Her Troika (20 page)

“No, not all of them. You see all kinds of things, actually. I haven’t really seen a lot of them yet, but what I have seen — damn, it’s incredible.”

“More incredible than turning your wife into a — what did you call it?”

“Ponygirl.” Kurt chuckled. “Yeah, you think this shit is kinda ‘out there’, right? Derek, this is just the tip of the iceberg. And
I
don’t even know all of it yet.”

What else is there to know?

“Maybe you’ll fill me in when it’s a good time then. So I don’t drop dead in shock next time you spring some shit on me, ninja style.”

“Hey, I’m seeing some of this for the first time too, so it’s not just you in for a surprise once in awhile.” Kurt winked, the sun emphasizing the tanned angle of his square jaw. “But I’ll share whatever you want to know.”

“Do you fuck the other … women?” He almost called them ‘Termers’ then thought better of it, the word sounding like something he’d hear in prep school.

“Nope — Breanna is the only one I touch.” He looked to Derek with a glint in his eye. “That doesn’t mean you can’t.”

“I … what the hell do you mean by that?” He didn’t really know how he felt about the outlandish idea. He already felt possessive of Breanna, as fucked up as that was.

“Any man at this farm — any authorized man — can touch any of the … women. The ones serving a Term.”

“She knows that?”

“You heard me in there after she got her spanking, didn’t you?”

“Well I—”

“Shut up, you must’ve been standing there awhile, right?” Kurt drummed his fingers along the top rail of the fence. “Any of the women here, they know what they’re getting into. When they go up for a Term — it’s anything goes.”

“Anything?”

“If one of the grooms wants to take her out for a morning run then bend her over a fence and whip her ass raw for all to see, she’ll do it. She’s got no choice in the matter as soon as she agrees to the Term. If there is a visiting Owner who happens by while she’s getting her whipping, he’s free to watch, give her a little bit of leather himself — even fuck her, if he wants.”

“Jesus H. Like a sex slave amusement park.”

Kurt laughed. “Definitely. Look Lino’s going to need help, I’ll bet. If I’m guessing correctly, there’ll be more than a few here over the next few months. I’m told use of the training facilities increases during the summer for women serving a Term. Think about it, anyway.”

“You don’t know how much this place is actually used? This is your property right?”

“Yep — but this is the first year it’s been used … for this.” Kurt quirked an eyebrow. “It’s been, ah, upgraded.”

Breanna passed by once more, sweat beading upon her skin, a sheen of it bright at her forehead and on her upper lip, her long blonde hair dark with it, the single thick ponytail — another word Derek would never think of the same way again — swinging in the breeze. Lino’s whip snapped at her legs twice, then a third time, hard enough to wring a pained squeal from her. She brought her knees up so high they almost brushed the undersides of her swaying breasts.

“Almost done,
fulana
. Keep knees high. Walk proud.”

“Fuck, I already want her again,” Kurt rumbled, his gaze glued to the spectacle of his wife, toiling to the tune of the whip. “This is harder on us than it is on her!”

“What do you mean, ‘us’? Speak for yourself.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “You can’t hide the fucking billy club you’re packing in your jeans, idiot. You’re not kidding anybody here.”

It wasn’t that Derek didn’t want her. Christ, he did. But he still felt … awkward, freely expressing lust for Kurt’s wife. He knew had had to figure out a way to get past it, but it was so fucking wrong on so many levels, it was going to take some time to reprogram pretty much every thing he’d ever known

“Do you have any idea how long he’s going to keep her doing that?” Derek wiped stinging sweat from the corner of his eye. “It’s been a helluva day for her.”

“Not much longer, I hope,” Kurt said, wincing. “She needs some rest. We need … relief.”

The feeling came again, like that of being a teenager, of pure, overpowering lust, flowing through his veins. Whatever strange power this place had, he knew he was nearly lost to it, and increasingly, he didn’t want to fight it anymore. Sometimes good things … just happened. Once in awhile, fortune smiles on a man plagued with more than his share of shitty luck.

As he watched Lino call Breanna to a halt and unhook her from the chain, he wondered just when his good luck would finally run out.

Lino brought her over to them, his finger hooked in the thick hook where the chain had been attached to her collar. Her head hung down, and her chest heaved even within the cruel confines of the harness. Dust was caked to her long legs, the fronts of her thighs marked with a stray pink line from a whip tip that had wrapped around from the back. Derek took in the alluring curves of her breasts as they rose and fell before them, the pink tips hard, prominent.

Lino stroked one of the nipples, making her shudder, then looked to both men in turn. “Enough for today. Time to clean her up — and to show you next part of your duties.”

Kurt and Derek glanced at each other. “Duties?”

Her haunted eyes looked up through the fringe of her hair, her mouth open as she breathed in great gusts of air.

“Your work not done just because hers is.” Lino tweaked her nipple, then led her stumbling, exhausted form to the exit gate. “You are her grooms now. And there is much more to learn.”

Chapter Eighteen

S
he didn’t fully realize how exhausted she was until her arms were hoisted overhead once more. They’d taken her to another room — this time in the new outbuilding next to the track. Most of it was tiled in white, the smell of new paint, grout, and plaster still strong. They’d stood her in the middle of the room. A drain was in the center of the floor, the tiles sloping gently toward it. Sweat poured off her body in the close, humid space.

Behind her was a long ledge, spanning the width of the entire room, jutted from the back wall at approximately waist height, it too covered in flat white tile. Winches were bolted to the ledge at either end, chain and leather dangling menacingly from the machinery. Above, a long shelf of stained wood overflowed with various bottles, brushes, hoses and small packages. In the far corner were other pieces of equipment, the shadows shrouding it preventing her from making out any detail. A gleaming metal shower assembly with several attachments was mounted to the wall at one end of the ledge.

As she stood there, the manacles around her wrists attached to a chain threaded through a hook in the ceiling, Lino worked at the harness, unsnapping straps, loosening ties, steadily lessening the harness’ cruel grip on her body.

“This is very important.” Lino turned his back to her, and addressed Derek and Kurt. “Filly must be kept clean after her work or training. Before anything else, she must be cleaned.”

Filly?

Lino turned and pulled the harness completely from her body, shaking her slightly as he did. The feel of fresh air on her bare skin was heaven, despite the stifling humidity.

He unsnapped the heavy collar, and though she welcomed the bliss of air circulating against the skin of her neck once more, something about the collar being taken away felt … off.

The thought disturbed her in a way she wasn't sure she could conceptualize. At least not yet. In the recesses of her consciousness, the meaning lurked, just out of reach, like memory on the tip of the tongue that refuses to be recalled. A ghost in your mind — something there, yet not there.

Then she found out why the room was tiled. The spray hit her back in a hard, thin line. At first she couldn't tell whether it was too hot or too cold, but she cried out regardless, the shock of it too much to bear.

"Shh. Only warm water." Lino's hand stroked her wet shoulder. "Be still now."

She watched the men watching her, the glint in their eyes plain, the clenched jaws, the way their shirts strained over powerful shoulders, and muscular chests. The water played over the tight muscles of her upper back first, and soon she acclimated, her skin breaking out in tingling goose bumps as the jet found new flesh to soak, to massage.

"Ahh, God … ” She knew it would likely get her in trouble, but it felt too good to keep quiet about it.

"Can you believe this?" Derek's eyes glanced from her body to Kurt, then back to her again, drinking in her nudity, her helplessness.

Oddly, that helplessness — at least now — didn't bother her as much. Nothing bothered her as long as that heavenly water kept washing over her body.

Soon the spray reached the stiff muscles of her lower back, and loitered there, coursing over them repeatedly, until she sagged in her bonds, the soft cuffs taking her weight for a moment.

Lino's hand squeezed her upper arm firmly. "Stand up. Don't hang."

“Why?” she whispered, the tone of her voice embarrassingly plaintive. What was left of her strength seemed to be washing down the drain with that lovely warm water, and she simply didn’t have the energy to keep up her facade of stoicism.

"Your wrists. Up,
fulana
." He slapped her breast, and she jerked, getting her feet back under herself once more. "That's good."

"I could watch this ... forever," Kurt murmured, his eyes hooded, his strong jaw clenching.

Heat stirred in her sex at the sight, at the words. Being wanted, especially by Kurt, never failed. She wanted to be desired, even if it was a rough, possessive desire. Maybe even more so because of it.

Kurt's eyes scanned her body, never once meeting her gaze. At any other time, it might have irritated her; here, in this place, she expected it. She
was
her body, here. She was here for them, to give them pleasure — whether it was to fuck her whenever the urge took them, or to take the pleasure of watching her breasts bounce as she ran on the track, finding a dark joy in her subjugation. It made no sense to her that such a thing turned her on — and oh Christ, did it — but here, with these two amazing men, with this cruel, implacable trainer, nothing needed to make sense.

Here there was only submission, surrender — and lust.

"Turn her, Lino." Derek waved a hand, his reluctance apparently gone now. "I want to see her ass."

Lino's chuckle, soft and evil, made her tremble, even as her clit stood up, throbbing, her sex growing hotter by the second.

He didn't ask her to turn, rather he grasped her shoulder and spun her — so fast she almost lost her balance, the bonds at her hands the only thing preventing her from falling over, her breasts swinging on her chest. She was momentarily thankful they couldn't see them, even as she worried about what they could see now.

It didn't matter how many compliments Kurt gave her. It didn't matter that Derek, whose handsomeness was rapidly soaring into the stratosphere, had specifically wanted to see her ass. Maybe he wanted to see it
because
he knew she was shy about it? Maybe he reveled in her embarrassment, her shame at buttocks that, no matter how many countless hours she spent in the gym, were never as small, never as trim as she'd wanted. Could he actually enjoy that? Take pleasure in her mortification? The thought itself should have horrified her — maybe it would have in any other context — but now, things were murkier. Confused. The idea that he'd be turned on, would derive sexual pleasure from her embarrassment, even her humiliation ... did something to her. She knew the Term would involve plenty of humiliation — the auction itself saw to that — but she thought she'd been ready for it. Being exposed to others, forced to show her naked body, had forever been a dark, twisted fantasy of hers, but it was always centered on her feelings, her thoughts, and her desires.

That a man might be excited by it, that he might force her to experience more, maybe even worse humiliation, was unexpected — and strangely, surprisingly alluring.

To be turned on because
h
e was. It confused her, but instinctively, she wanted to see where it went, to discover if she had the courage to follow the path he and Kurt seemed eager to make her walk.

The stream of water attacked her vulnerable buttocks, and she tensed with a hiss at the shock of pain every time the water sprayed over her still surprisingly sore ass. The earlier spanking from her husband, as wonderful as it was, as much as it made her pussy drip, had been a hard one indeed. And the amount of pain awoken in her flesh by mere water told her all she needed to know about how her ass was likely to feel for the next few days.

The thought of that pain, that he’d
given
that to her quite intentionally, made her womb clench, an uncoiling beginning deep in her belly.

“You wailed on her ass, dude,” Derek said, with a laugh. “Save some for the rest of us.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Kurt’s voice said. “Now you’re seeing it. Now you’re feeling it.”

A hand palmed her left asscheek, squeezing gently, making her wince. “Very sore, Mr. Kurt. I have something for this after.”