“I'm going to ride you until you come,” she told him,
shifting her weight to drive more of him into her. He gritted his teeth as her
cheek rested against his. “This isn't scary. It's fun.”
“There will be something even more fun after,” Lynn
promised. “Not all men are here to hurt you.”
Harrold leaned into Lynn's hand on his cheek, then
turned to kiss Kendra's dark round one. He wished there were a way to please
both of them.
Kendra got her long legs in place and stretched toes to
floorboards. Then, she started slamming her hips
into his. She wasn't heavy, but obviously strong, the chair groaning as loudly
as either of them.
Lynn whispered to him again, “You will be strapped.”
The threat was enough nudge as Kendra squeezed him tight
in her own release. He clung to the black girl, biting into her shoulder as he
spurted stream after stream into her.
She sighed as she leaned back. Harrold held her and
kissed her arched neck. She laughed and the sound warmed him. There was no
laughter in his life.
“Nothing like boss man,” she repeated, taking Harrold's
face between her paler palms and kissing him again. Her tongue moved more
smoothly this time, finding his.
The kiss was interrupted by Lynn's command, “Kendra, on
your feet.”
Startled, the girl nearly sprang from Harrold, standing
by the bed with her head bowed and hands clasped before her.
“Harrold, kneel before her.”
He did so, staring in fascination at his white discharge
against her dark skin.
“No, love, face away.” Lynn took his shoulders and
positioned him. His flaccid cock began to stir. He had climaxed, which meant he
was about to be strapped.
“No, Ma'am,” Kendra said behind him, “I couldn't.”
“You will, or I will use it on you,” Lynn warned.
A hand combed through his dark curls, making his eyes
close heavily. “Forgive me,” Kendra whispered a moment before leather snapped
across his back.
This
was what he had come for. The sexual release was wonderful, but he could have
that at any whorehouse. This, the blazing pain, seared away the intangible
hurts. The aloof nature of his wife, the barrage from his employer and clients,
they whittled away his soul. All were burned in the fire blooming in that welt.
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