I smiled, cracking the whip again, this time just above James' ear. He flinched, groaned, and the sound vibrated through me, making me wetter.
Two different flames, both burning for me. One fed by fire, the other by touch. And me? I stood in the middle, drinking it all in, my power and my arousal tangled until I couldn’t tell the difference.
I edged them both like instruments, my fingers dragging Amiyah close, then pulling back just enough to make her whimper; my whip striking James until his breath stuttered, then pausing to let the ache throb through him.
The room filled with their sounds, her gasping, his groaning, and every note was mine.
Every ounce of their pleasure belonged to me.
The room continued to throb with the sounds I’d coaxed out of them, Amiyah gasping in broken pleas, James groaning through clenched teeth. Both of them trembling, both of them desperate, both of them mine.
I had them where I wanted them: right at the edge.
Amiyah’s body quaked beneath my hand every time I circled her clit, her thighs fluttering open, then snapping shut when I pulled away. “Please,” she begged again, voice cracking, “please let me—”
“Not yet,” I cut her off, savoring the way her chest heaved with the denial.
James sagged forward on his knees, sweat running down the muscles of his back where the marks of my whip bloomed bright. His breath came ragged, his dick hard and straining, his submission carved into every groan. “Mistress…” he rasped, low, guttural. “I—”
“Not yet,” I snapped again, striking the whip down against the floorso close to him that the sound made him flinch. He bowed lower, groaning in need, and my clit pulsed at the sight.
Two bodies, two different hungers. One ruled by sensation, the other by pain. And I held them both in my hands, their pleasure nothing but an extension of my will.
“Look at you,” I murmured, circling them both as if admiring my art. “So needy. So desperate. So beautifully broken. Your devotion is my salvation.”
I stood tall, breathing deep, then let the decision fall like a gavel. “Come together. Now.”
The words snapped through the air like the crack of my whip.
Amiyah shattered first, crying out as her body bowed, her orgasm ripping through her with the force of withheld need finally unleashed. Tears spilled down her cheeks, her nails clawing the floor as she gasped for air, her voice raw with surrender, her pussy gushing the release she’s been begging for.
James followed, his groan breaking into a strangled shout, his release tearing free with the violence of denied hunger finally breaking open. He collapsed forward, forehead pressed to the ground, body shuddering as his devotion spilled out of him, thick white ropes erupting from his pulsating head.
The sound of them, her moans, his groans, their trembling bodies undone in perfect synchronicity, made heat flood my own core, sharp and consuming. My thighs clenched, my breath hitched, and I let myself moan, savoring the way their pleasure fed mine.
When the tremors passed, silence clung for a moment, broken only by their ragged breaths. Both of them collapsed, ruined,but glowing in the wreckage I’d left them in.
“Good,” I whispered, my voice low, dark, proud. “So fucking good and obedient.”
But I wasn’t finished.
I stepped back, peeling off my corset, letting it drop to the floor, my full chocolate breasts bared, nipples puckered. My body slick with the same sweat and hunger that marked theirs. I stood above them, power in every line of me.
“Now,” I commanded, “you’ll please me, together.”
Amiyah lifted her head, eyes still dazed but burning with need. James pushed himself up onto his hands, his submission steady but eager.
I lowered myself onto the leather chaise set against the wall, spreading my thighs, resting one arm along the backrest like a queen waiting for her worship.
“Show me,” I purred, heat curling in my voice. “Show me how two beautiful, desperate creatures can please their Mistress.”
They crawled to me, side by side, devotion written in every movement, and when their hands and mouths reached me, tender and reverent, hungry and obedient, the world collapsed into nothing but power, heat, and the raw ecstasy of being served. James' body broad and powerful even in surrender, his head bowed. Amiyah, trembling but radiant, her lips parted, her eyes already shining with something that looked like worship: my submissives, the pair to balance me.
James reached me first, bowing lower, his hands spreading along my calves, pressing kisses warm and hungry to my skin. Each one was possession reversed, devotion made flesh. Every groan that slipped from his throat vibrated against me, a reminder that this man, strong, dominant in the outside world, was mine to command here.
“Permission to taste, Mistress,” his voice filled with arousal and humility.
“Good boy, permission granted.”
