LOGINThey rotate through me like they've been doing this together their whole lives.Warren replaces Knox inside me, his rhythm different, more artistic somehow, like he's painting pleasure across my body with each stroke.Knox moves to my mouth, making me taste myself on his cock while Pierce watches from a chair, stroking himself slowly."You're watching them fuck your wife," I say to Pierce when Knox pulls out of my mouth to catch his breath. "Does that bother you?""We're not married yet." His eyes never leave the place where Warren is joined with me. "And no. It doesn't bother me. It's actually quite educational.""Educational?""I'm learning what you like." His smile is sharp. "Warren uses long strokes, varying his pace. You respond well to that. Knox was faster, harder. You responded well to that too. You're adaptable. That will serve us all well in this arrangement.""You're analyzing my sexual responses while your brothers take turns inside me.""I analyze everything. It's what ma
The first night, they argue about who goes first.We're in the penthouse they'll be sharing for the duration of the marriage, all four of us standing in the living room with too much space and too much tension between us.The wedding is three days away, but Pierce insisted we start acclimating to each other immediately."I'm the eldest," Pierce argues. "Traditionally, I would have first rights.""This isn't the Middle Ages." Knox crosses his arms. "And there's nothing traditional about this situation.""Let her choose." Warren's quiet suggestion cuts through their bickering. "She's the one who has to sleep with us. She should decide the order."They all turn to look at me, waiting. I consider my options carefully.Pierce is controlled, powerful, probably dominant in bed. Knox is passionate, competitive, likely to try to outdo his brothers. Warren is the wild card, the artistic one whose desires I can't predict."All three of you," I say. "Tonight. Together."The silence is deafening.
Three months ends far too quickly.The morning of the last day, I wake in my usual spot at the foot of his bed, curled on my soft cushion with the blanket he always tucks around me before he falls asleep.My collar is warm against my skin, familiar and comforting. In a few hours, according to our contract, it will come off for good."Come up here." His voice is sleep-rough, unexpected at this hour. He's never invited me into his bed before morning light.I crawl up beside him and he pulls me close immediately, tucking my head under his chin. His arms wrap around me, possessive and protective at the same time."The contract ends today." He speaks into my hair, his voice oddly strained. "You can go back to your life. Your apartment, your job, all the things you put on hold to be here with me.""I know.""Or." His arms tighten around me almost painfully. "You could stay."My heart stops in my chest. "Stay?""Not as my pet. Not under a contract with an expiration date."He pulls back to l
The party changes everything.It's a gathering of lifestyle people, held in a sprawling mansion outside the city. Owners and their pets, dominants and their submissives, masters and their slaves. A place where our dynamic isn't unusual or hidden but openly celebrated.I wear nothing but my collar, my leash, and elaborate body paint that turns my skin into a canvas of swirling gold patterns.An artist spent two hours painting me while Weston watched, transforming me into a living work of art. He holds my leash loosely as we enter the grand foyer, letting me walk on two legs but staying close by his side."There will be demonstrations tonight." His voice is low, meant only for me. "Scenes. Shows. Exhibitions of training and obedience. I've signed us up for one of the featured performances."My pussy clenches at his words. "What kind of scene, Master?""You'll see when we get there." He smiles, enigmatic and confident. "Do you trust me completely?""With everything I am.""Then follow me
Training happens every day without exception.I learn commands, each one drilled into my body until responding becomes automatic. "Sit" means kneel with my thighs spread wide, hands resting palm-up on my knees, chest lifted and displayed. "Down" means flat on my belly, face turned to the side, completely submissive and still. "Present" means ass up, face down, pussy exposed and ready for whatever he wants to do to me.I learn positions. The specific ways he wants me to wait for him when he comes home from work, kneeling by the door with my leash held in my teeth. The way he wants me to sleep, curled at the foot of his bed on a soft cushion he bought just for me. The way he wants me to follow when we move through the penthouse, always three steps behind him, leash trailing from my collar.I learn to eat from his hand. Literally. Regular meals are served in my bowl on the kitchen floor, but the best treats come from his fingers. Pieces of ripe fruit, bites of expensive chocolate, mor
The collar is heavier than I expected.Sterling silver, custom-fitted to my throat, with a small tag that reads "Property of Weston Cole." He fastens it himself, his fingers warm against the back of my neck, and I hear the click of the tiny padlock that means I won't be removing it myself."Perfect fit." He steps back to admire his handiwork. "How does it feel?""Strange." I touch the metal, cool against my skin. "Good strange.""You'll get used to it." He reaches into his pocket and produces a leather leash, clipping it to the D-ring at the front of my collar. "Now. Let's establish the ground rules."I've read the contract a dozen times. I know what I signed up for. But hearing him say it out loud, while I'm standing naked in his penthouse with a collar around my throat, makes it feel terrifyingly real."For the next three months, you belong to me. You're my pet. My property. You don't make decisions. You don't wear clothes unless I dress you. You don't eat unless I feed you. You don
I scramble backward. My spine hits the headboard and I pull my knees to my chest.He stands at the foot of the bed. Pulls his shirt over his head. His body is ridiculous. Built for damage. He reaches for his waistband.“Jace. Don’t.”He shoves his sweats down and his cock springs free and my breath
They uncuff me from the chair, and I barely have time to consider running before Moran wrenches my arms behind my back and snaps the cuffs on again. My shoulders ache from the position, but that's the least of my concerns right now."On the table." Cruz shoves me forward until my hips hit the edge
His breath is hot against my inner thigh and I'm already shaking."Keep touching yourself." He murmurs, too quiet for the mic to pick up. "Keep putting on a show for your audience. I want to see how long you can pretend nothing's happening while I eat this pretty pussy."I slide my hand back betwee
The knock on my door comes at the worst possible time.I'm standing in my bedroom wearing nothing but a pink lace bra and matching thong, my ring light already glowing, laptop open and ready on my desk. My cam show starts in ten minutes. I have regulars who tip well when I'm punctual, and I need ev







