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She had the sultry voice of a siren, purring out the dire threats. When she caught his hair, yanked him up by it, Troy's face showed the same emotions Madison had seen when he was underneath the chair. Total acceptance and devotion, but now it was coupled with aggressive desire. His eyes sparked at her. "It's always your ass, Mistress."
She gave his hair another rough tug. "Talking without permission. You never learn. One more word, and I'll be plugging your mouth and ass for the duration of the night."
Gripping his buttock, she must have probed deeper, because a ripple of reaction went through his body, his thighs tensing, stomach contracting.
"You greased yourself up for your little teacher, just in case." Her gaze locked with his. "And now you'll pay the price for that."
Whatever she did had Troy's facial features constricting. Shale put her hand on his stomach, a steadying force, and Madison heard her soft whisper, "Hold on to my shoulder, Troy."
The tender order in the midst of a humiliating punishment had a lump coming to Madison's throat as Troy's face contorted. He grabbed Shale's shoulder as her stimulation forced the climax that made his thighs tremble violently, his hips jerk. If he hadn't been wearing a condom, the semen would have fountained out of his cock. As it was, Madison saw it fill the tip, spread out over the head. He groaned, chin dropping down to his chest as Shale wrested the last drop from him, ruthless in her intent, while her hand stayed firm and steady on his upper abdomen. She'd shifted closer so he was leaning against her, a loose embrace that looked anything but ruthless.
When he was done, his breathing labored, she held him, the two of them swaying together. Madison could tell even in his post-climactic stupor, Troy was trying to keep his whole weight off her, as cognizant of her care as she was of his. It was beautiful, in a way she realized most people wouldn't recognize, seeing only the graphic representation of sex, not all the complex interplay of trust and intimacy.
In time, he was able to straighten. "All right," Shale said quietly. "Let's get you out of this chair. Then I want you to clean up and get dressed."
His minute shifting during the climax had pushed the chair back against his ankles. He'd need help adjusting it to get free, but when Shale started to bend, his arms tightened around her.
Madison glanced up at Logan. "May I help?"
He gave her a significant look. "That would be appropriate."
Troy didn't want his Mistress bending before him. And Madison had recognized it, volunteered to help. Which not only bemused her but also explained that potent look from Logan. Her insight had pleased him, which gave her a ridiculous glow.
Was this the track that Troy and Shale had followed to get to where they were? Learning to embrace all the permutations of Dominant and submissive in themselves, until it was just an instinct one followed, like breathing? Instincts that twined together into the tightly knit relationship, give-and-take, she'd just seen?
As she moved in Troy's direction, Madison kept following that instinct. She lowered her gaze and addressed Shale. "May I help, Mistress?"
"Yes, you may. Hold the chair steady while I hold him. No argument," she said sharply.
Madison realized that last was directed at Troy. Shale latched on to his arm, the other hand on his hip. "You're shaking," she said. "I'm not going to let my property get damaged because of some misguided I-can-do-it-myself testosterone surge."
Troy's lips twisted in a rebellious moue, those eyes flashing again, but he complied, letting Madison hold the chair steady as he stepped out of it, his Mistress's balancing hand on him until he was free. Then she gave him a little push toward his clothes and turned toward Logan.
"An enjoyable evening. Shorter than I'd expected, but not you, I think."
Logan gave Shale a look that suggested he would have preferred her not to say that. From the curve of Shale's lips, she knew it. The Mistress glanced down at Madison. "Don't make it too easy on him. Isn't a woman alive who doesn't enjoy seeing him break a sweat."
She moved toward Troy. He'd hiked his jeans back on and was about to don the T-shirt. She took it away from him, reaching up to caress his jaw before she leaned in to him for a kiss. Madison watched how Troy caught her waist. His arm banded around her as the kiss deepened. All his male strength was unleashed in a moment that was now more about the two of them as lovers, not just Dom/sub.
When Shale at last eased back, her eyes full of Troy, Madison realized she was aching all the way down to the bottom of her scarred heart.
"I love you," Shale whispered. "Always."
"Same goes, Mistress," he responded. Madison thought he was oblivious to anyone else in the room. Though the session was technically ended, it was clear he was fully hers.
Shale gave him a tap, tilted her head toward Logan, a reminder. Troy's eyes cleared and he turned toward the other Dom, though his arm remained around Shale. "Thank you for my training, Master Logan," Troy said formally. Then his gaze shifted to Madison, still folded on her knees on the floor by the child's chair. "And thank you for your discipline, Miss Fine."
A tiny smile played around his lips, telling her he'd probably tease her about that next time they saw each other. Shale had mentioned him seeing Logan tomorrow. Madison hoped that meant Troy would still be working at the hardware store, that it hadn't been only about his training. Since he'd told her he was buried under student loans, she figured it likely.
The couple left them, their departure covered by the air-conditioning. The fan turned on like a windy sigh, the building vibrating as it always did when the unit engaged.
The spotlight highlighted the chairs where she knelt next to them, Logan still in the shadows. He pulled a tall stool away from the workbench, slid a hip on it, and pointed to that cushion beside him.
Rising to her feet, she made it there on unsteady legs, sank back down, looking up at him. "At times, I thought she was really mad at him. But she wasn't, was she?"
"No." He reached down, caressed her face. It felt right, sitting at his knee, him touching her. "A responsible Dominant would never discipline her sub physically when she's truly angry." A smile touched his mouth. "Being female, Shale has far more potent ways of punishing Troy when she's actually pissed at him. Passive-aggressive sarcasm, silent treatment, the use of those dreaded two words, 'I'm fine.' Believe it or not, the boy has a bit of a temper on him as well. He can hold his own with her when they disagree."
She did believe it. She'd seen it in the stubborn set of his lips, that quick flash in the eyes. A couple weeks ago, that wouldn't have made sense to her, hard to reconcile with his eagerness to be treated as a submissive, willing to play a naughty schoolboy and be spanked, but after tonight it did. She just wasn't sure she could put the comprehension of it into actual words. Any more than she could the feelings inside herself.
