Authors: Delphine Dryden
She had seen him with the tawse, so she felt fairly comfortable with his ability not to do her butt any lasting damage. Though she thought she might have to stop him
before he got to the cane.
But it was soon clear that stopping him wouldn’t be necessary. He began with a
flogger, and he started so slowly she would have been concerned about falling asleep if she hadn’t seen him leave stripes on Delia’s ass the night before. But he was a fast learner; she was starting to get that about him. And he paid attention. Every moan,
every flex and strain of her body against the leather, resulted in a little correction, until there was a whole silent conversation taking place between him and her, between the
whip and her body. Give and take, give and take. Lulling her down, lulling her deep.
And then, the unexpected.
“Favorite movie?”
It took her a second, during which the tails of the flogger smacked sharply against
her haunch again. She tried, and failed, to think of something that sounded impressive.
Cool, hip, modern. Nothing.
“
Princess Bride
.”
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Whack.
Not her intent, not hip, probably. But at least it was the truth, so what the hell.
“Favorite class you ever took?”
Favorites, what the hell?
Whack!
“Astronomy of the Plains Indians.”
“Seriously?” This from Delia. “Cool.”
“Yeah, it really was. I was surprised.”
Daniel shushed them, and Mara stifled a giggle that bubbled up from the depths of
her soul. A conversation about astronomy class?
Whack!
The flogger reminded her where she was.
Oh yeah, we were in the middle of doing
that
.
“Last significant other?”
Not quite sure I want to go there.
Whack.
“Amie. It’s been over for months. Ouch! She’s a Domme. Scenes were good but real
life didn’t work for us.”
Mara’s eyes had drifted shut and she was taken by surprise to feel fingers drifting
through her hair, almost as if she were being petted. She snuck her eyes open a crack then shut them again. She
was
being petted.
Whack.
Delia was standing at her head, stroking her hair. While Daniel whipped her ass.
Okay.
Whack.
“Not seeing anybody else right now then?” This was Delia, her voice soft and
musical, a melodic counterpoint to the whip’s percussion.
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“No.” Did she mean to sound so plaintive?
Poor little Mara, all alone in the world. Take me home like a lost puppy.
Delia’s hand was on her cheek now, smoothing hair back from her face. She let her
fingertips rest over Mara’s temple, just above her ear.
Whack.
Mara felt a press on her cheekbone. Lips, rose-petal soft. She knew they were pink,
even when the lip gloss had worn off them. She had noticed.
“Delia. Don’t get mouthy either. Yet.” His voice was soft too. It sounded warm and
candlelit.
“Yes, Master.”
Whack.
This
, Mara thought.
This, yes
.
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Chapter Ten
There was a tempo to it, Daniel had realized. A way to pace things, to keep it all in hand. The pain, the rest, the repositioning. The natural end to one whip’s usefulness and the logical time to pick up a different toy. He was better organized tonight, and determined not to accidentally deviate from his planned scene. He was still a little aggrieved that he’d forgotten all about the promising glass dildo, left unused last night in its pitcher of ice.
Mara’s ass and upper thighs were rosy, glowing from the flogger but not so red he
needed to stop yet. She was in subspace, and she was probably able to take a little more pain now. Give that freshly whipped skin a few moments to recover, he knew, and it
would be sensitive beyond belief.
The cane was slender, some translucent fiber rather than bamboo, and slightly
whippy. He tested it on his palm awhile, figuring out how it would fly in the air,
realizing he would not need to use his wrist as much. Just a short, almost choppy, flat stroke.
It sounded thuddier than he’d expected. Mara’s reaction, a shocked gasp, was very
gratifying. He gave her a few seconds, to let her decide whether to continue.
More questions. He liked the apparent truth-serum effect of the whips. She had
opened up a little online, while they were playing, but he wanted to know more. Delia had wanted to know more too. And asking her random things seemed to keep her from
getting too trancy. Maybe it would let things draw out a little longer.
But after a few more questions and strokes of the cane, he was having trouble
thinking up things to ask her. There was so much eye candy in the room he was really just proud of himself for not actively drooling. And Mara, he could tell all too plainly, was already so aroused. Her pert, rounded little ass was moving in tiny circles between 68
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strokes, as she tried to rub against the nap of the time-softened leather bench. And her mouth kept making a little O shape that drove him insane with lust.
Not that it was any better to look at Delia. Sweet merciful heavens, she looked like a kinky angel in that outfit. Or a porno bride. And the look on her face, sweet and
curious, as she bent down to kiss Mara…
He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to fuck them, or just rub them both all over his
body in some way, or what.
Mara’s ass was turning to red-on-pink stripes, and her lollipop lips were getting dry from panting. Time to move on, maybe.
“You still with me, Mara?”
“Yes, Master Daniel.” She didn’t sound all that with it, but at least she was
coherent.
He put the cane down and rounded the bench, running a hand over her hip before
curling his fingers down the cleft of her ass, trailing them across heated skin until they reached her cunt.
Then he had to have another stern Dom talk with himself to keep from tearing his
pants off and burying himself inside her right then. Because she was soft, and smoothly hairless, and hotter than hell and wet, so wet and ready. He couldn’t resist pushing a finger inside her, then two, rocking them back and forth.
The next voice in his head was the one reminding him that he was standing with his
fingers buried in a woman’s pussy, a woman who was not his wife, and his wife was
standing right there in the white porno wedding outfit, and what the hell was he
thinking?
Delia was smiling. Her dreamy, turned-on smile. Watching his hand as if she
wished she were in Mara’s place, or possibly in the place of his hand, but certainly not as though she were pissed off at him for putting it there.
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The Dom voice reminded him that he was in charge, and there were certain perks to
being in charge, even if they came at the cost of torturing his already painfully hard, pussy-starved penis. So Daniel smiled at Delia and pulled his fingers free to offer them to her.
“Come and clean them off.”
And she did, with great enthusiasm.
“Does she taste good, sub?”
“Yes, Master.”
“If you’re good, you’ll get another taste later.”
“Thank you, Master. If that pleases you.”
“I can’t really see how it wouldn’t.” He stroked a finger back along Mara’s slit, and felt gently lower until he found the hot, throbbing little nub of her clit. Another very gratifying reaction from her. “Delia, go get the vibe that’s on the edge of the couch over there. There’s an outlet right next to this corner, you can go ahead and plug it in there.”
While she was scurrying to do all that, he leaned over Mara and spoke low, next to
her ear. Not to hide anything from Delia, but just because it seemed more powerful that way. “You know which vibe I’m talking about, don’t you, Mara?”
She nodded and whimpered. Her hair was clinging to her forehead, damp and
endearingly messy. Delia had missed a few strands, it seemed.
“You didn’t get to come last night. That’s why I owed you. If I make you come now,
with the vibrator, will you be able to get there again later?”
Another nod.
Good.
Women amazed him with their ability to come more than once in a short period of time. Sometimes he really couldn’t tell what the hell was going on with Delia’s orgasms. He didn’t necessarily understand where they came from. And it
was like once she got going, she couldn’t always stop. Whereas he had known himself
to come twice in an evening if he planned ahead and timed it all just right, but that was a very rare event. Usually it was just the once, and he was fine with that because it 70
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seemed a lot less complicated than the deal with vaginas and clitorises and G-spots.
Oh
my
.
Delia handed him the big, corded vibrator and he flicked it on for just a second,
recoiling a little at the strength of the vibration.
“You’re already really close, aren’t you?” he asked Mara, just to be on the safe side.
“Yes, Master. Please…”
“Shhh.”
He slipped his fingers back into her, relishing the fresh rush of heat that greeted
him, and pumped them a few times until her hips started to counter his movement. He
could feel her channel tensing around him, feel the coiled readiness in her. And he
almost felt bad for what he was about to do, because he knew it would probably hurt
like hell even though it made her come her brains out. But mostly he was looking
forward to seeing her come her brains out.
“Lift up,” he coaxed, tugging upward with his happily ensconced fingers.
Then he flicked the monster vibe on, slid it directly under her pelvic bone, and
pushed back down with his fingers so she came down to rest on the thing clit-first. And then he didn’t let her move. And then he turned it up to full.
After that, it only took three seconds for Mara to start coming in a way he could
only describe as “epic”.
The scream was kind of intimidating. And Daniel heard some words he wasn’t sure
he recognized. Either she was cursing in two languages or speaking in tongues. Her
body thrashed within the narrow limits of the restraints as she alternated trying to push away from the devil-vibe and trying to ride it. And Daniel never relented with his hand, kept fucking her pussy with his fingers until she was a twitching, trembling mess and her stream of obscenities had disintegrated into simple begging to stop.
He pulled the vibe away and handed it back to Delia, who took it with a look of
frightened awe and turned it off.
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“I think that evens things out a little. Don’t you?”
Mara tried to nod, but her head only made it up and down one time. Daniel
chuckled and made his way to the table where the water pitcher sat, pouring a glass for himself and taking a hefty swig before returning to the bench with an ice cube.
“Feed her this until it’s gone,” he told Delia. She took the cube and held it to Mara’s lips, teasing them open until Mara began licking and sucking at the ice.
Daniel turned away from that, needing a break before he saw any more imagery
that might set him off. He rolled his shoulders and neck, stretching his arms in a
leisurely way, and strolled across the room to examine the stuff he’d pulled out. Took a few minutes examining other things in the drawers while his pulse evened out. And
then, feeling a little restored, he turned back to the women, who had fallen suspiciously silent.
They were kissing.
He watched for a minute, completely enamored of the whole situation. Even after
he realized he should be scolding them or something, he just couldn’t bring himself to stop them. They looked so fucking hot.
He could bring himself to participate, though. And maybe even direct.
For instance, as the Dom, he thought he should get a say over certain details like
wardrobe and hand placement.
He’d need to unshackle a sub for that, though.
Both girls jumped when Daniel pulled at the first leg shackle. He just smirked at
them and went on with what he was doing. When they didn’t resume the kissing, he
played the eyebrow card.
“I didn’t say to stop.”
They both looked stricken with shyness, which was pretty damn cute. But then they
started necking again. He finished releasing both of Mara’s feet and moved to the
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hands, pressing a kiss to his wife’s shoulder before he ducked between Delia and the bench to undo the last restraint.
Probably not too Dom-like, he considered, the way he clicked his tongue and
tapped Delia’s shoulder to get her to move out of the way so he could pick Mara up
from the horse. He was probably supposed to have some special “move out of the way”
command. So much to learn. But whatever. He at least had a mostly naked, trembling
girl in his arms, so he couldn’t really beat himself up too much about these little details.
The corset was surprisingly scratchy against his skin, and Mara wasn’t quite as
heavy as he’d expected. It was a few steps over to the closest couch, where he managed not to dump her too heavily. He leaned against the low, broad arm of the thing for a moment, testing its strength. It was built solidly, and didn’t even protest his weight.
“We need some furniture like this, Dee. They look like something Romans would lie
around on while slaves fed them grapes. And then there’d be orgies and stuff.”
“Especially orgies,” Delia agreed. She had followed them over and sat on the edge