Theirs to Use: A Punishment Reverse Harem Romance(20)


At almost the same moment Karen’s fingers touched her mons veneris, and a soft whimper escaped her throat.

“Good girl,” Singleton said. “All over your pussy now.”

They watched the arousing spectacle of their fucking piece soothing her bare cunt in amused silence for a few moments. Then Green said, “Karen, are you a masturbator?”

A little sound came from her downturned mouth, but the girl didn’t respond.

“Answer me,” Green said. “I’m guessing you’re not. I’m guessing you don’t like to think about what your cunt really needs. I hope you realize that makes it even harder for you. If you gave in and fingered yourself sometimes, you’d find your struggle easier to deal with. What is it? Do you touch yourself sometimes, Karen? Do you even know how to make yourself feel good?”

She had moved her fingers further down, to anoint the crease between her ass-cheeks. Green stooped a little bit to look into her face. He found her cheeks red and her eyes shut.

“I bet that saleslady—Lydia, wasn’t it?—plays with herself all the time, don’t you, sweetheart? Griff, what do you think? Should we have Lydia teach our girl how to masturbate?”

“Sure,” Singleton said. Green could tell the idea did appeal to him—and why wouldn’t it? If Singleton was developing an affection for their indentured servant, he would want her to have an outlet for her needs that might go some way toward reconciling her to the life she must now lead as the possession of ten wealthy men.

Karen had finished with the lotion, now, and she held it silently up to Green. He took it.

“You may not rise from the toilet, Karen,” he said, “until you answer my question. Do you masturbate?”

Her voice sounded forced, as if the reply were being dragged out of her. “No, sir. May I get up, now, sir?”

“Yes,” Singleton said. “Get up and wash your hands. Then go to your room.”

Green’s cock gave an unexpected little leap at the simple phrase go to your room. The air of domestic authority it conveyed—especially because the room referred to was in his penthouse—appealed to him greatly.

“When you get there,” he added to Singleton’s command, “kneel next to the cage. I’m going to fuck your face before we cage you, and I’m sure Mr. Singleton will want to do the same.”



*



They watched her leave the bathroom in silence, but when she had disappeared from the hall, through the doorway of her room Green said, “Any problem with me using her mouth right now, Griff? I don’t see any reason to let this hard-on go to waste.”

Singleton laughed. Green listened closely to the sound that echoed in the tiled space, trying to discern any hint of falsity in it, and couldn’t. That’s something, he reflected.

“Of course not,” Singleton said, “and, yes, I’ll avail myself too, I believe.” He spoke his last sentence in the sort of mock-aristocratic voice that tended to crack his friends up in the grill room at the country club. It struck Green as just the slightest bit forced, but he supposed that the coming blowjob from Karen—and more important, watching Green get blown by her first—would effect something of the distancing process he hoped to enforce on the aerospace executive.

“Let’s get to it,” he said, gesturing to the door for Singleton to pass through, while he as the owner of the penthouse stayed back. He had no intention of going second when they reached Karen’s room, of course, but he did hope to reemphasize to his co-investor that as the managing partner of their little project the girl had come to his home rather than anyone else’s. Whether he managed to distance the blond man from his infatuation or not, there could be no talk of Karen living elsewhere, let alone belonging to any individual more than another. Green had a fiduciary responsibility to all ten investors, after all.

They found Karen kneeling with her face to the door and her head down. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, since she of course had no idea where to put them—Green imagined that she had tried every possible position in the time it had taken the men to reach the room, and every one had felt too submissive to her. From what Green could see of her brow, she was trying to maintain her quiet fury. He almost pitied her, then, thinking of how little it would avail her now.

He walked straight to her, beginning to unbuckle his belt even as he approached, and unzipping his fly before he brought his still-covered erection within three inches of her face. Karen’s head jerked a little, and the problem she had with her hands became much worse; Green could see her fighting her body, struggling against the urge to retreat, to put her hands up.

Casually, he put his left hand in her golden hair, still in its ponytail though a good many strands had come loose now.

“Look at me,” he said, turning her face upward as he spoke. She obeyed, and he watched with a good deal of amusement as she did her best to fill her eyes with hatred, her nostrils flaring.

With his right hand, he freed his cock from his underwear, tugging the boxer briefs down to his scrotum to create the lovely obscene effect of a well-heeled businessman exposing himself to a young woman to whom he has given no choice but to serve him as he chooses.

“You’re not to use your hands. This is a face-fucking. Did you ever give your boyfriend oral?”

A sort of sneer appeared on Karen’s lips. Green tightened his grip on her head. “Answer me, Karen. Have you ever given a blowjob? Griff, get your belt ready to whip that little ass if you have to, please.”

Emily Tilton's Books