Page 37 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

I turn to Lance and find him already watching me. “In ten,” he calls from the side of his mouth, keeping his intense eyes on me. He leans forward, speaking to Aug around me. “Is this a consumption scene?”

Consumption. It’s something I haven’t been privy to yet. I learned a lot when I started here, and the first week consisted mostly of terminology. Consumption was one of them.

Certain actors have it written into their contract that they will take bodily fluids in their body, be it mouth, or other cavity. Uma is one of the actresses who is fine with it, and since the actors at Crave are tested twice a month, she never has to worry if it's safe.

Consumption, in my real life, is something I’ve never done. Like, ever. I always told myself it was taste or texture, I don’t know. But when I think back on giving Noah head, I can’t remember a time when I reallywantedto do it. And if you don’t want the twinkie in the first place, the cream filling is almost always unappetizing.

The countdown ends when Lance calls out, “Rolling” and the three of us lean forward, watching the scene unfold.

“On your knees, sweetheart,” Dean commands, tugging Uma off the bed by her hair. It’s not rough, though, and it makes the dominance in the scene powerful. Already.

“Now come on over here,” Max adds, patting his thigh. Hmm. I’ve never seen that. When Uma arrives between them, Max grabs something off the night table behind him, and with his hands hidden under the curtain of Uma’s hair, I’m not sure what he’s doing. But when he rises, grabbing his erection as he grins down at Uma, I realize.

It’s acollar.

Thick, black, with a silver buckle in the front. Dean grabs something from the nightstand, too, and this time I see what he has as he works at Uma’s neck. Leashes. Plural. And when he’s done clipping them to her neck, each man takes a loose end.

They proceed to yank her by the neck, back and forth, using her mouth freely as she whimpers and moans. And everytime they slam themselves down her throat, only to be yanked away by the other, they praise her.

“Good job, sweetheart, you’re making us proud.” I don’t even know who says it because I can’t take my focus from her jaw. The hinges spread as her mouth opens wide, the way her eyes water and her nostrils flare. The sharp tug of the leash, making her head whip between the two of them. My eyes move to them, each holding their meaty cocks by the base, guiding themselves between her spread lips when it’s their turn.

It’s… got me squirming in my chair. I’m wet right now, without a doubt. But I keep my eyes focused ahead, listening to the small cues put out by both Lance and Aug.

The scene finishes with Uma taking a mouthful from each actor, and the remaining fifteen minutes at Crave are kind of a horny haze. The actors tidy up, collect their things from their lockers, and head out. Cohen turns off all the lights, fiddles at the switches near the door, and leaves. Then I’m being ushered out to the parking lot, and into my car, my neck damp from sweat as I follow Aug and Lance to Aug’s place.

I thought tonight would be more talking, but after witnessing that scene, my desire to talk it out has all but evaporated.

sixteen

Perfect doesn’t last forever.

brielle

Aug’s houseis so fucking nice. Like, it looks like a house in an artsy movie, complete with an infinity pool, modern white everything and sleek edges everywhere. Like, if I bump into anything, I’m getting a bruise.

It smells good too. Fresh laundry and bourbon, sandalwood with a hint of a hard working man. It’s not helping the vibrating need between my legs, and as Lance settles into a plush, overstuffed white sofa near the fireplace, I’m reminded that these two weretogether. For a while. He’s sat on that sofa many times. His comfort reminds me that they havehistory, and that they’re forging ahead… with me.

Even if it ends up being just a few wild nights, still, they trust me to be with them.

I swallow hard, nodding toward the fireplace stuffed with books and newspapers. “You don’t use it? A fireplace is perfect for a cool evening in the bay.”

“Who cares about the fucking fireplace,” Lance gruffs, but he’s smirking.

“Eager?” Aug questions, coming into the room with three glasses.Of water. “We don’t do things drunk. Not for the first few times at least,” he says of the drink choice.

The roof of my mouth clings to my parched tongue. “Do things?”

Lance pats the couch next to him, being more inviting than he ever has. I take a seat, and chills drip down my spine as his knuckles come to graze the side of my neck. He pushes my hair over my shoulder. “No ponytail tonight?” he utters, taking in the long waves toppling down my back.

I shake my head, feeling a bit dizzy. “No, I guess I was preoccupied,” I admit, though they know that. They watched me like a hawk for the entire final scene and I know why. They’ve explained as much.

Lance needs to fulfill the dominance inside of him, and he and Aug are desperate to be together. Another sub is the only way.

I knew this all along, but as Aug sits on the other side of me, I suddenly feel like… a prop. No different from a lamp on set the actor switches to illuminate the real scene, the bottle of lube stashed beneath the bed—a means to an end.

Have fun. Don’t overthink it. No one promised you anything. You’re here to break the boring streak. Live a little.Exhaling through pursed lips, I face Aug first, because he speaks to me.

“Self pep talk?”

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