Chapter 15
Viola
Her fingers began to explore me with a knowledge that made my breath catch in my throat. Where Prince Hendren’s touch had been commanding and possessive, Mrs. Quinst’s was intuitive, finding places that made me gasp before I even knew they existed.
“Such lovely responses,” she murmured, her thumb circling that most sensitive spot with such evident knowledge that the very idea made me blush even hotter. “I can see why His Royal Highness was so taken with you. But there’s so much more you need to learn.”
I pulled against the restraints as pleasure built within me, my hips moving involuntarily against her skilled fingers. The rational part of my mind screamed in protest, but my body had begun to respond with terrible eagerness to her attentions.
“Please,” I gasped, though I wasn’t sure if I was begging her to stop or continue.
“Please what, dear?” she asked, her fingers slowing to an agonizing pace that left me trembling with need.
“I… I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice breaking with shame and desire.
She smiled with maternal satisfaction. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. You’re learning to surrender control, to let someone else decide what your body needs.”
Her other hand moved lower, tracing patterns I hadn’t expected. When her finger found the tight ring of my bottom, I jerked against the restraints with a strangled cry.
“Shh,” she whispered soothingly, even as her finger continued its gentle exploration. “This is part of your education too, dear. A properly trained woman must be prepared to give, and to receive, all forms of pleasure.”
The shame that flooded through me seemed overwhelming.
Having another woman touch me there, in that most private place that Prince Hendren had claimed so thoroughly just a few nights before, sent mortifying arousal crashing through my entire body.
But worse than the shame was the way my body responded—the involuntary clenching, the humiliating dampness that increased as her finger circled that forbidden entrance.
“No, please,” I whimpered, even as my hips moved traitorously against her touch. “Not there.”
“But you like it, don’t you?” she said softly, her finger pressing more insistently. “I can tell by the way you’re moving. Your body remembers what happened with your master, doesn’t it?”
I couldn’t deny it. The memory of His Royal Highness taking me there for the first time crashed over me—the burning stretch, the overwhelming fullness, the way my body had eventually betrayed me by finding pleasure in his use of me.
Now Mrs. Quinst’s knowing touch awakened those same shameful responses.
“Tell me about it,” she murmured, her finger beginning to breach the narrow ring with patient persistence. “What was it like when he took your anal virginity?”
“I can’t,” I sobbed, my body squirming helplessly as she worked her finger deeper. The sensation felt different from Prince Hendren’s forceful claiming—gentler, more coaxing, but no less invasive.
“Of course you can,” she said, adding a second finger with deliberate slowness. “It helps to talk about these experiences. How did it feel when he first entered you there?”
The dual invasion made me cry out, my back arching as shameful pleasure mixed with the burning stretch. “It hurt…” I gasped, “so… so much. B-but then… oh, God, then it felt…”
“Good?” she supplied gently, her fingers moving with practiced skill. “It’s natural, dear. The body learns to find pleasure even in submission. When I was your age, training under my Guardian and my Mistress, I felt the same shame the first time he took my bottom.”
The reminder that my elegant Mistress had once been in my position sent a fresh surge of heat through me. “You… was he… was he rough?”
“A little, yes,” she confirmed, her fingers continuing their maddening rhythm. “But I needed that. I was so ashamed of how my body responded, how I began to crave his dominance. But he taught me that shame and pleasure could coexist, that surrendering to both was the path to true fulfillment.”
I had started to sob openly now, my body writhing against the restraints as overwhelming sensations crashed through me. “Thank you,” I heard myself whisper through my tears, the words torn from somewhere deep inside me. “Thank you, Mistress.”
The bedroom door opened with a soft click, and Colonel Quinst’s voice filled the intimate space. “Don’t stop on my account, ladies. This is exactly what I hoped to see.”
Betty’s fingers stilled for a moment as she turned toward her husband, her cheeks flushed with arousal and something that looked like nervous pride. “Thank you, John. Viola is proving quite responsive to feminine instruction.”
“Indeed she is,” he replied, his eyes taking in the scene with evident satisfaction. “Continue with her training. I want to watch.”
Something shifted in Betty’s demeanor at her husband’s presence. Her maternal warmth took on a harder edge, as if she felt compelled to demonstrate her authority over me for his benefit. Her fingers resumed their movement with renewed intensity, making me gasp and writhe against the restraints.
“Viola,” she said, her voice carrying new command, “if you want to reach completion, you must ask permission properly. Tell me exactly what you need.”
The demand sent fresh mortification through me, but my body was too far gone to resist. “Please, Mistress,” I sobbed, “I need… I need to come. Please let me come.”
“Not yet,” she said firmly, her fingers slowing to an agonizing pace that left me trembling on the edge. “You’ll wait until I decide you’re ready.”
Colonel Quinst moved closer to the bed, his hands already working at his uniform buttons. “Betty, I want you to use your mouth on her while you continue with your fingers. Show me how well you can make her respond.”
“Yes, sir,” Betty replied immediately, her submission to her husband’s direction absolute even as she maintained control over me. She positioned herself between my spread thighs, her breath warm against my most intimate places.
When her lips found me, I cried out in shock at the sensation. The combination of her skilled tongue and the continued pressure of her fingers sent me instantly to the precipice of release.
“Please!” I begged desperately, my hips bucking against her mouth. “Please, Mistress, I can’t… I need to come!”
Betty lifted her head just enough to speak, her lips glistening. “Not yet, dear. You must learn patience.”
“Please, I’m begging you!” I sobbed, my entire body trembling with need.
Betty glanced toward her husband, who had shed his uniform jacket and was working on his shirt. “May she have release, sir?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “Give her what she needs.”
Betty’s mouth returned to me with renewed purpose, her tongue working with devastating skill while her fingers maintained their rhythm. The dual stimulation shattered my control completely, and I screamed as the first orgasm tore through me with overwhelming intensity.
But she didn’t stop. Even as I writhed in vain against my bonds, she continued her relentless assault on my senses, driving me toward a second peak with ruthless efficiency.
“Again,” Colonel Quinst commanded from beside the bed, his voice thick with arousal as he watched his wife work. “Make her scream again.”
Betty’s response was immediate, her tongue finding that perfect spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids. The second orgasm crashed over me before I had recovered from the first, tearing another desperate cry from my throat as my body convulsed against the restraints.
“Beautiful,” the colonel murmured, and I heard the rustle of fabric as more clothing hit the floor. “Once more, Betty. I want to see her completely broken before we proceed.”
“No, please,” I gasped, my voice raw from screaming. “I can’t…”
But Betty’s mouth was merciless, her fingers working inside me with devastating precision.
When the third climax hit, I thought I might actually lose consciousness from the intensity.
My scream echoed off the bedroom walls as my body shattered completely, every muscle trembling with the aftershocks.
When I finally opened my eyes, Colonel Quinst stood naked beside the bed, and the sight of him made my breath catch in my throat. His cock was magnificent—thick and long and demanding in a way that made my recently satisfied body clench with fresh, impossible need.
“Powers,” I whispered before I could stop myself, my eyes fixed on his imposing manhood. Something deep in my core twisted with desperate want, as if every orgasm Betty had given me had only prepared me for this moment.
I had never needed anything as desperately as I needed him inside me right now.
“Betty,” the colonel said, his voice carrying absolute authority, “I want you to queen her. Hard. Make her serve you properly while I decide what to do with that needy little cunt of hers.”
Betty’s eyes lit up with hungry anticipation as she moved up my restrained body. “Yes, sir,” she breathed, positioning herself over my face. “Viola, you’re going to learn exactly how to please a woman with your mouth now. It will be much easier for you if you remember you have no choice.”
I cried out in shock and shame as she lowered herself onto my face, the hot folds of her lightly furred pussy pressing against my lips. The musky taste of her arousal filled my mouth as she quickly began to ride me with increasing urgency, her hips moving in demanding circles.
“Use your tongue,” she gasped, her hands gripping the headboard for leverage. “That’s it… just like that…”
I felt Colonel Quinst moving between my spread thighs, his hands tracing patterns on my sensitive skin. When his mouth found my sex, I moaned against Betty’s flesh, the vibrations making her cry out in pleasure.
“Exquisite,” he murmured, his tongue exploring me thoroughly. “You taste like honey, Viola. Absolutely delicious.” He lifted his head and I whimpered into his wife’s sex, begging for more.
“My goodness,” Colonel Quinst said, his breath hot against my most sensitive places, “look how prominent your little clitoris has become, Viola. All this training has made you quite a randy little thing, hasn’t it?”
His words sent fresh shame spiraling through me even as Betty ground herself more insistently against my mouth, her breathing becoming ragged with approaching climax.
I tried to focus on serving my Mistress properly, my tongue working desperately against her slick folds as she rode my face with increasing abandon.
“Such a swollen little bud,” the colonel continued, his voice clinical yet hungry. “I think it deserves special attention.”
Without warning, his teeth closed gently around that most sensitive part of me, the careful pressure making me scream into Betty’s sex.
The sensation was overwhelming—part pleasure, part pain, entirely consuming.
My hips bucked helplessly against his mouth as he worried the tender flesh with deliberate precision.
“Oh, yes,” Betty gasped above me, her thighs trembling as my muffled cries vibrated against her. “She’s… she’s so good at this already…”
Colonel Quinst’s fingers joined his mouth, sliding deep inside me with practiced skill. The double assault shattered what little control I had left, and I came with devastating force, my body convulsing against the restraints as Betty ground herself harder against my face.
“That’s it,” the colonel murmured against my flesh, his fingers continuing their relentless rhythm. “Come for us, Viola. Show us how much you need this.”
Betty’s own climax followed moments later, her cries echoing through the bedroom as she shuddered above me. When she finally lifted herself away, I gasped for air, my face slick with her essence, my body still trembling from the intensity of my release.
“Beautiful,” Colonel Quinst said, rising to his knees between my spread thighs. His massive cock stood proudly erect, thick and demanding in a way that made my recently satisfied body clench with renewed need. “I’m quite certain you need this inside you now, don’t you, Viola?”
“Yes,” I whispered, the admission torn from my throat without conscious thought. “Please, Guardian, I need… I need your cock.”
He reached for the restraints at my ankles, freeing my legs with efficient movements. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
In one fluid motion, he lifted me from the bed, his strong arms positioning me so that I straddled his thighs as he knelt on the mattress. My wrists remained bound above my head, the position leaving me completely at his mercy as he guided his enormous manhood to my entrance.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his ice-blue eyes boring into mine. “I want to see your face when I fuck you.”