Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 119
Helen closed the short distance between them and stroked Bobbi’s face, her thumb gliding over a delicate cheekbone. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Bobbi’s, who received them with reverence, leaning into her mistress. The tenderness was a stark contrast to the hatred she’d shown Natalie and me just minutes earlier. Then came a sound—a soft, whimpering sigh so faint I almost missed it.
“Why does it seem a little muted in here?” Natalie asked.
“This entire room is completely soundproofed,” I said. I leaned in a little close so I could whisper, “We could make Bobbi scream at the top of her lungs for ten minutes straight and you wouldn’t hear anything, even if you were standing in the hallway with your ear pressed to the wall.”
I let my fingers graze up and down her silky skin just above her knee, and she lowered her eyes to watch my touch for a few moments before meeting my gaze. “You’ve actually tested it out?” she asked.
“Some,” I said. “Helen, though… she’s had Bobbi screaming in here for hours and no one’s reported hearing anything.”
More sounds drifted from Helen and Bobbi, and Natalie chanced a glance at them, but I kept my eyes on her. Natalie was the point of this, and I’d seen Helen’s work enough to know that I wouldn’t be missing out on too much. Natalie was all that mattered right now.
I could see the interest in her eyes as she watched the pair continue to kiss, and I couldn’t decide what had her more intrigued. Was it seeing someone she spent a year hating, finally getting her comeuppance… or was there more to it than that?
Was Natalie attracted to the control that Helen wielded? Was she at any point imagining herself in the blonde’s place? An image flashed in my mind of not only Helen, but also Natalie taking control of Bobbi… of them sharing the stubborn bitch between them. I could see the three of us plugging all her holes and making her airtight… using her up until she was nearly comatose with pleasure and pain.
Or was she more drawn to Bobbi’s loss of agency? Another image—this one of Natalie kneeling next to Bobbi. I could see both of them blowing me, glaring at each other as they were forced to a mutual end. My cum covered their faces in my vision, and a hand on the back of each of their heads, forcing them to share my spend as they kissed.
Or maybe she was meant to be more of a partner, enjoying a lazy morning with me—her with Bobbi’s face forced between her legs while I had my cock buried in Helen’s throat.
All three scenarios drove me crazy with lust, and I simply couldn’t make up my damn mind which scenario I preferred. All that I knew for certain was that I wanted this woman… badly.
Helen broke off the kiss, her teeth clamped on Bobbi’s lower lip as she pulled away, eliciting a wordless protest from the submissive, who could do little else to resist.
Bobbi’s bottom lip finally popped free as Helen loosened her grip. Her mistress reached behind her, untied the tie of Bobbi’s swimsuit, and unceremoniously pulled it off, baring Bobbi completely and showing her tits to Natalie for the first time.
Natalie gasped.
“Is this turning you on?” I asked.
“Yes,” Natalie said, so distracted by what she was watching that I wasn’t even sure if she fully realized what she was saying.
Bobbi stared at her mistress uncertainly as Helen took half a step back and admired the naked young woman before her.
Helen took hold of the rope attached to Bobbi’s cuffs and let it glide loosely through her fingers as she circled to the far end of the horse. There, she clipped the rope into place, then seized the length dangling from the ceiling and yanked the slack free. Three sharp pulls, and Bobbi was forced flat to her stomach, stretched along the top of the bench, arms extended forward, her hands hovering about a foot above the far end. With practiced ease, Helen secured the rope, locking the submissive into position.
Seated at a right angle to where Bobbi lay, Natalie and I were treated to a striking side view of her stretched across the horse. Her frame was slender—ribs casting faint shadows beneath taut skin, the gentle ripple of lean muscle evident beneath the surface. She wasn’t built for strength, not really. Tara had followed precise instructions: to keep her willowy and feminine. No bulk. Just a strong core, careful conditioning, and a body fat percentage calibrated to keep her delicate.
She wasn’t tall, but there was something elfin about her build—lithe and delicate, like something from a high fantasy. Her hips flared, framing an ass that was rounder, fuller, and just a touch more than Erin’s. Her modest breasts straddled the horse, one pressed gently to the padded surface, its porcelain skin stark against the black leather.
Bobbi’s cheek rested on her outstretched arms so that she was looking directly at Natalie and me. She started to turn away, but Helen anticipated it. The older woman latched onto her hair and forced her head back down in mid-attempt, making sure that we could see her face. Helen tightened the grip on her charge’s hair, causing her to wince as she peered up at her.
Helen bent over the submissive until her lips were right next to Bobbi’s ear, and she whispered something and received a faint nod followed by, “Yes, Mistress.” Helen laid a simple kiss on the side of the girl’s head and then went to choose the tool she would use to administer Bobbi’s punishment.
My little pet simply stared in our direction, her eyes half lidded. Light caught the glisten at the corner of her eye—tears starting to form.
Natalie must have noticed it too. She looked at me, unbelieving what she was seeing from her former co-worker. “Is she going to be okay?”
She hadn’t noticed the other thing that Bobbi was doing—it was so subtle that it didn’t surprise me that she’d missed it. Bobbi’s ass kept clenching, making slow, micro thrusts downward in an attempt to grind her pelvis against the leather she was bound to. The way her ankles were strapped to the bottom of the horse panels, she had to be making contact with her clit.
“She’s fine,” I said, finally tearing my eyes from Bobbi. “She’s dry humping the bench. You see?”
Natalie took a moment to watch as I continued, “The only thing Bobbi really hates is the fact that you’re sitting here, watching her get her ass beat. Hurting her pride is one of the worst things you can do to her, which is strange, considering some of the horrible things we’ve put on her collar at this point.”
Helen returned to the bench with a paddle in hand. It was made of sleek, dark walnut with my initials etched into the center. A few drilled holes made it more aerodynamic—less drag, more sting. In anyone else’s grip, I might have offered a warning. In Helen’s, I didn’t have to.
“Don’t look away from them, love.” Helen laid the paddle gently against Bobbi’s rear. “If you do, I’ll simply add another stroke to the ledger.”
She glanced at me, her eyes dancing with azure flame.
Without waiting for a response, she raised the paddle and brought it down onto bare, pale flesh.
Despite the noise-absorbing panels, Bobbi’s cry rang throughout the room. Her eyes clenched shut, teeth peeled back in a rictus of pain.
Beside me, Natalie flinched.
Helen lifted the paddle off Bobbi, revealing the faint lines of my initials blooming on her left buttock.
“That’s one,” she said—her tone almost motherly, as if she were handing out cookies to her favorite child.
She laid a gentle hand on the small of Bobbi’s back, lifted the paddle over her head, and brought it down again.
A second crack resounded, and Natalie flinched harder this time.
Bobbi jumped in her restraints, her scream trailing off into a sob. Fresh tears pooled at the side of her nose and slid down the bridge. Her wide eyes flicked back and forth between Natalie and me.
I glanced at Natalie. She was transfixed, staring at the girl who had once been her bully. She’d caught glimpses of Bobbi vulnerable in my office—on her knees, rough-edged and tousled—but nothing like this.
I gave her leg a light squeeze. “What are you feeling?”
She finally tore her eyes away to look at me. She licked her lips nervously. “I don’t know.”
“Have you ever done anything like this before?”
Natalie gave a small shake of her head.
“Does this bother you?” I glanced at Bobbi and Helen. “Or does it turn you on?”
She didn’t answer. Her gaze drifted back to the other two women. Bobbi was still sobbing quietly, and Helen had leaned down to kiss the reddened skin bearing my initials.
“Number two,” Helen purred. “Brace yourself. This next one might sting a little,” she said, locking eyes with Natalie, making it hard for me to be sure who she was talking to.
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