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?”

I lay back with Maires on her tummy between my legs, her hands tightly holding my thighs, mouth on my cock. I’d long ago withdrawn permission for her to use her hands when she sucked my cock, and I watched her head bobbing, keeping me in her warm, wet and mobile mouth.

Stephanie lay on her side, stroking my hair and watching my facial expressions as Maires pleasured me. She’d never been in a position to watch a man’s face as he was being sucked before. She smiled benignly, as if she was watching children playing nicely. Sometimes she put her hand on the back of Maires’s neck in encouragement. 

I could feel the stirring of orgasm, a distance away but getting closer, and so I put my hands on the back of Maires’s head and held her down. I thrust hard into her, because I couldn’t help myself, and anyway I wanted to stop her breathing, at least through her mouth. She grunted: she liked that.

I said, “Up,” and let her go. Maires clambered to her knees and looked at me, considering. She’d been promised a fuck, since Stephanie had had all the sexual attention recently from both of us, until I’d demanded she suck me. I’d needed that: I’d make my promise but I hadn’t been sure I’d be hard and committed for her. Now I was. Maires bent down briefly and kissed the head of my cock. Then she turned, her back to me, and straddled me so my cock sank into her, or rather she sank onto my cock.

I gasped when her buttocks rested on my groin, my cock deep, or high, buried in more intimate warmth. I smacked her left buttock once, to let her know I approved, and she began to move, fucking me, taking her pleasure.

All I had to do was watch her, which was wonderful enough, and hold back my orgasm until she’d ridden me to her own.

Stephanie leaned forward to kiss me, and then raised herself a little, leaning forward, to direct her left nipple into my mouth.

I sucked her, then grazed her with my teeth, because I knew she liked that. But then I bit just a little harder, as a warning, and she backed off. I had Maires’s amazing ass to watch. 

I felt Maires’s hands resting on my knees then, and she raised herself and then dropped spectacularly, working herself on me. Stephanie kissed me again, but only for a second. She moved down the bed to kiss Maires’s cunt, then stayed, pleasuring her with her nose and tongue. With that pressure Maires lowed like a calf hunting for its mother, and sped up. 

I put my hands on the junction of Maires’s waist and her spread thighs, and held her tight. She was making little cries and grunts now, that I recognised and loved. We were near the end. I started to thrust back, in time with her. I was still trying to hold back, but I knew I wouldn’t have to for much longer. 

Maires said, “Ah.” Almost conversationally, then she wailed. I felt contractions in her cunt, a sort of flutter, and I held her tighter and thrust upwards, hard as I could. In a few seconds we both grunted and growled, a sort of mammalian dawn chorus, and I let myself come in her. I continued thrusting, losing my rhythm, until Maires had run down. 

Maires leaned back, my cock still in her, until she lay on top, her back to me. I put my hands on her breasts and squeezed tight. She turned her head to kiss my neck. She sighed, the happy kind. Then Stephanie leaned forward and kissed Maires’s mouth. Maires kissed her back, but after a time shook her head. “You want too much attention, Stephanie. Sometimes you won’t be the star.”

Stephanie said, “Yes, Mistress.” She caught my eye: my disapproving. I’d said they were equals when I was with them. “I’m sorry, Master. And I expect you’ll punish me. I probably deserve it. But I can’t help thinking of … Maires – it’s hard for me even to say the name now – as anything but Mistress. May I call her that?”

I had to think about that. I didn’t want Maires to be anything but a slavegirl, when I was with her. But I understood how Stephanie felt. She wanted to be at the bottom, with a Master and a Mistress. At last I said, “After dinner, I’m going to give you your first caning. You know that, Stephanie.”

“Yes, Master. Of course. Though that’s scary.”

“Then you will cane Maires.” Maires looked at me, surprised, but made no protest. Then she smiled: that could be fun too, including Stephanie’s confusion. “You’d better do it hard, or it’ll be worse for you, little slave.”

“Oh. Oh, I see. But can I call her Mistress?”

“You will. With every stroke.”

Stephanie straddled Maires then, her thighs under Maires’s breasts, her cunt just out of Maires’s reach. She leaned down and kissed me. “Thank you, Master. I’m sure Mistress won’t forget her place.” Maires, sandwiched between me and Stephanie, laughed briefly. This was absurd. “And I’ll find it much easier.”

My cock had softened, and when Maires moved to dislodge Stephanie it slipped out of its sweet place. I pulled both of them down, Maires under my right arm and Stephanie at my left. Maires said, “Sleepies?”

Stephanie frowned. “Oh, all right.”

I smacked her belly, then her cunt. After two more smacks she relaxed. “You need rest too. It’s being a good day.”