Storywitch's "Book of Shadows"

Hey, everyone! Ready for part 2? I’m going to give you the last paragraph of the previous section, because otherwise the first paragraph would be a little confusing (and I figure some of you may have the same chronic condition I have – CRS!). Have fun with it! Hope you’re all having a great week.

* * * * *

Last Par Part One –

…Because as strong a Mistress as Violet was, he was a stronger Master, and he knew it would take more than a set of cuffs to make him relinquish control.

* * * * *

Part Two

He’d have been surprised to know how closely Violet’s thoughts reflected his own on the matter. Even with all her experience in controlling males, professional and personal, her lower belly still gave an amusing little flutter when Tyler put down his clippers, slowly pivoted and brought his hands up, lacing them behind his head. It emphasized the width of his shoulders, the beautiful play of muscle, obvious even under the storm gray T-shirt he wore. And she hadn’t been kidding about his ass. She wondered if Marguerite would mind if she got a little enthusiastic with the role and frisked him thoroughly. Tucking her tongue in her cheek, Violet figured what Marguerite didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, but Mac, who could be a tad on the possessive side about his own Mistress, might have a few issues.

Plus, Tyler would tattle, and she’d have to worry about Marguerite asking for quid pro quo next time they were at the club. Whatever Marguerite’s boundaries might be about Tyler’s body, Violet knew exactly how she felt about another woman fondling Mac’s fine ass.

Still, she was too much of a Mistress not to feel a frisson of physical pleasure when she clipped the cuff on his left wrist, and then guided his hands down behind his back to secure them both, so his knuckles rested on the rise of his buttocks. When he gave her a sidelong glance, of course he was too much of a Master not to register her reaction. His lips quirked at her, and she gave him an arched brow in return.

“Don’t get cute, or I’ll use that Taser after all.”

Tyler grinned then. “You’re just looking for any excuse.”

Despite the smile, there was a hint of tension in the solid biceps beneath her grip. Since he was her closest friend, aside from Mac, she wanted to offer him something, but she checked herself. She knew the value of ratcheting up anticipation.

Mac had stayed at the corner of the house, and as Violet guided Tyler around the large stand of oleanders, he could see why. He’d needed to keep a clear line of sight to the circular driveway and the vehicle that was parked there, the hum of the running engine underscored by the blowing sound of air conditioning.

“I’m being kidnapped and transported in a mini-van with infant sunscreens in the windows,” Tyler observed dryly. “I wonder why the CIA hasn’t thought of that. Perfect cover.”

“Welcome to where the D/s lifestyle meets the reality of transporting tiny people,” Violet agreed, unperturbed. As she took him to the van, Mac fell in behind them, lifting his hand in a farewell to someone inside the house, probably looking through the tall living room picture window.

“I assume you informed my housekeeper that you were doing this?”

“Actually, Sarah’s been in on it for some time. She asked me if I’d blindfold you so she could come out and beat you like a rug, anonymously. You know, payback for every time you left your dirty boxers on the floor for her to pick up. I would have agreed, but I promised Marguerite I’d deliver you in pristine condition.”

“You know, speaking of payback—”

“I’m just following orders, sir,” Violet said in her official cop voice. “Take it up with your legal counsel.”

“I get legal counsel?”

“No,” Mac said amiably, sliding open the door for him.

Tyler had a suitable and colorful response to that. Violet punched his arm, hard enough he was pretty sure it would bruise.

“Language,” she said. Her tone had changed again, this time to the “mother” voice, a new dialect that had amused Tyler as it developed without any plan or effort, apparently something that attached itself to her DNA once she’d conceived. “There is a child in the car.”

At that, his tingling apprehension about their destination temporarily dissipated, pure affection taking over. Daisy was in her car seat, the five month old infant playing unperturbedly with a soft fabric mobile of flowers dancing over her head. Mac hadn’t had her out of his sight of course, but Daisy had come out of the womb remarkably self-assured. Mac thought it was because she’d inherited her mother’s terrifying fearless streak. Tyler was pretty sure it was because Daisy knew she had an indomitable father who would move Heaven and Hell if necessary to keep a moment of distress from touching her.

Even now, having been in the vehicle ostensibly by herself, she looked like a tiny princess welcoming them into her throne room. Her violet-blue eyes turned toward them in calm curiosity. One curlicue of her fine dark hair sat up, tied with a pink ribbon.

Mac guided him onto the seat beside her, cupping Tyler’s head to protect it as he ducked in. It was an easier feat for him than Violet, since Mac was closer to Tyler’s height.

“Daisy was very excited about coming along for this.” Violet slid into the front passenger seat. “She even had me dress her up special for the occasion.”

For Violet’s baby shower, Chloe—Marguerite’s irrepressible baker and hostess at the Tea Room—had provided Daisy an applicable, if somewhat inappropriate, gift. It was a pajama set, a pretty pink and white thing that depicted a small female devil with flirtatious lashes and a pitchfork laced with flowers. Beneath the cartoon were printed the words: “I like spankings.” Dressed in that, Daisy also had Chloe’s other impudent gift, a rattle shaped like a tiny flogger. Attached to her wrist, she was vigorously shaking it even now, the rattler in the handle making a pleasant bell noise while the straps slapped together.

“I think her participation in this is illegal,” Tyler noted.

“She’s only assisting in transport.” Violet cooed at her daughter, touched the little fist as she leaned through the opening between the seats. Mac came around to take the driver’s side. “She gets to go to bed when she gets home, so the pajamas made sense.”

“She still appears better dressed for the occasion than I am,” Tyler responded.

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that for long,” Mac observed, with far too damn much smugness for Tyler’s peace of mind.

Even so, he couldn’t resist leaning over, despite his restrained hands, to tease his goddaughter’s perfect nose with a puff of air. She gurgled at him, smiling, then kicked her arms and legs vigorously, whapping him several times with the flogger.

“That’s my girl,” Violet laughed. “Take us into Tampa, Mac. As happy as Daisy is to see Tyler, there’s a woman who’s even more eager to get her hands on him.”

Tags: Tyler Tied UP

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