Her Troika (The Complete Story) (Dominion Trust Book 2) (14 page)

“For what this life really means.” Lino turned toward the approaching woman. “Stop,
fulana
. Come over here now.”

Breanna slid to a stop, her damp hair swinging before her face. Sweat beaded her skin everywhere, and her constrained rib cage heaved as much as the cruel harness allowed. She looked from Kurt to Derek, then sidled slowly toward Lino. Her hands still pulled and twisted futilely at their bonds. Derek couldn’t help his eyes being drawn to her breasts, the prominent, erect pink nipples, the straps clutching them like a rough lovers hands might.

Lino took hold of her elbow and dragged her closer. He patted her flushed cheek. “Now, what do you do when your Master tells you to run?”

Her eyes studied the cruel Spaniard’s a moment. “I run.”

“Yes. And what do you do when any man gives you order?”

Her jaw clenched, and she glared at Lino. He shook her by the arm. “Tell us, or more whip,
fulana
.”

“I … obey.” Her mouth twisted as she said it, and despite the obvious distaste to her, Derek couldn’t help but smile at her.

Kurt chuckled. “Hates this part.”

“Show your Masters what happens to filly who disobeys.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t … ”

Lino stepped close to her giving one of her breasts a sharp slap. She hissed and tried to back away, Lino’s grip on her elbow staying her.

“This is second time you have spoken without permission,
fulana
. You know better.”

She glared at him again, her eyes narrowing. Then she looked away, her cheeks flaming once more.

“She still fights, even though she knows.” Lino placed a palm on her chest between her breasts. “In here, she knows already.”

“Knows what?” Derek couldn’t take his eyes from her face, watching the emotions warring within her.

Lino grinned. “What she will become. What she already is, inside.”

Derek wanted to hold her, to comfort her, no matter how inappropriate that might be — even if she had chosen all of this. Yet he wanted so much more than that — including seeing where this all might lead. Maybe it might mean he was a closet sadist, but the lump in his throat, his dry mouth, and his impossibly hard, aching cock told him he very much wanted to see what came next, to open more doors into this new world.

To see how dark his soul might be.

“Show them,” Lino said, unclipping the crop at his belt. “
Ahorita
.”

Reluctantly, she turned. Her buttocks were just as round and gorgeous as they’d looked in the skirts he’d always seen her wearing — and imagining what lay beneath. The tight clasp of the harness emphasized the curves of her hips. Two lines, one much more livid than the other, cut ragged pink tracks across the slopes of her ass, just crossing at her left hip.

“Bend over more,
fulana
. Do it.”

Her plump pussy could be seen as she bent further, the darker pink line of the inner labia peeking between the swollen, smooth outer lips, her tightly clenched thighs failing to hide her charms from their gaze. Derek’s hand itched to ease a palm over the soft, hot center of her.

Kurt stepped forward, his hand stroking her bottom. He bent over her murmuring something in her ear, and her hips swayed closer to him, seeking his touch. Then he gave her ass a light smack, and with a quick kiss to the back of her head, left her alone once more.

“This is what happens to fillies who disobey. They are punished.” Lino smacked her ass, hard, a livid palm print blooming on her right ass cheek. She staggered with a yelp, but regained her position. “That is for your failure to follow command. No hesitation,
fulana
.”

Derek could see the cords of her hamstrings were rigid, her thighs trembling with fatigue. The straps from her black boots snaking around her calves lent her normally tanned skin a vulnerable paleness he found rather appealing. Her bound hands at the small of her back clasped together, the fingers pressed so hard the flesh shone white.

Kurt sighed, a broad smile on his face, his gaze glued to his wife’s displayed backside. “Never get tired of seeing that. Could look at that all day.”

Lino let the men drink in her femininity a moment longer, then pulled her back to a stand, turning her to face them once more. She looked down at the ground once more, her hair plastered to her sweaty face. Kurt reached out, smoothing the tresses back from her cheeks, pulling one strand from the corner of her mouth. She smiled at him and kissed his wrist as he tucked it behind her ear.

“Be good, now,” Kurt murmured, stepping back once more.

Lino fixed his basilisk gaze on her, the breeze kicking up, rustling the black curls at his brow. “We will see later about your talking. You will never be let off,
fulana
. It is against rules, and you will be punished for that too.

Breanna’s gaze lifted, and she glanced at both of the men from under dark eyebrows, avoiding Lino’s eyes entirely.

“Wait here,” Lino said.

They watched him move off, disappearing around the corner of one of the new outbuildings that crowded one side of the track.

“Well, pretty fucking intense, right?” Kurt nudged Derek with an elbow. “Now do you see why I kept everything so quiet?”

Derek watched Breanna’s chest shudder with each breath, her breasts moving with each inhalation. He wanted to cradle their weight in his palms, suck hard on each of those long nipples. Make them his, make all of her
his
. “If you’d told me even half of this, I’d have never believed your ass. No way in hell.”

“We haven’t even gotten started, dude.” Kurt looked back over his shoulder toward where Lino had gone. “He really gets into things. Deep into things. It’s wacky shit.”

“Wackier than this? Worse than harnessing up a grown woman and treating her like a dumb animal?” Derek inwardly cringed, realizing they’d been talking about this without even acknowledging her presence. He glanced over at her. “I’m sorry, Breanna. I didn’t … yeah, I’m an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, not looking up at him. “Kurt’s right, this is what I wanted. But … ”

“What?” Derek stroked her shoulder, still not used to touching her freely, but needing her to know he was on her side somehow. Why he thought there were “sides” here at all, made zero sense. But nothing else made sense here either.

“I just, this is even more than I thought—”

“Lino’s coming back, girl.” Kurt stepped close. “Remember the rules. Don’t make us tell your trainer.”

Lino was ambling back from around the building, a coiled length of brown leather hanging from his belt, making him look like some sort of ranch hand or cattle rustler

She shivered. “Sorry, Sir.”

“It’ll be our little secret, girl.” Kurt’s eyes flashed. “But I’ll be collecting my payment later on today.”

Breanna gasped, her face flaming.

“I’ll protect you from your asshat husband,” Derek said, glancing over at him with a scowl. “I don’t know whose side he thinks he’s on here.”

“I don’t think she wants to be saved, Derek.” Kurt quirked an eyebrow. “Quite the contrary, in fact.”

She smiled at Derek, nibbling her lower lip. The beauty of her smile had his heart soaring and his cock jumping. Something needed to be done about that. And fast.

“Now, time for next lesson.” Lino clipped the length of leather to Breanna’s collar, holding it close to her throat, and pulling her along. He looked at both men in turn. “Ready?”

“What, there’s more?” Derek rubbed the back of his head. “Man, this shit is heavy.”

Kurt slapped a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Like I said, my friend. You have no idea.”

Chapter Thirteen

P
ast the new buildings where Breanna wondered what new ordeals awaited, Lino led her back to the barn, and over to the common area the men had first examined her in. At first she thought he meant to lace her back into that suspension harness and string her up from the ceiling once more. Instead, it appeared he had other plans.

“Hold please,” Lino said, handing the leash to a surprised looking Derek.

Lino went to the back wall and threw some sort of switch or breaker, the sound a loud, jarring snap. A bright spotlight shone down from the darkness of the rafters, illuminating a spot on the earth floor just in front of where the harness hung suspended, menacing.

“Mr. Kurt, please assist.”

Lino and her husband slid a trestle of smooth lacquered wood across the floor until it stood directly under the light. The trestle reached to approximately waist height, its apex a broad top of dark leather. It resembled, disconcertingly, a saddle, the seat well worn by use.

Breanna backed away, almost without thinking, the leash coming up taut in Derek’s hand. All three men looked at her, puzzlement in the eyes of Derek and her husband, steel in the gaze of the cruel Spaniard’s.

Kurt’s expression darkened, his voice a deep growl. “Breanna.”

“Please, don’t make me …” She shook her head sharply, fearing what she knew was coming, yet wanting it more
because
she feared it.

“Still you talk?” Lino gave a dejected shake of his head. “You must learn. This is good for Mr. Derek too. To see what happens.”

Lino’s hand beckoned. “Over.”

She froze, her gaze fixated on the leather of the trestle, how the varnish of the legs caught the light. It was a lovingly cared for apparatus … of pain.

“Now,
fulana
.”

Kurt met her gaze, his eyes narrowing. “Do as he says.”

She pressed her hips to the cool leather, and bent over. In the boots, she found the top of the trestle was slightly lower than waist level after all. Without the use of her hands, made worse by the way the wedge soles threw her weight onto the balls of her feet, she couldn’t get the balance right in order to lie down over the leather.

She looked back at the men, their expressions unreadable, Derek’s eyes solidly zeroed in on her ass. Finally, she accepted the inevitable, and fell forward onto her belly, the air pushing from her lungs in a grunt.

Lino knelt down at her side, and she felt strong fingers encircle her leg above the top of one of the boots. She heard a metallic snap and looked under the trestle to see what had been done.

“Move your legs.” Lino stood. “Go on, try,”

She couldn’t separate her feet, the boots now linked together at the ankle. All she could do was raise her legs in tandem, which put all of her weight uncomfortably on her belly. No, she’d definitely be leaving them on the ground.

“Jesus, she’s …” Derek’s voice held a note of near awe.

“Fucking incredible is what she is, ” Kurt said, a hand landing painfully on her right ass cheek with a loud smack. “Look at those long legs too.”

A hand smoothed down one thigh, and up the other, making her shiver, the touch like electricity over her skin. “This is good choice for her,” Lino said, fingers kneading the taut cords of her hamstrings. “She is thin, but we will work her. A filly must have strong legs. Hers will be too, with time.”

She didn’t have time to be mortified at the way she was no doubt displayed, though thankfully she hoped the lips of her pussy might not be so blatantly visible with her legs clamped together. But the men weren’t done.

“Breanna,” Kurt said, raising his voice slightly. “Pull your legs under you. No, keep them straight, don’t bend your knees.”

She was glad for the hair hanging all around her head, for it and her position hid her furious blush. With the new position, her hips were significantly higher than the top of the trestle, her upper body sloping down, her breasts almost hanging in her face. There was no way she could hide anything now, the air cool on her exposed sex.

“That’s better, girl,” Kurt rumbled. “Now we can see that pretty cunt of yours, too.”

“God … damn.” Derek’s voice had dropped to a murmur.

“With that harness too, it makes her ass look so round like this. Very nice.” Another harsh smack landed on her buttocks, roasting the left cheek this time, forcing a whimper from her lips. She yanked at the straps holding her hands at her back, forgetting again that her arms were bound fast. She wasn’t sure which upset her most: the total helplessness of her position, or the fact that the men could now easily spot her blatant arousal, the heat in her pussy rising by the second. She loved being rendered helpless in Kurt’s hands, but never thought she’d be turned on by … other men, too.

Lino moved to a darkened corner, opening a tall, wooden cabinet, swinging the door wide. She stifled a whimper at what she saw.

“We will start light, as she is new.” Lino’s fingers deftly unhooked a broad length of caramel colored leather.

“Quite the, uh, armory,” Derek said. “Do you reenact The Inquisition in your spare time?”

Breanna almost burst out laughing. Derek’s snark was, in an odd way, a comfort. Levity lent brief relief to the serious, atmosphere, the dread at the pain that that strap looked capable of inflicting.