Page 63 of Her Viking Master

I heard the sound again, but the thwack of the horrid thing came from Camille’s bottom rather than mine, and it was my friend who cried out, the jerk of her body moving the bench beneath us.

Then my second stroke landed, slightly lower than the first. Tears sprang to my eyes as I cried out again. He whipped Camille a second time, and then the third and final stroke on my backside came quickly after. I sobbed openly, my bottom feeling as if it were on fire.

“Stand up,” Beaumont commanded. “I want you both to go look at yourselves in the mirror. See what happens to naughty girls who disobey.”

Camille and I moved to the full-length mirror on the far wall, our steps slow and unsteady. As I turned to look over my shoulder at my reflection, I gasped softly in mingled dismay and unwelcome arousal. Three angry red welts crossed my pale skin, already beginning to darken into bruises. Camille’s bottom looked much the same, the marks just as stark against her darker complexion.

As I stared at our punished bottoms in the mirror, I felt the familiar warmth building between my legs. My pussy clenched involuntarily, and I had to bite back a moan. The sight of our marked flesh, the evidence of Beaumont’s dominance over us, was arousing me despite my best efforts to resist.

I glanced at Camille and thought I could see a similar struggle playing out on her face. Her cheeks had flushed, and her breathing had quickened. I felt sure she too had to fight against her body’s traitorous response.

“Beautiful,” Beaumont said. “I like to fuck a whipped bottom best of all. Now, into the shower with you.”

CHAPTER32

Mary

Trembling, Camille and I stepped into the massive shower stall. The cool tiles beneath my feet sent a shiver up my legs and through my body, clashing distractingly with the burning ache from my freshly caned bottom. The opulence surrounding us—gleaming chrome fixtures, multiple showerheads, and what looked like a built-in steam system, seemed a far cry from the communal showers at university, or even the Sons of Odin’s bathing chamber.

Beaumont’s voice cut through my observations. “Turn on the water, sluts. I want to see you get nice and wet for me.”

With shaking hands, I reached for the controls. Warm water cascaded over us from multiple directions, enveloping us in a cocoon of steam and droplets. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the heat soothe my aching muscles and stinging backside. When I opened them again, I saw Camille doing the same, her dark hair plastered to her face and neck.

“That’s it,” Beaumont purred, his eyes raking over our glistening bodies. “Now, show me how naughty you two really are. Kiss each other. And make it good—I want to see your sweet little tongues.”

I turned to face Camille, my heart racing. We’d done this before, of course, but the thought still made my cheeks get hot and my tummy flip. I could see the mixture of fear and determination in my sister’s eyes, mirroring my own emotions. Slowly, I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers.

The kiss started tentatively, but as Beaumont’s impatient growl reached our ears, we deepened it. I felt Camille’s tongue brush against mine, and I couldn’t help the small moan that escaped me. The warmth of her mouth, combined with the hot water cascading over us, was intoxicating.

“Better,” Beaumont said, his voice thick with lust. “Now, rub those pretty tits together. I want to see those nipples getting hard.”

We broke the kiss, both of us panting slightly. Camille’s cheeks were flushed, and I knew mine must be too. Slowly, we moved closer, our breasts pressing together. The sensation of her soft flesh against mine, our nipples brushing and hardening, sent a jolt of helpless arousal through me.

As we moved against each other, I saw an opportunity. Leaning in close, my lips brushing Camille’s ear, I whispered as quietly as I could, “Be ready. I’m sure the Guard will come for us.”

I felt Camille stiffen slightly, but to her credit, she didn’t break our rhythm. Her hands came up to cup my breasts, kneading gently as she whispered back, “Both of us?”

Before I could respond, Beaumont’s voice rang out again.

“Enough of that,” the magnate barked. “Now, I want you to press those sweet little cunts together. Hands on each other’s hips.”

My heart raced as Camille and I awkwardly maneuvered into position, our bodies slick with water. The feeling of her mound against mine sent a jolt of unwanted arousal through me. I could feel the heat of her sex, so different from the shower’s warm spray.

“Good girls,” Beaumont purred, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “Now, I want you to pee. Right now, just like that.”

I felt the blood drain from my face as his words sank in. Surely he couldn’t mean… But the stern look in his eyes told me he was entirely serious.

“Please, Monsieur,” I whimpered, hating how pathetic I sounded. “We can’t… it’s too… you know… too embarrassing.”

“You will do as I say,” Beaumont growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Or would you prefer another session with the cane?”

Tears welled in my eyes as I realized we had no choice. I met Camille’s gaze, seeing my own mortification reflected there. Slowly, we both nodded.

I closed my eyes, trying to relax enough to let go. It felt impossible, with Camille pressed against me and Beaumont’s hungry gaze on us both. But gradually, I felt the pressure in my bladder build until I couldn’t hold back any longer.

The first trickle of urine escaping me felt like liquid fire. I sobbed openly as I felt it flow down my legs, mingling with the shower water. Against me, I could feel Camille trembling, her own stream joining mine.

The utter humiliation of the act overwhelmed me. I’d never felt so degraded, so stripped of my dignity. And yet, to my horror, I could feel a perverse thrill flaring through me. My clit throbbed traitorously, and I prayed Beaumont wouldn’t notice my body’s shameful response.

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