Brazen Seduction Read online

  After that, he wouldn’t much care how she felt.

  Ginny laughed and took the cloth from him and put it on.

  Good. That’s much better.

  He didn’t have to look into the wrong eyes anymore. He could focus on the hair and believe her to be the one he wanted, the one destined to be his. The one who belonged to him.

  “I’m going to lead you into the bedroom now, Ginny.”

  “All right.”

  “Ah, ah. That’s not the way you’re supposed to play the game. All right, what?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” She giggled again, then cleared her throat. She tried for a dramatic tone, but failed dismally when she said, “All right, Master.”

  “That’s a good girl.” Ginny really was an annoying creature. She needed a good dose of discipline. He led her into his play room slowly, letting her take small steps so she didn’t become unbalanced or fall. He’d discovered that some women became terribly disoriented when blindfolded.

  He looked from the table to the chains dangling from the pulleys attached to the ceiling. He’d start with her upright, then move her to the table later. “I have a special treat for you. I’m going to shackle you.”

  “Oh!” The giggle that followed Ginny’s exclamation of shock grated on his nerves. He decided she needed a good paddling for just that alone. He made quick work of encasing her wrists in the cold steel. “Now just stand still. I’m going to raise your arms for you.”

  He took the few steps over to where chains tied off. Unhooking them from the wall, he pulled on them, a few pulls hand-over-hand. The pulleys, well oiled, worked silently as the chain caressed them, moving across them. Ginny’s arms rose above her head until they stretched straight. He made the metal taut but ensured her feet still rested on the ground.

  “Oh, goodness. This is some bedroom you have here.”

  “I’m very happy with it.”

  Thankfully, Ginny wore a blouse that buttoned down the front and a skirt. He took a moment to prepare himself. He stripped off his own clothes, then set out a condom, tearing open the foil packet. Next he reached for his own personal enhancement. He wasn’t hard yet but he soon would be. He slipped the cock ring into place. Looking at her, he fisted his cock, stroked it roughly, and thought about what he would soon do to his slave.

  How long this time until I come?

  He would use his new fantasy to fuel his personal fires, a new object for his affections. His record so far was just a couple of hours. But tonight? Tonight would be different, he just knew it. Perhaps he would surpass his record of arousal before ejaculation. If he didn’t, well, it would be a simple matter to wait a few minutes and try again.

  He stepped in front of her and began to undo the buttons of her blouse.

  “Um, shouldn’t I have, like, a safe word, or something?”

  “A safe word? No, Ginny, you get no safe word. A safe word is something you would use when you want me to stop. And I don’t plan on stopping until I want to.”

  “That’s not funny.” Ginny tugged on the chains that held her fast. Though her tone sounded angry, the expression on her face and the way she trembled told him she felt frightened.

  Good. He wanted her frightened. As part of the game, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. That’s not funny. How about…freedom? Freedom can be your safe word.”

  “Freedom. Yes, that’s good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Of course, he didn’t intend to stop until he was done. But he wanted her happy again, so he could frighten her again.

  He’d long ago discovered magic existed in that pattern.

  He finished opening all the buttons of her blouse. Separating the front panels, he moved the garment up her arms, then down again, and behind her neck.

  Her bra opened at the front and featured underwire. Shame on her for trying to make herself appear more buxom than she was. Her breasts were nice, not as plump as would be perfect, but they would do. Not generous, but not grapes, either. He took a moment, traced a pattern with one finger across the mounds, avoiding her nipples. She moaned and he wondered how she could ever think that he’d believe that put-on sound, how she could ever think she could fool him.

  Next he reached behind her and opened her skirt, let it drop to the floor. She wore only a g-string beneath it. He walked around her and sighed with pleasure. Here, at last, he found that hint of perfection. The naked globes of her ass looked pale and round, the string of her thong hidden by her crack. Yes, that looked exactly like the ass he’d seen at Reckless Abandon—the ass that belonged to him. Molly’s ass.

  Ginny shivered.

  “Are you cold, Ginny?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll warm you right up.”

  In less than a minute, he chose the items he wanted from among his large collection. He kept his tools close at hand. Reaching out, he let his fingers wrap around the leather handle of the round paddle.

  He always liked to start with the paddle. His slaves could usually endure quite a number of blows from his paddle. It made their asses red, a little swollen, and prepared them well for his belt.

  “Now, let me warm you up.”

  He swung the paddle, landing it hard. Ginny screamed. “Freedom!”

  He smiled. She screamed again. And again. “Freedom! Freedom!”

  “I told you I wouldn’t stop until I was finished. I bet you’re wet for me already.” He reached out and tested his theory with two fingers shoved deep. The woman moaned through her tears and he laughed.

  “Just as I thought. You have a lovely scream, just like a song. I want to hear it some more.” He swung the paddle, hard and fast, and listened to the music Ginny made.

  * * * *

  Richard leaned his forehead against Molly’s and fought for breath. Did he know that when he finally took her she would do this to him? Did he suspect that he would lose control inside her, that his orgasm would be wrapped in a sense of homecoming and belonging?

  The sensation of Alan’s head leaning on his shoulder and the feeling of Molly’s pussy convulsing in tiny aftershocks around his cock combined to nurture a sense of wholeness inside him. For the first time ever, he felt complete.

  “My God.” He slowly straightened, blinking in the suddenly too-bright lights. But he wouldn’t hide from this, from the emotions ricocheting around inside him. He’d deal with them. He might feel as if he needed to pull back, but that was his problem. He wouldn’t for one moment let his lovers think he was dissatisfied with them. With one hand he caressed Molly’s face, and the other, Alan’s.

  “That’s the hottest sex I’ve ever had,” Alan whispered.

  “No words,” Molly agreed.

  “Let’s have a nice hot shower, then move this party to the bed.”

  He actually thought that they’d all just cuddle close together tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough to explore Molly’s horizons more thoroughly and to indulge Alan’s wonderful, prurient fantasies. Tonight he wanted to relish the sensation of having two lovers with him under the spray of his shower and then under the warmth of the blankets of his bed.

  He chuckled when Molly leaned against him as the water coated them and filled the enclosure with steam. He easily supported and bathed her at the same time.

  “I should probably be taking care of you,” Molly said around a yawn, “considering the role I’ve chosen to assume.”

  Richard locked gazes with Alan and knew the other man felt as protective of their new addition as he did. Molly may have thought she prepared herself for this lifestyle, but he and Alan already knew she hadn’t reckoned on the caring.

  “Another time, Molly. Tonight we’ll take care of you.”

  “All right. As long as you’ll let me do my part.”

  “I think you can pretty well count on that.”

  She felt like hot silk under his hands. The soap, a gentle combination of lavender and lemon, was m
ade by a friend who fancied herself a dabbler in aromatherapy. Both oils aided in relaxation. He’d credit the combination a hit, except he suspected Molly’s exhaustion came more from this evening’s events.

  Richard took extra care with her, needing to be as gentle now as he was firm earlier. When his soap-covered hands caressed her ass, he thought it felt warmer than could be attributed to the heat of the water, and certainly warmer than the rest of her body. Looking down, he could see her skin there still held a deep pink hue.

  “Ass still sore?” he asked her.

  “Hardly at all,” she said. As if the reminder of her paddling awakened her, she straightened, supporting her own weight. “I liked it. When you spanked me it nearly made me come. I didn’t expect that.”

  Richard chuckled. “I know. Here I thought I would turn you off the lifestyle—and me—and I ended up doing the exact opposite.”

  “You’re not going to try to turn me off anymore, are you? Or turn me away?” The seriousness in her expression deserved as serious a response.

  “No. I’ve had you now. You’re mine.”

  Alan’s hands cleansed him, and when he put his chin on Richard’s shoulder, Richard corrected himself. “I should have said you’re ours. And we hope you don’t think this is a one night stand, or a casual fling. Alan and I don’t do casual anymore.”

  “But you did?” Molly asked.

  “We’ve shared a woman before,” Alan said. “To see if we liked it. If it would be something we’d want to do on a permanent basis sometime in the future. And we agreed that it was, provided we could find the right woman.”

  “I’ve wanted you since I met you,” Molly said to Alan. “The two of you are the only men to ever get me hot.”

  “Good.” Richard couldn’t deny Molly’s confession, given completely without guile, not only stroked his ego but his sex. “Let’s dry off and get horizontal.”

  * * * *

  Molly had never been as sated nor felt as cherished. After they’d dried her, Richard and Alan gave her the most relaxing massage she’d ever experienced, using some sort of lotion that smelled like flowers.

  Their hands caressed and soothed, while at the same time subtly arousing her. Then they’d tucked her in between them. Richard pulled her into his arms, arranging her so her head nestled on his shoulder and her right leg bent over top of both of his. Alan snuggled up to her back, nestling his semi-hard cock against the crack of her butt.

  She thought the shower was only an intermission and she eagerly awaited act two. Well, maybe not as eager as she’d been earlier. She felt a bit tired. It had been an emotionally exhausting day. Hours spent, first waiting for the evening to come, then getting ready, and then the auction itself. That horrible minute when she thought that, despite having paid the top price, Richard would walk away from her.

  And finally, the joy of feeling him inside her, after so many years of imagining. Feeling so many emotions in one short day exhausted her.

  “Go to sleep, Molly, while you can. One or both of us may wake up in the middle of the night and decide it’s time to fuck your brains out.”

  As a threat, Richard’s words didn’t frighten her in the least.

  “Okay.” Both men chuckled when the single word emerged around a yawn. Molly didn’t mind providing them with a laugh now and again. As she felt herself drifting toward sleep, the image of that other man who’d bid on her—Bacchus—appeared front and center in her mind.

  He’d given her the willies, no doubt about it. His stare held such intensity. Despite the fact he wore weird colored contacts, she felt his gaze rake her. Did he look at her with familiarity, recognition?

  No, that was silly. Likely just the strangeness of his mask and the words he’d said later gave her that impression. They called him Bacchus, but he seemed more like Satan. Molly pushed the strange thought from her head. She didn’t have to worry about him as she’d likely never see him again. If she did, it would be at the club with Richard, and Richard would keep her safe.

  She awoke gradually some time later, rested and restless. Richard rolled her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then pinched and pulled it. Behind her, Alan’s hands caressed her bottom, his fingers running up and down the crack, then pressed against the tight bud of her anus.

  “Mmm.” Molly’s arousal came to life, a tiny ember that both men coaxed with gentle touches and kisses. Richard shifted her slightly and stroked her pussy. Still on her side, she could feel Alan’s cock brush against her ass.

  He moved away from her for just a brief moment. When he came close again, he whispered, “Something cold” just before he touched her anus with a chilled, silky something. She shivered and not only because of the lubricant.

  “We need to stretch you before you can take our cocks there, sweetheart,” Richard said. He caressed back and forth across her slit, dipping in to get some of her moisture, spreading it around her clit.

  Heat curled inside her, urged her to move, to try and capture them, take them both deep.

  Richard laughed softly. “You want more?”

  “Yes, I want more.”

  He speared two fingers into her, separating them and caressing her, in and out. Molly pushed against them, moving her hips back and forth to help increase the friction and the pleasure.

  Alan gripped her hip with one hand as he pressed a finger against her anus.

  She inhaled through her teeth, the slight burning sensation taking her by surprise.

  “There’s a lubricant available that would not only ease the passage, but numb a little as well. Haven’t tried it,” Richard whispered.

  “Don’t want to.” Alan said. “The slight pain enhances the pleasure.”

  Molly found she agreed. The burning seemed to reach out to the fingers inside her cunt and electrify them.

  Alan leaned forward and tongued her ear, sending another shiver down her spine. And then his finger sank into her.

  Richard seemed to know the moment Alan breached her back entrance. His breathing hitched. He leaned down and brushed a light kiss against Molly’s lips.

  “Let’s see if we can feel each other,” he whispered. He pressed up and back while Alan slid his finger in and forward.

  Molly could have sworn that the men’s fingers actually touched through her. The twin sensations sent her over the edge into a free fall of rapture.

  Chapter 6

  The twin tempting scents of bacon and coffee teased her senses. Molly sniffed, eyes still closed. Then she sniffed again, this time taking in a deep draught of air as she crested the surface of wakefulness. No mistaking it. Bacon. Coffee. During her sleep she must have been kidnapped by aliens and dragged into an alternate reality.

  Then the activities of the night before spoke via their translator—a dull ache between her thighs—to remind her she was alive and well and living in her own reality, which just happened to be her best fantasy come to life.

  She wondered which one of the men was the cook in the family, and blessed her good fortune that they wouldn’t automatically expect her to be all female on the domestic front.

  The way she figured it, yowza between the sheets trumped talent with a spatula. If the reaction of the men in the middle of the night could be anything to go by, yowza she had.

  Molly reached up to rub the rest of the sleep out of her eyes but halted before her fingers could make matters worse. It wasn’t sleep that clogged her peepers, but mascara, not removed properly the night before. Tossing the covers aside, she headed for the shower.

  The clear glass enclosing the shower stall became opaque with steam. Molly made quick work of the task, emerging only minutes after having turned on the water. A fast snoop through drawers netted her some cotton pads and baby oil. Not the best tools for removing eye makeup, but, under the circumstances, it would have to do.

  Alan came into the bathroom carrying a white shirt.

  “It’s Richard’s,” he said. Then he laughed. “We didn’t allow you so much as a toot
h brush last night, did we?”

  Molly grinned back. “That’s all right. I’m pleased with how things worked out.”

  “Breakfast is nearly ready,” Alan said. “Richard says come and eat. You’re going to need to keep up your strength.”

  Richard made breakfast and very nicely. She liked her bacon so crispy it melted in her mouth. Apparently, so did her lovers.

  “Is there anyone who needs to know where you are?” Richard asked.

  “No. I don’t call my mother every day.”

  “All right. We’ll go over to your apartment tomorrow so you can grab a few clothes. I want you to stay here at least until the end of the week.”

  “Still planning to get rid of me?” Even thinking for one moment that he might be gave her a sharp pain in the vicinity of her heart. Everything she’d experienced last night not only turned her on more than anything ever had, it felt right.

  Her instincts told her she belonged here with these men.

  “No, but I’m not holding you to anything. This is your first ménage experience and your first taste of the Dom/sub lifestyle. It may tantalize for a time, but how do you know this is something you’d like to participate in for the long haul?”

  Molly cocked her head to one side. “You don’t have much faith in me.”

  “Sweetheart, it’s not a question of faith,” Richard said. “You don’t know if you like something until you’ve taken a good taste of it. So far, you’ve only sipped at it. Once you get a mouthful, you may find you don’t care for it at all.”

  “Seems to me I did have a mouthful last night,” she said. Molly slid a sideways glance at Alan, who simply sat, chin on his hand, and watched her and Richard—more or less how a spectator at a tennis match might watch the action between two players.

  She didn’t get the sense that his master told him to remain silent. More, it seemed as if he chose not to speak.