Her Troika (The Complete Story) (Dominion Trust Book 2) (13 page)

“Stop that,” Lino said. “You will stand. Still. You
will
make Lino proud.”

The only thing she wanted to make Lino do was collapse to the ground from a swift kick to the breadbasket. But as she eyed that whip, the stiff leather playing over her breasts, she stilled, knowing that a mere flick of his wrist could be agony.

“That is better,
fulana
.” Lino moved behind her, his hands checking the tightness of the harness straps at her back. “Soon, they’ll be here. Can you imagine? What they see? These
tetas
, so tight. Do they hurt?”

She lowered her head, biting her lower lip, her vision filled with the curves of her vulnerable breasts.

Don’t say anything. Don’t do it, idiot. He wants an excuse to use that whip.

“I know they do,” he murmured, with a chuckle. “That’s good. You will get used to it,
fulana
. You’ll have no choice.”

She firmed her chin, raised her head, and stared straight ahead, fixating on a lone soaring Ponderosa pine far off in the distance. Taking his bait was not happening, at least not yet. The bastard would have to do better — or worse — than that.

“Yes, here we are,” Lino said, tapping her shoulder with the whip. “Face your masters now,
fulana
. Let them see you.”

She turned at the direction of the whip until the morning sun shone right into her eyes, making her squint again. They stood on the flat, hard packed earth on the oval dirt track at the back of Kurt’s property. She remembered seeing the heavy earth mover out here, plowing up the sagebrush under, smoothing the earth, huge clouds of dust swirling in the whipping wind, the bright white of the railing being put up around the perimeter. She’d asked Kurt at the time what the track was for.

“For horses, I guess,” he’d said. She’d noted the uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders as he’d said it, but hadn’t pursued it further. Looking around her now, she considered that perhaps she might’ve been better served by being more curious.

Then once more, her husband and Derek stood before her, and again she felt the heat of her blush suffuse her cheeks. Hadn’t they already seen everything she had to show? So why was she reacting this way?

Derek’s eyes had dark circles below them, her eyes quickly taking in the way his white t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, how the breeze plastered the fabric to his lean, defined abdominals. Her husband was wearing the paddock boots he favored on his property, his snug jeans making it extremely difficult to keep her eyes up where they belonged.

He’s your husband, Breanna. What are you talking about?

Somehow though, it felt almost … out of line for her to be ogling her husband’s physique, as if it were a breach of some unspoken protocol.

Lino joined the two men. “First lesson. You give command, filly obeys.” Lino waved his hand toward the track behind her. “Run.”

“Wha …” Lino’s jaw clenched and she bit back the word.

Lino’s smile chilled her even more than the wind. “When the mare or filly does not listen, you make her listen.”

Breanna’s belly clenched, her mouth drying up. He didn’t really mean …

Lino reversed his whip and presented its braided leather handle to Derek.

“What the fuck am I doing with this?” Derek’s eyes darted from her to Kurt. Her husband clasped his arms over his chest, his expression stony. “I’m not whipping her.”

Lino shook his head. “She is yours. But if you wish to make her what she can become, you must train her. A filly must know who holds the reins. Always.”

Derek switched the whip from hand to hand, as if it might be hot. Then he took up the handle, his eyes avoiding hers.

Lino stepped forward, jabbing a finger between her fettered breasts. “Turn. Present to your Master.”

Breath escaped her lungs, her muscles unable to move, her body paralyzed by shock. Her nipples gathered into even harder points, throbbing in the rasp of the cold breeze.

Lino glanced at Derek, his gaze sharp. “Well?”

Derek’s eyes met hers, and in those depths, she saw the words he couldn’t say. Swallowing hard, she shuffled around, a puff of dust rising into the breeze.

You’re really doing this?

She had no clue what she was doing here, what her existence had become, but the warmth, and lust, and … concern she saw in Derek’s eyes gave her the courage to forge ahead.

“Now,” Lino said from behind her, clearing his throat. “When a filly disobeys him, the Master corrects her. She must learn consequences, learn obedience. This is her lot now. Do it.”

Oh God, Breanna!

The whip struck her, stinging, its surprising weight lifting her buttocks, sending them juddering. But the cry that escaped her lips faded into a confused sound.

“No, no. Not like this,” Lino said. “Much harder. She must feel.”

“Well, sue me asshole. It’s not like I’ve got experience whipping a girl’s ass.”

Breanna bit her lip to keep from laughing. She liked him, liked the way he fought against this, even in the smallest of ways. Even though she knew — judging from the mouthwatering bulges she’d seen between both Derek’s and Kurt’s legs — what her predicament was doing to those men.

“Derek, hang on—” The cautious note in her husband's deep voice unsettled her.

Lino sighed. “Here, like this.”

For a second the world froze, even the currents of the air seeming to calm, then she yelped as a line of fire blazed across both her ass cheeks.

“Now run,
fulana
.”

Still trying to process the fire lancing its way into the flesh of her buttocks she stood still.

No, wait!

Another stroke slashed across her buttocks, even harder this time, and she cried out, her voice high-pitched, breaking on the keenest note.

“Run.”

Her legs moved before her brain had a chance to interfere and she shambled off, the heavy weight of the boots, and her arms bound securely behind her completely throwing off her stride. Her breasts still bounced, despite their bindings, and she was thankful the men were unable to see them from their vantage point behind her.

Oh sure, Breanna. They’ll just watch your jiggling naked ass and your bare pussy instead. Much better.

She followed the track, hoping to God she didn’t fall, knowing it would hurt without the use of arms to catch herself. She concentrated on lifting the heavy boots enough to clear the ground, but half the time her strides were more a sort of quick shuffling than anything else. The pinioned arms made her bend over slightly, trying to find the new center of gravity, the position making her breasts seem to swing even more. Absurdly, she found herself wishing Lino had bound them much tighter. Even that would be preferable to them swinging and bouncing on her chest for all to see, drawing those male eyes the way struggling prey draws a predator.

The track stretched before her, the white railing following and for the briefest of moments felt relief at escaping that cruel whip. Her breath labored further and she kept running, her legs beginning to tire from the heavy boots, halfway around the track she looked for them. The three figures stood together, watching her closely, and the feeling of those male eyes on her confused her, flustered her. She stumbled, nearly falling, then caught her footing once more. Sweat beaded at her temples, her breath beginning to rasp. She slowed her run, hoping for respite.

“No!” Distance and the swirling breeze, lent a deceptive wavering note to Lino’s voice. “You run!”

Picking up the pace, her lungs beginning to burn, she rounded the final turn, the three men waiting for her.

And unerringly, her eye found the whip clenched in readiness in Lino’s fist. Though every part of her wanted to run far away from its deadly length, from Lino’s callousness, she nonetheless obeyed, thinking instead of her husband’s strong arms, of the liquid warmth she saw in Derek’s beautiful eyes.

Courage, Breanna.

She lifted her chin, and picked up her speed.

Chapter Twelve

O
n a day of so many firsts, there was yet another as he watched her run toward them. Derek was sure he’d never seen something so strangely beautiful; her tall, long lines emphasized by those outlandish heavy boots, the arms tied back, the heavy breasts, as if calling to him, bouncing along to the rhythm of her gait. Her bare sex winked at him between the pumping of trim thighs as she struggled against her bonds, running as best she could toward them, toward the next step in whatever in God’s name was happening here.

“See how she fights it?” Lino pointed. “You must watch that in her. She’s strong.”

“You have no idea,” Kurt muttered, with a grin. “But you will.”

The silver buckles of the harness glinted in the bright sunlight as she drew nearer, the sound of his boots pounding the earth just starting to reach them. Her face was flushed with exertion, a sheen of sweat visible on her skin, her hair blowing about her head.

“Next time, we need to tie her hair back before she inhales it.” Derek had never thought about that possibility before, but without hands and with the length of that blonde hair, he saw it as a real danger.

“Some Owners remove the problem.”

Derek glanced at Lino. “Remove? Like cut it short?” He tried to picture Breanna with a short little pixie cut, and it didn’t seem to fit her.

But dressing her up in harness and boots and treating her like a draft animal does fit her?

He was shaken by the answer to that question that hovered in the back of his mind, that quiet voice inside him already whispering, urging him to embrace those urges he’d never had the courage to confront before.

“No cut short. Shave it.” Lino grinned. “All of it.”

“Jesus,” Kurt whispered.

“Nobody is shaving her head.”

“As you say, Mr. Derek. She is yours. But some Owners find it … appeals” Lino strode forward, bellowing. “Keep going! No stop, until you’re told!”

Derek grabbed at Lino’s arm. “Wait, she’s tired—”

Breanna loped by, head down, big breasts bouncing in the clutch of the straps. He could hear her breathing, a rasping sound over the breeze. Lino took a step toward her swinging his crop sidearm, the leather snapping across her ass.

“Fuck!” She skipped sideways, stumbling. Then she caught her footing, and zipped away as fast as the heavy boots allowed her.

“NO!” Derek strode after Lino, not sure what he was going to do once he reached him. He didn’t like the man’s cruelty, he knew that, but the thought of wielding the crop himself … confused him.

“Wait, goddammit!” Kurt snatched Derek’s arm, holding him back. “Just let him be for now. He knows what he’s doing.”

Derek whirled on his friend. “You’re okay with him whipping your wife’s ass like she’s a horse or something?”

“Yes, I am.” Kurt locked his gaze with Derek. “This is what she wanted, Derek. It’s well known what some of the women go through when they go up for a Term. She knew what she was getting into.”

“Really?” Derek’s hand shot out, pointing at the flagging woman on the other side of the track. “Because this doesn’t look like anything she’d bargained for.”

“It is, you’ve gotta trust me on this. Be cool, remember?”

Lino moved between the two men looking from Kurt then to Derek. “This is normal, Mr. Derek. This is first part of training.”

“What’s that? Hurting her? Beating her like a rented fucking mule?”

Lino wasn’t quite able to stifle a smile. “I like that. But no, that’s not what this is.”

Derek grabbed Lino’s shirt, pulling him closer. “Then it’s time to tell me what this is then.”

The Spaniard’s eyes met his, and his hand closed over Derek’s fist with a surprising strength, breaking his grip and pushing it away. “You will not touch me, Mr. Derek. Ever.”

“Maybe this isn’t going to work, after all.” Kurt shook his head, looking down. “I thought, maybe it would be easier … ”

“Kurt, why in God’s name am I here? Seriously?” He looked again at Breanna, now rounding the third turn, getting closer now. “She’s
your
wife. You could just be doing all of this yourself, if this is what she wants.”

“No, I can’t.” Kurt met his eyes, and Derek saw the anguish there. “And that’s why you’re here.”

“What? But I thought … you were in on all of this? The dominance and submission thing we talked about, right?” The words felt odd coming out of his mouth. “All of this. Roleplaying? You’re not into this?”

Kurt turned, gazing at his laboring, bound wife. “This is something … I can’t bring myself to do.”

“Why? You said you spank her and stuff all the time.”

“There’s a lot more to this than that, Derek.” Kurt turned, sliding a glance at Lino. “You’ll see.”

“Only the very beginning, Mr. Derek.” Lino’s voice softened. “Nothing will be done more than what she can take. This is why we train them. So that they are ready.”

“For what?” Derek watched Breanna as she pulled around the final turn, dust kicking up under her boots, her speed markedly slower.