Jaime

Iawoke missing the heaviness that had become so familiar. I felt alive for the first time since the accident. I never knew being punished could be so…freeing. I grabbed my phone and saw a text waiting for me.

Madame: Good morning, Cherie. I have plans for you tonight. Come to my house at 7 pm. 5883 Briarpatch Way. Don't be late.

Me: Qui, Madame.

God, she excited me. I never thought I would feel excited for anything in life again. The guilt tried to creep back into my mind or maybe it was always there like the remnants of a spider web that you thought you brushed away. Maybe the key to happiness was not to not feel guilty but for the guilt to not consume you.

She opened the door looking like a fucking goddess. She wore a deep purple teddy, her hair hung free in waves down to her waist, and her legs looked a mile long in purple satin platforms. Holy fuck. The ability to speak escaped me in the face of her beauty.

"Cherie," she purred at me.

"Hi," I squeaked. Get it together, . She beckoned me forward, and I slowly stepped over the threshold right into her arms. The kiss was slow, a sensual meshing of our lips, and we couldn't fit more perfectly together. I had never been kissed with such skill and precision. Every stroke of her tongue was sure, and every bite of my lip was the perfect amount of pressure.

"As-tu ete un bonne fille (Have you been a good girl)?" I knew what she was referring to and I had been. No panic attacks seized my lungs this morning. No migraines prevented me from opening my eyes. I looked down at my hands and pointed out the fine tremors that I couldn't seem to control. Her hands covered mine as she brought them up to her lips and bestowed a gentle kiss. She knew what choosing her had cost me. I was in withdrawal. Luckily, the nausea and the cold sweat had subsided.

"Qui, Madame."

"Tres bien, ma Cherie (Very good, my darling)." She took my hand, leading me through the foyer into a large living room where a handsome man sat. His leg was folded over his knee, and he held a glass of wine in one hand while the other hand idly played with the hair of a man at his feet. The man was in the same position that Madame had me in last night, his eyes cast downward at the floor.

"Master," she called, and I noticed that she was looking at the floor as well. Hurriedly, I did the same for fear of displeasing either of them. Though she was submissive to him, they both reeked of dominance to me. I shuddered when I thought of them both punishing me. I felt Madame glance at me because there was no way she didn't feel my body shake just now. God, I hope she couldn't see the heat in my cheeks.

"Show me your new toy, Cherie." His raspy timbre reverberated through my bones and liquified my organs. Shit, I couldn't be attracted to my Madame's husband. I was sweating and damn near panting. She brought me forward and said, "This is , Monsieur."

He stood gracefully, circling me like a hawk that had spied its prey. I felt his hand caress my cheek as he tilted my chin up to look at him. He smelled of the wine he was drinking, tobacco, and cinnamon; He easily lured me into his atmosphere, and I found myself chasing his touch when he moved away. "Tu es belle (You are beautiful)," he murmured to me before kissing his wife like no one else was in the room. When they parted, he sat back down and immediately started petting the man at his feet once more. He wore nothing more than a thick leather collar and black boxer briefs.

"They are beautiful, are they not, my pet?" he asked the man.

The handsome blonde, blue-eyed man slowly assessed me, his eyes landing on my lips. Why was everyone in this house so goddamn attractive?

"Yes, Sir."

"Ma Cherie, should we let our toys play sometime?"

He stroked his chin like he was in deep thought. His eyes blazed with heat, and my knees were quaking. He looked like he was weaving a web of wicked delight and absolute debauchery. Was it possible to be more turned on? How could I want this woman's husband and his boyfriend? There was no hiding the flush of my skin and how my thighs rubbed together when I was naked.

"Oh, she likes that, Monsieur. Look at how her body trembles," she replied. "My husband and I are what is called polyamorous, Cherie. Have you heard the term?"

"Yes, Madame." I wasn't ignorant of the concept, but I never thought it would become my reality. Then again, I didn't picture this perfect woman turning my world onto its axis either.

"Excellente, that man sitting next to him is Landon, his other partner and submissive. Tonight, I'm going to give you the pleasure you were denied yesterday since you behaved so well today." I felt her lips on my ear when she said the next words, "And if you are willing, my husband is going to watch."

Holy fuck. Her words ignited a fire in my veins. Being touched by her and watched by him would be an existential awakening. Turning me around to face her, she asked, "Would you like that? If you are uncomfortable we can always go to the bedroom." I shook my head quickly, watching her face fall. "I'm sorry, this is too much, too soon. I…" She looked so nervous that I placed a shaky finger over her lips.

"I'm okay, Madame. This… is okay."

"You must tell me if I ever move too fast or do something that you aren't comfortable with."

I nodded, grateful that she always checked in to make sure I was okay with what we were doing.

"We really should have discussed limits, but I was so desperate to pull you out of that destructive headspace you were in."

"I desperately needed that, Madame. I desperately needed you." She grabbed my head and kissed me mercilessly. I felt her desire for me; I felt her disappointment in the choices I made. But most of all, I felt her determination to make herself my new addiction. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part.

I felt her hands glide against my waist, pulling my shirt up by the hem. Thank God I wore one of my nice sets of lingerie. I think I cared a little too much about what they thought.

My bra and panties were nude lace, the color of caramel, that almost blended with my skin. My darker areolas were like bullseyes beneath the fabric especially since my nipples have been hard since I laid eyes on Madame.

They protruded obnoxiously, begging for her mouth. I heard her breath hitch and risked a look at her face. Her eyes were zeroed in on my chest, her gaze feral.

Her hands grazed my belly before popping the button on my jeans and dragging those down my hips as well, revealing my lace cheeky panties.

I heard a grunt from the couch, and we both looked over to see Sir rubbing his large erection through his dress slacks while staring at us.

Madame pulled me over to the loveseat where Sir had an unobstructed view. Kissing my neck, she reached around unclasping my bra, baring my breasts to the room. She pushed me back, suckling them until I nearly came before she stopped.

"I'm going to fuck you, Cherie. You are going to be Ma Belle Marionette (my beautiful puppet). What do you think about that?"

"Qui, Madame. Ta marionette (Yes, Mistress. Your puppet)," I moaned. I heard a click, and when I opened my eyes, she had a strap-on attached to her pelvis.

Dragging my panties down my legs, she said, "Turn over. Lift that beautiful ass in the air." I heard another click and felt something cold probe my entrance.

"So wet…" she murmured before she thrust her hips forward.

I screamed, feeling her deep within me from this angle. It had been so long, and I was so incredibly tight. She held my gaze, and I flinched from the intensity of emotion I was feeling. The urge to cry from relief and the unadulterated joy was potent. I was feeling too much already…and yet, it seemed like it wasn't enough. I turned my head to get myself in check and met Sir's eyes. They fluctuated between watching me get fucked and watching his wife fuck me. Landon was sucking his Master deep while jutting his hips into his hand. So many groans of pleasure and the sounds of flesh meeting flesh filled the room. Fuck, fuck, fuck! All this stimulation was going to make me come.

"Madame," I whimpered, "May I please come?"

I wanted to be a good girl and ask for permission, but my orgasm was rolling in like a freight train. I didn't know if I could stop it even if she told me to. My walls continuously clenched the toy inside me, getting ready to explode, but then she pulled out.

"Ride me, Cherie," she said, taking a seat on the couch so that I could straddle the cock she wore. I slid down easily, rocking my hips. Her hands under my ass lifted me as she pushed from underneath. Her mouth sought my breasts once more, and I shuddered and groaned from the intense pleasure shooting through me like a current.

"Ask my husband for permission to come," she said, panting. I couldn't see him, but I bucked my hips frantically thinking about coming at his command.

"Please Sir, please may I come?"

"Turn her around, Cherie. You are all going to come at the same time for me." I swiftly turned around and impaled myself once more, giving Sir a prime view of my pussy being spread by his wife's cock.

"Reach down and rub your Madame's clit while you bounce on her cock." I did as he instructed, feeling the pressure coil in my belly.

"Merde (Shit)! Yes, Cherie. Just like that."

"Come my pets. Come now." It was like a domino effect, and all the submissives responded to the unquestionable dominance in his tone. I heard Sir groan and saw Landon's jaw working to swallow every drop. Landon made a mess of his hand and stomach. Seeing them lose themselves to pleasure caused a tremor to roll through my body before I cried out my release, and Madame's rhythm faltered as she came beneath me.

Basking in the afterglow of sweet submission, I realized that this was where happiness dwelled. I could fight the darkness because Madame was the light. She would be there to pleasure and punish me as needed, the marionettist to my marionette.