Nature Of Desire: Mirror Of The Soul

by Joey W. Hill

  She leaned back into him, sliding her buttocks this time deliberately against him, reaching up her arms to wind them around his neck. “We have at least another five minutes before Roland is in true agony.”

  She was in agony right now, her body screaming for his, intensified by his anticipation of her fears, her needs. I already took care of that.

  Catching her by the throat, he drew her to her toes, pinning her against him to cup his other hand over her mound. She made a sound of desperate pleasure, but he held her still with his greater strength.

  “No, angel.” He breathed hoarsely into her ear. Let her feel the rock-hard presence of him. “When I take you tonight, it will be when you’re screaming for my cock, wherever I want to put it. When you don’t care who hears you call me Master.”

  He’d never been this demanding with her. Something had shifted between them. She realized the significance of that, wondered if it had to do with their current situation, the fact he’d likely never had a woman who was submissive to him but Mistress to others. He was making his territorial claims clear. Or perhaps it was all that they had experienced in the past few days together. It should have offended or even frightened her, but some odd shifting of her own had happened over the past couple of days. Her mind was still exploring all the meanings, not judging so much as experiencing the way that felt to her. And it was not unpleasant, especially with him now nibbling his way down the line of her shoulder.

  “I can’t keep up with your shifts between charm and testosterone,” she managed. Closed her eyes as his hands kept up their kneading at her breasts. Testing him, she reopened them, lowered her hands to her pussy, watched him watch as she rubbed herself there, building her sensation under his intense golden gaze.

  “You get the whole package, angel.” He caught her hand, pulled it back behind her while he anchored her against him by maintaining his hold on her throat, jutting out her breasts in their beautiful jewels. He laid her hand on him, on his enormous need. “All of it.”

  * * * * *

  Marguerite kept the outfit on. When she came back to the pool Tyler left her side, but with a lingering kiss to the sensitive inside of her wrist and a thorough look over her body, the breasts only adorned in jewels. It was a look that made the nipples tighten again, showing her arousal to the others.

  Fortunately, it was difficult to be self-conscious given what else was going on around the pool.

  Mac was supine in a lounge chair as Violet sat upon him backwards, straddling his upper abdomen, her fingers playing up and down his fully erect cock while she watched Roland and Leila. Mac’s fingers were locked to the top slat of the chair, his wrists held there by straps. His feet were on the ground just on either side of the end of the chair due to his height, his ankles attached to the legs with the same type of straps, keeping his thighs open to everyone’s view, the sizeable testicles, thick cock. The upper part of the chair was raised to a shallow angle so he could clearly see and be stimulated by Leila and Roland as well.

  Leila was where Marguerite had left her, on her back, her head on a pillow, straddled by Roland’s knees and spread thighs. She had her chin tilted up to give her better ability to take him more deeply down her throat and was currently doing so with enthusiasm. Her clit and labia were slick with excitement, her legs spread, obviously at Joseph’s behest, since he reclined on a chair just between her feet, one hand dangled off the chair to caress her ankle. Roland’s thighs were trembling, his body gleaming with sweat, suggesting Leila had followed Marguerite’s direction faithfully.

  “She’s very well trained,” Marguerite complimented Tyler. He inclined his head. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses and sat down several yards away from the tableau. Something about the way he looked, the sensual mouth still, the jawline emphasized by the concealment of his eyes, made her own state of arousal in the moment more intense.

  “How many times has she had to stop?” she asked Joseph.

  The man glanced up, his eyes moving from her face down her body and back up. He had to forcibly snap his jaw closed, but did so quickly when Tyler made a quiet noise and shifted to cross his ankle over his opposite knee. “Three times.”

  Marguerite tilted her head, taking Tyler into her peripheral vision. Another strange situation. As a Mistress at The Zone, she was used to the admiring but respectful glances of other Masters, the line clearly drawn in the sand, enforced by their known preferences. In this situation, Tyler’s obvious claim on her as a Master had blurred those lines. Joseph had stepped over it with his more thorough regard. He had looked at her as he might a submissive. Tyler’s subtle though clear message had redrawn the line firmly. His submissive she might be, but to all other men she was to be treated as a Mistress. She stood a moment, absorbing that interesting change in her status, wondering if she should feel insulted by his championing. But then she drew in her breath, inhaling the environment of sex and power, control and trust and knew that in their world, lines had to be made clear. They walked close to the primitive line of conquering, taking, the civilized posturings of consent just shadows at their backs, easily forgotten if those lines got confusing.

  “Good. He’s well aroused then. Master Joseph, would you please ask Leila to keep Roland in her mouth, but she should no longer suck or lick him. I want her to hold him without moving.”

  He gave the order and Leila stopped while Roland’s breath rasped erratically.

  “I would like to reward your slave by making her come. May I have the pleasure?”

  Whatever the assembled had been expecting, it was not that. She could tell by the surprise on Joseph’s face, the slight lifting of Tyler’s brow, the interest in Mac’s expression. Only Violet’s unwavering attention was unaffected, but with respect to that one, Marguerite knew she was being judged and measured. From Mac’s occasional concerned glance in his Mistress’s direction, she knew she wasn’t the only one noticing it.

  “It will be our pleasure to watch. A gift to us all.” Joseph nodded.

  Because of her request, all the men in the room were now riveted by the tableau, even Roland putting his head at an angle where he could try his best to see as much as possible. She felt the male power wash over her like magical energy, an energy increased by the connection she felt with Violet in this moment despite their differences. Two Mistresses in full command of the subs there. And, in a peculiar way, in command of the two Masters, with the power a woman fully encompassed in her sexual self could hold over anything male within distance. After all, there were not many myths about powerful Queens being brought to their knees by the sexual charisma of an island sorcerer, or male sirens singing a female captain to her doom.

  Marguerite squatted next to Leila’s thigh and Roland’s hips. When she spread out her knees to balance herself, she knew the position would tighten the fabric over her ass in a seductive way. Tyler’s angle of vision was behind her though she’d settled far enough to the right he could easily see Leila’s wet pussy between her body and Joseph. It was new, being conscious of where he was, wanting to be sure everything she did was at an angle where he could see her actions and be stimulated by them.

  Leila watched her, her mouth stretched and still over Roland’s stiff cock. His flat stomach moved erratically above her forehead, reflecting how stimulated he was. There was power in this moment as well. While not objecting to it, if Leila had her druthers Marguerite suspected she would prefer not to have Marguerite bringing her to orgasm. Marguerite respected her and what she had done for Tyler. But this moment wasn’t about civility. Tyler was hers now.

  She’d selected a vibrating plug as well as a standard vibrator from Tyler’s well-stocked toy room. Even then she’d been very conscious of the way he watched her. As she’d picked up the different ones, run her fingers along the smooth flared heads to gauge the width of the base she wanted and chosen an oil lubricant that had an exotic scent like sex, his attention had been as tactile as his caresses.

  Leila’s eyes shifted as she set both a
side. Marguerite reached forward, laid one hand on the small of Roland’s back, the upper curve of his muscular buttock. “How are you, Roland?”

  “Ready to serve you, Mistress.” His voice was hoarse.

  “She sucked your cock well for me, didn’t she?”

  “Christ, yes. Mistress,” he added hastily.

  Laying her hand on Leila’s breast, she cupped it, rubbed the nipple, her gaze going to its fullness, its perfection. “I’m going to make her come. You won’t come, though. That will be your gift to me, when I allow it. You will listen to her come, feel her hot breath panting against the head of your cock, feel the back of her throat tremble against you when she lets go, the scrape of her teeth as she fights not to bite down and you will wait. Wait until I’m ready for you to explode at my command.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

  “Good.” Leila’s body was lifting to her touch, her back curving as Marguerite skillfully pinched the nipple, squeezed the hard tip. At the same time, her fingers curled around Roland’s left buttock, nails tickling the fine hairs in the crease. Watching the muscles ripple along his back, bunched and restrained, trying not to upset the flower arrangement, was as much of a pleasure as seeing Leila’s hips press down and then lift up, an involuntary plea to be touched between her legs.

  “God, but you do have beautiful tits.” Marguerite used the crude male word, her voice sensual and soft. “I remember one night when Tyler made you slip off the straps of your top and sit bare-breasted in the booth next to him, allowing all the Masters and Mistresses walking by the opportunity to enjoy looking at them. He made you cup them in your hands, play with the nipples until you were arched back in the booth, gasping. At long last he put his hand beneath the table and just a moment later you came. Moaning, unable to stop your cries, orgasm and embarrassment both coloring your fair skin. You’d been apprehensive about submitting to a Master’s desire to exhibit you publicly for His pleasure, and he was quite ruthlessly helping you get past that fear. Helping you discover the heightened pleasure of having others watch you submit to him.

  “I won’t ask you if you want me to touch your pussy, Leila.” She dug her nails into the plump curve, just a little, to heighten sensation. “Because I want to do so and this isn’t about your choice. It is mine and Master Joseph’s. He wants to see a woman’s hand on his slave’s cunt, bringing her gushing forth.”

  Leila’s throat worked on a swallow of desperate arousal. Roland made a noise of equal need at the involuntary pressure. Walking her fingers down Leila’s stomach, Marguerite caressed her navel piercing, tugged on it and earned another writhing of pleasure from the woman. When she moved down to stroke her mound, she parted two fingers so they bypassed the clit and followed the labia, played around the opening, catching in the piercing there as Leila’s legs jerked.

  Joseph extended his long legs and planted his feet inside of her knees, his dress shoes nudging, pushing her open even wider, holding her as Marguerite worked the wetness, dipped there, drew through it, using her nails on the sensitive outer edges here as well. Another strangled sound of desire caught her attention and she deliberately stilled her touch to watch, teasing Leila.

  Violet was stroking Mac’s cock with stronger intent, forefinger and thumb tight on him, moving up and down the velvety rock-hard shaft as the powerful upper body strained, arched. He obviously could have reduced the lounger to matchsticks, but it was his Mistress’s bonds that held him. His jaw was held tight, his eyes riveted on Marguerite and Leila, as Violet commanded.

  “Don’t take your eyes from them, Mackenzie. Feel my soaked pussy against your stomach, know you’ll come in front of them all to earn the right to fuck it.”

  And then there was Tyler. Marguerite turned her head for just a moment and found he was now leaned forward on his lounger, a foot on either side of the footrest, his fingers loosely dangled between his knees. The sunglasses hid his eyes, but his very posture suggested she had his full attention. At her regard, he removed the glasses, let her see the warm gold color that coated her in his heat, reminding her of that night he had referenced earlier, when the heat of his come had coated her back, his pleasure her only garment. “Make her come for me, angel,” he murmured. “Make her come for all of us.”

  Her own cunt tightened like a fist around a hard shudder of response. It was the first command he’d given her, Master to Mistress. Despite his stated intention not to command her as Mistress, he was pure Master, after all. The shudder was so strong her knees trembled and she had to take one to the ground. He saw it all, his eyes coursing down, lingering on her breasts and her ass in a way that made no attempt to disguise his pure lust for her. To take her, to have her. Everything in his expression made it clear that no matter what began the evening’s entertainment or what happened during, it would end with him buried to the hilt in her. She could imagine him thrusting into her in his big bed, her body pushed deep into the mattress, sinking beneath his while everything inside her rose up to meet him, give him her response, her screams. She’d never been a screamer until she met Tyler. Never made more than a gasp of sound when she had an orgasm. He pulled it all from deep within her, let her speak her pleasure and pain where always before it had been expressed in frustrated silence. As he had brought forth her cries of pleasure, so she offered Leila’s to him now.

  Looking back down, she moved her touch directly over Leila’s clit, snugged her knuckles down on either side of it and began to manipulate it in slow motions, working the piercing even as she allowed her thumb to continue to play in the opening, rub the lips. Leila’s mouth had opened wide, her body surging up, which put Roland’s cock deeper into her, her breaths coming more harshly. Marguerite could see her tongue flicking against the underside of his cock, not intentionally or with any rhythm, just as a function of her gasping breaths. Marguerite lifted her other hand from Roland’s ass, picked up the anal plug and switched hands on Leila to deftly insert the thick plug into her soaked pussy. Leila bucked, moaning. Now Joseph let out a low growl of appreciation. Marguerite flicked her attention over him briefly to see him nicely prominent against his slacks. She was sure Leila would be on her knees sucking that cock before the night was over. He’d build her up again in no time, then lay her over the bed and fuck her from behind while she bit down on the bedcovers, crying out her need. The glitter of his eyes, the way his eyes lingered on her movements, told Marguerite he was the kind of Dominant that enjoyed it most that way. That sense of total control, the helpless pleasure of his sub being on her knees or taken from behind, completely at his mercy. She felt the sexual Latino energy pouring off him and imagined him crooning to her in his native language. Urging her to suck him with her mouth, draw him deeper into her pussy, take all of him as Marguerite had taken Tyler in the kitchen on her knees. Holding on to his thighs, savoring every drop of him, wishing he could be buried in all of her empty spaces at once.

  She thrust in and out as Leila’s muscles clamped on the plug, stroking it. Marguerite slid it from her on a downward stroke, replaced it smoothly with two of her fingers. Plunged deep into her, deeper than the plug could go, watching her angle so her nails would not cause the woman any discomfort. There was a delicate art to it, one that took practice, particularly with an aroused body. Leila gasped in pleasurable shock at the invasion. Marguerite ruthlessly brought her thumb back into play on her clit. “You’re going to come for me, Leila,” she said low, an inexorable demand. “Make these men’s cocks so hard, all of them thinking about fucking you, using you, making you come again and again.”

  Roland was twitching, unable to stop his movements against Leila since she could not stop the inadvertent stimulation of her mouth on him. Taking the now well-lubricated plug, Marguerite pushed it against his ass.

  It sunk into him, into an ass conditioned to take a Mistress’s Will. There were many advantages to a seasoned slave. Not that she didn’t intend to break in a virgin sub eventually, for Tyler had opened her eyes to the potential pleasure.
In fact, he’d made her wonder since then what it would have been like to have been Brendan’s first.

  However, she had a deep appreciation for the Mistress who trained a sub so well for the pleasure of her successors. Or Master, she thought, thinking of the great pleasure the woman beneath her hand was offering to them all, a result of Tyler’s tutelage. Leila’s insides were slick and hot and Marguerite liked the feel of the pussy lips, the hardness of her mound pushing insistently against her knuckles.

  “Oh, Jesus…” Roland’s guttural growl, indicating that he was near breaking, was music to her as she felt Leila’s pussy rippling, rippling… “Mistress—”

  “Now, both of you.” Marguerite’s voice was strong and sure, commanding. “Come for us. Roland, pour yourself into Leila’s mouth. And you.” She rubbed the clit in circles, fast now, ruthless. “Let me feel that sweet pussy clamp down on a woman’s fingers. Come, both of you.”

  Roland’s hips lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped, shoving Leila’s head back into the pillow, the vibrating plug working its magic in his ass, his movements so forceful his testicles flailed against Leila’s chin, the upper part of her neck. Her back bowed up, the weight of her breasts quivering forward as her mouth opened wider, taking him deep as a scream erupted around him, vibrated on him the way her pussy was violently vibrating against Marguerite’s touch, the fingers deep within her.

  Another sound of release joined theirs and Marguerite divided her attention to see Violet cover Mac with a hand towel as his cock pulsed, his powerful body bowed up, the muscles in his thighs knotting as she whispered the command.

  “Come for me, Mackenzie.”

  His eyes had become almost glassy in the effort to keep his gaze on Leila, Marguerite and Roland as she’d commanded. Their visual stimulation obviously had intensified the impending climax, but now in willful disobedience, he shifted his gaze to his Mistress, his eyes on the line of her back, bared in the bikini she wore so that his gaze coursed over her spine, the nape of her neck, her swept-up hair. The chair lifted, thudded back against the concrete in a rhythm that bucked Violet against him as if she were riding a bronc. Her thighs tightening accordingly, attuned completely to the big male animal beneath her, his strength and savagery all hers to command.