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She sensed Logan waiting, wanting to
be sure she was all right before they continued. She could end it here, say she'd had enough, was in over her head, but pride held her back. He'd made it clear her role was helping him create the atmosphere for Troy. He wasn't intending to make her submit like Troy, no matter where her imagination was trying to take her.
So she nodded, and then Logan threw her further off her axis. He proceeded to bind the two of them together. She tried to remember how many lengths of rope were on that workbench, how many he'd used thus far, but her brain was far too clouded with lust to figure it out.
Chest to breast, waists, then a wrap beneath the curve of her buttocks in the jeans, cinching her up against Troy, pressing her clit against his rigid muscles and aroused reaction, making her moan again. Did all assistants act like this?
At the beginning of the evening, she'd assumed a training Master's assistant would be an arm's-length thing, where she was standing shoulder to shoulder with Logan, a partnership. Could he possibly use her like this, compartmentalize it, and still see it that way? There was no way in hell she could. She'd anticipated a little voyeurism, some nervous speculation, but in no way had she anticipated this full immersion. She was being swept along in an irresistible current. If he was intending to take her deeper, it was a diabolically clever way to do it, disarming her with Troy, seducing her with the possibilities, so nothing felt too frightening. Logan knew how to mix the emotional with the physical, keeping a woman compliant.
The ironic thing was she could have all these cynical thoughts and still not want to be doing anything different from what she was doing right now.
"Put your cheek against his shoulder, Madison. You'll be more comfortable, and it will relax your body into his." He gave her hair that tug again. "If you were my sub, you would have earned a punishment as severe as his tonight, with that little bump and grind of yours."
The idea sent a startling thrill through her vitals. Troy's body twitched against hers. When she laid her cheek on his chest, his breath stirred her hair.
"No sir," Troy said quietly. "I'd take both of our punishments."
"Protecting her, hmm? Just what I'd expect of you. Don't tighten up on me, boy, or I'll make it worse."
In this position, she couldn't see Logan, but she could certainly feel the results of his presence. When that slapper hit again, Troy's body became as rigid as a plank, but he made a visible effort to relax, to do as Logan commanded. Her fingers curled, and she closed her eyes as the next strike came.
She'd witnessed the close relationship between pleasure and pain in the dungeons. Now Troy's cock convulsed against her, hips jerking as he tried his best not to let his increasing arousal earn another response from Logan like before. Her heart was clutching at what sounded like a totally awful punishment, while her body was liquefying against his, in more ways than one.
"Stop," she whispered. "Don't hurt him anymore."
Troy's lips brushed the top of her head, and he groaned as Logan landed another blow, the hardest yet. His body shuddered with each strike. She realized she was rubbing against him, her stiff nipples, her mound, her thighs, unable to stop herself. With every blow she absorbed through his body, she was getting more and more excited. Too excited.
"You're thinking you'd like the same kind of punishment, Madison, aren't you?" Logan grunted, not slackening the rhythm. "Only maybe you'd like it even rougher. You need the punishment to let go. You crave the release."
She might have been able to stop her reaction if the only stimulus was physical, but Logan's words took the choice out of her hands. The friction she was creating against Troy, the vibration of his body against her with those blows, the power of Logan watching them, was too much. The orgasm rose up fast, unstoppable. Though she fought against it, made a desperate attempt to claw it back, desire won out. She bit Troy's chest to muffle her cries, her hips jerking against him.
Hard, quick and intense, the way such an unplanned response could be. Troy risked further punishment by shifting his engorged cock against her clit, increasing the sensation when Logan kept striking him. Because of the repetitive impact, she imagined Troy thrusting into her. It prolonged the overwhelming sensations an extra few sweet seconds.
The sudden wave, here and gone, left her light-headed and tingling. Her soaked panties clung to her, a wet friction.
The blows stopped, Troy panting against her. Logan's fingers wrapped over his hips. "Easy, boy," he said. "Give her a moment. You hold back until I say otherwise."
"Yes, Master." At the desperate note in Troy's voice, she looked up at him, saw the strain in his face. It brought Logan's face into view, over Troy's shoulder. She couldn't hide the flush of her skin, the mussed hair, her moist lips. Though a part of her wanted to duck her face, she couldn't turn away from the magnetism of that forceful glance.
"Fucking beautiful," Logan said. "You want to bring him home, Madison? Has he earned it?"
Jesus, yes. When she managed a jerky nod, Logan cocked his head. "Since you like rubbing that hot little body against him, make him come that way. I'd free you, but you'd want to do it with your mouth then, and I won't permit that. Your mouth is mine."
She saw herself on her knees, her arms still boxed behind her, Logan's hand fisted in her hair as she worked his cock in her mouth. Servicing her lover, possessed by him. Her knees quivered, her body reacting to the idea like an aftershock to her climax. Fortunately, she was still tied to Troy, keeping her from collapsing.
Logan leaned away, pulled a condom out of a drawer of a rolling table he'd drawn close to hold the slapper or various ends of the rope he'd cut. Tearing open the protection, he reached around Troy, rolled it onto his cock. He'd tied them so closely together, his knuckles pressed against her mound, easing her back the scant amount possible as he rolled the condom onto Troy. She shuddered, another aftershock passing through her, and his brown eyes passed briefly over her face, a visual caress.
He put on Troy's condom with the same efficiency he'd done everything else. Though she felt nothing but straight vibes off Logan, he obviously didn't have any hetero hang-ups about touching another male as a Master to a sub. In fact, she could well imagine him fucking Troy's brains out as a way to exercise Dominance, not as a sexual preference.
The idea made her hot all over.
"Don't want him to mark your clothes any more than he already has. He's going to go off like a rocket." Logan moved away from them both, pulling up a stool so he was seated a few feet away. Thinking of what he'd told her to do in the aftermath of her climax, she found herself self-conscious, even though her body was still vibrating.
"You know why men love lap dances?" Logan asked casually. "All those curves moving over their body, squirming and wiggling. The way a woman can rub herself against his cock--tits, ass, cunt--is indescribable. He's on the edge of begging for it. Aren't you, Troy?"
"Yes, Master. Please . . . Madison."
The husky voice, the plea in it, got her started, though mainly it was Logan, his ability to know what to say and when.
