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Saskia’s heels clicked against the hard floor as she tentatively approached the two men.
“Turn toward Marcus.”
When she did, Quill began to unzip the long plum gown.
“Master, please,” she whispered.
“Shhhh. You chose to come back here. You chose to interrupt and watch like a naughty little voyeur. Don’t you think you should be punished for that?”
She didn’t reply because there was no reply that was acceptable. Anowould earn her more punishment and the wordyescontained far more masochism than she did.
“W-what if someone comes in?”
“Then they’ll get to see a wide variety of lovely nudes in erotic poses. You among them.” He pushed the straps of the gown off her shoulders and the dress fell, causing the silk to pool in a pile at her feet. “Step out.”
She did, and Marcus led her a few feet away from the dress. Quill ran his hands over her black lace panties and bra. “Very nice.” Slowly he removed those as well. “I want you to leave the shoes on.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Marcus, hold her.”
Marcus took one wrist in each of his hands, and held them up to eye level. His grip was strong but not painful. His eyes locked with hers. Quill had no implement to whip her with, but he didn’t need one. His hand was plenty strong enough.
She didn’t cry out when he started to spank her, but the tears slid down her cheeks all the same. Marcus watched her cry with only mild interest in his eyes.
The sharp, hard smacks against her ass rang out in the room. It felt so loud she was sure it would call the whole party back there, even though the music on the other end of the museum was loud, and most wouldn’t venture beyond the ropes even if they heard a disturbance.
When he finished, he rubbed some of the sting out, then dipped a finger between her legs. He chuckled at her wetness.
“Get on your knees and take care of Marcus.”
“But I thought you said...”
“You can do it if I’m here and directly order it. I want my fantastic cocksucker serviced. So service him.”
Marcus released her wrists, and Saskia dropped to her knees in front of him. As she took Marcus into her mouth, Quill began to kiss him.
Then the door opened. She jerked away from Marcus and looked up, startled to find the blond athletic stranger smirking at her from the doorway.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude.” he said.
Quill laughed. “Of course you do, Phillip.” He gestured to the sofa against the wall. “Sit. Enjoy the show.”
He nodded and sat on the sofa, his legs spread wide, as if inviting Saskia to crawl over to him and blow him next. She wasn’t sure that wasn’t on the menu of options at this point.
“Miss Roth?” Quill said. “He can watch you blow Marcus, or he can watch you get punished again and then watch you blow Marcus. Your choice.”
She wasn’t sure where the resolve to obey him came from. Maybe it was that no matter how wrong and fucked up it all was, the pulsing need between her thighs only pulsed stronger with each successive minute inside this room and each degree farther they all fell into depravity.
Saskia dragged her tongue along the shaft and took Marcus back into her mouth. She used her hands to help her, but she was getting better at going deeper, longer, relaxing her throat like Quill had taught her even without the aid of something cold. Quill went back to kissing Marcus.
When Marcus came, she didn’t even think about not swallowing. It would be too mortifying for Quill’s friend to watch her get punished for that. And she knew exactly what her master wanted from her—though the why of the sharing still eluded her.
She scooted away from Marcus as he put his pants back on and zipped up. For now, he didn’t bother with the white linen shirt or jacket or shoes.
“May I have a look at her?” Phillip asked.
“Of course,” Quill said. He helped Saskia to her feet. “Go to him,” he whispered.
