Sir stepped around me and shackled Jared into the same position as I was held. Arms and legs spread. Then he took the flogger from Mistress’
hand and came back to me. He looked me in the eye, his glittering a steely blue behind his black mask.
“Is it your wish to continue, Sheri? To let me show you the freedom of your submission?”
“Yes, Sir,” I answered without an ounce of trepidation. For months, I’d fantasized about this. About finding my subspace—of losing myself to my Dom—even if that Dom wasn’t Jared.
He nodded. “Then we begin.”
He lifted his hand and ran his gloved palm from my neck down between my breasts. The cool, buttery leather slid over my heated skin, making me tingle all the way to my core. Lower he trailed his hand, over my ribcage, stomach, but stopped short of my pussy. He stepped to my side, sliding his fingers over my hip, up my side, which tickled me, though I fought not to squirm. Then he flicked his index finger over my right nipple, and I jerked in surprise at the intense flash of heat that sparked through me. It surprised me that another man’s touch could do this to me. I really thought Jared was the only one I’d ever crave. I did not have a wandering eye, and even in my darkest fantasies, it was Jared inflicting the pain, the pleasure.
He leaned in and whispered, “You will receive everything you’ve asked for, Sheri. Is there anything you wish to discuss before we get under way?”
God, no. Do it. Do it now! I wanted to scream. I wanted the pain, the pleasure, everything he and Mistress had promised us as we sat at their dining room table and had dinner last week. I kept my voice even, though, as I said, “No, Sir.”
His fingers closed over my left nipple in a sharp, biting pinch, which he held.
I gasped.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Sir,” I moaned, and he released me.
When I glanced across to Jared, his heated gaze was on me. His lips were slightly parted, and from the rise and fall of his chest, he panted nearly as hard as I did. Then I realized why. Mistress had her hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it with long, slow pulls. His cock was hard, the tip flushed a deep red of his arousal.
My insides quivered, and my pussy clenched. He looked so good there, tied up, his rippled abs hard as he stared at me while another woman fucked him with her hand.
“You like watching my wife touch your husband?” Sir whispered in my ear.
His breath tickled the hair on the nape of my neck, making me shiver even as I nodded in answer. In the back of my mind, I thought I should experience some kind of resentment. Another woman had her hands on my husband’s dick, but I couldn’t find it in me. This was all so new and exciting. I wanted to experience it all. I wanted Jared to experience it, too. And seeing him so hard and sexy, unable to reach for him, made my cunt hot and needy.
“You think he likes watching me touch you?” That big hand closed over my breast, softly squeezing the pebbled nipple between two fingers.
Jared’s eyes widened, and his nostrils flared as he watched Sir fondle me.
I arched into the soft leather of his glove, silently begging for more than the gentle touch. “Yes, Sir.”
Jared obviously liked it. Who would have ever guessed? I’d always thought of him as the jealous type. Not obsessively possessive, but he didn’t like it when men flirted with me in front of him.
I licked my lips as I glanced down to see a drip of pre‐cum glistening on the tip of Jared’s cock. Damn it, he was going to get to come before I did. So not fair!
Just as Sir spoke softly to me, Mistress murmured to Jared. I couldn’t hear her words, but Jared responded with small nods or shakes of his head. Then mistress met my gaze and gave a catlike grin before she turned her head and nipped my husband’s nipple.
Jared growled and jerked.
My pussy creamed and throbbed.
Mistress switched to his other nipple. At the same time as she bit down on him, she slipped a cock ring over his shaft, all the way up to his balls, and tightened it.
I grinned with a little malice. So there. Try and come now, Jerry.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck,” Jared said on a groan as he pumped his hips into the air a couple of times, his head thrown back.
Mistress moved behind him, picked up a riding crop off the bench against the wall, and popped him on his ass. Hard. “You will not speak.”
Slap. “You will not move.” Slap. “You will not come unless given permission.” Slap.
With each strike of the riding crop, he jerked forward, his cock stabbing into the air in front of him as if seeking my cunt. Or Mistress’
hand.
Sir’s hand squeezed my breasts, alternating back and forth between them. The thin straps of the flogger teased the back of my right thigh, tickling, making me squirm. My cunt spasmed with each thrust of Jared’s hips, and I wanted Sir to touch me between the legs. Just a flick or two of that gloved hand would push me over the edge, I was sure. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d reached the pinnacle.
And then Sir struck me with the flogger. I screamed in surprise as the dozens of straps nipped the flesh of my upper thigh.
“Silence,” Sir commanded, and he pinched my breast.
I moaned and thrust my chest forward, squeezing my eyes shut to experience more, feel more.
“You like that, Sheri?”
“Yes, Sir,” I cried when he moved to my other nipple.
Another strike, this time to my other thigh, the snap and hiss of the flogger adding to the cerebral stimulation and the sensation of stinging heat. Then he moved away from me again, and I almost cried with the frustration. Just when it was getting good...
I opened my eyes and looked at my husband. His face was flushed.
His eyes dark and dangerous. A look I’d never before seen from him. It was a bit frightening, a lot thrilling. He looked as if, were he released right then, he’d attack me and fuck me as I’d only dreamed of. Hard, without finesse or technique.
Sir’s hand returned to my nipple, tweaking and twisting it. I hissed at the pain he caused, but couldn’t tear my gaze from Jared. Mistress stood beside him, trailing the leather tip of the riding crop over his bare chest and stomach, side and thighs. She whispered something in his ear, but never did he look away from me.
“Ouch!” I cried when the pinch to my breast sharpened to a pinpoint.
I was snapped on the ass with the flogger for my outburst, which turned into a moan of pleasure as the sharp pain from the nipple clamp he’d put on me eased into a dull throb that echoed the pulse in my cunt. A trickle of moisture slipped from my pussy and slicked my inner thigh.
Jared’s gaze dropped from my face to my breast to my middle. His nostrils flared again, as if he could smell my cream.
When Sir put on the other clamp, it didn’t come as quite the shock, and I merely breathed through the intense pinch until it, too, echoed out into a pleasurable throbbing.
“I see you enjoy the pain,” Sir muttered as he reached around me from behind and slid his hand up my inner thigh. His thumb flicked my clit once, making me push my hips against his hand, before he pulled away.
“Nice and wet,” he said, his voice louder, for Jared’s benefit I assumed. “Slick. Hot. Is your cunt nice and tight? Does it grip Jared’s cock like a fist when he makes you come?”
Jared actually whimpered, which drew my gaze back to him. He stared at Sir’s hand as it moved up my body.
“Answer me, Sheri,” Sir commanded. He tugged the chain between the clamps, refreshing the sharp ache in my nipples.
I gasped and nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Though I couldn’t quite remember the question.