Roses and Chains (8 page)

rest.

And imagining it made her feel all wobbly again.

She wanted Mara. Wanted to taste her, wanted to be tasted by her again. Wanted

more than anything not to be blindfolded this time, so she could see what the other

woman was doing.

A persistent image had haunted her all afternoon, of going down on Mara while

Daniel did various lewd things to her from behind. It wouldn’t leave her. She had

needed to resist an almost constant urge to disappear into the restroom and ease the physical consequences of the image. But she knew she would enjoy herself more if she waited. The idea of having to wait, of needing to hold off until Daniel told her to come, only enhanced her mood.

And yet here were her two would-be lovers, talking in a language she could barely

recognize as English.

“Are you planning to go resto with that cleric? I haven’t played that class much in

this game yet, I usually do tanking,” Daniel said as he led them to the play room.

“Probably. My main is spell DPS, but the guild needs more resto so I’d probably get

to raid more that way. But I’ve just started leveling this so I haven’t really decided yet. I don’t know, I really need to study the talent trees a little more, read up on it.”

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“Cool. I’m still trying to get Delia to play.” This last as if he’d belatedly realized they were leaving her out of the conversation.

“Oh, you totally should,” Mara urged her. “You get to run around and whack

things or kill them dead with fireball spells, stuff like that. It’s very therapeutic. And of course, you can also gather flowers and mine for precious metals, if you just want to do that sort of thing. Make potions.”

They were already to the door of the Rose Room. Daniel ushered them in, and once

again they all three stopped on the threshold to take in the room.

It was still rosy and candlelit. It still sported the low, very useful couches and chest of goodies.

A very large, somewhat Victorian-looking device had been added close to one

corner, however, and that was what primarily drew the trio’s collective attention.

Gleaming, polished wood with delicate brass filigree inlay; a soft, rounded top of

distressed, saddle-colored leather. Matching wrist and ankle straps with shiny brass buckles.

“Is that a spanking horse?”

Delia nodded, and noticed that Mara did too.

“Yes, Master,” she added, when it looked as if Daniel hadn’t seen their nods

because his gaze was still transfixed on the horse.

At least it had taken his mind clean off the computer games.

“Giddy the fuck up!” Mara exclaimed, clapping her hands and bouncing on the

balls of her feet. Delia recognized the gesture, the same one she’d made when she saw the toy store. It was odd, like watching a bizarro version of herself.

“Tally-fucking-ho,” Daniel said in agreement. “I like it. I can work with that.” He

turned and observed them both, manic glee transforming his usually much more

impassive face. “Oh, I can most definitely work with that.”

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Delphine Dryden

Chapter Nine

Mara had almost made herself late trying to figure out what to wear. Somehow it

seemed much more important tonight, despite the fact that she suspected she would be taking all or most of it off pretty early into the evening.

She had decided on the red because it would expose more without her having to

take it off. And because the idea of removing her skirt and shrug, standing in front of Master Daniel and Delia in just the scrap of constraining red lace around her rib cage and waist, was enough to drive her to distraction most of the afternoon.

Although she hadn’t played too badly, despite being distracted. And it had been a

sweet surprise to find Master Daniel played the game too. They’d had so much fun that after a few minutes they’d forgotten to flirt in game chat, and had just gotten on with playing. Which, in Mara’s mind, had a certain sexy appeal all its own. She liked the way he planned and then implemented his plan, then tried again with the same calm

determination if the first effort didn’t pan out. Trying new things, experimenting,

communicating what he wanted very clearly. She thought if Delia had met him that

way, in the game, she might have had no trouble at all picturing her husband as a Dom from the start.

Mara wondered where they had met. What their history was, what their

expectations were.

Silly. It’s not like you’re dating them.

But she sort of wanted to, was the thing. Each of them.

Both of them.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Master Daniel was saying. He had moved to the

chest of drawers and was taking things out, laying them in readiness on the end of one couch. The tawse. A cane, pulled not from the drawer but from a tall vase full of them 60

Roses and Chains

standing just beside the chest like a big, kinky flower arrangement. Something else from his pocket, removed carefully from a zippered plastic bag and set to one side with a jar of lube. He had sniffed the jars cautiously before selecting one.

“He hates piña colada,” Delia explained in a near-whisper. Then the two women

shared a conspiratorial smile, and Mara was tempted to wink. She no longer thought

Delia resembled Amie quite so much. Her features were smaller, neater. She had the

same pouty upper lip, but the expression was completely different; hers fell into a

naturally sweet smile in repose, unlike Amie’s characteristic irritation-face.

“Dee!”

“Master?”

He was gesturing her over, and Mara felt a little abandoned as Delia left her to

confer with Daniel. Then she couldn’t help but smile at the thought she must feel

exactly as Delia had the previous night. Because the two of them were doing the same thing she and Master Daniel had, talking not quite softly enough to block out

everything—letting her hear just enough to tease. Something about the horse, and

tongues, and a sweet ass, all of which was enough to give Mara plenty of ideas.

“First things first,” Master Daniel said after he had shared all this with Delia and she had nodded with a look of barely suppressed excitement. He took a seat on the

couch, leaning back on his arms, getting comfortable like a guy does, with his legs spread apart. “Time for subs to undress each other. Leave the corsets and shoes on. Put on a good show and I might even let you both play with each other for real later.”

Delia looked almost shy as she wandered back toward Mara. It was a charming

look, completely inappropriate to the situation. Mara felt oddly moved. She was

inclined to forget about Master Daniel entirely and just focus on the beautiful woman she got to undress. But she knew it had to be both, it had to be that balance, for her and for Delia. Taking pleasure in each other but always mindful that the ultimate arbiter of pleasure was their Master.

Their Master.
Our
Master.

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Delphine Dryden

Mara knew a moment of sharp pain, gone almost as quickly as it started. He might

not be
their
Master, just Delia’s, but at least they were sharing tonight. She would make herself believe that was enough.

So she started with the little pearl buttons on Delia’s sleeveless, pink-silk blouse, and was pleased to discover it opened onto a corset not unlike her own. Only in white, which seemed to be Delia’s favorite color for kink garb. It should have washed her out, Mara thought, but somehow she had just enough golden undertone in her skin to make

it work.

The blouse was just for cover on the street, it hadn’t even been tucked in. It was

easily dispensed with, as was Mara’s own sweater, which Delia pushed off her

shoulders in one easy motion.

Then Mara gasped at the feel of Delia’s fingers tracing down from her shoulders,

over her collarbones, to the crests of her exposed breasts.

“Did I say you could get handsy?”

“No, Master. Sorry, Sir,” Delia said meekly and got to work on Mara’s skirt. But

Mara caught the little twinkle she sent her way, not quite a wink or a smirk but just a little something amused.

Delia had it relatively easy. Mara’s skirt was just tied on, and a single tug at the bow was all it took to release it. It swirled down and around her ankles, leaving her in her underbust and a matching thong, along with strappy black heels. She tried not to fidget, tried not to look nervous as Delia’s slim fingers traced the spaghetti straps over her hips and looked at Master Daniel for permission.

“The thong too, Sir?”

He nodded, but said nothing. He didn’t look particularly interested or impressed.

Mara thought he must be getting better at the control thing every day. And then she

didn’t think as those same cool, slender fingers tucked themselves under the straps of her panties and pulled them down her legs. One hand clasped her calf gently, coaxing that leg up. Then down and around, off the other leg, and the thong was gone.

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Nothing but a corset, heels and a whole lot of waxed skin. Mara’s favorite outfit.

With it came the feeling of delicious, naughty freedom. She was a wanton, and anybody looking at her in this hardly there ensemble would know instantly that she was a needy little slut. Which gave her permission, in her mind, to act like a needy little slut.

“Pretty,” murmured Delia, making a stroking gesture with her hands over Mara’s

ribs but not quite touching the lace. Mara felt the heat and thrill as clearly as if she had been touched, felt her nipples and clit start to swell in approval of the goings-on.

“Delia,” warned Master Daniel.

Delia snatched her hands behind her back and waited patiently while Mara

unfastened her jeans. It took both of them to peel the jeans off and they were giggling by the time the process was over, but at last Delia stood in her lingerie, which didn’t include a thong or other underwear of any sort. Just the underbust corset, which in her case came a bit lower on the hips than Mara’s and featured garters. Any good garter

deserves stockings, and she was also wearing those—very sheer, with lacy, white tops.

Shocking pink-silk stiletto pumps that Mara thought might be some crazy-expensive

designer brand.

“Snow White and Rose Red,” Daniel said again. He sat up and scrutinized them

both from head to toe and back again. “The story had a prince who’d been magically

transformed into a bear because a dwarf stole his treasure. The two girls ended up

killing the dwarf, the bear transformed back into a prince, and of course he ended up marrying one of the girls.”

“Snow White,” Mara said. “I looked it up too. Sorry, Master.”

“I’ll add it to your tab, sub. Let’s see, where was I? Oh right. So the story goes, he marries Snow White. Rose Red marries some brother the prince pulls up from

somewhere, that wasn’t in the story. And they all live happily ever after. But,” he said with a dramatic flourish, “I don’t buy that ending.”

He got up and walked to the bench as he continued, fussing with the straps and

smoothing a hand over the long top surface. “I think the prince ended up with both of 63

Delphine Dryden

them. Why pick one over the other, when they were both brave enough to help him get

rid of the dwarf? Okay, who’s first on this thing? Eeny, meeny, miney…oh fuck it.

Mara, get your ass over here.”

“Oh! Yes, Master.” Mara had been caught off guard by the sudden shift. She was

still puzzling out the possibilities of the revised story ending. She liked Master Daniel’s version better than the original, she knew that much at least.

She liked the spanking horse too. It was big and solid, and felt sturdy enough to

take anything she did to it. Kicking, screaming, biting. This thing had an air that said it had seen it all before. She climbed atop and straddled it almost reverently.

“All the way down,” Master Daniel instructed. She pressed her chest and face

against the padded leather, letting her arms hang down on either side. He must have

gestured Delia over, because the next thing Mara knew was the feel of small, cool hands at her ankles, fastening her to the bench. And then at her wrists, shackling her firmly into place.

Mara turned her head in time to see Master Daniel pointing to the couch, obviously

asking Delia to bring him something. But then he spotted her looking and smiled,

palming her head with his long-fingered hand and gently turning it back to face the

corner.

“No peeking. So yesterday, my sub reminded me that I had been horribly remiss. I

owe you an apology.”

“I don’t understand, Master.”

“You will. But there’s also the matter of you sneaking in some activities that weren’t authorized, isn’t there?”

“Oh. Y-yes. I’m sorry, Sir. I just got carried—”

“No excuses. You knew you were over the line, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

But she had not been able to resist.

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“So today there will be some overdue rewards, but there will be some punishment

first. You’ve told me your hard limits. But I also talked with Dru a little, and she says you’re something of a pain slut. So I thought this might be a good time to explore that.”

Mara took a deep breath, trying not to let it out with an audible tremor. She

nodded, and then just let her silence speak volumes.

“You cool with brussels sprouts?”

“As a food or a safe word?”

“Smartass. That’s just going to earn you more time on the horse.”

She smiled. “And this is bad because…? I’m fine with brussels sprouts. As a safe

word. If I forget, I’ll use red light.”

“Fair enough.”