Spank or Treat (5 page)

She’d learned long ago not to ask him what he was saying. Half the time, he didn’t even know, the idle muttering a way he talked himself through his rigging. He’d spent countless hours practicing, years ago starting with tying up some of the girls’ largest stuffed animals in suspension rigs, working his way up to rolled up and weighted sleeping bags, and then to using June as his bunny.

The feeling of being bound by the rope was indescribable to her. Even better than simply being tied down and helpless in bed, this was artistic, energetic, kinetic. She participated even as she was immobilized, not just passively being made to orgasm, or having her ass smacked.

Both activities she definitely loved and enjoyed, but being Scrye’s rope bunny allowed her to spend time with the man most of the world never got to see, her husband’s inner sadist, the rope artisan.

He finally reached the moment of truth. Hooking an arm around her waist, he lifted her so she could grab the ring the ropes were now wrapped through. Belaying her off the ground was easy for him since he could man-handle her. And her own strength meant she could help him.

Once he had the slack taken out, he supported her back with one hand. “Okay, let go.”

She did, arching her back as she spun, face-up, in a lazy circle, eyes closed.

He gave her a gentle shove, making her swing.

More fun for her, the freedom of flying in the ropes.

After a couple of moments, he grabbed her left leg and she felt more ropes being tied as he bent her knee and tied her ankle in place, nearly touching her ass. Another rope on her right leg, and then her wrists were quickly bound together under her, connected to her ankles.

She now swung, helpless, breasts exposed, pussy open and vulnerable.

Just the way he liked to have her.

She heard him pick something up and the first stingy swat against the outside of her left thigh landed, hard and sharp, driving her dive into subspace. He was using the lightweight acrylic paddle she loved and hated, a stingy little motherfucker that would help drop her like a rock into subspace even as she started whining about the sting.

Scrye slid two fingers into her pussy, which betrayed her. “You’re wet, baby. I think you like this a lot more than you say you do.” More swats, on her thighs, her ass, her upper arms, even as he rubbed her clit with his thumb and finger-fucked her pussy.

This is how she’d remain until she offered up her first orgasm to him, his willing prisoner, exposed.

“After I get done with you,” he said, “I’m going to fuck your brains out, and then you’re going to suck my cock clean. Then, and only then, will I let you down, so you’d better start coming for me.”

He laid the paddle on her stomach and started tormenting her breasts, her nipples, pinching, rolling, flicking them. Sometimes he tied the harnesses to push her breasts out, but he didn’t tonight. Tonight he left them free to torture and torment. Including leaning in to nip and suck on her nipples.

That’s what shoved her over the edge, finally. As she started coming, straining in the ropes, the hand in her pussy fucked her harder, faster, slamming against her clit with every stroke.

“There you go,” he said. “I knew you had it in you.”

And after all their years together, he also knew exactly how to keep her coming. He grabbed her by the hair with his other hand to hold her body still while the hand in her pussy kept her orgasming.

Of course, he always took her right to the edge, but just when she thought she might have to safeword, the hand in her pussy fell still, making her gasp.

Fingers touched her lips and her mouth opened automatically, sucking them clean for him.

He spun her around, and then slid his cock into her pussy, slowly, deeply, using the ropes to hold on for traction.

Her climb started again, jumpstarted by him rubbing her clit with his thumb.

June closed her eyes and soared, fully in the grips of pleasure and subspace now, loving the ride, loving being ridden by her husband, loving it when he took control and sent her into orbit.

Their sex life was always good, but there was something even better about doing it in rope, having it done to her, especially since it wasn’t something they could do every time. Not even at the club, not like this, not with full participation from him, too. Only at the private parties with a suspension rig could he fuck her silly in mid-air.

And that didn’t happen nearly as frequent as she wished it did.

He picked up the pace, fucking her hard, deep, driving his cock all the way inside her, his big, beefy hands controlling her, using her.

Aaannnd another one.

Her big grizzly bear of a husband was always good in the sack. But these times brought out the animal in him in an even better way. She managed another, smaller orgasm by the time he finally thrust his cock inside her one last time and fell still with it buried in her pussy. She didn’t open her eyes as he caught his breath, waiting until he withdrew, spun her around, and then caressed her cheek.

Her lips opened, waiting. He slid his cock into her mouth and she eagerly sucked it, lapping at it. Sometimes she could get him up again quickly and he’d fuck her a second time in the ropes.

Not tonight, unfortunately. After a minute or two, he chuckled and pulled himself free, still spent. “Good girl,” he said.

He quickly freed her arms and legs, helping tip her up so she could grab onto the ring while he belayed her down. Then he got her seated on a towel while he unwound the suspension ropes from the harness and started untying the harness itself.

Smiling, she kept either a hand on his leg, or her cheek pressed against him, wanting that contact, loving the buzz still humming inside her, through her, around her and him, both.

Completion.

Once he had his ropes stowed, he grabbed her bag, and her blanket, and swaddled it around her before effortlessly scooping her up into his arms. He carried her into the living room, to the couch, and settled there with her curled up, her head in his lap.

She groped for his hand, squeezing when she found it.

“Good?” he asked, sounding amused.

“Mm-hmm.”

Not just good…

The
best
.

Cali, her arms crossed over her chest, eyed the Doom. “I don’t like the color, guys,” she said. “I thought we agreed on a nice dark blue.”

The portable bondage frame that had been assembled in front of her was not a nice color. It was not a blue color.

It damn sure wasn’t a dark color.

“It’s visible,” Max said. “You can see it.”

“They can see it from the International Space Station,” she said. “That’s just downright jarring.”

“Told you,” Sean said to Max. “Nooo. You wanted to save a few bucks.”

Max smacked Sean’s shoulder.

“What?” Cali asked, looking back and forth between them. She uncrossed her arms and pointed at Max. “What did he mean, save a few bucks?”

The neon green bondage frame almost cast its own glow from where they’d set it up in the middle of Seth and Leah’s living room.

“His friend had a batch of this color that someone else had ordered and cancelled,” Sean said. “It was custom-mixed. Not like he could return it. So he offered to give us half-price on it.”

Cali crossed her arms over her chest again and glared at Max.

“Hey, it looked okay in the spray booth,” Max mumbled.

“
Un
believable,” Cali muttered.

“Told you,” Sean said.

She smacked Sean’s shoulder. “And
why
did
you
let him
do
it?”

“Hey, I thought we were on the same side?”

“We are. We’re not going to sell any of them looking like this. I can’t put a picture of this on the website. It’s horrible.” She hadn’t seen the color until they’d unboxed it upon arrival.

Now she understood why Max had been so keen to keep it from her the past several days.

“Can’t you Photoshop it?” Max asked.

“Photoshop can work miracles. This, however, needs an act of god to fix.”

Tilly walked into the living room and pulled up short at the sight of the Doom. “Wow. That’s…bright.”

Cali smacked Max on the shoulder. “See?”

“She said bright,” he protested.

“She was being nice.”

“She’s right,” Tilly said. “I was being nice. That’s a butt-ugly color.”

Max glowered but didn’t reply.

“Sometimes, a deal isn’t a deal,” Cali told him.

“I bet we can find someone who’ll pay for a bright green one,” Max said. “Maybe a rigger or something. It’d show up good on film.”

“Meanwhile, we’re going to need a second prototype, painted the
right
color this time,” she emphasized, “so I can shoot it for the website.”

The men’s side business making paddles and other implements had exploded upon Cali and her cat, Baxter, entering their lives. Baxter had become an accidental Internet bondage star, and Cali now ran their successful BDSM implement and accessories website out of their home.

A website she’d had to rebuild from the ground up when they first got together because their original site sucked.

But now she made her living running their business for them fulltime.

Well, now it was her business, too, because they’d added her to the corporation once they had their official collaring ceremony.

“I call Max on the bottom,” Cali said.

“Seconded,” Sean quickly said.

“Hey! Don’t I get a vote in this?”

“No,” Cali and Sean echoed in unison.

Cali picked it up. “You gave up Top rights tonight when you unboxed that monstrosity. Get naked, mister. Your ass is ours tonight. I want retribution in the form of a pound of your goddamned flesh.”

Realizing he was outnumbered, Max started unbuttoning his shirt. He’d come to the party dressed as an outlaw biker. Which basically meant he could get away without shaving or combing his hair. “Not fair ganging up on me.”

Sean grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him, hard. “Quit bitching, buddy. You know you love bottom time as much as the rest of us.”

“And think,” Cali added. “You get to pop this neon monstrosity’s cherry tonight.”

“Lucky me.”

“Take one for the team,” Sean said. “You know you love it.”

“And us,” Cali answered with a grin.

“Yes, I love both of you sadistic switches.” He dropped his shirt onto the floor, kicked off his boots, and started working on his jeans. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Sean said. “You’re a pretty sadistic switch yourself.”

“Never denied I was.” He now stood naked in front of them.

Cali walked over and wrapped her arms around him. “Quit yer whining, bucky, and get that cute little ass of yours onto the Doom.”

“You got a purdy mouth,” Sean joked.

Max rolled his eyes. “You start quoting
Deliverance
to me, I’m going to safeword right now. It didn’t end well for them, and it ain’t gonna end well for you, either.”

“Spoilsport. I was going to play banjo music and everything. Make jokes about paddling faster because of banjo music.”

Tilly threw her hands up in the air. “And with that horrible line, I’m out of here. Not even Gilo is masochistic enough to listen to these bad puns.”

Max climbed up on the frame. “Let’s get this dog and pony show on the road.”

“Darn it,” Sean grumbled. “All I have with me is a tiger costume.” He hadn’t changed out of his street clothes yet.

“I’m all the pussy you’ll need tonight,” Cali said as she started strapping Max down to the frame.

“Mee-raow, baby,” Sean said.

“Watch out, or you’ll get the gag instead of him.” She patted Max’s ass.

“Who said he was getting gagged?” Sean asked, walking around to Max’s head and unzipping his pants to fish his cock out. “I’ve got his gag right here.” His cock was already hard when he slid it between Max’s lips.

Cali snickered. Sex was always fun between the three of them, lighthearted, even if not usually this close to a three-person stand-up comedy act.

Life in general was fun for her with the two men. They’d welcomed her into their lives with open arms, and she hadn’t bothered to look back.

Her ex had done her a favor, dumping her the way he had. If he hadn’t, she’d still be with him and not nearly as happy.

She stroked Max’s ass with her hands. “I think somebody needs a butt plug,” she said.

Max couldn’t respond with Sean’s cock down his throat.

Rooting through their equipment bag, Cali came up with gloves, lube, and a butt plug. It didn’t take long to get it worked into his ass, leaving him squirming on the frame, immobilized and unable to get any traction against his hard and dripping cock.

“Now for the main attraction.” She found the lightweight paddle she wanted and started smacking Max in the ass and along his thighs with it, making him moan.

“I think he likes that,” Sean said.

“I don’t think you know what that word means,” she said. Another smack, and another moan from Max. “Sounds more like he’s in pain than pleasure.”
Smack
.

“Touch his cock. I bet he explodes.”

She pointed the paddle at him. “No. When we get done and you get off, you’re climbing under there and sucking him off.”

He took another stroke into Max’s mouth. “Oh. Well, when you put it like
that
, babe.”

After a few more smacks, she switched implements, spending the next thirty minutes or so working Max over, putting her weight on the frame, too, and generally trying to make Max squirm as much as possible. Mostly to test the frame’s design and durability.

But also to torture him for the horrific color.

Finally, she knew Max was getting close to his limit. “Finish Sean off, Max, so he can finish you off. Then we’ll move so someone else can use this neon monstrosity and whichever one of you gets hard again first can fuck my brains out.”