They continued to talk as if she weren’t in the space. It shouldn’t make her feel hot and needy. Sophie rocked her hips against Zack, seeking friction. He countermoved and painfully curved his thumb inside her, pulling her to her toes with a strangled cry.
“Youaren’t the one in control.” Zack’s whispered reminder sent shivers down her spine. “How did you end up here, Sophie?” He released her throat and pressed her forward to lean on her hands.
The mahogany desk was cold against Sophie’s flushed cheek, a stark contrast to the heat flooding the rest of her body. Zack’s weight pinned her firmly, his cock buried to the hilt inside her with a deep, possessive thrust that made her gasp.
“Tell him, pixie,” he grunted, his hips beginning a ruthless, steady rhythm that had her scrambling for purchase on the polished wood. “You’re going to look at your Daddy right in his fucking eyes and tell him you came in here begging for my cock.” To emphasize his point, he pressed another finger into her rear. The rough pad of his thumb against her asshole, applying a firm, insistent pressure that made her cry out.It was a threat and a promise, all in one.
From the leather armchair in the corner, Aiden watched, his hazel eyes dark with a mixture of lust and intense focus. He didn’t move, but his presence was a tangible force in the room. “She’s been so good for us, Zack,” he said, his voice a soft, calming counterpoint to Zack’s brutality. “Haven’t you, little star? You take it so well.” He held up a blistered package holding a glistening silicone plug, already coated in a sheen of lube. “This seems like the perfect opportunity.” He gave the offered object to Zack.
Zack pulled the pack open without breaking his rhythm, his fingers closing around the neck of the toy. The sudden, cold shock of the lubricated plug against her most private hole made Sophie flinch. “Hold still,” Zack commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re lucky. I would have chosen peppermint.” He pressed the tip against her resistance, and with a firm, unyielding push, he worked the widest part past her tight ring of muscle. The stretch was exquisite, a sharp, full burn that morphed into a deep, throbbing ache as the narrow stem settled inside her. She felt impossibly full, stretched and claimed in a way that made her head spin.
“Fuck!”
“There,” Aiden cooed, rising from the chair. He leaned over the desk, cupping her face with a tenderness that felt alien amidst the violation. He held her gaze, his thumb stroking her cheek. “My good girl. You make Daddy so proud.” He leaned in and kissed her, a soft, lingering press of his lips against hers that was over too soon, a fleeting moment of affection before the storm.
The moment Aiden pulled back, Zack withdrew from her, his cock sliding out with a wet, obscene sound that made her blush. The air felt cold on her wet, exposed flesh. She heard the distinct sound of leather sliding through a loop, and her entire body tensed in anticipation.
The first crack of his belt against her ass was a lightning strike of pure, sharp sensation. She jolted forward, a cry ripped from her throat.
“Count,” Zack’s voice was flat, hard.
“One,” she gasped, the number trembling on her lips.
He brought the strap down again, lower this time, across the full curve of her ass and the top of her thighs. The pain was a bright, hot line that immediately began to bloom into a throbbing heat.
“Two!”
Another crack, parallel to the last. Her eyes, wide and watering, were locked on Aiden’s. He held her stare, his expression one of serene approval. “Don’t you break eye contact, baby,” he murmured. “You look right at me, or I'll make him recount.” Sophie was convinced Aiden was running for the title of sadist.
“Three!” The strap landed again, and she could feel the wetness from her own pussy coating the leather, a humiliating testament to her arousal. Zack made a low, taunting sound in his throat.
Sophie resisted every urge to close her thighs, to press her ankles together and shield the most sensitive parts of herself from his assault.
She knew there would be consequences that she knew she didn’t want to test.
“Fuck, listen to that,” he sneered, bringing the strap down again with a wet smack. “You’re so fucking wet for this. You love every second of me using your body, don’t you? You’re fucking dripping all over my belt.”
“Four!” she cried, her voice breaking. The pain was mixing with the deep, persistent ache of the plug, creating a feedback loop of pleasure and punishment that was driving her out of her mind.
The fifth strike was the hardest yet, landing right across her sensitized thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second against the sting, a reflex she couldn’t control.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Aiden chided softly. “Eyes on me, Sophie. You know the rules. Zack, start from one.”
“No, Daddy, please—” she begged, but another searing crack of the strap cut off her protest. The threat of starting over, of extending the sweet agony, was a special kind of torture.
“One!” she shouted, her eyes flying open to lock desperately onto Aiden’s hazel gaze.
He gave her a slight, encouraging nod. “That’s my girl.” Aiden kissed the frustration from her lips, swallowing every cry.
Zack administered the final four strikes with brutal efficiency, each one landing on already heated skin, each “two,” “three,” “four,” and “five” punched out of her with increasing desperation. When it was over, she was panting, her entire lower body a throbbing, sensitized map of her submission.
Zack moved then, stepping between her and Aiden. He dangled the damp, leather strap between their faces. Thescent of her own arousal was potent in the air. “Taste,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly.
Without a moment’s hesitation, they obeyed. Aiden leaned in first, his tongue swiping a long, deliberate stripe along the leather. Sophie followed, her own tongue meeting his, tangling not just with each other but with the unmistakable flavors of leather and her own slick, musky essence. It was the most debasing thing she’d ever done, and a fresh wave of wetness coated her inner thighs.
Zack held her jaw, his grip firm, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me what you are.”
Her voice was a wrecked, broken thing. “I’m your needy toy. I’m your filthy slut.” The words were crude and humiliating, but saying them sent a bolt of pure lightning straight to her core.
