Green Broke Woman (45 page)

“Good girl.” Her Master's voice broke through
the dreamy fog.

Kayla moaned, and her body went languid
against the bench. She could endure anything for him when he said that to her.

Slade was nowhere to be found in this moment
of shocking pain. It was almost as if each contact the cane Master Hugh wielded
on her flaming ass seemed to beat the memories of her sadistic bodyguard from
her mind.

The psychology behind this scene was so
different. She wasn't being punished or simply abused by a monster. Master was ...
well, in truth she didn't know what the hell he was doing to her. The pain was
too intense, the bond too incredible to assess when she was flying so high.

She had beautiful memories of going into
subspace for him, but that couldn't be possible with the cane. That would mean
he'd healed her. Proven to her that she was beautiful, had worth, and belonged
to him completely. That somehow her desire to please him overrode what anyone
thought of her.

Kayla cried out when the cane nipped at her
bottom, the sting prevalent, bringing a torch of fire with it. She'd been aware
of her cries all along, but they sounded fainter now, more primitive and wanton
as though she were being fucked instead of caned.

The instrument struck her and slid almost at
the same time, igniting the fiery coals on her battered rump all the more. Her
mouth made an
O
as her pussy leaked.
The sensation of her vagina flooding with arousal was faint in the storm of
pain that flared on her backside, but the wetness was there, coating her inner
thighs and rolling in erotic drops down her legs along with fearful
perspiration.

That was before, though. The fear was gone
now as surrender and desire replaced apprehension.

A similar strike occurred, stinging and
burning her flesh, giving her the sensation of tearing skin. Had he broken the
skin? She doubted it. He probably knew of strikes to give that impression
without actually damaging the flesh. His skill made her woozy and euphoric. He
could create illusions.

Maybe he had made her bleed. She whimpered,
pressing her pussy harder onto the bench. The idea of bleeding for Master made
her hot and bothered. He really needed to get her off right about now or she'd
combust.

The cane was gone. She waited a few seconds
before the wonderful bastard returned and resumed the gliding and gentle
tapping rhythm Master had used to warm her up. Was this cool down perhaps?

The otherworldly utopia persisted as the
touches of the cane became lighter until all contact ceased. She was vaguely
aware of that throbbing mountain of fire behind her that was formerly known as
her ass. She'd bet he'd left marks on her. Decadent marks of ownership and
power. The mental image made her womb clench.

Please touch me.

Somebody freed her of the bonds. She planned
on tackling the nearest of her five men and demanding release, but her legs
felt like cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving and her mumbles sounded more like
primate lingo than actual words.

Jake held her up as he had her lean against
the bench. The edge pressed into her sore posterior, making her mewl in pain.
Wonderful, nasty bench of oppression.

Master had set the cane aside and now had his
thick, black walking cane. Jake stepped aside, supporting her back from behind.
Master extended the tip to her mouth, and she almost made out with the damned
thing when she kissed it.

Surely he wouldn't cane the front of her with
it? She'd prayed for death whenever Slade had done that to her. Her protesting
grunt sounded like a crabby orangutan that had just woken up and wanted to beat
the crap out of the other monkey that was responsible.

Master watched closely, not hitting her,
merely touching the tip of the cane to her areola before using a gentle probing
motion to lightly touch her nipple. The sensual pressure and consistent tipping
there made her womb spasm. He did the same to the other nipple, hiding his
aroused smile at her responsive body language and horny sounds. She saw the
smile in his eyes, though.

Then the delightful tip of the cane moved to
her pussy. He avoided her clit, but started a gentle prodding on the labia just
slightly above her clitoris. The probing touches drove her wild with need.
Electric energy filled her body as her clit swelled and pulsed with the urge to
explode. Her cunt released a fresh flow of cream, pounding and probably aching
with the need to be penetrated, though her ass throbbed too painfully to tell.

The next touch of the tip sent her over. She
choked on a gasp, vaguely aware that she sounded like she was being strangled
by someone. Her broken cries emerged into a full-blown scream as intense
pleasure that bordered on pain took hold of her.

The muted sound of distant thunder rumbled in
the background. Was it applause? A blanket was thrown over her, and she felt
Master's lips on her forehead. Either those were cheers in the background, or a
bunch of squirrels and birds had gathered around and started a unique choir.

The next thing she knew she was on a bed
being examined and her sensitized ass attended to by her Master. He rubbed
something on it that stung like hell and made her whimper and tear up in agony.
The satin bedspread turned the misery into sheer rapture.

Fucked.
Must be fucked.

He helped her to her feet when he was done
and showed her the reflection of her conquered booty in the mirror. Oh lord,
what a frightening, beautiful image. Red and purple lines, some thick and
others thin graced and crisscrossed her swollen bottom. The flesh was puffy and
hot pink like the face of a woman who didn’t understand the concept of too much
blush. There were a few light bruises, though nothing like the deep, nasty
contusions Slade had beaten into her.

Marks from her Master that she'd consented to
wear. She moaned and sank into his embrace. Her awareness went fuzzy again, and
the next thing she knew they were on the balcony outside in the dark, cradled
by the soft, romantic light of fancy lamps. He reclined on a bench and held her
in his arms, snaking his fingertips up and down her back while he cuddled and
rocked her beneath a cozy blanket.

Through the haze of drugged completion Kayla
managed to summon the strength to worm her hand between them and fiddle with
his fly. His sexy chuckle said he understood as he freed the button and zipper
for her. Hot, rigid flesh was unleashed from its cloth cage, taking her breath
away.

She realized that she was still naked, though
he was clothed. His glans rooted through her sopping slit until they arrived at
their destination. She pushed her hips down while he pressed against her
opening with his cockhead. His controlling hands gripped her hips and applied
pressure so her cunt was forced downward and his erection launched upward
inside of her.

She wailed at the red-hot wave of sparks that
sizzled in her body, settling like glowing coals where their blood-filled
genitals met. She wanted to tongue him into next week, but she couldn't seem to
find the strength or the willpower to move. A few easy thrusts of her hips were
all her tired body could manage before his fingers tightened against her
hipbones and he assumed control of the ride.

His upward tunneling dug deep into her pussy
fucking the knowledge of his cock into her, permanently branding her with his
ownership. She snuggled against his chest, smiling and feeling safe and loved
when she heard the excited thumping of his heart. The erratic drumming grew
faster and faster the harder he worked his penis into her.

She sobbed with pleasure when he grazed her
sensitive clit with the back of his finger, brushing it with dexterity against
the tender flesh. The protective hood couldn't hide the bundle of nerves he was
determined to awaken. The covering jacket served as an ally, joining his finger
in the salacious rubbing on her aroused clit.

She saw purple and herself as if she were
having an out of body experience, watching as well as feeling herself come. She
heard his
heartbeat,
felt only the wild sparks of
release exploding like dynamite all throughout her body.

She envisioned the pleasure as a literal,
tangible force she could see. It was colorful and hot, like fireworks shooting
off everywhere in her body. She could picture the muscles in her thighs from
diagrams and drawings she'd seen of the human body. They clenched and burned as
ecstasy racked her body. Her legs were on fire like after a hard run.

Master grunted, breathing through tormented
groans as she milked his cock. She felt him plowing deep inside her, battering
her with his erection. His balls ground against her, tight, leathery, and
solid. They filled with pressure and semen.

Fill me, Master.

He filled her. She felt the muscles in his
body tense, his cock changing shape and pulsing as he emptied his drawn-up
testicles into her heated depths. His heart raced at the pinnacle, slowly
softening as it gradually eased to a normal rhythm along with his spent
muscles.

Her Master.

He didn't say a word, merely fanned her back
and shoulders with his fingertips, making her shiver with awareness of him. His
cock remained in her, hard for a while afterward before gradually deflating.
His sperm trickled down his flaccid organ, flowing from her wet channel. Cum
ran along his balls and her inner thighs. Hot, messy, so dirty.

“I'm proud of you, Kayla.”

Her heart swelled with so much joy and love
for him it started to hurt. “Thank you, Master.”

She turned her head when she heard footsteps
and saw movement from her peripheral vision. Jason Adkins approached, wearing a
Stetson, a gray long-sleeved shirt that buttoned up the front with tight leather
pants that looked like dark brown, and suede cowboy boots.

He handed her a margarita glass filled with a
bright pink concoction that resembled her cane-acquainted ass.
“One margarita for the lady and water for both of you.”

He set two glasses of ice water on the small
table next to them and tucked the round serving tray under his arm.

“Thank you ... Raphael,” Kayla teased, biting
her bottom lip at Master Hugh's snicker.

Jason frowned, but the way his lips perked
with humor showed his amusement. “You just had to share that, didn't you,
Hugh?”

Master grinned and shook his head. “I just
mentioned Jake's turtle status. I never said anything about your involvement.
You can thank Travis for that.”

Jason shook his head, his smile widening.
“And he's supposed to be the good one.” He pointed to the tables. “I brought
you guys some napkins, too. How you plan on using them is your own business.”

She blushed, pursing her lips together and
averting her eyes. Did he know what they'd been up to? Was he aware that Master
Hugh's cock was still partially lodged in her cunt?

Jason chuckled.
“Excellent
show, little lady.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She watched him start to
leave before remembering something Miranda Langley had once said to her. “She
talked about you even after you guys broke up.”

Jason froze in his tracks, keeping his back
to her for a moment before turning to face her. He had his collected man face
on, but his intent interest was unmistakable. “What did she say?”

“Miranda said she didn't care how big of an
asshole you were, she'd love you until the day she died.” Kayla got a sinking
feeling when she wondered whether or not the poor woman was even still
breathing, but Jason must know how much Miranda loved him. “And she said if
there was an afterlife she'd go on loving you forever.”

Jason's control wavered, and she could almost
hear the cry of his soul in the revealing silence. His voice came out soft and
fragile, though the threat of tears was absent from his tone. “Thank you.”

His tortured eyes were a different story. The
light from indoors cast a shadow over his face since his back was blanketed in
brightness, but when he turned she saw the deeply moved appreciation on his
face and the glassy anguish that shimmered in his eyes. He wasn't crying, but
his heart obviously was. Kayla realized that Miranda's feelings were obviously
still reflected in Jason's soul as well.

After he left, Master pushed her up slightly,
using the napkins to wipe his seed off them. Before he could get his pants
closed, Kayla looked over her shoulder to see Travis, Jake, Keith, and Virgil
coming.

Master yanked her on top of him and pulled
the blanket around them more. “Don't get up.”

Jake's lips wound heavenward in a devilish
grin. “Why is that?”

“Never mind,” Hugh retorted.

“Are you boys ready?” Travis asked.

The men nodded.

Jake stepped forward. “The terms of your
submission are negotiable, but not this.”

Crappers, what does he mean by
that?

He got down on one knee and revealed a little
black velvet box that displayed a sparkly ring when opened.

She gasped, trying to get up and whining when
Master held her down against him.