Two for Alex

by Claire Thompson

  She had blossomed over the last few weeks, finally dropping all vestiges of the spoiled brat she had been when they first brought her into their home. A confident, sexy, deeply sensual and submissive woman had emerged—one who complemented his relationship with Daniel rather than weakening it.

  Daniel, too, had grown, increasingly confident in his role as Alex’s part-time Dom, while still mindful of his proper place—naked at Liam’s feet. Because they were no longer walking on eggshells to protect each other’s feelings, the passion between them was hotter than ever.

  “Move your hips. Take her deeper,” Liam now commanded. He stood close, watching the two of them, feeling their lust as if it were his own. Daniel’s tongue was peeking between his lips, telling Liam he was concentrating, probably on not coming too soon. Alex was trembling and her breath came in short, whimpering gasps.

  “Stop. Stay perfectly still. You’re both too close to the edge. I’m going to pull you back with the cane.” Both subs’ eyes had been closed. Both now flew open. Good. He wanted their complete attention.

  He selected his favorite cane, a simple straight rod with a black suede handle. He whipped it through the air. Daniel remained immobile and impassive, but Alex winced at the sound. He would start with her.

  He stroked her already heated flesh for a moment, trailing his fingers lightly over her ass. “Do you need this, Alex? Do you need to feel the cut of the cane?”

  “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir,” Alex whispered. She spoke to him but her eyes were fixed on Daniel’s, as if by watching him she would find a measure of courage she didn’t possess on her own.

  Liam stepped to the side and took aim, adjusting his position to be sure and catch her square across both cheeks. With a flick of his wrist, the cane made contact and Alex jerked hard against Daniel. She moaned. He struck her again, creating a fine white line that quickly reddened like a streak of fire.

  He moved to Daniel and ran his hands lightly over Daniel’s back. Daniel was sweating, the scent of his particular musk ripe in the air. Liam could barely contain his desire, but contain it he would. For just a little longer.

  “Tell me,” he prompted.

  “Please, Sir.” Daniel’s voice was low and throaty. “I want to suffer for you, Sir.”

  “So you shall.” He whipped the cane through the air, making contact with smooth skin and hard muscle. Daniel flinched but otherwise remained still. Liam struck him four more times before returning to again mark the girl who had her legs wrapped around his lover’s waist.

  Alex cried out and nearly lost her hold. Liam dropped the cane and put his hands beneath her ass, helping her to regain her position. They were both nearing the end of their physical endurance.

  He released their wrists from the chains overhead. Daniel brought his arms around Alex, his cock still inside her. This gave Liam an idea. “That’s right, Daniel,” he said aloud. “Keep her just like that. Can you do that and walk to the bedroom?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Liam admired Daniel’s strong back and bulging biceps as he carried Alex, who had wrapped her arms around his neck. When they were in the bedroom, he said, “Lie down on your back, Daniel, and keep Alex in your arms. Make sure you stay inside her.”

  While Daniel obeyed, Liam hurriedly pulled off his clothing. He crouched between Daniel’s spread legs, positioning himself behind Alex. She was sitting astride Daniel, her pale skin reddened from the flogger and marked by the cane.

  Grabbing the tube of lubricant, he readied his shaft and her ass for his onslaught. His balls ached, his cock was throbbing.

  “I’m going to fuck your ass, slave girl,” he murmured as he pushed her gently forward. He could feel her brace herself with her hands on either side of Daniel’s body. “Neither of you is to come until I say so. Got it?”

  “Yes, Sir,” they whispered in unison.

  Carefully he pushed his way into her tight entrance, forcing himself to go slowly, though in his lust he wanted to ram his way in.

  The sensation was incredible. He could feel Daniel’s thick, hard cock pressing up against the delicate membrane that separated Alex’s two passages. She gave a low, guttural moan, a shudder moving through her body. It was a matter of minutes, if not seconds, before she came, his order notwithstanding.

  He moved inside her, forcing himself to hold on a little longer. Daniel was still holding himself rigid, probably afraid to move because the slightest friction would send him over the edge.

  It felt so good. So fucking good. Liam wanted it to last forever. But he loved them both too much to torture either one another second. “Come for me,” he commanded.

  As if they’d rehearsed in advance, both slaves began to shudder and buck in climax. Liam could feel each swivel and thrust of Daniel’s hard cock inside the girl as he finally lost control. Her body shaking, Alex screamed, a high, piercing keen.

  He’d never known such pleasure, so fierce it was almost painful. He spurted in long, hot thrusts inside her until he was completely spent. He fell forward and rolled away.

  Alex too rolled off Daniel to his other side. Liam put his hand on Daniel’s chest and felt his heart beating like a drum beneath the sweat-soaked skin and muscle.

  Daniel turned his head toward Liam and focused his beautiful blue-gray eyes on his face with such tenderness and naked adoration it took Liam’s breath away. “Kiss me,” Daniel whispered. It was a command the Master was more than happy to obey.

  ~*~

  Daniel and Alex were draped side by side over matching low stools waiting for their daily marking. They were naked, their foreheads touching the ground, their arms outstretched on the carpet, Alex’s right hand nearly touching Daniel’s left.

  For that morning’s mark Daniel had chosen a small whip made from thin spaghetti-like strands of purple rubber. Three of the strands were longer than the rest and capable of leaving a searing mark that would remind Alex all day of what she was and who she belonged to.

  In the weeks since she’d come home for good, she never ceased to thrill to this erotic morning ritual. She loved the way it centered her, placing her in a sensual submissive headspace that lingered throughout the day. It also brought her closer to Daniel in a way different from the rest of their day. For this one moment before her chores and erotic training began, they were equals, naked together and waiting for their Master’s mark.

  She could hear Liam enter the room. She felt him lift the whip, which had been balanced between their two nearly touching bodies. “Daniel.” Liam’s low, sexy voice sent a shiver of desire through Alex’s loins.

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “Who do you belong to?”

  “You, Sir.”

  “That’s right.” She heard the whistle of the whip and the slapping sound as it made contact with Daniel’s skin. Only the slight sharp intake of breath gave away Daniel’s reaction.

  “Alex.”

  Alex tensed and then took a deep, cleansing breath. “Yes, Sir?”

  “Who do you belong to?”

  “You, Sir.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Ah!” The startled cry escaped her lips as the whip struck her like a scorpion’s sting. Oh, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt! The urge to fall out of position by reaching back to touch the burning skin nearly overwhelmed her.

  I can’t do it, she nearly cried.

  Daniel put his hand over hers.

  In that moment, Alex knew she could do anything—anything in the world.

  Indie authors rely heavily on reviews to get the word out. Please take a moment to leave a quick review on Amazon.

  Thanks, I really appreciate it! Claire

  Did you enjoy this BDSM Ménage? Check out another, this one a M/f/M BDSM ménage – Claimed by Two Masters

  Here’s a sneak peek at Chapter One!

  Claimed by Two Masters - Chapter 1

  “Hey, Steve, check out that girl over there. I haven’t seen her around before, have you?”

  Steve Hartman turned to see
whom Zach Wilder, his best friend and scene partner, was referring to. They had just arrived at Hardcore, Portland’s best underground BDSM club, after too long a hiatus. From his vantage point, he could see the girl in profile as she leaned forward on the long sofa set against the wall, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin cupped in her hands. In her mid to late twenties, she wore a low-cut dress that showed some very alluring cleavage.

  She was pretty, with large eyes and a small, upturned nose. Her hair was pulled back from her face, and from what Steve could see in the dim light of the BDSM basement club, it appeared to be red.

  Her expression was a curious mixture of both horror and longing as she stared at the whipping scene occurring in front of her. Following her avid gaze, Steve recognized Harry and Maryanne, a longtime couple in the scene who were regulars at Hardcore.

  That particular scene station contained a St. Andrew's cross set on a raised dais, so it was possible to see the action over the heads of the gathered crowd that stood in a semicircle around the pair. Maryanne, naked and bound to the cross, let out a sudden howl of pain.

  Steve flicked his gaze back to the girl, who had brought her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide with what seemed to be a kind of thrilled terror.

  After a moment, she sat back, her body relaxing, her hands falling away from her face. Her tongue appeared on her lower lip, a dreamy expression now moving over her features.

  Looking back to the scene, Steve saw that Harry had dropped his whip. He was stroking Maryanne’s hair, his mouth close to her ear.

  His eyes returning to the girl on the couch, Steve said, “I haven’t seen her at Hardcore either, but I definitely like what I see.”

  “Me, too,” Zach agreed enthusiastically. “She doesn’t seem to be with anyone. How about we go say hi?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Steve agreed.

  They walked toward the long, low couch where the girl sat alone. She didn’t appear to notice them as they approached, her gaze still fixed intently on the scene before her. Harry had resumed the whipping and Maryanne was moaning in a low, sexy way that begged for more.

  “Hey there,” Zach said, smiling down at the new girl. “Is there room for us to join you?”

  “What?” The girl tore her gaze from the scene long enough to glance at Zach and Steve. “I’m sorry, yes, of course.” Her long, wavy red hair was pulled back from her face and clipped at the nape of her neck with a wide silver barrette. Her shoulders were bare, save for the black spaghetti straps of her dress. Steve instantly imagined the red welts he could paint across her milky-white, flawless skin.

  She started to scoot from her perch in the center of the couch, but before she could move, Zach and Steve took seats on either side of her. “We haven’t seen you around before,” Zach said with a friendly smile. “Is this your first time at Hardcore?”

  “Yes. First time,” she replied. “Is it always like this? I mean”—she waved toward the whipping station, the scene now winding down as Harry helped his sub from the cross, his arm around her shoulders—“so intense?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Zach said with a grin. “And even more intense if you go to one of the private scene rooms.” He extended his large hand toward the girl. “I’m Zach Wilder. Welcome to Hardcore, Portland’s premiere underground BDSM club.”

  “Shea O’Connor,” she replied, placing her hand briefly in his.

  “And this is my good friend, Steve Hartman.” Zach nodded toward Steve.

  Shea turned toward him, and Steve took her soft, small hand in his, keeping it there as he said, “Nice to meet you, Shea. I don’t see a collar. Are you owned?”

  “Am I…what?” She pulled her hand away. “Oh! No, no. I’m here alone. I’m not, um, owned.” Her eyes were a vivid blue. The bridge of her nose was dusted with a sprinkling of freckles. Her mouth was small but her lower lip was full and sensual. A flush of color had risen in her cheeks, and she looked down suddenly at her lap.

  “I sense you’re new to the scene?” Steve suggested, watching her closely.

  The color deepened in her cheeks as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. Instead of answering his question, she said, “I’m quite familiar with the dynamics of BDSM,” her tone suddenly more formal, more in control. “I’m what you would call an observer of human behavior. I’ve always been intrigued by the concept of masochism and erotic submission. The whole idea of someone voluntarily allowing another person to subjugate and control them—that they’d willingly bare their throat in submission to the stronger member of the pack, like wolves in the wild”—she shuddered—“I’m both fascinated and repelled that this continues to play out in civilized society.”

  Ah, Steve thought, amused. So that’s how she plays it. He had run into her type before—the kind of woman who had trouble reconciling her feminist, hyper-intellectualized take on the world with her more primal, sexually submissive and masochistic desires.

  He decided to meet her on her own terms. “I’ve also made something of a study of BDSM from an intellectual standpoint. But in my ten years in the scene, I’ve found that intellect will only take you so far. You can watch a dozen demonstrations on proper whipping techniques and listen to lectures about how to flow with the erotic pain, but I can guarantee you you’ll learn more from that first cracking stroke of leather or a hard palm against your bare ass than a month’s worth of study and research. To really understand dominance and submission, even from a scientific point of view, you need to experience it firsthand.”

  He could see he had her attention. Her lips had parted slightly and her pupils were dilated. She wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture and turned away from him.

  Zach, waiting on her other side, took over with a friendly smile. “You know what they say”—he placed his hand lightly on her thigh—“a good spanking is worth a thousand words.”

  Sensing they might be moving too fast, Steve made an effort to dial things back. “Of course, if you just want to watch your first time out, that’s entirely understandable. Some people here never scene. They just move from station to station, watching.”

  “That’s true,” Zach agreed, letting his hand fall away from Shea’s thigh. “It’s important, especially when you’re just starting out, to find the right partner. If and when you’re ready, you should know that Steve and I are experienced trainers. We’d be happy to initiate you, if you like. Maybe just start out with a light spanking, and see where we go from there.”

  “A light spanking,” Shea said somewhat breathlessly, her eyes widening. “Gosh. I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never…” She trailed off, looking down.

  Steve noted her nipples poking against the black fabric of her dress and the flush of color that hadn’t faded from her cheeks. She was definitely interested, but uncertain.

  He leaned back, returning his gaze to Harry and Maryanne. “No pressure, Shea. It’s entirely your call.”

  She nodded, seemingly reassured as she, too, focused again on the whipping scene still being enacted in front of them.

  Taking Steve’s cue, Zach, too, settled back against the couch cushions. If Shea was like most subs, she would be doing her own work now—watering the seed of an idea Zach had planted in her brain with the words a light spanking. She would run the gamut of resistance, refusal, curiosity, desire until, hopefully, desire would win out.

  Sure enough, not five minutes passed before she said again, “A light spanking. Maybe I could do that.” She looked around the club and then from one guy to the other. “Where would we do it?”

  “Right here,” Steve said, patting the couch.

  “Right here?” she repeated. “In front of all these people?”

  “No one’s paying any attention to us, Shea,” Zach said with a smile. “They’re kind of busy, don’t you think?” He waved toward the various scene stations where leather-clad and half-naked people were busy with rope, chain and impact toys, none of them even remotely interested in the three fully clothed people chatting on the obser
vation couch.

  “We could always go into a private scene room, if you’re more comfortable with that,” Steve added.

  “No,” Shea said quickly. She drew in a breath and blew it out, a resolute expression moving over her face. “Don’t I need, um, like a safeword or something?”

  Steve chuckled. “You’re not going to need a safeword for a little spanking.”

  “But if that makes you more comfortable,” Zach interjected, “then by all means, tell us your safeword.”

  “I don’t have a,” Shea began, but then amended, “I mean, my safeword is”—she paused a fraction of a second and then concluded—“zirconium.”

  Zach looked puzzled. “Zir-whaty-um?”

  “Zirconium,” Steve repeated. “It’s a metal—a chemical element, right?”

  “That’s right,” Shea said, flashing him a very pretty, dimpled smile. “Zr in the periodic table. I’m a scientist,” she added.

  Of course you are, Steve thought, mildly amused.

  “Very cool,” Zach said sincerely. “If you say your safeword, all action stops,” he assured her. “That’s a promise.”

  Shea bit her lip as she fought whatever internal battle was roiling inside her. Steve and Zach waited silently for her decision, as neither of them believed in pressuring a sub, especially a newbie. She had to offer herself freely, or not at all.

  Finally Shea gave a small, determined nod. “Yes, okay,” she said. “Let’s try the experiment.”

  Shea stood and smoothed the flowing skirt of her short dress over her thighs. Though she looked like a deer caught in the headlights, she slipped off her heels as Steve moved to the center of the couch and patted his thighs in invitation.

  Zach rose from the couch and helped Shea drape herself over Steve’s lap. She had a full, voluptuous figure, her ass ample and perfect for spanking. Though Steve normally favored more slender, narrow-hipped girls, he found himself quite attracted to Shea O’Connor, and his cock nudged appreciatively as she settled over him.