Juliette

Luc stepped back away from her, without giving her the courtesy of pulling her skirt down. He faced M. Leclair, waving his hands palm forward in front of his chest, and stumbled a step forward. It was difficult for him to walk with his khakis still around his ankles.

"Monsieur Leclair, sir," he said. "It's not what it appears."

M. Leclair's nostrils flared. "I believe it very much is what it appears, Luc. Do not bother to lie to me."

Juliette stood up from the worktable and folded her hands in front of her apron. The cool, even tone of M. Leclair's voice was alarming and exciting. She'd never heard him this angry, or heard him try this hard to repress it. She cast her eyes downward. Her panties were sadly flopping from her left ankle, dragging in the dirt of the stone floor of the greenhouse. She didn't dare bend over to pull them up.

M. Leclair removed his cufflinks and placed them on the worktable. "You may breathe, Luc. I don't blame you. After all, she has the morals of an alley cat in estrus. I'm sure she pressured you into fucking her."

Luc nodded eagerly. Well, I hardly call that fair, or even remotely accurate, Juliette thought.

M. Leclair unfastened his belt and coiled it up, then placed it carefully on the table beside the cufflinks. "Remove your uniform," he said. He wouldn't even look at her. Juliette's heart bounced around inside her ribcage as she lifted the uniform over her head, tossed it aside over a rosemary bush in the corner, and stood naked but for her sneakers before him, her hands folded and her eyes fixed on his red face, awaiting further instructions. She tried to control her breathing so he wouldn't see her chest heaving.

M. Leclair unbuttoned his shirt. "I can't say that I'm surprised, but I'm very disappointed. You seem determined to make your discipline as painful as possible. Luc, stand here." Luc shuffled with his khakis around his ankles to the spot where M. Leclair had pointed. "You," he said to Juliette, still refusing to even speak her name aloud, "are to squat on your haunches between us and service both of us with your mouth and hands. Luc appears to have lost some of his... enthusiasm, and you will need to make my cock as wet as you can, for where it's going."

Juliette obediently squatted between them on the stones of the greenhouse floor. She wrapped one hand around the base of M. Leclair's cock, and one hand around the base of Luc's. Luc's was almost completely softened, so she started with him, eagerly accepting the challenge. She opened her eyes wide and gave Luc the "innocent young girl" look as she wrapped her warm, wet lips around the head of his faltering cock and fluttered her tongue against the head. She felt the blood immediately course in it against her lips and he hardened. She allowed him all the way into her mouth, kept her eyes on Luc's face and said, "Mmmmmmm," humming against his rapidly stiffening member. With her other hand, she stroked M. Leclair's much harder cock roughly along its full length, holding tight to both of them for balance as she bounced in her squat.

"Look at her, Luc," M. Leclair said. "Squatting in the dirt like a filthy animal." Luc groaned in response.

She switched to M. Leclair's cock. She suspected she knew what he'd meant by "for where it's going," so she purposefully drooled all over it as she sucked it greedily, looking up into his scowling face and giving him a gaze of wide eyed innocence as well. Her slick fingers slid up and down Luc's hard cock as she slathered warm spit all over M. Leclair's.

They were both ready.

"Luc, on your back on that bench, immediately. You. Mount him, facing away from me."

Luc lay back on a wooden bench in the aisle of the greenhouse, his cock pointing straight up. With a shiver of anticipation, she threw one leg over his hips, grasped his slick cock with one hand, and lowered her pussy onto it, breathing in deeply and letting the breath out as a moan as it slid easily against the moistened muscles inside her. Flexing the muscles of her legs, she bounced twice, the insides of her thighs rebounding against his hips as she allowed him all the way up inside her.

Luc's knuckles grazed the flagstones at either side of the bench. He was afraid to touch her in M. Leclair's presence.

She could feel M. Leclair's approach behind her, so she leaned far forward and arched her back, presenting her ass to him. She closed her eyes, awaiting the feeling, trying to relax.

"AaaaaaaaaaaAAAHH," she screamed as M. Leclair shoved his cock into her ass without pause or preamble, invading her brutally. She was still sore inside from the previous day's treatment, and the pain of his cock driving into her from behind was at first intense. Within seconds, the feeling of pain changed to an ecstatic bliss. She'd never had two men inside her at once before. She felt full to bursting. The pressure of both of them sliding around inside her, only separated by a thin wall of flesh, made her cry out and shudder. She braced her hands on Luc's shoulders, closed her eyes and bit her lower lip hard, grunting and moaning. The heat of the greenhouse, the earthy scent of growing things, and the smell of her own pussy and her sweat, and Luc's and her master's, all mingled in her nostrils, an intoxicating perfume.

They found a kind of rhythm inside her, M. Leclair thrusting in as Luc pulled out, then Luc thrusting in as her master pulled back. She ground her clit against the base of Luc's cock as she angled her ass to allow her master all the way inside her.

Juliette heard a whooshing sound in the air and then a burning sensation across her back. She looked back. M. Leclair was gripping her hip with one hand as he thrust brutally inside her. With his other hand, he held his own belt, lifted high above his head.

"You are not to look at me," he hissed. Juliette turned her head back forward, closed her eyes, and waited.

She didn't wait long. The belt fell across the white flesh of her back again, raising another red welt in a thin X shape, crossing the first.

"UNNGGH," Juliette grunted as the second blow fell. The pain was intense and combined with the pains and pleasures in the rest of the body, she began to lose control of all of her muscles, and was shuddering violently.

"You. Will. Learn." M. Leclair grunted between his teeth, punctuating each word with another blow from his belt across the white skin of her back and her ass. She counted five falls of the belt against her skin, and after five, she was no longer able to remember numbers.

She was shrieking wordlessly as he thrashed her, all of her muscles tensing up. Her vision began to blur. She was coming.

There was a sudden new sensation, something warm and rough wrapping around her slender neck. She heard the jingling noise of the buckle. M. Leclair had looped his belt around her neck through the buckle, and was beginning to pull it from behind.

"Aaaah--" she managed to squeeze out before all her air was cut off by the tightening belt. Huge red spots appeared in her vision and everything went fuzzy. Her body quaked violently as she came with a sudden and prolonged violence. She screamed. Her orgasm yanked her completely out of herself and she felt her connection to reality fade and then blink out entirely.

She blinked. She was slumped over, her hot cheek pressed to Luc's chest, gasping for air, the belt now loose around her neck. Her hands hung limply at either side, her fingertips touching the cool stone of the greenhouse floor. Luc's cock was still inside her, spent, softening.

She turned her head in the opposite direction. M. Leclair was standing next to Luc's face, his own softening cock level with Luc's mouth.

"She got her shit all over my cock, Luc," M. Leclair was in the midst of saying. "Clean it off."

"S-sir?" Luc stammered weakly.

"We both know how good you are at following orders, Luc," M. Leclair said in a soft but threat-filled, insinuating voice. "Don't fail at that very valuable skill, now."

Luc reached up and grabbed M. Leclair's cock with one hand, brought his mouth to it, and very assiduously licked it clean. Juliette stared, wide-eyed, still recovering her breath. She felt that she'd passed into a strange planet that bore little resemblance to the world on which she'd awoken that morning.

"Passable, I suppose," M. Leclair said, and turned away from them. He pulled his slacks back up and fastened them. "Please return to work. I don't pay the two of you to lounge about the greenhouse in states of undress." He buttoned his shirt.

Juliette stood on shaking legs, feeling Luc's cock flop out of her pussy, and the fall of her juices mixed with his seed beginning to seep from her. The skin of her back ached and burned.

"Will... will you still require me at the usual time in the morning, sir?" she asked.

He kept his back to them. "Of course," he said. "Don't attempt to shirk your duties on the flimsiest of pretexts." He pushed his belt through the loops of his pants and buckled it. "Return to work."

"Yes sir," she said.

She threaded one sneaker through her panties and pulled them up, giving a sharp intake of breath when they came all the way up - she was bruised. She retrieved her uniform from the rosemary bush, releasing a piney fragrance, and pulled it on over her head.

Luc lay still on the bench. He refused to look at her. She left the greenhouse without a word.

As she marched up to the house, she was thinking about what he'd said about Luc being good at following orders - what did it mean? What power over Luc did M. Leclair have?

Her more immediate concern was to find a washroom and put herself back together. She realized without seeing a mirror that she looked frightful. There was a washroom just beside the kitchen.

She entered the kitchen by the back door. Mariela paused in her work and turned to face Juliette, a shocked expression on her face. Yes, I definitely look frightful, Julietted thought.

She realized at that moment that she'd completely forgotten the basil and tarragon.