Emmy breathed in, taking a measure of where Spence was in the moment. She was pleased the overarching scents were excitement and pure lust. His cock, already standing proud, was another testament to his arousal. Zero fear, just trust, submission, and overarchingneed.
She trailed her fingers down his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart, the heat of his skin contrasting with the cooler air. “Look at me, Spence,” she ordered, her voice soft and steady despite the thrill racing through her veins. His gaze met hers, dark and dilated, full of that quiet fire she wanted from him. “Zander tells me you don’t have a safeword. That he’ll act as your safety net.”
“Yes, Ma’am. He knows what I can handle, but we won’t need him to do that.”
She hoped he was right, and she’d do her best to make it so. Tonight was about giving him a sweet burn of pain thatblurred into pleasure, the kind that left good echoes in the soul. Not bad ones.
And yet, in order to claim someone, you have to take them past what they think they can take.
“I put my wrists into the cuffs, and I held them up to the chains. I choose to be here. I choose to submit to your will, to your needs and wants, to be whatever you need of me.” Spence’s words were softspoken, but the way his gaze held hers, unwavering, sent a jolt straight to her core. Power exchange, raw and real — not taken, but given. She felt it coil between them, a living thing.
Zander moved behind Spence and slid his hands over his hips. Spence gasped, and Emmy realized Zander had penetrated him from behind.
“Breathe,” Zander said, and Emmy watched as Zander pressed in quickly, inch by inch, until he was seated deep. Spence’s breath hitched, a low groan escaping, but his eyes stayed on Emmy’s, the connection unbroken. Zander didn’t thrust yet, just held there, savoring, his own arousal scenting the air like aged oak and night-blooming jasmine — vampire strength undercut with heat.
Emmy lifted the penis plug from the side table, a slim stainless steel rod with a flared end, wired subtly for the TENS unit she’d control. She showed it to Spence, letting him see the gleam of it, and the thickness.
He swallowed hard, but his cock twitched,hardening further.
She worked it in carefully, slick with lube, feeling the resistance of his body, the way he tensed and then relaxed under her touch. His breath came in short pants, but his scent stayed sweet — pleasure edging out the discomfort.
She didn’t rush. Gravity was a patient tormentor, and she let it do the work. The plug’s weight pulled it inexorably down while she held the base steady with two fingers. She watched the delicate skin of his cockhead stretch around the cold metal, and he let out a broken gasp that cracked in the middle, half pain, half desperate want. His hips jerked once, instinctive, then stilled.
He was exceptionally well trained, and Emmy found she wanted to push past his training.
She wrapped her free hand around the bottom two inches of his shaft and gave a lazy, twisting stroke. Up, slow drag of skin over rigid heat, then down, thumb pressing just under the ridge. Another gasp, sharper this time, his thighs trembling against the spreader bar. She kept the rhythm unhurried, a counterpoint to the plug’s relentless descent. Every time she stroked down, the metal slid a fraction deeper; every time she stroked up, his body tried to clench, only to be forced open again.
Minutes bled together. Three. Five. She could see the exact moment the first part of the flare kissed the rim of his slit, stretching the tiny mouth wide, the skin blanching white before blood rushed back in a rosy flush. Spence’s head fell forward, sweat beading at his temples, but his eyes stayed locked on hers, glassy, pleading.
She rewarded him with a firmer twist of her wrist, squeezing just enough to make his knees buckle against the box. The plug slid another millimeter, gravity winning another tiny piece of territory. His scent bloomed richer, and she tasted the sweet, spicy bite of pain on the back of her tongue.
Emmy attached the TENS lead, and Spence’s breath hitched on every exhale, a soft, wet sound that made her clit throb in sympathy. She leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
“Feel that stretch? That’s me inside you. Every millimeter you take is a little more of my willpower inside you.”
“And what’s in your ass, Dearest?” Zander asked.
“My Sir’s cock is in my ass.”
“That’s right,” said Zander, his voice soft. “Two holes penetrated. Perhaps we should put something in your mouth later. Make it three.”
Spence whimpered, hips rocking minutely, chasing her hand even as the plug forced him open. She gave him what he needed — slow, slick strokes, base to mid-shaft, never touching the invaded head. The contrast was cruel and exquisite: pleasure below, invasion above, his body caught in the middle, unsure which way to break.
Eventually, gravity finally claimed the last of it. The flared end seated flush against his tip, the rod buried to the hilt, his slit stretched obscenely around the narrow neck. Spence’s entire body shook, a fine tremor that ran fromshoulders to toes, but his scent stayed sweet — pain pushed to the edge of discomfort, pleasure woven so tight the two were indistinguishable.
Emmy stepped back, admiring the entire image, his body taut, muscles flexed and strained. The plug glinted at the top of his hole, a cruel ornament claiming the most sensitive part of him. She traced a fingernail along the stretched rim, feeling the heat, the thrum of his pulse. “Good boy,” she praised, and his eyes softened, a flush creeping up his neck.
Zander groaned softly behind him, still buried deep. “He squeezes so nicely when you praise him. Like he’s trying to pull me in further.”
Emmy gave a low laugh and cupped Spence’s balls, rolling them gently at first, then squeezing with increasing pressure. He gasped, his body jerking, arms straining against the cuffs. She watched his face, his eyes — saw the flicker of fight and then the moment he surrendered to it. His scent sharpened, pain threading through like a fine spice, but still sweet. “That’s it,” she said, leaning in close enough he’d feel her breath on his cock. “Let it build. Feel it. Feeleverything.”
She released and spanked lightly — sharp slaps that made his balls bounce, heat blooming under her palm. Spence moaned, his hips twitching, which only made Zander hiss in pleasure. “Fuck, yes,” Zander said, his voice rough. “Do that again. His ass clenches like a vice around me.”
Emmy obliged, spanking hard enough to make a cracking sound. Spence’s eyes watered, but he held her gaze, his submission a palpable force. She could scent the shift —pain intensifying along with the endorphins, blurring the lines of pain and pleasure into outright need.
“Yours,” he panted, voice breaking on a gasp as she squeezed again. “Both of you. Yours. I’m yours.”
The words hit deep. This wasn’t just submission, it was Spence handing her his heart wrapped in trust. The responsibility should’ve terrified her, but it felt like coming home.
