2:00–4:00 PM –Personal time
4:20–6:00 PM –Owners return, greet at door, offer drinks, put boots/shoes/coats away.
Her pulse quickened as she read down the list. Used by all three men before most people had their first cup of coffee. Every morning. Heat pooled low in her belly while her mind tried to process the reality of it.
“Everyone has it in your inboxes,” Kenny said, and he met her gaze. “You’ll usually give me a blowjob in the shower, Silas is probably gonna want your ass.”
“And for a morning quickie, I’ll fuck your pussy,” Boone said.
“Most mornings, that’s all three holes,” Kenny noted, “but if one of us is in the mood for something else, it’ll be up to you to adjust.”
Her pulse jumped, a flutter in her throat that chased heat all the way down between her legs. She inhaled too sharply, then let it out slow.
“Of course, Sir.”
“I’ll probably put at least a few marks on you before I fuck your ass in the morning,” Silas said. “Cane. Loopy Johnny. Probably less than a half-dozen strikes, but with serious implements.”
The muscles in her thighs tightened involuntarily, and she shifted her weight to keep from rubbing them together.
She nodded, unsure her voice would work as she wanted it to.
“Most days,” Silas continued, “I get to the restaurant between nine and ten thirty, and it’s ten minutes down the road if I travel outside of school zone times. I usually wake at eight, no matter the time I’m going in.”
Boone smirked. “Mornings I have extra time, you might get your ass fucked instead of that lovely little cunt.”
Her pulse jumped, and the plug pressed more insistently against her inner muscles. The ones Boone wanted to fuck wide open all over again.
Kenny went on. “Odds are, when you bring my lunch you’ll either get under my desk to give me a blow job, or lean over it to be fucked in one or both holes.” He shrugged. “Doubtful I’ll make it into all three holes during lunch, but you never know.”
The casual way he described using her at work made her breath go shallow. This was really happening.
“It’s important to note free time isn’t a given,” Silas said. “We might require you to write lines, to exercise, corner time, whatever.”
She swallowed more meatloaf and nodded. “I understand, Sir.”
“Plan to have dinner on the table by five unless we let you know it should be later,” Kenny said. “Foursome nights, everyone will clean up. Other nights, the two not using you will do so.”
The screen changed.
Evening scenes
Thursday: Foursome
Friday: Boone
Saturday: Kenny
Sunday: Silas
