Rachel berates Marianne

It didn't take too long for Rachel to arrive at Marianne's place. Or at least time passed very quickly for Mackenzie. She stood up, then sat on the sofa quietly, while her friend dressed up frantically and paced quickly around the house. The call with Rachel had changed her mood, going from the smug confidence with which she handled Mackenzie to a visible fluster. Mackenzie was too aroused and frustrated to pay any attention to her friend's antics, her focus taken by the snug grip on the belt.

She heard the door ringing and then the quick conversation that ensued. "Hello, Rach ..." Marianne's greeting was hesitant, at best, if not outright intimidated. "Don't 'Hello Rach' me, bitch!" Rachel's voice was indignated, almost furious. "I thought we agreed she's ours to play with together, not your personal plaything." Mackenzie froze. Being called a 'plaything' did strange things to her: on one hand, it frightened her greatly. On the other, it made her even more aroused than she already was.

"I'm sorry, Rach ... She was already here ... Ouch!" Mackenzie blinked as Rachel entered the room, with Marianne in tow. The redhead forgot for a moment about the belt and frustration as she tried to get over the shock of seeing Rachel pull Marianne by hair into the room. "Shut up!" Rachel called out loudly and Marianne complied. "You." Rachel address Mackenzie. "Come over here."

A perplexed Mackenzie stood up again, approaching her two friends. "What exactly did this little bitch do to you?" Rachel's tone was firm and inquisitive, and Mackenzie went once again beet red as she recalled the earlier moments of her visit. "Mistress?" lashed Rachel at Marianne. "I'll show you ... Mistress."