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"I'm standing behind him and have my hand on his cock, Sam," Geoff said conversationally. "He's figured out there's an upside to spanking your ass. I think he should jerk off in front of you and deny you a single taste, because you've been such a bad girl. Would you like that?"

She shook her head. Words escaped her for a moment, because she was imagining Geoff pressed up against Chris behind her, fondling his cock out of her view. "No," she said plaintively. "Please. I want to--"

"This isn't about what you want. Is it, Sam?" Geoff's snap cut across her plea. She bit back another of those sobs that rose up to try and choke her. "Answer me."

"No sir," she said in a small voice.

"That's right. Chris, it's up to you. Decision's in your hands. Quite literally." Geoff's grim humor did nothing to alleviate Sam's sensual misery. "My turn with her ass. You've warmed it up good and made it tender for what's coming next."

Maybe Geoff's suggestion to Chris had been intended to distract her from that deliberate threat. Thank God, Chris cooperated, moving in front of her. Geoff was right. He was impressively aroused against the fly of his camo pants. Her attention climbed to his face, finding so many raging, unspoken responses there, it stole her voice once again. Keeping his gaze on her, Chris unzipped his pants, reaching in to scoop out his cock. The shaft was thick and tall, the broad head baptized with glistening pre-come that made her want to taste. She licked her lips, communicating that desire, and he registered it with a glimmer of primal male satisfaction.

She cried out as Geoff struck her with something that felt like a square of flat rubber, the flexibility giving it a hard sting. She saw Chris's momentary pause, his check that her reaction was mixed with as much arousal as pain. She couldn't hide anything from him, from either of them, and she was glad of it, because it meant Chris started to stroke himself.

Geoff wrested a feminine grunt from her with each blow, and she pulled against her bonds, lifting up for more. She clung hungrily to what Chris was doing. Her pussy was throbbing, her nipples tight peaks below the press of the side piece of the bench. Her entire body was tingling, and her heart was so full of emotions she was afraid it might break her ribs. When Chris paused again, studying her, she realized tears had spilled from her eyes, and her lips were drawn back in a grimace of total frustration. Oh God, how could she want and not want something so aggressively at the same time, so it felt like she was in danger of being ripped apart?

Chris pushed his cock back into his pants, zipped them and dropped to his heels, fingers tented on the ground, his face close. She let out a strangled noise as the spatula landed again, vibrating through every needy nerve. Chris traced the tracks of her tears, and she burrowed her cheek into his hand, kissing, biting. With each hit, an excruciating arrow of arousal stabbed between her legs, all her limbs stretched and straining, her stomach muscles quivering. Yet maybe because of how Chris was touching her face, on the next blow, what was pressing inside her rib cage cracked through.

Physical desire was yanked back to a place where it hummed and heated, while her emotions shot her to another kind of precipice.

"Please . . ." She wailed it, and Geoff hit her again.

"Please what, Samantha Beth?"

"I'm sorry. I won't tease my Masters again. Not like that."

"It's impossible for you not to tease your Masters. Your very scent teases us, the way your body moves, the parting of your lips when you talk, the hint of your tongue. Chris is even now imagining it curling around his cock, while all I want to do is take mine out and shove it into this wet, pink cunt of yours."

"Please . . ." She would endure any amount of strikes from whatever horrible thing he was using for that.

"That's what you want us to do? Even though I said we weren't going to do that for the next few days?"

She shook her head, then nodded, and then started crying in earnest. There it was. The dam breaking. The erotic intensity of the moment was a contrasting rush of fire.

"But I want you both so much, all the time," she sobbed. "I can't stop. I've wanted you for so long, and now I have you, and . . . it's never enough . . . I need you so much and I don't know how to be kind, or smart, or slow, or right about it . . . I'm scared . . . scared it's going to be gone before I can hold on to it. I don't care how much it hurts, or how right or wrong it is . . . ever . . . just please . . ."

The incomprehensible words came so fast she started choking on them, her head pounding with the force of her emotions, her fingers clawing for purchase on something, anything. She'd been given a gift so large, she hadn't known what to do with it or where to start, only that she wanted to claw her way to the center of it and never come out.

Ever since the very first moment she'd met them, it had been here, waiting, deep inside her soul. These were the two men who would love her in the for-a-lifetime way she needed and wanted. It was such an incomprehensible treasure that, only by burrowing as deep inside that love as she could, would she feel safe and balanced with it. If she stayed on the periphery, gave herself a respite from the feeling, she feared she'd accidentally wander outside that boundary. It would slip away and leave her, a dream gone in a blink, too good to be true. Being captured and bound by these two was the security blanket she wanted, now and forever. But it wasn't the restraints that held her; it was the two men themselves.

As if emphasizing that, Chris released the strap behind her neck and her wrist cuffs, while Geoff did the same to her ankles. "No . . . don't. I can . . ."

"Hush. It's all right. You got to the bottom of it, Sam. It's all good." When Geoff straightened her with a steadying hand on her elbow, she burrowed into his body, curling up against him. He lifted her in his arms. "Here you go, baby. We've got you. We're here. Punishment's done. All done."

He carried her out of the humid garage back into the house. Down the hall and into his bedroom. When he pulled back the covers to slide her into the bed, Chris had stripped off his shirt and was getting into the other side in pants alone, so Geoff put her directly into his arms. Geoff removed his own shirt and joined them, the two men holding her so closely they had to have their hands on each other. Their solid bodies offered her warmth and reassurance, as did the low words they spoke to her as she cried. Geoff shifted to run his fingers over Chris's hair and shoulder, another reassurance. He would need to know that they hadn't done anything wrong.

Far from it. As things quieted enough inside her that she could draw an even breath and speak through her sniffles, she had her hands wrapped over Chris's hand where it curled against her breasts. Her lower body, her sore ass, was pressed into the cradle of Geoff's thighs and pelvis.

"I've seen that kind of breakdown happen when I was with Flo, at parties, but I've never experienced it," she said at last. Her voice was thick, raspy. Her skin was vibrating wherever either of them touched her. "I didn't realize how much I needed it until it happened."

"It was a little scary," Chris said, studying her closely. "But okay, too. Good. It was as if you opened yourself up all the way to the soul or something. The scary part was seeing how vulnerable you were."

"B

ut the two of you took me to shelter." She managed a soft smile that made her heart hurt in the right ways. "I don't think I could want to be anywhere as much as I want to be where I am now." She tipped her head back onto Geoff's shoulder. "How did you know? Did you see it happen at a club or party?"

He shook his head. "I heard stories about it from other Doms, because that kind of thing is more of a one-on-one, private scene kind of thing. They told me when a sub compresses emotions like that, such that she or he can't figure out what's going on enough even to talk about it, you have to know the best approach to crack them open. Sometimes it's to take them to climax. Sometimes it's this, the punishment thing. But a lot of it was just knowing. Feeling it. Reading your cues, the challenges. Some of the response, I thought through. But some of it was just instinct. Which was why it was a little unnerving. I'm sorry if I pushed too hard, Sam, too fast."

"You didn't. I don't think you did. Is it okay . . . Can I touch you?"

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