Page 11 of The Best Trick

“If you don't know the answer to that, we might have to look into a cognitive test,” I said.

“Oh, you are pushing it now,” Odin said in a scolding tone. “Pants, all the way off,” he commanded. “Strip her all the way, Zeus.”

By now, I was quivering with anticipation, and excited to taunt them further. If worse came to worst, I could always use my safe word, Mississippi.

Zeus made me step out of my jeans in the grumbly and surly way that always turned me on. Eventually I was totally naked, being carried, fireman-style, by Zeus into the three-season porch. Thor appeared with some silken lengths of rope. He tied my hands behind me.

Odin bent me over a tallish buffet-type thing so that my ass was exposed to Zeus and Odin and the warm Pacific breeze blowing in through the open windows.

Would we not even make it to the hot tub?

Rough hands pushed my legs apart. Large fingers invaded my sex, pressing between my legs, sliding the juices around, arousing me.

I gasped, on the verge already.

“This is what I knew that I would find,” Zeus grumbled, stroking me. “A wet pussy craving to be punished for impudence. One wet pussy that knows it belongs to us and only us, craving to be punished.”

Thor came around the front of me, sliding a hand over my hair. “You know that we have to do this,” he said. “You taunted us so much in the car, it has to be balanced out.”

I whimpered, playing the sorry ingenue, trying not to smile. It would’ve been really bad if I’d laughed, and it was so hard not to because I loved the we-must-punish-Isis game. And especially the we-must-punish-Isis-in-a-harsh-and-sexual-way game, and the we-must-do-shockingly-dirty-things-to-Isis game—which, needless to say, is not available in your local toy stores.

Slowly, Thor began to undo his pants.

I was only half paying attention, what with Zeus making me mindless with pleasure with what he was doing to my clitoris back there.

“You must not come, yet. Things will not go well,” Odin said.

“Well…Zeus can’t keep doing that, then,” I said in a strangled voice. “Omigod,” I added, panting, pure pleasure thrumming through my veins, electricity building behind my eyes.

“Zeus gets to do whatever he wants,” Odin said, slapping my ass, which sent me reeling with extra pleasure.

I focused on sheep breeds. There was the Merino, the docile Texel sheep, the Suffolk, the cute Valais blacknose.

“Your body is ours to use for our pleasure,” Odin muttered threateningly. “If we want to press our fingers to your pussy, to explore all of your pussy that we own and enjoy, that is what we will do. Understand?”

“Okay,” I gasped.

“And if we want to bring you to the verge of orgasm, to feel every vulnerable nerve ending in your clit stand at attention for us, primed to explode with one more stroke, we will.”

“Uhhhh…” I said.

Zeus stroked on.

Romanov…a regal breed of sheep.

“If we want to bring you there and stop moving, and forbid you to come, that is what we will do.”

“Okay,” I whispered, mind melting. Would I have to move to presidential birthdays?

“And if we want to bring you to the verge of orgasm and thennotstop moving, but to continue to stroke and own you with rough, careless hands, then that is what we will do.”

Oh, Odin could be wicked! I was on the verge of orgasm. I was very nearly weeping with the effort not to burst into orgasm.

Taking his cue from Odin, Zeus began to stroke me carelessly.

We would definitely not be making it to the hot tub.

In front of me, Thor continued to fumble with his fly, and then he stomped out of his pants, revealing his sexy, muscular legs and his beautiful golden cock, sprung up at attention. He knelt, facing me. “Ice,” he whispered.

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