The first thing that happened when the door clicked shut behind us was me getting shoved to the floor by Patrick. I yelped as I fell to my knees, kneeling in front of Ike and staring up at him with a mix of shock and longing.
I could see he was starting to get hard; it wasn’t exactly easy to miss when I was at crotch level, and immediately my eyes locked on his zipper. I knew better than to reach for his belt though; because either my hands would be restrained, or I’d be getting face fucked until I was a crying mess. I didn’t notice Mr. Harris step behind me until he grabbed my hair and jerked my head back to look up at him, his other hand coming around to grasp my jaw and stroke up and down my throat.
I swallowed hard and he smirked. My entire body was cold, my skin prickling with electricity that made me shiver slightly. Ike said something quietly to my Master that I couldn’t hear, but he immediately went to the cabinet on the far side of the room. Mr. Harris kept me from watching as he and Ike talked about an upcoming meeting in Seattle. Seriously guys? A naked woman is at your feet and you’re talking about work? I pouted up at them and squirmed, both were quite content pretending I wasn’t there.
They shifted suddenly and Patrick secured a sturdy pink leather collar around my throat, over the metal one he gave me. I didn’t realize right away that it was attached to a long matching leather leash, Ike made very sure to show me that it was when he jerked it hard as Mr. Harris released my hair, pulling me straight to his groin and keeping the chain tight.
“What a cute little bitch,” Master O’Connell said with a face splitting grin.
A chill shot up my spine at the combination of his deep voice and vulgar language. My bosses called me a slut and a whore regularly, but never a bitch, and honestly, I liked it more than I should have. His cock was rigid and pressed against my cheek through the fabric of his pants, without warning I licked my way up the length of it, holding eye contact all the while.
The other men laughed cruelly as they watched him drag me along by the leash, holding it down in such a way that it forced me to crawl on all fours. I didn’t care, the furthest thought from my mind was whether or not they were taking joy in my humiliation, all I wanted was to feel good and that meant making them feel good.
“Does she know any tricks?” Master O’Connell asked the other men, the amusement obvious on his face.
Mr. Harris and Patrick flopped down on the couch facing us, his arms stretched out and spanning the length of it. “You should see her do show and tell,” he replied.
My heart skipped a beat, but I managed to keep a straight face, smiling sweetly and tilting my head to the side. Show and tell was a game Patrick liked to play, it was his way of breaking my shyness and embarrassment about certain words. The idea of doing it in front of an almost complete stranger was mortifying.
“Well?” Master O’Connell asked, cocking an eyebrow as he gazed down at me. “Are you going to show me what a good little bitch you are?” He loosened his grip on the leash, letting me slide backwards on the floor for some more space.
I could only hear my heart pounding in my ears as I spread my leg wide, bracing my heels against the legs of Ike’s chair as he sat in front of me. I knew the words, but I still rehearsed them in my head before I replied to him, I wanted to show him that I was a good girl, that I knew how to follow instructions.
I kneaded my breasts hard, pinching my nipples lightly and trying to hold back my moan. “These are my tits,” I told him as confidently as I could. “I can come like a slut just from playing with my nipples.” I was blushing, the heat burning my cheeks despite how cold I felt on the floor, but I pushed through it - forcing myself to say the things my Master had taught me to.
A muscle in Ike’s jaw jumped as he tried to hide his smirk, reaching up to rub his chin thoughtfully as my hand slid down my abdomen.
“This is my pretty little cunt,” I continued happily, running my tongue along the edges of my teeth as my fingers stroked up and down my slit. Cunt. It was Mr. Harris’ favourite word, and while I could say it if asked to, there was something dirty about saying it to describe my own body while I played with myself. “I like having my Master fill it with his come and begging him to finger me after, sometimes he lets me suck his fingers clean.”
Whatever cold I had been feeling was short-lived because now I could swear my entire body was on fire. It had gotten a lot easier to say these things to Patrick, but not to another man that I barely knew. I hadn’t even played this game with Mr. Harris.
I paused suddenly, my hand trembling as I tried to pull it away from my pussy. I knew what was supposed to come next, but that was utterly terrifying to even contemplate right now.
“Kitten,” Patrick called to me. “Finish your show and tell for Ike, now.” His voice was dark and cold and carried a warning that made butterflies swirl in my stomach.
My arms shook as I rolled over, my cheek pressed to the floor and my ass in the air. My hand moved without my telling it to, muscle memory bringing it to my lips to suck on my middle finger before sliding it over my rear entrance. “This is my ass,” I said, my voice breaking at the end as I forced myself to not whisper. “I like having my Master fuck my ass when I’ve been a brat.”
I heard Mr. Harris chuckle, the mean sound carrying in the relatively silent room. Ike’s hand suddenly met my ass cheek in a harsh blow that made me cry out, more in surprise than pain, my eyes squeezed shut as I tried to calm down. Without warning, he grabbed the leash and jerked me back to him, I scrambled on the floor to push myself up, my heels scratching against the wood and creating a hair-raising sound.
“Take the leash in your teeth,” Ike ordered. “Good, now crawl over to your Master and beg him to let you play with your cunt.”
My heart fluttered and I nodded eagerly, taking the leash in my mouth and making my way over to the other men. I kicked off my heels before I went, I didn’t care if it got me punished, they were irritating to wear while crawling. I knelt in front of my Master, my hands sliding up his thighs as I pushed myself upward, holding his gaze all the while. He smirked but made no move to touch me.
I arched my back more to push my tits out, daring him to touch me. “Can I please play with my cunt, Master?” I asked with a dramatic pout.
He leaned forward, his hands gripping the leather cushions tightly. “Why don’t you lay on the floor and play with your cunt so we can all watch?” He had an unnerving glint in his eyes that told me I wouldn’t be alone on the floor for long.
I was practically sopping as I stretched out in front of them, my legs spread wide as my fingers found my clit. I arched my back slightly, tilting my head in the process so I could see Ike, he was working on his belt and had his eyes locked on my hand.
I moaned loudly, more for show than anything, and teased my nipples as I worked my clit faster. I could feelthem watching me, it burned my skin and made my pussy get wetter by the second. I started to get closer to the edge and couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, I writhed on the floor and panting as my fluid coated my hand and made it more difficult for me to finish. I needed the friction, I was so close now, I pushed my fingers inside my waiting entrance and gasped out at the sensation when I touched the sweet spot just inside.
My eyes snapped open as I heard the sound of a zipper and felt the vibrations of someone walking towards me. Mr. Harris stood over me, his powerful build was the only thing I could see and the only thing I wanted to see. My heart leapt into my throat as he knelt over me, his knees on either side of my shoulders, his glacial eyes pinning me to the spot. I pulled my hand away from my aching sex and slipped them up his torso, the buttons on his shirt coming undone at my touch.
I’m happy you’re here. I didn’t say it out loud, it wouldn’t be fair to Patrick. Mr. Harris quickly had his magnificent cock out and barely an inch from my lips, he gripped my hair and guided himself into me slowly. I moaned and let my eyes fall shut, my tongue tracing patterns on the underside of his cock.
“I know you can do better than that,” he taunted.
I glared up at him and sucked harder, my cheeks hollowing out. He pushed forward and I tried to pull away, only to realize the floor had me at his mercy. Mr. Harris grinned widely when he saw my eyes widen, pushing his cock further as I struggled to take more of it.
I whimpered as he fucked my face, forcing more into my mouth with every thrust until tears were running into my hair and my nose was buried in his thick pubic hair. I was too busy trying to breathe that I didn’t notice Ike get up, not until his cock was probing my entrance and his fingers digging into my thighs as he forced them further apart.
“She can almost do the splits, and she really likes it when you hold her legs as far apart as possible while fucking her cunt,” my Master told the other man with sadistic pleasure.
I mewled and tried to protest around the cock in my mouth, it just encouraged Mr. Harris and he fucked my face faster. I raked my nails down his abdomen, the hard muscle quivering under my touch. Ike’s cock stroked over my clit, for a brief second I forgot that he was about to brutalize my pussy and all I could think of was how thick and nice he felt against the sensitive nub. He pulled away but his absence was short lives as he bottomed out against me in one thrust and I moaned; my throat contracting and massaging Mr. Harris’ cock.
“What do you think, Lydia - facial or swallow?” he asked, a cruel sneer on his face as stared down at me.
Swallow! I tried to scream it, it didn’t work and only added to his pleasure as he groaned and pulled out. I squeezed my eyes shut as he came on my face, his release mostly covering my mouth and cheeks. I was thankful he didn’t come in my hair this time, though the first had been an accident and he felt so bad about it that he gave me the rest of the day off with pay.
He pushed off me, Ike seized the moment to lean forward, pushing my legs back as he started fucking me harder. I grit my teeth at the pressure, the head of his cock kissing my cervix with each thrust. I dug my nails into the hardwood under me as I tightened around him, the pressure made my eyes roll back, my wetness coated his length and made his motions faster. He was thick, but I could tell that if he didn’t have my legs spread as wide as he did he wouldn’t be nearly as deep. I didn’t care though because he didn’t have to manoeuvre in any way for his cock to rub against my g-spot and bring me closer to my finish.
“Lydia,” Patrick snapped at me. “If you come, I’m going to fuck your ass while they watch.”
How can I stop? Tears of frustration ran down my face and I tried desperately to squirm into a different position, Master O’Connell held firm and growled, pulling me hard to his hips. He hit my g-spot and I couldn’t stop my orgasm if I tried, my back arching off the floor as I grabbed at his forearms, my nails digging in as I screamed out my finish.
They laughed as my body was wracked with tremors and my fluid coated both of us.
“Let’s see, that’s one, can we make it two? Maybe three?” he teased.
He leaned forward and bit my nipple, his teeth holding the sensitive flesh while his tongue flicked over it. It was too much, I was too sensitive there and I was always a goner the minute someone tried to play with my tits. No, no, no, no! I screamed again, my wail weak and strangled as he pushed me over the edge. I was dizzy, tired, sweaty, my face was sticky and didn’t know how much longer I could last under his onslaught. I was dancing on a knifes edge when his movements became more savage, barely pulling out before slamming back in, making stars blossom behind my eyes. With a loud groan, he bottomed out and pressed my knees back on the floor as his come filled my pussy.
He was panting when he pulled out and I felt like a rag doll as I flopped back on the floor, my breathing shaky at best and my heart pounding so loudly I was certain everyone could hear it.
“You look so cute like this, kitten,” Patrick told me. “But I’m keeping my promise.”
I opened my eyes to find him standing over me, his feet on either side of my waist, his cock in hand. Please be gentle with me, Master. I struggled to push myself up and roll over, when it became clear that I didn’t really have the strength to hold myself up and do that he just chuckled and knelt between my legs.
Master ran his slick fingers over my rear entrance, dipping in and probing me with two digits. I whimpered at the intrusion but couldn’t do much else. As his cock slipped in I reached up to hold his wrists, I held him tightly and held my breath until his groin was pressed firmly against me.
“Master,” I mumbled, gazing up at him with watery eyes. “Be gentle, please…”
He braced his hand beside my head as he leaned over me, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he started moving. I ached, the fullness was a throbbing pain, a dull sensation that radiated throughout my lower half. I watched him, the way his face changed into one of concentration as he fought to push into me again and again.
I could sense the other men watching me and I turned my head to see them; Ike was relaxing on the sofa, his now soft cock still on display between his spread legs as he gazed at me with something like a mix of fascination and amusement. I sought out Mr. Harris, he was leaning against the wall his pants hanging low on his hips and emphasizing the V of his groin. He sipped at a glass of what I assumed was scotch, his eyes locked on mine. I wanted his approval more than anything, I already had Patrick’s, but I wanted his.
I released Patrick’s wrists and massaged my tits, teasing my nipples and watching Mr. Harris all the while. I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch and he took another sip to hide his smile. The smile I had been chasing for months now. The one that made me undo a button each time I left his office and came back. I yelped suddenly as my Master sped up, driving his cock harder into me. He let go of my hip and grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the floor as he grunted and pounded my ass.
Reluctantly, I looked up at him, new tears welling up at the pain. His eyes were hard, his expression difficult to read. Master, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I did wrong, but I knew he was mad at me. I laid there and tried to be his good girl; hiding my whimpers and forcing myself to smile at him before I begged him to come in my ass. It pushed him over the edge and he groaned, the guttural sound reverberating through me and making my eyes flutter knowing I made him feel that way.
He pulled out immediately and I winced at the sudden absence of him. I pushed myself up on shaky arms as he did his pants back up, refusing to look at me. He turned to Ike and asked him if he had the client folder with him, I watched the two chat with growing confusion and a sinking heart. Why wasn’t he talking to me? What did I do? My stomach twisted painfully as the two decided to step out of the room.
Ike stroked my hair affectionately as he passed by. “You were lovely, Lydia. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Patrick glanced over at Mr. Harris, addressing him directly, “Can you help get her cleaned up? I’ll be back in a minute.”
I watched them leave and fought the urge to call after him. A stronger flood of tears came and I fought to wipe them away as Mr. Harris helped me off the floor, his arm around my waist and mine around his shoulders as he guided me to the ensuite.
I barely registered him running me a hot bath in the oversized jacuzzi tub, filling it with lavender-scented bubbles and lifting me into it. It was soothing on my screaming muscles, I sunk low in the tub and rested my head back while he worked his fingers through my hair, massaging the shampoo into my scalp.
“Why is he mad at me?” I asked softly, unable to hide my disappointment.
“He’s not mad at you, Lydia, I promise,” Mr. Harris assured.
He is, he hates me. I started to sob, covering my face with my wet hands and trying to sink into the water.
“No, no, sweetheart, it’s alright--”
“It’s not,” I interrupted. “He didn’t stay after, and the way he looked at me—” I broke off, choking on my own sorrow.
“Oh, sweetheart…” He sighed and moved around to sit beside me, stroking my face lightly. “You didn’t do anything wrong; he shouldn’t have left you after that, especially not after what you said downstairs.”
Jon gazed at me, his eyes sad as his thumb stroked over my cheekbone and back again. I moved without thinking, holding his face in my hands as my lips met his. His tongue found mine and he grasped the back of my neck, holding me to him. I needed him, I needed his comfort and warmth more than anything in this world. I needed him as much as I needed Patrick. A moan inadvertently escaped me and he pulled away before running his hand through his hair as he laughed mirthlessly.
“That’s probably why he’s not very happy,” he said tiredly. The sound of the door in the bedroom caught our attention and he stood up, refusing to look at me as he went to greet the other man. “He’ll come help you clean up, I’ll make him.”
I watched him leave and my stomach twisted painfully. I could hear them talking in the other room as I rinsed my hair and it wasn’t long before an emotionless Patrick was standing in the doorway.
“Master,” I whispered, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I did everything you asked, I don’t know what I did wrong—”
“Lydia,” he interrupted sternly. “Do you want Jon involved?”
I wiped away my tears and swallowed hard. “Why wouldn’t I?” I asked finally.
“Because if you loved me, you wouldn’t want to make me jealous.”
I sucked in a sharp breath and looked up at him, my lips parted and my heart skipping a painful beat. “I didn’t try to make you jealous, I never wanted to do that—”
“You always look for his approval, you always do what he tells you the first time, and you looked like a child on Christmas when you realized I was going to let him touch you. You could barely look at me and I was the one inside you.”
I started sobbing, my chest heaving as I wrapped my arms around myself. I never tried to make him jealous, and I did love him – why was he being so cruel? I hid my face as he knelt beside the tub, his hand rubbing my back in slow circles.
“You left me in there,” I choked out. “After what I told you, you just left me there! You never stay, you never take care of me when I need it, no matter how many times I remind you that I need it - you always have to leave me behind.”
“That’s not true—”
“Yes, it is!” I screamed. “I was terrified that you were going to leave me here because that’s what you do! Even at your apartment, you couldn’t be bothered to make sure I was okay after we finished. And now you’re being cruel to me because I looked at Jon!”
Patrick was silent, continuing to rub my back as I cried. When he finally spoke, he sounded remorseful, “I’m sorry, kitten. I should have done more for you, it was selfish of me to ignore your needs.”
“I want to go home,” I said softly. “I want to leave in the morning…”
“I can see if I can charter us something last minute—”
“No,” I snapped at him. “I’ll book my own flight.”
“Kitten,” he whispered, turning me to face him. His eyes were heavy and glistening with unshed tears. “Please, I’m sorry, let me make this up to you.”
“Sorry doesn’t make up for hurting me,” I protested. “Sorry doesn’t change anything!”
We went back and forth for a bit, but eventually, I relented. I didn’t agree to come to stay with him though, I wasn’t ready to be alone with him after that. I felt like I had been gored; completely hollow as he left the bathroom at my request. I knew deep down that his jealously wasn’t completely unfounded, but that didn’t mean it was fair for me to be left alone after a scene like that. Or ever, that was his responsibility; to comfort me, to take care of me afterwards so I wouldn’t feel completely worthless.
It was a long while before I got out of the bath, even longer for me to move from the ensuite to the bedroom. I was stiff, sore, and I was pretty sure my every orifice hated me right now. I crawled onto the silk sheets and laid there as I stared at the ceiling, contemplating what to do. I kissed Jon, outside of a scene, and without Patrick in the room. It was fair to Patrick, especially because I knew his feelings about the other man, but I didn’t regret it.
I pulled out my phone and stared at it for a minute, contemplating making a worse decision, or respecting the man I thought I loved. A shimmer caught my attention and I glanced down at the bracelets secured to my wrists. I wished they weren’t there, especially the collar. Seeing the platinum bands fixed my resolve and I typed out a quick message, watching the bubbles change from delivered to read, then the affirmative response that made me smile weakly. It wasn’t long before there was a knock at my door, quickly I answered it, letting myself welcome him in despite the warning bells in my head.
“I can’t stay too long; I don’t want to risk him coming to visit you later and finding me here.”
I pulled him down for a quick kiss as I dragged him through the door. “Thank you,” I whispered against his lips. “I need you.”
“You know I’ll always be here, sweetheart.”