Caught by Two Doms
By
Holly S. Roberts
§
A Club El Diablo Book
Published by H.S. Roberts
[email protected]
http://clubeldiablo.blogspot.com
Caught by Two Doms
A Club El Diablo Book
Sequel: Two Doms for Angel
Printing History
First Edition: August 2013
All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
This is a work of fiction. ALL characters are derived from the author’s imagination.
No person, brand, or corporation mentioned in this Book should be taken to have endorsed this Book nor should the events surrounding them be considered in any way factual.
Chapter One
Monroe
When he created art, his mind traveled a transcendental journey. His brain craved the endorphins released when he mastered the rope, using bondage to fulfill his need to fully dominate on all levels. He compared this unique high with a submissive in subspace—a place where the world existed on a different plane. Where his universe became a tight steady coil of energy between him and his model, or, during this past year, his two exclusive models.
The double length of rope slipped through Monroe’s fingers as he crafted the picture only his mind could see. His thoughts, though attentive to his subjects, synchronized with the intricacies of the bondage and echoed in his mind.
Angel was like the rope… she called to the inner reaches of his soul. Each human thread twined together, creating silky—flawless—beauty. He looked at the swells of delicate flesh molded by the bindings. When removed, the strands left behind telltale indentations and bruising—the exquisite impressions of his art, incomplete until his fingers traveled each furrow. Monroe shook his head slightly, smiling to himself as his cock swelled with longing to sink into her sweet, fuckable mouth. Until Angel, he hadn’t fully understood the art of touch that resonated deep inside his subconscious. But with her, he wanted everything... mind, body, and soul. It always amazed him that she unconditionally gave it all.
His attention turned to his other subject.
In contrast, Zachary embodied the intricate knots. A helix of complexity twining into tightly coiled bindings of earth and fire. His heat—an inferno of justice burdened by humanity. Compassion, buried just beneath the nexus of braid, completely honorable and absolutely un… touchable.
The rope glided with choreographed movement, sinking Monroe further within his creation. He absorbed the combined essence of Zachary and Angel, letting the cord sculpt their bodies. Both remained quiet, their breathing controlled and synchronized. Without conscious thought, Monroe looked into their eyes—one pair an ocean blue, and the other a shade of green that changed with mood. He judged their compliance, so different from each other—both needing fulfillment, but only one relishing it.
Angel’s blissful smile took Monroe further down his path. He cherished her honest submission, the complete acquiescence to his control—absolute trust and unquestionable love. He momentarily focused on her because she left no room for doubt.
Glancing up from the final knot, Monroe looked into Zachary’s hazel depths; the green, now overshadowed by brownish gold flakes. Bondage gave Zachary the opportunity to yield, though he never crossed the final barrier. A minuscule spark of stubbornness continued holding him captive in his inability to fully submit.
Zachary had returned to their lives a year ago. In some ways things improved, but in others… nothing changed. A ménage à trois, complex in its sensual giving yet stalled by Zachary’s invisible shields. Monroe knew time was the key, but he asked for this session today because he no longer had time.
He kneeled on the mat, touched the button on the electronic winch, and then watched their bodies sway.
Breathtaking.
Hot, burning desire sent a jolt to his hard cock. He reached out and pushed Angel’s thigh to increase the movement. Five minutes passed as they allowed him the precious gift of admiring his art. How many times had they fallen under the spell of the rope? How many times had Zachary refused Monroe’s silent call for submission?
Reality slowly came into focus and Monroe stopped his mental questions. He stood, adjusted the special lighting, and then walked over and picked up the camera to capture portraits of what he’d named “Divine Bondage.” Click, click, click… he used black and white film because it picked up the nuances of his design, but no picture would ever capture the heartfelt devotion he felt at the design’s completion.
Setting the camera down, he grasped the back of Angel’s neck and slowly pulled her close, running his nose along her hairline to her ear. “I love you,” he whispered while inhaling the sweet spice of her skin.
She smiled softly, glazed eyes showing her level of subspace. Without releasing Angel, he ran his other hand over Zachary’s torso, skimming the bindings. He ignored Zachary’s slight flinch and continued until he held his jaw. No words passed Monroe’s lips as he allowed his captive’s eyes to shift away. Fuck it. Monroe’s lips briefly met Zachary’s forehead. He had not planned it, but Zachary’s musky scent pulled him in. A hint of sweat transferred to his lips and his tongue slid over the salty taste, absorbing it into his cells.
He glanced up.
Zachary’s gaze burned with angry displeasure.
Damn. He should not have risked their fragile relationship by letting his feelings for Zachary flow past their tentative alliance where Angel reposed in the middle. She was their strength, the bond that held the men together. Monroe’s dreams were not just of the intricate patterns of art, or the depressions from rope pressed onto Angel’s flesh… he ached for Zachary.
Silently, Monroe pressed the button to partially lower the winch. He then unfurled Zachary’s bindings, stopping to massage ripples of tight muscle held immobile throughout the scene. It was the only time, outside of the bondage itself that Zachary allowed him unrestricted touch, and Monroe shamelessly took advantage.
Angel remained motionless, deep within her intoxication. She amazed him each time—a Shibari model extraordinaire, with grace, beauty, and discipline. The last of the rope fell from Zachary’s sculpted frame. Monroe turned away and began meticulously wrapping each fallen length of rope exactly as he preferred them, and gave Zachary the gift of extracting Angel from the web.
His cock was painfully erect as he watched Zachary and Angel from the corner of his eye. Across Zachary’s arms, back, and thighs, the indents of the rope and knots had left their mark. They would fade quickly, unlike Angel’s. But those marks on Zachary’s body turned Monroe on more than if the man went to his knees and gave him a blowjob. His cock jumped and he reassessed his thinking. Zachary’s lips on his cock would set him off with the first touch, no doubt.
Angel came free and Zachary picked her up, walking toward the dungeon without a backward glance. Monroe loosely circled each thirty-five foot section of rope and then placed them back in their cabinet along the far wall. He picked up a safety knife and the emergency scissors and put them in their proper drawer. The methodical work finally allowed him to gain control of his cock. Marguerite, his housekeeper, would clean the dried sweat from the mat, but Monroe took the time to move the custom-wheeled lights back into their corner.
He looked around. The call of the rope lingered. With the sad knowledge that he would not be back for some time, he turned off the overhead lights and followed the same path Zachary took ten minutes before.
The smell of the room always caused a pleasant tightening
to his balls—leather, lemon oil, and a hint of sex. It hung in the air, creating the perfect dungeon for kinky play. Monroe preferred rope, while Zachary preferred pain mixed with pleasure. Often they combined the three, but today Monroe wanted to be part of Zachary’s fulfillment. He watched as the complicated man smoothed his hands over Angel’s thighs and ass. Zachary was unequivocally an ass man.
Angel rested on the spanking bench, her rounded bottom in the air, with lingering marks from the rope, but without the redness caused by impact play. Zachary would change that. Monroe gave a slight smile, noticing her unsecured wrist and ankle cuffs. He walked over and attached them to tethers made just for this purpose. Angel’s breathing accelerated as he ran his fingers through the strands of her unbound hair. It had finally grown to reach her mid-back. A year and a half ago, it had fallen to mid-thigh. The shearing of her hair had been a parting gift for Zachary when he left them.
Monroe watched Zachary turn and grab implements from a side cabinet, unconcerned with his nakedness even after Monroe’s slip in their tentative protocol. Monroe remained clothed for now. Zachary walked back carrying a tawse, strap, and anal plug. Monroe turned and took lube from a drawer close to Angel’s head, while Zachary laid his tools within her line of sight. Her breathing hitched, but then she slowly exhaled.
Monroe ran his fingers over the slight swelling on her arms caused by the bondage rope. The marks attracted his touch and he smiled, knowing he would dream about her like this no matter how far away he traveled.
“Monroe?”
His head snapped in Zachary’s direction, seeing the hand held out for the lube. He handed it over and leaned in to whisper in Angel’s ear. “He is in a mood today, love, and I believe your ass will receive the brunt of his discontent.”
She grinned without worry, squirming slightly with excitement. The slap to her bottom caused her to pull in a quick supply of air and focus on Zachary.
“Be still.” Zachary’s voice came out throaty but firm.
“Yes, Sir.” She looked up and smiled into Monroe’s eyes.
He ran his hand between the table and her chest, taking a nipple between his fingertips and rolling it gently before applying a sharp pinch. Her smile disappeared as she bucked her chest away, causing further discomfort to herself. He released the pearly nub and gave equal attention to her other nipple, but this time she remained still. “Good girl.”
Her loud groan came not from the nipple play but the ass plug Zachary inserted. “Shhh,” Zachary said while fully seating the plug. “I want your ass when Monroe takes your pussy.”
She took several shallow breaths and said, “Yes,” on a sigh. “Please.”
Zachry picked up the tawse and gave a sharp smack to her right ass cheek, then ran his fingers over the red welt he left behind. It blended into the rope’s indentation. “I want this,” his fingers caressed her ass, “nice and red when I take it. Now, eyes front.” He hit her other ass cheek before she had a chance to comply.
Within five minutes, the intensity level rose and Zachary switched to the strap. Using her hair, Monroe pulled her head up and slightly back. “You are doing well, love. Is your pussy wet?”
She cried out when Zachary landed a particularly stinging strike. “Yes, Master.” Her breath was now coming in gasps and she tried wiggling away, unable to get far. Zachary stopped, lay down the strap, and slid two fingers between her swollen, wet folds.
He brought his glistening fingers to his lips, slowly licking the essence of her sex. “I will never tire of this.” His eyes partially closed, but then opened when he turned to Monroe. “I want her in the chair.”
Monroe didn’t answer, just began removing his clothing while Zachary picked up the strap and applied a few more biting strikes. Angel begged with a soft moan, “Please, Sir.”
“Yes, I please.” He didn’t stop his next swing or the next.
Monroe released her wrist restraints, but held her hands tightly until Zachary sat the strap aside. He then dropped her delicate arms and walked to their special chair. He sat down just as Zachary picked up Angel, walked over, and lowered her to sit astride Monroe’s legs.
“Hold her still while I remove the plug.”
She did not moan like she had when the cool metal entered her ass, but her breath was now coming in short gasps. She loved the custom-designed chair and sometimes begged the men to take her to the dungeon just to take advantage of it. This was a far cry from her shyness in the beginning of their relationship. Both men loved that she now felt comfortable enough to voice her needs.
But… right now… this was about Zachary.
After removing the plug, Zachary positioned her legs and then pulled back on her hair while Monroe brought her forward, impaling himself within her warm pussy. Zachary reached around and took her breasts into his hands, giving himself leverage. “Are you slick enough for me?” he asked in a low voice.
“Yes, Sir, please.”
“I please.”
Monroe felt her body tighten and then go soft to make Zach’s entry easier. He massaged her upper arms, helping her relax while she accepted Zachary’s full penetration. When Zachary was fully seated, Monroe grabbed her hips and pushed her away, sliding his cock almost completely out. Zachary accommodated the movement and remained inside until Monroe brought her in close again. They set the rhythm by instinct, judging how close she was to orgasm and adjusted the pace to make their ecstasy last. Monroe took her lips and absorbed the small sounds she made within his mouth. When her cries became frantic, Monroe stopped pushing her off his cock and slid in deep, feeling the extra tightness caused by Zach’s dick rammed far up her ass.
Angel screamed, her body shuddering as both men penetrated her at the same time. Zach’s teeth sank into her shoulder where other similar bruises marked her skin. Monroe could almost feel Zach’s bite in his own flesh. His balls tightened one last time and then released, flooding her pussy with cum while feeling some of the liquid heat from Zach’s body flow onto his thighs.
If time could stand still.
Chapter Two
Angel
She loved their special time after leaving the dungeon—her men bathed, pampered, and cherished her. They seemed relaxed, their focus entirely on making her feel loved. Angel tried to ignore the small flutter in her stomach telling her all was not right in their world. Master embodied absolute control, but even in the reaches of subspace she saw the kiss. It was more a touch of Master’s lips, but it crossed the invisible line Sir marked in the sand.
Sir washed her hair, massaging his fingertips into her scalp, while Master’s wet hands smoothed across the lines on her flesh created by the rope. Master’s touch held a mystical quality.
She couldn’t help the uncertainty she felt due to the kiss, and her mind drifted to Hooriya, the other her, the woman she once was. Hooriya died to escape an honor killing by her family. But the frighteningly real memories of torture and death remained deep within the reaches of Angel’s mind. Master and Sir rescued her from that world. They didn’t think her unclean. To them, she was honorable and they daily built her feelings of self-worth. In return, she offered everything.
After their ritualistic time of pampering, they sat down at the large dining room table for dinner. Angel looked at her food, feeling a lump swell in her throat. The sound of Master’s chair scraping against the floor gave her a start, but she kept her head down. He gently pulled her up and directed her to the floor by his chair, nodding for her to kneel. Even though she knew it bothered Sir, she gratefully sank into position, feeling such an incredible thrill submitting to Master’s dominance. The delicious taste of herbed chicken passed her lips, fed by Master’s hand. She automatically chewed then swallowed.
“Good girl.”
His voice sent shivers across her skin and she opened her mouth for the next delectable morsel. The rolling in her stomach eased and peace settled around her. Master always knew. He could be doing one hundred other things, but his awareness of her never sto
pped.
“What’s going on, Monroe?”
Her head jerked to Sir, and she guessed that he felt the uncertainties that had clouded their day. The fact he brought it up in front of her didn’t bode well. She lowered her eyes back to the floor, feeling her heartbeat accelerate.
Master’s hand settled on her head, gently smoothing her hair. “I leave in the morning. There is unfinished business that I must attend.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Sir toss his napkin down. “Fucking spy business you mean?” He stood and walked a few feet from the table.
Master continued the slow, sensuous motion of his hand on her head, offering comfort.
“Is that what that fucking kiss was about?”
“Zachary.” Master’s sharp voice resounded throughout the room and his comforting touch stilled.
She dropped protocol and gazed between the two men. Sir glanced her way and the stricken look on his face made her heart seize. She knew they occasionally argued, but around her, they rarely raised their voices.
Sir turned and left the room without a word.
Master’s fingers tipped her chin in his direction. “I am sorry, Angel. I have no choice in this matter or I would not leave either of you.”
He held her chin, but her eyes dropped, fighting tears.
“Come.” He stood and lifted her to her feet.
She glanced back at their barely touched food, thinking she needed to remove the dishes to the kitchen.
Master spoke, “Marguerite will take care of it.”
“Undress for me, love.” He said when they reach his room.
His intense brown eyes shone in the soft light and she could do nothing but comply. She yearned to give him everything he desired. He undressed quickly and sat on the side of the bed waiting. She couldn’t help admiring his wiry muscular build, which was very unlike Sir’s more heavily defined muscle. She could feel his eyes piercing her flesh as she, ever so slowly, folded her clothing and set it neatly aside just the way he liked.
Caught By Two Doms (Club El Diablo (Angel's Doms Book 2)) Page 1