Master Devon grabbed hold of her ankles, dragging her away from her thoughts and towards him. “Put your feet on my shoulders.”
The position stretched her hamstrings and exposed her pussy. “Hot,” he said, easing into her.
“Ahh!”
“Too much?”
“Yes. No.” Between the plug and the angle, she was still completely overwhelmed. She’d played with him for many years, and he’d never behaved this way. It was as if the two fed off each other.
Gabriel, his cock still looking impressive, joined them. He held a small but lethal whip.
He knelt next to her on the mattress.
She didn’t need any instruction. She fondled his balls and stroked his shaft.
“I’m going to whip your front while Master Devon screws you.”
He whipped her breasts masterfully, catching her nipples with the tips, wrapping the strands around her breasts.
She’d never felt anything more exquisitely torturous. Her body all but convulsed, but she kept licking and jerking him off as Master Devon lifted her behind from the pillows and fucked her cunt hard. He slammed into her again and again.
Master Gabriel angled the whip differently, raining hits all over her front, including her ribs, her belly, and her pelvis with enough intensity to make her body react with a thousand pinpricks of tension, but not cause a lot of pain.
“Come for us,” Master Devon urged. “Clench my cock with your pussy.”
Master Gabriel squeezed one of her breasts. Involuntarily, she clamped down on Master Devon and came almost instantly. “Sir!”
He leant forward to torment her clit. She squeezed her buttocks, feeling the plug, and Master Gabriel continued to beat her.
Impossibly, she came a second time, less than a minute later.
With the force of her orgasm, Master Devon surged forward again, and his eyes closed.
She smiled, filled with a sense of feminine triumph. She’d made two very sexy men come. And they had satisfied her completely.
Master Gabriel pulled her back to the middle of the bed, and he folded her in his arms.
“I’m going to remove your plug,” Master Devon said.
“I might die of embarrassment,” she said.
Master Devon was very matter-of-fact about pulling out the plug and carrying it to the bathroom. It didn’t take away her humiliation, but she could live with it. He used a damp washcloth between her legs. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You know, Master Devon, you’ve been remiss in teaching this sub some manners.”
She gasped.
“She sometimes remembers to say Sir, but she rarely says please or thank you.”
She lay cradled in Master Gabriel’s arms while Master Devon cared for her, and she wished this could last forever. She knew they only had a few more moments, though.
“Last night Master Devon and I were talking,” Master Gabriel commented. “Seems neither of us can get enough of you.”
“The feeling is mutual, Sir.”
“We have no idea how things would work out…”
“We’re not sure if you’d even be willing,” Master Devon cut in.
“What?” she asked, struggling out of Master Gabriel’s arms. She scooted against the headboard and drew her knees to her chest. Protectively, she wrapped her arms around herself. She looked from one man to the other.
This conversation, with all three of them being naked, was surreal.
“We don’t want you to give up the law,” Master Gabriel said. “But we want to find a way to make this last longer than the cruise.”
“Of course,” Master Devon added, “even Gabriel and I aren’t in the same city all the time. We couldn’t promise that this would be easy.”
“I… I’m not sure what to say.” She’d spent her adult life avoiding emotional entanglements so she could focus on her career. A relationship with one overbearing man would be difficult—two would be next to impossible.
“Nothing in life comes with guarantees,” Master Devon said.
“But we will put up with your hours and work demands, and spank your ass when you get home,” Master Gabriel added.
That he’d remembered her words astounded her.
Even though this seemed to be moving too fast, she always did things that way. And he was right, success was never preordained, it was often a struggle, but the rewards were worth it. Waking up next to one, or both of them, long evenings of punishment and sex… Yeah, her two Doms were worth it.
“Think about it,” he finished.
“I don’t need to think.”
Master Gabriel narrowed his gaze. She saw, in the tension in his jaw, how important her answer was. “I have a list of limits you two will have to agree to. First of all—”
“Right,” Master Gabriel said, picking her up and dragging her over his lap, a place she imagined she’d be spending a lot of time. “Master Devon, find this sub a gag.”
“Wait, please. Just a moment. I have something to say first.”
“Of course you do,” Master Devon commented drily.
She looked at Master Gabriel then at Master Devon. “I accept. Thank you, Sirs.”
“Did she just respond like a good sub should?”
She saw he was looking at Master Devon, not at her.
“Shall we show her how we treat subs who behave really well?” Master Devon asked.
Master Gabriel stroked his fingers over her buttocks, then dipped between her cleft to probe at her still-tender anus. “Let’s do just that.”
Master Devon held up a massive vibrator, one that used electricity instead of batteries. Her mouth fell open. She didn’t need a gag to remain silent. They’d left her speechless.
“Music to our ears,” Master Gabriel said. “And your screams will be even sweeter.” He flipped her on to her back and pinned her hands above her head while Master Devon touched her hungry cunt with the vibrator.
“Shall we?” Master Gabriel asked. “Here’s to the first of many orgasms to come in the future years.”
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Three-way Tie
Sierra Cartwright
Excerpt
Chapter One
“There are two of you?”
“Is that a problem?” Master Rafael asked, arching an expressive brow.
Lindsey Nolan stood on the porch of the magnificent Rocky Mountain home, looking up at the tall Dom. The hint of a Spanish accent, sexy and compelling, laced his voice, sending a shiver of anticipation through her.
He stood next to another man whom he had introduced as Master Eric. While Master Eric was slightly shorter than Master Rafael, both men were over six feet tall. Both had broad shoulders, narrow hips, powerful and oh-so-sexy thighs.
While Master Rafael was dark, with rakishly long hair and brown eyes she could drown in, Master Eric had sun-kissed blond hair that he wore short, cropped. His expressive blue eyes were warm and welcoming.
Could the two men be more different?
Intuitively Lindsey wanted to be dominated by Master Rafael, but she wanted to be held and comforted—perhaps made love to—by Master Eric.
“A problem?” she repeated. “No. I just have no idea what to do with two Doms.”
“You’ll be told what to do,” Master Rafael explained. “You’re just expected to obey.”
She sucked in a breath.
“Come in, Lindsey.”
For a moment she didn’t move. There was something overwhelming about standing here, eight hundred miles from her small- town central Texas home that made her forget everything she knew about decorum. From the moment she’d asked her cousin to take her shifts at the family’s diner and packed her bag, nothing had been the same.
Master Rafael silently regarded her. He’d told her on the telephone she wouldn’t be pushed into anything. The choices, all along, would be hers.
Even though her heart thundered, a few moments later she entered the foyer, dragging her small
piece of luggage.
The house was constructed from warm-toned wooden beams. The entrance floor was slate and a Native American rug stretched across its length. This private place, on acres of land, was so different from her humble reality.
Again she wondered what she’d got herself into by travelling to Master Rafael’s home.
He reached above her head and flicked the door closed, sealing out the cool mountain air.
“We’ll talk in the great room,” Master Rafael said. “I have your signed copy of the rules.”
She nodded. The man was thorough. They’d talked and talked on the phone, and before she’d sent him a copy of the signed rules, they’d gone over the simple statements one by one, several times.
“I printed out your contract.”
“That’s something different than the rules?”
He nodded. “Your contract discusses your limits. It also discusses our mutual agreement that you’ll be here from Friday afternoon to Sunday evening. It states you’re free to leave anytime. The contract includes your safe word and everything else we’ve talked about. I want you to read it carefully and be certain it includes everything you want it to. Once you’re certain everything is in order we can begin.”
Because of his attention to detail, she’d already trusted him with secrets no one else knew. In a way, though, that unnerved her. “What should I do with my bag?”
“Leave it there. You won’t need it.”
Her mouth dried. He sounded serious. Did they intend to keep her naked all weekend?
“Place your car keys there.” He pointed to a row of brass hooks. “They will be accessible if you decide to leave.”
She hung her rental car key on an empty hook and then placed her handbag on top of her suitcase. It felt as if she were entering an alternate universe.
Master Eric led the way to the great room. Master Rafael followed her, leaving her sandwiched between the two hunks.
Lindsey resisted the impulse to look back at the door and the possibility of a retreat.
Lindsey squared her shoulders. She’d already decided that, no matter what happened, she wouldn’t leave early. She had paid dearly for this experience. She would endure and enjoy every moment of it.
Like the rest of the home, the space was spectacular.
Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased tall pines and mountaintops dusted with snow. A stone fireplace served as the room’s focal point. A settee, a couple of end tables and two leather armchairs were arranged in a semicircle in front of the hearth.
“Kneel with your back to the fireplace. Not on the rug. You haven’t earned that comfort.”
Earned? She had to earn the privilege of kneeling on a rug?
She felt awkward, but tried to make her motions graceful as she lowered herself to the polished hardwood floor. Both men stood in front of her, and her eyes were even with their crotches.
Her heart raced. She’d played BDSM games before. They generally weren’t accompanied by such an attack of nerves. Then again, she was usually at a club where it seemed natural. Either that, or she was with an established lover and the play was an extension of their sex play.
Both men regarded her. She was unsure how to act. Where would they expect her to put her hands? On her thighs? Behind her neck? Behind her back?
She knew enough to cast her gaze downward and remain silent unless responding to a question.
She spread her legs a bit and leaned slightly back. She put her hands palm up on her thighs. Her previous boyfriend hadn’t ever given specific instructions, so she’d adopted this position. It felt as comfortable and natural as kneeling could.
The men allowed the silence to stretch and drag. Testing her?
Finally, Master Rafael spoke. “We went over the reasons you bid on a weekend with me, but I want you to tell us both about your expectations. What do you want from the weekend?”
Unsure of proper protocol, she took a chance and looked up to meet his gaze. She’d always had a thing for men with thick, long dark hair. She imagined having her fingers laced in the strands as she screamed his name during an orgasm.
“I…” She trailed off. A sudden attack of nerves left her brain feeling like scrambled eggs.
They waited.
She understood. They’d show as much patience as needed, but she wouldn’t be able to get out of answering their questions.
She took a steadying breath and tried again. “As I told you on the phone, Sir, I have had some BDSM experience. I go to a club in Dallas fairly regularly, and I’ve dated a couple of men who are Dominants. But I’ve always come away a bit disappointed.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve heard others talk about subspace. I’ve read about it.” She sighed. “Maybe it doesn’t really exist, but I’ve seen other women, men too, getting into a scene so deep they seem as if they’re somewhere else. I always feel as if I’m distracted. This may be naïve, but I wonder if there’s a part of the experience I’ve completely missed.”
“You’re hoping to get that here?” Master Eric asked.
He sounded so very different from Master Rafael. Master Eric’s voice was crisp and cool, like a winter morning.
“I’m not sure that’s realistic or even possible,” she admitted. “I think I’m the problem. I think I mentioned that I always feel distracted on some level. I’ll think about work or how things could be better. I notice if the room is too hot, or too cold or I need more pressure or the bindings are too tight.”
Again they waited.
“I can’t get out of my own head long enough to really let go. A couple of my boyfriends have told me I’m a control freak.”
“Are you?” Master Eric asked.
“It seems a bit at odds with someone who wants to achieve the ultimate, I suppose.”
“You like BDSM, but you like to be in control,” he surmised.
She nodded.
“That’s the thing about a D/s relationship,” he continued. “It seems the Dom is in control, but the sub truly has the power.”
“I’m not sure I want it, Sir. I think that’s been part of the trouble. I wanted to control every aspect of each scene. I think what I want is to just let go.”
Master Rafael spoke, “For a sub to truly let go, a huge amount of trust is required. Your Dom needs to know you completely.”
Which might have been part of the reason he’d instructed her to phone him every day for the past week, in addition to answering his numerous emails.
It seemed no part of her life had been left unexplored. He’d requested a copy of her health report, he’d asked about men she’d been with, he enquired as to how many enemas she’d administered to herself.
Everything had been so matter-of-fact she hadn’t been mortified.
“Have your Doms taken the time to get to know you?” Master Eric asked. “Do you play with people you trust?”
“No one has talked to me like Master Rafael has, Sir. I have trusted the men I’ve been with. They’ve all stopped when I asked them to. When I ask for more, they have given it to me. When I say I don’t like something, they have tried something different.”
“Trust is about more than that,” he said. “It’s about knowing limits in advance. It’s about knowing you, what you want, what terrifies you. It’s about pushing you to the edge.”
She shivered in anticipation. That was what she wanted.
“I want one thing perfectly clear,” Master Rafael said. “What you’re talking about isn’t just trust. You’re talking about topping from the bottom. With us, that’s not an option. Everything will have been discussed in advance. We’ll establish the trust you require so that we can give you what you want. If you want to achieve subspace, we’ll get you there.”
“You think it’s possible, Sir?”
“I’d generally want more than just a couple of days. But if we’re focused, if you are willing to do what it takes, we’ll get you there.”
She nodded.
“As we discussed
, if you are beyond your comfort zone in a way that frightens you, use your safe word. Sunday.”
He’d remembered.
In their first e-mail exchange, he’d asked her for a safe word. She’d never really used one before. It had been her agreement with the men she’d played with that stop meant stop.
Master Rafael had explained that he wanted her to have the freedom to scream no and stop and let her continue with a scene. She’d come up with Sunday because it was Sunday when he’d asked. She wished she’d been a bit more creative, but he’d said as long as she would remember the word it would work fine.
“If you overuse the word, sub, you will be sent home.”
She blinked. “Sir?”
“No topping from the bottom. Your safe word should be reserved for times—as I’ve mentioned—that you are beyond your comfort zone in a way that frightens you. You need to manage your reactions and emotions in order to go beyond what you’ve experienced before.”
Beforehand, they’d agreed that she could ask to slow down by using the word yellow. Using that word would grant her only a short reprieve, a two-minute timeout. It wouldn’t stop the scene, it wouldn’t change the scene, but it would give her a chance to gather her wits.
“Remove your blouse.”
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About the Author
Born in Northern England and raised in the Wild West, Sierra Cartwright pens book that are as untamed as the Rockies she calls home.
She’s an award-winning, multi-published writer who wrote her first book at age nine and hasn’t stopped since.
Sierra invites you to share the complex journey of love and desire, of surrender and commitment. Her own journey has taught her that trusting takes guts and courage, and her work is a celebration for everyone who is willing to take that risk.
Email: [email protected]
Sierra loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
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Her Two Doms Page 6