Natural Law

"So did you have any questions you want answered, before we get there?" It was only a thirty-minute drive to Tyler's from the picnic site, but Violet made good use of the time. She posed the question while she ran her fingers up and down his thigh, wandering frequently over to the curve of his testicles, making him keep his legs open to provide her access. She knew the plug teased him, and she added to it. As a result, he stayed fully, uncomfortably erect all the way to the turn-off to Tyler's private access road.

"If it pleases my Mistress..." He cleared his throat, but did not completely succeed in removing the hoarse need from it. "...Who will be there this weekend? I'm new to The Zone, so I'm not as familiar with the players."

"Tyler's about your age, and was my mentor. He's an erotic film producer. Not porn, not Triple X stuff. He does European erotica and Red Shoe Diary type things. A couple collaborations with Zalman King, but he feels like ZK gets too artsy, loses the erotic connection sometimes. I met Tyler at a party, and he was the one who helped me figure out what I liked from a man sexually, why I was dissatisfied so much. We hit it off right away, and later he told me that sometimes Doms just sense one another, the same sense that lets them identify a sub at twenty paces." She pinched him lightly and he bit back a grunt of frustrated desire. Violet smiled. "At the time, I had urges, but I thought there was something wrong with me. He helped me understand about D/s, introduced me to places like The Zone. Discretion is very important to me, in the job I do, so he helped me learn to keep the two lives separate." Mac glanced over at her. "But you don't want to keep them separate." She studied the horizon, appreciating how intuitive he was, but not wanting him to see he could read her that easily. "I wish they didn't have to be kept separate. One of the rules is to keep play in The Zone, not take it out of those places." She curled her hand under his inner thigh, increasing her grip, letting him feel the possessive need in her touch. "He also told me that once you understand the rules, then you can break them.

"I told you some about the twins already, Tamara and Kiera, T&K. They're more than Mistresses. They're pure Doms, through and through." She sharpened her tone to be sure she had his full attention. "They brook no disobedience of any kind, from any slave. You might want to keep that in mind, with your reluctance to use safe words. I may not always be in the room to protect you this weekend." His gaze snapped from the road to her briefly. "So while I'm there...they can..."

"If I tell them they can. Unless my slave wishes to tell me about any boundaries he has in that regard."

Mac was silent for a few moments. Violet waited.

"No, Mistress. Your pleasure is my pleasure, as I have said." His tone was low, pained. The need to reassure him gripped at her heart, but she squelched it. He had to learn he could trust her. She continued on as if the tension in the car had not just increased threefold.

"The third Mistress is Lisbeth."

"Lisbeth?"

"She's not a Zone regular, but she's a friend of Tyler's. Her favorite haunt is a place called - "

"True Blue."

Violet's brows lifted and he shrugged. Uncomfortably, she noted. "She was my first Mistress. The one who started off my training, gave me the cuffs, when I 'graduated', as she put it."

"Oh." Violet digested that, glanced at his face. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"You tell me."

Which meant maybe yes, but he wasn't going to tell her anything he perceived she didn't want to hear, anything that made him appear vulnerable.

"No problem for me, then." She decided to play along, and watched the muscle in his cheek jump with tension.

Tyler's drive ran several miles off the main road through a forest of live oaks and long leaf pines before it reached his restored antebellum plantation house. Violet put her hand back on Mac's cock as he drove through the winding curves, working the gear shift, and her blood stirred as he automatically parted his thighs wider, accommodating her. She hummed casually to herself, registering his tension, his every involuntary shift that showed the plug was combining with her stimulation to tease him to a higher level of arousal. She suspected his apprehension served as an additional catalyst, for his cock was enormous beneath her touch. He didn't know what to expect, how much he would be tested this weekend, how much she intended to enjoy him.

Since he didn't seem disposed to ask any more questions, she kept up her idle stroking, squeezing and pinching as she desired in the charged silence, until it was broken by his breath rasping in his throat. He made a somewhat less than smooth turn into Tyler's circular driveway before the house and brought the car to a stop behind a silver Jag marked with the T&K license plate.

"Violet, I can't go in there like this."

She arched a brow. "Are you refusing me?"

"Are you commanding me to meet your friends with a hard-on this size?" She stretched up, kissed his cheek, moved back, nibbled his ear. "Yes, slave. I am.

You're about to meet four very powerful and experienced Doms. I'm a baby to them, and I want to impress them." She laid her hand back on his crotch and squeezed again, earning an indrawn breath. "This is very impressive."

"Is that what this torture is about?" He sounded caught between irritation and amusement.

"No. But I think it makes you more comfortable to think so." She rubbed her hand over him again, one hard sure stroke this time that made his hips lift to her touch before he could stop himself. He caught her wrist and they froze, looking at each other. His eyes glittered, his jaw held tense in obstinacy. She made her face blank, unreadable.

"Let go of me, Mackenzie. Now."

He drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and she squelched the desire to reach out, stroke his temple. Instead, she passed her thumb over the head of his cock, startlingly prominent through the denim. It was a lighter touch this time, but there, emphasizing that her interest and pleasure was to keep him visibly, painfully aroused. "Get out of the car."

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 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."

"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."

"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.

The twins had their sub on his hands and knees beneath the glass table. Violet could not determine his features, because his chin rested between Tamara's splayed thighs, his face buried, unmoving, in her crotch, as she had apparently commanded. His body and his shoulder-length streaked blonde hair suggested the sleek lines of a thirty-something pretty boy, hung like a Texas longhorn, with a tight, slender ass that Kiera idly brushed with her heel, occasionally teasing his anus with the spike tip.

"Oh, Violet, you've outdone yourself," Tamara said admiringly.

Violet turned to see Mac standing at the door, his eyelids lowered, waiting for her to be seated. Seeing him through their eyes, her breath caught in her throat. The broad gleaming shoulders, furred chest, tapered hips. Long, powerful arms and thighs.

Impressive cock. All completely exposed to their appreciation.

There was an arrogant set to his expression, despite his observation of the requirement not to meet the eyes of any Master or Mistress present, including her. He was still semi-erect, and as his eyes carefully coursed over Leila without the lids rising inappropriately, taking in her predicament and the submissive posture of the other men present, it grew even stiffer.

Violet took a seat to Tamara's right and gestured. "Come here, Mackenzie. Kneel by me."

"If that cock was mine, I'd keep it in a chastity belt when he was away from me," Tamara observed. "Keep that bad boy from misbehaving with his hand...or anyone else."

"I don't cheat on my Mistress," Mac said coldly, going to one knee at Violet's side.

"In any way."

His words seemed to startle Lisbeth, Violet noted. The woman's eyes widened slightly, then she covered her surprise by lifting her wine to her lips.

"I think we need candlelight," Tyler interjected. "Mac, please remember not to speak unless spoken to. We will forgive two infractions, but the third will likely incur punishment from your Mistress." He picked up a tapered candle from the sidebar, flicked on his lighter. "David," he nodded toward the man at Lisbeth's feet, "with your Mistress's permission, please lower the lights. " He passed an amused glance over T&K's young man under the table. "Since Collin is somewhat occupied at the moment." At her murmured command, Lisbeth's sub rose and complied, so the illumination was limited to the light of the early evening coming through the bay window, creating shadows and a rose and gold hue over the room and all the people in it.

Tyler stepped to Leila's side, between Violet and his seat, and used the lighter to heat the base of the candle. Leila's brown eyes were on his hands, and she drew in a sharp breath as the hot wax dripped onto her stomach, over and around her navel, her arms trembling at the initial moment of excruciating heat and then continuing to quiver at the lingering, tingling sensation Violet knew it roused in the nervous system. When enough drops fell, Tyler seated the candle in the cooling puddle of wax he'd created, adhering it to her body. As the candle burned, it would drip more wax down its length, adding to the puddle, continuing to stimulate her skin with its heated touch.

"If the rest of you would oblige me, there is a candle and a lighter by each of your settings," he instructed. "Feel free to place the candle where you'd like." Violet felt Mackenzie's attention on her as she stood to imitate Tyler's actions. She chose the shallow indentation between the hip bone and the navel for the short taper.

Leila tried to quell her movements, though her breath gasped out of her, and her arousal could be smelled plainly. Sweat stood out in a sheen on her shoulders, slicked her breasts. As Kiera dripped wax on her nipples, Leila cried out, her tongue caressing her own lips. She closed her eyes and turned her head this way and that, trying to hold the rest of her body still so as not to unseat the candles, but incapable of not moving.

"Last one," Tyler said softly.

"Master, I cannot bear it," Leila said plaintively. "I'll come, and shame you."

"You will not come, for you only come on my command," he reproved sternly. "Do you wish to please me?"

"More than anything."

"Then be still. And I will permit you to come if you must, but you cannot unseat Kiera and Tamara's plates, or any of the candles. That would be very rude and would displease me greatly."

"Yes, Master."

He flicked his lighter again, and Violet watched, mesmerized, as he positioned the taper just over her swollen and glistening clit. Mackenzie's hand stole around her ankle, caressing her, and she almost gasped as Leila did at the intense pleasure of his lightest touch, magnified by the visual stimulation Leila was providing.

"They are all entranced by you, love," Tyler said quietly. Leila screamed, a soft cry, as the first drop fell, but she did not move. She whimpered; soft, staccato noises of need as each drip came, slid around and over her. When she was coated, Tyler placed the base of the candle amidst the petals of her sex, just below the piercing, gently working it into place in the cooling wax so he stroked her clit, made her teeth grit in concentration.

Mackenzie's hand eased up Violet's calf, tickled the back of her knee, but he could go no further where her leg met the chair without the aggressive move of taking his fingers to the top of her thigh. Not surprisingly, he tried it, but she put her hand over his, staying him with a light touch, keeping her eyes on Leila though she was hyperaware of him there, so close beside her.

"I think we need to make sure you have something to focus on throughout dinner," Tyler commented, his voice catching, revealing how the response of his lover was affecting him. Leila's eyes widened as he produced a vibrator from inside a velvet cloth bag by his plate.

"Oh, Master, I'll come too hard."

"There's no such thing," Lisbeth observed. "The harder the better." She shifted her focus to Mac's bowed head. "And I'll bet he's hard as a rock now." Harder than rock. Mac felt he could give diamond ore a challenge. Leila's soft gasps and moans, her struggle to hold her straining spread-eagle position without any visible straps or bindings, would have been riveting by themselves. But Violet's rapt attention and the fact those lovely thighs pressed together at the knees could not hide the unique smell of her own arousal, so close to his nose, were driving him crazy.

Leila began to come the moment the broad head of the dildo stretched her pussy lips, pushed carefully into the wetness below the candle's sensitive saddle and began to disappear. Her whole body shuddered hard, enough to make the glassware tremble on the table, but she did not move at first, only cried out repeatedly as her fluids ran down the pink sides of the vibrator where they could see, her labia rippling over its thick sides, milking it as a flush raced from her chest to her face.

"Oh, God," she murmured. "I can't. Master - "

In sync, Tamara and Kiera closed their grip on her arms from elbow to wrist and Tyler laid his hands on her thighs to steady her as the orgasm swept over her. Her body convulsed, tried to arch against them and dislodge the candles and lose her balance of the plates.

Violet closed her hand around the taper at Leila's hip and belly, holding it secure while the girl thrashed and her moan became a long, keening cry of release that vibrated the glass in the bay window, making it sparkle with the sun's fading light.

Mac's fingers crept up to her hip, his need and desire communicating itself through his touch, a desperate desire for relief.

Not yet. She was incredibly aroused herself, but he was going to earn her attention tonight. He was testing her still, she could tell, for his hand had made free to steal to her hip by caressing its way up her thigh while her hands were occupied, though she had prohibited him from going that route only a moment before. She allowed it, for the moment.

"That's my girl," Tyler dropped a soft kiss on Leila's cheeks, her mouth, holding her jaw so she did not get too greedy with the kiss. Watching her was like seeing a woman parched with thirst try to take a swallow, when a sip was all that was permitted, a hummingbird pulling from a feeder.

"These Mistresses are so impressed with you," Tyler said. "I can hardly wait to take you to my bed tonight and fuck you until you scream for me again."

"Take me now, Master," Leila begged in a whisper. The Mistresses had retaken their seats, but Violet saw that, like her, every Dom at the table was hanging onto the hunger in that voice, absorbed in her want, responding to it.

Tyler smiled, the affectionate heat for her still raging in his eyes, in the arousal in his pants he did not bother to hide from this assembly, but he shook his head. "First, we eat, my love. We have guests. Don't be rude and make me punish you. To keep you remembering your place..." He made an adjustment on the vibrator. "We'll keep this on low setting, which will torment you without appeasement. That will be the job of my cock. We've games to play tonight, and I don't want to tire you out." He took his seat and summoned the domestic staff for the meal to begin. Violet's salad was served by a familiar face, a six foot tall twenty-something with brown hair like silk and the face of a cover model for formal wear, aesthetically from the same mold of the sub that Tamara and Kiera had brought tonight. Despite her preferences for a more rugged-looking man, Violet had played with Mark before, as he was an amiable and willing sub on The Zone staff, and he was undeniably easy on the eyes. Tonight he wore only a pair of tightly fitted trousers and a sheen of fragrant oill on his impressive muscles. He set the small salad down in the center of her plate and smiled at her.

"Let me know if you need anything else, Mistress Violet. We're here to serve." He ran a light finger down her arm playfully, but with a deferential sweep of his lashes, to apologize if she took it as an inappropriate gesture.

"Touch her again, and I'll break that fucking arm," Mac murmured, never lifting his head.

Mark froze. Conversation around the table stilled, for though the threat had been delivered in a low voice, Mac had enunciated clearly. As Violet suspected he had intended to do.

Never mind that his words, blatantly expressing his desire to be sole provider of her wants and needs, ran frissons of pleasure through her vitals. On more than one occasion, Tyler had pointed out to her that she was more of a one-on-one Mistress herself, which was another thing that she suspected had attracted her to Mac. Like called to like in the subconscious.

However, his words were a direct challenge she could not leave unanswered. She had known he would go too far, and he had done so early, bringing the issue to a head.

Proof of the point, he had raised his head now and was staring at her, hard, defiant, a clear "what are you going to do about it?" look. His position made it easy for her to follow through on her response. She slapped him across the face, using her full strength, careful to hit his jaw line instead of his eyes or the sensitive area of the ear. The strike was hard, strong, but not painful, and the psychological impact was effective.

Shock was replaced by fury, and something else, something that wrenched at her heart.

She masked her response to that and kept her tone cold. "It is not for you to say who touches me and who doesn't, Mackenzie."

"The hell it isn't."

She struck him again, opposite direction, using the back of her hand this time. "Put your lips to my foot, and ask for my forgiveness." He stared at her, five charged seconds. The stillness at the table was palpable, the only sound Leila's ragged breathing as the vibrator continued to stimulate her with a soft hum. Tyler gestured for more wine, casually, though his eyes were as intent as the other Doms on the struggle, and the nuances of control and trust that were working furiously below its surface.

Her willful sub lowered his head at last, and his shoulders curved forward, his hips rising from his heels, giving Tamara a view of his backside that Violet envied. She waited as he went lower, lower, and then she felt the press of his mouth come to rest on the toe of her shoe. "I won't say I'm sorry," he said, his voice muffled. "I want to be the only one who gives you pleasure."

She couldn't think of anyone more well-equipped to do a lifetime of that for her, but he wasn't finished.

"And I will break his arm if he touches you again." Unexpectedly, she felt herself stifling a smile at the sullen statement. She heard Tamara muffle a chuckle, and appreciated the other Dom's understanding of the situation. "Stay in that position," she demanded. "Spread your knees two feet apart, let Mistress Tamara see those oversized balls of yours that are always getting you into this kind of trouble with me."

He trembled, his hand now curled around the arch of her foot, but he obeyed.

Tamara purred in approval. Violet shifted her attention to the Dom twin. "Mistress, will you do me the honor of paddling this arrogant slave's ass ten strokes to teach him manners?"

"With pleasure." Tamara rose, went to the sideboard where an array of floggers and paddles were assembled next to the makings of after dinner coffee. She chose a paddle of one inch thick wood, nine inches long, with holes in it.

Violet had seen Tamara wield one like it before, knew that the splayed leg position was just to make the sub feel excessively vulnerable. Tamara would not come anywhere near the sensitive sac, but Mac would not know that. Violet laid her hand on his head, stroked his hair back with a deceptively light touch. "Proceed." She nodded to Tamara.

Leila's breathing was getting louder, and the room was thick with sexual heat, every eye watching that muscular ass quivering in the air, waiting to take its punishment.

Whack! Wood paddles made a lot of noise and hurt like fire when wielded with strength, and Tamara had a good arm. Mac let out a grunt, his fingers tightening on her shoe.

"Do you apologize?"

"Only for causing you distress, not for my actions."

"Again," she nodded. "Three strokes in succession." Mac might have been under the impression he could handle a spanking from a woman's arm, but Violet suspected he was rethinking that as his shoulder pressed into her calf with the force of the next three strokes. His buttocks were already turning red.

Violet caught her fingers in his curls, a painful grip this time, keeping his mouth shoved to her shoe. "You will apologize, Mackenzie."

"I can't, Mistress. I want to be the only one who serves you."

"Perhaps you will, if you learn to submit to me. Stop fighting me, Mac." She nodded. "Four more."

This time, his fingers tightened on her before the blow came, and she felt his breath expel sharply against the flesh of her ankle on the second stroke. Violet worried that she had chosen the wrong number, that she'd underestimated Mac's ability to bear more pain than he should. Given the power Tamara was putting behind her strokes, he should have been screaming.

On the fourth, he let out a hiss. Violet ran a hand down the curve of his back, slick with perspiration. "Ask forgiveness, Mackenzie. You know you stepped across the line."

Tamara landed strike nine at that moment, when he was unprepared, and he bumped hard against her shins, catching onto them to keep from being thrown to the floor. His breath rasped hard, in time with the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders. Violet bit the inside of her cheek, to let her own pain pull her focus from his. "Mackenzie - "

"I ask your forgiveness, Mistress," he mumbled, his fingers going around her leg like a manacle, holding her hard, fast, communicating his physical strength at the same moment he capitulated to her emotional power over him. "I spoke out of turn, without your leave, and deserve to be punished. Please do not spare the final blow, and if you think I deserve ten more, I will submit to your pleasure." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tyler's lip curl in grudging admiration. Kiera and Tamara looked as if they would have given Violet their Jag in exchange for a chance to have Mac in their dungeon for one night, testing his resolve against even higher levels of pain.

Fortunately, he was all hers. Stubborn, foolish, hardheaded jackass that he was.

"I think one more should be sufficient," she said, though she wanted to call an end to it now. "Mistress, if you please."

"My pleasure again, Mistress." Tamara ran her long nails down one curve of Mac's ass, digging into the angry red color, and he gasped. She pulled back and brought the paddle back into play, one loud hard smack to the contour of his buttocks, skillfully just above the joining point of his testicles so the sensation would sing down into them but not harm him.

"Sweet Christ," Mac muttered, though only Violet heard the whispered expletive.

She wanted to soothe his pain, but that wouldn't drive the lesson home.

"Now sit up, put your ass against your heels so you feel the burn," she said. "We wish to proceed with our dinner." She caught his chin as he straightened, hauled him up the last few inches and was relieved to see the flash of temper in his eyes at her rough handling. "And if I wish to have Mark eat my pussy, and command you to sit there and watch, you'll hand him a towel to wipe his mouth after I come. Do you understand?"

He was bleeding where he had bitten his tongue. She rubbed her thumb at the corner of his mouth, gently taking the blood away. At the same time she forced her eyes to remain hard, unblinking, though tears threatened behind them. She sensed Tyler's tension just beyond them, but Mac wouldn't hurt her. She didn't know how she knew that, because her beautiful slave looked like he wanted to break her in half, but she knew.

"Answer me, Mackenzie," she said, in her softest, firmest tone.

"Yes, Mistress." He sounded like he was strangling on it.

"Yes, what?"

Kiera drew in a breath at her audacity. If she was pushing past the twins'

boundaries, Violet knew she was in dangerous waters, indeed. But the rules be damned.

She wanted him to surrender. To understand what serving a Mistress was, because she wanted him like she'd never wanted anything in her life. She wasn't backing down.

He'd accept her hand as his Mistress completely, or she'd call the game over. She knew the treasure that awaited them both under all his fear and stubbornness, and she wasn't taking half.

Mac swallowed, showed his teeth. "If you command it, Mistress, I will hold a towel for Mark to wipe his mouth, after he eats your pussy." His gaze lifted to hers, and his silver eyes were torn between fury and an aching desire so strong it blasted straight into her heart. "Though I would beg my Mistress's permission to wipe her pussy first, for a sub should never attend to his needs, or that of another slave, before the needs of his Mistress."

Violet could not take her eyes from his. She mutely offered her hand, glad she only had to raise it a fraction before he seized it, pressed his mouth hard atop her knuckles.

She didn't want the others to see the way she was trembling, but he felt it. His fingers tightened on hers, somehow conveying chagrin and reassurance at once, in that protective way of his that spread a warm balm over her frazzled nerves, making it all right. For the moment.

Through the gesture, she could feel that he regretted causing her the conflict, but she knew regret didn't translate into victory. She'd only breached one wall. The ones that remained might be even more difficult. She was angrier with him than anyone she'd ever known.

Tyler was right. She was in love.