martyred bosom, bulges at both of their crotches once more.

Dear Lord, these two are insatiable.

Which was just how she liked it.

Yes, being the subject of Troy’s — and now Hunter’s — attentions was a heavy cross to bear, but deep down it was exactly what she needed, exactly what she’d dreamed of for as long as she could remember. To find a man who wouldn’t fall prey to her guile, her excuses, her charms. A man who was strong enough to bend her will to his, no matter what, yet be that rock, that foundation, that refuge of love that she still needed. She’d found her dream man in Troy… and now it appeared she’d found another, every bit the man her husband was.

The question was: what happened now?

She hissed, a tear coursing down her cheek as her husband’s callused palm caressed the throbbing, stinging weight of her breast. She looked down to find both globes were streaked with thin pink lines, her nipples now a healthy red, the skin tight, her flesh feeling almost too full.

“Shh, it’s over now,” Troy said, stroking her cheek, his voice still tight with lust.

Hunter’s big body pressed up behind her as he reached up to release her arms. But rather than release her hands entirely, he simply unwound the rope from the rings embedded in the leather, leaving the snug manacles wrapped around her wrists.

Her legs quaked as she finally lowered her heels to the floor, looking at both men in turn. They appeared unsure what to do next, or perhaps they were momentarily paralyzed by the richness of options. In that moment, as she stood before them, naked, bound, her breasts throbbing angrily after a crisp, thorough flogging, she really
did
feel theirs.

Their plaything, their slave. Theirs to do with as they willed.

Thank God.

* * *

I
t wasn’t the first time she’d been bound like this, but it was the first time she wished, oddly enough, that she could see what they must have seen. Hunter hadn’t simply guided her over to the bed — he’d thrown her onto it, as if she weighed nothing at all.

Troy took great delight in manhandling her around, even when it wasn’t particularly necessary. And apparently, her husband wasn’t the only one who enjoyed carrying her around like a sex toy.

Bound in a very tight leather harness that immobilized her arms high up her back, they’d blindfolded her, a thin cloth gag not so much silencing her as simply reducing any attempt at speech into near gibberish.

She knew Troy liked to hear her cries — and she knew he liked to control even her ability to form speech. He’d take it away, at his whim, as was his right.

Lacey had long ago been at peace with that, even taking an illicit, dark pleasure in his control over her. Where before she worried ceaselessly about the deep need within her for his strict command of her body, she now no longer obsessed over it. He enjoyed controlling her, and she enjoyed being controlled. It didn’t matter to her anymore whether that was right, or wrong. It was simply the way both of them wanted it — and that was good enough for her.

Hunter, who dazzled her once more with skills she’d never have imagined him possessing, had taken down the rope from around the beam — and wrapped her in it.

Using a strict figure eight pattern of rope around her chest and breasts, he’d made the tender globes swell anew, reawakening the burning, bee stung feel of her skin after the flogging. Hard fingertips tested her nipples mercilessly — a familiar chuckle telling her it was Hunter — squeezing and twisting them until she mewled. Then she was placed on her knees in the center of the big bed, her body folded over tightly until her throbbing, swollen breasts pressed to her thighs, her breath coming in quick pants.

She could hear zippers lowering, the sound of a bottle being popped open — then a familiar wet sound that sent chills down her spine, her head coming up, the gag hopelessly garbling her entreaty to them to tell her what they were doing.

You know exactly what they’re doing, Lacey.

The mattress in front of her dipped and she leaned back on her haunches to maintain her balance. Hands brushed her hair from her face, gathering up its heavy weight and tying it into a single ponytail.

“She knows what to do,” Troy’s voice said above her head.

That meant…

Oh, fuck!

“Take your time.” Troy continued. “She’ll be a good girl. She likes this — even if she’d never admit it.”

A strong hand patted her bottom, then she gasped as cool, wet lubricant was applied between her widespread buttocks. She dropped her head, her cheeks flaming as she realized what Hunter could doubtless see now, her position one of intense exposure and vulnerability. Knowing that, she also knew he could see how wet her pussy had become — again — at the prospect, despite her fear, of what was about to happen.

She heard the wet sounds of lubrication being applied behind her, then a quiet sigh from Hunter.

“Fuck, I’m ready to go off already.”

“I know the feeling,” Troy said, laughing. Fingers combed through her hair, the feel of them at her temples pure heaven. She purred, and the hand was presented to her lips. She kissed the knuckles gratefully.

A fingertip pressed at her anus, and she sucked in a breath, always surprised at the sensation as just the tip worked its way inside the tight opening.

“We’re gonna go nice and slow, Lacey,” Hunter said. “Just relax for me now. Only a finger to start. Once we get you used to that, we’ll try… something else. Push back now.”

She didn’t know why his quiet confidence surprised her, but it did. It had always been a guessing game with him. Was he really inexperienced with this? Was he truly a vanilla guy looking to explore kink? Or was he in fact as darkly twisted as her own beloved husband was? As the day went on, she’d had to admit only the latter answer made any sense anymore.

That realization both excited and frightened her. She was truly in over her head, but at this point, there was nothing to be done about that. Right now, she was just along for the ride, going wherever these two strong, virile, and yes, dangerous, males decided to take her.

“Trust me, Hunt, she’s used to a whole lot more than a finger.”

Her embarrassment burned so brightly, she actually whimpered, Troy’s hand patting her on the cheek, his thumb stroking her lower lip as he cooed at her to be still.

The finger finally slipped all the way inside and she willed her flesh to open, to ease his passage. He thrust languidly for a minute, his other hand stroking and squeezing her bottom as he did it.

“There you go. Not bad at all. Feels good, right?”

She nodded eagerly, almost gasping again as he pulled the finger free, the exit always stimulating the nerves just inside the anus even more than the entry. If she could’ve verbalized it, she’d have told him to do that again… and again… and again.

Her womb clenched, the pleasure blooming deep in her belly, the connection between her anus and the rest of her something she still marveled at, despite the shame she still couldn’t help but feel in surrendering that most private part of her body.

Lacey panted as fingers circled her anus gently, then pressed once more, this time, two thick fingers breaching her, slowly easing inside, a slow push and withdrawal until she was moaning softly with the stretching, the pleasure already at a fever pitch inside her bottom.

The penis presented to her opening took her by surprise, the hard, wide head making her tense up momentarily.

“It’s okay, Lacey. We’ll go slow. We’ve got all afternoon.” Hunter’s voice lowered. “Be a good girl now, and puuussshh.”

Troy’s lips brushed her forehead, his fingers stroking her hair again. “You’re taking him, no matter how long it takes us, bad girl. Hunter’s going to give you a long, hard ride. And you’re going to do whatever he tells you, aren’t you, Lacey girl?”

She nodded frantically, feeling the cock at her anus press against her harder.

“Open for it. Open, open.” Hunter’s hand kneaded her buttock once more, then spread over the small of her back. “Easy, easy. There — no, don’t tense — that’s a girl. Open right up.”

The head slid in, a sensation of pinching at first, giving way to a pleasing stretch as she pushed out, relaxing for him.

Jesus…Christ.

Lacey let out a long, keening moan as he slowly eased forward, sliding, sliding, sliding. He stopped a moment, reaching down to cup her sex in his hand, patting her seething heat gently. “You’re doing so well. A little more now. Push, girl. Push.”

“Take that cock all the way, bad girl,” Troy whispered over her. “Open for him. Give your ass to him, slut. It’s his today — just like the rest of you. Give it all to him.”

Hunter groaned then, the shudder of his strong thighs against hers making her push back against him. She wanted all of him, every inch, to that place so far inside, the place of utter satisfaction that came with such deep penetration.

He stilled, his hand rubbing gentle circles over her tailbone, caressing the upper slopes of her buttocks.

“I’m going to fuck you now. Hard.” Hunter’s once smooth voice was harsh now, guttural, the male animal in full control. “If it starts to hurt too much, you snap your fingers. Got me?”

She nodded again, Troy’s heavy palm still atop her head.

“Good.”

Hands took up her hips, the grip so hard, she felt powerless against such strength. Then it began.

Hunter was surprisingly gentle at first, and Lacey swiveled her hips as much as his tight grip allowed. All too soon though, his thrusts worked up, taking her deep and hard as she relaxed fully. More fingers took her nipples, squeezing and caressing in rhythm with the increasingly punishing thrusts, each one deeper than the last, pressing the air from her lungs on each down stroke. Her sex, her perineum, her clit, all of it heated up, in concert with the blazing heat, the incredible sensation blooming ever higher, ever sweeter in her bottom as he took her, perhaps harder than she’d ever been fucked.

Though Lacey panted, and groaned, sympathetic tears once again tracking down her cheeks now and again, inside she was exploding with joy, with the promise of what might be, with the realization of a fantasy, a dream she’d never dared think could be made true.

How many days had she badgered Troy about his friend? How many nights had she wondered how Hunter was doing after Sara had left him? How she’d worried about him, ached with him in his pain, in his loneliness. She knew Troy felt the same, in his own male way, though men never experienced those feelings or expressed them in such concrete terms, at least not about their friends. Still, she knew he’d worried about Hunter too.