A Betty's Pledge: Volume One (32 page)

“You will not come, do you understand?” Colette said on a pant, and I couldn’t tell
if she was out of breath because of the countless strokes she was delivering on his
skin, or the fact that the pair of them was becoming more and more aroused as she
continued.

“Yes, Mistress,” Phillip replied, and this time I could hear more of a strain in his
voice. Whether from pleasure or from pain, I couldn’t tell.

When she arrived at his cock, Colette showed him no mercy. She brought down the crop
again and again until his skin was beet red, almost purple with the amount of blood
rushing to the area. And yet, Phillip was still rock hard, ready and wanton.

In a quick movement, Colette dropped her crop on the ground and pulled her gown off
her shoulders. The fabric fell from her body in a graceful tumble of silk, leaving
her bare except for her silken, elbow-length gloves.

“Yes, my love,” Colette crooned as she ran her hands down her male’s body, and I was
sure that the contrast of the cool silk along his body after the sting of the crop
was quite stimulating. It seemed that I was right, for I could see his thick length
twitch at her touch. And yet, his expression never changed. Not one moan befell his
lips. The entire time, Phillip was composed, reserved, as if he wasn’t affected in
the slightest.

Endurance, indeed . . .

Colette’s silk-covered hands encased his erection, pulling and smoothing along the
hardened shaft and pumping him toward the edge of a climax. I didn’t know how he could
possibly resist the urge to orgasm, she was working him so hard, but he didn’t. Even
when she wrapped her satin lips around his head, taking him deep inside her warm mouth,
he didn’t finish. When she straddled him on the table, sheathing him inside her body,
he didn’t flinch, grimace, or groan. And though she rode him through two of her own
climaxes, he didn’t orgasm. It was only when she was coming to her third, when both
their bodies were covered in sweat, did she finally give him permission to let go.

“Now, my love. Come with me now!”

And he did, roaring through his release, bringing her with him. Both of them shot
through the atmosphere together, shaking, clenching, and riding their climax to exponential
heights.

I’d never witnessed anything like it. Her domination, his supplication, their shared
orgasmic eruption. I was amazed.

And suddenly my ideals about sex seemed way more small-town than I had ever thought
possible. There was so much more for me to explore, for me to find, and my first training
session seemed to cement my resolve even more.

God, I loved being a Betty . . .

The Cheater

~ Isaac Wilson ~

“Why do men cheat?”

Adam Vance sat by the large fire, puffing on his pipe. English blended tobacco smoke
shifted through the air, mixing with the question he’d offered for us to ponder. While
the other men watched our surprise guest with rapt attention, Adam’s presence at the
Consort meeting came of little shock to me.

Often we’d have former Consorts presenting their wisdom like a coveted guest speaker,
offering advice on how to culture our untamed natures into that of a well-rounded
lover.

Adam Vance just happened to be from the original founding family tree, so the atmosphere
seemed a little tense as a result. Each man harbored some sort of deference for the
man; I just saw him as an overindulged counselor.

This was the part of the program I hated the most: the psych evaluation. And since
this was my third time through it, these conversations were becoming a bit repetitive.

“Because we can,” Brad mumbled through a mouth filled with potato chips. I grimaced,
looking at him in disgust.

Why is he always eating?

“For the adventure of it?” Carson said, his asinine answer sounding more like a question.

“Adventure . . .” Adam repeated the word like it tasted bad in his mouth. The older
man took a great pull on his pipe before posing yet another question. “Can I ask how
you think it is an adventure to hurt a woman, Carson?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Carson bristled a bit at the man’s response, and stood
from his place on the couch to refill his snifter with three fingers of whiskey. The
crystal decanter clinked on the glass as he clarified. “I was talking about the excitement,
the thrill, and the risk. Some men are into that kind of thing.”

“Maybe those men should invest in a pain room.” Trent chuckled, earning a few grunts
of agreement.

“You bring up a valid point,” Adam agreed, nodding to Trent as if his comment was
full of wisdom and not a joke. The men sobered, waiting for the elder Grant to continue.
“Do you think a man would be less likely to cheat if he added some spice in his sex
life?”

“No.” My voice came out more somber than I intended. “If it’s in a person’s nature
then they will regardless. Some are just built that way, and there’s no changing it,
no matter how much we want to dissect it down to a baser rationale.”

“Spoken like a true woman scorned.” Nate raised his own glass of whiskey in mock salute.
He’d been asked to sit in on our meeting to serve as some sort of Consort liaison,
but I knew it was because he and Diane were having their own issues and Jackson made
him attend.

It seemed my brother’s interest in one of the girls hadn’t gone unnoticed by his girlfriend,
and though Diane liked to play with the vag from time to time, Nate had always been
strictly hers. I didn’t know what he was supposed to get out of this, but perhaps
the topic of conversation wasn’t by accident. I glared at him, my mind spinning with
troubling implications.

“It’s a fact,” I said. “Some people will cheat just because they can. And there is
no rhyme or reason to it, there’s no psychoanalyzing it. It just happens. Once a cheater,
always one, isn’t that how the saying goes?”

“Isaac, you can’t keep that chip of expectation on your shoulder forever.” He pushed
off the wall he was leaning against and ate up the few strides it took to stand in
front of me like he had an argument brewing in his britches.

“Shut the fuck up.” There was no way in hell I wanted to air out my own dirty laundry
in front of these fuckheads. A hard expression told my asshole brother that if he
pushed me on this topic, I’d unleash his own past—including the current reason he
was in this meeting. Nate shrugged, letting it go for now, but I couldn’t ignore the
questioning stares from my fellow Consorts. I took a seat on the worn leather couch,
my face set in a stern expression as Adam tried to direct the conversation back on
topic.

“Some would argue that the male species is essentially designed to cheat,” he said,
gesturing toward me as if agreeing with a point I’d made. That hadn’t been my intent,
but I wasn’t going to interrupt him. Let him turn my private disagreement with my
brother into a debate. I didn’t give a shit.

Adam continued. “In fact, some scientists believe that it is part of our genetic makeup,
that wanting to plant our ‘seed’ in as many viable, breed-worthy hosts is just an
evolutionary pull to pass on our own genes.”

“Well that just makes us sound like a bunch of unintelligent apes now, doesn’t it?”
Trent said in his smooth tone. He sat on the plush leather couch, sipping on his wine
with his foot lying atop his knee. “Personally, I think that is a load of shit. If
evolution gave me the drive to cheat, it also gave me forethought not to follow through
on my impulses. I’d say the sense of ethics and morality negates that argument outright.”

“Ahh, the right of choice,” Adam chimed in, his expression alight. He looked to Trent,
gesturing for him to continue his thought process.

“If you want to make this into a discussion about genetics, then I would say it’s
an invalid argument.” Trent uncrossed his legs and set his empty glass onto the side
table. “The conscience comes into play. I, for one, know how much it hurts not only
the woman, but each and every person involved when someone steps out on a relationship.”

“I think we can all agree that not much thinking regarding the consequences is involved
in the decision-making process.” Adam paused to take another draw from his pipe. A
fine haze of smoke covered the room. The way the light from the fire fell upon it
made it seem like a thickening fog, adding a sense of foreboding to the already uptight
atmosphere.

“I would agree with that.” Carson shot down the rest of his whiskey and made a motion
to refill his glass once more. He stopped when Adam leveled him a disapproving glance.
Apparently, he didn’t want us all snookered for his pearl of wisdom speech. I grinned,
bringing my own amber liquid up to tingle against my lips before it went down my gullet.
Carson cleared his throat before he continued.

“When a woman approaches a man, giving him the attention he craves and lacks at home,
he’s going to go for it regardless of whether he’s in a relationship or not. Cheating
isn’t just about sexual pleasure. It’s a result of issues in the relationship at home.”

“Egos . . .” Adam pondered, and I rolled my eyes when his gaze travelled to the ceiling
like he was looking for the answers among the stars.
This is so lame.

“If someone is making a commitment to another person, regardless of whether the attention
they receive from that person is stilted due to comfort with each other over time,
shouldn’t that sense of duty keep that person from cheating?” Trent said it like we
were discussing a subject in a philosophy class or something. I knew from his history,
however, that his father had left his mother for another woman, leaving her alone
with him and his sister, Margaret. This wasn’t just a debate for him, but something
incredibly personal. Yet he kept a tight lid on his emotions, something he must have
mastered at some point in his life.

“It should,” Brad replied, his cheeks filled with unchewed food. “But it doesn’t half
the time. I think that decision boils down to a sense of honor and integrity, which
is learned from our parents. Dude, were your parents loyal to each other? It sounds
like you were taught right.”

Trent didn’t answer. I could see his guard flash up, but his mouth curved into a petulant
smile.

“Brad, lay off,” Carson muttered under his breath, knowing what his cousin had been
through.

“What?” Brad appeared oblivious. “I’m just agreeing with Trent, man. He’s right.”

“How is this supposed to help us become better lovers again?” Carson attempted to
steer the conversation away from Trent and Brad for the time being. I could see his
cousin’s posture relax a bit out of the corner of my eye, and I turned a questioning
glance to Adam. He smiled kindly, his demeanor giving off a placating aura like he
knew something that none of us were privileged to.

“I was tempted a couple of times in my life,” Adam murmured, his eyes glazing over,
seeing a memory in his mind that prompted his confession. “I think everyone is at
some point: both men and women. But my decision came down to a simple fact. What I
had at home far outweighed any simple pleasure those women would bring me.”

We all stared at him for a moment, trying to understand his thought process. I pictured
his wife, Veronica. She was an older woman with the elegance and refinement of Grace
Kelly. I could tell that she carried a timeless beauty, one that would hold any man’s
attention. Despite that fact, I admired the man for keeping his sword in his pants
as long as he had. Even with a creature like that at home, some in his position would
be more than tempted to stray if a younger, finer specimen came into his pasture.

“I want you all to think of the young women with you in this program,” Adam said firmly,
his strong voice echoing along the walls, changing the dynamic of the room to more
serious in nature. My thoughts traveled immediately to Mady, and a smile curved my
mouth at the image of her spread out beneath me just last night. God, she’d felt amazing.

I looked up, seeing similar smirks on the other faces around the room. Only Nate stood
by the fire, his expression tight and brooding. It didn’t look right on him somehow,
and I wondered who occupied his thoughts: Diane, or his mysterious Betty.

“Each of these women is beautiful beyond compare, eager and willing to learn the finer
arts of sexual gratification,” Adam continued, earning a couple of crude grunts of
agreement from the men in the room. “Unbeknownst to them, they are being cultivated
by this program to create suitable mates for you boneheads, but I suggest you take
a look at the bigger picture. None of you will find a more perfect match than who
you are mated to at the Grant Mansion: personality compatibility, sexual prowess,
or in intellectual stimulation. You will never be lacking, nor find a temptation that
will surpass what is before you. It’s a fact that has been tried and tested many times,
and has never failed in the history of the Grants. It was why our forefathers started
this program.”

I grimaced, the heady reminder of our dishonesty with the Betties not sitting right
with me, and not for the first time. Perhaps it was my blooming maturity or the fact
that I myself had felt deceived, but bile churned in my stomach, stealing my attention
away from Adam’s asinine logic. I didn’t have to worry about challenging him, however.
Nate did it for me.