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Quatre was going to die.
A lot.
Painfully.
Dorothy squirmed a little, testing the strength of the bonds on her wrists and sighed. She knew better than to even try; after all, he was a former Gundam pilot and if he wanted someone subdued, they weren't going to get out of it. She knew that she had agreed when he asked to play a game; every now and again, her husband felt the need to be aggressive and would come to her rather than fucking his harem boy, as she loved to call Trowa.
He'd never asked to tie her up before, though. In fact, it wasn't until he'd bent her over the narrow table (which he'd been thoughtful enough to place a pillow on first) and bound her arms behind her and her ankles to the legs with silk scarves that she even realized how strong he'd gotten. Normally he would come to her, wanting the usual: a little foreplay, followed by very satisfying sex, sometimes even staying the night with her.
She never minded that he wasn't entirely devoted to her; they had agreed that each of them were "allowed" to retain their previous lovers from before their marriage and neither complained. However, with the recent loss of her long-time boy toy, she had become increasingly sexually frustrated, which was very probably the reason she had even agreed to play her husband's "game". She knew that he wouldn't get violent or hurt her any more than she could stand; after all, she certainly enjoyed it when he would get a little rough.
But now there was someone else in the room with them and she couldn't see who it was. And worse, she was positioned and restrained like a wanton S&M fucktoy, naked and completely exposed. She glared at Quatre who merely gave her an odd, self-satisfied smile in return, seating himself on the couch in front of her. He had a perfect view of everything and she watched with a strange amount of curiosity as he made himself comfortable and opened his robe, exposing his naked body to both her and whoever had taken a position a few feet behind her.
As irritated as she was and confused by her husband's actions, she couldn't help but become somewhat aroused at the sight of his pale exposed skin and stirring erection. If there was one thing that always could make Dorothy Catalonia-Winner happy, it was sex, and lots of it. The fact that her husband was definitely enjoying whatever he'd set up had piqued her interest. She'd never expected him to be a voyeur, nor herself any sort of exhibitionist…at least not on the receiving end of things. She had a feeling she would have enjoyed being watched if she was the one in control.
But she wasn't.
This time Quatre was and he seemed to have planned the entire game out well in advance. Definitely interesting. She hadn't expected him to be such a sneaky little shit. In her own way, she was actually proud of him for it and writhed slightly again, this time in anticipation, rather than irritation.
Her eyes became lidded when a man's firm chest slid behind her across her exposed ass, erect nipples lingering on her cooling skin. At least he was strong and… ooh…strong hands, too. Rough, calloused and tapered…the way that they began to stroke over the flanks of her thighs and up the back, rubbing his thumbs up toward her sex. Very nice, indeed.
Warm, moist breath swirled across her lower back before the playful tickle of hair brushed slightly higher, followed by a nudge of a nose, then the tip of a tongue darting out against her skin. She bit back a chuckle and wiggled a bit, trying to make her mystery lover give more of himself away. She had been fairly certain of who it was at first, but there was also the knowledge that her husband absolutely wouldn't be willing to share his solemn clown with her, so she was at a loss. Perhaps it was one of those men that had followed him in the war; the men that had taken it upon themselves to begin guarding her as well, once she had become Quatre's wife. She had to admit that they weren't all strapping young things, but there had been a few she hadn't minded perusing with her eyes at least.
The large hands at her back stilled her squirming by holding onto the backs of her thighs and squeezing just enough to let her know that he wasn't going to play the game and she would have to be patient. She pouted for a moment, but it was gone abruptly when a set of wet, languorous kisses trailed across the top of her buttocks and began moving lower, while the sensuous touch of the rough hands traveled higher. She let out a throaty moan, arching her throat and glancing at Quatre through her lashes. He smiled again, drawing in a breath as she exposed her breasts to him; that was one thing that he'd always loved…he was fascinated by them and at first, he would spend great lengths of time testing, fondling and lavishing all sorts of erotic attentions on them. Now, he merely knew what turned her on and enjoyed employing every trick he had discovered.
The thought sent a surge of heat through her body as she imagined the way he would cup her breasts in his hands, placing kisses and little nips all along the flesh, drawing nipples into his mouth, suckling and licking… At that moment, her mystery lover chose to lean in close and flickered a wet tongue across her opening, thumbs prying her lips apart to give the questing muscle better access. She instinctively tried shooting forward and found herself stopped abruptly by her bindings. Her breasts jiggled against the force of her movements and she heard Quatre chuckle, his hand sliding down his stomach toward his erection.
"I just love it when you do that, Dorothy," he purred to her, stretching languorously. "I love watching you like this…you're very beautiful when you're aroused."
Another flood of heat poured over her as he spoke, followed by another pass of her new lover's tongue. She found herself moaning quietly, closing her eyes completely as she surrendered to the ministrations from behind her. At that point, she didn't care who it was, only that he was just as good at cunnilingus as her husband, if not a little more polished at the art. She could feel the pressure alternating; starting rough and intense until she was squirming and panting like an animal in heat and she was nearly screaming. Then, he would abruptly stop, letting her cry out in frustration for a moment before returning with the lightest of passes over her sensitive flesh. It only took seconds to drive her to a fever pitch and she found herself pleading without realizing she was doing it, until she heard Quatre laughing softly and clapping.
Her eyes flew open, her cheeks flushed with arousal and rage, glaring at him as he practically bounced on the divan, his eyes bright with amusement. He wasn't touching himself; rather he was denying himself any sort of stimulus for the time being, apparently finding the whole situation well worth the anger directed at him. "You sound so sweet when you beg," he teased lightly. "Please…don't stop…mmmm…very sexy."
"I'd rather make you beg," she hissed, squirming again.
"Maybe later," he promised, ignoring her irritation. "But in the meantime…you have no idea how fascinating this is…maybe I should use a camera and let you watch yourself? I'd certainly like a recording of watching my wife acting like a slut with someone she doesn't even know."
"Bastard!" she snapped, struggling harder, making her breasts jiggle all the more, which brought a low murmur of appreciation out of his throat again. "When I get out of this, I'm going to kill you…"
"If you can walk when we're done with you," he placated in a tone reserved for small children. "But until then, why don't you just let yourself enjoy it? You know that you want to. You can't lie to me, Dorothy…I know when you get so hot you can't stand it."
"I can stand…ooooh…" She stopped her verbal retaliation when she realized that the man behind her was parting her cheeks now, carefully laving the area around her anus. She'd never had that done before and it was curiously ticklish and arousing at once. She began forcing herself to relax so that it wouldn't tickle so much, cautiously thrusting her ass back toward him. A low chuckle sounded across her skin and she realized the sound was vaguely familiar, but not someone she heard on a regular basis as far as she could tell.
"Hmmm…she likes that, does she?" Quatre became very interested in the situation all over again. "I never thought about that before. Is she cherry, do you think?"
She noticed he was watching for nonverbal communication and laughed, throwing his head back in delight. "Oh, I'm sure she could take you…it's the without pain thing that may be a problem." After a moment, he grinned and nodded. "Yes, I suppose that honor would belong to whom she belongs. The problem is, there are times she seems to forget that little bit of detail."
Dorothy was about to comment on that little remark, her cheeks flushing with anger again. Who she belonged to?! What sort of delusional zero-system flashbacks was he having?! However, before she could say anything, a pair of fingers wormed their way into her mouth, rubbing against her tongue in silent orders to coat them. Irritated but still curious, she sucked in the digits, letting her tormentor know just how well she could use that mouth.
Strangely, that was one thing Quatre had never asked of her. He refused to put his dick in her mouth and would always stop before ejaculating if he were anywhere near her face, particularly when she would oil her breasts and have him straddle her torso, thrusting between the made cavern of her tits. There was always something about the way his balls would brush against her skin and how she could look up at him, staring down enraptured when the head of his cock would peek out of the pale cleavage while he thrust deep. She had always wanted, just once, for him to do it, if for no other reason than to force him to admit that she could make him lose his control and would forget himself and his proper manners.
When she'd mentioned it the last time while talking with Hilde, the German woman blushed and laughed, then chided her that because she married a gentleman, a gentleman was what she should expect. She actually began to wonder if perhaps her husband had found out somehow that she was craving something that he normally wouldn't agree to. Either way, she had to admit this whole situation was wonderful, if not surreal and a little disconcerting.
Still demonstrating her oral skills, she felt her lover lean forward behind her, brushing an intensely hot erection against her chill skin. She closed her eyes and sucked harder, squirming back against the lightly thrusting abdomen behind her. The fingers were soon gone and while she wanted to outright pout, she was distracted by the saliva-slicked fingers attacking her right nipple viscously, rubbing and tugging at the kernel of hard flesh. A particularly lucky fondle that forced a wanton cry from her throat as she thrust her ass back hard, demanding some sort of release. The hand was joined by its partner on her other breast, squeezing hard as the body behind her fought for control of itself. Damn…if she'd just tilted her hips up just a little, she could have had a good chance of forcing him into her…
Quatre laughed again and Dorothy's eyes flew open, glaring accusingly at her husband. "Oh yes…I think she needs a good solid punishment for what she's done." His aqua eyes lit up considerably at his conspirator's silent communications and he nodded vigorously. "I'd love that!"
Before Dorothy could register that little comment, she felt the man move away from her and the now-familiar roughened palm made contact with her backside with a sharp, resounding crack. Her eyes grew impossibly wide in pure indignation and she jolted forward, trying to get away from the inevitable sting that would follow. The burning had just begun when his hand stuck another blow, slightly lower than the last and just as hard.
Her mouth dropped open and she fought the urge to cry out, escaping the indignity with a slight choked whimper. It was barely audible, but it was enough to turn her face red with embarrassment. She couldn't believe that she almost began to cry like a girl over a simple spanking! The indignity alone brought bitter tears stabbing at the back of her eyes. It was even worse that Quatre was bouncing slightly, looking decidedly childish as his hands clapped together lightly.
"Count!" he demanded in a playful tone that belied his usual serious baritone. "You know how to do it, Dorothy; you made Garrett do it and I'm sure you remember how."
That did it. She glared outright at him and clamped her mouth shut out of spite. She couldn't believe that he would actually expect her to do something so humiliating. The game was one thing, and she was letting him get away with the binding and the teasing from a completely unknown entity…the spanking was really pushing it, and there was no way in nine rings of Hell that she was going to fucking count for his pleasure!
The next blow came harder than the last two, right on the sensitive crease of flesh where the top of her thigh met her buttocks, near the inside. She didn't care; it hurt! Her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she fought tooth and nail to keep her mouth from falling open as she forced her throat to remain closed to making noise. Tears were starting to well up in the very bottom of her eyes but she refused to acknowledge them at all; blinking would only set them loose down her cheeks and she refused to cry.
Quatre sighed and stood, completely comfortable with his nakedness while sauntered over to the dresser where she tended to keep some of her toys, opening a drawer. He pursed his lips into a frown as he perused the contents, finally picking up a set of nipple clamps and a set of weights. He set them on top of the dresser and began searching the other drawers until her found what he had obviously been searching for; a blindfold and knotted flogger.
Gathering up his prizes, he approached her and carefully handed the crop to his assistant, then kneeling before his wife so he could look her in the eyes as he held up the clamps. Dorothy inwardly winced when she saw that they were the butterfly type; those would hurt much more than any of the other sets she had in this room. He arched an eyebrow at her and reached out, twisting a nipple painfully, stretching and hardening it to the right texture and applied the small metal attachment.
Wincing wasn't even an option; her eyes closed tightly as the intricate bindings bit into her nipple. The process was repeated on her other nipple and soon she felt the lashes of the flogger tracing whisper-light trails over her sensitive skin. She tensed instinctively and waited, mentally cursing them both. This was the last time she was going to listen to the chuckling bastard before her.
She couldn't stop herself from actually crying out when the first weight was hung off the clamp and she heard her own voice, dimly registering it as such. The biting pressure increased and she fought to keep herself absolutely still. Movement would only make it worse and she knew it. She just wouldn't let herself be caught off-guard, was all. Once she was properly adorned, Quatre smiled in that same childish glee, reaching out and setting the weights in motion just enough to wring another whimper from his wife's throat.
"Maybe we should get them pierced," he mused aloud. "Wouldn't that be beautiful? You know how much I love your breasts…" To prove his point, he cupped them both gently in his large hands, bringing the swell up to his bent head, pressing his lips to each in a reverent gesture. His bangs brushed against her skin and his tongue rasped out, teasing at one of the hardened nubs.
"Then you can forget children and make your sisters unhappy…" she gasped, gritting her teeth. "And with no heir, they'll unseat you so fast, your head will spin…"
"And then you won't be a pampered wife any more," he sighed in mock disappointment. "And you'll take to fucking around on me even more?"
"Maybe if you'd stop buggering your harem boy so much, I wouldn't have to…" she retorted. She really wasn't jealous, but they could at least let her watch every now and then! A loud shriek tore itself from her throat when a hard, solid object made contact with her already-sore buttocks. She idly wondered when the paddle had come into play, only to cry out again when another blow landed. "That hurts!"
"And it will continue to hurt," Quatre told her sternly. "I know you aren't jealous of Trowa, but I'm not going to let you talk about him that way, just like I would never let him talk about you like that. You'll get ten hits as soon as you start counting. Until then, you'll just get random smacks."
Dorothy's eyes widened. That wasn't fair! She wasn't going to count, but the paddling was starting to hurt and she didn't know how much longer she would be able to deal with it before she started to cry. She liked pain, but she liked giving it, not receiving! Another three swats passed before she finally squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth. "I'll count!" she cried, feeling the first tears tracking down her burning cheeks. "I'll count," she repeated a bit more softly. "Quatre…"
The blond knelt beside her again, stroking his thumbs over her cheeks and catching her tears. "You know, I would do the same to him if he talked like that about you," he soothed, kissing her very lightly. "You both need to understand that I love you both and I won't tolerate any sort of bad feelings between both of my lovers."
"I know…" she choked quietly. "And I'm not jealous; you know I'm not!"
"Yes," he murmured. "And I'll tell him not to spank you with the paddle, okay? Ten blows somewhere else."
"With what?" she questioned warily, glancing over at him.
"Well, I'm not a monster," he told her with a small smile. "But you still need to be punished for being a bad girl."
"But…"
"Later," he promised, nipping at her lips. He stood, brushing his hands under the weights enough to swing them slightly. He smiled at her low moan and decided to pull out the latest surprise he had for her. He'd been waiting for such an occasion; that much was obvious by the reverent glee in his eyes as he pulled the fencing foil from behind the couch he'd been sitting on. "I'm sure you know what this it," he told her matter-of-factly. "After all, it was always your weapon of choice."
She watched in growing horror as he tested the foil, slicing through the air with practiced grace. She knew that it would come back to haunt her one day and she glanced at his side where the scar of their fight still stood out against his skin, even after five years. She'd been ready to kill, it was true…but she thought that she'd been paying for it!
Apparently not.
She was so caught up in staring at the foil, she didn't catch the return of the silent partner. She'd been tensing and that certainly made for an interesting sensation when she felt herself penetrated in one swift motion. The forward inertia, stopped abruptly by the bindings forced the weights on the clamps to swing hard. Dual sensations warred across her body and she gasped in shock. He wasn't as thick as Quatre, but he was longer and the slight probe against her cervix hurt. That really wasn't fair, after she'd finally gotten something inside her!
Quatre turned and raised an eyebrow, apparently interested in the new series of events. He nearly dropped the practice sword as his eyes widened slightly, watching the man behind her, a low purr growling out of his throat. "Hmmm…I think she's torn on this," he observed with a slight smirk. "Is he a bit long for you?" She responded with another glare and for a brief moment, a look of sympathy crossed her husband's handsome face. "I guess having you bent over like that makes the penetration a bit much for you."
She hated to admit it, but he was right. Granted, he wasn't particularly what she would call enormous, but he was well-endowed enough that he had no troubles wrenching some particularly loud screams from her in the past. Of course, it could also have something to do with the fact that he was fairly thicker than many men, from what she had seen. What most people didn't know was although she had something of a wild reputation, the first time she'd had honest-to-god sex was on her wedding night. Granted, she'd never admit that to anyone and thankfully Quatre didn't say anything about being shocked when he saw blood on the sheets.
He'd merely apologized and asked if he could run her a bath while running his fingers through her hair. She'd been so embarrassed she hadn't answered him and so without a word, he'd gotten up and filled the tub for her anyway. He'd even gone so far as to take her into the bathroom and set her in the water before leaving her to relax for a while, returning some fifteen minutes later with a glass of white wine and a small tray of chocolate-covered strawberries. It was something one of his sisters did when she was in a bad mood and he told her that it had always made Leila feel better, so he thought it wouldn't hurt at all to try.
Afterwards, she'd gone back to the room, only to find the sheets changed although she knew that no one else had come in but her husband. She had been about to comment when he'd merely placed a quick, gentle kiss on her lips and told her to lie down for a while. She was so confused by the way he was acting that she had done it without question, even more amazed when he'd come back a short time later and spooned himself behind her, drifting into a relaxed doze.
The memory was jolted out of her mind by a more shallow thrust than previously, still rotating slowly as the man gyrated his hips in a lazy circular motion. She heard herself cry out again, violet eyes sliding shut and blocking out the view of her husband's aroused and naked form. If she looked too long at that, there was a good chance that she wouldn't be able to control herself and she'd be damned if there was going to be any sort of wanting after he threatened her with a series of lashes with a fencing foil! She pouted when the burning hardness slipped out of her, waiting for her husband's taunts to begin again.
The one thing she hadn't been expecting was that while she had been forcing herself not to watch, she'd made a rather regrettable error. Her eyes opened and Quatre was still standing before her, but the foil was missing. She felt a sense of cold horror trickle along her spine when the implication of the situation sunk in.
"It's time to count, Dorothy," he told her a brief moment before the first blow struck the back of her thighs.
She let out a shriek of astonishment more than pain; she hadn't expected it to come so quickly after the warning. But she hadn't said anything and it was apparent that he was waiting for her to hold up her end of the bargain. "One," she ground out, clenching her jaw.
The second strike came immediately after she spoke. It was so abrupt, in fact, that she hadn't even had time to register the slight stir of air before the flexible metal made it's next welt across her skin. Thankfully, it didn't cross the first and she was able to choke out, "Two," without much difficulty. Three, four…they weren't so bad; in fact, she thought that perhaps this wouldn't be such a horrible punishment after all. Her husband's assistant was obviously pulling his hits, so as not to seriously hurt her. That was the first rule of the game, after all. No lasting damage. Too bad she hadn't known it all those years before. If she had, maybe she wouldn't have been tied and being beaten with the very same tool used to nearly kill the man before her.
Five. That one stung a bit more than the others. Perhaps this was going to hurt more than she'd figured. At least there were only five more to go and she knew that she could handle it. What she hadn't been expecting was that Quatre was very thoroughly enjoying watching her squirm with that last harder blow to the back of her thighs, leaning against the arm of the settee, his hand trailing down toward his erection, as he stared, fascinated by something she couldn't see.
"Again," he rasped, trapping his erection with his hand. His chest was beginning to stutter with aroused breath and his eyes slowly began to glaze.
"Six!" Dorothy sobbed in a sharp bark of pain. That had hurt even more than the last. She began to wonder if this was going to be a climbing sensation, or if… "Aah! Se-seven…" she stammered. That blow had been gentler, but it had caught the end of another welt across her legs and that had sent a burning flare along the inch-long piece of skin.
"Three more, Dorothy," Quatre whispered, stroking himself slowly, wetting his lips with his tongue. "Can you do it?"
"Yes," she promised, drawing in a shaky breath. She waited for the next blow, but it didn't come immediately as she expected it to. In fact, the next lash didn't strike across her legs until a good part of the stinging had subsided, leaving her sensitive skin to feel the air swirling away before the foil snapped over her flesh. "Eight…" she forced out, tears finally beginning to track down her reddened face.
"Nine…" It was becoming unbearable, but she knew that she only had to endure one more lash with the sword. Only one more…then it would be over and something else would begin… The last blow wrenched a loud, unencumbered wail from her throat. The pain was intense enough that she saw stars behind her eyes for a moment and her sight went dark a second later. She couldn't see and literal blind panic flooded her entire body, choking at her throat.
"Say it, Dorothy," the voice from before whispered near her ear in a warning tone. "He wants to hear it. Do it. It's over as soon as you count the last number."
"Ten." Her voice sounded so small and terrified. Quatre said nothing, however, and after a long breath, she let out a loud cry, tears pouring from her eyes. It was humiliating, painful and she couldn't help but notice that none of her raging passion had died down.
She barely registered strong hands spreading a cooling gel across her legs and buttocks as Quatre knelt in front of her, claiming her mouth in a rough kiss. She hadn't stopped crying and her nose was beginning to clog up, which mortified her all the more. He seemed to sense that and pulled away, reaching back to supply her with a tissue for her nose.
"Here, blow your nose," he ordered gently, holding the Kleenex for her. When she was done, he tossed the garbage aside and cupped her face in his large hands. "Dorothy…that was so magnificent," he whispered reverently. "You're beautiful."
She shook her head and continued to cry softly, refusing to meet his gaze. This was so humiliating and he was lying to her about the way she looked; she was positive she looked horrible with her running nose and red eyes. And there was even someone else here to see it, which was even worse than just her husband, who had always kept her secrets and insecurities. Would this new person do the same, or would she find herself scandalized on the front page of some lie-filled rag? She sobbed harder at the thought.
"Dorothy, what's wrong?" Quatre asked, feeling her embarrassment. "You're safe, no one is going to hurt you. I promise."
"But…" she stammered. Why was she still so damned horny? The mortification alone would have turned her off! It had to! There was no way she would be one of those people that liked being treated like a whore!
"No buts," he chided, placing a finger on her lips. "For now, we're going to play a new game. Can you do that for me? Can you do it for yourself?"
She nodded mutely. She should have known that the game was far from over; some nights, they would be up until dawn, her husband's large, lean frame covering hers as he would bring them both to the brink of orgasm over and over… And every time, she always fell asleep so tired, but sated and feeling protected. She was rewarded with a smile from the tall man before her and she felt the release of the weights on the clamps, but the tiny vices themselves weren't removed.
"I'm going to put the blindfold on you," he told her calmly, brushing the stray hair out of her eyes and kissing away the last of her tears. "And then, we're going to do something I think you'll like very much."
He placed the black silk fabric over her eyes and secured it, taking care to keep from catching her platinum locks in the knot. He could feel her apprehension, but he also knew that her insatiable curiosity and her own sexual urges were winning her over. The shared smirk between himself and his assistant was enough to let him know that he was certainly doing the right thing. He added a long set of delicate chains to Dorothy's clamps and waved the other end to the man behind his wife.
"Come on, you knew this was coming," he urged, motioning the smaller man to stand beside him. "Mmm…I'm going to love this," he murmured, reaching for dusky nipples that were already hardening from sheer arousal.
"Oh!" Green eyes slid shut and he had to force himself to keep his hips still. Granted, there was nothing to gain any friction against, but the instinct to thrust as there, regardless, particularly when he felt the cool bite of the butterfly clamps closed around one nipple, then the other, securing the instruments of pain-pleasure.
"Beautiful," Quatre breathed, stepping back to maneuver the other man into place, erection bobbing painfully as Dorothy's breath stirred across the tightly drawn flesh. He had to smile at the picture they presented; his wife bound and helpless against wood, silk and cooling air, his slight, muscular lover aroused and struggling for control until he gave the command to go any further. He carefully attached a set of chains between them, connecting each set of clamps so that neither could move too far away from the other without punishing them both.
He walked behind Trowa and playfully swatted the other man's ass with the flat of his palm, reveling in the sound of flesh against flesh and the sharp intake of stimulated breath. He really loved the way Trowa's eyes would close and flutter open again, waiting patiently for the next cue, never trying to step away or even into the spankings he was given. Tanned skin flexed over hard muscle and the Romani man stayed absolutely still, waiting for Quatre to finish his ministrations.
He'd been told he would be allowed to spank Dorothy, but he would be punished in turn later. He also knew that this was something his lover's wife had been wanting; Quatre had been considering some sort of play between the three of them himself, and Trowa wasn't about to complain at all. It would make Quatre happy, and that was enough for him. Of course, he didn't even have to admit to himself that the thought of fucking Dorothy was appealing after all he'd heard from the blond man.
He hadn't been paying attention and the soft slap across his face brought him back to reality. He blushed and turned his eyes upward, staring at twin pools of cerulean. He could barely remember the last time he'd been taller than Quatre; a year after his recovery from the hospital, it seemed as though the Arabian finally hit a growth spurt and within a few years' time, he'd found himself at six-foot-two, dwarfing his auburn-haired lover by a good eight inches. As it was, Dorothy also grew to be tall, making the Winners a handsome couple, much to the delight of the paparazzi that stalked them everywhere.
"It's time," he breathed, leaning down to plant a deep kiss on Trowa's lips.
Trowa nodded wordlessly and stepped forward again, brushing the tip of his weeping erection against Dorothy's pouting lips. His breath rushed into his lungs sharply when the tip of her tongue flickered out and teased the fleshy head of his cock for just a moment before darting back inside her mouth. The sight, along with the translucent string of precum left over from the droplet along his slit forced a powerful throb of blood throughout his entire body. There really was something about seeing a woman like Dorothy helpless that was making him crazy. He bit back a moan, pleading to Quatre with his eyes.
"Go ahead," Quatre told his wife casually, running his fingertips up along her side. "It's what you wanted, isn't it? A cock in your mouth? Go on, then; suck him." When she hesitated, the blond man frowned slightly and pinched the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, just hard enough to sting a bit. "Do it."
Dorothy whimpered and opened her mouth, straining forward and letting the flat of her tongue lazily slide out along the bottom of the organ in front of her. It was true that she'd wanted this, but for some reason, she was disappointed; she had thought she would be able to taste her husband, rather than some faceless man under the large man's control. However, she thought that if she was doing what Quatre wanted, he might be willing to go easier on her in the future.
Again, Dorothy opened her lips wide and sucked the mushroom-shaped top into her mouth, suckling the slightly bitter fluid onto the back of her tongue. She definitely enjoyed the sensation, and it was a little kinky to hear her husband demand that she perform fellatio on another man while he watched. Of course, part of her began to wonder if that's all Quatre was going to do. So far, that was all that he'd been doing and quite frankly, it was getting unnerving. Surely he would do something!
"I know what you're thinking," he purred next to her ear as though he had once again read her mind. "And we'll get to that in just a minute, unless I have to discipline you again. But you'll be a good girl, won't you Dorothy?" As he spoke, his voice began to take on the same tone as he had so many years ago when they first met, an earnest, polite request. "I really would hate to have to spank you again, no matter how gorgeous your ass looks beaten red like this."
The blonde woman moaned softly when his hand strayed around behind her, cupping her flaming buttocks. As long as no one had been touching them, it had been bearable, but with Quatre's large, warm hand pressing against her skin, she had to fight back a whimper, hoping that he would leave the welts on her thighs alone. She stayed still as long as she could with his palm merely resting against her, but finally the heat won out and she jerked forward again, forcing the hot length between her lips further into her mouth.
A sharp slap across her ass distracted her from enjoying the shaky moan that floated down from above her face and she cried out, forcing the erection deeper than before, hitting her gag reflex painfully. She managed not to cough or gag, but it still hurt a bit and she felt reflexive tears at the back of her eyes. He had said he didn't want to spank her! Lying bastard!
"Were you trying to deny me to touch what's mine?" Quatre asked in an icy tone that brooked no argument that he was not happy with his wife. She pulled back just a bit and shook her head as best as she could. He wasn't truly angry enough to hurt her and she knew it, but she also knew that there would be torment to pay for it. She managed to catch her breath and resumed her oral treatment, swirling her tongue around the head and sucking lightly, teasing more precum out of the tip.
"I know you wouldn't do anything like that," he murmured appreciatively, placing his hand over her skin once more, lightly stroking his fingers along the unabused crevice, his palm following in a wider swath over the edges of her beaten bottom. "You really are a good girl, aren't you? My good, sweet, perfect Dorothy. My Dorothy."
The gentle handling she was getting was terribly distracting and she knew that if she paid too much attention to the hand on her ass, the cock in her mouth would suffer and she just couldn't bring herself to be a letdown after the tongue bathing she'd given the man's fingers earlier. But it was so hard to block out the hand that stroked upward and down again, each time getting a miniscule distance closer to where she desperately wanted questing digits to caress her throbbing sex. As it was, her inner muscles were flexing helplessly, her legs tensing and tightening in delicious anguish.
Having at least one of her senses taken from her had made the other four stand out in stark clarity, the most apparent being her touch, or rather her sensitized skin. She could smell the arousal building before her and the taste of her new lover was becoming very, very addictive to her greedy mouth. The sound of the other submissive's breathing hitching in his throat while Quatre swore softly once again, sending another rush of wetness trickling down her thigh and the throbbing between her legs returned with a vengeance.
If she'd had the chance she would have began begging for more stimulation, but she knew that was an unlikely outcome. Quatre just had to do something soon! It was getting to be far too much and she was fighting so hard as it was not to struggle and accidentally harm either herself or the man she was fellating. She squeezed her eyes shut behind the dark silk and stretched her neck farther forward again, sucking desperately before pulling away and licking every inch she could reach with her tongue. She heard his breath speeding up and soft whimpers were choking out of his throat.
"Fuck her…" Quatre groaned, rubbing slowly across the clenching muscle. "Fuck her mouth…"
Dorothy was better prepared this time around, having vaguely heard her husband and forced herself to relax her throat before the thrusting began, diminutive hands tangling in her hair as her lover's hips began pumping faster, attempting to stay shallow enough to keep from choking her, but she knew the control wouldn't last long. She really did appreciate the effort, but soon she was making the most primitive of noises, shoving herself forward onto the pulsing cock in her mouth, sucking and erratically thrashing her tongue across every available surface, rubbing her chin against the tightening balls as much as she could. It was so good and she could feel him beginning to stiffen…
He gave one last shove, burying himself as far into her throat as he could, riding the hot sucking sensation. Stars exploded behind his eyelids and he cried out, sobbing her name, continuing to pump as he finally came into her mouth, pulsing so hard that he was certain his oxygen was being cut off completely. It was just as Quatre had speculated it would be, and he found himself slipping to the floor unable to catch himself.
The blond Arabian's eyes were unfocussed and he had only barely managed to pull his sac away from his body, staving off what was likely to be a mind-shattering orgasm, had he allowed it to happen. Trowa absently noted to himself that his lover had much more control than he certainly did; after all, he was the one that had just shot his load down the blonde woman's throat with an abandon he didn't often experience. He knew very well that it was the new situation and the fact that Quatre had been ordering him to do it; leaving the decision to another always managed to get him off spectacularly, especially when the one giving the orders was watching and approving. He loved hearing Quatre groaning and panting like that.
"You made a mess," Quatre said, glancing over at him. Leaning back to look down at himself, he tugged at the nipple clamps attaching him to Dorothy and they both cried out simultaneously at the biting sensation. "Stand up so she can clean you off, Trowa. Take the blindfold off her, too. I want her to get a good look at what she was sucking on."
Dorothy stilled, not even breathing. It really had been Trowa and the shock had her so mentally pole axed, all she could do was gasp when he struggled to his feet, tugging at the chains that bound them together again. Her nipples were getting so terribly sensitive after the erotic torment and she was very likely ready to burst on her own if she kept flexing her muscles the way she was. She only hoped that her husband would take pity and forgive her if she couldn't control herself. The only thing that actually stopped her from rocking herself hard enough to possibly finish herself was the memory of Quatre mentioning an interest in chastity belts a few days previous. She was quite certain she wouldn't be able to handle the possibility of not even being allowed to masturbate.
Soon the blindfold was gone and she blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the dim lighting before her. Trowa's mostly-flaccid cock was mere inches away from her lips and she squirmed forward to lick his spent ejaculate from where she had been unable to catch it all. She knew that he was too sensitive to thoroughly enjoy it, but she made certain that if she was going to do it, she would try and make sure he felt more pleasure than pain as she rasped her tongue over the reddened flesh. His legs were shaking and he was fighting the urge to step away, obviously knowing full well exactly how hard his lover could swat if an order were disobeyed.
Quatre was right; Trowa really was very beautiful when he was naked, trying very hard to stay in control of himself. The mental image of how he must have looked when she brought him off made her gasp breathlessly, lapping at the now non-existent cum trail along his balls. She ignored his whimpers and carefully drew one pulpy nugget into her mouth, licking and suckling ever so gently. She immediately released it, however, when two damp, strong fingers curled themselves inside her from behind.
"Ha~annnn," she exclaimed, the former treat dropping from her lips and glistening with her saliva in the near-darkness. The penetration was so good and for one moment, her eyes rolled back in her head as she moaned helplessly. God, that's what she'd been dying for! "Quatre…please…" she stammered, thrusting back onto his fingers as much a she could without doing too much harm to her already-abused nipples.
"You're so wet," he murmured, rubbing his digits and twisting them experimentally, thrusting deeper before withdrawing completely. "You just do as you're told and I promise you, you'll get exactly what you need…" As he spoke, he nuzzled behind her ear, stopping to nibble at the lobe, laughing softly when her entire body shuddered. "Trowa, unhook the chains, but leave the clamps on you both," he ordered, reaching down to squeeze at one ripe, full breast. "Then you may sit down for a moment before the final stage of the game."
"Thank you, Quatre," the green-eyed man breathed gratefully, disconnecting himself from Dorothy and falling back gracelessly against the couch. He winced when he skidded a little too far across the carpet before being able to lean back, but if there was even the slightest bit of rug burn, it would be treated later, after the game had finished.
"Now, for you," Quatre addressed, massaging his wife's sensitive breast, tugging at the chain on the clamp. "I think the most important part of this whole exercise is about to come to fruition.
"You've gotten what you wanted so far, haven't you?" he demanded playfully, raising her head. "I know you wanted me in your mouth, but there's something a bit more intimate that I want to experience with you. I swear that you'll have a chance to deviate from our normal play in later sessions if you want. Is that acceptable?"
"O-of course," she told him earnestly. So far, she hadn't been hurt very much and to be honest, she was still horny and wanted to be fucked so badly it hurt. "Anything…"
"After this, I'm surprised that she isn't out of her mind," Trowa murmured languidly, attempting to stretch his muscles a bit to relax before his next set of orders arrived. Apparently the stories of her insatiability had spread outside of the bedroom doors, but that was no surprise. "Then again, I have a feeling if you so much as look at her she'll probably lose it."
Quatre laughed again, fondling at his wife wherever his hands managed to wander across her skin. "Is that true, Dorothy? Are you really that ready to cum?"
"You know me well enough," she purred. "What do you think?"
"I think it's time that we got down to business," he replied softly. "Trowa, get the saddle and the harness."
The olive-skinned man didn't hesitate even though it was obvious by the flash of surprise in his eyes that he hadn't been ready for the request. Dorothy had to admit she was curious; she'd never heard or seen a saddle and harness anywhere before. A few minutes later, Trowa was gently setting down a cylindrical contraption with a small motor inside it, an impressive phallus jutting up just out of the side that faced upward. He carefully strapped a cock and ball harness around his lower extremities, leaving the adjustable cock ring alone for the time being.
"Prep yourself and Dorothy," Quatre continued, striding around to the front of his wife, blocking the view of the strange machine, his cock jutting proudly toward the ceiling, purple with frustration. "Meanwhile, I think that I'll see what you can do," he told his wife, tangling her hair around his fist and tugging her face forward.
Dorothy felt her cheeks flushing again and she was suddenly shy at the prospect of being this close to Quatre's penis. She'd certainly had it close enough to her face in the past and she knew every vein, ridge and muscle irregularity by touch alone, but there was something that was more terribly intimate than before. The scent alone was enough to actually set her mouth watering and she stared in fascination, almost afraid to break the spell.
"Don't tell me you're getting shy after all this time," Quatre's mellow baritone was tinged with amusement, but his eyes softened. "This is certainly a shh…it…" he moaned, leaning his head back a little.
She couldn't help but smile around the hardness between her lips, sucking at his head and nudging her face forward to draw him further into her mouth. She was ready to let her husband know exactly what he had been missing for the past five years. Then again, she had to admit that she was certainly enjoying what she had missed in the past five years of their marriage. It was better than she had imagined and all she could do was happily begin to map out everything she had known with her fingertips with her tongue.
Just the scent and taste alone was making her horny all over again, not that much of the urgent pulsing in her groin had sated in the past few minutes. She started sucking urgently, whimpering and memorizing every detail she possibly could. Granted, he had promised more variation from here on out, but she wanted to remember everything that she could about the sensation of giving her husband the most pleasure possible for the first time. Sentimentality normally had no place for her in sex; it was fun and it felt good and that's what she wanted. As long as she got it, she really didn't care, but there was something different about tonight's escapade that made her actually care about what was going on with her partners rather than just herself. It was disturbing, to say the least.
Soon, wet, cool fingers probed along her ass and she thought that she would be getting another lotion treatment for her sore skin, but instead, the slick fingers began to nudge further between her glowing cheeks, seeking the small pucker in the center. She squirmed uncomfortably, but she bore with it; every now and then she had experimented with plugs and she figured tonight was Quatre's time to deviate from his normal behavior with her. It didn't seem that important, but it was cold and she wasn't used to having someone actually do this to her. Once again, this was something for her submissive to handle. It was odd how easily she was going along with it all once she had accepted that tonight she was the submissive.
Preparing oneself for anal penetration was much easier than most people thought. It was certainly a bit messy and awkward, but not much more than doing so to another person. Trowa carefully squeezed out a generous amount of lube onto his fingertips and began the long process of stretching the prone blonde woman. She was rather taken with her current project, so he didn't have much trouble with her shock. In fact, he noted to himself that she was obviously enjoying giving Quatre a blowjob and he couldn't say that he blamed her.
Glancing up he saw the other man gasping and fighting to control his body; that also earned a bit of a smile. After what he'd experienced at the cavern of Dorothy's mouth, he fully understood that as well. The woman was a natural at what she did and he knew that after she became even more used to it that she would be able to make Quatre's vision blur. Perhaps he would even be able to talk to her later and divulge a few secrets. The thought made him smile a little more and he gathered up more jelly, continuing to coat her inside and around her anal opening. One finger became two and then three, agonizingly slow, but he wanted to make certain that she was prepared properly.
His own erection had begun to twitch again slightly and he couldn't help but stare at it in dismay. He normally required at least fifteen minutes to recuperate and it certainly couldn't have been that long yet. Then again, lately it had been taking closer to a half-hour, but he didn't mind; he wasn't a teenager any more after all and he just didn't have the energy to spend all night awake and tumbling through the fine Egyptian cotton sheets Quatre kept on his bed. It was truly amazing how time could prove that they didn't need to force their bodies to make up for the possibility of losing one another like they had back then; every night had been filled with being as close together as possible, clinging to one another feverishly in between bouts of sex…
These days, it was certainly nice to know that he could spend a few hours making love and be able to curl up against his massive Arabian lover, falling asleep to the sound of Quatre's breathing. He became lost in the thought for a moment, until a sharp cry from Quatre brought him back to his senses and he watched with a cool amusement as the blond man pulled away from his wife's mouth, tugging at his testicles to avoid ejaculation once more. He knew that Quatre had other plans for the evening. Plans that would require him to regain his own erection and he needed to do it soon, regardless of the fact that it might be a bit uncomfortable.
"Now yourself, Trowa," Quatre said, glancing over at the slender man. Trowa nodded and made his way to the basin where he carefully washed his hands and began to prep himself much the same way he had Dorothy minutes before. His cock began to twitch again in anticipation and he ignored the slight discomfort of fondling a still-too-sensitive organ, focusing on doing as he was told.
Finally he was ready and he passed by his more dominant lover, stopped by a strong hand to pull him in for a kiss. He was fully aroused by then and as he reached up to touch Quatre's face, he felt the other man's fingers deftly loop and tighten the leather thong around the base of his penis. Now it was time.
The machine was waiting and didn't need to be plugged in, so he obediently straddled the padded section of two-foot diameter pvc pipe, strenuously positioning himself over the dildo that was peeking out of it's mounting. It was always a strange feeling, straddling something inanimate, only to impale oneself on a synthetic phallus… but regardless, he knew that Quatre enjoyed it, so he never really complained about it. Besides, this was going to prove interesting and he really didn't want to miss it, so he reached behind himself and carefully positioned the latex cock at his opening, seating himself completely on the cool vinyl.
There was the popping sensation of the head making it's way past his sphincter, only penetrating a few inches into his body. He knew the situation would soon change, or at least as soon as the machine actually started and he felt a rush of anticipation. It was certainly never as good as being with Quatre, but the sensation of being filled and plunged into was something he had grown to crave in the past few years. Every now and again, he would take Quatre, but most of the time, it was he who was on the bottom. He still found it secretly humorous, as most of the others had assumed that he would have been the seme in their relationship and that it had merely stayed that way out of routine.
Truth be told, in their younger years, Quatre had topped just as much as he had, seeing as they both understood the mind-blowing pleasure that could be given from being on the bottom, not to mention the way it felt to be buried inside an orgasming lover. That thought combined with sweet memories sent blood pumping through his body and attempting to creep into his already-engorged cock, but instead, it merely twitched in some sort of frustration known only to a bound male organ and the male himself. He looked over in time to see Quatre slathering his penis with lubricant and taking a step behind Dorothy.
"Now, Trowa."
Dorothy's ears picked up the mechanical hum of a small motor and watched intently as Trowa's face screwed into a mask of slight discomfort. She had been wondering exactly what he had been doing, especially since it seemed as though he'd only gotten minimal penetration from the dildo on the saddle, but soon, she understood: the wiry man had impaled himself on what was popularly called a "fucking machine", complete with a small motor that would rise and lower the sex toy, emulating the thrusts of a lover. The design was interesting to say the least and soon it was obvious that Trowa was very much enjoying the sensation.
But the sensation she experienced was what forced a cry from her mouth, eyes wide and filled with panic. "Quatre, no!" she yelped, squirming to get away. "You're too big!"
"And I've told you this was mine," he reprimanded, giving her another swat across her sore buttocks. "You're my wife, you wanted something different, and so I'm giving it to you."
"But…I…" she stammered, the shock finally registering along with the fact that he was right by all accounts. She did want something different, she had said her body was his…and she had to admit that she really was curious. After all, it couldn't be that terrible, seeing as she'd watched many a porn where women got off on anal penetration just as much as men did. And besides, if she could take her husband the traditional way, why not a more unusual one?
"Dorothy, I'd really like to try this with you," Quatre reasoned gently. "I promise you'll enjoy it, even if it does hurt a little at first. And I'm not too big; Trowa can handle it."
"I know," she acquiesced. "I was just a little surprised. Just…be careful, okay?" Her request sounded like pleading to her own ears, but it could have been the fact that next to Trowa's low moans, she did sound like she was whining.
"I will," the blond man promised. "Just relax."
She closed her eyes and drew in a deep, calming breath, waiting. She willed her muscles to relax and concentrated on trying to enjoy herself. The initial probe was strange; the head of his cock rubbed against her opening as though testing the resistance of her body. She twitched a little, out of pure reflex and managed to chuckle an apology when his fingers stole to her sides to tickle at her ribs for a moment.
Once again, she felt strong thumbs prying her buttocks apart, the fleshy head probing at her opening again. She screwed up her face and bit her lip as a slight burning sensation began at her backside. That wasn't what she expected and it wasn't as uncomfortable as she had imagined, but it still hurt as he pressed forward, withdrawing again moments later, only to begin again, pushing a little further each time.
"Fuck, you're so tight…" Quatre breathed, pushing himself another inch further into her body. "And now every part of you is really mine…"
"It…hurts…" she whimpered, trying to block out the pain.
"Try pushing a bit," he suggested. "It helps. And why don't you look at Trowa? I think you'll enjoy the view."
Dorothy found herself looking at Trowa and catching her breath for a moment. The Romani man was in the early throes of passion, his body covered in a light sheen of sweat. His normally passive face was contorted into an expression that could only be described as erotically sublime. His cheeks were coloring from the lack of breath that was being inhaled and exhaled in short bursts, heaving his entire chest for brief, sporadic seizures of pleasure. It truly was a beautiful sight and she found herself gasping at the rush of wanting to see him peak.
The second gasp came when she felt her husband make one last thrust forward, his balls lightly brushing over the back of her hypersensitive thighs, his pubic hair seemingly abrading her sore buttocks. She had expected it to hurt as much as it had in the beginning, only to find that her body was rapidly adjusting and it was actually quite nice to have him buried inside her. He rocked a little and she moaned loudly, her eyes beginning to close at the exquisite sensation of his cock sliding in and out just a very little bit…
"Dorothy," he whispered, grasping on to her hips. "Oh Allah…that's so perfect…"
"You should look over there," she responded absently as she watched Trowa begin to writhe on the cylinder. "It's really…quite…lo-oooh!"
"Maybe," the Arabian man agreed, pulling himself back a bit before snapping his hips forward again. "But I bet he will be enjoying his show very soon, too. Trowa, pay attention or you'll suffer for it and you know it."
On command, green eyes snapped open obediently, devouring the sight before him of Dorothy still tied down, nipples clamped with intricate silver chains barely pooling on the expensive Persian carpet, her face flushed with arousal as her own gaze raked over him. Quatre was behind her, barely moving, but it was obvious that his hips were rocking out of her and back in, his eyes nearly closed in ecstasy, his normally fair skin beginning to color was well. Slowly, the thrusts became harder and Dorothy's lovely, heavy breasts began to jiggle slightly, swaying forward and back with the motion of her body.
He could feel the warm, slick dildo sliding in and out, almost at the same slow pace as his lover and he found himself panting and groaning, squeezing the toy tightly with his muscles as it drew out. He could imagine the way they both felt and he desperately wished that he would be allowed to touch himself, although even if he were, there would be no guarantee of being allowed an orgasm. The thought of being able to squeeze and fondle his aching shaft forced another languid twitch from the bound organ and he had to force himself to breathe.
Instead, he fixated on the slightly open mouth of his lover for just a few seconds, watching a nervous tongue to wet plush lips and he nearly went over the edge again. He had no idea what was making him so easily aroused and ready to explode all of the sudden, but it was such a delicious pain that he found himself thrusting back against the latex rod inside his body, sparks of amazing pleasure spiking along his cock as his prostate was being prodded and stroked. It was pure torment. It was torture. It was wonderful.
Dorothy wasn't even bothering to swallow her gasping sobs as Quatre began to thrust just a little harder than before, rocking just a little faster, his right hand trailing down to tug at the finely groomed honey-colored curls between her legs. That stimulation alone wrenched a scream from her and if he didn't continue, she was positive she was going to start begging like she had never done before and she didn't care. She heard Quatre's low, rich voice muttering behind her, one hand still resting on her hip as his pace began to become more desperate with her own breathing.
Trowa let out a strangled howl, his hips gyrating wildly from his vantage point some six feet away. She saw his lips moving, chanting silently, and struggling to keep his eyes open as he'd been told to. One word over and over, and soon, she began to mirror his pleading, her voice actually beginning to grow from a near-inaudible whisper. "Please…please…please…"
"Please?" Quatre growled. "Please what? Did I give either of you permission to beg?"
"No, Quatre-sama…" Trowa bawled, his face starting to match the same violet color as his cock.
"Dorothy?"
"I don't care!" she screamed, shoving herself backward as hard as she could. "Quatre, please…I can't stand it…"
"You can't stand this?" he asked, leaning down behind her to place a rough love bite on her shoulder. "How would you feel about this, then?" His fingers at her crotch slipped down further, rubbing at the wet erect button he found there, his left hand tangling painfully in her hair, yanking her head back. "You can't stand me fucking you in the ass like this?"
All that came out was an incoherent moan that ended in a desperate whine. There was no way she was going to be able to stop herself. She heard her husband order Trowa to remove the harness, but he wasn't allowed to stroke himself. In turn, he stopped stimulating her clit, ramming himself into her so hard he was forcing puffs of air out of her open mouth. Trowa actually began screaming in short, high-pitched whimpers, his cock pulsing violently, but not yet actually coming. The spiral within the blonde woman's body wound tighter and tighter until Quatre's sharp bark snapped it loose.
"Now."
Everything went into a spectrum of pulsing light and seizing muscles. She didn't know whether she was breathing or not; whether she was even aware of anything else other than the amazing sensation of an orgasm so intense her entire body began to shake violently, mindless screams filling the room, and she was fairly certain they weren't all hers alone.
Quatre wasn't making any noise other than heavy, ragged breathing, tugging painfully at her long platinum hair and delving into her body as far as he could manage. It was far too much and she felt her husband's weight fall onto her, his body slick with sweat. She was too hot all of the sudden and Quatre was heavy. She tried to tell him to get off, but she couldn't speak. Her voice was completely gone and when she opened her eyes, there were still flashes of light swimming in her blurred vision.
Trowa was fumbling to turn off the machine, his body still arching back to expose his hard muscles and still-pulsing cock. As soon as the machine stilled, he pulled himself off of it, falling to the floor hard. He was literally gulping air, half-sobbing still, his body twitching. He knew for certain that was the last time he'd be able to do that; he wasn't entirely sure his body would even recover from this bout as it was.
Dorothy was fighting to breathe, her husband's large, muscular frame draped across her back, unconscious. He crawled over to them, deftly untying the knots as well as he could, thankful that there were actually sets of quick-release ends connected to the entire elaborate binding, setting the exhausted woman free.
Both of them slid to the floor, the leggy blonde collapsing backward onto her husband's prone form. She managed to roll to the side, hissing as she disconnected herself from him and she weakly grinned at Trowa. He returned the gesture before finding his voice.
"So, Lady Winner, was that what you had in mind?" he panted.
She seemed to be struggling to speak, but she finally managed to croak out, "Nothing could have prepared me for this."
All in all, I'd say it was a good evening. Heero had mentioned to me that Dorothy had told Hilde she wanted something kinky and outright nasty in bed. I think I nearly came in my pants right there. I'd always wanted to dominate her…claim her…I mean, really claim her, humiliate and chastise her…
But all of my breeding and hers told me that I wasn't allowed to do that; the closest I ever got was stimulating myself between her lovely breasts and that was so hard not to spray myself all over her face and into her mouth… Trowa didn't mind so much and he enjoyed being dominated and controlled, but it was the last thing I would have expected from my headstrong, sharp-tongued, wild woman of a wife. All the stories I'd heard, she was the one that had taken charge of discipline and sexual gratification. I always knew she was letting me take her, and more often than not, she always wound up straddling my hips, riding me like an animal. I loved the way she looked like that, too. And then, my ultimate dream had begun to take shape.
I talked to Trowa, explaining to him what I wanted. I admit that I tend to be a bit jealous and I was initially wary of even bringing it up at all. But of course, the thought of Trowa fucking her while I watched was too much of a temptation. I taunted him with the most descriptive phrases of what it felt like to be with her…that he needed to try it… It took a while, actually, but he finally caved and I was elated. Dorothy, if course, wanted something out of the ordinary and I planned to make this as much of a surprise as I possibly could.
And now, lying here between them, Trowa on one side, Dorothy on the other, I feel like things most definitely worked out for the best. I really hope this isn't the last of the whole situation, since I'm beginning to think I really enjoyed myself. I love them both more than I can normally say, but only Trowa had understood up until now that I still wanted to protect them and keep them safe. He always proved his trust to me and tonight, I got the greatest gift of all: my wife's ultimate trust and the door to a new situation between myself and both of my lovers.
I don't think there's anything more I could possibly ask for.
