Owning Wednesday

Annabel Joseph

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Wednesday is released by Vincent, her long-time Master, only to find herself in a new, much more emotionally intense BDSM relationship with Daniel. But is Vincent really out of her life forever? Can Wednesday bear the intimacy of ...
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Wednesday is released by Vincent, her long-time Master, only to find herself in a new, much more emotionally intense BDSM relationship with Daniel. But is Vincent really out of her life forever? Can Wednesday bear the intimacy of her new lover's demands? The three soon find themselves in an uneasy and sometimes downright contentious love triangle.

Wednesday wants to submit to Daniel, but self-protective impulses and bad memories make their budding relationship a constant struggle. In a world of passion, promises, and power exchange, Wednesday and her lovers must come to understand the difference between being “owned” and loved.

  • Note:This book is a substantially re-edited, revised version of a book of the same title previously released elsewhere, and contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, menage (m/f/m), strong BDSM theme and elements.
Wednesday shifted next to her master, trying not to stare at the man across the table. Vincent had introduced him as Daniel Laurent, one of his former art students and now a successful movie-set designer. Wednesday was a little starstruck.

And a lot aroused.

She didn’t know why this friend of Vincent’s affected her so strongly. She was quite content with her handsome, dark-eyed master. Content was not a strong enough word -- she worshipped him. Vincent was in his early fifties, stern and intelligent. Daniel was closer to her age, perhaps thirty, and blond in contrast to Vincent’s dark coloring. His personality was a contrast too, laid-back and open. He smiled a lot. God, that smile. So easy and charming. So easy to get lost in... You have a master, Wednesday. And he’s not blond.

This dinner outing was a birthday present of sorts from Vincent, who rarely took her on dates, much less introduced her to friends -- unless he meant to share her with them. Wednesday knew she would be serving Daniel later, but even so, she wasn’t getting the usual “you’re gonna be my bitch” vibe. Daniel just looked at her like she was a normal woman, and treated her with friendly respect. She supposed, in general, she did look totally normal. Vincent collared and cuffed her often in private but never in public, so there was nothing to make anyone look at her sideways or realize she was kinky. She did have striking coloring -- thick, curly black hair and light blue eyes lined with black lashes that contrasted sharply with her pale skin.

Daniel had light blue eyes too, but his scruffy blond hair seemed much more appropriate to their shade. His gaze caught hers on more than one occasion, and she began to hope that he found her attractive. Her lips were painted, as usual, a deep, rich plum that her master preferred. She knew she had full, pretty lips and a nice smile. Vincent loved her mouth, in more ways than one. What did Daniel think of her mouth? She imagined opening her lips wide and moaning around his cock, and a guilty flush of arousal warmed her cheeks. She tried to put the brakes on her libido, wary of angering her master. She glanced at Vincent, and he frowned back at her. Too late.

What Daniel thought of all this, she had no idea. She watched his body language, trying to glean what he might be like in their scene later. God, he was so handsome. Usually she put up with third partners, whether male or female, because Vincent wanted her to. For the first time, she was excited herself.

Daniel and her master fought over the check -- Daniel won -- and then they set out for Vincent’s house. Daniel said he would drive separately, so Vincent and Wednesday endured a tense drive alone in his car through the city. Wednesday liked Vincent’s house. It was neat and tastefully decorated and bright with light for his painting and sculpting. Vincent’s home was utterly perfect, like him. It was impossible to misbehave in such an austere space.

During the drive, Wednesday waited for Vincent to clue her in on how he felt about the fact that she was lusting after his friend. Unfortunately, he gave her nothing, only the equivocal silence she knew so well. So she sat, silent and anxious, and waited to see how things would go. She hoped he wouldn’t be too hard on her, since she’d tried, at least, to hide her attraction.

Inside, Vincent offered him a drink, which Daniel refused, to her relief. Not that she imagined him as the type to get drunk and sloppy when he played. She just didn’t want to wait for things to get going. Vincent led him to the playroom, which looked like the rest of the house, only the walls were soundproof and there were hooks hidden everywhere and cabinets full of toys. Toys that Wednesday knew, by this point, exceedingly well. Toys that Daniel, having been invited here, was surely familiar with too.

There was no real talk, no negotiating. Vincent told her to undress, and she complied. No sexy striptease -- Vincent wouldn’t like it. She took off her shoes and dress and set them in a neat pile. But as she began to unhook her stockings, Daniel said, “Have her leave them on.”

She looked at Vincent, who nodded shortly. She went to her master and knelt while he buckled on her collar and cuffs. He asked Daniel, “What do you want?”

Daniel looked back at him and then at her. “I’d like to have her alone.”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Vincent with a terse smile. “But she’s perfectly capable of attending to us both.” He made a subtle gesture in Daniel’s direction.

She crawled to Daniel in her stockings and heels and knelt at his feet with her lips parted just slightly. She watched for any directions. Daniel gazed down at her for a long moment, and she wasn’t sure what was going on behind those piercing blue eyes. Then he reached down and tipped her head back.

“Nice,” he said finally. “Suck me. Undress me first.” He undid his pants while she worked on his shoes and socks. He had his shirt off before she could even get to it. He seemed eager to show her his body, and no wonder, because nude, he was absolutely breathtaking. Golden California tan, muscles that looked strong and prominent, but not too prominent. Broad shoulders tapered to a blond-furred chest and cut abs that ended in... Wow. She wanted to caress him, to run her hands all over his perfectly honed body to feel every hard and sinuous part of him, but she didn’t. She only waited for him to roll on a condom and guide his cock into her mouth.

Daniel was a big man, but so was Vincent, so she had no problems accommodating his size. She threw herself into her service with perhaps a bit too much abandoned devotion. She opened wide, licking the underside of his cock then brushing tiny tongue strokes around the swollen head. He wasn’t gentle and found the back of her throat quickly, grasping her shoulders. Rather than alarming her, the rough usage elicited an even deeper submission. She used her lips and tongue to pleasure him, moaning softly, closing her eyes to concentrate on the sensation of being taken so decisively by a man she’d just met. He smelled different, a new musk. He had a different rhythm, a different thrust than Vincent. He had novel contours, and those fingers digging into her shoulders...

She sighed against the satiny hardness of his cock, wanting more. She reached out to touch him, alert to any signals of rejection. Sometimes Vincent pushed her hands away and only let her use her mouth. But Daniel slid a hand down her back with an encouraging groan.

“Oh yes. Touch me. Play with my balls, girl.”

She skimmed her fingertips over his crisp hair and his firm, pendulous sac. She slid her hands up to grip his rod and licked around the base, then down to tease his balls. She could feel his body tighten in response -- feel it in his thighs and the fingers that were twisting in her hair. He pulled her head back and made a low noise. She opened her mouth wide in response, his willing, waiting receptacle. Again, he slid deep, and she fought not to gag. She sucked him in a faster rhythm, using her hands in any way she thought might please him. She stroked his balls and massaged his shaft and was rewarded with a hiss from between his teeth.

“Yes, more. Don’t stop.”

His voice was a demanding, low rumble. He tightened his hands in her hair, and her pussy clenched from the sensation of being controlled, used. God, she was so hot she wanted to hump against his leg. Her whole body hummed at the same compelling pitch as his words. Was it only attraction that had her so excited? She made a fist and pressed it against her thigh. She wanted to touch herself, rub herself into oblivion, but she didn’t dare.

This is not about you.

She made a soft sound, a small moan of capitulation, and went back to working his cock, kissing, sucking, licking. She sensed him nearing his climax. She felt flushed and frantic to bring him to that peak of completion. This first encounter was like a fire burning too hot and bright, and it imprinted everything about him on her like sharp little burns from ashes: the fresh-spicy smell of him, the tug of his fingers in her hair, the width of his cock between her lips.

He came with a groan and a sweet tremor that she felt beneath her fingertips. After a moment she released his cock with a long, wanton slide of tongue over the latex. She furtively swiped a hand over her lips and chin. She’d drooled on him like a messy whore.

What now? Her brain was fuck-fuzzy. At a snap of Vincent’s fingers, she was scurrying over to him, rolling on his condom, and throwing herself into orally serving him.

But she was ashamed that even as she knelt before Vincent, thoughts of Daniel crept into her mind. She tried to push them away and center on serving her master. She licked and sucked him, using her tongue to tease his balls in the same way she’d pleasured Daniel. She could feel his rigid stance and tried even harder to please him, taking him deep in her throat for long minutes while he fucked her without tenderness. She gagged, and her eyes watered. It felt angry and uncomfortable, but she groveled before him anyway, giving herself up for his use. It felt like penance. Atonement.

She wondered if Daniel was watching her and what he was thinking. Focus. Focus on your master, stupid girl. How many times had Vincent beaten that rule into her in the early days of her training? Vincent twisted his fingers in her hair, and he made some sound, a short comment to Daniel. Then she felt warm thighs against the backs of her thighs and Daniel’s hands around her waist.

She didn’t stop what she was doing. She still serviced her master, but she felt strangely split, the greater part of her attention on the new man behind her. She’d been fucked like this many times, and given no thought to the third partner’s existence beyond a slave’s attention to duty. Now her body burned with a heightened arousal. Daniel moved his hands from her waist to the back of her ass, then down to nudge her thighs wider. His fingers were firm against her skin, and the matter-of-fact way he manipulated her made her pussy ache to be filled. Filled by him. Please...

He tightened his hands, and that hard, beautiful cock she’d been dreaming of pushed inside, spreading her, forcing her open with an exquisite solidity. She arched to take all of him. He pressed his hips against her ass as he seated himself to the hilt and stayed there, as if he wanted to be sure she focused on his total possession of her. She made a wild sound around the barrier of Vincent’s cock, and Daniel responded in kind.

He began to move, fucking her fast and deep. His balls banged against her clit, a rhythmic tease of sensation. She wiggled her hips, trying to feel more of the delicious contact. Her pelvis ached, and she felt an alarming rush of heat to her thighs and the tips of her nipples. The way he fucked her -- so rough, yet so controlled. She was grounded by his steady grip on her hips, and still she had the feeling she might lose herself completely at any moment.

She had to fight the impulse to turn away from Vincent and reach behind her to scratch those thighs, to draw him closer. She wanted to collapse on the floor and grind back against him, doing whatever she had to do to allay the need in her clit. Daniel braced her upright, preventing such an ignominious breach of conduct with one arm tight around her waist. Careful, careful. Vincent owned her orgasms, and Wednesday was not permitted to come without permission. She tried to focus, tried not to drift away on her own pleasure and forget her place.

Wednesday refocused her efforts on worshipping her master’s cock. She took him deep, making the small, frantic lust noises she knew aroused him. His cock jerked in her mouth, an acknowledgment of her efforts. Just as she regained her concentration, Daniel reached around to pinch and toy with her nipples. He swirled a deft fingertip around each peak, a soft, excruciating taunt, then pinched and tugged until she whimpered. She pushed back against his cock, her animal sounds muffled by Vincent’s thrusting. The hot teasing and torment goaded her to a frightening apex.

She put her hands on Vincent’s thighs to center herself, one last grasp at regaining her quickly ebbing control. She knew Vincent wouldn’t grant her permission to come, not this early in the scene, and she would not disgrace him by begging. Instead, she gave herself up to the feeling of being used, being conquered by both men.

She jerked her hips each time Daniel thrust in her, and her moaning became a steady vibration against her master’s cock in her mouth and throat. Daniel moved closer behind her. He trailed his fingers down her front to rest at the top of her cleft for just a moment before slipping lower, straight to her throbbing clit. Oh my God. He slid his fingers over it with devastating dexterity as he continued to ram her with his cock.

The pleasure was unbearable, piercing and electric. With a backward jerk of her hips and a soft gasp against Vincent’s cock, she toppled over the precipice and climaxed despite all her efforts at control. Orgasmic shocks squeezed her pelvis and shot up to her throbbing nipples. She rode it out in secret, shamed silence, never stopping her attentions to Vincent. Daniel braced her more tightly as she nearly collapsed forward. Then he pulled away.

Wednesday threw herself into pleasuring Vincent, guilty recriminations pounding in her head. You came. You came. The worst thing was, she hadn’t even been thinking of serving Vincent at the time. She’d only been thinking of Daniel and the way he was stroking her clit and pounding her pussy. She’d been preoccupied, reeling from his hands and their magic touch. After Vincent was done with her mouth, Wednesday stayed on her hands and knees with her head down, not even able to look at her master’s face.

“Finish,” he said gruffly.

Wednesday peeled off Vincent’s condom and crawled over to dispose of it in the trash.

“Very nice,” Daniel said, sounding bemused. “Full service. By the way, your submissive came while I was fucking her.”

Wednesday grimaced as she returned to the two men, but Vincent looked unsurprised. “Sometimes she’s a real slut that way. I’ll punish her. Or you may, if you wish.”

Wednesday could tell just by Vincent’s tone that he was furious. So be it. What was done was done. Daniel had made her come, and now he’d be the one to punish her for it. She was dying to know the strength of his hand. Vincent rattled off the implements at his disposal, asking Daniel which he wanted to use.

“I want to spank her over my lap,” Daniel said, “if you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind. Why don’t you plug her while you’re at it, and we can both take a turn in her ass when you’re finished?”

“Sure. That sounds good. Come, Wednesday.” Daniel patted his lap. Even in her disgrace it thrilled her to hear her name on his lips. The authoritative, quiet way he said it. She crawled over, and he pulled her across his thighs. He took a moment to run his hand over her ass. He traced down the straps of her garter belt to where they met the lacy tops of her stockings. She was perfectly in position, but he manhandled her anyway, arranging her hips closer to his and then taking her arm firmly.

“I could restrain her with the cuffs if you like,” Vincent said.

“No, thanks.” Daniel laughed, pinching just at the underside of her ass cheek. “I think I can handle this one.” Her tender skin throbbed where he’d pinched her, and he was so strong, so solid. It was so much more apparent now that she was held over his lap. She looked up to see Vincent handing him a toy for her ass. God, he’d chosen a huge one. Daniel was careful, but still she moaned in soft complaint as he drove it home. “Hush,” he said. “You know it doesn’t hurt that much.”

Then he began to spank her, even giving her a short warm-up first. God, this man was wonderful, she thought, but she quickly realized why the warm-up was necessary with him. He progressed from light smacks to spanking like a pile driver -- hard and direct, relentless and fast. The pain took her breath away.

There was no time to rest and collect herself between blows. The stinging, punishing blows kept falling without respite, without any downtime. It was so difficult to process the pain that she couldn’t even daydream anymore about how much he turned her on. It was probably for the best, since she wasn’t meant to enjoy this. Punishment, not play. She grasped Daniel’s leg, trying to work through the building pain, then let go, making a fist. She didn’t dare reach back and try to shield herself, but at last she had to cry out and beg for mercy.

“Please...please, Sir!”

“Be a good girl, Wednesday,” he said in a patient voice. “I’ll stop when you’ve had enough.”

Copyright © Annabel Joseph


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