Mirror of My Soul Page 34



Marguerite reflected that it felt odd to be here as Mistress and slave both, primarily because it did not feel odd at all. Her mind was swirling with ideas already. Only this time, it was with the things she would do to bring Roland pleasure while Tyler watched. She imagined his eyes on her as she moved her hands over another man’s flesh, as her fingers closed over Roland’s even now thickening cock.


Tyler wrapped his hands in her hair, drew her head back to suckle her throat as she studied her gift. Reaching out to Roland, she drew him to her, desire sweeping her hard at the feel of one man possessing her while she sought to possess another herself.


Roland stepped closer, his green eyes respectful but avid. She could feel his desire to serve, to be commanded, emanating off him like heat.


She’d heard wives lament their husband’s inability to pick out just the right gift, even when signs and clues were practically mapped out in front of them. Tyler had known exactly what she most appreciated. The beautiful purity of Roland’s features, the eyes that had that seeking quality, the quality a Mistress cherished. While she could tell this man did not have as many personal demons as the type of submissive she usually chose, the very fact he seemed more balanced complemented the social tone of this weekend. As always, Tyler had chosen thoughtfully.


When Tyler released her, she remained very cognizant of his whereabouts as he withdrew to take a seat in one of the pool side chairs, his hands on the arms, long legs stretched out before him. She ran a hand down Roland’s chest and his eyes lowered, acknowledging her acceptance, submitting to her authority. She felt the surge of power and stillness at once, a drug she always harvested for such interactions, but now there was a new ingredient, one that made heat climb up inside her and set her imagination on fire.


“Roland, the first thing I want to do is take my afternoon tea. You will be my table.


Do you understand?”


“Yes, Mistress. It would be my honor.”


“I’m not very graceful. I may spill a drop or two, here or there.” She moved around him, trailing her fingertips along his back, down to the upper curve of his buttocks. And wondrous buttocks they were. “Can you be still and not upset my cup? I’d like to use my fine china, but if I must I will use a plastic set.”


“I’ll not move a muscle, Mistress,” he promised.


“Oh, I’d like to see your muscles move. I’d like them to hold a plug while I take my tea. Vibrate deep inside you, massage you until you’re fit to burst. Can you come without upsetting my tea?”


“I won’t come.” He smiled, confident, but his eyes were shifting, thinking. Not as certain. “Unless Mistress commands it.”


“We’ll see about that.”


As she circled Roland, she examined her immediate surroundings. There was a comfortable wicker arrangement near the pool, wingback seats with deep cushions, a style of chair where it would be comfortable to perch, ladylike, while she enjoyed tea on her “table”. She suspected that the chairs were for Tyler’s female guests, while the nearby loungers would attract the more sprawling nature of the males. With his propensity and preference for being outside near his gardens, she could well imagine him there, one long leg braced on the ground on either side of the lounger as he studied a script or did paperwork.


She remembered then that there were three others in the pool and got the second shock of the evening when she turned to make the appropriate courtesies. Violet was sitting on the edge of the pool, Mac still in the water, his arms crossed and propped on the edge. Her foot and calf rested on his shoulder as they watched the goings-on.


The other person in the pool was Leila.


The surge of emotion she felt at the sight of her, naked like Roland as befitted a submissive’s status, gave her an answer to Tyler’s earlier question. She could feel jealousy. Why on earth was she here? Certainly he wasn’t going to entertain himself with Leila while she exercised her Mistress craving on Roland. While she recognized it logically as a double standard, emotionally it wasn’t. Tyler was acting as her Master, facilitating her interaction with Roland, a submissive. Roland was like the other subs she’d taken. Two hours of play, no commitment beyond that. Tyler and Leila had a history, a genuine bond of affection based in sex and shared experiences. And as Leila came out of the end of the pool to take a seat near Violet, Marguerite further observed that no woman should be that well-endowed.


Did that mean he preferred women with bigger breasts? Come to think of it, many of the women he’d chosen as submissives had been blessed in that regard.


Stop it. She was appalled at herself and gathered her dignity up with both hands.


She wasn’t like any of the women he’d chosen in the past. Any more than he was like the men she’d chosen. But they’d chosen each other.


Marguerite forced her attention back to Roland. “Move the center table to the side of the sofa,” she ordered. When he complied, his muscles shifted along his back, buttocks flexing as he turned.


“Now on all fours,” she said softly. “Where the table was.” He moved to obey, those same well-toned muscles rippling in his thighs and across his obliques as he knelt before her, then went to all fours. He surprised her by making an unexpected dip, brushing her foot with his lips.


“It is an honor to serve you, Mistress. Your reputation precedes you.” She moved to the sofa, bade him lift up and put a cushion under his knees and another under his hands, leveling the surface appropriately and giving him comfort for a prolonged position.


“I’m going to go change,” she said, caressing the back of one thigh. Reaching up, she fondled the free-hanging testicles, easing a hand between his buttocks and earning a slight shift, a further hardening of his cock. “And I’ll find the appropriate plug to keep you struggling not to come while I take my tea. While I’m gone, I want you to practice holding my table steady.” She picked up a flower basket arrangement from the side table and put it in the center of his back. Watched him get still, focused.


She moved her attention to Tyler, decided to grab the awkward bull by the horns.


“May I make use of your slave, Master Tyler?”


Tyler looked startled. The sound of footsteps approaching made Marguerite look away from him to see a handsome man of Latino descent with dark eyes and sleek hair enter the pool area from the garden. When his attention went immediately to Leila, the woman lowered her gaze, cheeks pinkening at the attention.


“You think I’d…” Tyler shook his head, stopped what he’d been about to say, turned toward the other man. “Master Joseph, Mistress Marguerite would like to make use of your slave for her purposes. I believe she wants Leila to help Roland practice keeping her table steady under stimulation. Would you consent?” Marguerite remembered now that the dining room table was being set for seven, not six. The relief that flooded her chest was as surprisingly intense as the jealousy had been.


Before Joseph could respond, Tyler stepped up to her, drew her to him with his hand caressing her neck, immediately catching her attention, of course. His calf was pressed to Roland’s forearm, so there was no way he would miss their conversation.


“Marguerite.” Tyler brushed his lips over hers, her cheek, her ear, dwelled there.


“Despite the different twist that BDSM brings to our relationship, when I set my heart on someone I’m monogamous. And I damn well expect her to be as well.” He glanced down at Roland. “I know your heart, what you enjoy. And what you need. I’m not confused. And I don’t want you to be, either. For your sake. Or Roland’s well-being.” It was the arrogance that brought back her confidence. “I didn’t bring high enough heels for that level of testosterone.”


“Then strip off your clothes and you can swim in a vat of it.” He pressed his cheek to hers, whispered in her ear. “You remember the night I spilled my come all over your back and you begged me to leave it, to mark my claim on you?” Stepping back, she tossed her head with irritated petulance. He gave her a satisfied look, moving away. She decided she would try integrating the feelings he stirred up with her normal inspiration with a willing sub and see where it took her. There was an excitement low in her vitals roused by the unique situation, spurred by the changes that had happened over the past week. With a shock, she realized some part of her confidence came from the fact that she trusted Tyler to guide her, that she could do as she wished and he would set the boundaries, as a Master would. Boundaries that would likely only heighten the spiraling sense of arousal she felt with Roland’s breath on her calf, waiting. Waiting for her Will.


“Master Joseph.” She courteously nodded her head to him.


The man sketched her a bow in return, appraising her with a warm look. “It would be my pleasure for you to enjoy the talents of my Leila. Leila, please follow Mistress Marguerite’s direction as you would my own. You may advise her of your boundaries as necessary.”


Leila stepped to Marguerite’s side at her beckoning, keeping her eyes down as a sub would, but Marguerite could feel her tension.


She raised Leila’s chin so she would look at her. “You are very fortunate, Master Joseph,” she said. “And I thank you for the gift.” This was a woman who had brought light to Tyler’s life when he desperately needed it, who had offered him friendship and physical comfort. Though they’d released their claim on each other, Marguerite could not deny lingering jealousy. But at this moment, Mistress to sub, she was able to move beyond that and convey respect in her touch. Leila relaxed slightly, acknowledging it.


“Leila, while I go change and pick out some things I’ll need for my tea, I want you to lie on your back, here.” She guided Leila down to the floor, enabling her to slide her head between Roland’s spread legs until her head was propped on another small pillow under his lower abdomen, his stiff cock at a perfect angle to be taken by her lips. “I want you to take your pleasure.” Marguerite’s finger whispered down his back. “But you’re not allowed to come, Roland. No matter how long I take. If you think you’re going to lose control, you will tell her so she can ease off, but only until you regain control. Then she should start again.”

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