Tricked - Page 53

Damon’s cane snapped relentlessly against her ass and the backs of her thighs. Unable to bear it any longer, Callie closed her eyes and focused on mental escape. She took a deep breath and slowly released it, chanting her internal mantra. Breathe in… One, two, three, four, five… Let it go… Breathe in… … One, two, three, four, five… Let it go…

She was back in Wisconsin, out in a field with her father and little brother. They were practicing at the makeshift firing range they’d built at the end of their property. Callie knelt down, one knee on the ground, the other knee up to steady her arm. She put the butt of the rifle in the crevice of her shoulder and peered through the scope at the target.

Damon’s handsome, evil face appeared in the bullseye. Taking careful aim, she pulled the trigger, catching him right between the eyes…

“I think your girl is flying too,” she heard from a distance. “She’s smiling.”

“She fucking loves it,” Damon declared from behind her, still very much alive, alas. His words jerked her back to the moment.

“Greta has had enough,” Wolf continued, now easing his stroke again to a light tap. “Let’s stop now and give them aftercare.”

“Okay,” Damon said with obvious reluctance. But thankfully, the caning stopped.

Bending down, Wolf reached into his gear bag and produced a tube of some kind of salve. He glanced at Damon, frowning slightly. “Did you need to borrow some Arnica?”

“What? Oh, uh, yeah,” Damon said. “We just ran out.”

Wolf squirted some of the cream onto his fingers and handed the tube to Damon. He took it and a moment later, Callie felt the soothing cream spread over the worst of her throbbing welts, something he’d never bothered with before.

Greta remained with her face pointed upward, eyes still closed, a beatific smile on her face. Only when Wolf uncuffed her wrists and ankles did Greta open her eyes. She blew out a long sigh and turned toward Wolf, who enfolded her in his arms.

“Das war wundervoll,” she breathed.

“How about the girls thank us properly?” Damon said as he released Callie from the cross. “I’m thinking on their knees, mouths wide open?” He chuckled.

Wolf looked at Greta, who bobbed her head with apparent eagerness. “Okay,” he agreed, his hand going to his fly.

Hope again leaped like wildfire inside Callie. In order to suck Damon’s cock, the bastard would have to remove the duct tape. That would be her chance!

She dropped to her knees beside Greta, who was already in position in front of Wolf, licking her lips as if about to have a wonderful treat.

Facing her, Damon, too, opened his slacks. Reaching in, he pulled out his shaft. Both men massaged their rapidly elongating cocks until they were at full erection. As Wolf slid his cock into his partner’s willing mouth, Damon bent down and tugged at a corner of the duct tape covering Callie’s mouth. He glared at her as he did so, his telegraphed warning loud and clear.

Her heart was racing. No matter what happened afterward, the second he freed her mouth, she was going to scream.

Reaching for the back of her head, he gripped her hard by the hair with one hand. His other was still on the tape, his erect cock bobbing just by her face. He jerked the tape, ripping it painfully from her mouth, leaving one side still stuck to her cheek. But before she could make a sound, he shoved his erection deep into her throat.

She gurgled against the onslaught, to no avail. He thrust rapidly in and out, never pulling his cock fully from her mouth. Unable to move her head, her hair caught in Damon’s tight grip, she instead slid her eyes toward the couple beside her. She tried to get their attention, but they were completely involved with each other, neither glancing Callie’s way.

Within the space of a minute or two, Damon’s body stiffened in the moment before orgasm. He mashed her face against his pubic bone as he thrust deep. His disgusting semen slid down her throat as he groaned in apparent ecstasy.

He pulled out and, before she could utter a peep, pressed the tape firmly back into place. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the small roll of tape, tore off a fresh strip, and pressed it over the first piece.

Tears of frustration and fury filled Callie’s eyes as he smiled cruelly down at her. “That was excellent, slave girl.” Reaching for her, he pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. “As a reward, I’m going to cane your pussy,” he said in a voice clearly designed to carry. “You’ll love that, won’t you, baby?”

When Callie didn’t immediately react, he hissed into her ear, “Nod, you fucking cunt. Now.”

Caught in his arms, she had no choice but to obey. Slowly, she nodded.

Tags: Claire Thompson Erotic
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