Chapter 6: Sharing Is Caring
The stale, antiseptic silence of the Scott residence felt heavier than usual without the kids’ chaotic energy. Afternoon sun slanted through the massive living room windows, illuminating dust motes dancing over the cold, pale hardwood. Gail perched on the edge of the pristine white sofa, phone pressed to her ear, her bare foot tapping a nervous rhythm. She'd recounted everything – the bar, the strangers, Josh finding her, the brutal taking in her apartment – her voice a hushed, trembling stream.
"…and then he just left, Sarah. Like I was fucking trash dumped on the curb." Gail twisted a strand of blonde hair around her finger, her knuckles white. The phantom ache deep in her ass flared, a visceral reminder.
Sarah’s voice crackled through the speaker, sharp with excitement. "Holy shit, Gail. But… he fucked you? After all that? Claimed you?" There was no judgment, only a breathless, almost envious hunger.
"Yeah," Gail whispered, a flush creeping up her neck, remembering the searing pain and the terrifying, undeniable thrill of his possession. "Hard. Everywhere. Especially… after."
"Fuck. Me." Sarah breathed. "He’s into it. He’s got that whole… dominant vibe. You knew it." A pause, then the question tumbled out, eager and blunt. "Can I…? Like, next time? When he does you again? Please, Gail? I gotta see this. I wanna… be part of it."
Gail hesitated, her gaze drifting towards the hallway leading to the master suite. The image of the locked cabinet behind the false panel in Karen Scott’s walk-in closet flashed in her mind – leather, steel, things she’d glimpsed while fetching a misplaced sweater. A dangerous excitement coiled in her stomach, pushing aside the lingering shame. Karen was away all weekend. Josh was locked in his office, oblivious. "Okay," she breathed, the word thick with anticipation. "Okay, Sarah. But you gotta dress the part. Extra slutty. Like… fishnets, tiny skirt, corset. The works. And be quiet."
Click. The sleek front door closed with a barely audible sigh as Gail pulled it open just enough. Sarah slipped in like smoke, her eyes wide with exhilaration. She looked deliberately cheap: a microscopic black pleather skirt riding high on her thighs, ripped fishnets with strategic gaps over her knees and thighs, and a tight, cheap red satin corset pushing her ample cleavage into obscene pillows. Her dark hair was teased, her lips painted crimson.
"Jesus, you weren't kidding," Gail murmured, eyeing her friend's near-nakedness with a mix of appraisal and solidarity. "Follow me. Not a sound."
They moved like thieves through the vast, silent house, their footsteps swallowed by the plush rugs in the hallway. Gail’s heart hammered against her ribs. Past Josh’s closed office door – she could hear the faint murmur of a conference call – and into the sanctuary of the master bedroom. The air smelled faintly of Karen’s expensive perfume and lemon polish. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the encroaching woods, the light turning golden.
Gail went straight to the walk-in closet, larger than her entire apartment bathroom. She felt along the smooth back panel, found the hidden latch. With a soft click, a section swung open, revealing the treasure trove Gail had only glimpsed. Sarah gasped audibly.
It wasn't just toys; it was an arsenal. Gleaming chrome paddles, floggers with falls of soft suede and cruel leather, intricate rope coils, blindfolds, gags, several harnesses, and a staggering array of plugs, dildos, and vibrators in intimidating sizes and shapes. The faint scent of leather and silicone filled the air.
"Oh my fucking god," Sarah breathed, reaching out reverently to touch a black leather harness with dangling O-rings. "It's like a sex shop in here."
"That's the one," Gail said, her voice low and decisive. She pulled out a specific harness: thick, black leather straps crisscrossing to form a complex web, designed to frame and expose the wearer while offering multiple anchor points. It looked heavy, purposeful, belonging unquestionably to Karen. Next to it hung a shockingly short, blood-red leather skirt. "I'm wearing these."
Sarah’s eyes gleamed. "Fuck yes." She rummaged, pulling out a studded leather collar and matching wrist cuffs. "These for me. And… oh, hello." She held up a pair of heavy chrome nipple clamps connected by a delicate chain and a thick, ridged black dildo that looked alarmingly realistic. "Just in case."
Gail stripped quickly, shucking off her t-shirt and leggings, standing naked in the cool closet air. Her skin prickled with nerves and arousal. She stepped into the red leather skirt. It barely covered her ass, the hem hitting mid-thigh only because of her height. The harness was next. She struggled briefly with the buckles, the cool leather stiff against her skin. The straps hugged her ribs, cinched her waist, the central panel pressing just above her pubic mound, the O-rings hanging heavy and prominent between her legs and above each hip bone. She felt transformed: exposed, vulnerable, powerfully slutty, wearing the mistress’s own armor.
Sarah clipped the studded collar around her neck, the cold metal clicking shut. She fastened the cuffs loosely around her wrists for now. She held the clamps and dildo like trophies.
They looked at each other in the full-length mirror inside the closet door. Gail: a petite, blonde vision in stolen, severe leather, radiating a nervous defiance. Sarah: taller, voluptuous, cinched in red satin, fishnets ripped, collar gleaming, embodying eager debauchery. A matched set, presented for consumption.
The distant click of an office door closing made them freeze. Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Coming towards the bedroom.
"Shit, he's done!" Gail hissed. "Go! Hide in the bathroom! Wait for my signal!"
Sarah scrambled, slipping silently into the adjoining en suite bathroom, leaving the door cracked just enough to see through. Gail took a deep, shaky breath, squaring her shoulders. She walked out of the closet, leaving its door slightly ajar, a deliberate reveal for later.
She positioned herself near the foot of the massive bed, facing the bedroom door. Sunlight caught the dust in the air, illuminating her like an exhibit. Her heart thundered. She felt the leather straps bite into her skin, the cool air on her exposed flesh beneath the harness. The memory of Josh’s hands on her, his cock splitting her open, flooded her, a mix of fear and desperate need tightening her core.
The door opened.
Josh stood there, still in his work slacks and untucked blue button-down, sleeves rolled up. He looked tired, distracted, probably heading to change. Then his eyes landed on her. All movement stopped. His expression didn't change dramatically at first, just a slow, deep freeze settling over his features. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in the defiant slash of red leather barely covering her, the intricate web of black straps hugging her torso, the blatant invitation of the O-rings. His eyes narrowed, a storm brewing in their blue depths. His jaw tightened.
"What," he said, his voice dangerously low, cutting through the stillness like shattering ice, "the fuck are you wearing?"
Gail lifted her chin, meeting his gaze, her own defiance fueled by adrenaline and the memory of his brutal possession. She needed to push him over the edge she knew existed. "Karen's things fit surprisingly well, Mr. Scott," she purred, her voice trembling only slightly. She spread her stance slightly, making the O-rings sway. "I thought you might appreciate the view."
His eyes flickered to the slightly open closet door, then back to her. He took a single step into the room, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft click that sounded like a trap springing. "You think this is a game, Gail? After what you pulled? After what I did to you?" A vein pulsed in his temple.
"It felt like you enjoyed it, Sir," she breathed, the submissive inflection deliberate, recalling his commands, his ownership. "I just wanted… more. To give you more." She saw his gaze drop again, lingering on the leather panel pressing against her lower belly, on the exposed skin above it. She saw the bulge in his slacks begin to tent, undeniable despite the anger radiating from him.
"More?" he echoed, a dark, predatory note entering his voice. He took another step closer. The air crackled. "You think you can handle more, you greedy little cunt?"
This was it. Gail swallowed, her throat dry. "Not just me, Sir," she said, raising her voice just enough. "Sarah? Come out."
The bathroom door opened wider. Sarah stepped out, her earlier bravado replaced by a palpable nervous excitement that only heightened her sluttish appeal. The red corset squeezed her waist, her tits spilling over the top. The studded collar gleamed. The chrome nipple clamps dangled from one hand, the thick black dildo held loosely in the other. Her fishnet-clad legs seemed to wobble slightly as she moved to stand slightly behind and to the side of Gail, presenting herself.
Josh’s gaze snapped to Sarah. His eyes widened fractionally, then narrowed again, sweeping over her revealing attire, the collar, the toys in her hands. A slow, utterly ruthless smile stretched across his face. It wasn't kind. It was the smile of a man presented with an unexpected, deeply satisfying feast. He looked back at Gail, then at Sarah, then back at Gail. The fury hadn't vanished; it had merely fused with a predatory, calculating lust.
"Well, well," he murmured, the sound rough, sending shivers down both women's spines. He unbuttoned his cuffs, slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving them. "Looks like one worthless slut brought a friend to play." He took the final steps towards them, stopping less than a foot away. The scent of his cologne, clean and expensive, mixed with the leather and their own rising fear and arousal. He focused on Gail, his hand lifting, not to strike, but to trace the edge of the leather harness strap running diagonally across her collarbone. His fingertip was warm, deliberate. "This wasn't yours to take, little girl." His gaze flicked to Sarah, then back. "But since you're both here… dressed like the cheap whores you are…" He leaned in, his breath hot against Gail's ear. "Show me exactly what you think I want." His hand slid lower, over the harness, towards the O-ring hanging between her legs. "And make it filthy."
Josh’s command hung in the air, thick as the scent of leather and their mingled sweat. Gail’s breath hitched. This was the precipice. She turned, the red leather skirt rasping against her thighs, and grabbed Sarah’s face. Her kiss wasn't gentle; it was possessive, demanding, tongues tangling roughly, a performance for the man watching. Sarah moaned into her mouth, fingers tightening on the dildo she still held.
"On your knees," Gail ordered, breaking the kiss, her voice husky with manufactured authority. She gave Sarah a small push towards the polished hardwood floor. "Now, Sarah."
Sarah obeyed instantly, scrambling gracelessly onto her knees, the fishnets catching on the smooth surface. Her corset strained with her rapid breaths. Gail circled her slowly, deliberately, like a panther sizing up prey, her boots clicking softly. She stopped behind Josh, who hadn’t moved, his icy-blue gaze tracking her every step, the bulge in his slacks impossibly hard against the fabric. Gail pressed her front against his back, feeling the rigid tension in his shoulders. Her small hands slid around his waist.
"So," she purred directly into his ear, her breath warm. "Do you like my gift for you, Sir?" One hand dropped lower, palming the hard ridge of his cock through his trousers. She felt the shudder that ran through him. "I think that’s a yes." Her fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, the clink loud in the tense silence, then wrestled the button and zipper down.
Josh didn't help, didn't move. He just watched Sarah kneel before him, her eyes wide, lips parted, the crimson lipstick slightly smudged from Gail’s kiss. Gail shoved his slacks and boxers down over his hips in one rough motion. His cock sprang free, thick and already flushed deep red, jutting aggressively towards Sarah’s face. Precum glistened at the tip.
Sarah let out a tiny whimper, licking her lips instinctively, her gaze fixed on the demanding flesh inches from her mouth. Gail moved back behind her. She tangled her fingers roughly in Sarah’s teased dark hair, fisting it close to the scalp, pulling her head back sharply. Sarah gasped, her neck arching.
"Open wide, slut," Josh rumbled, his voice gravelly, finally speaking directly to Sarah. "Show me what you’re good for."
As Sarah leaned forward, mouth opening obediently, Gail snatched the thick, ridged black dildo from Sarah’s lax grip. Sarah flinched but didn't resist, her focus consumed by the cock nudging her lips. Gail brought the dildo up slowly, her eyes locked on Josh as he watched Sarah take the swollen head into her hot mouth.
Gail ran her tongue along the entire veined length of the fake cock, coating it obscenely with her spit. She made sure Josh saw the wet slide, the deliberate provocation. Sarah began to suck, bobbing her head tentatively, her lips stretching obscenely wide around Josh’s girth. A low groan escaped him, his hand coming down to fist in Sarah’s hair alongside Gail’s, guiding her deeper.
Gail didn’t hesitate. Hiking Sarah’s tiny pleather skirt up to her waist, she exposed the soaked black lace thong beneath. With a sharp tug, she ripped the flimsy fabric aside. Sarah was dripping, her cunt lips swollen and glistening, utterly exposed. Gail spat directly onto Sarah’s exposed hole, the glob landing with a wet slap. Sarah moaned around Josh’s cock, the vibration making his hips jerk.
Positioning the slick, spit-coated tip of the dildo against Sarah’s entrance, Gail pushed. Hard. No easing. Sarah’s body arched violently, a muffled scream catching around Josh’s dick as the thick, ridged intrusion forced her open. Gail leaned her weight into it, burying the dildo to the hilt in one brutal shove, feeling the tight, wet heat clamp down.
"Holy fuck," Josh gritted out, watching Gail’s arm work, pistoning the dildo deep into Sarah’s cunt while Sarah choked on his cock. "You two are filthy little beasts." Sarah’s eyes streamed, gagging and whimpering, impaled at both ends, her body trapped between their forceful hands. Gail worked the dildo ruthlessly, the slick schlick-schlick sound filling the room, counterpoint to Sarah's wet, strangled gasps and the slap of Gail's hand against her ass. Josh started fucking Sarah’s mouth in earnest, his grip painful on her scalp, his thrusts matching Gail’s brutal pace. Spit and precum slicked Sarah's chin. Gail watched the obscene bulge the dildo made low in Sarah’s belly with each inward thrust, a savage satisfaction twisting inside her. This was the offering. This was the filth he demanded. And it was working. His cock pulsed violently in Sarah’s throat, his knuckles white where they gripped her hair. Gail slammed the dildo home one final time, grinding the base against Sarah’s clit as the kneeling girl convulsed, a broken sob escaping around Josh’s shaft. He roared, a guttural sound ripped from his chest, and slammed his hips forward, burying himself to the root down Sarah’s throat as his orgasm tore through him. Gail felt Sarah’s cunt clamp down like a vice around the invading silicone as Josh emptied himself in brutal spurts. Sarah’s body went rigid, then limp, held up only by their cruel grips in her hair, her eyes rolling back, overwhelmed, used, filled.
Sarah’s body went rigid, then limp, held up only by their cruel grips in her hair, her eyes rolling back, overwhelmed, used, filled. Josh finally pulled his softening cock from her slack mouth with a wet pop, strings of spit and cum connecting her ruined lips to him. He released her hair, letting her slump forward onto her hands, coughing and sputtering, the thick dildo still buried obscenely deep in her cunt, its ridged base pressing against her ass. Gail withdrew the toy slowly, deliberately, watching thick, viscous liquid seep from Sarah’s well-stretched hole onto the polished floor.
"Fuck," Sarah rasped, chest heaving, tears and mascara streaking her cheeks. She looked wrecked, kneeling in a puddle of her own mess.
Josh ignored her. He wiped himself roughly on the edge of the rumpled duvet, his eyes, cold and assessing, locked onto Gail. The fury hadn't dissipated; it simmered beneath a veneer of dark satisfaction. He tucked himself away, zipping his slacks with sharp efficiency. He walked around the trembling Sarah, his polished shoes stepping over the mess without a glance. He stopped inches from Gail, his presence a physical pressure. The scent of sex, sweat, and leather clung to him.
"That little display," he murmured, his voice dangerously quiet, a stark contrast to his earlier roar. His hand shot out, grabbing Gail’s chin, forcing her head back to meet his icy stare. The leather harness straps dug into her skin under his grip. "Think it makes up for stealing my wife's things? For bringing trash into my house?" His thumb pressed hard against her lower lip, pulling it down. "For being a greedy, disobedient little cunt?"
Gail’s defiance flickered, replaced by a spike of cold fear. "I... I wanted to please you, Sir," she stammered, the submissive tone feeling brittle.
"Pleasing me isn't about what you want," he hissed, his fingers tightening, making her wince. "It's about what I take." He released her chin, his gaze snapping to Sarah, who was shakily trying to push herself up. "Get the fuck up, whore."
Sarah scrambled clumsily to her feet, legs trembling, one hand instinctively moving to cover her exposed, dripping cunt. Josh stalked towards her. He grabbed her wrists, still encircled by the loose chrome cuffs she’d chosen from Karen’s collection. With brutal efficiency, he snapped the cuffs tight, the metal biting into her skin with a final, metallic click.
"Hey! Ow, fuck!" Sarah yelped, trying to pull back.
Josh didn't hesitate. He yanked hard on the chain connecting the cuffs, hauling her stumbling towards the massive bed. Gail watched, frozen, as he dragged Sarah the last few feet. He shoved her roughly against the heavy, ornately carved wooden bedpost. Reaching up, he fastened the short chain linking her wrists directly to the large, polished D-ring bolted to the top of the post. Sarah was stretched taut, arms raised high, completely exposed, her back pressed against the dark wood. Her ripped fishnets were ruined, the cheap corset askew, her tear-streaked face a mask of dazed panic. "What the hell are you doing?" she gasped, pulling uselessly against the cuffs.
Josh turned. His focus shifted entirely to Gail. There was no tenderness in his eyes, only predatory intent. He closed the distance between them in two strides. Before Gail could react, his hands slammed into her shoulders. She flew backwards, the breath knocked out of her as she hit the soft mattress, bouncing once. Her head swam, the room tilting. The red leather skirt rode up, the harness straps cutting into her flesh with the impact.
He was on her instantly. His strong hands grabbed her thighs just above the knees, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. He wrenched her legs apart, spreading her wide. Gail cried out as the sudden exposure sent a jolt through her core. The cool air of the room hit her soaked pussy, the intricate harness framing her glistening folds like a lewd display case. Her soaked blonde curls were plastered to her skin, the scent of her arousal thick and musky.
Josh didn't pause. He dropped to his knees between her splayed legs, his gaze locked on her exposed cunt with a terrifying intensity. Gail’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. "Sir, I—" she started, voice trembling.
He didn’t let her finish. He buried his face between her legs, not with finesse, but with ravenous hunger. His mouth covered her entire pussy, hot and demanding. His tongue, broad and rough, licked a hard, wet stripe from her tight little asshole all the way up through her slick folds to her swollen clit. Gail gasped, back arching off the bed involuntarily. It wasn't gentle exploration; it was a claiming. He devoured her. His tongue stabbed deep into her entrance, lapping hungrily at the juices flooding out, then circled her clit with relentless, bruising pressure. He groaned against her, the vibration rattling through her bones, the sound feral, possessive.
"Fuck! Oh god!" Gail choked out, her fingers twisting in the expensive duvet cover. The intensity was overwhelming, brutal. His stubble scraped her inner thighs, adding a sharp edge to the sensory onslaught. He sucked her clit hard into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the hypersensitive bud with ruthless precision. She could feel the scrape of his teeth, the sheer, overwhelming wet heat as he feasted on her like a starving man. Her thighs, still held wide by his iron grip on her legs, began to shake violently. Pleasure, raw and terrifyingly intense, coiled deep in her belly, tightening with each ruthless lick, each deep plunge of his tongue inside her. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only feel the relentless pressure building, spurred on by the dark possessiveness of his mouth on her most intimate flesh.
Her body seized. A strangled scream tore from Gail’s throat as the orgasm detonated, a white-hot explosion that shattered her awareness. Her thighs clamped down hard on either side of Josh’s head, trapping him against her as wave after wave of convulsive pleasure ripped through her. She thrashed, her back bowing off the bed, the leather harness straps straining. The scream echoed off the high ceiling, raw and primal.
Sarah, cuffed helplessly to the bedpost a few feet away, watched with wide, shocked eyes. She saw Gail’s body convulse, heard the animalistic scream, saw the tight clench of Gail’s thighs around Josh's head as he continued to lap and suck relentlessly, drawing out every spasm. Sarah felt a fresh surge of wetness between her own legs, the sight of Gail’s raw, brutal pleasure both terrifying and deeply arousing. Her own wrists ached against the metal cuffs. Josh finally lifted his head slightly, his chin glistening with Gail’s release, his eyes blazing with a dark, satisfied fire as he watched her shudder through the aftershocks. Gail collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent, gasping for air, her body still trembling uncontrollably. The scent of her climax hung heavy in the air. Josh slowly rose to his feet, towering over her ruined form, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze already sliding back towards Sarah, cuffed and waiting.