Page 61 of Lesson In Honesty
Liam rose, kissing her sweetly before moving behind her.
Grit did the same, pressing his forehead to Tabitha’s as he whispered something only she could hear. When her shoulders sagged, he rested his cheek against hers for a long few seconds, then took his position at her rear.
“All right, ladies, I need a color from you. The system is simple—green for good, yellow for need a minute, red for not going to happen. Pixie?”
“Green, Sir.” A swift, positive response.
“Tabitha?”
She sucked on her lip. “Green, sir.”
“Okay then, make yourselves comfortable on the benches.” When Tabitha stepped back, Mack walked over to the one closest to her, running his hands all over the edges, down the sides. “There are no chains, no ropes, no straps. Master Merrick and I made these ourselves, sweetie. No one’s going to restrain you.”
“Okay.” Breathing a bit fast for his liking, she let Grit guide her over to it.
Liam patted him on the shoulder. “This is your night with Sierra, Mack. Voyeur time is over, I’ll take over as referee.”
She probably wasn’t going to thank her Daddy for that graciousness once he took his clothes off, Mack thought. Tabitha’s history of abuse gave her a valid reason to be anxious, but Sierra was about to have a shock of her own.
Sierra
The padded bench thing was actually quite comfortable once she settled onto the firmly cushioned top. Fucking cold, inciting her nipples into popping out like bullets and turning her skin briefly to ice, but after a minute or two, she felt like it would be easy enough to close her eyes and have a nap, even if her butt was stuck up in the air and her pussy was on full display.
She’d noticed the haybales beneath the padding were securely roped together so that they didn’t fall apart beneath it. It certainly seemed sturdy, persevering against her test wiggles. Not only that, Mack and Master Merrick had thought ahead,improvising a knee rest from a sticking out bale and a blanket to stop the hay from prickling sensitive skin.
It was taking longer for Tabitha to settle. She kept squirming, whimpering under her breath, fighting to keep her obvious discomfort from showing.
“Tabby, relax. Grit’s right here with you.”
Hands digging into the sides of the padding, Tabitha just dropped her forehead to it and wheezed. When Grit’s hands landed lightly on her hips, she went rigid.
The hands on Sierra’s hips weren’t Liam’s, she thought immediately. Instead of possessive, they were tentative, and she realized her Doms had traded places.
Didn’t that give her a thrill? One she’d missed, actually.
Doms, plural.
The next few minutes were strangely relaxing. Watching Grit’s hands slide up and down Tabitha’s back as Sierra felt a matching pair mimic the motion. Up and down, palms pushing smoothly up while fingertips dragged down along her spine.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she melted, becoming one with the padding.
The massage continued over her shoulders, strong fingers kneading into the muscles, her brain swimming with pleasure and the odd pinch of pain as the knots were worked loose. Down her arms to her palms, her fingers, then back to the length of her exposed spine. Her thighs were treated next, her calves, then her feet.
Tabitha’s whimpers died a slow death until soft silence encompassed the room like the world in a snowstorm.
The stroke of fingertips over her pussy jolted her out of the peaceful reverie she floated in. A soft touch, exploratory, trailing around her folds and clit. Teasing her nerve endings and encouraging her body to ready itself.
She heard her breathing hitch as a single digit pressed into her. She had her own bad memories to contend with, the phantom feeling of burning in her core when a cock was shoved into her dry. Her exhaled breath came out on a moan when the finger eased into her without pain, her sex wet enough to allow access.
Tabitha’s moan came a moment later, sweet and relieved.
“Good girl, pixie.” A low hum of praise.
The finger dragged up between her cheeks, circling her neglected rosebud with interest. Circle, circle, dip. Circle, circle, dip. Stimulating the dastardly little nerves that made anal sex feel so fucking good.
Her eyes snapped open when a thick, throaty snarl sounded in front of her.
Hands at the nape of her neck, Tabitha clawed at her own skin. Her arms vibrated as muscles all over her sleek body popped with strain. Cheek to the padding, she stared blankly at nothing, her teeth clenched tightly together.