Ohmigod no! If Marc Chapelle and his expert exploratory tunnel diving fingers came anywhere near my screaming pussy, I was going to come in about three seconds. The lewd hunger coursing through my core was overwhelming. One man's fingers might not be enough – I wanted four hands rubbing my clit and plundering every hole until the desperate thirst was quenched.

I was in a frenzy of need to let go of the sexual tension racking my body, the filthy desires running amok in my core. But, although Marc was hot and a magician with a G-spot, it was Valentine’s fingers I yearned to have inside me. The more he withheld himself from me, the more painful was my need. I hung almost-suspended from the chains holding me aloft, my breasts exposed and my slit half bare, waiting breathlessly to see who was going to take their desire from me.

Eventually, propelled to action by Valentine's insistence, Marc moved across the dungeon, his entire form blazing into mine as he came up close, so close my nipples tingled at his proximity.

“I don't believe you were wearing zeese,” he said in a voice thick with relish and slipped the thin bands of lace down over my hips and thighs until they snagged at my knees.

My bare pussy convulsed at being exposed, He left the underwear, his attention absorbed by my slit as his hand reached into my fevered folds. It took every iota of strength not to moan and buckle at the knee as his fingers grazed across my engorged clit, finding the throbbing center and swirling in its juices

“Stop.”

The harsh order came from Valentine and Marc immediately complied, slipping his fingers out of my dripping vulva. I felt the interior howl at his departure as my nectar ran out of my pussy down my inner thigh.

“You didn’t inflict the wounds to her gorgeous ass like that? Was it you?”

Valentine was beside me now, the two men on either side, I could feel the force of them glaring at each other across my blindfolded face.

“Marc didn't spank me,” I blurted out, before the Frenchie had a chance to get us into deeper trouble with our boss. “That wasn't Marc, Sir,” I added in a less decisive tone.

I felt Valentine’s head turn to me in surprise – It is truly astounding what you can see when you can't take in a single thing with your eyeballs.

“You mean someone else had the pleasure of giving you that spanking right before you came to me?” he demanded.

Through my covered gaze and every pore, I felt Marc Chapelle’s surprise on the other side of my naked body. Then his amusement at discovering my lascivious desire. How I could take two different men in one evening, before becoming the slave to a third.

“Yes, sir.”

My head tilted forward in shame no matter how hard I tried to force my chin up high. Surely Valentine would never touch me now. What interest would he have in the sex-mad little tramp I seemed to have become? It could only have been Josh that spanked me- Valentine would realize that. It had been his strange envy for my relationship back in New York that had induced this punishment session in the first place. Words boiled up in me and over in my eagerness to pull him back to me.

“I didn't know, back then, that-”

“Be quiet,” Valentine barked. “You will speak to me only when I ask you a question or indicate that you may voice your opinion.”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered.

“Hm, I'm not convinced by your submission. Your headstrong nature causes you to forget your commitments.”

He'd moved behind me and I clenched my core, waiting for punishment as Valentine daggered his fingers through the hair he'd unpinned and let flow only a short time before. I couldn’t put that voluptuous kiss across the dining table out of my mind. He tugged until so my head stretched back and the gold halter pressed against my windpipe, then wrapped another bind of fabric between my lips.

He pulled tight on the second knot at the back of my skull so I was knotted and tied all over my upper body, which only made the wet nakedness down below more poignant. The air around me cooled as both masculine hunks moved away from me and I heard the contraption that was restraining me jerk into action.

My wrists were dragged forward until I was forced to bend over at the waist. I had to arch my back hard to maintain balance which stuck my ass up high in the air. With my panties still tangled around my open knees and my tits hanging delicious in their repression, my juices began to run free again.

The flick through the air behind my head interrupted my struggle to regain equilibrium in my new stance and was instantly followed by searing across my bare ass as the crop came down. Valentine lashed my tender upturned cheeks over and over until hot tears pressed from my eyes into the silk mask and I whimpered into the one gagging me.

“She needs to 'ave a safe word.” The husky French accent penetrated my miasma of emotional excess. Marc's voice came from across the cold room- he had to be observing my thrashing.

“I don't play safe, she knows that,” Valentine growled as he brought the lash whipping across my skin again. “And so do you, Marc.”

“She is very exposed,” Marc persisted despite Valentine's dangerous tone.

“If by that you mean vulnerable, that's the whole fucking point, isn't it?”

“But the sub should feel the ultimate control.”

Arghhh. Shut up, shut up, shut up, Marc. Did I ask you to rescue me?

The more Marc made his own entertainment by leaning on Jay Valentine, the harder our master eviscerated my ass cheeks. Every stroke on my soft flesh bit harder into each of my senses. Valentine was furious at being questioned by a minion but his love for me came through. He was definitely regretting his idea of punishing me with a three-way game, forcing Marc to demonstrate the acts he had performed with me on the plane. I knew he felt double-crossed by me, by us. He was right – we had an intrinsic connection to each other. I seemed to feel his emotions as my own.

I understood now why Valentine disdained using the safe word. He was kicking our play up another notch and testing the ultimate level of trust between us. He said he was totally aware of what I was feeling and had no need of a safe word, because he was positive he'd know the instant I wanted him to stop. If he failed in that, there was no connection in our relationship. It was the connection, the deeper understanding of a mate, that made him play these games.

With a final lash across my buttocks, Valentine turned his attention to Marc and told him, in his usual placid voice; “Andie and I know who is in control.”

I quivered down to my deepest center when he used my name once more. I was coming to recognize that it too, was an indication of our closeness. When he called me Andie he was feeling something more special that the usual domination and submission relationship. He had effectively locked Marc out of our unique connection.