Chapter 10
The routine was grounding the next day. Kenny’s blowjob in the shower, Boone fucking her over his bed, inserting the hated egg and plug, breakfast, Silas and his damned list — this morning his belt to her spread-wide pussy, as many strikes as he could manage in two minutes, followed by an assfucking.
Chores, working out, lunch with Kenny, blowing him under his desk while he ate, another assfucking.
Grocery shopping, time to read and escape into a book, and then Silas returning home, fucking her ass minutes after he walked in the door.
It was an anchor of normality in a crazy, magical world.
When Kenny took her upstairs for her orgasm denial training, he looked at her a few moments after he had her bound with her legs spread, the Jennings gag holding her mouth impossibly wide.
“I tried this last night and it didn’t work. Let’s see if it works when you’re forced open physically. Close your eyes and empty your mind. No sex yet. Relax. Nothing will happen until your eyes are open again.”
She closed her eyes and heard Kenny’s voice in her head.
I love you, my needy little cunt.
Her eyes flew open, and she said, “I love you too, Sir. Can I talk back?”
“Try.”
It was an order, so she thought at him, I love you even when you don’t let me come, Sir.
He laughed. “Okay, wiseass. Time to get started.”
And with that, his fingers spread her pussy, his other hand manipulated her clit, and her job was to try to keep her arousal levels from sprinting out of control, barreling over the edge into an orgasm.
She was beyond grumpy when she went downstairs, and she grabbed potatoes and started slicing them.
She figured Kenny was telepathing Silas to explain she’d been shocked three fucking times because she hadn’t been able to hold her orgasms back.
Damn. She thought she almost had it.
“It’s the magic,” Silas said. “Fucks with control a little. Once everything stabilizes, you’ll be okay. Orgasm training through this is good. It’ll help you figure it out.”
“Why aren’t the three of you having to figure it out, Sir?”
“Kenny holds way more than this, and I took a much bigger hit when I was oathed in as beta. Practice makes perfect.”
“Where’s Boone?”
“Working on a surprise for you,” Kenny said, stepping into the kitchen.
“That’s what he’s doing. Not where he is, Sir.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting.”
She sighed and cut the potatoes at a more reasonable speed.
Boone led her outside after dinner, and she jumped on him and threw her arms and legs around him when she saw what he’d done.
Hay bales were a hundred yards behind the house, and he showed her the stacks of paper targets that went on them.
By the following week, she had a regular archery time penciled into the family calendar, which meant time alone with Boone, or sometimes the others, when they had time to watch.
But Boone shot with her and actually liked that she was better than him.
He didn’t mind her giving him pointers. He appreciated it.
Later that night, curled up on Kenny’s chest, she remembered the big fir out front and the pack’s decorating traditions. She’d been rotating through the same damned dresses since moving in, and she wanted to wear sweaters and boots — and a cute new outfit for the decorating party.
“Sir?” she asked.
Kenny raised an eyebrow and responded, “Fucktoy.”
“I’d like to buy some Christmas clothes, and I miss wearing sweaters. Can I maybe wear loose skirts and sweaters, instead of dresses?”
“I’ll consider it.”
“More dresses, too. Winter ones that are meant to be worn with boots. I know I can’t go shopping without one of you, Sir, so will you take me shopping before the big decorating party, so I can get a denim skirt and Christmas sweater?”
Kenny sighed like the weight of the world had landed on him, but there was a glint in his eyes that made her sure he’d already decided to. “My Friday afternoon is pretty open. I’ll leave to come get you at noon, possibly a little before if I can swing it.”
“Thank you, Sir!”
Boone rumbled from the other side of the bed, “Thanks for not asking me, my stretchy little fuckhole.”
“I do have another request, Sir. More than a handful of dresses to choose from at a time, please? Sweaters, skirts, dresses. At least thirty things? Pretty please? This means so much to me. I know some of your rules are about dehumanizing me, and I don’t want to fuck that up, Sir, but the pack sees me all the time, and you want me normal around them, but I’m not showing them who I am when I can’t dress with flair, Sir. ”
“We’ll keep that under consideration,” Kenny grumbled. “No more talking. If you don’t go to sleep, I’ll wear your ass out until I’m sure you’re too exhausted to keep me awake.”
She shut up and closed her eyes.
* * * *
Kenny was looking forward to a day with Willow by himself. She came out of the house in flats and a dress that was nicer than the ones she usually wore around the house. It was deep red with black trim, so the black leggings and low black boots looked nice under it.
And the fact he knew the leggings were crotchless so he could bend her over and fuck her at his whim nearly made his dick wake up and start growing.
“Where to first?” he asked.
“We’re going to end at Hamilton Place, Sir, but there are some boutiques I want to hit downtown. We’ll start at Warehouse Row.”
Something about that sentence seemed off. “How many places are we going?”
“Ummm, I mean, I mapped them out so we won’t have to backtrack, but I don’t get to go shopping often, and I really need new clothes to fit your rules, Sir.”
“You didn’t answer the question, Willow.”
“Fourteen sounds like a lot, Sir, but some are tiny boutiques I can look through in ten or fifteen minutes, and then try stuff on and we head to the next place. Only a handful are huge.”
The first hour wasn’t terrible. He shook his head or nodded when she came out of the dressing rooms, and when she tried to argue the first time, he telepathed Argue with me and everything you’ve taken back there to try on goes back on the racks.
At the third store, before she went into the dressing room, she showed him a dress.
“I love this designer, this cut. Everything about this dress. If it fits the way I want it to, I will need this dress, Sir. I don’t think you can understand how much I’m hoping this dress fits me the way I want it to. ”
He’d nodded and waved her in, and it turned out, he very much liked the dress on her, so it was fine, but he wasn’t actually sure what he’d have done if he’d hated it.
She was right about needing to be her own person around the pack, and that meant dressing for the everyday in a way that defined her. And yet, he didn’t want her in clothes he didn’t like. That one would take some thought.
She came out after trying things on a few stores later, three dresses, a skirt, and a couple of blouses to purchase, and she telepathed, You look like you’re being tortured, Sir.
That’s because I am, fucktoy. He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. This has to violate the Geneva Conventions.
“Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry you aren’t having fun.” She sounded genuinely sorry, but then telepathed, You could change the rule, Sir. I can text you pictures of me in dresses from the dressing room, and you can approve or deny.
He considered it about ten seconds, but letting her get rules changed by annoying them into doing it would be a bad precedent. Once she got this first shopping trip behind her, they’d take her more often so there’d be shorter trips.
He shook his head. No new clothes unless one of us approves them in person.
The second hour, he was ready to strangle the next salesperson who tried to hard-sell him expensive shit to buy his lovely girlfriend. Even seasoned wolves back off when he gives his patented, flat, dead-eyed glare, but not salespeople in boutiques wearing five-inch heels, apparently.
As they neared the fourth hour, when they left Kohls and she said they were headed to TJ Maxx, he pulled out his phone and texted Silas. Get your ass to TJ Maxx. Now. If you aren’t here in thirty minutes I’m going to do things to our hawk that even YOU wouldn’t consider doing to her.
* * * *
Silas wasn’t sure what had brought Kenny’s text on, but he changed shirts and shoes, and was on the road in four minutes.
It’s a thirty-minute drive under the best of circumstances, and the mall area in the weeks leading up to Christmas is a nightmare.
Three minutes before the deadline, he texted while at a backed-up four-way stop that he was five to ten minutes away.
He arrived seven minutes after the deadline and followed Willow’s bright laugh through racks of clothes to the dressing rooms, where Kenny looked like a man three breaths from murder.
Silas leaned against the nearest display and drawled, “I’m dying to know what’s got my unflappable boss looking like he’s ten seconds away from going full berserker. What has our lovely girl done to you?”
Kenny’s glare could have flattened a wolf.
Fuck you. She’s yours. You’ll see.
Willow came out in a beautiful dress about that time and turned in a slow circle with a huge smile.
Silas said, “I like,” at the same time Kenny said, “No.”
Her smile faded and she looked between the two. “I know who gets the final say, but can I maybe ask for a game of rock-paper-scissors just this one time?”
What’s wrong with it? Silas telepathed Kenny.
With that long, tight skirt we can’t just raise it up and fuck her.
True, but we get to look at her ass all molded and pert. Aloud, he said, “Turn around and face the wall, count to ten, and then turn to look at the boots to your left.”
Fine, Kenny said when she turned to show her perfect little ass filling the dress to perfection, it’s your call, but the first time I can’t get to her ass when I want it, I’m cutting the dress before I fuck with peeling it up her body.