Wicked Games (31 page)

Leaning forward, he pressed his cream-covered fingers deeply into Rose's sweet sex. She jumped in her bonds and gritted out, “I imagine such things would be arousing—to a sadist.”

“To any man, Rose.” He dipped his leather-sheathed fingers into the jar again. “Men have a need, an instinct, to dominate. And the conquest is all the sweeter when it's a beautiful woman who is forced to submit.”

Taylor paused and contemplated her pouting sex, then began to work the cream inside. His smile was slow and hot. “Her cries of pain and surrender heat his blood until his rod is as hard as a sword.”

He dug his fingers into the jar again, scooped out a generous portion, and, before she could move, thrust them deeply into her anus.

Alan growled in rage, the sound drowned out by Rose's startled yelp.

“Oh, come now, Rose,” Taylor said, grinning as he screwed his fingers more deeply into her. “I'm quite sure Alan has made use of this little hole already. How could he resist? Your pain was his pleasure, your submission, his victory.”

Briskly he drew his fingers out of her and turned to the rack of whips hanging on the wall. Alan tensed, but Taylor abided by their agreement by choosing the lightest silk cat-o'-nine-tails for the next phase of the punishment.

Rose watched him saunter toward her, flicking the cat. Her brown eyes were bitter. “I've been whipped before. That toy will do you no good.”

Taylor's smile stretched, slow and deadly. “It will,” he purred, “where I'll use it.” Drawing his arm back, he laid the silken lash hard, right across her rosy little nipples.

She cried out in rage and pained surprise, bouncing on her toes. Taylor's second strike caught her before she had time to recover from the first, making her generous breasts jiggle. She writhed, throwing back her head until the long tendons of her throat slid and worked.

Taylor stopped and deliberately began to unbutton his breeches. Alan noted with surprise that he wasn't totally hard yet; apparently such scenes were common enough to him to lose some of their erotic impact.

Alan himself was hard as a rifle barrel.

“I want you to watch what flogging your big, pretty breasts does to me,” Taylor said softly. “Watch, and know how little mercy you can expect.”

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

Rose's shoulders worked, her torso twisting as she fought to get away from the burning sting of the little whip, her nipples swelling and flushing. The captain's cock lengthened, slowly going a deep red as it hardened to impressive proportions.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

She was crying out now, in high, gasping yelps of pain.

“That's right, sweet. Sing for me,” Taylor crooned, his massive organ swinging with every stroke.

Suddenly he arrested his hand in midair and looked closely at Rose's face, her eyes screwed shut, her teeth clamped in her lip. “It's taking effect, isn't it?”

“What?” she gasped without opening her eyes.

“The drug in the cream,” he said, running a hand over his big shaft. “The drug that makes you crave cock.”

•   •   •

R
ose gasped. Her breasts burned, her nipples swollen from Taylor's relentless whip, but that pain was negligible next to the fire blazing in her sex and rectum. An image floated through her mind: Alan, looming over her, shafting her in long, skillful strokes. She whimpered, wishing desperately that he was here now. He'd take her, he'd put the fire out . . .

“How,” said Taylor seductively, leaning closer, “would you like to feel my cock sliding into your tender little quim?”

Her eyes flared wide and flew to the big phallus that thrust from his unbuttoned britches. She licked her lips. It looked so hard . . .

He smiled slightly, sliding a hand over the object of her fascination. “Just imagine, Rose. It would be so hot . . .”

She couldn't. She didn't even know him. It would be wrong. It would make a whore of her. It wasn't like with Alan, the man she loved and once dreamed of marrying . . .

But she was burning, itching for a long shaft driven deep, and Alan wasn't here.

“You need this, Rose,” Taylor told her, his voice seductive, tempting as Satan's.

“Yes,” she whimpered, deeply ashamed. But the hunger in her didn't care about shame. It cared only for his cock.

“I wonder,” Taylor said with a smile she found chilling even in her present mood, “just how much you do need it. Would you like to find out?”

She struggled to concentrate past the flames licking her core. It was so hard to think. “What do you mean?”

“You'll see.” Moving closer, Taylor pulled a folding knife from his pocket. A few passes of its sharp blade and Rose could straighten from her bent pose over the rail. Her back ached savagely, but not as much as her sex. She braced herself against the rail and tried to catch her breath.

“Well,” Taylor said abruptly. “You're free now. What are you going to do?”

“I don't . . .” she began, and stopped, rubbing her abraded wrists. She couldn't think. Her sex felt twice its normal size; her every breath tormented her clitoris.

Then, as she watched in bewilderment, Taylor walked to the door, inserted the key, and twisted it. With a flourish, he swung the wooden portal wide.

“There, Rose. You're free. You can go.”

She blinked at him suspiciously. “Go?”

“Yes. You're not a captive anymore. I'm releasing you.”

Rose took a step toward the door—and groaned as the fires leaped. Her hand flew to her sex before she could stop herself. Involuntarily her eyes slid to Taylor's big phallus, jutting so temptingly as he stood by the doorway.

He smiled and moved closer. “I wonder which you would rather do: leave—or kneel at my feet and suck my cock.”

Outrageous suggestion. She wished her head would clear enough to let her tell him so. The very idea that she would go to her knees and take that big, plum-shaped head between her lips, caress the thick shaft, swirl her tongue around it until he grew so hard with lust that he would fling her to her back and drive to her depths in a deep, pounding fuck. Of course she wouldn't do any such thing.

Rose directed her feet to take another step toward the door. She was quite surprised when her knees gave out and dumped her in front of Taylor's massive prick.

She was even more astonished when she felt its great plum head slide seductively between her lips.

•   •   •

A
lan watched in angry jealousy as Rose's sweet mouth engulfed Taylor's cock. He knew it served him right; he'd brought her here to be punished, and now he'd been hoisted on his own petard.

But that self-aware thought vanished like smoke as Taylor's prick began to slide deeper between Rose's full, moist lips. Her lashes fanning her cheeks, she closed her eyes and suckled him with desperate force. Taylor leaned back a bit to watch her, smiling a purely male smile of triumph that made Alan want to punch in his teeth. If she was to kneel submissively at anyone's feet, it should be his.

“That's it, girl,” Taylor purred, wrapping a big fist in her long, dark hair. Slowly he flexed his hips to shove his cock deeper down her throat. “Come on, sweet, I know you can take more of it than that.” Rose widened her mouth obediently and forced her head closer to his belly, making a little choking sound of distress at his width. After moments of fruitlessly attempting to engulf him, she drew back and eyed the big shaft a moment as if trying to come up with a strategy of attack. Then, delicately, she put out her tongue and began to swirl it over the sensitive head. Her tongue looked long and pink, describing an erotic curl as it went to work.

One small hand came up and reached into Taylor's breeches to fondle his heavy balls. Her fingers appeared very white against the dark, wrinkled skin with its thick pelt of wiry blond hair.

Taylor shuddered, his eyes sliding shut as his head rolled back on his shoulders. With slow, even thrusts, he worked his dick against Rose's eagerly laboring tongue.

She looked up at him, her dark eyes shining with a feverish kind of hunger. “Do you want me?” she breathed, and licked at his organ again.

“Ohhhhh. Oh, yes. Suck me, you little bitch.”

Rose darted her head forward and took him in again, sucking so vigorously that her cheeks hollowed. Taylor's knees buckled, then straightened again.

She pulled back again and looked up at him, one long hand holding his cock in a possessive grip. “I'm so wet, Taylor, so hot. Wouldn't you like to . . .”

Damn her!
With a snarl, Alan whirled away from the spy hole and strode for the door. His booted foot hit the wood and it bounced open, making Taylor and Rose jump.

“Any fucking you get, you slut,” Alan snarled, “will be done by
me.
”

•   •   •

R
ose squealed, kicking, as Alan's hard, callused hand descended again and again on her bare bottom.

“She's pinkening nicely,” observed Taylor in a tone of polite interest in direct contrast to the size of the bulge she could see in his uniform trousers.

“I know. It's such a lovely shade.”

“Bastard!” Rose spat, struggling desperately. But her legs were clamped between Alan's thighs as he gripped her wrists in one hand. There wasn't a damn thing she could do to save herself from his violently stinging blows. Worse, the spanking made the heat in her belly flame even higher.

“You know,” Taylor said, “technically speaking, it's not her fault. We
did
drug her with that cream. Otherwise she would never have been so willing to wrap that sweet mouth around my cock.”

“I know that.” But the burning impacts of his hand didn't slow. “I'm beating her ass for the sheer satisfaction of it.”

“I know . . . OOOW! ALAN! . . . something you'd like . . . OW! . . . even more, you Yankee son of a . . . AH!”

“If it's punishment you've got in mind, it occurs to me that a bit of fucking might do the job nicely,” Taylor said.

“Didn't you hear her?” Alan continued to pound. “She wants it.”

Rose glanced up and froze at the slow, sadistic smile spreading over Taylor's face. “Perhaps she should be more careful about what she wishes for. I think the sensation of two cocks sliding into her tight little holes might be . . .” he hesitated, and the smile widened, “an embarrassment of riches.”

•   •   •

A
lan rocked back on his booted heels and watched Rose squirm in the harness that held her suspended from the ceiling. The leather straps circled her waist and shoulders, and her knees were drawn up to her chest and clipped to the straps. Her hands were lashed together and bound over her head to the same ceiling hook that held the harness.

The position left her pink sex spread wide and ready below her kicking calves as she writhed in the harness—a tight, delectably helpless package, ready for male pleasure. “Inventive rig,” he commented.

Taylor eyed their struggling captive with satisfaction. “Yes, it does solve a multitude of problems. She can be penetrated any way that suits with a minimum of awkwardness. And, of course, she can be flogged just as easily.”

Rose's dark eyes glittered at them over her gag; Alan could almost feel the burn of her rage. She'd been so bitter and vocal in her objections that Taylor had buckled a length of leather over her mouth to silence her.

Frowning, Alan moved closer and reached to probe between her thighs. Despite her earlier complaints, the delicate lips felt slick and dewed with desire. He felt his cock pulse in lust. Slipping a finger deeply into her channel, Alan lifted his head to meet her dark eyes. They looked vague and hot with hunger. Suddenly she jumped, a muffled sound escaping from the gag.

“I've always loved a tight female ass,” Taylor said from behind her. “I don't know about you, McReynolds, but I am more than ready to begin.”

Alan swallowed. “Yeah. So am I.” He reached for his fly.

Breathing hard through her nose, Rose watched Alan free his beautifully erect cock. The harness put brutal pressure on her armpits, and her doubled pose made it difficult to breathe, but her drug-induced desire was so great, she didn't care. The need to feel Alan thrust into her devoured Rose.

Eyes glittering, her lover stepped between her wide-spread thighs. Staring into her face, he touched her sex with the broad, smooth head of his organ, then dragged it back and forth through her desperate slit. Her core seemed to open and clench as if reaching for him. Unable to help herself, Rose made a muffled, pleading sound behind her gag.

Alan smiled slowly. Then, with a skillful twist, he drove into her. She caught her breath at the feeling of her needy tissues spreading hungrily around his hard satin organ. He drew in a hissing breath and his eyes slid closed. Big hands closed over her hips, holding her still as he began a forceful hunching. She wanted to reach for him, but her bound hands could only clench at one another.

With a greedy growl, Alan buried his face in the curve of her throat and nibbled and sucked at the taut flesh as he gored her in long strokes. She quivered helplessly as his big shaft sated the hunger that had tormented her since Taylor had anointed her with that demonic cream.

A pair of broad hands closed over her hard nipples to pluck and twist them. “MMmmm. Nice, eh?” Taylor purred in her ear. “All that cock in your hungry little cunt. But what about your ass? As I remember, I greased your tiny bung pretty thoroughly, too . . .”

His hands tightened painfully on her breasts, immobilizing her. Something blunt and smooth probed at her anus. “Luckily, I've got just what you need.”

Rose whined behind her gag as his massive length began to penetrate her. Alan paused, buried deep, to allow Taylor to complete her impalement.

Slowly the Union captain drove his organ deeper into Rose's asshole until, at last, she was completely stuffed with hard male flesh. She gasped helplessly, unable to breathe, trapped and gored.