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Authors: Delphine Dryden
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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.
61
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
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.
61
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
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