“Bend over,” he said, his voice now hard, icy cold. “Spanking position.”
She grabbed her ankles and thrust her butt up in the air.
He ran his palm down her globe, patting her bottom before he said, “No. No. No. This isn’t right. I want them to see your ass. Turn the other way and bend over far enough for them to see your pussy lips.”
Her heart beat a little faster as she thought about revealing herself to Brandon’s brothers, to men she knew, to men she’d considered her family, to men she’d even admitted to wanting in her bed at various times. Two of those men had obviously expressed their interest in her as well.
“Bend all the way down,” Brandon said, patting her cheek when she obliged. “See, brothers. This is the finest piece of ass in all of Tennessee right here.” He stroked her bottom. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I know it’s so,” Kurt said, a guttural voice so deep and carnal it resonated with his desire. “But I don’t have to show her off. That’s the difference between you and me.”
Liam agreed with Kurt. Zak and Hales remained silent, perhaps refusing to comment because of the tension in the room. Their remarks didn’t matter anyway. What mattered then was the spanking, the punishment, the joy of knowing Brandon cared enough to issue her punishment before he dismissed her.
The whip flipped and the sudden wind in the air made her brace for impact. Whish! Whish! Whish!
“Oh God!” Her head flung forward and she cried out as the burn seeped into her skin. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her ass throbbed. Her cunt was incredibly tender. Her nipples spiked and the fullness in her breasts made her desire more impact, true corporal punishment. This moment was a memory in the making. His brothers were watching. Kurt was seeing her as Brandon had seen her. “One more, please. One. Just one, Sir.”
“What would you do for one more, sub?”
“I’ll suck your cock and then fuck you or your brothers while you watch. Anything, Sir.”
Coco was a pain junkie. She got off on the pain.
“All those promises for just one more lick?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her breasts were sore now. If she didn’t think Kurt would kill Brandon, she’d ask him to spank her pussy and whip her breasts, but she knew Kurt wouldn’t stand by and watch what he would deem abuse.
Yet. She. Still. Craved. The. Whippings!
“Since you may never have such pleasure and pain again, I think three more will do nicely.”
She sighed and anticipated that first strike. The expectation then was everything. It was like a lover summoning her to bed, the promise of a day-long fuck delivering the most intimate message. It was a promise and a curse but one she needed more than she needed water or air.
Whish! Whish! Whish!
Her mouth fell open and she gasped, unable to breathe then as the burning sensation around her buttocks and lower belly became neutralized to the area where the whip had struck. Empowered. That’s what these spankings did for her. She felt completely empowered by her submission.
In the moment, she realized she would never outright deny Brandon. He was her Dominant, her Sir. She was still his submissive until he released her, until he dismissed her once and for all.
“Can I suck your cock now, Sir?” Maybe if she showed him how much she’d missed him, how good they were together, how well she could please him, he wouldn’t move forward with her imminent dismissal. Perhaps he would enjoy her more with an audience particularly if he believed she was giving him something special and remarkable, viewers to watch how well she pampered him, how much she cared for him. How good they were together.
Kurt frowned as if he didn’t understand what was happening. She would explain it later or ask Brandon to teach him what she liked, show him what she needed.
Brandon unhooked his slacks, pulled free his meaty cock, one she couldn’t help but admire given its perfect nine-and-a-half-inch size. She crawled up his legs, keeping her eyes downcast.
“May I, Sir?”
“You may, sub.” He spread his arms and propped them on the table, watching her with that restraint she’d grown to love.
She pulled his cock free of the zipper, but didn’t ask him to remove his slacks because with an audience, he wouldn’t. He enjoyed the extra support from the bunched material, and he’d once told her how much he enjoyed whipping out his cock long enough for a suck and then tucking it back in his slacks as if he were ready to continue on with his day.
Admittedly, that air of confidence drove her crazy, too. Memories came back in a flood of mental clippings then. She could remember various times when he’d whipped it out for her, standing in line at a fetish club, seated in a theatre, or driving down the road. She kissed his cockhead and dropped her mouth over his shaft, sucking him to her throat, now entirely back in another moment, a special time for them.
His pre-excitement sprinkled across her tongue, providing her with his special unique and masculine flavor, dousing her taste buds with his addictive tang. She bobbed her head up and down, aware of his brothers sitting there in silence, aware of them watching her, maybe even yearning for her. She could feel the heat from Kurt’s and Liam’s burning gazes, their longing had been so apparent in the past, but there she was down on her knees in front of her Sir, licking his shaft, cradling his balls, giving him the kind of attention they, too, would adore.
She lapped at his dick, slipping her tongue up and down his rigid shaft until he was wet from her saliva, wet and wild. He stood then and she prepared for a quick end.
“That’s it, sub. Suck me. Suck and swallow.”