Never Alone

"But I caaaan't."

Again and again the flogger contacts her blistering cheeks. She can't stay still. She can't stop the sensation that is racking her body.

"Not yet." But her body disobeys. Never has an orgasm been so powerful. When she finally floats down from the most intense experience ever she has one thought:

I'm really in trouble now.

CHAPTER 8: Putting On A Show

"You didn't have permission to cum, my dear."

"I'm sorry. I..." He places his finger on her lips and hushes her.

"I thought you might not be able to handle it so I have something prepared." They lift her off the contraption and free her wrists, but leave the butt plug, clamps, and blindfold in place. He instructs her to step into a skirt that she cannot see, but she can feel that it hardly covers her behind. When he tugs on the leash, she follows immediately.

Eventually she senses that they've entered a larger room. He reels the leash in until she stands beside him and he places his hand on her back. After leading her in this manner, he instructs her to lean forward. A rounded leather object meets her stomach and the chain between her breasts swings freely on the opposite side.

"Stay put and do as I say," he whispers in her ear as he leans over her. She can feel his contained erection against her backside for a moment, and then it's gone. He speaks louder now, but he's farther away from her. "Lift your skirt and show us the plug filling your ass." Embarrassment eats at her, but she complies.

"Now twist it... slide it out... push it all the way back in... again... faster..." She swallows back tears, now more embarrassed than ever especially because the arousal is returning. "Take it out and drop it on the floor."

"Flip that skirt back up and spread yourself wide." She hesitates.

Did he really just ask me to do that?

"We're waiting... Now hold that position." The bite of the small crop between her cheeks causes her to bring them into a less vulnerable position, but the sting of it on her hand reminds her to correct it. "Hands and legs wider. Don't make me get the spreader bar." It stings again, just below her puckered hole. She is distracted from the occasional swat of it though when she hears unzipping in front of her.

"Open up," Jase says as he flicks the clamp chain to make it swing and tug on her breasts. She senses someone behind her.

"Put your hands on either side of you and brace yourself," her master instructs, but his voice sounds as if it's coming from her right, not behind her. As soon as she obeys, her stretched hole is assaulted by an average-sized member. Rough hands grasp her hips. Unfamiliar hands.

The two men, neither of which are her master who she's learned to trust, slam into her repeatedly. She feels a building pressure but it is not the same as usual. She needs his touch. Eventually they both spill their seed inside her and all three of them are panting. Another plug, smaller than the previous, is forced back in.

Arms appear in the pits of her own and ease her into a chair behind her, which is then spun one hundred eighty degrees. Her knees are forced wide and her ankles are strapped to each leg of the chair. A bar is attached just above her knees, keeping them painfully far apart and fully exposing her private area to anyone who wishes to see.

"Touch yourself." Her master's voice is almost a whisper, smooth and sensual. She hesitantly slides her hand down between her wide open thighs. He begins to coach her quietly from behind her shoulder in that voice which makes her melt. He tells her to run her hand through the wetness and trail it up her stomach.

"Pull on the chain... harder... now slip one finger inside yourself slowly. Out... in... out... two fingers. Move them around inside of you... Put them in your mouth." When she pauses, the other thing inside her buzzes and shocks her.

"Fuck your mouth... faster." He removes the nipple clamps and she sighs in relief. "Play with them."

While she rubs the soreness away, he reaches from behind her and pushes three fingers into her aching opening. She moans with pleasure. He shoves them into her over and over again until she starts to plead quietly.

"You finish." His words make her muscles clench around his fingers. When he removes them, she replaces them with her own. She is so close and he knows it. His breath tickles her ear.

"Are you about to cum?"

"Yes," she pants.

"Full sentence and loudly."

"Yes I'm about to cum."

"Ask for permission."

"Please may I?" she moans.

"Address me as your master and ask for permission to cum. Louder."

"Please, Master, may I cum?" She is breathless and her hands have slowed so as not to cum without permission. The thing inside her buzzes and shocks multiple times.

"Don't slow down. Faster." Buzz, shock. "Faster... Now ask me one more time, even louder."

"Please, Master, may I cum?!" With that, her blindfold disappears.

"Yes," he whispers as a sea of faces comes into view. She is mortified as she explodes in front of an audience, the orgasm rocking her body and making her moan. His hands plunder her body, massaging her breasts and releasing uncontrollable moans.

But embarrassment is overshadowed by the pleasure consuming her body.

CHAPTER 9: Summer

"Don't touch me." Greta raises her head from the pillow soaked in her tears for only a moment before burying it again. He touches her shoulder gently, but she shrugs it off.

"You performed wonderfully."

"Leave. Me. Alone."

"I've seen into the deepest corners of your mind. Your fears, your needs, your desires. Even the things you don't want to acknowledge." Greta has stopped crying but her puffy, red face stays hidden. "I want to fulfill those fantasies, to push your limits."

"I've never had those kinds of fantasies! That was humiliating!"

"Hush, my dear. Maybe that exhibitionist is hidden deeper inside than I thought. If I tell you I'm sorry, will you let me see that beautiful face?"

"Why are you apologizing? This isn't the first time you've made me do something I didn't want to do."

"Wrong. I've never made you do something you didn't want to do. You wanted to do that too. Don't try to tell me you didn't enjoy yourself."

"But I... you..." She realizes she has no argument and throws the pillow at him in frustration. As soon as it leaves her fingers, she freezes. What have I done?

Before she can react, he pins her to the bed, straddling her legs and catching a wrist in each hand. Besides the motion of her heaving chest, she doesn't move, doesn't resist. His face is unreadable. She wishes she could just melt into the mattress below.

"I... I'm... s...sorry."

"I could make you very sorry." His tone is ominous and shivers crawl up her spine. She is sure she's about to feel his wrath until he smiles. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood after your performance. You're also lucky I don't like to share." Her confusion prompts him to continue. "The prices they were offering for a night with you were outrageous."

"That's sick." Her attempt at freeing herself is futile. He doesn't budge, only starts grinning wider.

"Don't you know what you do to me when you struggle like that?" His kiss is brief and he pulls her lower lip into his mouth, biting down gently with his teeth. "I have a gift for you." His improved mood is disarming, but she doesn't let her guard down as he dismounts and walks toward the bedroom door.

"This fantasy was much more accessible than the other." Greta is speechless, furiously searching her mind for clues as to what he has planned. Work has been consuming her life. She doesn't have time to watch or read anything to inspire these fancies.

Her jaw visibly drops after he opens the door and a woman struts into the room. Greta struggles to form a coherent sentence. "I'm not a... I think you got it wrong again. I don't... I like men."

"Relax, Greta. Summer's going to help you do just that." The corset and skintight skirt aren't exactly the uniform of a masseuse. Greta isn't fooled; she knows exactly what the curvy brunette is there for.

"And you're going to get off watching it?" Her tone is accusatory, but he only smiles.

"Don't make me gag you. This can be very pleasant for you or I'll enjoy it just as much if she punishes you instead. Now stand up." Greta obeys, knowing this is not a good battle to fight.

Summer begins undressing her painstakingly slowly while he makes himself comfortable in a chair across the room. Greta steals a glance in his direction when she is down to only her undergarments. She is unsure whether the shudder is from his savage stare or the draft in the room.

Her breasts bound free as her bra drops to the ground and Summer's hands are on them instantly. She caresses them gently as she lowers herself onto her knees, then slides her grasp to Greta's hips. The new girl's teeth close on the panties of the less experienced one.

Greta soon stands completely naked in front of the stranger who has been mute until now when she whispers, "My turn."

She turns, giving Greta access to the laces holding her corset together. The knots come undone easily, revealing naturally tan skin devoid of imperfections. When the two are facing each other again, Greta can't help but admire the beauty standing before her. Her long, thick hair cascades over her shoulders, covering her breasts, but perfect nipples peak though the brown veil when she moves.

"Keep going," she coaxes and Greta does willingly, mesmerized. After the skirt joins the rest of the clothes on the ground, the redhead hooks her thumbs into the brunette's thong. The darker hands cover the creamy ones, stopping their progress.

"Like I did." Greta kneels, copying her new mentor and repeats the same action. "Lay on the bed." Greta notices the audience she had forgotten about as she follows the instruction.

"Ignore him," she says before taking Greta's chin and crushing their lips together. Never had Greta kissed another woman. She moves to the bed in a trance. Summer pushes her legs apart and crawls up between them. Her mouth begins on Greta's neck and makes a slow and winding trek down to each breast, tickling her stomach, covering the space between her hips with feathery kisses. The full, pouty lips caress her inner thighs before moving to the apex.

A woman's mouth is a whole new sensation between her legs. No stubble. Softer lips. A knowledge of what feels good that no man can ever possess. Summer's tongue is experienced and powerful, not teasing like Liam's. Greta wants to protest when the glorious mouth moves away, but it soon reaches her own.

The taste of her own juices slips onto her lips. The skilled tongue invades her mouth while their naked physiques press against each other. Her body is ravaged by hands putting on a show for the lone spectator. Summer flicks her hair over one shoulder to give him a better view of the passionate kiss.

The chair squeaks as its occupant rises. Greta is startled when he takes hold of her ankles and pulls both girls nearer the edge of the bed. Summer continues her fervent kisses, unfazed. When he gives her behind a playful slap, she crawls away from him, positioning herself above Greta's face. Greta gasps into the steamy snatch hovering above her when Liam impales her in one swift motion.

"Use your mouth, Greta," he whispers, his voice gruff with need. He is almost shaking with want as he watches the expression of pleasure grow on Summer's face. He can take it no longer, having viewed the girls for so long. His self-control departs and he drills into her over and over again in quick, purposeful movements.

As she's been trained, Greta explodes when he does and not a moment before. He pulls out of her and leans forward, embracing Summer and plunging multiple fingers inside her to finish the job Greta started. Their mouths devour each other's as Greta watches uncomfortably, still straddled by the new girl. A pang of jealousy hits her, but she brushes it away.

Absolutely ridiculous.

Summer cums with a whimper and they kiss once more, gently, sweetly. She rolls over to give Greta the same before dressing and leaving without another word. Liam collapses next to Greta, both of them looking up to the ceiling and regaining a normal breathing pattern.

"Join me for a shower so we can go to bed. It's been a long evening." Greta can tell he's tired. She is too. They say very little, but he smiles as he soaps up her body.

Maybe the good mood hasn't disappeared after all.

CHAPTER 10: The Garden

Greta wakes alone in the large bed to loud sounds she eventually associates with sex in the adjacent bedroom. She instinctively knows it's Summer and Liam. That means he's distracted.

Her half-nakedness doesn't faze her as she scrambles out of bed. The revealing nightgown will have to do, that is if the door is even unlocked. If the couple wasn't so boisterous they might be able to hear Greta's heart beating as she turns the knob. Too good to be true.

She slips out into the hallway expecting to see a guard patrolling the corridor or one of the goons who kidnapped her, but the only noise comes from the slightly ajar door only feet away. She peers in to check that neither of them are facing her.

Summer is on all fours near the edge of the bed, moaning like an animal. Liam has her beautiful brown locks in his hand, tugging her head back like reins of a horse as he pounds into her with enough force to rock the entire bed. The banging of the headboard is accentuated by relentless spanks that intensify Summer's moans of pleasure. Greta tears herself away from incomprehensible scene to scamper quietly down the hall.

She's enjoying herself. She loves it.

She didn't have much luck with the front door last time so she rethinks her strategy. Avoiding maids and kitchen workers isn't overly difficult since it's so early in the morning and Greta quickly weaves her way through the mansion looking for a back door or an accessible window.

Sweat is beading on her forehead not because of heat or fatigue, but nervousness. Every noise makes her jump and threatens to stop her heart. When she finally stumbles on a window that actually opens and isn't multiple stories tall, she fumbles with the lock. Her hands shake and slip, making the simple task excruciatingly hard. When did I become such a wimp?

The cool breeze feels like heaven. She has to swallow back panic when she sees that the drop is higher than she expected despite being on the first floor. She's come too far to back out now though. Her knuckles turn white from her death grip on the windowsill as she lowers herself into a hanging position against the brick wall.

The distance to the ground isn't going to decrease any more so she lets herself drop into a less than graceful landing. Testing her legs provides promising results. Her wrist aches, but that's not important now. Her unharmed limbs carry her away from the house, but she immediately sees a fence through the tree-filled back yard.

Thin vertical poles are attached by a crossbar out of her reach. Squeezing through the gaps is impossible, but she tries anyway for lack of a better immediate option. The prison wall extends far in either direction. She glances back at the house and sees no pursuers yet. The trees give some cover, at least from anyone glancing out the window. The trees...

Greta arbitrarily picks a direction and takes off along the fence looking for a tree that's close enough to help her over the top. She finds it strange as more time passes that no one's come looking for her. The fence turns back toward the house and she has little choice but to follow it even though the trees are thinning.

A large deck with a stone staircase leading down to a garden with decorative bushes comes into view. Greta doesn't see anyone but she'll be completely visible to people looking out the windows on that side of the house. Nothing in the garden – not the bushes, fountains, or flowers – are tall enough or close enough to conceal her.

She approaches slowly, to avoid attracting attention. A row of tall hedges line the far side of the garden and she chooses those as her destination. Although they stand perpendicular to the mansion, they are thick enough that she might be able to stand on the end of them and be hidden from the windows. The top of a gazebo peaks above them but everywhere she looks is still eerily empty so she hopes the same will be said for it.

She slumps down at the foot of the bushes, eyes darting to check for movement in the garden or porch. The feeling of being watched is strong, making the hair on the back of her neck stand at attention. She is not alone.

"Come join me for tea, my pet." The voice... his voice says from the direction of the gazebo. She scurries to the opposite side of the hedge, revealing herself to any onlookers indoors, but putting the hedge between her and the voice. He has to be talking to someone else. Greta hasn't gone on that side of the hedge yet and has only caught a glance of the gazebo, which is surrounded by a thick, vine-filled trellis anyway.

"That means you, Greta. Get over here now before you get in more trouble. There's no way out and you won't like it if I have to send people out here to round you up." She freezes, unable to lift herself from the ground. Maybe he's bluffing.

"I told you I don't like to share, but perhaps I'll let whoever catches you keep you for a while. How's that sound? I'm sure I'll have plenty of enthusiastic takers."

She is torn. This is the closest she's been to escaping, but she certainly doesn't want to find out what other men might have planned for her. Regretfully, she rounds the bushes as slowly as possible.

"Kneel," he instructs as soon as she reaches the concrete floor of the gazebo.

"I'm sorry. I..."

"Kneel." His voice is terrifyingly firm and she drops to the ground immediately.

"Good choice. Don't speak until I give you permission." He continues his snack at the table until Greta starts to squirm uncomfortably.

"Tired of kneeling?" She nods her head hesitantly. "Then crawl to me." He scoots his chair away from the table and pats his empty lap so Greta understands his intentions. She gingerly makes her way over to him, the concrete hurting her already sore knees. He pats his lap again when she doesn't mount it right away.

"Please don't..."

"I don't remember giving you permission to speak. Would you like to continue kneeling or would you like to get this over with?" She bites her lip and drapes herself over his thighs obediently. Her nightgown hardly covers her behind anyway and he disconnects her panties in one swift tug.

The spanking is loud because of skin striking skin, but not all that painful. Embarrassment causes her more discomfort receiving this punishment in such a public setting. She doesn't cry though, doesn't call out, but when she hears footsteps approaching, she tries to sit up and cover her nakedness. He pins her with a strong arm against her back and slaps away the hand trying to shield herself.

"Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving," Summer says softly.

"Can you stay a little longer? I have a favor to ask," Liam responds while he absentmindedly rubs the red marks he's created.

"Of course. Anything for you."

"Go get a paddle. Your choice. Greta's misbehaved and this spanking doesn't seem to be doing the trick. She's much too quiet."

"Yes sir."

"I told you yesterday I'd enjoy watching her punish you. You've been so well-behaved I didn't think I'd get the chance, but I guess the temptation of your unlocked bedroom was just too great."

Summer returns shortly with a paddle full of heart-shaped holes. They share a knowing grin that sends shivers up Greta's spine. Liam instructs Greta to climb onto the table and he unbuckles his belt while she gets into position. His member springs free at eye level in Greta's kneeling position on all fours.