We woke, a heap of entangled bodies, at about six in the evening. I got up and put on my robe, black with gold dragons, and went to the kitchen to made a Thai duck red curry with rice. It’s one of my show-off dishes, and I had both Maires and Stephanie to show off to. You can’t just convince two women that you’re worth hanging out with, also submitting to. It’s a process, not a goal, and it doesn’t end: you have to keep on being convincing.

I heard sounds from the bedroom while I was busy. Someone, presumably Stephanie, was getting spanked. It lasted a long, long time. Stephanie started to vocalise after a couple of minutes, and I liked the mental picture that made. There were occasional pauses, when Stephanie moaned with pleasure. 

Then there was a longer silence, until Maires began her own orgasm noises and I knew why I wasn’t hearing from Stephanie any more. Her tongue was being put to use. I stirred the curry. 

A few minutes later they emerged, neither having showered, both smelling of sex and warm bread, wearing one of my white shirts. I brought out plates and we sat at the kitchen table, Stephanie beside me, both of us facing Maires. We said little and ate home-made Thai food.

Both my shirts were unbuttoned, full of beautiful, warm womanhood. I welcomed them both, with my arms round them while we swayed together and kissed. A woman wearing a man’s shirt is accepting various things from him, and that can’t help but feel good.

Still, during dinner I could see and feel that Maires and Stephanie weren’t focussing on me. Stephanie flirted with Maires and three times “accidentally” called her “Mistress.” Maires liked being Mistress. So they were happily turning each other on and to some extent they were taking the piss out of the man who’d been running things till then.

I was happy to sit back and watch. Stephany was the one of us with the least experience, and she’d turned out to be more consistently submissive than Maires, wanting to give herself to both of us. She was getting what she wanted, and if that meant she had to wind up her two Doms she was happy to do that. Maires touched my foot, under the table, and winked when I looked over at her. Stephanie, finishing her curry, didn’t notice. 

She was interested in other desires than food. She put her spoon on the plate and said, “That was delicious, thank you, Master.”

I said, “Good girl. Clean up for us now, and come back when you’ve put the dishes in rthe dishwasher.”

Stephanie stood, holding her plate. She said, “Yes, Master,” but turned to Maires first and said, “May I take your plate, Mistress?”

She was in range so I smacked her bottom, still warm and red from other discipline she’d had that day, most recently from Maires. My hand was hard enough for her to jump a little and yelp. “Master?”

“Do you address Maires as Mistress when you’re both with me?” 

Stephanie bit her lip. She doesn’t usually do that: it was calculated to make her cute. Then she dropped to her knees beside me. She kissed my foot, then looked up. “I’m sorry, Master, but I’m finding it hard not to. She’s my Mistress in my heart and in my cunt. I know you’re Master, for both of us. But I don’t want to call her Maires. It feels disrespectful.”

I put two of my fingers into her mouth, so she could tongue and suck gently. “What have I promised you after dinner, Stephanie?”

She didn’t even pretend to look sorry, or worried. “You’re going to teach me what the cane feels like, Master.”

“That’s right. A long, hard, introduction, for you, love. All right. Good girl. Take our plates away and wash them. Come straight back when you’ve finished.”

Stephanie took her shirt off. Some things are best done naked. She kissed my foot again, then licked me, as a sort of promise. She stood. She looked down at herself, and I guessed she was sorry she couldn’t curtsey. After a second she gave me a full bow from the waist.

She expected that I’d like what that did for her breasts, and she was right. Maires smacked Stephanie’s bottom while she was conveniently presented and winked at me again. 

Stephanie said, “Thank you, Mistress.” I nodded at her and she turned to face Maires. I decided she’d won her point: Maires was her Mistress. They smiled at each other, as Stephanies cleared her plate, then mine, and left. There was a short silence, while Maires and I looked at each other.

At last she said, “Are you jealous, Master?”