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The redhead’s response was immediate and confident. “No, Master Grit. She is perfectly safe here with all of us.”
Good answer, Mack thought. Dispersing the responsibility over the four of them, including Tabitha in a familial capacity rather than singling her out.
“We haven’t played with anyone else before,” Grit continued, stealthily trailing his hands down the front of her shirt and unfastening the buttons. “Sex is still an emotionally painful event for you, so I know we’re pushing several limits at once. Tell me your safeword, little tiger.”
She shifted uneasily, then stiffened when the edges of her shirt blossomed open to reveal the lowcut bra beneath. “Rory.”
Clever guy. Grit was evidently an expert at divulging private information without giving the game away—he was talking to his sub and briefing everyone else at the same time.
“Tonight, you follow orders from Mack and Liam as well as me. We’re trying a mirror scene—do you know what that is, Tabby?” When she swallowed audibly, Grit glanced at Sierra.
“I don’t know, Master Grit.”
“A mirror scene is when two—or three—Doms play with their own subs in tandem with each other,” Liam explained quietly, forcing Tabitha’s gaze to lift and find him. “I’m not going totouch you, Tabitha, and neither is Mack. Grit won’t lay a hand on Sierra. This isn’t about swapping partners or fucking anyone else’s sub. Got it?”
She nodded slowly.
“No, pet. Time to start using your voice so we know you have one and can trust you’ll use it.” Bit by bit, his voice was lowering until it dropped an octave; Sierra shivered, her eyes half-closing as it affected her. “Do you understand the rules I’m setting out?”
The poor woman looked as though she was about to keel over, Mack mused. He silently urged her to speak up, to find the backbone she’d walked in with moments ago. He’d always been a sucker for the underdog, and right now, she was outnumbered and floundering.
“Y-Yes, Master Liam.”
“Good girl. Listen carefully,” he advised, cradling Sierra’s nape in his hand and kneading gently. “Any one of the three of us can give you an order. Both of you are expected to obey. Both of you are being trusted to use your safeword if and when necessary.” His tone darkened. “Don’t think we can’t tell when you’re at your limit. There will be punishment if you don’t safe out at that point.”
Tabitha muttered something.
Liam chuckled, arching a brow. “Might as well say that louder, pet.”
Her bottom lip quivered, but she pinned him with those wide blue eyes. “I said, isn’t getting fucked up the ass punishment enough?Sir.”
Mack took a slight step forward, drawing her attention to him before she started spitting fire. If Liam really did have a sadist streak, he was probably the wrong Dom to backchat. Hell, any Dom was the wrong Dom, but challenging a sadist was never the smart choice. “Tabitha, right?”
Ah, now she was gearing up for a fight again. “Yes.”
“I’m Mack. Not a Master, so you can just call me Sir if needed. We don’t know each other, so obeying me is likely going to be hard for you. Or at the very least, more difficult than listening to either of these two.” He cocked his head, trying to figure her out. “An anal virgin isn’t usually terrified the way you are—apprehensive, but not,” he paused, circling a finger in her direction, “eaten up by a chill that goes down to your bones.”
She blinked and sank back into Grit’s embrace, seeking reassurance she was immediately given.
“A survivor, then,” he mused aloud. “Raped as well as sodomized?”
He heard Liam’s soft growl, Sierra’s shocked gasp.
Grit’s eyes hardened to stone.
Tabitha just nodded, warily assessing him as he studied her.
“Easy to see why you think anal is a punishment,” he told her gently, ignoring the tension rising from her Dom. “Can I let you in on a secret?”
“I-I guess.”
“Why do you think anal hurts so much? No, don’t go for the obviousnothing’s meant to go up thereanswer. There are hundreds of nerves in the human body, with a high concentration of them located in the anus. That means when some fucking jackass decides to stick his cock up there without warning—or consent,” he added in a sympathetic tone, “those nerves react, sending out pain signals.”
Her expression shifted; he could tell she was trying to block his words out.
“When the nerves are teased and titillated, the muscles given time to stretch, they react a lot differently, Tabitha. They hum instead of scream, give pleasure instead of pain.” He sighed when she turned her face away. “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“There is no pleasure,” she hissed between clenched teeth.
