The Unicorn

by Delphine Dryden

  Mara sat transfixed as the fledgling master started to work. He teased first, brushing a fingertip in a circle around one of his sub’s nipples but avoiding the tightly furled peak until Dee was arching toward him, trying to angle for the touch. He tsked and changed tactics, tweaking sharply and then flashing an evil grin when his victim squeaked in surprise.

  Mara would have liked to soothe that hurt with her mouth. She could practically feel the heated, gathered flesh between her lips, on her tongue. The rosy color there was deepening already, and the nipple was standing out proudly from its field of paler pink and white. As the master fastened the first clamp into place over the swollen bud, Dee gave a groan of pained delight. Mara tried not to gasp in sympathy, in jealousy.

  Again, though, she wasn’t as quiet as she’d thought. Master Daniel looked down at her again, and this time followed the line of her gaze back to his sub’s newly decorated breast. And then back to Mara’s face, with a question in his eyes.

  “Can you only help me with equipment, Mara? Or can you help me with her? Would you like to?” He let his eyes drift back to Dee, whose face was turned toward him as though she could see through the fine black silk.

  Dee only sighed, though it was a very telling sigh. She didn’t protest, though Master Daniel was clearly giving her a chance to. They were having a whole conversation with their bodies, communicating wordlessly even though the blindfold was in their way. Mara felt that curious envy again, remembering this wasn’t just a sub and Dom but a married couple. Having it all, or at least trying to for the moment. She wondered what it would be like to live with a Dom. To have a relationship with a master outside the bedroom. She’d rarely even gotten as far as considering that with a significant other, much less finding a Dominant to marry.

  “She’s into that too? You’ll let her answer for herself?”

  Dee didn’t wait for permission—which Mara actually took as a good sign in this case. “I’m into it! Uh . . . I mean, whatever Daniel orders is fine. Master Daniel.”

  “Okay, then.” She turned back to Daniel. “No restraints or impact play for me, of any kind—and no gags. I should stay free to move around and step out at any time, tonight. No sex with you, but touching and kissing are fine with either of you. No penetration, no sharps or blood play. No humiliation. I’m cool with ‘Brussels sprouts’ as a safeword. If that works for you.”

  “Uh.” He looked startled at the straightforward list. He wasn’t used to talking about it. Newbie. “Uh, yeah. That works for me. So . . . you’re in?”

  Mara didn’t like playing for the male gaze, but this felt different. Like the Dom gaze. She liked playing for the benefit of that quite a bit. And the chance to play with Delia . . . “I’d like that very much, Sir. Thank you.”

  Two chicks. Two.

  Daniel’s mind had briefly stopped working, and he was trying to whack it back into some semblance of utility but it kept getting stuck.

  Threesome threesome threesome.

  He looked from the stunning woman kneeling at his feet, to his beautiful wife dangling from the chains that led up to the ceiling. At the realization that Delia was not merely going along with all of this but eagerly participating, he got stuck on a new refrain.

  Love love love GOD I love this woman.

  He’d been so worried. So anxious about giving her what she needed. And he’d come so far, but now he had finally started anticipating, adventuring beyond what she’d asked for, and he knew a heady rush of power even greater than he had in the toy store. He could do this.

  And now there might also be hot girl-on-girl action, a pretty much unexpected bonus. An inspiration. He knew Delia had batted for both teams, knew she had polyamorous leanings, but she’d never suggested bringing in a third party. Not to play around, and definitely not as a long-term partner. She’d never even taken him very seriously when he’d suggested it. They lived in the suburbs. They both came from fairly traditional families. Life was generally more full of compromise than group sex.

  And this will not wind up that way, he told himself sternly. Agreeing to “help” was not agreeing to a three-way. Actual sex was off the table. So he would proceed with caution.

  “Well if you’re helping, then get up here and see to this other clamp.”

  Mara hopped up in one quick movement and passed him the tawse, trading it for the second nipple clamp.

  “May I use my mouth, Sir?”

  OhdearGodyespleasedothat.

  “One taste. And I’ll make you pay me for it later.” He swung the leather strap in a wide arc, warming up his shoulder.

  Then he let his arm fall to his side as he watched Mara lean in and take Delia’s nipple very gently between her teeth. Only for a second. Then her lips closed firmly, and she sucked hard, the movement of her cheeks and jaw suggesting she was working her tongue as well.

  The sound Delia made was like a siren call to his erection.

  “That’s enough.”

  With obvious reluctance, Mara released the now very taut nipple and fastened the clamp in place. She set the crystal in motion with a tap of her finger before stepping back, putting her hands behind her, legs apart. Waiting like a soldier. A little sex soldier.

  The candlelight played in the dangling crystals, sending reflections glancing here and there around the room. Now on the ceiling, now on the floor, now on Mara’s leg. Daniel slapped the tawse against his thigh, hard, and stifled a snicker when both women flinched.

  Stepping in toward Delia, he nudged her feet into a wider stance with his toe because he could. It lowered her down nearly to the end of the slack in the chain, and he checked to make sure the skin around the cuffs wasn’t squeezed too tight. Safety first. Then he reached into his pocket for the next fun thing.

  “Dee, there’s one more clamp. I’ll let you choose who puts it on you, me or Mara.”

  She turned her head again, trying to find him by the sound of his voice, but he was circling. Trying to keep her off-balance and guessing.

  “Mara, if it pleases you, Sir.”

  “Oh, I suspect it will.” He handed the slightly heavier clamp to Mara, who grinned like a lascivious fairy. Magical kink fairy.

  “May I use my mouth again, Sir?”

  “Honestly, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  He thought her knees might bruise, as quick as she dropped back down to the floor in front of Delia. Her short brush of black hair made a startling contrast against Delia’s ivory body and the narrow strip of dark-blonde hair on her mound.

  Throw a pink tongue into the mix, and Daniel thought he might never recover. For a moment he couldn’t breathe, as Mara bent at the hips and reached with the very tip of her extended tongue. It made contact right on Delia’s clit, and then lost contact because Delia jerked in surprise, nearly falling over but for the support of the chains.

  Another lick, more like a tap, from Mara’s tongue and Delia’s body went tense. She kept her feet, but her back bowed, as though she were trying to spread herself even wider.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Mara looked like a kitten, with those tiny, swift licks. And Delia sounded almost catlike, practically wailing. Daniel could see the glimmer of fresh wetness, and wanted to dive into it.

  “Lick her pussy,” he commanded, and Mara complied very eagerly. That quick little tongue lapped up every drop of juice it could find. Daniel wondered what it would feel like on his cock, then pushed that thought away as probably hazardous to his health. His erection was already making it hard to walk. Is that cheating . . . Am I mind-cheating? Delia always said she didn’t believe in cheating if everybody was informed and consenting. Daniel had never expected the question to become anything other than theoretical. What they were doing here definitely did not feel like either of them was cheating. It felt amazing.

  Too soon, he put a stop to it.

  “That’s enough.” Not because he thought it was enough, as he could have happily watched that all day, but because he didn’t want Delia t
o come yet. She might be physically primed, but she wasn’t there yet emotionally. He didn’t quite know how he knew, but he did. Not ready, not time, not yet. “Put the clamp on now.”

  Mara applied the clit clamp with a practiced touch and then sat back on her heels, awaiting further instruction. But for the moment, he gestured her back to the seating area. The next part was up to him.

  Another slap of the tawse on his leg sent a tremor through Delia’s body.

  “Do you know what that is, Dee?”

  “No, Master.”

  “Good.”

  He had worked with a flogger and a paddle before, but the feel of the tawse was different, so he started slow. A light slap on Delia’s ass at first, the leather straps making a disproportionately loud noise. She seemed more startled than pained, so he leaned harder into the next one. The gratifying crack of the leather and Delia’s moan made him want to cheer.

  He swung again, aiming for an upper thigh this time, and Delia cried out, tipping forward on her toes, twisting at the wrists as they took more of her weight. Her writhing made it more difficult to aim the next blow, but he lined it up carefully and laid a matching stripe on her other thigh.

  That earned a scream. But not a safeword. He was still learning her limits, but he had a comfort level too. The next few strikes were no harder, and it seemed to work well. Another few, and then he switched to a rain of quick, peppery pops against the already reddened skin of her hindquarters. Never the same place twice, angling the tawse so the tip rather than the flat delivered the hit.

  He stopped after a dozen or so of those love taps, not wanting to bruise her too much, too soon. Her heavy breathing and the subtle movement of her hips reminded him how hard he was, and the familiar wave of guilt passed over him. He let it hit, the conditioned twinge of conscience at the way her pain turned him on. And this time, he let it go. He finally believed she was as aroused as he was. And what’s more, the pixie sub was turned on too—licking her lips, her pupils big, her weight shifting from one side to the other as she watched the scene.

  It was okay. Okay for them all to like this so much. Okay for him to like this so much.

  “Mara, get me that other thing, the one you were admiring, from the bottom drawer. The laminated wood.” He pointed, and she speed-walked to retrieve the paddle she clearly remembered as well as he did. He wanted something he could really let loose with, something he was familiar with. Once Mara put it in his hand, he hefted it, testing the feel. This was stiffer and slimmer than the paddle they’d used at home, but it was close enough.

  He’d been practicing a thing secretly, and now he bounced on his toes, anticipating Delia’s reaction. He gave her a few light pats, letting her feel the wood as he checked his range. Then he drew back and whipped the paddle toward her upper thigh, so fast it whistled through the air. The way she gasped in anticipation was a split second of pure delight for him, almost better than the reaction when the blow popped off her skin with a slightly anticlimactic whack. He aimed for the other side, pulling the speed at the last moment again, letting her fear dissipate over the next few strokes.

  Then once she’d relaxed, apparently convincing herself the toy was easy to handle, he let it rip. Right at the middle of one ass cheek, full speed ahead, a glorious slice of evil, and Delia screamed.

  He couldn’t help himself. He fist-pumped.

  Mara totally saw him. She gave him a Seriously, dude? kind of look. Almost, but not quite, a side-eye. But he hardly even cared. Winding up, he let another blow fly, yanking another equally satisfying wail from his lovely wife. Oh, it was sweet, when the red streaked her creamy skin, and her breathing came hot and heavy and full of her effort to process the pain he’d inflicted.

  “Your ass looks gorgeous, Dee.”

  When she didn’t answer with words, only a whimper, he walked around to look at her. She was sagging on the restraints and her face was deeply flushed. Daniel reached between her legs and made an instinctive soothing noise as he stroked his fingers along her slit. She was drenched.

  At his touch, Delia’s noise was anything but soothing. She moaned like a wild animal and came back to life, thrusting at his hand in a mindless, ancient rhythm.

  He thought it was probably time to take things to the next level.

  “Be still, Dee. Mara, come help me take her down.”

  Mara was there in an instant, and looked as though she hadn’t been bored at all in the interim. She unclipped Delia efficiently and held her firmly at the waist while she regained her balance, then let go and waited in her parade rest again.

  Delia stood, sides heaving, trembling, as if she’d just run a marathon. He was struck by the contrast between them, the flushed blonde and the pale, black-haired girl. Their coloring was dramatically different, but their builds were similar enough that he suspected they could share clothes if they wanted to. They reminded him of something, and it finally came to him.

  “Snow White and Rose Red . . .”

  Delia turned toward his voice. “Master?”

  He smiled as he approached her and slipped the blindfold off over her head, working it free of her ponytail. “You two look like Snow White and Rose Red.”

  “I can’t remember that one.” She blinked her eyes back into focus. “Master.”

  “I don’t remember the whole thing either. I’ll look it up later. Come this way.” He led her to the couch and sat down, spreading his legs and turning her around between them. Coaxing her to sit with her back to his chest, he looped his arms under hers and used his feet to hold her legs at the ankles. Then he nodded at Mara.

  “Go get the thing out of the pitcher now.”

  She was there and back in seconds, bearing the chilled dildo. She knelt in front of them, holding it, awaiting further instructions he was only too happy to give. He held one hand out for the toy, keeping a firm grip on Delia with the other as he took it.

  “Okay, let’s take some clamps off.”

  “Fuck!”

  He and Mara both laughed at Delia’s reaction. He had used much milder clamps on her nipples before, cord nooses that seemed more for decoration than anything else. But even those hurt her more coming off than going on. With the butterfly clips, he could only imagine the pain she would be in for. Which was why he had taken the proactive measure of holding her down. For her own good, really. Philanthropy in action.

  “First one.”

  “No no no, just give me a minute, just—”

  “Mara, do it now.”

  “Fuuuuuuuck!”

  Mara had flicked the clamp off in one expert motion, and the reaction hit Delia’s body a second later. It felt like holding a live wire, and he wanted to chortle with glee at the fact that this fabulous woman actually let him have this much leeway with her body. The pain was a gift, only the outward sign, not even the most important part. It was the absolute trust—she would let him restrain her, exposed, while she endured these sweet agonies—that drove him crazy every damn time.

  When he slid the icy dildo over the tortured flesh, all the air hissed out of her like a punctured tire. Truly amazing. Her effort to writhe away from the cold only drove her closer to him. She wasn’t getting away that easily.

  “Second one. Hold still, Dee. We’re not done yet.”

  He nodded at Mara again, and she plucked the second clamp away. He shifted the cold glass to the other side. Lather, rinse, repeat.

  “Owwwwwwwww ow ow ow!”

  “Whiny brat.”

  “Owoooooch!”

  Daniel looked down at Mara, whose eyes held a devilish glint as she contemplated the third clamp. He could see the interest, the hunger in her expression. He was nearing the limits of his own willpower, but it might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

  He passed the dildo down to her, and she glanced at him for permission before sliding it over Delia’s clit, skirting the metal clamp. Delia shivered as the chilled glass slid along her slippery, overheated pussy. When Mara pushed the tip inside her, Danie
l felt her breathing go thready again, her body tighten against his chest. A handful of shallow thrusts had her keening; he didn’t know if it was from the penetration or the cold, but he lacked the remaining stamina to experiment any further.

  “Okay, take it out. Stand up, whiny brat. You stay there, bonus sub.”

  Mara pulled the dildo away with obvious reluctance. Delia stood on shaking legs and Daniel quickly unfastened his jeans, shoving them down far enough to free his cock. He pulled her back down with one hand and lined himself up with the other, then pressed on her hips until she had slid down the length of his cock and seated herself in his lap.

  Her pussy was cold only for a second, then warmed around him to a degree he almost couldn’t bear. She was still facing away from him, and he almost regretted not making her turn around, but he couldn’t stand the thought of not being inside her for even the few seconds that would take to accomplish. It felt too good to give up now.

  The couch was the perfect height, nice and low. Delia’s legs were long enough to reach the floor on either side of his lap, giving her leverage.

  “Ride me,” he commanded, as if she would do anything else. “But slowly.”

  Reaching forward, he brushed his palms over her distended nipples, chuckling as she reacted by pushing into his hands and his lap at once. She was so wet and hot he felt like he might melt into her body, and her cunt gripped him in greedy spasms like it did when she was about to climax.

  “Oh, you want to come, don’t you?”

  “Please, Master!”

  So few words, so much expressed in them. And so much expression too in the huge, dark-brown eyes of Rose Red, who still knelt by their feet. Impish smile with a quick and clever tongue.

  “Let’s get her endorphins nice and confused, Mara.” With control he didn’t know he possessed, Daniel pressed Delia’s roving hips to a halt, stilling her body as he spread her legs even wider with his own. “Play with her clit. Get her hot.”

  “May I use my tongue, M—”