It was new, being conscious of where he was, wanting to be sure everything she did was at an angle where he could see her actions and be stimulated by them.

Leila watched her, her mouth stretched and still over Roland’s stiff cock. His flat stomach moved erratically above her forehead, reflecting how stimulated he was. There was power in this moment as well. While not objecting to it, if Leila had her druthers Marguerite suspected she would prefer not to have Marguerite bringing her to orgasm.

Marguerite respected her and what she had done for Tyler. But this moment wasn’t about civility. Tyler was hers now.

She’d selected a vibrating plug as well as a standard vibrator from Tyler’s well-stocked toy room. Even then she’d been very conscious of the way he watched her. As she’d picked up the different ones, run her fingers along the smooth flared heads to gauge the width of the base she wanted and chosen an oil lubricant that had an exotic scent like sex, his attention had been as tactile as his caresses.

Leila’s eyes shifted as she set both aside. Marguerite reached forward, laid one hand on the small of Roland’s back, the upper curve of his muscular buttock. “How are you, Roland?”

“Ready to serve you, Mistress.” His voice was hoarse.

“She sucked your cock well for me, didn’t she?”

“Christ, yes. Mistress,” he added hastily.

Laying her hand on Leila’s breast, she cupped it, rubbed the nipple, her gaze going to its fullness, its perfection. “I’m going to make her come. You won’t come, though.

That will be your gift to me, when I allow it. You will listen to her come, feel her hot breath panting against the head of your cock, feel the back of her throat tremble against you when she lets go, the scrape of her teeth as she fights not to bite down and you will wait. Wait until I’m ready for you to explode at my command.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“Good.” Leila’s body was lifting to her touch, her back curving as Marguerite skillfully pinched the nipple, squeezed the hard tip. At the same time, her fingers curled around Roland’s left buttock, nails tickling the fine hairs in the crease. Watching the muscles ripple along his back, bunched and restrained, trying not to upset the flower arrangement, was as much of a pleasure as seeing Leila’s hips press down and then lift up, an involuntary plea to be touched between her legs.

“God, but you do have beautiful tits.” Marguerite used the crude male word, her voice sensual and soft. “I remember one night when Tyler made you slip off the straps of your top and sit bare-breasted in the booth next to him, allowing all the Masters and Mistresses walking by the opportunity to enjoy looking at them. He made you cup them in your hands, play with the nipples until you were arched back in the booth, gasping.

At long last he put his hand beneath the table and just a moment later you came.

Moaning, unable to stop your cries, orgasm and embarrassment both coloring your fair skin. You’d been apprehensive about submitting to a Master’s desire to exhibit you publicly for His pleasure, and he was quite ruthlessly helping you get past that fear.

Helping you discover the heightened pleasure of having others watch you submit to him.

“I won’t ask you if you want me to touch your pussy, Leila.” She dug her nails into the plump curve, just a little, to heighten sensation. “Because I want to do so and this isn’t about your choice. It is mine and Master Joseph’s. He wants to see a woman’s hand on his slave’s cunt, bringing her gushing forth.”

Leila’s throat worked on a swallow of desperate arousal. Roland made a noise of equal need at the involuntary pressure. Walking her fingers down Leila’s stomach, Marguerite caressed her navel piercing, tugged on it and earned another writhing of pleasure from the woman. When she moved down to stroke her mound, she parted two fingers so they bypassed the clit and followed the labia, played around the opening, catching in the piercing there as Leila’s legs jerked.

Joseph extended his long legs and planted his feet inside of her knees, his dress shoes nudging, pushing her open even wider, holding her as Marguerite worked the wetness, dipped there, drew through it, using her nails on the sensitive outer edges here as well. Another strangled sound of desire caught her attention and she deliberately stilled her touch to watch, teasing Leila.

Violet was stroking Mac’s cock with stronger intent, forefinger and thumb tight on him, moving up and down the velvety rock-hard shaft as the powerful upper body strained, arched. He obviously could have reduced the lounger to matchsticks, but it was his Mistress’s bonds that held him. His jaw was held tight, his eyes riveted on Marguerite and Leila, as Violet commanded.

“Don’t take your eyes from them, Mackenzie. Feel my soaked pussy against your stomach, know you’ll come in front of them all to earn the right to fuck it.” And then there was Tyler. Marguerite turned her head for just a moment and found he was now leaned forward on his lounger, a foot on either side of the footrest, his fingers loosely dangled between his knees. The sunglasses hid his eyes, but his very posture suggested she had his full attention. At her regard, he removed the glasses, let her see the warm gold color that coated her in his heat, reminding her of that night he had referenced earlier, when the heat of his come had coated her back, his pleasure her only garment. “Make her come for me, angel,” he murmured. “Make her come for all of us.”

Her own cunt tightened like a fist around a hard shudder of response. It was the first command he’d given her, Master to Mistress. Despite his stated intention not to command her as Mistress, he was pure Master, after all. The shudder was so strong her knees trembled and she had to take one to the ground. He saw it all, his eyes coursing down, lingering on her breasts and her ass in a way that made no attempt to disguise his pure lust for her. To take her, to have her. Everything in his expression made it clear that no matter what began the evening’s entertainment or what happened during, it would end with him buried to the hilt in her. She could imagine him thrusting into her in his big bed, her body pushed deep into the mattress, sinking beneath his while everything inside her rose up to meet him, give him her response, her screams. She’d never been a screamer until she met Tyler. Never made more than a gasp of sound when she had an orgasm. He pulled it all from deep within her, let her speak her pleasure and pain where always before it had been expressed in frustrated silence. As he had brought forth her cries of pleasure, so she offered Leila’s to him now.

Looking back down, she moved her touch directly over Leila’s clit, snugged her knuckles down on either side of it and began to manipulate it in slow motions, working the piercing even as she allowed her thumb to continue to play in the opening, rub the lips. Leila’s mouth had opened wide, her body surging up, which put Roland’s cock deeper into her, her breaths coming more harshly. Marguerite could see her tongue flicking against the underside of his cock, not intentionally or with any rhythm, just as a function of her gasping breaths. Marguerite lifted her other hand from Roland’s ass, picked up the anal plug and switched hands on Leila to deftly insert the thick plug into her soaked pussy. Leila bucked, moaning. Now Joseph let out a low growl of appreciation. Marguerite flicked her attention over him briefly to see him nicely prominent against his slacks. She was sure Leila would be on her knees sucking that cock before the night was over. He’d build her up again in no time, then lay her over the bed and fuck her from behind while she bit down on the bedcovers, crying out her need. The glitter of his eyes, the way his eyes lingered on her movements, told Marguerite he was the kind of Dominant that enjoyed it most that way. That sense of total control, the helpless pleasure of his sub being on her knees or taken from behind, completely at his mercy. She felt the sexual Latino energy pouring off him and imagined him crooning to her in his native language. Urging her to suck him with her mouth, draw him deeper into her pussy, take all of him as Marguerite had taken Tyler in the kitchen on her knees. Holding on to his thighs, savoring every drop of him, wishing he could be buried in all of her empty spaces at once.

She thrust in and out as Leila’s muscles clamped on the plug, stroking it.

Marguerite slid it from her on a downward stroke, replaced it smoothly with two of her fingers. Plunged deep into her, deeper than the plug could go, watching her angle so her nails would not cause the woman any discomfort. There was a delicate art to it, one that took practice, particularly with an aroused body. Leila gasped in pleasurable shock at the invasion. Marguerite ruthlessly brought her thumb back into play on her clit.

“You’re going to come for me, Leila,” she said low, an inexorable demand. “Make these men’s cocks so hard, all of them thinking about fucking you, using you, making you come again and again.”

Roland was twitching, unable to stop his movements against Leila since she could not stop the inadvertent stimulation of her mouth on him. Taking the now well-lubricated plug, Marguerite pushed it against his ass.

It sunk into him, into an ass conditioned to take a Mistress’s Will. There were many advantages to a seasoned slave. Not that she didn’t intend to break in a virgin sub eventually, for Tyler had opened her eyes to the potential pleasure. In fact, he’d made her wonder since then what it would have been like to have been Brendan’s first.

However, she had a deep appreciation for the Mistress who trained a sub so well for the pleasure of her successors. Or Master, she thought, thinking of the great pleasure the woman beneath her hand was offering to them all, a result of Tyler’s tutelage.

Leila’s insides were slick and hot and Marguerite liked the feel of the pussy lips, the hardness of her mound pushing insistently against her knuckles.

“Oh, Jesus…” Roland’s guttural growl, indicating that he was near breaking, was music to her as she felt Leila’s pussy rippling, rippling… “Mistress—”

“Now, both of you.” Marguerite’s voice was strong and sure, commanding. “Come for us. Roland, pour yourself into Leila’s mouth. And you.” She rubbed the clit in circles, fast now, ruthless. “Let me feel that sweet pussy clamp down on a woman’s fingers. Come, both of you.”