It was just after sunrise when the first knock echoed through the quiet cabin.
Vivienne stirred from Jack’s bed, skin bare under a linen sheet, her legs still aching pleasantly from the night before. Arielle was curled beside her, equally naked, lips parted in sleep.
Another knock.
But this time, not at the front door.
It came from within the workshop.
Vivienne’s breath caught.
She knew what that meant.
She untangled herself from the warmth of the bed, pulled on Jack’s flannel shirt—hanging open over her naked body—and padded barefoot across the cabin floor. She didn’t wake Arielle. Not yet.
The workshop door was slightly ajar. Morning sun filtered through high windows, casting golden light on polished wood, coiled tools, sawdust motes spinning lazily in the air.
But beyond that—at the back of the workshop—was a second door.
A thick one. Oak. Reinforced. Almost invisible unless you knew it was there.
Jack stood in front of it—bare-chested, jeans low on his hips, arms crossed, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“You came,” he said, voice gravel and warmth.
Vivienne nodded, heart already quickening. “You called.”
Jack opened the door.
And she stepped inside.
The Room
It wasn’t large.
But it was precise.
The floor was polished hardwood. Smooth. Clean. A padded bench sat along one wall—broad and low. A high-beam cross stood in one corner, carved and sanded with Jack’s own hands. A thick leather strap hung from a wooden peg. No chains. No cages. Just craftsmanship. Dominance. And intent.
Jack shut the door behind them. The scent of cedar oil hung heavy.
“You’re ready for more,” he said.
Vivienne nodded.
“I’ve watched you. Watched you surrender. Watched you serve. But now it’s time to be trained.”
Vivienne’s breath caught. “Yes, Jack.”
He stepped closer. Touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Take off the shirt. Keep your hands behind your back.”
She obeyed.
The flannel fell away.
Her breasts peaked instantly in the cool air. She stood—shoulders back, chin up, hands clasped behind her—completely exposed.
Jack circled her slowly. “Good posture.”
A sound came from the doorway behind him.
Vivienne didn’t turn.
But she knew.
Arielle.
Jack didn’t look either. Just said, “Close the door, girl. And strip.”
Soft footsteps. The rustle of cotton slipping to the floor. Bare skin on wood.
Then silence.
Jack turned back to Vivienne. “Kneel.”
She sank to her knees. Slow. Controlled.
Arielle joined her seconds later—naked, flushed, her breathing already shallow.
Jack stood before them—commanding, calm, deliberate.
“This isn’t just sex,” he said. “This is obedience. This is about knowing how to please… without question.”
Vivienne nodded. Arielle mirrored it.
Jack reached for the strap.
“Hands behind your heads,” he ordered. “Eyes on me.”
The Training Begins
He didn’t strike them.
Not yet.
Jack ran the strap across their skin—first over Vivienne’s shoulder, then across Arielle’s collarbone. It wasn’t pain. It was reminder. Of who held the power. Of what it meant to be in this room.
“Open your mouths,” he said.
Both women obeyed.
Jack slid his fingers first into Vivienne’s mouth—slow, letting her tongue swirl around them. Then into Arielle’s—her eyes fluttering as she sucked gently.
“Good,” he murmured. “Very good.”
He walked behind them now, kneeling between their bodies, his hands gliding down their backs, over their hips, fingers grazing the curve of their asses.
Vivienne moaned softly when he spread her thighs wider.
Arielle whimpered when he did the same to her.
“Lie down,” he ordered. “On your backs. Side by side. Legs apart.”
They obeyed.
Jack knelt between them, admiring them like his finest creation—two women, stretched open, wet and ready under his gaze.
He leaned in and began with Vivienne—his tongue tracing slow, devastating circles over her clit, fingers sliding deep inside until her moans turned to pleas.
Then he turned to Arielle—licking her slower, then faster, his hand gripping Vivienne’s thigh while her cries filled the room.
Back and forth.
Tasting.
Commanding.
Owning.
When they both started to tremble—on the edge—he stopped.
And stood.
Taken Together
Jack dropped his jeans.
His cock was thick. Hard. Veined. Already leaking.
“Vivienne. Bend over the bench.”
She moved instantly.
“Hold the edge. Don’t move.”
She obeyed.
“Arielle. On your knees. Tongue out.”
She dropped and opened her mouth.
Jack grabbed her by the hair, pulled her in tight, and used her—fucking her mouth slowly, letting her feel every inch. Then he pulled out, moved behind Vivienne, and slammed into her in one brutal, thick stroke.
Vivienne cried out—half pleasure, half surrender.
Jack grunted. Pounded her deep. Fast. Every thrust echoed in the room.
He leaned forward, growling in her ear, “This is what obedience earns.”
Vivienne came hard—legs shaking, breath gone, moaning his name.
Then Jack pulled out and turned to Arielle—bent her over the padded bench beside Vivienne, grabbed both their hips together.
And took them.
One. Then the other.
Arielle was tighter. Softer. She screamed when he filled her.
Vivienne kissed her neck. “Take it, baby… Let him make you his…”
Jack growled, thrusting hard. Faster. Both women clung to the bench, bodies slick and shuddering.
He came inside Vivienne first—deep, full, claiming.
Then pulled out and filled Arielle next—hard, rough, final.
After
They collapsed into each other—bodies tangled on the floor of the hidden room.
Jack sat back in the wooden chair, breath steady, cock still half-hard, eyes heavy-lidded.
Vivienne crawled to him. Rested her head on his thigh.
Arielle curled beside her, nuzzling his leg.
He stroked their hair in silence…
And the training had only just begun.
Jack’s Page