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Remington chews on her lower lip as she moves to the second button, unfastening it agonizingly slow, but I don’t mind the torment, it will make the capture of her—the exquisite climax of pleasure—that much sweeter.
The second button opens, her white blouse gaping at the chest, her tanned skin revealing itself. She skips the third, unfastening the fourth, leaving her tits covered. I’ve seen her naked before, a few times now, but there’s something so different about this time. Perhaps it’s the intimacy of our situation that enhances this moment. Or maybe it’s because the other times she didn’t want to show us her body, rather, it was forced on her as it was on all of us students.But this time?This time, she’s choosing to strip. She’s choosing to bare herself, to give herself over, and that realization has my heart pounding.
The next button slips from the hole and the next, until only the single button remains closed at her chest, the rest undone and exposing her contoured stomach and belly button.
“What’s under the skirt, lass?” I ask, gripping my cock through my pants. “Lift it.”
Her nipples harden under her shirt, pressing against the gauzy material. I see the question in her gaze, wondering why I’ve stopped her from stripping—the answer is to throw her off, to keep her guessing. I want to keep the upper hand here, and the woman is too damn smart for her own good. She fingers the hem of her skirt and slowly pulls it up.
“Fuck,” Ben groans next to me as her bare pussy comes into view. “No panties? Dirty fucking thing isn’t she, Cash? Came in here with no bra, no panties, just waiting for the moment she could use her curvy body to her advantage.”
“For your information, I wasn’t given any undergarments after we showered,” Remi snarks, holding Ben’s gaze. “If I had been, I can assure you, I would have worn them.”
“Were you wearing them when you had Professor Vaughn’s dick shoved down your throat?” I counter, smiling even as she drops her skirt back down as a deep crimson creeps up her neck and down her chest, revealing the truth. “What? Got nothing to say about that, lass? Or are you still choking on his cock?”
“Fuck you,” she spits.
“Soon,” Ben promises, “but first, you seem to have forgotten your place. Cash never told you to drop your skirt. In fact, I think he ordered you to lift it.”
I feign a yawn then nod towards her shoes. “Give me the paper. You get it back after you hold up your end of the bargain.”
I lift an eyebrow, challenging her to disobey. Her shoulders slump as she turns and fishes out the paper, her free hand holding the sides of her shirt closed as she moves. Strategically, she has her side facing us so when she bends down, she maintains her privacy.
Fuck that.
I move faster than she can anticipate, and pluck the paper from her hand, tucking it into my back pocket. She squeals as I spin her to face me, my fingers digging into her shoulders.
“Your disobedience is pissing me off, lass. I’m quite sure there are other students who would throw themselves at us in exchange for the prize inside our little, black box. Your roommate, Bianca, perhaps?”
She shrugs out of my hands and steps back, her pretty face twisted with rage. “You wouldn’t!”
“Aye, I would.”
She looks towards Ben but I don’t need to follow her eyes to know what she sees there. She expects to find some solace in Ben—some comfort—but little does she know that he wants her, maybe even more than I do.
Ben stands next to me, arms folded across his chest. “Time’s up, doll. Strip and submit to us, accepting your place as our slave, or get the fuck out.”
Not that she could actually leave. My guess is our door is locked until the powers that be release us to compete in their next, insidious game—but the point remains the same. I stare loftily down at Remington. She seems so small now, with Ben at my side. The little blonde is at least a foot shorter than both of us, maybe more—so fragile, so delicate.
So mine.
I hold up the paper, unfolding it for her to see. “You still want this, right?” She inhales deeply, and nods, schooling the features of her face in an attempt not to feel anything. “I don’t want you passive, lass. I want you engaged with me and Ben. I don’t want to just use your body, no, I want to fuck your mind as well. You have a lot to learn about me—aboutus. I plan on making you feel things you’ve never felt before. You’ll crave every touch, every lick, every kiss, until you’re begging us to fill all your holes, stuffing you fuller than you’ve ever been before. I want you here, with us, feeling, experiencing, giving yourself over to us more completely than you’ve ever done in your whole fucking life. I can’t possibly make myself any clearer what our intentions are for you or what our expectations of you are.”
“I still want it,” Remi answers, eyes fixed on the paper. “I’m ready.”
Ben chuckles darkly. “Sweet doll, you’ll never be ready.” He softly elbows me. “Let’s see how responsive she is first.”
“I like how you think, Ben.” I beckon her towards us. “Come here, slave. I’m bored and want to play.” She moves towards us, stopping a foot away.
“Take your hair out of that ponytail,” Ben orders and she complies almost immediately. Of course she does, this demand doesn’t involve us touching or seeing her body. “So you can obey.” His condescending tone pisses her off.
“So you can be an ass,” she retorts, shaking her golden curls after they fall from the hair tie.
Ben grins and points to the ground. “Stand in front of the bed and lift your arms into the air.”
We shift apart so she has to walk between us, the scent of her body wash invading my nose. She stops at the bunk beds, lifting her hands into the air as if the cops had put her under arrest.
“Grab a belt,” I say to Ben as I link my hands through hers and press them against the wooden bar on the top bunk which stops its occupant from rolling off in their sleep. Ben acts quickly and begins running the belt around her wrists and through the wooden bar. I feel her shaking against me, and my guess is her reaction is part fear, part excitement.
