Hot Sauce (Suncoast Society #26)(73)

She didn’t often play with others, so that was an easy term to agree to. A few times with Kel and Scrye with suspension, and with Leah with a singletail. Never sensually, either. “Yes, Sir.”

“Work will still be off-limits,” Lyle said. “But there might be times we tell you that you’d better come home from work with a butt plug, and if it’s not there, you’ll get punished.”

“Or,” Reed said, “we might make you spend a day off running errands while wearing one. Or a vibrating egg in your *. Or I might take you out on the boat with me and you’ll be wearing a butt plug all day.”

“Then I’ll probably need panties for that,” she snarked. “But yes, Sir.”

“And you’ll start every day with five hard swats from a paddle,” Reed said. “Which Lyle will probably end up giving you most mornings, but you’ll have a morning ritual of getting the paddle and presenting it and asking for them. You don’t get to safeword for it, either. If something’s happening and we don’t have time, we’ll delay it until that evening. If you forget, it’s twenty swats with it when we catch up to doing it.”

She wasn’t surprised to feel her clit throbbing in anticipation of that. “Yes, Sir,” she softly said, feeling subspace rapidly creeping in.

“Do you want to know why?” Reed asked.

“Why, Sir?”

Lyle leaned in. “Because,” he said, “it will be a reminder to you who owns you, who protects you, who takes care of you, who loves you. When you sit in the car on the way to work, or whatever is happening that day, you’ll immediately be thinking about us.”

“And when you’re home,” Reed said, “if we want a blowjob or we want to use our sweet slave, we will. Safewording will be allowed for that if you’re sick or on your period, though. But if you’re not sick or on your period, you might get bent over the counter and f*cked whether you want it right then or not.”

“Or put on your knees in front of the couch after dinner to give us blowjobs,” Lyle said. “Or bent over our laps and spanked with our bare hands, just because we want to.”

“Or we might just borrow one of those bondage frames from Max and Sean, tie you to it, and spend the night using every sweet hole you have,” Reed finished.

She was already wet. She felt it. She also knew these two men could be trusted to ease her into that new dynamic, not break her, but slowly, gently reshape her in all the good ways.

“Are you wet, baby girl?” Lyle asked.

Her face heated. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“Spread your legs,” Reed ordered.

She didn’t even think about hesitating.

He reached between her thighs, two fingers easily sliding inside her and making her softly moan. “Very wet,” Reed said. He pulled them out and her lips opened automatically. She knew the rule—they who made the mess cleaned it up.

And it was just as hot watching the men do it to each other.

“Good girl,” both men cooed as she sucked her juices from Reed’s fingers.

Lyle took the box from her. “Breakfast, then this. Your food will get cold.”

She wasn’t sure she could eat, now that she was hornier than hell, but she managed it.

After breakfast and giving her a chance to use the bathroom, the men stood waiting by the bed. They each held a rattan cane.

The open box holding the collar lay on the bed.

And the large oak paddle they had lay on the bed, too.

“If you still want this,” Lyle said, “if you really want to be our slave, then you need to kneel, ask for our collar, and ask us for the cane strokes.”

Both their cocks were hard, which only made her wetter.

She sank to her knees. “Please, Sirs. I want to be your slave. I want to wear your collar, and I want you to give me your cane strokes.”

“That’s the paddle that will be used on you every morning,” Reed said. “You must always know where it is, and you will always present it in the morning to one of us and ask us for your paddle strokes. Including this morning. We’ll do it first now, before the cane strokes.”

“The proper way to present it,” Lyle said, “is to get it, bring it to us, drop to your knees, and say, ‘I need my Sir to please give me my morning paddling to remind me who owns me,’ while holding it up to us.”

Reed nodded his head toward the paddle.

She stood, picked it up, returned to her previous place, and held it up to them with both hands. “I need my Sir to please give me my morning paddling to remind me who owns me.”

“Fuck,” both of them whispered.

“Okay,” Reed said, “that’s even hotter than I thought it’d be.” He took the paddle from her. “Get on your hands and knees,” he said. “Some mornings, we might have you bend over the bed, or the counter, or where we say, but it will always be over a bare ass.”

She dropped to all fours and waited.

Reed stepped behind her. “I get to do this today since I won’t get to do it very often. These will sting. Ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He didn’t delay. Five swats came in rapid succession, across both ass cheeks and making her cry out.

But he finished in seconds, and then his warm hand stroked her, soothing her stinging flesh. “There,” he cooed. “Our good baby girl taking her first morning paddling. Such a good girl.”