The Prize by International Bestselling Author Ashe Barker

Chapter 9: Beg

"So tell me. Tell us what you want us to do to you next."

"I want... I need..."

"You want to come, is that it?"

"I... yes. Yes, Sir. Please..."

"Maybe. Soon. If you beg for it. You will beg, won't you, because you're a dirty, horny little subbie, all hot and wet and dying to come."

"Yes, Sir,"I moan as Mark continues to lay stroke after stroke across my body. The tendrils of his flogger wrap around my nipples, causing me to squeal and writhe. They catch the dangling chain, sending fresh waves of pain pulsing through my system. They flick my needy, greedy clit and I scream as I thrust my hips forward, seeking more.

"Ah, Jessie, we love the sounds you make when you're aroused, so wound up you can't think straight. Such a dirty girl, so greedy, so keen, so demanding. Who would have thought it?" He never relinquishes his grip on my hair, but still manages to snake his free hand around me to flick my clit, then slows his caress to idly circle the tip.

I groan and grind my mound against his palm, seeking the friction that will make everything perfect. Greg chuckles. "She's loving this, but I reckon she'll need a serious caning before we're finished. You just can't help yourself, can you, little slut?"

"No," I groan, miserably. "Please just do it. Do it!"

He removes his hand from my dripping pussy. "No, I think you can wait a bit longer yet."

Mark has transferred his attention to my lower body, flogging the fronts of my thighs and now moving back up towards my core. He flicks the strands across my widespread inner thighs now, angling his wrist to catch my clit and pussy. Each stroke is sublime, intense, yet not quite enough. I need them to, to...

"Please, I can't stand this. I need to come."

"Wait, Jessie. Wait until we give you permission." Greg's tone is stern. He means me to obey him or accept the consequences. I find I'm past caring.

"No, no, I can't. I just can't.... oh! Ooh." My final moan is one of joyous despair as the inevitable happens and my climax seizes me. I am quivering, my cunt contracting hard, spasming around nothing as Mark continues to flog me and Greg caresses my tortured clit. I hang on the cross, boneless, as waves of pleasure sizzle through me, intense and overwhelming.

Long moments crawl by, the tremors subside, my senses start to settle. Greg is still with me, murmuring something about sweet, naughty, greedy submissives. But he kisses my neck and his voice is rich, warm, like fine brandy.

Fingers are at my ankles, freeing me from the straps. Soon my wrists are released too, and I slump forward to be caught against Mark's chest. He lifts me, effortlessly, and carries me back to our sofa and abandoned drinks. Everything is just as we left it. Marks sits with me on his lap, and I curl my arm around his neck.

"Does that mean six strokes, Sir?" I ask. But I know the answer already.

Greg picks up all three drinks. "Six, girl, and counting. But first... I think we might all appreciate some privacy."

"Yeah," agrees Mark. "Let's get these clamps off, then we'll move on."

I wince and grasp his arms as Mark removes the clips from each of my nipples, then he asks me to spread my legs wide for him. I do as he tells me, leaning back against his chest as he reaches round me to loosen the clit clip. He gathers up all the bits and pieces and shoves them in his pocket. "I'll give you these back before you leave. So, can you walk yet, Jessie, or shall I carry you?"

"I'm fine, I think..." My head has cleared, more or less, and I'm ready for the next round.

Mark chuckles. "You are, sweetheart, damn fine. But oblige me this one time."

                                                                     *****

He stands effortlessly, cradling me in his arms, then follows Greg along the length of the play room. The door at the far end gives on to a wide corridor with smaller doors on each side. Greg stops at one and applies a key card to the lock. It clicks, he opens the door, and we enter.

The lighting is soft, seductive, but still bright enough that I can see this room is comfortably appointed as a luxurious fuck pad catering to BDSM tastes. A huge bed dominates, with a range of leather straps dangling from the head and the foot The duvet is a fresh cream shade which tones with the light purple curtains and lavender deep-pile carpet. A bowl on the dressing table is filled with condoms, tubes of lubricant, and tissues. There are a generous selection of sex toys too, gleaming and new in clear plastic wrappers.

Mark sets me on my feet and immediately I sink to my knees. This is the first time I have knelt for them, but it feels exactly right. I bow my head and place my hands palm up on my thighs, and I await instructions.

Neither man speaks to me, but I am intensely aware of their presence as they move around the room. They undress, dumping their clothes on the floor beside the bed. I sneak surreptitious glances, and my pussy spasms at the sight of two seriously impressive cocks, erect, hard for me. I am wet, hopelessly drenched, as I anticipate what I know comes next.