It took another humming ten seconds of tension, but he reached for the door, opened it with a muttered oath that made her hide a smile.
She was anxious, too, but she made sure she covered it. She didn’t know how this weekend would go. It would test the strength of the bond growing between them, a bond that seemed deeper than expected at this juncture. Understanding a couple of the reasons for it in a way she knew he did not yet, she hoped that this weekend would enhance it, not shatter it. She’d no doubt they were going to go into some uncomfortable territory. That was the nature of mixing a D/s sexual relationship with the things of the outside world. She was willing to take the risks, even knowing the stakes were growing higher every moment she was around him and her desire to claim him, keep him, grew.
“We observe certain etiquettes while we’re here,” she said. “When you’re with me, you follow me, a pace behind. “ Mac dropped back a pace, and she nodded, didn’t break stride. “Don’t meet any Dom’s gaze directly unless instructed to do so. You obey my commands, and if you have any questions, you ask permission before you ask them.
Finally,” she glanced back at him, “subs are required to be unclothed for the duration, only wearing what toys and jewelry their Master or Mistress deems is appropriate.” She registered his jerk of surprise just as Tyler opened the door, before she could knock. Here goes, girl. Don’t blow it.
“Right on time.” Tyler smiled down at her. In his mid-forties like Mac, he had the look of a relaxed pro golfer. Tanned and with a lean muscularity, he kept his dark hair touched with gray trimmed close, so that the immediate focus was on his deep-set brown eyes, prominent nose, and curved, firm lips. He had a universal appeal; Violet had yet to see the person Tyler couldn’t make feel at ease when he chose to do so.
“Tyler, this is Mac.”
Tyler glanced over her shoulder. “Mac. Welcome to my home. I’m sure Violet explained the rules to you. Lower your gaze.”
She also knew he could turn that warmth into instant coolness, as he did now. Used to a Mistress beating the hell out of him for infractions, and playing one-on-one, Mac 74
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was going to be stressed by a group, co-ed dynamic like this. Being a sub was a lot more than that, though Violet couldn’t blame any Mistress for wanting to keep him all to herself.
Tyler had ratcheted up her slave’s tension with the immediate gauntlet. Assessing him as a Dom was one thing, and part of what was expected this weekend. But as he studied Mac thoroughly, lingering deliberately on the prominent erection so that Mac was sure to feel the regard, he was clearly evaluating her choice in a protective, fraternal way that had a unique flavor with the Dom angle thrown in. Mac, an obvious mundane world alpha, was being compelled to act as a submissive member of the pack to a male challenging his claim on her. She could almost see the rise of his hackles, but ultimately he obeyed. Somewhat. Interestingly, he cut his eyes over to her first, making it clear it was her will he was obeying, not Tyler’s. Further, he averted his gaze, rather than lowered it.
Tyler’s lips twisted, acknowledging the cut. “You’ve got your hands full with this one, Violet. Maybe a weekend with us will teach him some manners. When you enter the hallway, Mac, there is a changing room to your left. You’ll leave all clothes and jewelry there, except what your Mistress has instructed you to leave on. You will then come join us in the main dining room, where you will kneel by your Mistress’s chair.” Violet laid one hand on Mac’s forearm. His silver gaze flickered to that contact, and she felt the heat singe the fine hairs along her wrist. “Mackenzie,” she said. “You may remove everything.”
She thought to give him a break, to preserve his dignity somewhat, but she should have known Tyler’s ears would catch the slight inflection.
“I thought he looked a little stirred up,” Tyler chuckled. “Maybe you should use a larger size next time, Violet. He’s still far too rebellious for a slave with his Mistress’s will shoved up his ass.”
She tightened her grip on Mac’s arm as the muscles hardened beneath her touch.
“Go get changed,” she ordered softly. “Now, Mackenzie.” Feeling a maelstrom of emotions vibrate off him like an impending explosion, she held her touch a moment longer, and then let go, turning her back on him. There was frustration, anger, and something else, the thing she was trying to rouse, the confusing jumble of feelings every sub fought at this stage of the game. A tug of war between will and desire, control, power and need that fucked up their minds. If the loss of control frightened them enough, they would do things to deliberately earn punishment, to test the will of the Mistress. Knowing Mac, Tyler had just ensured they were in for a lively evening.
He turned, offered his arm to Violet. “Let me show you to the table.” As they left Mac in the foyer and headed further into the house, Tyler’s fingers tightened on hers. “Don’t look back. You’ll only whisk him away someplace where you can pet him and protect him and abandon your resolve to break him down. You wanted us to play it hard this weekend, to help you. This is step one.” 75
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“He’s so obviously one-on-one,” she swallowed. “I’m afraid this will tear something loose in him, Tyler.”
“If it’s his heart, it will make it all the easier for him to give it to you. Violet,” Tyler took her by the shoulders now that they were out of Mac’s sight, and put a restraining hand to her chin. “He’s not damaged. He can say no, and the game immediately ends, no censure, no anything. He takes his place at the table and joins us as a neutral, a voyeur only.”
“But I don’t know if that’s true. There’s something that keeps him from saying no when he really wants to say no. I don’t know what it is.”
“Then you’ll get to the bottom of it. You’re in charge of him, sweetheart.” He brushed a finger over her cheek. “You’re really gone over him. It’s cute. I’ve never seen Violet in love.”
“I am not. Don’t be a smart ass.” She scowled and he grinned, though his eyes grew a shade more serious in contrast.
“I’m not. If he’s good for you, I’m all for him. If not, I’m hiring a guy to kick his ass.
Based on his size and that lethal look he has in his eyes for me, maybe several guys. Oh, speaking of lethal, did I tell you? I almost got Marguerite to accept an invitation to come this weekend.”
“You’re entirely too fascinated with her, Tyler.”
“I can’t help it. She’s like a dark pool, and every writer knows the best stories lie beneath still waters.”
“She’d have to pick a sub, and I don’t think she takes anyone outside.”
“I told her I usually have a couple Zone staff available for play as well as food service. She said she’d think about it and maybe be here next time. Come, you should meet my Leila.”
Leila, it turned out, was the centerpiece of the large glass table in the formal dining room. A tawny-skinned woman with large dark eyes, she had a mass of flame red hair that had been fanned out like a rippling crimson scarf across the polished glass. The table was etched with an oval border of silver roses that framed her naked body. Her arms stretched out to either side of her, her palms supporting two plates at the five place settings. The position would require her to remain still while the two Doms at those seats ate their meals.
Her ankles rested on the very edge of the table, while her thighs had been spread wide apart so her pussy would be open to the head of the table. Leila’s navel was pierced, and the loop there secured a chain that ran down to her clit where the matching piercing had been drawn taut, not painfully, but enough to make her feel the tug between the two pierced points.
“This is my Leila,” Tyler said, stroking his hand down her flank and caressing a nipple, displayed full and stiff in pewter shields inset with uncut gems. “Leila, this is Mistress Violet.”
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“My pleasure, Mistress,” Leila said, her voice strained, her eyes on the ceiling.
“Take your place, Violet. Any place you wish except the head of the table. I reserve the pleasure of that view. Leila has an incredibly responsive pussy. She gets wet if I simply tell her to do so.”
“You’re fortunate to have such a lovely, obedient slave,” Violet murmured, overwhelmed to hushed response. In the presence of Tyler’s Mastery, reverent tones always seemed most appropriate.
“And the perfect centerpiece. But we need candlelight.” The other Mistresses were assembled already. The twins had taken the plates Leila was desperately balancing, of course, and Lisbeth was at the foot of the table. Violet took a moment to meet the unreadable but not unfriendly gaze of the woman who had been Mac’s first Mistress. She was older than Violet had expected, possibly early fifties, but a well-cared for fifty, with blonde hair pulled back in a sleek bun, her expertly applied make-up accentuating high cheek bones, vivid green eyes that had a powerful charisma emanating from them, and a lush mouth. None of it appeared to be the result of a surgeon’s knife, as she had the bone structure of a woman who had enjoyed good looks all her life and obviously knew how to maintain them. She wore black slacks and a soft turtleneck that emphasized a pair of generous breasts. Her hand rested on the shoulder of a naked man, about the same age as herself and in impressive physical shape. He rested in submissive kneeling posture at the arm of her chair, his head bowed.