“But, Orchid?” Cynthia asked.
“It’s strange, but I also feel excited at the thought of the pretty ones… the cheerleaders, prom queens and others… being pulled off their thrones.
I don’t know if I’ll be nearly as effective at working with them, but I certainly appreciate the results.”
It was the strangest conversation Frances had ever been involved in, and yet it was also the most comfortable.
She realized she could tell Cynthia anything, or ask her any question and not be laughed at.
Frances looked up to see the brown eyes peaking through the slightly opened kitchen door again.
“Come in.
You might as well get a good eyeful,” she said defensively.
The door opened and an older woman shuffled in a few steps.
Ethel was certain she would be sent back to her quarters for upsetting the guest.
“I’m sorry, mum,” she said in a thick accent.
“It’s just that, well, I’ve never seen a real fae before.
I thought they lived in the woods and slept under lily pads, I did.
It’s what I’ve always heard.”
Her sad eyes looked over to Cynthia.
“I’ll finish the dishes, Mistress Cynthia and stay in my quarters.
I tried to keep from peekin’ at her, but the fae is like an angel.”
“This roast is delicious, so I hope you’re not leaving,” Frances replied.
“It would be most inconvenient timing to try to arrange another cook for the wedding dinner,” Cynthia agreed.
“It’s all right, Ethel.
We’re all drawn to Frances.”
“Oh, thank you Mistress.
I’m sorry for staring, mum.”
The woman was still wide-eyed.
Frances said, “Oh, for goodness sakes.
Come here.”
The woman edged near her, still not sure if she was real and not some vision.
Frances held out her hand.
“Go ahead… touch me.”
Ethel raised one hand and a wrinkled, gnarled finger stroked down the pale skin.
“You’re real as I am,” she whispered in awe.
Frances laughed.
“What’s for desert?”
When Ethel returned to the kitchen, still slipping peeks through the door, Frances explained, “Some superstitious old people think I’m a ghost.
Seriously.
They ask me to contact dead husbands and stuff.”
The family laughed, and Cynthia said, “Well, I didn’t have
those
challenges growing up.”
Two days later, Frances became ‘Calla Frances Emily McCray Venetia’, though she secretly loved being ‘Mrs. Liam Venetia’.
Her whole life had changed on a whim of going to a concert.
She was sitting on the edge of a hard wood table, watching Cynthia train Orchid.
Marigold was kneeling beside her, quivering every time she watched stepmother move and afraid that she would be included in the exercise.
Alexander was winding thin rope around Orchid’s breasts… tightly, if the purpling color was any indication.
Cynthia kept pulling the orbs by their nipples with her pinching nails, and insisting that Orchid look into her eyes and keep silent.
The sexual heat in the room was palpable, and Alexander became excited by both the torture of the flower, and Cynthia’s increasing arousal at her Orchid’s torment.
Frances was excited for another reason, and her pale pussy was dripping and constricting at the thought of being the one with the rough, tight ropes causing agony to her breasts.
Alexander smiled and nodded to Cynthia to look over at Calla… the name they called Frances by, now.
The angel’s eyes were closed with her light lashes fanning her lids, her head was slightly back with a rosy glow on her face, her bottom lip quivering and her breath breezing through half-opened lips, while her hands cupped her breasts through the sky blue silk gown and squeezed.
Cynthia turned to her husband, and in unspoken agreement they confirmed to each other were not sure which scene was more erotic… Orchid, or Calla.
Frances had not joined Liam when he was training, though it was obvious the thought of him working with another woman did not bother her.
Like Cynthia, she was positive she held Liam’s heart… and Kyle’s.
There was the rub.
Kyle’s good nature was becoming an increasingly absent scene around the estate.
Calla’s thoughts blurred while she squeezed her breasts, and instead of envisioning Cynthia and Alexander, she saw the twins.
Her eyes snapped open and she dropped her hands.
“I know what to do,” she murmured.
She hopped off the table.
“Come on, Marigold.”
“Yes, Mistress Calla.”
Marigold was relieved to be leaving the cold chamber.
Visiting the dungeon garden always made her nervous.
Cynthia yanked Orchid’s nipples again, and the girl gasped.
Cynthia looked up at Alexander and said, “I told you she’d figure it out.”
“Kyle will be passing on a wife of his own,” Alexander replied.
He secured the ropes around Orchid’s breasts, and looked into the amber eyes pleading with him.
Her hands were hooked together behind her, but with the clit ring secured to the floor she could not move.
“Kyle will find someone, if that is what fate has in store for him.
The twins are so close, even Liam will understand that it might have to be this way.
I think Calla senses that the two of them together make a rounded picture of an extraordinary man,” Cynthia replied.
It made perfect sense to her that the twins would both love the same woman.
“Go ahead,” Alexander ordered the girl.
Orchid’s mind was in turmoil.
She barely realized that white Fanny had been in the room again, watching her suffer.
How?
How could this horribly sadistic family choose that freak over me?
Her breasts were throbbing with constricted blood flow, and the crazy idea that they would fall off was almost a relief.
At least they would be something they could not torture any more.
Stepmother had warned her that she would be punished, but she had no idea it would be so severe.
Alexander had come down by himself last night… after Orchid’s refusal.
That was the worst.
When she had displeased stepmother so badly that the Master came into the chamber alone, Orchid would become almost physically ill with panic and lust.
Last night, he had arched her over the wheel and pushed his cock so far down her throat, she prayed to pass out.
His hands spread her pussy and he dripped black wax… the hottest wax… directly onto her clit until her whole slit and lips were covered… even her bottom hole.
This was less than a day after he had caned her pussy for another infraction, and she was already so sore she screamed.
He did not stop with the wax until he came down her throat.
He left her in her cage with the instructions to remove all the wax before they returned.
God, it had hurt.
Peeling it from her clit ring, and ripping it off her sore lips, she concentrated on the residual salty taste and smell of Alexander.
She screamed when her fingers lifted it off the sensitive skin of her anus.
Panicked, she kept waking up throughout the night and stroking herself to make sure it was all off.
She had given up her old dreams of gracing the covers of magazines and the envious looks of her friends back home when she visited to flaunt her success.
She was a flower in the dungeon garden.
She was stepmother’s most exotic Orchid.
“Please, stepmother, may this slave attend you?” Orchid quivered.
“Can you?” Cynthia asked coldly.
This was the girl’s third attempt.
“Please, stepmother,” Orchid begged.
She could not imagine what Alexander would do if she failed again.
Cynthia smiled and curled a shock of damp hair behind Orchid’s ear.
“One more thing for encouragement.”
She took the nipple clamps out of her pocket and Orchid gave a small sob.
Cynthia had a slight obsession with the flower’s lengthy, thick nubs.
Instead of unresponsive protuberances because of their size, they were uncharacteristically sensitive, and they remained a constant source of pleasure for her to torment.
“Aaah… oooh…,” Orchid wailed.
Her nipples were exploding in pain from the ropes and clamps.
“Hush, Orchid.
You won’t be able to concentrate with all that noise,” Alexander reprimanded.
The clit chain was detached and Orchid slowly sank to her knees.
Cynthia lifted her gown and Alexander walked behind her, unzipping his pants.
“May I?” he whispered into her ear.
Cynthia felt his marvelous cock slide inside of her pussy, and with one arm wrapped around his wife’s waist the fingers of the other spread her slit open.
He could not wait to feel her quivering around his cock when she climaxed.
Orchid’s tongue reached out, and she gave a quick swipe and rocked back again.
Her pleading eyes met an aroused, angry green gaze… but it was nothing compared to the demand in Alexander’s glare.
Orchid cried and leaned forward, forcing more pressure on her bound, agonized breasts as she licked stepmother’s pussy.
Her tongue brushed along Alexander’s cock where it buried deep into her channel, and she worked her way back to stepmother’s clit.
At least, with Alexander inside of her, Orchid did not have to taste all of her musky cream.
An insane notion to bite down on the nub quickly vacated her thoughts.
Her mind could not comprehend the agony Alexander would put her through for such a transgression.
It seemed like hours, though she knew it was not, before she was rewarded with stepmother’s thighs quivering.
Alexander’s cock began thrusting inside of her, and Orchid fought to keep up with their movement.
Finally, she heard them both gasp, and Cynthia’s nails dug into Orchid’s hair to pull her close.
The shuddering bodies stopped rocking, and Orchid leaned back as soon as Cynthia released her head.
Orchid could see Alexander’s cock withering and he began to slip free.
It was over.
She had done it and would not be punished again.
“Clean me,” Cynthia demanded.
Orchid looked up in disbelief, and then back at her pussy.
Alexander fell free and the mixture of their juices began to drip in stringy ropes.
“If a single drop hits the floor, you will be punished,” Alexander threatened.
“Oh god,” Orchid moaned, but she quickly wrapped her tongue around a falling thread.
The entire time her tongue delved into stepmother’s hole, she cried.
At last, it was done, and Alexander helped her to stand.
Her clit ring was reattached and Alexander began unwinding the ropes.
Her breasts burned as the blood re-circulated into them.
Alexander, standing behind her, held her arms to keep her still.
Cynthia removed both nipple clamps at once, and it was a few seconds before Belladonna heard the familiar wail from the chamber down the hall.
Chapter VIII
Calla lay with her head on Liam’s chest, letting the quivering of her orgasm subside.
She had noticed him becoming slowly more distracted and subdued lately.
Not that he was any less attentive to her when they were in the middle of whatever arousing torment he suggested, for even now she was aware of the slippery feeling of his hot cum dripping from between her thighs.
Her concern was that he had become a little quieter, in sync with Kyle’s depression.
“Liam, would you trust me on something?”
“Of course, Calla.”
Liam lifted her hand and affectionately stroked her diamond studded cuff while he kissed her palm.
Her restraints had extra padding, though she had argued against it, and she could remove them all easily… though she rarely did.
The original surprised looks from the family when they saw her wearing them, had subsided.
They had been a wedding gift from Sloan, and Calla had caught him smiling several times when he saw them proudly displayed on her.
“Kyle isn’t happy,” she whispered.
Liam froze.
“He’s okay,” he whispered in return.
“No, Liam, he’s not, and I think you know why.”
“I… I can’t go there, Calla.”
She leaned over him, and her ghost-white hair curtained them.
“Why not, Liam?
The two of you have trained women together before.”
“That’s different, Calla.
You’re my wife.”
“Of course I am, Liam.
I will always be your wife… and I feel you suffering, because there is a part of you that is shared with Kyle.
At least you have me to console you.
Kyle has no one… not even you anymore.”
Calla sighed.
“You feel his loneliness, Liam.
It’s tearing at you, and eventually you’re going to come to blame me for it.”
“I won’t,” he denied quickly.
To himself, he had already questioned the despair he was feeling, and how guilty he felt when he saw how hard it was for Kyle to summon up arousal, even when they were working with Snapdragon.
“I asked you if you trusted me, Liam, and you said you do.
I want you to try something.
If it doesn’t work, if any of us don’t like it, we won’t try again.
Please, Liam.
One time.”
Liam was so silent, Calla was afraid she had disgusted him with the suggestion.
“What is it?” he whispered.
She told him of the scene with Orchid, and Liam said that Kyle had worked with their father and the ropes.
Surprisingly, it was Liam who did not have the patience for the time involved with the torture.
His hands began squeezing her breasts gently, as he pictured them bound… with him kneeling in front of her… pinching her bruising nipples… god, Kyle would go crazy.
“Okay,” he whispered.
He bounded up and tossed her onto her belly, pulling her bottom against him.
“Shit, I’m so hot I might not make it all the way in,” he groaned.
Calla smiled into the pillow while he slid into her bottom.
Calla told Cynthia, who naturally explained it to Alexander.
The logical deduction would not be a surprise to anyone… except, maybe, Kyle.
He was becoming so surly and distracted, Cynthia suspected that Daryl and Sloan would be relieved it was finally done.
Cynthia secretly enjoyed that it was the other ‘woman’ of the household that would be manipulating the situation.
It was the way Calla announced it that was such a pleasurable surprise, and Cynthia adored her sense of humor and timing.
They were eating desert, and Calla looked over to Kyle’s sad face.
“Kyle, could you join Liam and me this evening?
I want to try something new, and it takes another person.”
Liam paled and stared at his plate, Daryl’s spoon slipped from his hand and splattered pudding on the floor, and Sloan… always so calm and collected… choked on the chocolate until Daryl pounded him on the back.
“Okay, not so subtle, huh?” Calla grinned.
Everyone stared at her, and although her cheeks colored to the damning undeniable blush, she continued.
“Liam says you know how to use ropes, and your father was training Orchid in a way I found most interesting.
Alexander, does Kyle know how to do this?”
Alexander stalled the movement of his spoon towards his mouth.
He had not expected to be called into the conspiracy.
“Yes, Calla.”
He turned to Kyle who was speechless and staring at his desert.
Now that the unobtainable prize was within reach, he was terrified.
Alexander prompted, “Remember how I showed you with Aster?
That’s what Calla seemed to enjoy.”
Alexander remembered the angel’s passionate response, and he looked down at his lap when Cynthia’s hand began to rub his erection.
“She seemed to enjoy it quite a bit,” he added.
Kyle looked over at his twin.
“But, she’s not a flower, Liam.
She’s your wife.”
Liam was forced into the uncomfortable situation of asking his twin to help torture his wife.
He tried to envision how his father seamlessly replied to some of their mother’s unusual requests.
“Yes, she is,” Liam agreed.
“And my wife has asked for me to elicit your help.
Naturally, I will do anything within my power to make my angel happy.”
“Good, then it’s settled,” Calla announced, before anyone could change their mind.
“Around nine would be fine, Kyle.
Oh, and please bring the ropes.”
Daryl and Sloan silently watched the exchange for a moment, and then Sloan leaned over and whispered, “I get Belladonna.”
“Fine by me,” Daryl assured him.
“Snapdragon can use the workout I’ll give her.”
Calla retired to their room to bathe, while Liam fended off the questions from Daryl and Sloan in the lounge with his mother’s help, and Alexander led Kyle to the dungeons for some last minute reminders and to get him the ropes he would need.
“Father, this could be a big mistake.
Liam might end up hating me… and Calla, she’s so delicate,” Kyle said nervously.
Alexander stopped in the dimly lit hall and put his hands on his youngest son’s shoulders.
“This was Calla’s idea, Kyle… though, I’m not sure she realizes she has feelings for you.
What she does see, is pain in both Liam and your faces… a pain she can remove.
As slight as she is, as delicate her appearance, Calla is a strong woman.
I suspect that she is almost as strong as your mother.
You are a part of Liam, and she knows this.
I’m not sure, over time, that Liam could satisfy her by himself.”
“Do you know how crazy this sounds?” Kyle asked.
“Crazier than your mother’s obsession that keeps us so happy?
Hell, crazier than any of us, for that matter?
I’m sure you have noticed that we’re not quite like most families, Kyle.
Even within our society, the Venetia’s and their trained Blossoms stand apart.
And yet, we share so much more passion than anyone else we know.”
Alexander changed tactics.
“Haven’t you dreamed of what it would be like to trade places with your brother?
To feel that snow white skin and caress her?
It’s what she wants, Kyle.
It’s what Liam and you need.”
* * * * *
Calla was wearing a white satin robe and she looked like a snow princess.
She was unusually calm, given the circumstances, but Liam was nervous enough for both of them.
He was pacing the room, and he would stop, take her hands and look into her pale eyes, open his mouth to speak, close it again, and return to pacing.
“I swear, if Kyle doesn’t show up soon, I’ll go find him before you wear through the floor and we land in the lounge,” Calla laughed.
There was a light knock on the door.
Liam froze, and Calla walked over to answer it.
She looked at the ropes in Kyle’s trembling white knuckled fists.
“Good.
Come on in, Kyle.
I think you boys need a drink before we get started.”
She returned to the nervous twins with the small glasses of whiskey she had poured and that Liam had not noticed had been waiting on the dresser.
“Liam…”
“Quiet, Kyle.
I’m barely hanging on myself.
She asked me to trust her, and I said that I would,” Liam replied, and they each took a small sip and winced at the burn in unison.
Once more, Calla noticed how they were unconsciously alike and a part of each other.
She took a deep breath, untied her sash, and tossed her robe onto the bench at the foot of the bed.
There was a time, not so long ago, that the entire proposal would have been a farfetched, terrifying prospect.
Now, Calla barely blushed while she watched Kyle’s eyes for his reaction.
She stood iridescently pale in her soft leather, diamond studded collar and cuffs, and instead of the telltale spread of pink embarrassment, she felt a commanding sense of control.
It was a totally unexpected, pleasurable feeling for her.
“Shit,” both men gasped… and they downed their shots in one gulp.
Thirty minutes later, Calla complained, “Tighter, Kyle.
Liam, tell him I don’t break.
Please… I know Alexander wound them tighter.
I could see it in Orchid’s eyes.”
“Kyle, show me the first wrap,” Liam suggested.
Kyle looped the binding close to her creamy chest wall, loosely securing the tail of the rope.
Liam leaned forward and kissed Calla’s cheek.
“Safe word?”
He had insisted on this so he would know when she really was hurt, rather than enjoying the sensation.
When they had first begun their life of erotic torture, Liam had a habit of immediately ending any questionable act as soon as she would gasp or moan, and Calla would glare at him in disappointment.
“Stop or I’ll rip your dick off?” she answered playfully.
Kyle paled.
“Just kidding, Kyle.
Cinderella,” she replied.
“Now,
you’re
kidding,” Kyle said.
“Mother would be so pissed…”
“Mother would be pleased,” Calla said.
“And mother knows.
I told her in case she heard me scream it.
She thought it was sweet that her nickname makes me feel safe.
Now, get busy or we’ll be working at this over breakfast.”
Liam grinned over to Kyle.
After the initial shock and twinge of jealousy that someone else was gazing at… touching… his angel, everything seemed to calm down.
Kyle was a few weeks back on understanding that Calla only appeared to be fragile, but she was sure he would get confident within time.
She felt the rope tighten and her breast protruded.
Liam winced, “Sorry.”
“Tighter, Liam,” she replied, gritting her teeth.
“No, seriously, Calla.
Try it like this, one time.
You’re going to swell, and everything tightens more,” Kyle informed her.
“Okay, thanks Kyle,” Calla answered.
They finished with Calla writhing in pain, while Liam fingered her to climax and Kyle spanked her.
She reluctantly allowed them to remove the ropes, and a few seconds after the clamps were removed, she shrieked, “Cinderella… oh… oh, god… Cinderella.”
“You have to say it while we’re tying you… it does no good, afterwards,” Liam told her, slightly distressed over his angel’s agony.
Kyle walked up behind her, wrapped his hands around her bruised flesh and began a slow massage, coaxing the blood to fill her breasts in a steady pace.
“Relax, just lean back.”
His eyes continued to focus on the gradual bluish purple evidence that remained from the rope.
Liam watched her eyes close while Kyle gently worked her back to calmness.
“Better?” Kyle asked softly.
“Thank you.
I thought it was the rope part,” Calla admitted.
“It can be,” Kyle assured her.
“But, sometimes it’s the release that gives the most agony.”
The three of them lay on the bed and talked quietly for several hours.
It began with the brothers attempting to balance and ground the thought of sharing Calla, but she kept changing the subject to other acts she wanted to experience with them, and eventually Liam, and then Kyle, began suggesting erotic games they could try.
Kyle still felt off center until Calla yawned, leaned over, and kissed him goodnight.
She kissed Liam, and curled onto his chest to sleep.
In the morning, her head was still on Liam’s chest, and Kyle was spooned behind her with an arm around her waist.
No mention was made at breakfast, other than occasional curious glances as the weighted depression at the table was obviously lifted with Kyle’s quiet smile.