Seven Scarlet Tales

‘Filthy little minx,’ murmured Peregrine. ‘I can imagine she needs plenty of correction.’

‘Plenty,’ said Richard, resting his fingertips lightly against her vulva for a moment before tracing the path to the plug.

This was always a stomach-churning moment, but Richard was especially cruel today, taking his time, tugging it little by little instead of his usual swift, eyewatering but clean motion.

Her muscles rebelled, wanting to cling to the dratted thing. She moaned with discomfort and the gentlemen laughed.

‘It had a heated rub stuff on it,’ said Rob. ‘Warmed her up, I think. Always makes her madly horny too. That’s why she was so desperate for a jump on set.’

‘I must get some of that. A kind of joint or muscle rub, is it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I daresay Emma would enjoy it. We’ve been exploring the pleasures of figging recently. Do you ever fig Lucy?’

‘All the time,’ said Richard.

Finally, it was out. Ah, the relief.

But the relief didn’t last long.

‘Where shall I?’ Richard held up the removed plug.

‘Oh, I’ll call the maid. Consuela!’

Lucy lay, bare bottom up, face on fire, as Peregrine’s maid approached the scene.

‘Put that in some soapy water, would you? It’s been in this bad girl’s bottom, so I wouldn’t touch anything other than the handle. Thank you so much.’

The maid said nothing, not even a yes or no. She must be familiar with this kind of thing, Lucy supposed, but all the same …

Richard’s hand travelled all over her back and shoulder blades, then lowered her skirt so that it covered her bottom once more.

He bent to speak into her ear.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Think so,’ she said, not really knowing the answer.

‘Let’s go to our room, shall we?’

‘Don’t you want to—’

‘There’s plenty of time, Luce. We’ve got two weeks. Let’s not gallop into anything you aren’t ready for.’

In their room, with its panoramic view of the hills and its ensuite magnificence, Lucy reflected, not for the first time, how lucky she was to have two doms who so perfectly understood her limits. They knew the difference between a clench of aroused dread and a clench of genuine fear, meekness born of joyful submission, or tension. It was a gift she had no intention of relinquishing, ever.

Lying between Richard and Rob, kissing one then the other while they stroked and massaged every inch of her, she felt the impossibility of ever giving either of them up.

Outside, Tack had chased Celia to the edge of the pool, over the side of which she was now bent, with her bikini bottoms pulled to her knees.

She shrieked and flipped from side to side as Tack smacked at her wet bottom, sending fine spray up into the air with each stroke.

‘Think what you got on set was a real spanking, huh? Think again,’ he said. ‘You’re getting it good now.’

Peregrine watched with a distant smile, sipping intermittently from his cocktail. Emma came out of the pool and joined him on the neighbouring sunlounger, observing proceedings just as keenly.

‘Do you ever get jealous?’ she asked him.