Sydney's Dogs Ch. 05

"And if...hypothetically...someone went to the police or media?"

"Talon, Brandt and I would be collected and euthanized, and you and Brenna would lose everything—jobs, money, property, reputation...even your lives if you persisted in trying to expose the PPA," he replied softly.

"Holey licorice Labradors," Sydney whispered, one hand going to her forehead as she visibly swayed with shock. "Has this ever happened before?"

"Not for the last 25 years," he tried to reassure her. "But it would be better if you didn't test them."

"I know Brenna won't say anything...and I don't think Ty knows the specifics of our situation...so I think we'll be ok," she quickly reasoned. "Do they follow people like me? Tap phones? Track by satellite?"

"I don't know," Zaide said honestly, setting down the knife. "I imagine they would for a time, but there's no point in invading privacy and risking offence; all their clients are wealthy and powerful people."

"Gah—this whole thing just gets stickier and stickier. I wish I knew who had referred me to them—I'd ring their neck!" she cried, frustrated.

Zaide shrugged. "Do you regret bringing us home, then?"

Sydney looked up and saw how tense he was, and no wonder—they were talking about his hypothetical death. With two long strides, she was at his side. She wrapped her arms around his muscular torso and rested her head on his chest.

"No. I'll never regret it," she told him firmly. "And I won't let anyone hurt you—ever!"

Zaide returned the hug and she could feel some of the tension drain away. After a moment, they stepped apart and he went back to work.

"So, what exactly is for dinner?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Beer brazed chicken with roasted vegetable and rice pilaf," he replied with his familiar smile.

"Much better than beans and bacon!" she cheered.

"And now the laundry is going," Talon said as he came into the kitchen. "It seems our arrival was perfectly timed."

"I think your right," Sydney agreed, smiling at the tall, dark, and hansom man.

"So dinner will be ready in an hour..." he started, giving her a wicked look.

"Oh, no!" she cried. "No way. Not now, definitely not right here. I don't care what passive-seductive methodology you use, you ain't gettin' nothin'!"

"Ty was thoughtful to arrange all the men in the larger guest room downstairs and put you in a smaller guest room upstairs," Zaide added teasingly. He knew his co-attendant was chaffing to feel Sydney's lash again. In all honesty, Zaide also wanted to service her. She was just so darn sexy. Back at the agency, he had been prepared for a shallow and ugly owner, and somehow he'd ended up with her. He had only spent five days in her service, but he never wanted to stop showing his appreciation.

"Good!" Sydney declared. "You guys need to let your cannons cool or they'll melt!"

"Mine is already burning for you," Talon whispered behind her. "You know I crave you, Mistress."

Sydney whirled around to glare. "Nothin-doin'! We're guests here, and our hosts may be exhausted, but I'm pretty sure they'll notice belts cracking and tormented screams coming from my room. I'm already in trouble with Brenna—you're not making it worse!"

Talon looked down, duly chastised.

"What is it with you guys, anyway?" she continued. "Why are both of you so insatiably horny? I mean, I've met horny guys before—but you two are insane!"

"Isn't this the way most men feel with their first woman?" Zaide replied, his tone innocent and conversational, as he slid the sliced vegetables into the frying pan.

"Wait—first? I'm your—no way. You're leading me on," she cried.

"No attendant has previous sexual experience—even fraternization between attendants within the agency is strictly forbidden," Talon explained. "We are trained intellectually, athletically, and technically with toys, but you are the one and only person we've truly been intimate with."

Sydney was speechless. First she found out they were all younger than her, and now she discovered that before her they were cherries! A wave of confusion and shame and guilt swept over her. To be a sex slave, forced to give your virginity away—it wasn't so stigmatized for men as it was for women, but still—no wonder they were desperate to please her! It was slightly sickening to think of how the PPA had set them up to be totally owned and how willingly she had lapped up the offered male flesh. She must truly be a selfish and horrible person.

"Miss Sydney, are you alright?" Zaide asked, pausing in his dinner preparations to watch her, concern in his eyes.

"I'm...fine," she lied softly. "I just need some time to process all this. Talon, stay and help Zaide with dinner. I'll be on the porch."

She left them standing in the kitchen and almost ran outside. She felt close to tears. Before, she had assumed that they had both slept with many women to become such amazing lovers, but then she remembered Anne's comments about "used goods." The PPA doesn't sell used goods. Used goods were dead goods.

Before she realized what she was doing, she was at the truck, yanking open the door, jamming the key in the ignition and turning around in the driveway. She didn't know where she was going, but she needed distance from them. They were overwhelming her.

It's your own damn fault for buying them in the first place, a snide little voice inside her head chided. And then you wanted to know about their training. What did you expect sex slaves to be like?

Not like them.

Tears were blurring her vision and she pulled off to one side of the long gravel driveway. She didn't even know why she was crying, except that she hated herself at that moment. She must have inherited more from her father than his money. She must have some sociopathic genes or maybe just the blinding narcissistic streak. She should send them away; get them out of the country—something. Maybe if she put them in high-profile jobs in her company, that way she could say they were still attending, still in her service...only not. The PPA only said she would be responsible for them until they died, not that she had to keep them under lock and key until they died.

And Brenna would know something was wrong—AGAIN! Sydney just couldn't seem to get this family thing right. She was better off alone, not hurting anyone. Sure it was miserable, but it couldn't be as miserable as watching the men's faces light up whenever she came in a room, knowing she had carelessly deflowered them, beaten Talon—taken two cocks at a time! She was a kinky, perverted, slutty freak. She screamed at the steering wheel, a wordless expression of rage and grief and frustration. She didn't deserve family. She didn't deserve anyone!

So...time to plan...how did she get rid of them without endangering them? Maybe if she went on vacation to some small, out of the way tropical island and bought it—she had the money—then she could leave the boys in charge of her assets there. They'd be happy, they'd have their pick of the tourists, Lucy would have ample room to run, and Sydney could go back to her regular life.

That was it. That was the only way to do it. But when? Brenna expected her to stay for a week at least—and there was no way Sydney could resist those two for that long. She knew that already. Maybe she could leave them on the ranch. Ty could certainly use the help and he wouldn't have to pay them. Sydney could just keep driving and not look back.

Except that she couldn't do it. Brenna really would hate her for that. She wouldn't even let Sydney explain. This whole thing was a mess.

Someone tapped on the passenger side window. She looked up, expecting Talon or Zaide to have followed her, and instead saw Brandt's worried face. Fresh tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she tried to wave him away. He looked uncertainly over his shoulder, and then in a burst of courage opened the cab door and slid into the passenger's seat.

"Go away," she croaked, trying not to openly sob.

"Please, Miss Sydney," Brandt pleaded. "What can I do?"

"Nothing," she stated flatly, staring directly at the steering wheel. "No one can do anything."

"I know I'm not good at much," he said, and she could hear in his voice how difficult it was to stand up to her emotional display. "But there has to be something—some tiny thing I can do to help. Please, Miss Sydney. I—I need to help you."

She gave a shuddering sigh. "Brandt, you are probably the only redeeming factor in this whole bloody mess. If it wasn't for you, I'd really feel like a self-serving bitch."

He just stared at her, his deep blue eyes dark with concern.

She sighed again. "I'm in way over my head. I'm not slave-owner material, not by a long shot! I can hardly take care of myself and I have you three to look after. I'm scared to death that I'm going to do something wrong and the PPA will take you away and I'll have to live the rest of my miserable life knowing that I destroyed you."

"You haven't destroyed anyone," Brandt protested. "You saved me. I'd be dead, right now, if it wasn't for you. I would never have seen Colorado or tasted chocolate or touched a cow. Lucy would still be in the shelter. I know that the lady at the PPA tried to convince you not to take me home—she said I'd hurt you or run away."

"You did," Sydney whispered.

Brant winced. "I know. But I promised never to do it again—and I won't. You've given me so much to live for that all I want to do is spend the rest of my life making you happy."

"Can't you think of something better to do with your life?" she demanded roughly.

He looked down, unsure and a little afraid. Then he looked up and met her eyes. With unshakeable conviction, he answered, "No."

Without thinking, Sydney threw her arms around him and started to sob. She still wasn't sure why she was crying, except that this broken child was turning into a young man, and for all the pain and cruelty he had seen in his short life, he still found something redeemable in her. He really was her saving grace.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. It was the first time he had held a woman and it felt good and warm. Of course, that might be the tears she was wiping on his shoulder, but he didn't mind. He held her until the crying subsided and she finally drew back.

"Sorry," she muttered, scrubbing her face. "I don't know what came over me."

"You just needed a hug," he said with a shrug and a small smile.

"I guess I did," she smiled back.

"Let's get back—dinner will be ready soon," he suggested.

"Where's Lucy?"

"Ty took her back up to the house for me. We saw the truck and he told me to see what the matter was," he explained.

"Ok, let's get going then," she agreed and started the truck. They drove back in silence, but things felt...better.

Back at the house, Talon and Zaide were on the porch, looking worried. Sydney took a deep, fortifying breath before getting out of the truck. As soon as the cab door closed, the two men were at her side.

"Miss Sydney, are you alright?" Zaide asked.

"If it was something we said..." Talon started, looking worried. She got the impression that he would have dropped to his knees in penance if they were alone.

"Guys, I'm fine. I just had a moment of weakness. Brandt took care of me," she explained. Both men glanced disbelieving at the redhead who was exiting the other side of the truck. Brandt smiled sheepishly. "Now," Sydney continued, "Isn't it just about dinner time?"

All four of them filed back into the house. Brenna and Ty were just coming down the stairs. Brenna saw Sydney's red eyes and gave her a warning look—if something was wrong, she expected to hear every detail. Sydney just smiled.

At the dinner table, Benna set up a baby monitor while Zaide served everyone.

"This smells delicious!" Ty exclaimed.

"Thanks, I hope you like it," Zaide replied.

A hush descended on the diners as everyone took their first bite, and then proceeded to shovel the rest of the food in their mouths.

"You know it's good food," Brenna commented while using a slice of zucchini to mop up the last grains of rice, "when everyone is too busy eating to compliment you."

"One of my favorite sounds is chewing in silence," Zaide said with a nod of thanks.

"Can we keep him?" Ty asked.

Sydney looked over at her bald, buff lover. "Nah. He's all mine."

Zaide beamed.

"So Zaide, when did you get that tattoo?" Brenna asked casually.

Zaide looked over at his left arm and the tribal tattoo that circled the bicep. "Oh, that. That was from my senior prom."

"Really? Tell me the story," Brenna probed.

"Well, my date, I'll call her Alison for the sake of the story, was the daughter of a really, really wealthy business tycoon. Alison wanted someone who would make all the other boys jealous and her father wanted someone safe around his daughter. I was working at a body guard service at the time, and so I was assigned to be Alison's escort for the night. She had fought with her father earlier that day about something—credit card limits, I think—and so she was feeling extra rebellious that night. She wanted to go get a tattoo herself, something big and gaudy that her father would hate. When we got to the tattoo parlor, she started getting a little nervous and to calm herself, she took a few quick swigs from a purloined hip flask. I knew this was a disaster in the making—her father would literally murder me if she came home tattooed and would probably strangle me for letting her drink underage. So I convinced her to watch me get a tattoo first, and then she could decide if it was worth it to get one herself. I sat down in the chair and went under the gun, so to speak. I made a point of complaining loud and long about how much it hurt—but I didn't really need to since at the first sight of blood, she almost passed out. After my tattoo was finished, I carried her back to the limo and got her home. Her father noticed my new tattoo and grilled me on what happened, and was very thankful that I had prevented her from being permanently marked. He actually gave me a very nice tip for that. Plus I'd gotten the tattoo for free. My boss wasn't too thrilled—there would be workers comp and insurance issues if my arm got infected—but it all worked out in the end."

"Wow, that's so cool," Brenna praised.

Sydney wasn't sure what to think. Was it a cover story or was part of it true? She decided to ask him later in private.

Talon stood and started clearing the plates. "I'll do the dishes if everyone else wants to watch TV in the living room," he offered.

"What service!" Brenna cried with an appreciative smile.

"Thank you, Talon," Sydney seconded.

Ty checked his watch. "Nothing on TV at this hour, but we could watch a movie. I just got a new one last week, and we've been too busy with the baby to watch it."

"Sounds good to me," Sydney said.

"Me too," Brenna agreed.

"I'm game," Zaide smiled.

Brandt nodded.

The five of them left the dinner table, Brenna grabbed the baby monitor as she passed, and went into the living room. Ty set up the movie and then flopped on the couch to cuddle with his wife. Sydney curled into Zaide, enjoying his solid bulk. Brandt took Sydney's other side, but didn't touch her. Lucy was at his feet.

The movie started and after 10 minutes, Sydney started drifting off to sleep. She tried to stay awake, but she was jet-lagged and the crying had only tapped the last of her reserve strength. It felt so good to be nestled against Zaide—although anyone probably would have felt just as good, said that evil voice in her head. She did her best to ignore it as she fell into a light doze.

Talon came from the kitchen and wedged himself between Sydney and Brandt. He noticed that Sydney and Brenna were both asleep. The men-folk watched the movie with the volume low so as not to disturb the women. It took something away from the car chases and explosions, but no one seemed to mind. When it was over, Ty gently scooped Brenna into his arms and, with a nod goodnight to the other men, carried her up the stairs to the bed.

Talon, Zaide and Brandt were left down stairs. They all exchanged a look.

Finally Talon said, "Brandt, why don't you take your stuff up to Miss Sydney's room and bring her luggage down so she can sleep here tonight."

"Why?" Brandt challenged. "Haven't you worn her out enough?"

Talon gave him a warning look, but to his surprise, Brandt didn't flinch.

"She sleeps better with someone next to her," Zaide interceded. The mountain air must be swelling Brandt's balls to challenge Talon over Miss Sydney. "Besides, the down-stairs guest room has a king-sized bed, and the upstairs bedroom has a full-sized bed. So unless you're volunteering to sleep between us for the night, you might want to take the smaller bed."

Brandt blushed and hurried out of the room.

"Well, that was sly," Talon commented.

"If you two started to fight, Lucy would probably bite you, and that would wake up Miss Sydney," Zaide explained. Then he gathered Sydney into his arms and stood. She was still so thin that he imagined he might be carrying a sylph—an air sprite—instead of a full grown woman.

Brandt came out of the hallway with his suitcase and tiptoed upstairs. Lucy followed him, very light-pawed for such a large dog. Zaide carried Miss Sydney into the guest room. Talon preceded them and turned down the covers so Zaide could lay her close to the center. The cool sheets woke her.

"Hey, is the movie over?" she said with a yawn.

"Yes, butterfly. We're just getting you ready for bed," Zaide explained.

"But this isn't my room," she protested. "I thought I got the smaller room all to myself."

"We gave that to Brandt since he didn't want to share the bed with us," Talon explained.

"Uh huh, I'll bet," she grumbled and pushed herself up.

Just then Brandt poked his head in the room and set Sydney's suitcase and purse down by the door. With a wave he backed out.

"Come on you guys," she pleaded. "Give a girl a break."

"Anything you say, Miss Sydney," Zaide agreed somberly. Talon nodded.

She looked at them suspiciously. Then she just rolled her eyes and started to quickly undress. She shucked her jeans and t-shirt. She also discarded her bra and pulled the hairband out of her hair, letting the pony-tail fall apart, her hair cascading over her shoulders, the ends curling just above her full breasts. Both men held their breath—she looked so sexy with her slumberous eyes and tousled hair. "What?" she demanded. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Not yet," Zaide murmured.

Sydney threw him a squinty smile at his crass implication. Then she grabbed the covers and pulled them over her, turning her back on the men. They quickly undressed as well and slipped under the covers, one on either side. Their arms reached out under the covers to embrace her between them. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the two erections pressing into her thigh. Every erotic memory they shared just played behind her eyelids until she wanted them as much as they wanted her. She sighed and rolled onto her back.

Talon and Zaide looked at her, a little concerned and ready to do anything to make her happy.

"Fine," she said aloud. She reached for both of their hands and guided them to her wet core. They didn't need further encouragement. Their greedy fingers plunged under her panties and between her folds to make her gasp with the invasion. They played with her, stroking inside and out, taking turns toying with her nib. Each man took the closest nipple into his mouth, suckling and nibbling.

Sydney squirmed in pleasure under their onslaught. The pleasure was mind-numbing and delicious, better than any dessert. They seemed content to play with her all night long, but she could feel their throbbing hard members pushing into her, and just the thought of being impaled on one of them made her salivate. Finally, she found the willpower to push their hands away. She struggled for a moment to get out of her panties and throw them across the room. Then she sat up.