Her Two Doms

by Ashe Barker

  I swallow again and try to assemble some coherent thoughts. There are questions I need to ask. “Will it…? I mean… I get it, about the spanking and that it has to be on my bare bottom and all that. It’s personal, very intimate…”

  “Part of the unique charm of a spanking, I always think,” offers Fraze.

  I nod. Baring my backside for them is part of the thrill, I’m honest enough to admit that, if only for my own benefit. I reckon they already know.

  “Go on,” Fraze encourages me. He is leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs and his fingers intertwined in front of him.

  I have his undivided attention. Beside me, Declan is equally intent.

  “It’s just…there are two of you. And earlier, you said something about sharing. About taking turns.”

  “Yes,” agreed Declan, “we did.”

  “Would one of you watch while the other…?” I grind to a halt, hopelessly out of my depth. I have two degrees and a PhD in clinical research methodology and don’t even know what questions to ask about a simple little spanking.

  Declan squeezes my shoulders. “We could do it that way. Or we could both spank you at the same time. That would be our preference.”

  “Okay,” I agree. I’m so far out of my comfort zone it hardly matters. “And would it…? I mean, what about sex?”

  “What about sex?” Fraze tilts his chin, the glint in his emerald-coloured eyes softening perhaps a fraction.

  “Would you expect me to sleep with you? With either of you? Both of you?” There. I’ve said it.

  “Expect? No.” Fraze shakes his head. “If you only want the spanking, then it stops there.”

  “Are you sure? What about what you want? Both of you?”

  Declan is the one who answers. “Yes, we’re sure. It’s what you want that matters, Ellie. We’ve done this plenty of times before. We know how it goes, and you can believe us when we tell you that the fucking is an optional extra.”

  “You spank a lot of women?” I shouldn’t feel jealous, but I do.

  “Enough,” admits Declan

  “Together? Both of you at the same time?”

  “Yes, quite often at the same time. It adds to the fun, we find.”

  “And…you fuck them, too?” I whisper.

  “Yes, if they’re up for it. And before you ask, we like to do that together, too.”

  Oh, dear sweet Lord. I should be running screaming from the building but instead I sit there, gazing into Fraze’s mossy eyes while Declan caresses my clavicle and moisture pools in my knickers.

  “I think… I mean, perhaps… I’m not sure if…” I have quite lost the power of speech.

  Fraze grins at Declan. “Just the spanking for now, I reckon.”

  “Sounds like it,” the other man agrees. “Shall we pick our implements?”

  “Sure. I’ll get my bag.” Fraze stands and strides from the room.

  Declan tops up my water glass as we wait. I’m glad of the cooling drink as my mouth has turned to sandpaper. A few moments later, Fraze joins us again and dumps a large holdall on the floor at my feet.

  “My bag of tricks. I daresay we’ll find something in here to suit you.” He unzips the bag and opens it to reveal a collection of items I have only ever read about. I recognise a few paddles, canes, riding crops, and a whip. There are other things, too, but the sight of the whip unnerves me.

  “No.” I shake my head, start to get up. “This isn’t what I thought…”

  “Relax.” Declan’s hand on my elbow stops my rush for the door. “Baby steps. We’re not going to get into anything too heavy, we promise. Look again, find something you do like.”

  “What…? I mean, I don’t know…”

  “What about this?” Fraze pulls a leather implement from the bag, a bit like a whip but with soft suede fronds dangling from the handle. “This is a flogger. It’s very gentle, more sensuous than stingy.” He holds it out to me.

  I take the flogger in my hand and feel the softness of the leather. It’s light, sort of floaty. “You could use this to spank me with?”

  “Would you like that, Ellie?”

  I nod. I would. I really think I would.

  Declan rummages in the bag and comes up with one of the riding crops. “This has a bit more bite to it, but it’s still gentle enough for a beginner.” He flicks it against his hand. “Yes, I think this will be just fine.”

  Fraze shoves the bag out of the way and takes the flogger back from me. “So, shall we begin?”

  “How many times… I mean, for how long…?”

  “Until you tell us to stop. How does that sound?”

  I flatten my lips. Fraze’s response was softly spoken but with an edge of steel. I think I’m in good hands.

  “What do I need to do? Do I undress?”

  “You can. Or you could just drop your trousers to your knees, pull down your underwear, and lean across the back of the couch. We’ll do the rest.”

  I close my eyes, take a deep, steadying breath. This is it. It’s happening. Now.

  I stand up and kick off my shoes, take another breath. Then another. Then, I reach for the button at the front of my trousers.

  I’m glad the trousers are loose fitting because they slither down to my knees without any effort on my part. I look from Fraze to Declan and back again, seeking guidance.

  “Kneel on the settee facing the back.” Declan assists me in getting onto the sofa. “Now lean forward and rest your elbows on the top.” He helps me to get into position. “Yes, that’s good. Lift your bottom up a bit more and your shoulders need to be lower. Can we just lift this up a bit…?” He takes the loose hem of my blouse which had been neatly tucked inside my trousers and is now flapping loose about my hips. He rolls the fabric up my back to just above my waist to keep it out of the way. “Perfect. So now, we just need to slide these down…”

  His fingers are on the waistband of my best satin briefs. He waits until I nod my permission, then he peels them down to my knees as well.

  I am exposed, my bottom bared for spanking. They have only to tilt their heads a fraction and they will see my disgracefully wet pussy lips, my swollen labia, the pinkness of my slit. If I shift just a little, spread my legs the tiniest bit, they would see my clit, too, and then they would be in no doubt about how hopelessly aroused I am by all of this.

  The room is warm, but the draught of air wafting across my naked buttocks reminds me of my vulnerability. A shiver ripples through my body, and when they both take up positions behind me, it’s all I can do to remain in place.

  “Such a lovely arse,” observes Declan, “so pale and creamy.”

  “And curvy,” adds Fraze.

  Is he saying I have a fat bottom? I clench my buttocks, beyond humiliated.

  “Perfect,” Fraze clarifies, “fucking perfect.”

  “Are you ready, Ellie?” Declan lays his warm palm on my left bottom cheek and squeezes gently. I nod, so he continues. “Fraze will start, with the flogger. When you’re warmed up a bit I’ll join in, with the crop. We’ll check with you often that you’re all right, but you just have to say ‘stop’ and it’s over. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I mutter. Now that I’m here I just want to get started. My imagination is all over the place. I need the reality of the spanking to ground me again. I need to know.

  “Oh!” I let out a startled cry at the first feather-like stroke of the flogger. I’d clenched up, braced myself expecting something sharp, fierce. Instead I receive a soft whisper which dances across my backside, almost a caress. I glance back over my right shoulder, catch Fraze’s eye.

  “So far so good?” He raises that expressive eyebrow again and waits for my answer.

  “Yes. So far so good.”

  I remain in place and sigh with each new stroke. I soon lose count. Fraze treats my buttocks and the backs of my thighs to the delicate shimmer of the flogger tendrils. They snake across my skin. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the intensity builds. I’m not sure if
Fraze is adding weight to the strokes or if it’s just that my skin is more sensitive, but it starts to hurt. A little, but in a curiously good way. I writhe and shift as the heat builds and I lift up my bottom as though seeking more—I crave the sharpness of the strands colliding with my skin. I want him to hit me harder, faster. I let out a frustrated mewl when he pauses.

  “My turn now.” Declan lays his hand on my bottom again, and this time I flinch. He chuckles. “Nicely warmed up. Now for the sizzle.”

  He drops the first stroke onto my tender flesh, and I shriek. “Ow! That bloody hurt.”

  “It’s a spanking, sweetheart. It’s meant to hurt.”

  I screw up my eyes tight. I knew that, of course I knew. But the flogger was so gentle, so soft and…

  “Aagh!” The second swipe with the crop really hurts, and without thinking I stretch my hand back to rub my abused bottom.

  Declan catches my wrist before I can reach my smarting buttock. “No touching, Ellie. Hands in front.”

  His voice is firm, authoritative, and something flips over deep in my stomach. My pussy convulses. I was already wet but I’m dripping now and it’s all I can do not to apologise.

  Fraze moves around to the back of the sofa and crouches so his eyes are on a level with mine. “It’s dangerous for you to reach back. Dec might hit your fingers and that could hurt you. Give me your hands.”

  He takes my hands and enfolds them within his own. His grip is firm, though not tight, but I know he would hold on to me if I were to slip up again. I find his presence comforting and manage a smile. I know it gets harder from now on.

  Fraze nods over my shoulder at Dec, and moments later the third stroke sends a streak of fire across my bottom. I let out a scream and half expect Fraze to tell Declan to stop. He doesn’t, but when I open my eyes again he is watching me, studying me. He dips his chin in that brief nod again, and Declan delivers the next stroke.

  I manage to count six strokes with the crop before I know I’ve had enough. Almost. Perhaps just one more. I gnaw on my lower lip and curl my fingers around Fraze’s. I’m the one gripping him now.

  “Ellie?” Fraze’s voice is gentle and somehow cuts through the throbbing waves of fiery pain. I meet his gaze. “Enough yet?”

  I wait for a few moments, allow the sensations to ebb a little, catch my breath, then I shake my head. “Just a little more. Please.”

  Fraze glances over at Declan, and that silent communication thing goes on again. I get it. At last I get it. Declan is doing the business, and Fraze is looking out for me, making sure I’m coping. Between them, they’re giving me what I need and more, and keeping me safe.

  Declan brings the crop down again, this time across the fleshiest part of both my buttocks at once. My breath leaves me in a whoosh, and I gasp for precious oxygen.

  “Are you ready to stop?” This time it’s Declan who asks me.

  I’m at my limit, I know that. So I should stretch my boundaries and manage one more, shouldn’t I? That’s the way to learn, to extend myself. It was always my way. “One more,” I manage to croak. “Just one more.”

  Declan had been leaning over me but he straightens, swipes the crop through the air just once to create an ominous whistle, then he delivers the final stroke across the backs of my thighs.

  I scream and lurch forward, into Fraze’s arms. He holds me for a few moments, then stands up and helps me to turn around and lie on my side on the couch. I’m in time to watch Declan toss the crop into Fraze’s bag of tricks, then he comes to sit beside my head. He lifts my upper torso from the leather cushion and rearranges me so I am using his thighs as a pillow. He combs his fingers through my hair.

  “Didn’t this used to be lighter? I seem to remember it was a dark-blonde colour.”

  “Mousy,” I correct. “I had it dyed.”

  “It’s nice. I like the red.”

  Fraze takes up his seat at the other end of the sofa and pulls my feet into his lap. I twist my neck to look at him, but he is unashamedly perusing my bottom.

  “It feels swollen,” I say. “And very sore.”

  Fraze grins. “I have some cream for that.”

  “No, thank you,” I mutter. “I can manage.”

  “So…” Declan sweeps my hair back from my face with his fingers. “What’s the verdict? How did you like your first spanking?”

  I have to think about that. I need to process the sensations and confused reactions a bit more. I’m struggling to find the right vocabulary to describe my response. “It was nice,” I manage, already knowing how inadequate that is, “but not what I expected.”

  “What did you expect?” asks Fraze.

  “Well, I expected you to use your hands for a start.”

  “That would have been good, too,” agreed Fraze. “Maybe next time.”

  “Next time?” I squeak, but I already know I’m going to want to do this again. The genie is well and truly out of the bottle now, my inner submissive has seen the light of day, and she won’t be going back into the dark. “With you two again? I mean, would you want to? Even though we didn’t… I mean, I wouldn’t agree to sleep with you?” I hesitate. “I did like it. Really, I did, but I don’t think I want to be spanked by anyone else.”

  Declan reaches to pat my hip, the light touch enough to make me wince. “Like we said, the fucking’s optional.”

  Fraze nods his agreement. “And now we’ve found you again we intend to keep in touch, at least, so more fuck-free spankings could definitely be on the cards. Do you live in London?”

  “Yes. Richmond. I work at the Imperial College, in the School of Medicine.”

  “I’m guessing Edinburgh’s not a place you get to that often, then?”

  “No, though it’s a beautiful city.”

  “It is. My favourite. He reckons it’s too cold and windy, though.” Fraze tilts his head in Declan’s direction. “He got soft, living in Barcelona.”

  Declan is unfazed. “Bloody Scots. They all think they’re so hard. Any moment now he’ll start waving his sporran and juggling with telegraph poles.”

  “You were born in Scotland, even if your mother did come from Ireland originally.” Fraze grins at me. “For years I thought he was a leprechaun.”

  I forget my smarting, throbbing buttocks as they trade friendly insults. It’s just like it used to be, when we were at school, apart from the fact that I’m naked from the waist down, obviously. I laugh, amazed at how comfortable I am with them

  “Don’t we have a pizza waiting?” Declan starts to get up, and I shift to let him. “I’ll get it.”

  I reach to pull up my knickers. “I’ve kept you from your food. You must be starving.”

  “No problem. Will you stay for something to eat?”

  “I shouldn’t, really. Tomorrow…”

  “We’ll walk you back after we’ve finished this.” Declan dumps the pizza box on a low table and drags it in front of the sofa. He throws back the lid, and I’m hit by the delicious smells of the cheeses and tomato. Despite my ravioli and salad at the hotel earlier, my mouth is watering. I’m starving suddenly.

  “Works up an appetite, doesn’t it? A good spanking?” Declan hands me a paper plate.

  I take it and stop arguing.

  An hour later, the remains of the pizza lie congealing in the box, just a few bits of mushroom and a couple of crusts. We swilled the food down with bottles of Belgian lager, chatted about the old days and our adventures at St Hugh’s, some of the crazier characters who were there. No mention was made of the maths exam. A clock somewhere chimes, reminding me of the time. It’s eleven o’clock, I really do have a big day looming ahead of me and I have to make an early start if I want to get out to the university campus in good time.

  “I need to go.”

  “Okay.” Fraze swings his long legs off the sofa and gets to his feet. He picks up the ruins of the pizza and ambles out of the room. When he comes back he is minus the pizza box and wearing his jacket. He flings a dark-blue fleece at D
eclan and hands me my grey jacket. “We’ll walk you back to your hotel.”

  I know better than to protest, and in any case, a night-time stroll through Edinburgh with my two favourite men will be a pleasant and fitting way to finish a momentous day.

  It takes us longer to get back to The Scotsman than it took me to walk to Fraze’s apartment, but we’re in no hurry. Fraze offers me his elbow, and Declan stations himself on my other side, so I link with him, too. The evening is cool but not uncomfortably so, and by now many of the tourist shops are closed. The restaurants and bars are still in full swing, though. Edinburgh by night is a lively place, and I’m utterly content to share the infectious ambiance with Fraze and Declan.

  “When are you going back to London?” We’re strolling along the North Bridge toward my hotel when Fraze pauses and asks me the question.

  “I booked an extra night at the hotel, for tomorrow. I was planning on some shopping on Saturday and maybe get a train back on Saturday evening. My ticket’s an open return, so I’m flexible.”

  “Don’t go shopping. Come to Lucy’s wedding.”

  “Lucy?” I frown up at him.

  “His cousin, the one who’s getting married,” Declan clarifies. “The Honourable Lucinda Sinclair. She’s marrying some guy she met on holiday in Italy, a Croation musician or something.”

  “Grgur Marak,” says Fraze. “He’s a cellist. He plays in an orchestra somewhere in Eastern Europe. I understand he’s very good.”

  Declan gives a disgusted snort. “Well, at least no one could say she’s marrying him for his money. Last I heard, Lucy’s father owns four golf courses and more hotels than I can count.”

  Fraze shrugs. “But then, you never were that good at maths, as I believe Ellie may have pointed out. Old man Sinclair owns seven hotels, but I guess that would entail taking your other mitten off to count them all, so—”

  “Stop it, both of you.” I’ve heard enough. “I can’t go to a society wedding. Apart from anything else, I haven’t been invited.”

  Fraze isn’t having that as an excuse. “You can be my plus one.”

  “No, she can be mine,” insists Declan. “Why should you get the most beautiful woman on your arm?”