“Without question,” he answered instantly. She crooked a finger at him, and with a sweet smile, he settled onto his knees and crawled after her. Trusting he would follow her, she allowed him to carry his own delicate leash.
The doormen checked them out on both sides of the entry. It took her a moment to get her direction before she led him away from the atrium and toward the rumpus room. He gave her a questioning look but didn’t speak.
It was early enough that guests were hardly waking yet, let alone ready for play in the room. The place had been cleaned from whatever naughtiness happened the night before and she easily located the item she needed.
“Mistress?” he asked. His voice sounded shivery and small as he pressed against her hip and peered up at her from behind his elaborate mask.
“Yes, pet?” She toyed with the clasps of the metal cage and cock ring.
“Is that for me?”
“I think you’ll recall what I said last time we were here—that if you were mine, I’d put you in a cage. Unfortunately, this one doesn’t have my name engraved into it, so I hope you don’t get lost because no one will know where to return you.” She yanked the towel off his loins. “Stand up.”
Gracefully he rose and she grabbed his cock, pulling him toward one of the plush couches. Sitting, she smiled up at him, loving his low moan of pleasure and need, and the way his cock thickened instantly under her touch. Holding his gaze, she got the cage on him and latched it closed.
“I will always return to you, Mistress,” he growled and then whimpered, struggling to stay still under her careful caresses as she secured the metal around his cock and balls. Seeing him struggling against his urges was one of her greatest pleasures. This man who could take anything he wanted warred beautifully with his need.
Finally, she attached a jingle bell to the end of the cage, whispering, “I want to be sure I hear you when you’re writhing beside me under the table, or trying to finger that gorgeous cock without me seeing.”
She felt as if she really owned Cupid. Not just a weekend or a momentary claiming, but full ownership of him. In exchange, she felt herself explicitly wrapped around his dark fingers.
Chapter 7
Breakfast
The meal was delicious, not only because she got to spend it with her Cupid at her feet looking spectacular in his gear, but because she joined Dragon and his unexpected playmate. The woman in the faery mask. The same woman who had put herself between Cupid and Bee to rescue him.
It would take a while to recover from the startling realization that she knew the woman. Despite the outfit and mask, she would know Vans anywhere. Even Vans dressed as a faery and transformed into a subby, stuttering pony-girl for a smug Dragon. At least she seemed better suited to his desires than Hummingbird.
Ursa didn’t want to feel that happy for them, but damn if she wasn’t seeing Vans in a new light by the end of the meal. She was disappointed that the gem women were not up early to enjoy the festivities, but it was good for her to vent on Faery-Vans and discover this new leaf she’d turned over.
There was no possibility Vans would ever be happy with Cupid. The way she gawked at his joyful acceptance of submission, Ursa had no doubt there would be no further tampering on her part. Ursa wasn’t sure how Dragon could trust her, but he had confidence Faery would atone for her mistake.
“Guests and Patrons!” House Mistress’s voice was strong and confident, giving away no hint of her stress from the previous evening. “I’m sure you’re hearing the rumors so I want to get this out in the open as a group. Last evening, our house was violated and several of our members were hurt. It could have been worse but it could have been a lot better as well. One of the attacks happened right on our front steps while other patrons did nothing. This is simply unacceptable.
“This is a hard-play group with many of our members walking a fine line between their kink and abuse. However, everyone should know that guests are not allowed to proposition patrons. If you see something that looks nonconsensual, you should say something. If you feel your play would be diminished if someone verifies you are safe, you don’t belong here. No one should be so deep in play that they do not check that patrons or guests are not being abused and violated against their will.
“I am relieved other patrons and guests took it upon themselves to check that things were aboveboard, but I cannot fathom why the rest of the crowd going into the house looked on while a member had her mask stripped and was pulled down the stairs before the welcome announcement. While she shouted her safe word and no, only one person stepped in to stop it.
“Pony-play events have become highly contested. Those who wish to continue cut-throat pony sports can do it on their own property with their own people. Those who stir up trouble or are found cheating or threatening a member will be asked to depart the house. There will be additional security. You will be found if you’re bullying people and breaking rules and you will be required to leave.
“These events were established as a place for everyone to have fun and enjoy themselves in a safe haven for our most twisted fantasies within the sphere of consent. Last night was the first night I thought of closing the doors and giving this up. I have never had to call police, or feared for friends when it should have been prevented.
“The next few parties will be much smaller. I will be screening patrons and guests so get your request letter polished. There will be additional security measures. I won’t police every action—I will point you to the door. If your kink does not fall in the range of consent, save yourself the embarrassment.”
House Mistress waited, as though expecting several people to get up. The way her indigo gaze drilled into them was unsettling. At last her smile settled back to her lips. “That’s all my announcements. I will see you all at the races! Dress warmly. There will be snow!”
After House Mistress’s speech, Dragon excused himself and his plaything, leading her out by her leash, and Ursa admired the way he handled the inexperienced pony. Faery wore plain, brown leather straps arrayed in an elaborate network around her sex, forming a chastity belt.
Ursa honestly wanted to believe Vans knew and regretted what she’d done, just as she’d said when she begged forgiveness. It would take more than Dragon’s knowing smile and the inclination of his head to assure her of Vans’s rehabilitation. For now, however, she would trust the other woman and hope she wouldn’t regret her compassion.
“Can we go out to the snow now, Mistress?” Cupid asked very softly as he rose onto his knees.
Ursa stifled a laugh at the condition of his face and grabbed a napkin. She dabbed at the egg he’d managed to get on his chin and cheek. “You are a mess.”
Ah, the risks of eating from a plate without use of his hands while her heel pressed into the nape of his neck. He beamed at her and tipped his face toward her.
His dark eyes gleamed behind his mask as he licked his lips and she shivered, instantly reminded how slick his face looked between her thighs. “Not nearly as messy as I’d like, Mistress,” he rumbled, nibbling toward her fingers.
“Beast! Yes, pony, we can go to the snow.” She gave his face one more caress with the napkin and got to her feet. Sweeping her cloak onto her shoulders, she collected the fur muff.
“Thank you, Mistress.” He did not stand, but crawled with sexy grace by her side.
He seemed more like a dangerous jungle cat than a pony as he prowled beside her. Tethered only by the fragile golden leash looping his massive neck. Now and again, his wingtip flickered out and caressed her hip, though he kept his head bowed, respectfully averting his dark eyes.
People greeted her as they passed. Some wearing masks she remembered from the previous party, such as Butterfly and Impala who were lounging by the fire, smiles bright behind their masks. Others were stoic, expressionless. She suspected those had seen her unmasked and shamed on the steps the night before. She nodded to their mute greetings and smiled at others.
The house connected to an atri
um on one side and the stables and gardens on the other. The building no longer kept horses, but was full of pony-play fun. Even before they stepped into the space where stalls were set up, she heard the horse-calls and voices within. Cupid nickered softly under his breath and winked up at her. She’d been looking forward to this and hoped there would be less drama.
The previous party had been so full of intense, competitive players that she hadn’t fully enjoyed the sport. She braced for a bunch of catty sportsmen but when she swung the door open, the first voice she heard was familiar.
“Owl!” Celestia, in her star-spangled mask, cried out in delight. “My dear girl, you look stunning! Get your sexy pony in here and let us all have a look at you. You must meet Storm and her delicious little Flamingo! I’ll do introductions.”
Celestia was one of the first people Ursa had met at the Halloween event. She and her lover, in his ram mask, had provided her the first taste of watching public sex at the party. They were the first couple who admired her work with the crop when she’d paddled and pegged her sweet Cupid for the first time.
Cupid eagerly crawled forward onto the thick mats covering the stable floor. The bells on his straps and harness sang cheerfully. Inside it felt warm, protected from the wind and snow swirling outside. The beams overhead were strewn with bright twinkle lights in white, green and blue, along with garlands of evergreen like the rest of the house. The scent of horses remained in the space and bales of hay were positioned around in the aisle and inside the stalls.
Beyond the far doors she could see the running track and a bonfire already lit and blazing where spectators could enjoy the show. The snow spiraled down in thick, fat flakes, dancing against the wind. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving but already she felt like Christmas.
Over the stall doors were name plaques and she noticed one said Owl in gilt letters over the red plate. Grinning, she dropped a hand to Cupid’s shoulders, squeezing his dark skin as the big man leaned into her hip. Celestia had a space as did Dragon, Kitten and others unfamiliar to her. Several doors didn’t have plaques at all. Perhaps Bee’s and Peacock’s had been removed.
The woman, Storm, wore a mask with lightning bolts glittering in bright yellow and blue, her outfit was a prim equestrian garb with navy shadbelly coat, white breeches and tall boots with silver spurs gleaming at the heels. Ursa liked her from the moment the woman cheek-kissed her and introduced the pretty blonde in vivid-pink pony gear. The pony’s wrists and legs up to her knees were wrapped in protective binding with pads on her elbows and knees.
Flamingo seemed so shy, stammering her greetings as she shot Cupid sad looks through her lashes. She tried to keep her jockey between herself and the big man.
Cupid appeared to take the hint and nuzzled at Ursa’s hip, pointedly looking across the stable to where Ram and another couple of men in pony gear were showing off their fine tack and muscles to one another.
Ursa unclasped his leash, spanking his bottom to send him on his way. “Don’t cause trouble,” she teased as he shook his ass at her.
“He is extraordinary,” Storm said with approval. “I hear there was some bit of drama last night over him.” She stroked fingers through Flamingo’s blonde hair as she spoke. “Not to offend you, but no one is worth fighting over.”
“I agree with that. Jealousy is an ugly emotion. I hope you didn’t get pulled into it.”
Storm glanced at her pony and back to Ursa. “Not me, my girl.” She sniffed. “The stupid Bee bitch didn’t know the treasure she had all along. Some people are just greedy and cruel. They don’t know a good thing when it’s given to them.”
Ursa frowned, looking at Flamingo. “She was your patron?” she asked, unable to keep the shock from her voice.
Looking uncomfortable, the pony-girl nodded. “I wore her token.” Her little upturned pixie nose crinkled. “You are Archer’s patroness?”
Ursa inclined her head, lips twitching. “Cupid. Yes. He is mine.” She didn’t dull the edge of her possessiveness as she smoothed her hand over the top of her scepter. “I know he didn’t want any part of the woman’s advances. It just affirms what a horrible person she is for hurting you, too.”
Flamingo let out a soft breath, her shoulders relaxed and she leaned into Storm and twinkled a smile up at her. “Good. I thought he might have wanted her back. I suspected something was going on when she suddenly wanted to come to the party and… I’m just glad I saw her true colors before things got serious. I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.”
“None of us do, my darling,” Storm said softly.
Celestia listened to this with a concerned expression and at last leaned over to squeeze Ursa’s arm in sympathy. “I am horrified to hear what happened. The madness mingling into our parties is disheartening.”
“Hopefully this will be the end of things. New year, new rules for the parties, and a new way of thinking?”
“You are a bright light of optimism, Owl. Last time we spoke, you were not sure if this lifestyle was for you. This time, however!” Celestia’s smile widened behind the star mask and she motioned to Ursa’s velvet outfit. “You are taking to this splendidly! Please say you’ll accept my invitation to the Pony Day Tea. Sunday, the first day of spring.”
Ursa had not forgotten the initial invitation, but hadn’t expected it would be extended again. “I would love to.” She glanced over to where the men were laughing and practicing their strut, chests puffed out. Cupid and Ram were of similar height and build and were having quite a good time flaunting. As soon as Ursa looked in that direction their posturing grew more elaborate. “Dear Lord, help us, though. Those two.”
“Absolute trouble,” Celestia agreed. She chewed on her pinky finger and growled low in her throat. “Want to have a little sport before the real race?” she asked with a grin, green eyes gleaming like emeralds.
Ursa tore her gaze away from her handsome pony before she became lost in the dark beauty of him. “I’m up for something fun. Of course!”
Celestia beamed and moved to the side of the aisle where a stall with her name on the door stood open. From inside she drew out a brilliant red sled, patting one of the plush pillows. “Sled races!”
Ursa found one inside her marked stall too. Hers was painted in bright blue with snowflakes on the tracks. She pulled it out and laughed at the playful nickering and blowing of excitement from not only Cupid, but Ram as well. “I guess the boys are game for a go.”
“This part is really the most fun,” Celestia admitted as she adjusted the luxurious pillows. Ram playfully shouldered by Cupid and hurried to assist Celestia, hoisting the sled up and onto one broad shoulder. He gave an extra flex of pectorals, which his lady rewarded with an ass pat. “Just go! Out into the snow with you. Do not slip and fall, please. It will really spoil this image.”
Not to be outdone, Cupid swaggered to Ursa and lifted her sled and followed with a more-than-required posturing to go with it. He bent over, allowing her to swat him. “Too fucking hot for your own good!” she shouted after him as he trotted to catch up with Ram, making his bells ring loudly with every high-kneed stride.
Ursa noticed that Celestia was watching her when she pulled her attention away from admiring Cupid. “You are so good for him,” Celestia murmured and turned to Storm. “Would you and your girl like to have a go with this? It’s just in fun.”
Flamingo grinned but shook her head. “I don’t think I’m geared for this, but maybe we can wave the flag?” She glanced at Storm hopefully. “If I don’t freeze my ass off out there.” She wiggled her nearly bare self with a laugh.
And so they all braved the cold.
The men didn’t appear to notice the cold. Breath puffing from their mouths and noses, they jogged through the snow. Ursa cuddled into her heavy fur cloak, hands deep inside the muff to stay cozy. Celestia’s dress and coat also was better suited to the conditions of the snow. Storm took liberties with her arms around Flamingo to share warmth between them, using a blanket from the stable
to huddle under.
“That trail there will be used for the real event’s race,” Celestia explained as they crunched across the snow. “There’s a single track here for the sledding.”
The men were getting into position at the end of the field, wriggling into their pull harnesses and making adjustments. Cupid looked amazing against the backdrop of the snowy landscape. Not only because of the contrast or that he looked breathtaking all the time, but because he looked joyous. Grinning broadly, his black eyes gleaming like onyx, he waited for her. The jingling of the bells echoed over the landscape. Spectators were gathering around the fire pit, their skimpy costumes traded in for heavier winter gear.
When she reached the side of the sled, Cupid gallantly handed her into the small vehicle. He fluffed and arranged her pillows with a flourish. “Does this suit you, Mistress?” he asked while snowflakes caught on his lashes and in his dark curls.
She cupped his face and smoothed her thumbs over the corners of his lips as she nodded. “More than you can know!” she whispered, savoring the velvety warmth of his skin. “This is wonderful.”
He tipped his head enough to brush a kiss to her wrist. “Good. Hold on, Mistress, it’ll be fast!”
Ram nickered tauntingly and stomped a foot before kicking snow toward Cupid with a toss of his head.
“Save it for the run, boy’o!” Celestia called. She settled regally into her pillows and grinned at Ursa.
Ursa tucked into her own cushions as Cupid braced himself against the line, wings hugged tightly to his back. Behind them, she heard the call of encouragement from the spectators.
Then Flamingo dropped the pink ribbon and the race was on!
She’d been warned it would be fast, but she didn’t think the ponies could get a decent speed pulling the sleds over the fluffy snow. The speed shocked her and she grasped the side rail with a squeal of delight as the cold wind nipped at her face, snowflakes stinging her cheeks in a flurry around her.
Snow Mistress Page 11
