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She looked at her master, uncertain, her eyes begging. The man on the sofa was not without his charms, even though she’d sought to escape him earlier. She hadn’t been repulsed, just uncomfortable and partly afraid that she might get in trouble for appearing to flirt with someone else. Quill giving him some level of approval softened her to the idea.
She moved on shaking legs to Phillip. He held out both hands to her, and she took them when she reached him. He held her steady.
“Spread your legs, petal,” he said.
Saskia looked over her shoulder to Quill. He nodded and she widened her stance.
Phillip slid his hand between her legs. He looked past her to Quill. “How much?”
“I’m not ready to share her yet.”
Saskia released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“Oh?” he said mildly.
“I’d like to fuck her first,” Quill said.
Phillip seemed surprised by the admission that her master hadn’t taken her yet. He was late tothatparty. She’d been in a perpetual state of surprise about his restraint and increasingly convinced he wasn’t into her at all. Maybe not even that into women.
“Saskia?” Quill said.
“Y-yes, Master?”
“I’ll fuck you if you agree to let Phillip and Marcus watch.”
Marcus had already joined Phillip on the sofa. They both looked expectant, ready to be entertained.
“She’s not a virgin, is she?” Phillip asked.
“She’s not,” Quill confirmed.
“Pity. Watching you deflower that sweet little redhead is one of my fondest memories.”
She couldn’t believe they were discussing her as if she were livestock ready to be bred. And she couldn’t believe how hot it was getting her. She felt that heat rise to her face and was thankful for the low lighting that shielded how deep her blush really went.
“Well, Saskia, how badly do you want my cock?”
Quill had already recovered from Marcus’s mouth. He was full and thick and hard again, and the only thing she wanted in the world right now was for that hard thickness to be inside her. She could already imagine how he’d stretch her, just like the large glass toy from his office.
She whimpered. “Please, Master.” The tears that slid down her face were equal parts need and fear.
He smirked. “Is that please, Master no, or please, Master yes? I’m feeling strangely benevolent tonight, so think it through before you answer.”
Her eyes met his. Her breath rose and fell heavy in her chest. “Please, fuck me.”
His brow arched in mock surprise. “Saskia! In front of Phillip and Marcus? You filthy slut. Well, crawl over here. I want you on your hands and knees where you can look into their eyes, and I want them to be able to watch your tits bounce with each thrust.”
The breath caught in her throat.
“Is that too much for you?”
“N-no, Master.” If she couldn’t please him with her art, at the very least she could do it with her body and her obedience. She hoped.
She crawled across the floor to Quill and positioned herself as he’d asked. She shivered as he stroked down her spine. His fingertips started at the base of her neck and grazed all the way to the concave hollow just above her ass. His hands lingered there on her cheeks. Saskia’s gaze dropped to the ground.
A hard smack landed, and she gasped.
“Don’t look at the ground. I told you where I wanted you to look. Lock eyes with Phillip. He’ll tell me if you stray.”
