Knot a Chance: Doms of The Covenant Book 3

by Samantha A. Cole

  Off to the side of the stage, Marco DeAngelis stood with his arms crossed, waiting for Stefan’s signal. For the design he was planning to do tonight, Cassie didn’t need to be laying down while he worked. Each rope he used would be positioned in a certain way and attached to the suspension ring hooked to the chain dangling from the ceiling. Once he had her all set, Master Marco would support Cassie’s tilting body as Stefan pulled on a smaller chain that would elevate her until she was lying horizontally four feet off the ground. If Cassie started going deep into subspace before then, Stefan would have Marco lend a hand by supporting her if she began to sway. In the past, Stefan had seen more than one sub go too deep before he’d finished tying them up, and they’d nearly crashed to the floor. After the first time, when he’d, luckily, scooped the woman up before she fell, he always had another Dom nearby if he was working on a standing sub. When they were kneeling, sitting, or supine, it didn’t matter, since he would have them either on a massage table or a large padded mat on the floor.

  After selecting his first rope, he slowly circled the naked sub, taking in every inch of her creamy skin from head to toe. She had tan lines from a strapless, string, two-piece bathing suit. Next time he played with her, he’d make her a bikini out of his ropes—one that squeezed her breasts and had a knot that sat right over her clit.

  Stefan ran a finger from her bent elbow, up her arm, and across her chest, stopping to flick each nipple, which tightened. He was blessed with a sharp hitch of her breath.

  “You’re very pretty, my little pixie. I can’t wait to see how exquisite you make my ropes.” No, he hadn’t reversed his words by accident. It wasn’t his ropes that made his designs so gorgeous and mesmerizing, it was the subs who submitted to him and allowed themselves to be restrained. He thought the same thing about women’s fashion—it wasn’t the clothes that made a woman beautiful, it was the woman who made the clothes look beautiful. When a woman had the confidence to own any room she walked into, that was one of the sexiest things in the world to him. Of course, there was a difference between cocky and confident.

  Rounding to her back, he tied her forearms together, without letting the rope wrap around either wrist. He wouldn’t attach this rope to the harness he would create on her upper torso to avoid the risk of damaging the nerves in her arms. Once he had her arms secured, he selected another rope to start on the harness. As he worked, braiding, tucking, twisting, and knotting, he continually checked to make sure the ropes weren’t too tight so as to damage her skin or cut off the circulation. Within moments, Stefan was in his zone, the one where everyone else disappeared except the sensual submissive who was on the edge of euphoria. The rope went around her upper arms, twice, crisscrossing over her chest before he brought it up and over her shoulders. He then weaved an intricate knot along her spine. The ropes were placed strategically, some of which would be connection points to the suspension ring, which would support the main load of the sub’s weight when she was lifted off the ground. Slowly but efficiently, he maneuvered the rope around her upper torso. When he reached the end of one, he tied it off and started with another. Every so often, he would bring the working end of the rope out and through the suspension ring, knotting it and leaving some slack for later when he began to lift her. Another rope was threaded through the lines between Cassie and the ring. Using bridge knots, it added extra support which would also keep the other ropes at the proper distance from each other.

  “How’re you doing, little pixie?” he asked when he ended up facing her again, wrapping the jute around her hips. “Open your eyes and give me a color.”

  “Green, Sir.” Her voice was soft and dreamy, and her eyes were dilated. Yup, she was going under nicely.

  “Good girl. Please let me know if you are feeling dizzy, can't breathe easily, or if anything hurts.”

  “Yes, Sir. Right now, I don’t have any dizziness, trouble breathing, or pain.” He liked how she repeated each one back to him, so there were no misunderstandings. “I’m a little lightheaded, but nothing that hasn’t happened when I’ve been restrained before. It’s the start of subspace for me.”

  Stefan grinned and flicked her nipple, eliciting a moan from her, before he continued. Dropping to his knees, he wrapped and knotted the rope around one thigh, below the point where it could pinch the femoral artery, and then brought the working end up and tied it to the suspension ring. He did the same thing above her knee with another rope. After he checked her circulation, he slid his hands down to her lower calf, where he repeated the process one more time a few inches above her ankle.

  Turning his head, he gestured for Marco to join them in the middle of the stage. When the Dom stopped next to Cassie, Stefan instructed, “Just hold her upper arm, in case she sways . . . good.” He gently tapped the sub’s leg, the one furthest from the suspension ring. “Cassie, bend your knee and put the sole of your foot against your other leg.”

  After making sure Marco was keeping her well balanced, Stefan tied a rope around Cassie’s other calf, then secured it to the ring. Starting at her lower legs, Stefan inspected every knot, every twist, and every line his ropes made. He double checked Cassie’s circulation and the rigging attached to the ring. Once he was certain everything was in order, he addressed Marco. “Place one hand behind her neck and the other on the front of her shoulder. As I pull her feet off the floor, maintain just enough pressure to keep her from spinning forward or backward until she’s fully horizontal. As she rises, move the hand on her shoulder to the side of her head. I’ll then set her head lower than the rest of her, so there’s no strain on her neck and shoulders.”

  “Got it.”

  Once Stefan had her suspended, he’d only have a maximum of twenty minutes to get her off and for the audience to admire his work. Any longer, and he risked giving her nerve damage.

  He turned back to Cassie. “How are you, little pixie? Give me a color.”

  She cracked opened her eyes, and he could see she was in subspace. A dreamy look filled her beautiful face, and it was difficult for her to keep her heavy eyelids up. She was basically drunk on the endorphins coursing through her body. “Still green, Sir. No pain, tingling, or dizziness.”

  “Good girl. Are you ready to fly?”

  Her eyelids fell again. “Yes, Sir.”

  Perfect.

  Stepping over to the edge of the stage, Stefan unhooked the smaller chain from the hardpoint, holding it so the suspension ring on the other chain didn’t drop to the floor. Slowly, hand over hand, he pulled on the chain connected to the pulley system, and the ring Cassie was attached to began to ascend. When the lines between her and the ring grew taut, she began to rise with them. Her body went lax as Marco supported her head and neck. Her one knee remained bent as her thighs spread a little more. She looked stunning as he lifted her higher and higher. With the shorter ropes attached to her legs, they became elevated a few inches above her upper torso, tilting her head downward. When she was about four feet off the ground, he hooked the chain to the hardpoint again, making sure it was secure.

  He strode toward her and nodded at Marco. “You can let go now.”

  The man removed his hands and stepped back to the side of the stage again. He’d remain there for the rest of the scene in case of an emergency.

  Stefan circled Cassie, rechecking all the knots, connection points, and her circulation. Her hands and feet were still a good color and temperature. He could smell her arousal, which had increased while he’d worked the ropes around her. Pushing on her shoulder, he slowly spun her around for the audience to see. Faint murmurs of appreciation reached his ears as the club members fixated on Cassie. Her eyes remained shut with a look of pure contentment on her face.

  She was an amazing submissive, one of the best he’d ever scened with. For being such a good girl, now came her ultimate reward. His hand went between her legs where she was warm, wet, and completely bare for him. He toyed with her clit, drawing a sexy gasp and moan from her. She couldn’t move and was co
mpletely at his mercy. If time weren’t a factor, he’d play with her like this all night.

  Sliding the fingers of his other hand into her pussy, he enjoyed the heat he found. Her walls were already rippling, anticipating the climax that was so close. She was so turned on it would only take a few moments to have her coming. “I want to hear you scream for me, little pixie. I want them to hear you taking your pleasure all the way out in the parking lot.”

  “Oh, God! Yes, Sir! Please!” Her breathy voice made him hard as a rock, and, once more, he regretted not being able to fuck her with his cock right now.

  He began to plunge his fingers in and out of her, over and over, while torturing her swollen clit. Her breathing increased as well as her moaning and begging. Knowing he was running out of time, he searched for and found her G-spot, pressing on it and her clit at the same time. She clenched around his fingers and exploded, wailing with her release for all to hear.

  When her body sagged against the ropes, Stefan reluctantly withdrew from her core. Unable to help himself, he licked his fingers clean. She tasted delicious. This sub was one he was definitely going to have to play with again for so many reasons, and, next time, his cock would be inside her when she came.

  Returning to the edge of the stage, he unhooked the chain and slowly lowered her body to the mat on the floor. As he was striding back to her, so he could start removing the ropes, the audience broke out in applause. He hoped it was in response to his beautiful sub, instead of his rope work, because she deserved all the credit in this scene.

  Stefan knelt next to Cassie and studied her face, where he saw nothing but utter bliss. When he reverently stroked her cheek, she opened her eyes halfway, smiled at him, and whispered, “Thank you, Sir, that was wonderful.”

  “Yes, my little pixie. It most certainly was.”

  16

  Present . . .

  At 1300 hours, Stefan knocked on Captain Lowe’s office door at USCG Sector St. Petersburg and waited for permission to enter. When it was granted, he pushed the door open and walked in before halting, tucking the small box he was carrying under his left arm. He stood stiffly at attention and brought his right hand up to his temple to salute his superior officer. “Lieutenant Commander Lundquist reporting as ordered, sir.”

  “At ease, LC.” Lowe said, before Stefan had barely finished his greeting, and gestured to the door, not bothering to rise from behind his desk. “Close the door and have a seat.”

  Okay, so this was going to be at least a somewhat informal yet closed-door meeting. Under the circumstances, that wasn’t a good thing, in Stefan’s opinion. It had been three weeks since his heart attack and four days since his appointment with Commander Harrison, a physician with the Medical Evaluation Board. Stefan was pretty sure he was looking at the end of his career with the Coast Guard, but a small part of him was holding onto a thread of hope. After his exam, the commander hadn’t told Stefan what his decision would be, stating he had to review all the medical records and test results from the hospital before making his final recommendation to the board.

  Taking one of the two guest chairs in front of the desk, Stefan set the box on the other one and waited for the captain to continue. The man leaned back in his luxurious, leather executive chair and eyed him. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Great, sir,” he lied. “The rehab therapists are getting me back to where I was before. Should be—”

  His eyes narrowing, Lowe held up a hand, stopping him. “Commander, I want the fucking truth. Not some bullshit you’ve been spouting to everyone else. We’ve known each other a long time now—don’t try to snow me.”

  It was true. Lowe had been Stefan’s commander at Air Station Atlantic City, in New Jersey, before being promoted to captain and transferred to Florida. Two years later, Stefan had been promoted to Lieutenant and transferred to Air Station Clearwater, where he was once more under Lowe’s command. Stefan was eventually promoted again to his current rank. He’d had an opportunity to transfer to Air Station Miami but chose to remain in Clearwater. He’d fallen in love with the Gulf Coast and the Tampa area and had also made a lot of friends there, in and out of the Coast Guard. Relocating and starting over hadn’t even been an option for him when he’d been presented with the choice, and he’d turned down the transfer after only thinking it over for all of fifteen minutes—fourteen minutes longer than he’d truly needed.

  Taking a deep breath, Stefan exhaled slowly. “Okay, sir, all bullshit aside. I no longer feel like a ninety-pound weakling that has to stand there and take it if a two-hundred-pound bully kicked sand in my face. That being said, I’m still not able to go toe to toe with one yet, either. I’d probably end up on my ass after half a round.” It was the first time he’d admitted that to anyone, but his captain had earned and deserved the truth.

  Stefan thought about Cassie—she deserved the truth too, especially since he didn’t think she believed him every time he told her he was just fine. She’d been over to his townhouse quite a few times since the night she’d brought him dinner and caught him playing basketball. Word had spread among the neighborhood kids about Cassie’s directive, and they were taking it seriously. Anytime Stefan was outside, while they were shooting hoops or playing catch or stickball, he could watch, but if he tried to join in, they’d say he wasn’t allowed to. At first, it’d annoyed him, but now it was a running joke. He would fake attempting to play, and there was always a chorus of “bugger off” when he did. It sounded like the neighborhood had been invaded by a bunch of Brits.

  The first time Cassie had come over after that, Stefan had kinda suckered her in. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it but was glad he had. He’d met with Vivian Dickson, the nutritionist, before his rehab session, and had received a list of cardiac-friendly and -unfriendly foods. Surprisingly, prior to the heart attack, there had been some foods on his mostly healthy diet that he now had to get rid of and others he had to add. Using that, he’d played a little dumb and asked Cassie if she wouldn’t mind helping him with the grocery shopping and cleaning out his pantry and refrigerator, that following Friday, knowing she had no classes after work. He wasn’t sure if she’d figured out it was just a ploy so he could spend time with her, but she’d agreed. Since then, she’d come over often to help him try out several new heart-healthy recipes. He’d told her to bring her homework and study at his place if she needed to. While she did that, he cooked or caught up on his fiction reading. Stefan was enjoying those nights more than he’d expected to, and he missed his little pixie the nights she had class or other plans. So far, their time together had been strictly platonic, and while he would love to sink his cock into her sweet body again, he’d grown comfortable with their non-sexual time. In fact, he was craving it almost as much as their playtime when she wasn’t there.

  “How’s the rehab going?” the captain asked.

  He shrugged. “It’s going. I keep trying to push myself, and the therapists and my body keep telling me not to.” He’d had his latest session that morning, and although it was nowhere near what he’d been doing prior to his heart attack, Dewayne had increased some of the weights and aerobic exercises. Cassie had given Stefan an encouraging smile when the therapist had rattled off the new speed and incline on his treadmill.

  “You’ll get there.”

  When the other man absentmindedly tapped his desk and didn’t say anything more, Stefan stared at him, his damaged heart sinking. “Yeah, I’ll get there . . . but not here, right?”

  Lowe shook his head in obvious regret that he was the bearer of bad news. “I’m sorry, but no. I spoke to Commander Harrison, this morning. He’s recommending the MEB give you a medical discharge.”

  Stefan’s entire body sagged. That last thread of hope had snapped in two. “Shit.” He ran a hand down his freshly shaven face and thought for a few seconds. “I-I can appeal the decision, right?”

  After a moment of silence, Lowe leaned forward and crossed his arms on his desk. “Yes, you can. It’ll take a while for
them to process everything, so you have a few weeks to decide to appeal if you think your cardiologist and therapists can convince the board you’re fit for duty. But, honestly, son, I think it’ll be a waste of time. And, even if you do somehow manage to have the decision overturned—which, after my conversation with Harrison, I doubt you’ll be able to—you’ll be looking at a desk job. Working in the SSC will no longer be an option. The Guard won’t risk a commander, with a pre-existing heart attack that resulted in a cardiac arrest, having another life-threatening medical event in the middle of a critical rescue.”

  Fuck, he hadn’t thought of that. A pencil-pushing desk job would suck more than sitting at home, twiddling his thumbs.

  “Look, Stefan, this sucks—I get that—you’re being forced out fifteen, twenty years before you were planning on leaving on your own terms. But things could’ve been a lot worse. First off, you’re alive and will still be able to do most of the things you could do before, even if you’re not one hundred percent yet. You’re retiring at a rank with a good disability pension rate, on top of that trust fund you told me about, so buy yourself a boat, go fishing to your heart’s content, find a good woman to settle down with, and see the world. I know some people don’t realize it, but there’s more to life than just the Guard. It’s your turn to discover that.”

  Stefan let out a soft huff. Captain Lowe meant well, since he’d been happily married to his wife of twenty-eight years, Cynthia. She was a marine biologist, and, according to her husband, it’d been love at first sight. The captain was also on the tail end of his career, facing mandatory retirement in three years at the age of sixty-two. While some lifers didn’t look forward to retirement, thinking they’d be bored out of their skull—Stefan now knew how they felt—Lowe was the complete opposite. He and Cynthia were already mapping out their road trip across the country in the RV they were going to purchase. Apparently, there was something called the Great American Bucket List—fifty things to do in the United States before you die. The Lowes planned to experience every one of them.