Submissive by Anya Howard Page A

face.
    Xaqriel!
    He addressed Sir Douglas. “This Disciple has forgotten the dangers that lurk about, as well as her station. Carelessness is as dangerous to her well-being as the fear of self-fulfillment. Make certain she is corrected for both.”
    â€œYes, certainly,” Sir Douglas answered. He bowed his head to Xaqriel and then told the guard holding Gillian to carry her to the roots of the tree she had headed for.
    The guard delivered her to the spot he had indicated, and set her on her feet as the other men came over. Sir Douglas drew out his crop again and snatched Gillian about the waist. He was stronger than she thought, and although she struggled to wrest herself from his hold, he sat down in the grass and pulled her over his lap. She tried to crawl off his thighs, but one of the others knelt and pinned her hands in front of her, while another held to her ankles. The crop struck her bare behind, scoring her flesh with stinging heat. She had hardly gasped when it came down again. He whipped her again and again, so that her buttocks soon felt swollen by the smarting pain. The implacable look on the face of the guard holding her wrists only added to her humiliation, and she begged Sir Douglas to stop.
    The crop paused, and Sir Douglas’s tone was hard with emotion. “You would speak unbidden? Gillian, your attitude needs much correction! I see now there is no alternative but to ensure you are treated with only the firmest hand. I will take full enjoyment in correcting your every single flaw, no matter how long it takes!”
    He tossed the crop to the grass and spanked her already sore buttocks with a strong hand. Gillian squirmed over his lap and her wails ascended into the night air. Though she wept, the guard holding her arms did not take his eyes from her, as if his spectatorship was part of the chastisement.
    At last, Sir Douglas stayed his hand. Gillian’s buttocks surged with fire as he nodded to the guards. They let go of her limbs now, but Gillian was terrified to move without Sir Douglas’s command.
    He lifted the crop again and with the end, spread her thighs. With his fingers he patted her pussy lips, and to her chagrin, her vulva swelled with life. His forefinger delved into her sex, rousing her desire full force. And when the crop struck her backside again, her clit throbbed.
    â€œCrawl onto the grass and remain on your hands and knees,” he ordered.
    Gillian did not question. She did just as he instructed, lowering her face before the trunk of the tree. She heard him rise and hoped he was going to take her back to the household now, away from the eyes of the others.
    Instead, he lifted the length of her hair and pulled her about to face him. His pants were unbuttoned, and now he lowered them. With his free hand, he massaged the head of his cock. Two guards came over, and even though she could not see their faces well, she felt the lust in their eyes.
    â€œFuck me with your mouth,” Sir Douglas commanded, releasing her hair, “but do not lift your hands.”
    She crawled before him and took his cock into her mouth. As she began to pleasure it, she felt hands upon her backside and whimpered as her nether lips were spread and fingers pinched the head of her clit. It pulsed wildly and a few moments later, a cock, narrow but long, entered her pussy.
    The guard screwed her madly as she sucked Sir Douglas, and when her own pleasure began to build, her chaperon warned her to keep her thoughts on her work. She sucked to the root of his cock, not dallying in her efforts until his semen filled her mouth. When Sir Douglas had composed himself, he stepped aside and another guard took his place. This man’s shaft was velvet iron, his passion so eager that he rocked her face as she sucked. Soon his cum also burst down her throat.
    As he withdrew, she felt the climax of the one screwing her, and the jolt of it whipped her hungry passion into a frenzy. When he stepped