Page 101 of Shamefully Trained

Silence fell for a moment. Gowry’s hand had stilled on his rigid erection. Porter’s expression was unreadable.

I knew they understood. That seemed to make the humiliation truly exquisite: I had asked for a thing that men understood—something they proposed, or simply commanded, not something a girl asked for.

My pulse hammered. “Please, sir,” I said again, more urgently. “I want to try taking you both. Please.”

Gowry’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Porter’s expression changed almost imperceptibly, with a sharpened concentration that made my body tighten all over.

“You’re asking for double penetration,” he said.

The explicitness of hearing it named made me nearly whimper. “Yes, sir.”

“You’ve never done it.”

“No, sir.” I swallowed. “But I… I want…” My voice broke on the nakedness of the truth. “I want more. Please.”

Gowry gave a low, thoughtful sound that might have been amusement or interest or both. “Ambitious, isn’t she.”

“She is,” Porter said.

I knelt there between them, naked except for the red lace, caned, used, and asking for more… as if I had no remaining pretense of being anything but Porter’s naughty fuck toy, to be shared as he saw fit, and I needed. The remains of the self-respecting young woman who had come to this office two weeks ago, in search of some shameful advantage over a powerful senator noted that I should feel mortified about that.

Instead I could feel how it had made me even wetter, down there where my need to serve flamed like a fiery brand.

Porter stepped closer. His fingers came under my chin and tipped my face up to his. “Look at me.”

I did.

“Do you know what you’re asking for?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me.”

I could barely get air into my lungs. “I’m asking to be fucked by both of you,” I whispered. “At the same time.”

His eyes held mine. “Where?”

I trembled. “In my mouth and… and… in… in my… my cunt.” I bit my lip and found myself unable to suppress the tiny whine that vibrated in my nose. I spoke again, unable to stop the shameful words from emerging. “Or… or in my… my ass, if you… if you choose, sir.”

A dark heat moved through his gaze at that. My whole body answered.

Gowry had come a little nearer, too, still pumping his hardness in his hand. I could feel him there, not touching me yet, looming. “You’ve made quite a creature of her, Bradford.”

“Yes,” Porter said softly, still looking at me. “I think so.”

Then his hand left my chin and moved to the back of my neck, firm and possessive.

“Stand up,” he said. “Slowly. Let’s see how serious you are.”

I obeyed though my knees felt weak and my bottom still ached in six narrow, vivid lines. Porter’s hand remained at the back of my neck while I rose, and the simple steadiness of it made me feel led, guided.

Gowry stepped aside to let me up, but he didn’t move very far away, just a foot or two. I could feel the heat of his body and the deliberate attention of his gaze on the red lace, on my bare thighs, on the little shiver that went through me when I straightened fully.

Porter guided me across the room. There was a low table in front of the seating area, polished dark wood, broad enough to hold me but not by much.

“Hands and knees,” he said.

A sound of embarrassment escaped me before I could stop it. The office seemed suddenly too elegant, too official, too full of dark leather and male power for what he was telling me to do. I drew back a little, but my sponsor urged me forward, towards the tabletop.