FetteredLove

by Michelle Polaris

  God, he wanted this meal over. “Yes Mistress.”

  She bent, kissed him, a soft massage of lips, feminine and potent. She scratched her nails across his chest, not deep. Not close to deep enough. “I love you, angel. I want to take care of you and make you feel good. Even if it’s only for tonight.”

  The fear she might leave tasted acidic in his mouth. Please. No. He had to get more. Had to. Didn’t they see he could only serve them right if their touch was harder? This wasn’t what he had imagined—an erotic fantasy of pain and ecstasy trapped between two powerful people he loved. Taking their canes, their needles and their floggings, bucking under their attention until he screamed and lost it all.

  His head pounded. The distant past. Where he’d been a wild boy. Difficult for any parent, any mother. Of course she’d want to go. A door slamming. He’d run her away. No, he knew better. She left for her own twisted selfish reasons. Still. It hurt. And maybe if he’d made it easier on her?

  This unexpected tactic of Kirk and Sarah’s was fucking with his head. He was better than this. He knew better. Knew not to be reacting this way. Yet he found himself begging. “Please, Mistress, please, Sarah. I can take more. Make it hurt.” He sounded pathetic. Idiot. He was greater than his past. But like some drama, he was caught in a role, the masochistic prisoner wanting to be punished because he was bad. To make it all right again. It needed to be all right. Didn’t he have a plan this evening?

  “No. For now you’re going to stand and go over to the bed.”

  This was killing him. He inched slowly off the dildo, as fast as she let him, and relished the burn. Then Kirk was there again and escorted him to the bed, helped him on the mattress, solicitous. He ran his calloused fingers over almost every inch of Evan’s exposed skin, squeezed a buttock and teased his hole with passing fingers.

  They untied his wrists from behind him and secured them to the bedposts with fur-lined satin cuffs. Sarah stood away from the bed, unbelted her short robe with a tease that had his balls climbing higher. As the covering dropped away, his gaze focused on her full, high breasts, her flaring waist, the thin swatch of black silk panties covering what he knew was a smooth, gorgeous mound.

  “Seeing you on your back again, restrained, keeps me slick and excited. All that skin to touch, waiting for my attention.” She reached to the waist of her thong and wiggled out of the panties. She sauntered over to the bed, leaned over him to dangle her breasts close to his face. The tips jutted to points. He strained to reach his mouth toward them and suckle, damn permission or not. He wanted to feel them against his tongue.

  “No, no, baby.” She pulled away. “And don’t think to goad me into punishing you by misbehaving.” She held the thong in her hand and moved close again. “Open your mouth. It gets stuffed with what we say it gets stuffed with.”

  We. Kirk and Sarah, working together. He sucked in a breath and experienced the funneling sensation, his heart struggling to lift itself out of his body and throw itself at the feet of these two people.

  He opened, unable to resist her command though part of him wanted to. She gagged his mouth with the lingerie, the smell and taste of her arousal left behind on the fabric driving him wilder.

  Sarah climbed over him on all fours, reminding him of how Kirk proposed. “And now that you can’t interrupt, it’s time for more apologies.”

  The soft seriousness of her eyes triggered a strange panic. What did she want with this night? He’d thought he’d known what he wanted from her. But now¼ He turned his head away, avoided her gaze.

  She grasped his chin and, with controlled pressure, forced his eyes back to hers.

  Kirk had dropped his own robe and climbed naked on the bed, kneeling beside the two of them. He snaked his hand between their bodies to Evan’s cock, began the slowest, agonizing stroke, smoothing fingers up and down the meat of him. Familiar but different than typical. The hairs on Evan’s body stood on end. His hips pumped up, trying to force Kirk to grasp him harder.

  “Listen to your Mistress, Ev. Stop moving those hips or we walk.”

  He clenched his teeth harder around the thong and forced himself to keep his hips on the mattress. Everything ached inside and out. The concert of their attention was stoking him hotter than ever, fragmenting his thoughts but still not pushing him all the way over. They had what he needed. If only¼

  “Time for you to listen. I owe you an apology, angel,” Sarah said.

  No she didn’t.

  She’d kept a gentle grip on his chin, preventing him from shaking his head in denial.

  But she’d read his thoughts well enough. “I do. For walking away and staying away these years. I loved you. I still do. And I may have left physically like your mom did, but I never left here.”

  She placed her other hand over his heart, pressed her palm into his chest.

  The heat of the touch burrowed deep inside his skin, trailed down to his groin where Kirk’s hand continued to caress his cock, slipping down to fondle his sac for brief moments before lifting again.

  “You deserved better. You were my perfect, loving, wonderful submissive and lover. Everything a Mistress could want.”

  Behind the gag, his throat tightened.

  “I made a mistake, even if for good reasons. I never left because you were flawed, angel. It wasn’t about you. You know this, at least in your head. It’s your soul I’m worried about. It’s gotten confused.”

  He believed her, didn’t he? He wanted to believe. But¼

  A door slamming.

  Kirk’s deep voice reverberated from his side. “Every time we play, you want it hard, Evan. Sarah’s helped me understand the part of you that still thinks it needs punishment for being left all those years ago. But you refuse to talk about it, pretending like you’re over it. You’re not. And I want that for you. Hard play is not a problem, but when it’s all you’ll accept, it is. You have this angel-demon thing going on and it’s not acceptable any longer.”

  God, he was shrinking, squeezing down to the nothing he’d felt long ago. No, he couldn’t let that happen. A door slammed again. Again. Alone. Was he still alone? He wanted to run away, lose the pain in sub space.

  Fingers tightened around his chin again. “Focus, Evan. You’re going somewhere, I see it in your eyes. I need you here with me. Your Mistress demands it.”

  Cold. He was cold. And he couldn’t get away as he wanted. Fuck. Let me go.

  “You present the kind, compassionate, well-adjusted face to the world,” Kirk said. “And you are one of the fucking best men I know.” His voice turned gruffer. “But for all the years you’ve told me I have to learn how to accept your care and scale down my Dom pride, there’s still that one area in our play you won’t give up control. So now I’m demanding it, sweetheart. Submit to us gently and admit you’re not to blame, not at fault for being left. By your mom or by Sarah. That you’re not bad, just a guy who hurts from the shitty thing done to him.”

  The contrast of the plucking words and the sexual stimulation kept him off center, Sarah’s hypnotizing, concerned face continued to swim above him.

  “I love you. Kirk loves you. You’re everything you need to be.”

  Then why did she leave? His rational mind shut off. The tainted black inside his blood boiled up and left acid marks along the inside of his veins.

  “I’m going to take the gag out, Evan. And you’re going to tell me you understand. You’re going to believe what I have to say. If you do, I let you taste me. To lick me to orgasm. But it’s got to be the truth, angel.”

  He wanted that taste. So much that his tongue curled into the fabric, anticipating her flavor, her undulating hips over his face and the ecstasy of her juices running into his mouth, flicking at her clit and tonguing her pussy to bring her pleasure. It fought away some of the black.

  Christ, he was so hard, so ready, and so needy for it. To combat the pain.

  She took out the gag. “Now tell me, Evan. Tell me you’re worth it. You understand no one left
because of you.”

  “Then why?” he gasped. It wasn’t close to logical, the knifing question that always lingered somewhere deep. It just was.

  She lowered her head closer. Kirk’s hand was gone from his cock. All of a sudden he saw the man on his knees behind her. A big hand rested at her waist, as if steadying her. Another he reached down to rest on Evan’s thigh, gripping it in reassurance.

  Her eyes shone too bright. “Because, unfortunately, I had things to prove. Why your mother left, I can never say. But no child is ever the cause.”

  His eyes brimmed full and he knew the hot moisture threatened to spill over. He blinked hard and ratcheted up his volume. “Wanting punishment is still part of me. Don’t fucking tell me I don’t need it or can’t have it! You’re a Mistress. You know better.”

  He wanted her angry. She should be after he screamed at her.

  “You need to forgive yourself. First because there wasn’t anything you did wrong. Second because it makes your love for us stronger the more you love yourself.”

  “Shit.”

  Kirk squeezed his thigh harder. “You’ll do this, Ev, because we love you and would never lie about something this important. And because you have no choice. You submit to us. That’s who you’ve been. It’s stronger than the glitch inside your psyche replaying the past to figure out how you fucked it up. We tell you that you didn’t fuck it up. You accept that.”

  “So you won’t give me what I want?” He spit the words as a poisonous accusation.

  “I’d be a fool to deny myself the pleasure of topping you with pain and punishment ever again. I still want that. I want to see you jerk under the pads when I run electricity under your skin. I want to see the red marks of my flogger. But that’s not every time. And I want you to fly high just as much when I kiss you for hours while you’re tied up.” Kirk’s dark eyes bore into him from over Sarah’s body, searing into Evan, promising, lit with a spark.

  “Kisses like this,” Sarah added, lowering her lips and leaving the gentlest caress on his mouth. “And this.” She switched to his chest, running the tip of her tongue over his tiny brown nub.

  So light. A tickle that killed. Feathers with knife tips. But the focus in her eyes ripped even deeper into him.

  “So tell us, baby. Tell us how much you’re worth it. You like to make your Mistress and Master happy. It’s a natural for you.”

  He wanted that, yes. Trouble was, he didn’t know if he could give Sarah and Kirk what they wanted. No matter how badly it shredded his heart.

  She’d pushed him. She knew it. And the fluctuating panic and desire and yearning in his eyes told her she’d shoved him off his comfortable path. Her nerves strung tight as she vibrated with abject lust seeing him tied down, watching him clench around the dildo earlier, needing to scratch down his skin, leave her marks and her possession after so many years. She wanted the high of watching him gasp under a paddle or see the reddened skin of his cock from dripping wax down his groin. But she wanted to kiss him all over just as much. So precious. He was gorgeous like that even while she hated the parts of him still stuck thinking he was less. She wanted desperately to take care of him. For forever. Instead, she refocused on the here and now. Forever would come or not.

  And with this effort to convince him came her hyperawareness of Kirk, the script they played out together in the room with the man they loved. Their sub? For tonight at least. It was painful to think beyond tonight. She resisted sinking too deep into any of Kirk’s touches, tried not to think of the intimacies, the amazing connection of the contact. They’d decided Evan needed it this way. Yes, only a script between them. Yet at the museum she’d caught glimpses of¼what?

  “Say it, angel,” she commanded.

  Evan’s mouth screwed tight against a pain that didn’t exist. The physical pain didn’t exist at least. The emotional anguish was real enough.

  He panted between her kisses. “You think I’m worth it.”

  “That’s not the issue. I know what I believe, what I feel. It’s what you believe that I care about here.” She ran her tongue up the side of his chest to the dip into the valley below the jointure of arm and shoulder.

  He shuddered. “I won’t lie.” He tried to use his words as armor.

  Kirk pressed in at her side, displacing her as he hovered over Evan. He lowered a large hand to Evan’s throat, gentle threatening pressure. Sarah saw the banked fury in Kirk’s eyes. “If you can’t tell us you’re worth it, tell us about her. Your mother. Convince me you gave her reason to leave. That you’re the shit you believe yourself to be under that gentle, giving man you must pretend to be every day. You know, the one who gives above and beyond and has forgiveness like a trick card up his sleeve to pull out at any moment it’s needed. You’re fucking willing to forgive Sarah, and I suspect your mother, but just not yourself? Convince me, Ev, because I’m not buying this.”

  Kirk’s voice had risen. They’d planned to keep it soft with Evan, but she knew his self-castigation pricked Kirk deep and raised the beast who intended to battle fiercely for anyone it loved. The larger-than-life warrior who’d insisted on protecting her for the years of their childhood. Her pride for Kirk mixed with the same desire to heal Evan. Goddammit if she’d let him avoid this issue. She’d helped do this to him, reinforce this self-doubt, and she’d rather cut her heart out than leave him like this.

  “Remember the promise of my pussy, angel. A taste. If you can’t tell us you’re worth it, do what your Master says.”

  Evan shook his head, although Kirk’s grip stayed in place. “Can’t. It’s just true.”

  Sarah reached down to his groin, cradled his balls. “Can’t or won’t? Don’t be a coward, angel.”

  It wasn’t working. Moisture streaked Evan’s face and she watched him closely, forcing her mind to the task of seeing deep enough inside her sub to know the right path for him. This was her job as Mistress, no matter her personal needs or desires. Maybe she’d overlooked the key.

  She sat back and considered her lover’s scars. It hurt to see them. “Wrong tactic, Kirk. I think we’ve messed it up. Haven’t we, dear? Evan doesn’t recognize gentleness as part of his sexual submission. It’s not part of his picture of himself. If it’s not familiar, he’s not going to relax enough to let go. Simple physical pleasure doesn’t motivate him.”

  She lowered her hand over Kirk’s at Evan’s neck, a double collar of flesh. “Isn’t that right, angel? You want the pain. Fine. We’ll do that for you. But you have to know that it will be slow, steady hurting. Nothing dramatic to drop you deep. And it will bring us joy too. You are beautiful, Evan, in all the ways you ache.”

  Kirk glanced at her, back down at his partner. She saw his sharp mind click behind his expression, bloom with a thought. “It’s about the motivation.”

  His other hand reached for Evan’s nipple, pinching it hard as they watched their sub’s face contract under the pain. “I know what you want from me, Ev. Why you arranged this between the three of us. You want me to get rid of my shit with Sarah and get over it.”

  Sarah listened with her every muscle taut enough to snap. She held on tight to her reactions. So tight she expected to shatter into a million pieces at the slightest breath.

  Kirk continued, the skin of his hand under her palm forging with hers to make some entirely new creation. “Then don’t be a selfish prick. You do this with me. You’re my partner. You want me to heal then you do it too. I won’t do shit alone. Not anymore. You give us the damn words we asked for, tell us about the stain your mom still makes on your soul, and I’ll say the words I have to say. Do what I have to do.”

  Ev’s jaw clenched, his hands fisting open and closed in his binds. Words seemed to clog his throat, his mouth helpless to make any coherent sound.

  “We’ll let you up now, sweetheart,” Kirk said, not waiting for his response. “Sarah, will you move the cross out of the corner?”

  She removed her hand from Kirk’s, her body from the bed, and trusted h
er auto-pilot to keep her functioning. She allowed only vague half guesses over Kirk’s intentions to stir in her mind.

  Kirk removed Evan’s binds and brought him to the St. Andrew’s Cross she’d moved away from the wall. He closed the man efficiently into the cuffs at wrists and ankles. Bound down his forehead, biceps, thighs and waist to further limit movement.

  Evan was panting now, his cock leaking pre-cum, making a shiny trail down his bare groin. His eyes became glazed. Clearly he’d been waiting for this, anticipating, and even now it was putting him in a zone.

  Kirk grabbed his chin again. “You stay the fuck with us, Evan. I’m not done with you. You understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Sarah retrieved clamps from a side table, knowing even without discussion what Kirk intended. She handed half to him, moving closer to place her share on Evan’s nipples, the inside tops of his thighs, the skin of his armpits, the now tight flesh at the base of his scrotum. As Kirk attached his own pinchers to join hers, Evan moaned with the pain, clenched and cried as each new clamp went on. He tried to sway in the restraint, both toward and away from the devices.

  Kirk stepped back after the last.

  “Hurts,” the bound man gasped.

  “Yes. You’re receiving this much because it’s what we decided. It may be acknowledgement we got it wrong at the beginning, but remember how much it makes me hard seeing you suffer like this, that red flesh pinched behind our clamps. You’re mine. You won’t forget it.” He reached to pull on a clamp, enflame the flesh underneath. “I’m sick of sharing you with your past. I’ll share you with Sarah tonight, but you know I hate sharing. So pay attention and we won’t have to do this again.”

  “Yes Master.”

  “Good.”

  Sarah squeezed her thighs together and forced herself not to sway in place or lunge to play with all that restrained flesh. Her cunt was full and wet and already pulsing with small random spasms, the precursors of orgasm. She’d forgotten the power in watching the desire and helplessness of a submissive. Especially of one she loved. Forgot how deeply it touched her. She’d made herself forget. Remembering would have driven her crazy all those years.