Three-Part Harmony (19 page)

“Copy that. Give her a nice, solid finish, and we’ll move on.”

“Perfect. That stockade’s been calling to me for the last five minutes. I have some ideas. Wiggle your sweet little ass for me, sugar. I feel like playing with a moving target for these last few swings.”

* * * *

Fear flashed back into her gaze after Kress got her off the cross, but disappeared soon as the guy grabbed her by the nape, letting her know it was okay to let everything go again. Oh, yeah, David concluded. She was under pretty deep. The happy world of subspace had thoroughly claimed Dasha’s brain, and right now, she only wanted somebody to keep her safely there. He backed Kress’s move by circling behind her, bracing her waist, running soothing hands along the strikes on her backside.

In firm silence, Kress guided her to the device that looked like Ridley Scott, in a fit of industrial punk-rock glee, had redesigned the colonial age. The custom stockade was like nothing David had seen in any club: a front panel had a scoop for the submissive’s neck, with an option to place their wrists in the traditional stockade holes, or stretch out their arms on side rails to be locked in by both the wrists and elbows.

Kress, also correctly interpreting the glaze in D’s eyes, opted to use the latter restraints. After clipping in her neck and adjusting the torso pad for her petite frame, he positioned her knees in place against two pads on the floor, then deliberately slid them out to match the wide settings on the back spreader bar.

While his friend finished locking her in, David shed his own shirt, which was also damp from his efforts of helping her travel into mental delirium. He yearned to shuck the pants too, but Kress moved like an artist at work around her, double-checking restraints, running his hands along the lovely bruises he’d just inflicted, keeping her mind right where he wanted it. Their personal sexual putty.

“Are we still feeling good?” he asked, winding a hand into her hair and lifting her head. “Nice and comfy?”

Dasha gave him a dreamy smile. “Yes, Sergeant. Thank you.”

“Good. Because here’s the finishing touch.” He slid a fitted leather blindfold over her eyes. “Surprise can be a very good thing, D.”

“Yes, Sergeant.” She trembled a little…though for the first time, David noticed the smile hadn’t vanished from her lips. She was still afraid—still terrified, as a matter of fact, by what Kress had in store now—but now, her brain was sucking in the adrenaline and cortisol of that stress and delivering it straight to the walls of her womb.

She was fucking breathtaking.

He really didn’t know how much more he could take of this. Judging by the hard knot filling the front of Moridian’s pants, he wondered about the resistance level in his friend too.

The guy turned to his sadism buffet plate and selected a steel-pronged pinwheel that even sent a shiver down David’s spine. The prongs gleamed in the dungeon’s golden light, their inch-long spines ending in wicked pinpoints.

Without hesitation, Kress pushed the thing up Dasha’s back.

David tensed as she hissed and moaned, but Kress didn’t let up with the zigzagging torment. Once her back was crisscrossed by gorgeous red tracks, he pulled the wheel back. “How did that feel?” he asked.

“Sharp.” D got it out on a gasp. “And destructive.”

“Kind of what holding back on Daddy does to your heart, right?”

“Yes.” She emitted it on a sob. “Yes, Serg—owww!”

The exclamation went on as Kress rolled the wheel down her ass. David could tell he dug in a little harder across the flesh that was already tender from the impact toys, adding pain on top of pain to drive the message into her. Damn. He could almost sympathize. The sight of her struggling, helpless and submissive and reacting openly to the raw sensation, had precum seeping from the head of his cock.

Thank fuck for observant friends.

With a small smile, Kress interrupted his torture session to level another order. “Sugar, it’s time to put that sweet little mouth to use for something productive, like atoning to your Sir for the stress you’ve caused him in all this. He’s going to take out his cock now, and you’re going to suck him deep.”

“Yes,” Dasha replied, clearly grateful for the chance to feel something other than pain. “Yes, thank y—”

David cut her short by sliding himself into her mouth.

“Christ!” Her mouth was hot salvation and tight torture. His erection pounded harder, lightning straining for release against his skin. He seized the chance to command her a little himself again, grabbing the corners of her jaw and pinching them wider. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “More, D. Take more of me. You’re doing great.”

He pushed in deeper and slammed her gag reflex. She coughed him out, which he didn’t mind in the least, growing harder as he watched her lips grow sticky and slick. But Kress was listening to a different drummer. “Get him back in there,” he commanded. “Or the wheel digs back into your ass, darlin’. I want to see his balls against your chin. You’re being punished, not primped.”

David helped by cupping her chin and gently guiding her back onto his head. Her mouth did the rest, getting his cock down until his balls did, in fact, slam her chin. The torture got worse as she let out a long groan around his flesh. He looked to discover the cause. Kress now switched up his efforts and simply went at her with his fingers. David stared in a heated trance as the guy applied lube to both his thumbs, then settled himself right behind the sweet, mottled swells of her ass. With a savoring grin, he pushed both fingers into the crevice David had penetrated himself a while ago.

Dasha quivered and whimpered, tickling his erection with more erotic ruthlessness.

“Holy…shit.” He gave it from locked teeth. “You’re really earning your Sir’s favor again, D.”

Kress let out a low chuckle. “Maybe she’s earned herself a fuck at last.”

“Hmmm.” David stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I did tell her I was going to do as much, if she behaved. But technically, she’s still being punished.”

“Maybe a compromise? I think you’d satisfy all requirements if you got over here and took your girl in the ass.”

Dasha groaned again, though he couldn’t tell whether it was in protest or acceptance. He desperately hoped the latter, for the sound pulled him with irresistible force. He recalled how he’d promised they’d be fucking by the end of the night. Very soon after that, he’d had his finger deep in her backside. Now realization dawned. The two actions were meant to merge into this climax of reality.

Kress rose and stood back, extending a condom packet with a bad-ass grin. “Lucky fucker,” he quipped, though David hardly heard. Lust was a hurricane in his head and a firestorm in his cock. Just sliding the latex on was a chore in self-control. He managed to keep it together a few seconds longer, drenching himself in lube, then spreading Dasha’s asshole wide enough to get plenty of the slick liquid inside her too. With his fingers still wet, he reached around to the folds of her pussy. Locating her clit was the easiest feat of the night. Her most sensitive flesh was hard and erect and pleading for his touch.

“Mmmm,” he murmured, rejoicing in her gasp as he worked his fingers against her. “You ready for the ride, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she pleaded. “Yes, Sir, please!”

He tried to take it slow. He was damn near certain Dasha had never been fucked like this, and forcing himself like a cretin into the tightest entrance of her body would likely ensure he didn’t get asked back for another jam session. But fuck—
fuck—
the way her tunnel constricted around him, squeezing him with pressure he felt all the way back to
his
ass, was a torment too agonizing to ignore.

The second he was sure she’d gotten used to him, he began to grind. It was magic. It was torture. She started to gasp, then grunt in time to his pounding pace. Her little sounds, a mixture of ecstasy and suffering, were like a hit of crack to his balls.

“Tell me how it feels,” he commanded from clenched teeth. He needed to hear it from her lips.

“Hurts. Tight. Hard.
Hurts.
”

“But you want more?”

She took a second to get to that one. “Yes…Sir.”

“Yes,” he hissed back. “Yes. You please your Sir. You—”

Words went the way of his thoughts—into nothing—as the explosion shot up his cock. He pulled her cheeks apart to get in even deeper, driving into her with animal abandon. Then the world was only his moan and her cries, her body accepting the invasion of his with hot, gripping submission.

He became aware of the new sound in the room as his brain circled back to earth. David looked up from where he began to gently pull away from Dasha to see the guy who’d gotten him here, still locked in torment. Kress had leaned back against the body cage to watch David take her; now the furniture added stability as he unleashed his own cock. The guy stroked the angry red length in a white-fisted grip, his face drawn in lines of total agony.

“Wait,” he called. “Slow down there, cowboy.”

Kress glowered. “Easy for you to say.”

David curled a grim smile. He slid all the way out from Dasha, watching her ass quiver as if it missed him already. The rest of her body remained a slingshot of tension, and he could see the moist lips of her pussy, still engorged with their need for fulfillment.

Carefully, he stepped aside and grabbed a bottle of water from one of the three minifridges in the room. He carried it around to where Dasha’s head was still locked in place at the front of the stockade. Gently, he pulled off her blindfold. She blinked up at him, momentarily stunned even by the dim dungeon lights, her face awash in sweat, her mouth shimmery. He ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, pressing it to open her further.

“A little thirsty, honey?”

She gave him a slow nod, though her gaze went from adoring to stunned when she looked to Kress and what she’d done to him.

“Good,” David said as he knelt beside her. He brushed the hair back from her face before cracking the bottle open and holding it to her lips. “Drink up.”

She gratefully gulped the water. On purpose, David tilted the bottle a little higher, so some of the liquid overflowed down her chin, neck and breasts. “Beautiful.” He pulled the bottle from her mouth and dribbled more water down her back, across her ass. Dasha moaned in pleasure as the cool liquid dripped down her sides. She undulated in her bonds, and the sinew of her muscles was sexy as crap against the dark wood of the stockade.

“Holy fuck.” Kress groaned. “There’s no slowing me down now, man.”

“Perfect. Then get yourself over here. I think our girl still needs some extra hydration.” He took her chin between two fingers and pinched gently. “Open back up, baby. The Sergeant’s worked hard for you tonight; now drink him up while I get to work on your reward.”

The words flipped her compliance button in a nanosecond. Not that Kress could wait any longer. The man was about the same size as him but didn’t waste his time or patience on any half thrusts. He gripped Dasha’s head and impaled her on his shaft, his breath leaving him in a passionate, appreciative grunt.

The guy wasn’t going to last long, and David would bet his left testicle that their beautiful sub needed a climax just as bad. It was time to make good on his promise. Shifting to the back of the stockade again, he palmed her pussy and thumbed her clit. Indeed, she was hot and soaked. He gave her a hum of approval as she pressed into his touch and let out a pleading mewl around Kress’s cock.

It was definitely time.

He’d noticed Kress had thought of everything when stocking up for the night, including a vibrator most normal people probably used as a back massager, the head was so large. But his incredible Dasha was as far from the norm as it got, thank Fate in all its awesome glory. If he flipped the thing on, then spread her cunt lips back just right, then slid the head over her distended nub…

Oh yeah.

Her orgasm tore through her with sudden, glorious violence. Another hit her practically right after that, dissolving her into screaming glory. The third explosion shook her just as Kress groaned, palmed her jaw, then cut loose with his own climax. The sight was amazing, their good little sub taking his cum as he thrust into her with mighty, hard stabs.

When Kress started pulling away, some of his juice spilled from the corners of her mouth. “Shit,” David said at the sight. “Sweet shit, D…my beautiful D.”

She’d moved him like a locomotive tonight. A crazy slew of mental train stops that normally took him months, even years. He’d been blown past the gates of Lust. Careened across the plains of Astonished. Shotgunned down the tunnel of Wonder. And now, slammed in this abyss of raw, raging feeling. What was this? It twisted his chest like that locomotive had hit a wall.

He hated it.

He didn’t know if he could ever live again without it.

And from the looks of things, a similar freight train had bashed into his little submissive too. Her tears had started again with the orgasms. Now she wobbled precariously against her bonds. Only one word spilled from her lips. “Sir…Sir…Sir…” She babbled it in a rasping litany.

“Here.”

Jesus, had that croak come from him? He cleared his throat and stated, “Here, baby. We’re gonna get you out. Hold still, okay?”

She sobbed into his chest as he pulled her from the stockade and folded her into his arms. David pulled her as close as he could, gratefully accepting a blanket offered by Kress. She felt smaller than ever as she huddled against him, finally starting to breathe easier again but still clutching him. Or maybe her fingers clung so tight because he gave her no choice. His own arms vibrated with the intensity of his grip.

At last, a new phrase came out of her. She spoke it into the crook of his neck with soft, simple, and very complete honesty.

“Thank you.”

When had living become so complicated?

Dasha finally let the rumination sink in after an hour of locking herself away in the mansion’s solarium. The bright circle of a room lived up to its name with ivory-and-green decor, now all dappled in midday sun. She’d retreated here in her favorite comfies with her guitar and a cup of jasmine tea, her go-to combo for times when stress threatened the roots of her sanity.