Bad Boy Dom

by Holly Roberts

  Her tears started and my hand moved from her ass to run over her back. I let her cry.

  “You don’t understand!”

  “No, maybe not. But I want to.”

  “I won’t fit in your world.” Her breaths were coming in fast gasps.

  “You’ll fit.”

  “No, Krispin, I won’t.”

  “So tell me why?”

  “I’m a mental case.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “You’ve met my friends. You think I care?”

  “I take drugs to keep me sane.” There was anger in her voice now.

  Six this time, three on each cheek.

  “I hate you.”

  “No, I think you love me but it scares you.”

  “No, it terrifies me.”

  Six more.

  “God, would you just fuck me, please?”

  “I don’t think so. You’re finally talking.”

  “I hate you!” She slapped the bed with the palms of her hands this time, and her feet jerked as if she wanted to throw a full-out tantrum. “I so fuckin’ hate you right now!”

  “You need to broaden your speech capabilities.”

  “Fuck you!”

  I just kept making slow steady circles with my hand.

  She let loose another huff of air. “I’m not normal!”

  “Neither am I.”

  “You’re weird,” she said. “But I go crazy.”

  “We’re all crazy.” My hand landed twice.

  “Not off the deep-end crazy like me.”

  “I’ve seen your ‘off the deep-end crazy’ and it scared the shit out of me, but I’m still here.”

  “Please, Krispin, just fuck me.”

  “I plan on it, but only after our conversation is finished.”

  “It… won’t… work.” Huge, gulping tear-filled breaths accompanied her words.

  I turned her over so I could look into her face.

  “It will work,” I said firmly, cupping her wet cheek with my palm. “We’ll make it work.”

  “No! Nothing in my life works! Only the constant of the club, and even then, not all the time.”

  “I’m your constant now.”

  “Your life is crazy.”

  “Yep. But I love you. I just need to know if you love me.”

  Her soft hair floated down against my chest as her body turned to liquid and slumped against me.

  “I love the way you smell,” I said, romancing her with my voice as I picked up a piece of her hair and ran in under my nose. “I love the way you fuck me.”

  She giggled; that was good.

  “I love the way you walk,” I continued, “and watching your ass sway makes me hard.”

  “You’re weird.”

  “Only to you.” I tugged her hair, making her look at me. “Do you love me?”

  She tried to turn away but I held tight. “If you don’t, I’ll just work harder until you do.” I lifted my other hand and wiped the tears that began falling again. “We need each other.”

  “Krispin….”

  “And I love the way you say my name.”

  “Sir.”

  “That name, too. I need a favor from you.”

  “If I give it, will you fuck me?”

  “Oh, you’re getting fucked, regardless.”

  “Promise?”

  “Favor?”

  “What’s the favor?”

  “I need you to go somewhere with me tomorrow.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m not telling you, I just need you with me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thank you.” And with no further discussion, I fucked her long into the night.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Angela…

  I felt thoroughly sore, lovingly-fucked, and completely miserable. So many people believed in me but the one person who mattered most thought I was a lost cause. That one person wasn’t Lydia, Damian, or Krispin, it was me. They seemed willing to sail me over the rising waves but the sea of depression had a way of slithering back into my life. It always did.

  I lay in Krispin’s bed, watching the rise and fall of his chest until finally, I couldn’t take any more, and feathered my hand across his sculpted torso, traveling the lines of muscle until I reached his nipple. His breathing stopped for a moment and I knew he was awake but he let me continue my quest.

  I brought my mouth to the small, stiffened peak, and swirled my tongue, gently sucking the bud between my lips. When he finally moved, it was quick and I couldn’t help my squeal of surprise. In half a blink, I was lying beneath him and his forehead dipped down to rest against mine.

  “I love you.”

  “Please, Sir, will you do something about it?”

  “No, because we have an appointment and slept in too long.”

  I didn’t have time to complain before he jumped from the bed and then lifted me into his arms. He dumped me in the shower after adjusting the water but only joined me to wash us both quickly and efficiently. He gave me five minutes to do something with my hair and get dressed. While I stood in the bathroom applying a small amount of makeup, I heard his low murmur while he spoke on his cell phone but I couldn’t hear what he said.

  Wade drove us again but this time when we pulled into a parking lot of an older rundown section of LA, he got out and followed us. Krispin kept a tight hold on my hand as a crowd of about fifty people, mostly men, met us as we rounded the corner. They stood in small groups and smoked cigarettes like it was saving their lungs instead of destroying them. A few greeted Krispin by name but most ignored us. We entered the building through a single door to find more people milling around. There were approximately one-hundred metal folding chairs set up, facing forward in the stark unadorned room. The air carried the smell of cigarettes even though no one smoked inside.

  Small pieces of paper, a few baseball caps like Krispin’s, and even a plastic fork marked the reserved chairs. Krispin led us to a large metal coffee urn and poured us some of the dark potent smelling liquid. I nodded yes when he asked if I wanted cream and sugar. Even diluted it tasted strong and bitter. Almost everyone in the room had a small white cup, water bottle, or can of soda.

  Wade walked away and found a lone empty seat. A rugged gentleman nodded at Krispin. He tightened his fingers around mine and led me over. We took the two chairs beside the man. As if an unheard bell sounded, the smokers and non-smokers made their way to their marked seats.

  The man beside Krispin stood and walked to the front of the room.

  “My name is Barry Levins,” he said in a loud, gruff voice, “and I’m an alcoholic. The purpose of AA is to stay sober and help other alcoholics to achieve sobriety. This is an open meeting and some of you have brought friends and family. They are here for support, but this is not the venue for them to speak. I would like anyone new to stand and give a short introduction. Please begin with ‘I am an alcoholic’ and also list any other addictions you have.”

  I was stunned. Krispin, with more money than God, sat with these almost derelict people, part of their group, and obviously in need of their support. I wanted to cover my face and cry.

  New members began standing, making their introductions. For most, their difficulty in facing their demon was obvious. Krispin continued to hold my hand but his eyes followed around the room as he watched each person give of themselves and take their first step. When the room went quiet again, he released my hand and walked to the front. My heart cried for his incredible courage.

  The other man shook his hand and then came to sit beside me.

  “Hi, my name is Krispin Righteous and I am an alcoholic and a drug addict. I have been sober and drug free for eighteen months. On the worst day of my life, I physically hurt a woman. That was when I reached rock bottom and decided to climb out of the pit. I am a better man but I fight this disease daily.”

  My eyes were riveted as I listened to Krispin tell the story of his downfall. He made no excuses and told of none of his inherent goodness
. My tears dripped from my cheeks, landing on the front of my shirt. I couldn’t even wipe them away, just sat in stunned silence with a full heart. I wanted to bury his head against my chest and give comfort. Comfort he wasn’t asking for. All he wanted was my love.

  My mind whirled; Angela, the fucked-up head case was needed in the worst way. And, I loved him with every particle of my being. Loved that he was imperfect like me, that he faced his own demons, but could overcome them to offer love and friendship.

  He finally finished and sat back down, drawing me against his side as another man took his place. Five people told their stories. I shed tears for them all and I wasn’t the only one. There was no clapping until afterwards when “sober coins” were issued. One by one, people were called forward and applause filled the room in acknowledgment of the obstacles these people had overcome.

  At last, information was given about the list of AA members available as sponsors willing and able to help new attendees. Then everyone joined in for the Serenity Prayer. As the meeting broke up, a few people approached Krispin, giving him pats on the back, shaking his hand or —in the case of two women —hugging him. He introduced me and finally turned to the man who held our seats.

  “Barry, this is Angela, the woman I’ve been telling you about.”

  “Hi Angela, I’m glad you could attend with Krispin.”

  Wade made his way over to us. I had completely forgotten about him. His soft smile reassured me that he was okay. We finally made our way silently to the car.

  Once inside Krispin didn’t speak, just kept his same solid and comforting hold around my shoulders. I rested my head against his chest and breathed in the smell of his body.

  At the house, Wade dropped us off out front and then drove the car away. We were alone.

  Krispin walked me to the kitchen.

  “Would you like some water or juice?”

  “Water, please.”

  I sat down and watched while he filled my glass. Handing it over, he then began making his special concoction of Mountain Dew and hot lemon.

  “I can’t believe you drink that stuff.”

  “Yeah, I know. It really tastes like shit.”

  I almost spit out my water. “Then why do you drink it?”

  “To remind myself that alcohol tastes like shit too but I drank it anyway.”

  “Is this part of the 12-steps?”

  “You could say it’s my 13th-step.”

  “You’re weird.”

  He walked over, and fit himself perfectly between my legs. He leaned in, and his warm breath ran across my ear. “And you love me.”

  I pulled back so I could look into his eyes. “And I love you.”

  “I know.”

  I could only smile but then I felt tears begin to fall again. Strong arms picked me up and carried me to the other room where I found myself sitting in Krispin’s lap.

  “Shhh, Little Bird. Things will be alright.” Soft kisses butterflied along my cheek and jaw.

  “You are so strong,” I said on a hiccup.

  “I wasn’t always, but you make me stronger.”

  “Thank you for taking me.”

  “Now, do we get to take bets on which one of us is fucked up more?”

  “Is ‘us’ really a good idea?”

  “’Us’ is the only idea. I need you. I’m far from perfect, but I can be your strength if you’ll have me.”

  “Sometimes my medication needs to be adjusted and I don’t do as well as you’ve seen me do.”

  “I’ll hold your hand when that happens.”

  “I might not let you hold my hand.”

  “But I’ll still be there. If I slipped and went off the wagon, would you leave me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “That’s what love is, for better or worse. We give each other strength in times of need.”

  “I start cleaning everything when I’m in a bad way. It would drive the sanest person crazy.”

  “You forget, I’m weird. I’ll clean with you.”

  “Will you just play guitar and sing for me while I do it?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “I love you.”

  “I know,” he said, as his nose touched mine. And then his lips took over.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Two months later…

  Krispin…

  Club El Diablo was turned into a flower-filled chamber of love with all of our closest friends. I waited with Matt and Stephon, my best men, as the carousel took a last turn and Damian helped my bride, dressed in yards of white silk, step down from the shiny black wooden horse. Lydia handed her a bouquet of flowers, but I couldn’t even tell you what kind. My eyes were on Angela.

  A minister spoke our vows, which we wrote ourselves. We recited each one while looking into the other’s eyes. It was sappy, completely over the top, and absolutely perfect.

  I, Krispin Dougen Right, promise to laugh and cry with you, share your dreams, show compassion, and understanding. To remain faithful. To respect and cherish you always. To stay by your side during sickness and health. To love you from this day forward for the rest of my life.

  I kissed my bride, thanked the minister, and then released her hand. She walked away with Lydia while I accepted congratulations from our friends. It took her fifteen minutes, with every second being one too long. I removed my formal jacket and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my white dress shirt.

  Lydia walked back in first. When she moved to the side, Angela stood wearing that shiny, sexolicious metal corset that had made my cock stand at flagpole attention the first time I saw her wearing it. It had the same effect today. The skimpy black leather skirt which hugged her ass tightly left nothing to my imagination. Lydia moved in closer beside me.

  “Kneel, Little Bird.” Angela’s Domme said with pride.

  Angela pulled her eyes from mine and looked to her Mistress, then kneeled. Lydia removed the collar from around her neck.

  “I set you free,” Lydia said, placing the collar into Angela’s hands.

  “Thank you.” Angela laid the collar reverently on the floor in front of her. She would keep the collar from Lydia for sentimental reasons, but she would be wearing a new collar now.

  I had the new silver collar specially made by the same designer who’d made the custom metal corset, and they matched beautifully. I ordered it a month before and had insisted Angela wear whatever wedding dress she desired, as long as I chose her collaring ceremony ensemble.

  She smiled as my eyes went from her silvery breasts to her eyes.

  “You are free to choose to wear my collar,” I said. “I offer it to you with the promise to always protect you, find balance in mastering you, and treasure your submission every day of my life.”

  Her eyes never left mine. “Yes, Sir, I accept your collar.”

  My hands stayed rock steady while aligning the links around her throat. Stepping forward, I pushed gently on her head so I could fasten the clasp on the back of her neck. At last, she took my offered hand and rose to stand facing me.

  I clasped both her hands and placed them behind her back, holding them tightly with one of mine. With my other, I took her chin and held her still then slowly lowered my head to possess her lips.

  She was mine and we belonged to each other. The day before, I had helped her scrub the new and already immaculate suite I had purchased at the hotel. We ended up making love on the floor of soapy water after I tipped over the bucket. After, I sang to her while she continued her OCD behavior. It kept her mind off our wedding. I’d learned with her that nothing was ever too clean, including dirty sex, our favorite kind.

  My world tour began in three months and Angela would be there. She could also stay with Lydia and Damon if things got too rough.

  Pulling back, I released her mouth and then looked around at my friends. The cheering began and so did my kinky wedding night.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you again for reading another installment of Club El Diabl
o. Angela captivated my imagination in One Dom at a Time and her “happily ever after” waited patiently for Krispin Righteous, her imperfect Dom, to fill the pages.

  I hope you liked Matt and Stephon as much as I did because they are currently tantalizing my dreams along with the sequel to Two Doms for Angel. It’s such a toss-up on who gets the next story but I promise a threesome (or more).

  I could never do justice to http://www.KinkSmith.com and the incredible silverwork they provide kinksters. Please visit their site and drool along with me. Tell them Holly sent you and if you decide to order the corset, send me a picture so I can salivate some more.

  I researched AA online and found myself amazed again and again over the incredible support they provide. One blog post stood out and helped me write the “meeting” scene. Thank you Michael and may your road to recovery be everlasting and filled with blessings. And thank you Joanne for your amazing typo finding eyes, and the added tweaks to the AA meeting.

  I wrote this story for “B” and your bad boy. I know he was never an alcoholic but really he’s just too perfect, and I had to give him a weakness. I did include his mad guitar skills though.

  Join me on the carousel at http://clubeldiablo.blogspot.com Twitter @clubeldiablo and Facebook http://www.facebook.com/clubeldiablo or send me an email clubeldiablo@gmail.com

  Until next time stay sane, safe, and consensual. Use protection and love deeply as if it’s your last day on earth.

  Holly

  Club El Diablo

  Book I: One Dom at a Time

  Damian & Lydia

  Damian Collins found her in a seedy BDSM club administering a twelve foot bull whip with perfection. Lydia was the most popular Domme in the state and he wanted her for his famous El Diablo Club in Houston.

  Damian is richer than dirt, sexier than sin, and the last man Lydia wants. She was a Dominatrix, in control of her universe, and no one knew her biggest secret; she craved to be mastered in the bedroom.