For My Masters's Pleasure

Kneeling on the floor in between her two masters, a tray in her hands, Felicia kept her eyes solely on the floor. She felt pressure on the tray she held as one of her masters pulled a piece of fruit from it. From the way her tray dipped she could assume it was Master Cyril, which meant her plate was a few grapes short, as he preferred grapes to any other fruit.
The deep rumble of Master Donavon’s voice rolled across her senses as he responded to a question posed by one of the visiting guests. A chuckle, some flirty remarks, both males entertained the guests with flawless skill. A new servant might have made the mistake of looking up to get a peek at the other people in the room, but this was going on Felicia’s second year, she had been thoroughly trained at this point.
Nervousness and pride, silly emotions that can drive a servant to make mistakes, however, Felicia found too much happiness in her masters’ pleasure to be concerned with petty emotions. There was one small issue though; jealousy was starting to darken her heart. Flirting was a part of her masters’ jobs as well as ingrained in their personalities, a fact that Felicia had come to accept over time. Yet, still there was one woman in the room that was flirting with Felicia’s masters harder than any of the others, and her masters were responding in kind.
There had always been the chance that her masters would feel the need to branch out past one servant to satisfy their hungers, but Felicia found that she was far more greedy than a servant should be. She wanted the both of them all to herself; she might have to leave them if they found another servant to assuage their never ending lusts.
Keeping her eyes firmly on the ground before her, tray held above her head and hiding her expression, Felicia felt her face contort at the heart-wrenching thought of leaving either of her masters. True she was not the best servant they could have and she did not claim to deserve the position she held, but neither was she the worst. There was some areas in their ring of play where she would disagree with her masters or put them against one another for her own entertainment but they often made her pay for her transgressions with punishments that ranged between the bedroom and public.
Her position as personal table at the very moment was proof of such punishments. She had pitted them against one another in the bedroom and even as they allowed it, both males had given her a silent promise of retribution. Smiling to herself, Felicia ducked her head lower, knowing that no one could see her, or so she assumed. Master Donovan, who sat regally on her right on a golden throne matching Master Cyril’s, ran a finger across the back of her neck.
As a shiver rushed through her body and goose bumps peppered her flesh, some of the fruit rocked on the tray held above her head with the force of her response. Felicia heard Master Donovan’s chuckle even as she felt Master Cyril’s smirk. They would punish her for the shift of food later. Even as delight swelled inside her breast, she felt the urge to glare at her masters. Master Donovan had done that on purpose.
Later, after the guests had left the receiving room often used for large gatherings, a cook’s aid came and removed the tray, much to Felicia’s relief. Lowering her aching arms, which now felt as though they were made of water, Felicia stood. Or she tried to; her knees disagreed with that motion. Luckily her masters were paying close attention to her. As she swayed to fall Master Cyril caught her about the waist.
“We put the safe words in place for a reason, if it was too much for you, you should have said something.” Master Donovan observed her with his usual too perceptive eye as he reprimanded her.
“It wasn’t too much. I actually forgot I was in that position after a while, it was moving out of it that was a problem.” Felicia smiled as she responded, realizing it was the truth. She actually had forgotten that she was their personal table after a time.
“So how did you like being a piece of artwork?” Master Cyril leaned Felicia away from his body a bit to get a good look at her face.
“Artwork?” Looking him in the eyes because she was allowed to when they were alone and he had the most beautiful golden brown eyes she had ever seen; Felicia gave him a quizzical look.
“That group of guests was riddled with artists and writers looking to get a better feel for what we do here.” Felicia turned to look at Master Donovan who still studied her closely.
“Yes, and you were beautiful in that lovely little pose we placed you in, I’m sure they will have a grand time playing with what they got here today.” Master Cyril threw her his usual carefree smile.
Eyes wide, Felicia looked between the two of them not sure she was fully understanding what they were saying. They had let someone draw her? Struggling to push away from Master Cyril, Felicia was just about to attempt to comment on their letting someone draw her when Lord Powel walked into the room. Returning her gaze to the floor, Felicia stepped behind Master Cyril, even as both of her masters moved to stand in front of her.
“That was wonderful, gentleman. I just saw our guests out and it seems that they were all quite pleased with what they saw here today. And, if my old eyes didn’t deceive me, we might have a few good candidates in that group.” He had walked in with arms spread wide, but had stopped the respectful five feet away from Felicia’s masters.
“I’m in agreement with you there. There were a few that I saw had potential, for both master and servant positions.” Master Donovan nodded his approval as he made a mental list of guests who might make the candidacy list.
Master Cyril cocked his head to the side, “I don’t think all of our guests were very open to what they saw. A few of them seemed as though fear or pride overrode their curiosity.”
Lord Powel nodded slightly, “Yes, which is to be expected in any large group. There will always be those too scared of themselves to truly let go. I’m sure you both have many things to do, I simply came to congratulate you both on a job well done.” He extended his hand first to Master Cyril then to Master Donovan.
Felicia felt his eyes fall to her and she felt another shiver run up her spine. Before she became Master Donovan’s and Master Cyril’s servant she had been in line to be Lord Powel’s servant. There were rumors travelling through the servant’s grapevine that he now regretted his decision in not choosing her. After seeing what her masters had done with her, had been able to train her to do, he now saw the potential that he had missed the first time.
But that was all speculation, nothing had ever been proven and Lord Powel had never actually tried to persuade her away from her masters. Yet, somehow, the feel of his eyes on her flesh felt like a come-hither summons. Staring at the floor hard enough to burn holes into it, Felicia did her best to keep her body relaxed and open. If she tensed up she could insult him and that would reflect poorly on her masters.
“Was there anything else Lord Powel?” Master Donovan asked in a formal, restrained voice after Lord Powel had spent too much time staring at Felicia.
“No, that was all. Good day to you then.” On that note, he turned on a heel and exited the receiving room.
For a full minute the room was utterly still and quiet as her masters waited, standing completely still. After a sufficient amount of time had passed, her masters moved to leave the large room. Passing large pillows that surrounded round tables, the three of them reached the door that would lead them out of the receiving room.
Holding up his hand, Master Cyril signaled them to wait as he checked to see if Lord Powel had actually left. Stepping out into the hallway Master Cyril scanned the hall before knocking twice on the door. Master Donovan exited next, Felicia three steps behind him, and together the three made their way to their living quarters.
As soon as they entered, on Master Donovan’s side of their living arrangement, Master Cyril threw himself on the bed face first. Master Donovan waited for Felicia to shut the door behind them before he turned and took the position that signified that she was to undress him. Thankfully, the time Lord Powel had taken to talk to them and the walk to their rooms had given her enough time to regain her strength.
Starting first at the cuffs of his shirt, Felicia began methodically undressing Master Donovan the way he liked.
“Mm hmm mmmh mmm?”
“Cyril, no one can understand you when you talk into the mattress.” Master Donovan turned his head slightly to glance over at Master Cyril.
Turning over, Master Cyril took in a large gulp of air. “I was trying to say ‘why did Powel reject Felicia anyway?’” Reaching up into the air, he began to make symbols at the ceiling. Felicia had yet to figure out why he did that.
“I don’t know. Although it’s something I pondered at first, the question had long since slipped my mind. Until now, that is.” He turned back to look at Felicia who was focusing on undressing him.
Since neither had addressed her directly, she didn’t answer. After unbuttoning his cuffs, she had begun unbuttoning his black button down shirt from the bottom up. For some reason, he liked to have his collar unbuttoned last. After removing the shirt and placing it on the chair near the wardrobe on the far end of the room, Felicia returned to start on his decretive pants. They were typically a bit more complicated than regular pants, but Felicia had been made aware of this fact beforehand and so she had studied up on their design.
“Felicia,” Master Donovan said in his commanding voice. Looking up from the intricate pants, she noted in the corner of her eye that Master Cyril had once again flipped over onto his stomach, but this time his head was propped up on his hand and he was watching them.
“Why did Lord Powel reject you?” A blush covered her face at the question; she had hoped this was just another one of their speculative topics that would be dropped easily. Apparently she had been wrong.
“M-my size.” Looking down and focusing on the pants, fingers fumbling in her rush, Felicia tried to get the pants off Master Donovan as quickly as possible so that she could retreat back to her room.
Strong fingers reached down and grasped her smaller ones. Pulling her up off of her knees he lifted a hand and made her look him in the face. Sliding her gaze to the far wall, away from both of the men who saw too much of what she sometimes wished she could hide.
“What about your size?” Cyril was paying even closer attention to them now, more importantly, her.
Having no choice but to look her master in the eye or risk his anger at her defiance Felicia met her master’s gaze.
“There was a concern that I would not be able to fulfill my duty as a servant because of my size. Lord Powel was said to be the one I was most suited for as servant but he saw me and rejected me because of that fact.” Embarrassed at the confession, she looked down, head still held firmly, but gently in her master’s hand.
Master Cyril slid off the bed and came to stand behind her, sliding his hands around her waist once again and leaning his chin on her shoulder. To her surprise, Master Donovan let out a growl and slammed his lips to hers, giving her a feral kiss. Letting out a startled moan, Felicia softened, opening her mouth to allow for his entrance.
As Master Donovan’s tongue swept through her mouth Felicia’s heart soared. Master Donovan did not typically loose his composure enough to let out such an animalistic sound out of the bed. That growl was now one of her favorite sounds.

The nerve of some people! To assume that someone was incapable of fulfilling a duty for such a silly reason as size was just, well, silly. Cyril caressed Felicia’s stomach as Donovan got his fill of her mouth.
Felicia’s size was rather pleasing. Though a far cry from skinny, she was not in the least what one could classify as fat. Curvy and plump, soft and supple, flesh meant to be squeezed and caressed. Cyril couldn’t imagine anyone foolish enough to pass up putting his hands on such a beautiful woman.
Turning his head Cyril let his tongue slide along the shell of her ear, slowly drifting down until he reached her earlobe. Once there he used his teeth to tug gently. At Felicia’s shudder he smiled, reaffirming that she knew he was there with her as well. He too had been startled by Donovan’s primal reaction. Although he agreed whole heartedly, such a reaction is not one he would expect from his usually tightly controlled friend and partner.
He supposed that it only showed how firmly attached they both were to Felicia. Oh, sure they both would have been insulted for such treatment of any servant but not with such intensity. Felicia had been theirs for a year and she was already a very important part of them.
Sliding his hands down her hips, Cyril slipped under her skirt, allowing one hand to stroke her inner thigh, the other over her heat. Dropping his head, he splayed kisses all along her shoulder and let his tongue slip out to taste her skin, curving with her flesh. Along the side of her neck he travelled until he made his way back up to her ear. Once there he whispered words of worship to her body.
Their Felicia was, as always, loving the attention they lavished her with. However, Cyril noticed that her muscles quiver and knew it wasn’t from their affections alone.
“Don, maybe we should move this to the bed.” Though he regretted having to interrupt his friend’s display of passion it was his job to see to Felicia’s well-being and right now her body was far too tired to continue to stay up right for much longer.
Cyril watched as Donovan pulled himself away from Felicia, and knew they both felt a jolt of desire hit at the protest she let out. Donovan glanced at Cyril, giving him a nod to let Cyril know he agreed with him, before he picked Felicia up and carted her to the bed.