"Suck-up," Geoff grumbled. Rising from the couch, he took her other hand. Her fingers were tense, but she curled them over his, absorbing the strength and heat as he brought her to her feet. "Stand up straight, Samantha Beth. You wanted us to look at you. So let us look."
She swallowed, but when she would have spoken, he touched her mouth. "Not a word. Unless you want me to take off those nonexistent panties, stick them in your mouth and keep them there with duct tape."
She stilled. His tone was velvet over steel, as was his expression, and she wasn't the only one brought up short by it, or by the shocking words. Chris's fingers had dropped to caress her ankle, and now they paused, as if he'd looked up at Geoff to see if the menacing tenor was a joke. It hadn't been, but Geoff tightened his fingers on her, caressing her pulse.
"It's all right. Come on, sweetheart."
He called her that when he wanted to reassure her, and it worked. She let out an unsteady breath. Chris rose with a warm look, which helped further. Geoff led her to his room and snapped on the light. "Your gift is in a box under the bed."
When he didn't move to get it, she moistened her lips. Chris twitched beside her, but Geoff shifted. She was pretty sure he'd motioned to Chris to let her get it. In this outfit, that would be quite a show. She started to move toward the side, so she wouldn't be sticking her ass up in front of them, but Geoff spoke.
"You'll reach it easier from the end of the bed."
She met his gaze. If he'd still had that terrifyingly cool look, she honestly might have bolted, but he gave her a wink, and a genuine smile. "You know how Chris is about watching a woman bend over. Don't deprive him of the small joys in life."
She chuckled nervously. "How about you?"
His eyes flamed, a sudden lick of fire she felt on every erogenous zone on her body. "Everything you do only makes me want you more, Sam."
He nodded toward the bed again. She hesitated as she got on her hands and knees, that sense of shame still interfering with her reaction, but then she thought of Chris in the shower, Geoff meeting her at the door. She was theirs, damn it, and she wanted them to know it, see it, push past whatever bullshit this was to get back to what she'd felt with them this weekend. Both of them in tune with her body and her mind, touching her, holding her, taking her over peak after peak.
So fine. She could make that really clear. She dropped to her knees and, with a flexibility that made her very pleased with her yoga practice, she went down on her elbows in a move that stretched out her back like a cat and lifted her ass. As she ducked her head to locate the box, her knees were spread enough they'd be seeing the crotch of her hot pink panties through the loose opening of the short shorts.
"You've got this pretty far back," she said, her voice muffled.
"I know how nosy you get."
"I would never go through your things without you saying it was okay," she said, coming out with the box and a mock-indignant look, an attempt to coax them all back to a more teasing mood. She wished she'd worn the other pajamas. "Unlike other people who knew where I keep my vibrator."
"You won't go through my things, but you'll masturbate on my bed." Geoff crossed his arms. "Want to quibble over privacy issues?"
She stuck her tongue out at him, but when he merely raised a brow, unsmiling, he chased her teasing away like a strong wind dispersing a cloud. She was on her knees at his feet, a distinct psychological disadvantage, so she turned her attention to the package. They'd already wrapped it. Despite the weird mood in the room, it touched her to see the gray-and-silver packaging with the curly ribbon. They'd probably had the store wrap it up, but even so.
"Pull the storage box out," Geoff ordered in a neutral tone. "The one that was next to it."
She did so, this time her fingers trembling, because the heat of their attention on her nearly bare haunches felt like burning flame, incinerating her stomach and lower areas, an uncomfortable mix of arousal and humiliation.
When she sat back on her heels, Geoff was right behind her. She drew in a startled breath as he gripped her breasts in the tight T-shirt and used that firm hold to bring her off her heels, standing her upon her knees as he fondled her curves, plucked at her nipples. The inexorable handling of her body made her panties wetter than they already were. He didn't let her lean up against him, straight-arming her so it was all about what he wanted to do. As if he was both rewarding and punishing her. Chris's simmering look felt like his hands were on her as well.
"Geoff . . ." she whispered.
"Open your gift, Sam," he said, moving away from her.
He must have read the incoherent plea she was feeling, for forgiveness, for something, because his expression softened. "Open the gift, sweetheart," he said. "It will be all right."
Chris stroked her hair back from her face. "If you don't like it, we can take it back."
"If you two bought it, I'll love it," she said. They'd never bought her a gift she didn't adore. Sometimes they knew what she wanted better than she herself did, though Geoff had teased her once that they rarely had the chance to prove it, since she usually printed out and circled exactly whatever it was she wanted for birthdays or Christmas. Within the strict budget they'd set.
The storage box didn't give her any clues to its contents, but the ribbon on the wrapped package was held in place with a pretty silver tag that said Naughty Bits. Chris sat down on the bed next to where she was kneeling, while Geoff took a seat in a chair. She looked up at him. "May I open it?"
He'd already told her she could, but their sudden intimacy made things feel . . . better, clearer. Maybe she was just looking for the additional reinforcement, offering him proof that she wanted to behave, to do the right things.
At his nod, she freed the tape at the corners and peeled back the wrapping paper. Madison, the owner of Naughty Bits, used the good, thick kind. The box was about the size of a dress box. When she pulled off the lid, her eyes widened.
"Oh, guys. You shouldn't have."
But she was amazed and thrilled that they had. It was the full-head mask she'd seen at the shop. It was designed to look like a bird's head, with silver-gray tightly overlapped feathers. It would be a perfect match for the silver-gray corset Geoff had bought for her, which they'd not yet had a chance to try out. She fingered the soft, silky mask. "It's so beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as it'll be when you're wearing it," Geoff said. Chris's fingertips whispered along her collarbone, tracing bare skin under her T-shirt. She pressed her cheek to his hand briefly as Geoff spoke, reaching out to touch her hair. "You can wear this the night we go to Madison's event."
"I hope you guys will dress up, too," she said.
"Well, now that you mention it, I got something for Chris, too. It's in the other box." He tossed a grin at Chris. "I didn't wrap yours, so no pouting."
Chris rolled his eyes. "You're so insensitive to my feelings," he complained in a girlish tone.
She chuckled but noticed Chris looked a little wary when she opened the lid of the storage box. All the things they'd bought from Naughty Bits were there in neat arrangement. Rope, Velcro cuffs, the soft flogger. The gray corset. She passed her fingers over the flogger, wondering, thinking, but took her fingers away quickly when Geoff gave her a glance. My toys, not yours, that look clearly said, which was kind of thrilling.
"It's in the purple bag," he told Chris. Chris picked it up and shook out the contents, a mix of latex, straps and metal. As he separated the two items and spread them out, Sam felt a little leap in her chest.
"No way," Chris said emphatically.
It was a pair of latex pants and an upper-body harness. When she touched the thin material of the pants, she could tell they were intended to fit Chris like a second skin. She thought of the fabric pasting itself to the muscular curves of his ass, clinging to the weight of his testicles and cock, which would be nice and erect. The straps would delineate every roll of biceps and pecs, like those of a barbarian warrior.
"A suitable look for a dove's guardian, I
thought," Geoff said, unperturbed by Chris's abject refusal. "Sam, what do you think?"
"If he wears it, I won't be able to stop looking at him. Just thinking about him in it makes me want him a hundred different ways."
Chris blinked as a slow smile crossed Geoff's face. "Our dove is at her most irresistible when she's unfiltered. And honest."
That last word hit Sam in a way that made her eyes slide away from Geoff's again. She could feel him marking her avoidance like a brand on her cheek.
Chris grimaced. "Yeah. And you knew I couldn't say no if she wanted me to wear it."
Sam put a hand on his arm. "Don't worry. I bet there will be plenty of people dressing up. I'll call Madison and make sure. But if you feel embarrassed, you don't have to do it. Really."
Chris's expression grew troubled. "Sam, I can't say no to anything you want. Do you get that, what it means?"
She bit her lip, uncertain of how to reply. Geoff stepped in to answer for her. "Yes, she does. Without a doubt. But she's forgotten that with that power comes a pretty serious responsibility."
Sam's brow creased. "I just said he didn't--"
"Not that. Look at me, Sam." When she complied, reluctantly, Geoff spoke in an even tone. "You wore this outfit, thinking you could make me override the rules I set about these next couple of days, which were intended to give all of us time to consider what we're doing here. It was a direct challenge. You crave submission, but you're trying to push us around." He shifted his glance to Chris. "Which means she's being a brat."
"I wasn't trying to act that way," she protested.
"It was disrespectful." Geoff shot her an ominous look she wasn't sure how to interpret. She usually noticed the playful beneath the facade, but he didn't look playful at all. "If all you want is a little slap and tickle, fun in the bedroom, that's a whole different ball of wax from what we did this weekend. Is that what you're wanting?"
He took a step forward. She suppressed an irrational desire to scoot backward on her knees. So far, she'd experienced flashes of the pure, undiluted version of the type of Dom Geoff could be, enough to know his particular blend of domination and sadism called to the kind of submissive she was. However, the manner in which she was starting to tremble now, with a mix of anticipation and anxious fear that coiled into a tight ball of sexual and emotional need, told her just how good a match it was.
She could stand up, tell him to piss off. If she did only want the slap and tickle he'd just described, that's exactly what she would have done. Instead she held her spot on her knees, tilting her head as he took another step toward her. She could almost hear the click as the give-and-take sharpened, coming into better focus for both of them.
"No, I don't think so." She was barely whispering.
"You don't think so. You're not sure, because instead of thinking about what's really happening here, you've been fucking with our heads."
"Geoff," Chris said, low.
"It's okay, Chris," her Master said. "Trust me."
She noticed his tone changed when he talked to Chris. Still in control, but more peer to peer, asking Chris to trust his lead based on the friendship they shared. Chris said nothing further, though she could feel his tension and uncertainty, a different form of her own. A muscle flexed in Geoff's jaw, but his hazel eyes never left hers.
"There's nothing we take more seriously than your well-being, Sam. That requires your respect. As Chris said, there's nothing we won't do for you, and when you give us conflicting desires and push it, that's moving right into brat territory."
Her gaze darted to Chris. In a blink, Geoff closed the distance between them and jerked her face back up to look at him. "Looking over at him to see if he can protect you, because he has the softer heart or is less experienced in dealing with a submissive like you, is not the way to go. Unless you want the punishment to be worse."
"No sir," she stammered. As his expression hardened, she amended that. "No, Master."
Just like that, things started to level out. That itchy-in-her-own-skin feeling receded, her heart emerging from the confusing thicket of emotions with its sharp barbs. Geoff took such uncertainty away when he took full command. Had that been the problem all along? This weekend had opened a whole tangle of things for her and, as soon as things returned to a normal routine, she'd been floundering. Had putting on the outfit, teasing them like this, been like a call for help, not wanting to have to exercise her own self-control? She wasn't that kind of person. Yet she wanted to be sure Chris and Geoff would hold the reins when she needed leveling out. Was that wrong? Inexplicably, tears stabbed at her eyes. Why couldn't she figure this out for herself?
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'd never treat you guys like that. Not . . . if I'd been thinking."
Geoff still held her chin, making her look at him. While she was flushed, under that she felt pale, shaky. He was waiting, quiet now, just watching her. When he lifted the hand at his side, a small twitch, she expected it was a signal for patience to Chris, and his quiet words toward the other man confirmed it.
"She's different from you, Chris," he said, a cryptic warning. "She needs a stronger hand. Wants a stronger hand."
He was waiting for her to find it, to figure it out. And she did. Something locked down, centered. Though she was nervous about being so blatant in front of Chris, she lowered her eyes. She knew Geoff was finding his center in all of this, learning how to be the right kind of Master for her, and they were having to trust each other along that new path. She had to admit he'd hit the right trigger this time, because the words came to her lips practically without thought.
"Yes sir. I was wrong. Please forgive me."
"Will punishment help you forgive yourself?"
The relief that spread through her chest answered that. Wondering at it, she nodded, and his grip tightened. "Yes, Master."
"All right, then. Stand up and take off everything you're wearing. Those clothes are intended to tempt your Masters. Naked, you have nothing to use for guile. You're simply ours, serving our will. When you've done that, pull two sets of Velcro cuffs out of the box and hand them to me."
She could say this was too much, game over, but Chris's watching silence and something else swirling in her breast told her that this wasn't too much. She swallowed, a silent assent. When Geoff stepped back, she removed her clothes under their intent regard, folded and set them aside. Then she bent and removed the cuffs from the box. She brought them to Geoff and his fingers brushed hers. She shivered.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No sir. Just nervous. And unsettled. But right, too, for the first time all day."
Geoff swept her hair off her brow, and she welcomed the caressing touch like water for thirst. "We love you, Sam. You understand that? If there's anything you can't handle, that feels wrong to you, you tell me. And we won't be angry with you. Do you understand I'm not angry with you now?"
She nodded.
"I don't think Chris is as sure," he said. "He looks ready to whisk you away from me. Which is why he's going to be the one punishing you."
In her peripheral vision, Chris started. While she wondered if he'd go along with that, Sam understood her Master's decision. He and Chris would do anything she truly desired, but Geoff exercised a certain level of intuition and judgment to figure out what those desires truly were. Chris would simply take at face value what she said she desired, because that was the kind of heart he had: open and generous, no guile to him.
She'd tested Geoff, knowing subconsciously he'd react just as he had, tolerating that shit only so far. Whereas Chris was her safety net, the definition of home, a place of unconditional acceptance. Which made him a treasure she should never take for granted, and Geoff was going to make sure she didn't. Her punishment had to come from Chris, because her infraction against him was worse.
She expected to be told to kneel again or to stretch out on the bed. Instead, Geoff clasped her elbow and guided her out of the room. Taking her down the hallway, he
turned left and went through the laundry room to pass through the door to the garage, Chris following behind them with his heavy tread.
Since they'd told her she couldn't go into the garage, she'd imagined a lot of things, but it was still a crazy, arousing shock to find a spanking bench, with polished cherry-colored wood and a blue cushion. Geoff propelled her toward it as her stomach somersaulted. "What do you think?" he asked. "It could use another coat of finish, and we're still making some modifications, but it's close to being all done."
"I . . . I love it." She was also a little terrified, realizing they could restrain her on it, making her truly helpless. She suspected Geoff planned to prove that to her right now.
Taking the cuffs from her hand, he clasped her wrists and guided her fingertips to the bench, permitting her to explore the way it felt.
"When it's all done, we'll put you on your stomach on the bench, and bend your legs so your shins are flat on these side pieces," he said. "It's like that Child's Pose you do for yoga, which keeps you accessible for spanking, switching, fucking your ass or cunt . . . whatever we want to do."
Her fingers trembled and his grip on her wrist tightened, moving her hand to the cushion, trailing her fingers along that edge. "When we need it, there will be an adjustable chin piece to hold your head up, so we can see every reaction on your beautiful face to what we're doing to you. It will also support your neck when you take either of us in your mouth. Do you like your gift?"
"Yes," she said, her voice hoarse. "Very much." There were rings at different places along the sides that would hold straps or cuffs or whatever else he'd use to restrain her.
"Good. We'll look forward to using it that way, at another time. But this is about punishment, isn't it? A punishment you need."
"Yes sir."
Geoff put his palm on her back, applying pressure so she was perpendicular to the bench, bending over it. The lower piece he'd described as being there to support her shin pressed like a bar against her hipbones.
"Stay like that," Geoff ordered. She couldn't see Chris, but she knew he was there, standing outside her line of vision, watching.
Removing a tie-down strap from the drawer of a toolbox, Geoff attached it to the short end of the bench. He ran the strap over the back of her neck and fixed it to the other end, ratcheting it down so she was held in her bent-over position. He used the cuffs to stretch her arms out across the bench and hook them to the same ring. The tops of her breasts pressed against the cushion. Her legs started to quake as he fixed the second set of cuffs to her ankles and hooked them to the wooden legs so her thighs were spread apart. Geoff smoothed a hand down her back, played with the ends of her hair.