Her eyes were focused on Aaron’s hand. More specifically, on the whip that he now held. He must have felt the weight of her gaze, because he flicked his wrist, making the leather flails snap.
She lifted her gaze to him, trying to keep her lip from quivering and failing. “What…” She swallowed hard. “What are you going to do?”
“Just stand right there. Be as still as possible.”
She glanced at Chandler. Her sexy cowboy daddy. Looking at him, with his arms folded across his chest, his face somehow stern and tender toward her all at once, seeing his genuine concern helped her steel herself for what was to come.
And then there was Aaron. She looked at him, letting her eyes trace his pecs, his toned, flat stomach, his delectable abs…
They both cared about her. She could see it, even though Aaron’s jaw was clenched; she knew he just wanted to do a good job.
And his job is making sure I remember to do what I’m told. She internally repeated the words he’d told her just before he’d taken off his shirt—revealing a tanned, toned, and mouth-watering six-pack—and shown her the whip.
“Do I need to tie you?” he’d asked, trailing the head and the leather flails down her arm.
“N-no,” she’d answered haltingly. She’d looked for Chandler then, too, locking gazes with him and finding the strength she needed in his eyes. “I can do it.” She saw him smile, felt the warmth of it fill her, and she’d moved her gaze back to Aaron. “I-I want to make you proud of me.”
Chyanne felt a shiver run over her skin, both at the cool air in the room and the promised punishment to come.
Then Chandler was undoing the button of her jeans. When he unsnapped the button, her eyes flew to his face.
He’s so handsome—so stern. Another shiver that had nothing to do with the cold rippled through her. And speaking of stern… Her eyes flitted over to her master. He was watching her with taut muscles and a face that gave nothing away.
“Step out,” Chandler ordered as he pulled her jeans down.
She obeyed immediately and as soon as he freed each foot, he tossed the jeans aside.
They’d seen everything there was to see and more than once, but somehow she still felt embarrassed to be bared before them this way. She felt her face fill with humiliating heat, betraying her.
Chandler gave each cheek of her quivering backside a firm smack. “Now you’re all ready.”
She’d meant it when she’d promised to be a good girl. She really had. But now, as she stood naked in front of them, struggling with what she should do with her hands, she started having second thoughts. Finally, she moved them across her breasts.
Aaron made a sound low in his throat that was part whistle, part growl.
“What?” she asked, unable to keep herself from sounding defensive.
She glanced at Chandler, but his handsome face was unreadable, and she found no help there. She hesitantly uncrossed her arms and let them hang awkwardly at her sides. The air felt weighty with uncertainty and charged with her trepidation.
Not that she was afraid of Aaron. She wasn’t—but the whip he brandished with such confidence and authority, on the other hand…
The air whistled as the whip came lashing down on her right breast.
Her eyes widened as the pain pricked her tender skin. Before she could so much as utter an ow it came down again, just as hard, on the left breast.
“Hey!” she snapped, raising her arms to defend her poor, aching boobs.
Aaron’s eyes sparkled—dark and hard. And when he spoke, his voice matched that. “Move them.”
Sniffling, she let her arms fall inch by inch, but she had to clench her fists to keep them that way.
The flails fell again, and though they hadn’t felt particularly punishing at first, the longer they kept raining down, the more the pain built. And her stupid, traitorous right breast hardened as though it was aroused.
Chyanne’s entire body was confused. She could feel a ball of lust in the pit of her belly and her pussy pulsed with excitement. She pressed her legs together hoping to hide any evidence of her humiliating arousal.
She locked eyes with Aaron—God, they were like pools of molten chocolate. A shiver ran through her, and as though he’d seen it, the corner of his mouth lifted.
He brandished the whip, watching for a reaction.
Show no fear. She clenched her fists tighter at her sides, determined to appear just as casual as he did.
The flails bit into her tender skin, and her teeth dug into her bottom lip to keep from verbalizing the pain.
It stung. It ached. It throbbed.
And as her poor breast was punished, she couldn’t help but think of the other part of her that was throbbing, too. She knew she shouldn’t—giving into one thought led to another, and before long the hard slaps began to feel… different. Different in a way she’d never experienced before—in a way that proved that her body wasn’t the only thing confused. She was losing control of her mind, too.
Because as those wicked flails fell again, it almost felt… good. It added to the ache, it sent a pulse all the way from her breast to her womb. And she damn near tasted blood as she prevented herself from gasping.
I’m losing. She gazed into Aaron’s eyes, and she knew he knew it, too. His mouth was arched into a cocky smile that proved it.
Her fingernails dug into her tender palms as she refused to give in.
She squeezed her eyes shut, just barely swallowing back the cry that longed to break free. Equal parts plea and lust, it stayed trapped in her throat, but for how long?
And then there were hands behind her. Large, warm hands.
Her eyes snapped open just in time to see Aaron flick his wrist, making the whip lash out toward her. As it landed, whipping her poor, pebbled nipple, a growl lodged in her throat.
Then Chandler cupped her breast, kneading it gently between his strong, pliable fingers.
She was undone. The gentle pleasure after the punishing lashes made her unlock her mouth and moan after moan spilled forth.
Then his hand was gone, and her breast was cold for a second before the harsh flails punished it once more.
“Ahhhhggg,” she moaned, tears forming in her eyes.
Then Chandler’s fingers were back, gently stroking her tortured nipple. Were they loving? Cruel? How could she ever decide? As soon as they were removed, Aaron delivered swift, hard punishment.
“Please!” she pleaded, eyes squeezed tightly shut while her breast ached unbearably. “Please, no more.”
“Sorry, spitfire, we’ve just gotten started.”
Chyanne’s eyes snapped open, her brow furrowed and her lips turned down in a snarl as she glared daggers at him. “My name’s not—”
Before she could finish, before Aaron could even flick that horrible instrument of torture, Chandler reached over and flicked her nipple, hard.
A gasp wrenched from her and then her head was being tugged back by a firm hand on her hair. She looked up into Chandler’s earnest blue eyes. He looked impossibly stern. “I think you need to remember who’s in charge here, little girl.”
Surprised into silence by his blatant authority, she nodded meekly.
“I want to hear you say it,” he ground out.
Eyes widening, she stumbled over the words. “Y-you are, sir.”
He gave another firm, insistent tug, making her wince.
“I’m sorry. Sirs,” she amended softly.
He smiled and released her, even bending over to kiss the top of her head. “That’s my good girl.”
And in that moment, she truly felt like it. Like both a good girl, and his.
Something of her thoughts must have shown in her face, because Chandler bent once more, and this time his lips pressed firmly and insistently against hers. When he stood back up, her lips ached from the loss of him.
Chyanne straightened, feeling that more than her breast had been chastened. She made eye contact with Aaron once more, who’d been watching their exchange silently. “A-are we done, Master?”
His brow shot up and his grin widened, even as he shook his head. “‘Fraid not. We can’t risk stopping too soon and having you breaking more rules tomorrow.”
She nodded, disappointed but resigned, and waited.
She didn’t have to wait long before the whip lashed down, this time on her left breast. Beyond pretending now, she gasped with the sting. But as he continued to punish her breast in the same exact manner he’d done the right, something strange began to happen. With each flick of his wrist, each smack of those harsh leather flails to one of the most sensitive parts of her anatomy, the liquid gathering between her thighs became harder to conceal.
It’s all Goliath’s fault, she thought, her head dipped back as he alternated between massaging and plucking her poor, punished nipple. He didn’t stop even when her left one was being whipped, and it was a slow mingling of pleasure and pain that started off as a trickle, and as he continued whipping her, the pleasure-pain morphed into an all-out storm.
The storm was inside her, but as much as Chyanne prided herself on her ability to take control of whatever room she was in, to be the baddest bitch among all the boys, in this instance she had to acknowledge she controlled nothing. No, she was literally at their mercy and while mere minutes ago that had been so frustrating, now she felt her knees weakening. More than that, though, her will was bending, submitting to a stronger one than her own.
Theirs. She was theirs to punish or please as they saw fit, and she would be happy just to be allowed on the ride.
There’s a first time for everything, I suppose, she mused as Chandler thumped her nipple. He timed it perfectly so that his assault to her right nipple came at the same time as a lash from Aaron’s whip to her left.
She yelped and even gave a little hop. Immediately, her face flooded with heat as she felt moisture seep from her pussy and begin to slide down her leg.
Aaron was watching everything. She could see in his eyes that he’d seen not only that, but her humiliation. But he still didn’t stop. He punished her poor nipple twice more before he set down the whip. Then he strode toward her in purposeful steps.
She was trembling by the time he got there. Chandler’s hands had moved to her hips and he was holding her steady.
Her master gazed down at her, his eyes broody, demanding hard pieces of bronze. “One more toe out of line, Chyanne, and your pussy will be next to feel my whip.” He pierced her with his gaze. “Understand?”
She nodded vehemently. “I understand, Master.”
The hard line of his mouth still did not soften even as he said, “Good. You better, because I won’t tell you again. Now, you’re still being punished—”
“What?” she whined before she could think better of it. “But I—”
Before she could finish whatever complaint she’d been about to make, Chandler’s hand smacked the center of her ass, making her screech.
Aaron’s stern eyes bore into her while her lips trembled.
After a moment, she got herself under control and muttered, “Sorry, sirs.”
His firm nod was his only response before he continued. “You are being punished, so you do not get to come unless we give you permission. Is that clear?”
Chyanne’s mouth dropped open. She’d never heard of such a thing, and she hardly knew what to say. Well, actually, that part was easy: she knew what they wanted her to say, she just wasn’t sure she could keep her promise.
“I… I…” Feeling another spank coming, she cringed. “Please, I don’t know how to do that, sirs!”
Chandler chuckled in her ear. “Well, darlin’, you better learn.”
“Don’t worry,” Aaron added, his smile making her toes curl. “You have two teachers who are willing help you learn, no matter how many long, hard hours it takes.”
“Or how many times we have to teach that bottom we mean business,” Chandler whispered, making her shiver.
“Or maybe we need to teach your pussy?” Aaron’s grin was positively primal. “Either way, don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
“That’s a promise you can count on,” Chandler said, giving her breast a squeeze.
Then Aaron knelt and pulled her aching breast into his mouth.
I’m not going to be able to do this! her brain screamed frantically. I’m going to come! I’m going to come! I’m going—
His mouth was incredible. It was so cool and delicious, and as his tongue laved over the hurt his whip had caused, her pussy clenched.
“Please stop!” she blurted out, even though it was the last thing she wanted. “I’ll come! I’ll—”
“You better not,” Chandler ordered, taking her right cheek in his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Orgasms are for good girls.”
She shuddered at the chastisement in his voice, at the thought that if she could go back in time, she’d slap her past self that had thought it was a good idea to get out of her chore early. What a poor idiot that girl had been, and now she had to pay the price. Her poor pussy had to pay by weeping and not being satisfied.
His mouth was doing horrible, terrible things to her. Things that brought her to the brink of ecstasy until she thought she would surely go over.
Then he caught her nipple between his teeth, nipping it, and she couldn’t help herself.
It was a beautiful orgasm, too. Her body tensed, and then she felt a sensation rushing through her so powerfully as her muscles convulsed that she lost her footing. She even lost her sense of time and place for a blissful moment.
When she came back to her senses, however, she was cradled in Master’s lap with Daddy looking at her sternly, hands on his hips.
She immediately burst into tears. “I… I’m s-so so-rr-y! I didn’t m-mean to! I swear I d-didn’t!”
Much to her surprise, her master began to pat her back. “It’s okay.”
Her tears subsided a bit and she sniffled at him. “It… it is? You’re not mad at me?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, silently begging him to say they were okay. She’d even take a spanking if she had to; she just wanted them to not give up on her.
“No.” It was Daddy’s soft, soothing voice answering her.
Her eyes leapt to his face hopefully, and seeing the tenderness in his expression made her start crying all over again.
“What is it, honey?” He knelt down, brushing the tears from her cheeks while Master tightened his arm around her comfortingly.
“I… I d-don’t kn-know what I’m doing!” she confessed in a teary rush. “I… this is all s-so… new to me! I don’t want to di-di… disappoint you!”
Daddy shushed her gently while Master whispered comforting things in her ear. Daddy even scooched close so that he could cuddle her, too, and she was soon between both of their laps.
Her eyes were red and stinging, her breasts ached, and she had been on an emotional rollercoaster that would rival the thrill of any ride at Six Flags. Why then had she never felt happier?
“Chyanne… we need to ask you something.”
Sniffling, she swiped at her eyes. Then she looked from one man to the other. “What, sirs?”
Daddy smiled at her respectful title. “Are you a Little, honey? I mean, do you need a daddy, or…”
“Or a master?” Aaron finished gruffly.
Her brow furrowed for a moment. Then as the question hung in the air between them, she began to understand what they were really asking. Her eyes moved back and forth between them and she looped an arm around each man’s neck. “I need you both. I… I don’t… I think… I’m hard to handle,” she said at last, unable to vocalize everything she wanted to say.
And then she waited, holding her breath as she felt them looking at one another. The truth was, Chandler was a mountain of a man, but had the tenderest heart of anyone she’d ever met. She would have run right over him if not for the double-whammy of answering to a master, too.
And Aaron… lean, hard, model-gorgeous Aaron… she couldn’t help but wonder if even he would have gotten to her like this all on his own. Somehow, she didn’t think so. Even if he’d managed to make her obey, he never would have gotten to the heart of her, never would have gotten her to the point she was at now: wanting to submit, wanting to earn their praise and rewards, wanting to be their girl. A girl they were proud of.
She’d been holding her breath so long she began to worry that she might pass out when Chandler finally said, “You’re right. You need us both. And we both need you.”
She felt Aaron’s firm, insistent squeeze on her arm and knew he agreed.
Truth was, Aaron had never been much good at sharing. His mom had despaired of it all his life, honestly, until he’d moved out. Even now, as he watched Chandler carry Chyanne to the bedroom, there was a part of him that wanted her all to himself.
What man wouldn’t? She was drop-dead gorgeous, a spitfire, and somehow so much fun. But he’d seen the look on her face when she’d been afraid of losing one of them. And if Chyanne needed them both, well, his heart had begun making room for her from the day he’d met her. If it was the way to keep her, he’d learn to share.
Besides, Chandler was a cool dude and he definitely brought out things in her Aaron didn’t know how to.
His tenderness toward her as he laid her stomach-first on the bed was evident. Then, with careful, quick fingers he parted her cheeks. With one finger, he lubed up her tight, puckered hole. With the other hand, he pushed in the jeweled butt plug. He was slow and methodical, as careful as possible, but she still arched her back and mewled.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Almost done.”
Aaron could hear when it popped into place, and his cock throbbed with want.
“Wh-why did you do that?” she asked, panting.
He couldn’t tell if she was in pain, or so horny she was close to losing her mind. Either way, with her hair splayed over the pillow, her green eyes wide and hazy with lust, it was a good look. The large, faux pink sapphire protruding from her most private hole was just the icing on the booty cake.
“So you can focus on the fact that you’re being punished, baby girl,” Chandler answered.
Her eyes went back and forth between the two of them, then she inhaled deeply and nodded.
As Aaron drew closer, Chandler withdrew.
“Remember,” Aaron said softly. “You are still being punished. This is for my pleasure, not yours. Do you understand?”
Her eyes grew wider still, and he swore he could see her thoughts in those emerald depths. She was turned on to the point of pain, but she still nodded and whispered, “Yes, Master.”
His cock hardened as though it was trained to the sound of her voice. Feeling her eyes on him, watching his every move, he slowly unzipped his fly and let his cock spring free.
Chyanne swallowed, visibly aroused, but still and submissive.
Well, well, well. Did we tame the fiery redhead after all? He spared Chandler a look and saw that he, too, was turned on.
He held his arms open, and she was quick to scamper toward him and climb into his embrace. What she didn’t see coming was being speared by his cock. He watched as her face flooded with surprise, and then wonder.
God, she felt good in his arms. As he held her around the waist, she wrapped her legs around him, and he rocked her back with his cock nestled deep inside her.
Her soft, kissable lips formed a smile. He was unable to resist them, but when he leaned down he bit her bottom lip, and swallowed the sound of her gasp. Then his tongue flicked across her mouth, soothing the hurt he’d caused.
“Only I get to bite that naughty lip from now on—understand?” he growled.
“Yes… yes, Master.”
No answer was needed except to rock her back again. He got into a rhythm, thrusting in and out, holding onto her hips all the while. They were not gentle, but hard, stern pushes, reminding her who he was. Reminding her what she could expect if she ever chose to disobey again.
With every single thrust, he knew the plug in her ass would throb and ache. If she’s a very, very good girl, maybe we’ll take it out so she can sleep tonight, he mused.
His eyes raked over her as he shoved his cock deeper inside her wet channel.
She gasped and cried out, but a fraction of a moment later, there was a wince of pain.
He loved watching the emotions play out on her face, loved guessing what she was thinking. And with each steadied, demanding thrust, he felt his balls tighten. With each smack of their bodies making contact, his orgasm drew closer.
He lifted her, pulling her away, then plunging her once more onto his cock.
She groaned. “Please, Master,” she whimpered. “Please. I need to—”
“No,” he cut her off brusquely. “Only good girls get to come. Remember that.”
Chyanne made a pitifully sad face that a lesser man might have given into. But when she saw that he was not that man, she nodded and went soft and pliable in his arms.
Her submission only made him harder. Made him want her more. He drove his cock into her again and again, this time with one goal in mind.
Chyanne mewled and arched her back, throwing her head back and looking at Chandler.
And seeing her like that, spread out between them—their submissive, their baby girl—was the final push he needed. He dove harder, further inside of her, and felt his release. He grunted as with a final tingle his balls emptied and he spurted hot semen into her willing pussy.
Aaron pulled her off of him and laid her on the bed before curling up beside her, spooning her to him. He was panting and tired, but the smell of her soft skin, the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, soothed him.
1/4 baby girl… 1/2 sub… whatever she is, I don’t care. He reached out an arm and pulled her closer. She’s fucking perfect for me.