Chapter Six
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Alessia
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This can't be happening to me.
How did a perfectly normal day turn into such a full-blown disaster of such epic proportions, I'm currently trying to bulldoze my way through Jasper's wall of muscle to get out the door.
Chuckling, he picks me up easily, tosses me over his shoulder and carries me to the center of the room.
He then finds the end of the sheet and pulls so hard, yet so effortlessly, I'm forced into a spinning motion, arms flailing, thinking I'm going to fall on my face.
But when the last of the sheet gives way and I barely have time to block my breasts and private parts from their view, Garrison picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder and carries me to a desk where Layton is waiting with his tie in his hand.
"Now just wait a minute. Just a small minute, please," I plead as Garrison forces me over the desk, my arms outstretched, balancing on the tips of my toes.
Layton captures my wrist in his massive hand and, using his tie, binds me to the leg of the desk, the tie just long enough.
Jasper uses his tie to bind my other wrist, leaving me with the top half of my body pressed into the cool, lacquered wood of the desk, my ass on display, my calves straining to keep my toes on the floor.
"Okay. Fine. I meant to steal the pearls. There. Now it's a real crime. You have to call the cops."
"We said we handle our business ourselves, Alessia," Layton says.
"Yes, yes, of course," I cry frantically. "Sure you can handle a little unsolicited use of your bath and bed yourselves, but I admitted to a crime. It's a clear felony now. I was going to steal the priceless pearls. I need to be arrested, and the key thrown away. Forever."
Dear god. Even now, when I’m in this state my pussy is dripping with wetness. A minute longer and they'll be able to smell my arousal. I would choose jail over that anytime.
"You weren't going to steal the pearls, sweetheart," Garrison says softly. "But as we said before, if you tell us why you're seemingly so obsessed with them, that will change everything."
"I need the money; I was going to sell them. I—"
The rest of whatever I was going to say is drowned out by the echo of Layton's hand on my butt. That makes it sound like he placed his palm on me then tapped a little.
No. The crazy man spanked me. Hard. So hard my lip is quivering and my skin is sizzling.
"Okay, that was uncalled for," I stammer, trying to sound outraged, but how can I when I want to wail like a banshee in despair instead.
"You, sir, are—"
Then it's Garrison. He spanks me a little below where Layton left his mark, and I experience everything firsthand all over again.
Dear god. Why does it burn so much?
I can barely catch my breath when Jasper takes a swing at me with his palm on my butt, and he, the sadist, covers a little of both Layton's and Garrison's prints.
Holy motherfucker.
Tears drip from my eyes and pool onto the table. My entire body feels the sting of their hands.
"You crazy, crazy people. I want to go to jail. Take me there right now," I growl, hiss, and wail, and do it all over again when they spank me again.
Yet through it all, I can't help myself. I try to twist my head around. I want to see the patterns they'd made on my butt.
What is wrong with me? Why would I want to see the evidence of their punishment? Am I mad?
But my unhinged monologue delves into something else as my butt morphs from super-hot to eternally hot. I'm sure there are flames coming out of me.
They don't let up no matter what I say. But then again, I'm not telling them what they want to hear. That will stay with me until the day I die.
I squash my eyes together tightly, as if doing so could stop the deluge of wetness making my thighs slick as I press them together. Anything to stop the flood of lust dripping from me.
My body quakes. My nipples ache so much and they're so hot I've heated the coolness of the gleaming wood they're pinned against.
I hop from foot to foot, as if I want to pee, but I don't. I just want the wetness to stop, and the wetness will only stop when the stinging burn on my butt stops, and that will only stop if they stop lighting up my skin with the palms of their hands.
I'm stuck in this predicament, and already I feel my clit pulling taut. The bottom of my stomach tightening too.
No. No. No.
But still I try awkwardly and impossibly to turn and look behind me.
"You want to see what your ass looks like, pretty girl? How it's streaked red with our handprints," Jasper says, using his sexy voice on me.
I shake my head, but the word ‘yes’ falls from my lips. I'm so far gone, I've started a war with my mind, my body, and my words.
"Spread your legs, Alessia," Layton says. He says my name and immediately takes away the facade I want to hide under—that it's not me doing all this.
I drop my head and slowly part my legs. At this point, maybe that's all I need to do. Maybe keeping them pressed together only increased the pressure on my clit. Maybe I'll relieve the absolute manic need to come.
But then I hear the sound of a phone click. A camera. My heart drums in my chest with such pounding force I'm going to pass out before I....
Garrison comes around to face me. He slides the phone onto the table.
I gasp at the sight before me and a thrill of deviance passes over me.
What. Is. Happening. To. Me.
"Are you going to tell us what those pearls mean to you?" he asks gently.
I shake my head. I can't. I just can't.
Garrison expands the image. I see the wetness clinging to my folds. My thighs are gleaming from the abundance that had already seeped from me.
"Look how wet you are, sweetheart," he says, just as gently, and then as if Layton and Jasper know exactly where Garrison is pointing, they touch me there.
I thought I knew what it was like to go up in flames. I didn't. At their touch, I implode into myself. I'm burning up from the inside and taking down every nerve, every cell with me.
Layton and Jasper alternate between touching my clit and dipping into the shallow entrance of my pussy.
I'm so wet that I slide down on their fingers, as if I want them to fill me up.
But there's only so much I can take, and so much control I can exercise, before my body relents and decides I’m giving into the climax I've tried so viciously to withhold.
Garrison forces me to keep my eyes open on the image of me at my most immodest. His fingers glide over the screen of his phone, and it feels as if he’s touching my pussy in person as well.
“Oh god, please. Please, please, please,” I cry, my movements frenetic as I rub my pussy against Layton’s and Jasper’s hand, so desperate to come that I want to grind against them until I find what I’m chasing.
It’s the spanking. It messed with my chemical balance, particularly the one where my pride comes from.
“You want to come, pretty girl?”
“Yes,” I whisper softly, hoping they didn’t hear me.
But they increase the pressure. Layton holds my clit between his fingers, squeezing just hard enough to make my legs quiver while Jasper slips a finger between my folds and keeps his thumb on my clit, polishing the overly sensitive bud until I come so wildly, so frantically the sounds I make aren't coming from my own lips, surely.
But a blanket of embarrassment falls over me with the last spasm escaping my pussy.
How the hell did I allow myself to come in front of them, after they spanked me?
I need to do better. Dammit.