Natural Law

by Joey W. Hill

  "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 k
new 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 t
he 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 oil 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.