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She took a breath. "What he did to Siren and the women in this room was wrong, but he knows that. Which is why he's trying to make amends. You had the right not to come today. To refuse those amends. But you did not have the right to come here and attack him. So I want you to leave, Mistress Tia. Go contemplate what true repentance is. And look up the meaning of grace while you're at it."
Tia's chair scraped back and she rose. A tense silence reigned as Marius saw the legs and feet of both women in a squared-off position. Then Tia's closed-toe black stilettos changed direction as she claimed her purse off the back of the chair.
"I'll see you at the club, Mistress Tia," Regina said formally. "Thank you for coming."
A bitten-off reply, and the woman was leaving, her heels clicking across the floor. Reg
ina waited a beat, then trailed her fingers over the juncture between Marius's bare shoulder and neck. "The ladies are waiting for you to serve them tea," she said in a neutral tone.
"Yes, Mistress." He bit his lip, but couldn't not say it. "You didn't need to interfere with that. It was okay."
She squatted, cupping his jaw to bring his face up to meet her gaze. He was right. She was angry enough to spit nails, but there was a tenderness in her eyes that made him swallow and want to look away for reasons that had nothing to do with protocol.
"Who decides upon your proper care and discipline, Duncan?" Her gaze held his in a lock, and what he saw in it made his stomach do a flop.
"You, Mistress."
"That is correct. Tia disrespected me in a manner that was unacceptable to me, and to the other Dommes here. Not that I owe you an explanation. Do I?"
"No, Mistress."
She nodded. "I'll punish you later to help you remember that. For now, resume your duties."
The other women had remained silent until Tia's departure, which left him uncertain of whether they had supported Tia's action or disapproved of Regina's. Until Marguerite spoke.
"Ladies, you'll find we've provided four types of tea for your enjoyment. I encourage you to sample them all, but your server will explain to you what they are so you'll know what might best suit your preferences. He'll also explain how particular hors d'oeuvres will bring out their flavor. Marius?"
She had coached him closely on the differences between the teas, how their origins and preparation impacted the taste; which ones could be enhanced by milk and sweeteners, or the foods, as she'd just said. His Mistress rose to her feet, tugging his hair, and he took a steadying breath. Right. Time to get back to it.
But Lyda had something to say first. "Lady Regina," she said. "It appears your sub's trousers are soiled from his thorough clean-up of the floor. Might he discard them? And I particularly like being served by a barefoot slave."
Marius lifted his head and saw his Mistress's eyes light with warmth at her friend's way of switching things to a better footing. A wave of sensual laughter ran through the room and expectant eyes turned to Regina.
"An excellent point, Mistress Lyda. Marius, remove shoes, socks and trousers and put them here beside me."
"Not everything?" Lisette queried, amused disappointment in her voice. The Domme in her well-tended sixties had her dyed blond hair drawn back in a smooth chignon that worked well with the snug skirt and blouse she'd worn. She'd given Marius particularly thorough workouts in the past.
"Erect appendages knocking over tea cups or dipping into sugar bowls don't meet health code requirements," Marguerite said demurely. The comment set off peals of laughter, which broke into resumed conversations and restored the earlier mood.
He rose, removed the trousers, socks and shoes, and brought them to his Mistress, crossing the ground in his dark, snug brief shorts only. The cock harness beneath it didn't do a great job minimizing his reaction to his Mistress's command, which only added fuel to the mirth over Marguerite's comment. A wolf whistle came from one of the tables. He was a bit mortified to find himself blushing, something he never did, but it seemed to give all of them pleasure.
His Mistress closed one hand over his on the clothes, and reached up to hook her fingers in his collar, which she'd of course required him to wear today. She increased her grip on his throat, a move that shot straight to his cock.
"Sweet boy," she murmured, and he had all he needed to proceed. Her approval.
Over the next two hours, he worked hard to meet their needs. They were demanding, keeping him busy. But unlike Tia, there was no pettiness or hostility. It humbled him, the respect they were showing his Mistress, and the kindness they were offering him.
Forgiveness. It was a balm over the raw place Tia had opened, and they were all administering it, with every even-handed command and some sparse but sincere praise when he performed to their expectations. It made him work all the harder for them. When they at last adjourned to take the party to the club, he was worried, but even more determined to do whatever Regina would require of him, to show her and these Mistresses who he truly was, what kind of sub he could be for Regina.
He'd worked quickly to handle clean up, which went faster than he expected because he found out Marguerite had excused him from dish duty. With a wink and quick grin, Chloe had shooed him off, explaining that the Mistress of Tea Leaves hadn't gone easy on him by letting him out of the task.
"Washing her delicate tea sets requires special training. It's a huge badge of honor, to be trusted with it. She still does certain ones herself."
So he took himself off to The Zone. The Mistresses, including his own, had gone on ahead, carpooling to keep a festive atmosphere. Once there, though, he was more relieved than expected to find Regina waiting for him in the foyer. Maybe she'd known he would feel somewhat uptight about crossing the threshold for the first time since Siren had trapped him in the cage. He could do it; it was just nice to see her there.
She pressed herself to him for a warm kiss, reassuring him and restoking his confidence with one gesture. "Follow me," she said, and turned to lead the way.
She brought him to the main playroom. "Strip," she commanded, and pointed to a bench with adjustable side pieces. "Then lay down on that, face up."
