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“Yes, Mistress,” she murmured obediently.
“Do you understand our new game?”
This time there was hesitation. “I think so, Mistress.”
“Tell me what the game is. There will be no punishment if you’re wrong.” As if to prove what she’d just said, Faith ran her palm down Malvia’s exposed flesh, fingers bumping over a tight nipple before cupping one tit.
Malvia gasped, a soft, quiet sound that lifted her breasts and brought attention to her softly parted lips.
Benson closed his eyes, looking away.
“Instead of finding our own partners, and negotiating our own scenes, you’ve assigned us partners and things to do. Things to try.”
“Correct. But it’s your choice to participate.” Faith patted Malvia’s breast after releasing it.
Malvia’s lips tipped up. “Not really. If we don’t play, we have to leave the club.”
Benson stopped himself from letting out a wry chuckle. Malvia was a strong personality, and didn’t hold back her thoughts or opinions unless she was deep—dangerously deep—into her submission.
“And that is a choice.” Faith’s voice was hard, her hand visibly tightening around Malvia’s neck.
Malvia whimpered, a soft, needy sound.
Faith bent and pressed a kiss to Malvia’s lips, then released her throat. Malvia returned to her previous position, back straight, chin down, eyes lowered.
“Spread your legs wider, girl,” Faith barked.
Malvia spread her knees, the robe sliding off her rounded thighs. It was too dark for him to see her sex, but still he looked away, telling himself it was to give her privacy.
“We have an audience.” Faith untied the sash of the robe, which was holding the fabric bunched around her waist. Malvia dropped her arms. The robe fell away, leaving her nude except for a few gold waist chains that crossed her abdomen just below her bellybutton.
“You’ve reached a new level of service submission, nearly reaching the status of slave,” Faith praised.
Benson’s jaw clenched.
Faith went on. “Submitting whenever, however, and to whomever wants you.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“I’m going to blindfold you and then let our observer use you.”
At that, Benson moved, closing the remaining distance, one hand outstretched to stop Faith.
“Would you like to be used? Not pleasured. Not played with. Used.”
“Yes, please, Mistress,” Malvia breathed.
“And what about the game?”
Malvia stilled in what seemed like confusion. “I’ll…I’m happy to be submit fully to my game partner.”
“No matter who they are, or what you’re expected to do?”
“I want to be used,” Malvia breathed.
God damn it. Benson stared down a Malvia’s soft, naked body. Her perfect, willing submission was like a siren’s song. He wanted to touch her.
More than that, he wanted to do exactly what she’d just said.
