Welcome to Part 3 of The Test. If you missed either of the first two parts, you'll find them in our archives. But to get you started, here's where we left off last time:

"And when Brian looked at her, it was like her pussy could feel his stare, as if his mind sent out little fingers that pattered between the protective lips and brushed the sensitive flesh. Maybe because his inspection was so cool, so detached, yet so prying like a callous doctor, Seal could feel herself creaming, one small drop at a time.

Wiley let loose the next flogger stroke and it made a whistle in the air.

[To be continued...]"

Part 3

Brian, the Newboy, took the pain through his hands into his body, snapping forward at the waist and hugging his elbows to his sides. He made sure that his hands did not move. Seal knew right then that Newboy really wanted to be part of their clan. That he felt the same respect she felt for Wiley. A wave of new pride came over Seal as she focused on being a flower, the lotus that Wiley had asked her to be. She imagined that the wet of her pussy was the flower's fragrance, that the pink flush of her vulva and the rich brown of her nipples were its petals. She was surprised to realize that she now wanted both to please Wiley and to make the Newboy hard and really frustrated.

Two, three... little knobs on the red whipping thongs made spitting sounds when they hit Brian's skin... four, five, he took them, probably sucking them deep into himself, and managed to keep his reactions out of his hands. His breathing went bumpy, shuddery.

As Seal admired him, her hole dripped. And now she wasn't sure why she was getting so wet. Was it his gaze on her revealed pussy, his humiliation, the nobility with which he took Wiley's pain, some kind of submissive solidarity? Seal did not have a whole lot of experience with desiring men, and so her feelings towards Brian were unfamiliar to her.

Seal struggled to manage the growing heat of the candle holder on her tummy as Wiley took a deep breath and unleashed on Newboy again. Six. He jumped; his head cringed into his shoulders, but he lifted his elbows higher to compensate. Though his hands shook, they remained where Wiley had ordered them. Wiley wound up for the final stroke, and as she twisted back around, she snapped the flail across his palms with a great deal of malicious force; it had a quick backlash that put the actual count to eleven, and it was enough to make him release an airy cry. Seal could see the Newboy's stomach clutch and the shape of his abs sharpen. He shivered a little after the final stroke. Wiley looked pleased.

"Do you know your place, now, Brian?" Wiley asked him coldly.

"Yes Ma'am," he whispered.

"And you understand that when you're late for me, you get punished?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Don't be late for me again."

"I won't. Sorry."

"Now take off your shirt."

Seal watched Brian as he tried to keep the sore skin of his palms from creasing; he used only two fingers to undo his buttons, and awkwardly at that. Seal knew the soreness he suffered from his brittle movements and her own past experience. As his shirt opened, Seal watched the visible patch of Brian's smooth bronze chest expand. That he was taking so long annoyed Wiley.

She slapped Brian's fingers away from his buttons and he winced.

"Never mind," she said. "Seal, I'm going to have you take off the new boy's shirt."

Seal felt a little rush.

"But first, another test." Wiley turned to Brian. "You see that candle on Seal's tummy?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, I want you to remove it from her."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Using the palms of your hands."

Brian cast her a strange look.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You know that if you're clumsy, or if you let your mind dwell on the pain in your hands, you run the risk of burning or scalding her."

"Yes ma'am."

"Are you up to the task?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Don't say 'yes' if you can't handle it," Wiley growled. "Because if you hurt my lotus flower--"

"I promise you..." He caught himself, but Seal thought Wiley might still slap him for interrupting her. When she didn't, he finished, "I won't let her get hurt."

"Crawl over there on your knees. You're too tall to stand."

And the tall newboy crawled awkwardly on his knees until he was beside Seal sitting back on his heels.

"Feel her skin first," Wiley said.

When the Newboy ran his soft fingertips along her belly and around her belly button, Seal got goose bumps. Nipples drew up from her breasts and pitted.

"You move smoothly," Wiley said to Newboy. "I like that. Now I want to watch you touch her breasts."

His touch was like a dusting of powder. He circled her breasts and fingered her nipples lightly.

"And now her pussy," Wiley added.

He dragged his fingers down her body to her small cropped bush, fingering the short hair so it tickled, stroking over the mound softly and down to the wet flesh. He did this several times as if he were absently patting the head of a dog.

Wiley didn't speak. But Seal thought she seemed pleased. Meanwhile, Seal was surprised to find that her thoughts weren't on Wiley alone. She was a bit ashamed of herself in admitting that when Newboy's fingers passed lightly over her bush, she couldn't wait for them to continue on down and stroke inside her pussy. She had to fight to keep from worming her cunt up to meet his fingers.

"What do you think of my lotus flower, Newboy?" Wiley asked him.

"She's very beautiful," he answered. His fingers rolled so lightly down the crack of her pussy that Seal could feel the hunger in her vagina. She leaked again, another drop of fragrance. On his next stroke down her pussy, her wet caught on his fingertips. There, between her lower labia, just outside her hole, his fingers lingered to stroke her, affectionate, collecting her juice. The nerve endings in her clitoris churned. Wiley had not caught it, how he lingered there. It was their secret.

"Now," Wiley said, "I want you to take the candleholder between your hands, not your fingers, lift it off her belly and set it gently on the floor by my feet."

"Yes, Ma'am."

He bowed over Seal, touched the canister briefly, assessing the heat. He recoiled.

"Back out now if you think you might hurt my flower," Wiley threatened. "Then I'll have some wax play instead."

"I won't hurt her," he repeated.

Newboy clasped the tin candleholder tightly in his hands, his eyes closed, his breathing tremulous. As he lifted it slowly, he snapped forward once, twice. It burned him. His hands trembled, and tears rolled from his eyes. The wax liquid rocked back and forth, back and forth towards the lip of the canister.

[To be continued...]