Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Chapter 17

*****

 

Michael

James stands, his back to the fire, gazing into space. Charlotte enters dressed, not exactly provocatively but…

She’s touched up her make-up…

Bare feet…

The sweater she wears is warm enough for the weather, but low-cut, with a hint of cleavage. She glances down to me on the couch, then to him. “Master, are you busy with anything right now?”

He smiles, a casual expression. “Not particularly, Charlotte. What’s on your mind?”

She moves closer to him, looking up into his face, then she drops her head, looking down. Her hair, released from the usual ponytail hangs long and loose, swaying to her waist.

Lol!

Pretty transparent intentions…

My cock stirs…

How the fuck does she do that?

I set my book to one side. It wasn’t holding my attention anyway. Fun and frolics with my wife and my friend sounds much more promising. Then I shift my position a little; easing the pressure as my pants grow tight…

But James doesn’t react as I expect. “I’m a little tired, Charlotte.”

She moves close to him, laying her fingers on his chest, stroking downward over his shirt. She stops short of his belt, but her hands linger. “If you’re tired, Master, I could do most of the work. You can just lie back. I’ll…”

He lifts her hands away, kissing the fingers. “Later perhaps.”

Her postures changes. It’s subtle, but it’s there. What looked like submission turns to resignation. “Alright, Master.”

James… not in the mood?

… Not in the mood for Charlotte?

And now I think about it…

When was the last time he started something?

Charlotte rarely initiates sex or love-making with James, although she does with me….

Trying to be a good sub…

Yeah… right…

… Normally she waits for his signal…

Her Dom’s signal…

…. And goes along with whatever he has in mind…

When did he last start something?

I rack my brain…

Days?

Weeks?

I’d not realised…

… but she has…

What’s going on?

?

Charlotte?

he’s not falling out of

No…

She’s his world….

What then?

?

Aaahhh…

Fucking obvious….

His daughter…

suffering

trying to

in the

Time to step in…

gently, behind her back, then in a voice loud enough for James to hear. “Your Master expects

breath catches. James’ eyes meet mine and his mouth

Pupils dilating…

That’s doing it…

gaze follows her. “That’s better,” I say, backing

should be naked, Charlotte,”

swinging, hands moving from the flat of her thighs to the hem of her pullover. I beat her to it. Fisting one hand into her

her head. She’s not wearing a bra and her skirt I now realise, is a wrap-around, held in place with a couple of buttons and no more. Slipping

As she slips them down, kicking them off I take her by the arms again, locking them behind her and pull her backwards, deliberately unbalancing

“… a good sub doesn’t make it difficult for

but his eyes are black as he stands over her, legs akimbo, looking down,

… thankfully…

his pants

an arm around

tilts his

undoes the top button of his shirt. “Michael, would you like me to restrain her?” He stands

mine, and my own shaft, satisfyingly constrained by

perhaps. I’m rather comfortable

puts the tie to one

him to do, but instead, he pulls up a footstool, sitting close by her, his own knees spread, leaning forward. His eyes

crease where thigh meets vulva. A shudder runs through her and I crane to see. James’ gaze flicks to mine for a moment

briskly leaving the room, then just as briskly returning with a mirror which normally lives hooked on the wall in the hallway. He sets it against

“Can you see now?”

you, James.” And now I watch the reflection as he

pink against marble skin and copper curls. James traces the delicate furrow of her inner thigh, his head tilting as he does so. It’s the most delicate of touches, the very tip of a finger, but

on the fine skin of her inner thigh, tracing a path from cleft to knee

return with something… several somethings… concealed in his hand, popping some

arm; a set of controls. Another he offers up, wordless as he displays it to her; an egg. His

it low and work upwards

“Sounds good to me.”

eyes, so green, but with huge, dark pupils, are fixed on him as, one hand holding the egg, he thumbs the controls with the other until quietly, it hums in his hand. Reaching forward, he traces it over her skin, caressing her cheek with it, then her lips, the lightest of touches. Then like an artist with his masterpiece, he strokes the egg over her pussy

first touch, arching back, writhing against my hold. Waves pass through her body,

red with every moment. Then, his wrist twisting, he

at the hip.” He

a new position, now biting down on my self-control with

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