by Ashe Barker
My mouth goes dry, but I will myself not to interrupt. If they want rid of me they’ll have to say so.
“We were thinking we might…” Declan pauses, not breaking eye contact with me, “… we might clarify matters somewhat.”
“Clarify?” I’m sounding like a parrot.
“Clarify,” Declan confirms. “With a collar.”
“A co—”
“We talked about this once before, a while ago.” Fraze interrupts and comes to stand close to me. He trails his fingertip around the front of my throat. “Do you remember?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “It was on the train, when we left Edinburgh that first time. You mentioned commitment.”
“That’s right. You didn’t say anything then, and it was early days. We let it go, but it’s been a few months now. We want you to consider it.”
“Consider what?” I narrow my eyes at him. He’ll have to spell this out. “What are you asking, exactly?”
Fraze cups my chin in his palm and angles my face towards his. “We want you to accept our collar, make this thing between us official. Well, as official as a collaring ceremony can be. It has meaning for us, though.”
“Like a marriage?”
“Almost exactly like a marriage, except our approach is more flexible. It can include three people, to start with. It’s a big step, an act of faith and trust for us and for the people who we invite to witness it.”
“Witnesses?” My mind is racing, not quite over the awful shock of initially thinking they wanted to end it with me. “Who would we invite?”
Declan takes over. “The people who matter to us. Close family, of course. Friends, if we trust them. You know that both Fraze and I like to keep our lifestyle low profile, so we’re not thinking of a large affair. It would be very low-key, definitely private. My mother would be there. And Miranda and Stuart.”
“Do they know about us? I mean, Miranda and Stuart, yes, but what about your mother?”
Declan shrugs. “She’s not daft. She’ll have an idea, and she’ll be all right with it. She likes you.”
“I like her, too. But…I can’t believe they’d all just accept such an arrangement. I mean, the dukedom, all of this…” I wave my arm to indicate the room, and beyond that the huge stately home, steeped in tradition, in expectation, in a sense of how things should be done.
Fraze shakes his head. “Surely you’ve realised by now that we don’t give a fuck about any of that. My family, our family, has spent at least the last couple of generations keeping up appearances but doing exactly what we liked, what makes us happy, what works for the people who matter. My father did that, my mother, too. So did Allannah when she decided it suited her to stay here rather than move on after Dec was born. It’s there in the arrangement I have with my sister, which means she has Hathersmuir, the home she loves, the place she understands, and I have my freedom to live where and how I please. Miranda runs the estate better than I ever could. It’s in her bones, and she’ll pass it on to her sons with my blessing. This thing between us, this lifestyle we’re choosing, it’s no different. We’ll make room for it, find ways to make it work.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you? You really mean it. You want this. You want me.”
Declan’s dark-chocolate eyes are heated as he regards me with the utmost seriousness for once. “We do. We absolutely do. So, is there anyone you’d want to invite?”
“I’m not sure. I mean…”
“She hasn’t even agreed to the collaring yet,” puts in Fraze.
“No, you’re right.” Declan flashes me an apologetic grin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rush you. It’s a big decision. You’ll have questions, concerns…”
I consider that for a few moments. “Actually, I don’t. Well, not many.” I manage to find my voice at last. “I… I think I understand what a collaring ceremony is. What it would mean.”
“Do you?” Declan cocks his head, one dark eyebrow raised.
Fraze chuckles. “Of course she fucking does. Our Ellie’s a researcher. She does it for a living. You’ve been ferreting out information on collaring ceremonies, haven’t you?”
“I have, yes.”
Fraze has hit the nail on the head. As soon as the idea was planted all those months ago, my curiosity was piqued. I was keen to know more, to understand the significance of the concept. So, I reverted to type and looked it up. I trawled the internet for a couple of evenings collecting articles, blog posts, any information I could find about BDSM collaring. I think it’s fair to say I'm pretty well-informed. I know exactly what I’d be letting myself in for. I shift my gaze from one to the other. “Is that what you want? Both of you?”
Their faces are solemn, serious. Declan speaks for both of them. “We do want it. Very much.”
I manage a tremulous smile as tears threaten. “I want it, too.”
Declan seizes me around the waist and swings me into the air before planting a hard kiss on my lips. Then Fraze grabs me and does much the same. I’m dizzy, my head reeling by the time we all three tumble onto the bed.
“You do realise that if — when — you wear our collar you’ll be ours. Forever.” Fraze props himself up on his elbow to peer down at me.
“I know that.”
“You’ll be obedient. Which means you strip on command.”
“Yes, Sir. Shall I do that now?”
“In a moment,” says Declan. “We might insist that you call us ‘Master’. And kneel when one of us comes into the room.”
“I’ve never done that.”
“No, but we can work on it. Can you do that, Ellie?” There’s a wicked gleam in his eye.
Is he serious?
I’m taking no chances. “I… I think I can. I want to try.”
“Good enough.”
“Will I have to live in one of your houses?”
Fraze looks at Declan, then back at me. “Not necessarily. We thought we’d keep all our places on. Your flat’s convenient for when we want to be in the city, and for your work. You won’t be giving that up, will you?”
“I don’t want to, no. But…”
“You’re good at what you do. And it’s important work. We don’t expect you to stop. Our relationship will be a private one, our public and professional lives will remain much the same, but we all know we’re together. It’s us, we three and no one else. The collar symbolises that. It says you belong to us, but it’s our responsibility to make you happy, to ensure you have all you need. And you need your work. Don’t you?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Right, then. You can strip now.”
I scramble up to kneel on the mattress between them and start to unfasten my blouse. “Where would the ceremony take place?”
Fraze answers me. “We thought here. There’s no point having a house that doubles as a wedding venue and not taking advantage of it. The ballroom is the usual place for this sort of thing. Miranda decks it out with lace drapery, flowers, pretty pink covers for the chairs.
“Pink covers? Hardly!” Declan’s distaste is writ plain across his gorgeous features. “And I think we could give the lace a miss, too.”
I tend to agree. “Maybe, since it will be a small affair, we could just have a few candles. Flowers might be nice…”
Declan nods, looking relieved. “Flowers, then. And candles. Is there anyone you’d want to have there, Ellie? Your father, perhaps?”
I gulp. “I’m not sure. I mean, he knows about you. Last time I was in Leeds I told him I was seeing you, both of you. It’s fair to say he was a bit puzzled, but he didn’t say much or ask many questions. I don’t think he realises how serious we are…”
“Do you want him to see that? To know the truth about how it is between the three of us?”
I nod. “If I’m to be married, or as close to it as I’m ever likely to come, I can’t do that without him there. Since my mother died, I’m all he has. He’d be so hurt if I didn’t include him, he’d never understand why…”
&nbs
p; “Then we need to go and see him. We’ll mount a charm offensive.” Fraze treats me to another of his sexy grins as I peel my skirt down and kick it away from the bed. “I can be very charming when the occasion calls for it.” He jerks his thumb in Declan's direction. “And he’ll do his best.”
Epilogue
“Thank you for being here.” I turn my head to smile at my father.
He stands at my side in his finest suit, pride beaming from his face as he returns my smile. “Where else would I be? My daughter, my only daughter, is getting married.”
“Not married, Dad. I explained…”
“You did, but I confess I’m still baffled.” He squeezes my hand. “I’m an old-fashioned guy, I suppose. If your mother was alive she’d understand it, I daresay.”
Personally, I doubt that. His utter bewilderment in the face of all of this makes my dad’s presence here all the more precious to me. “I’m so glad you came. I wasn’t sure if you would.”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“Look at me, Eleanor.” His tone is firm now, the voice he used to use when I misbehaved as a child.
I tilt my chin to meet his steady gaze.
“They’re fine young men, both of them. I think it’s fair to say you hit the jackpot there, though I don’t have a clue how you ended up marrying both. I won’t pretend to know how it’s all going to work, but it’s enough for me to hear you say that it will, that this is truly what you want. I’ve always trusted you. This is all a bit beyond me, but one thing I do know, and that’s what happiness looks like. I had it with your mother, and I see it now, when I look at you. You’re glowing, my love, and if your duke and your footballer can do that for you, then I’ve no quarrel with either of them. Your mother would have said the same.”
“I love you, Dad.”
“And I love you. I’m the proudest man here, do you know that?”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me tight. “Stop thanking me. I’m your dad, you can take me for granted. Anyway, I think it’s just about time for us to go in.”
Fraze, Declan, and I discussed the type of ceremony we ought to have and opted to design our own. We decided on something simple and short, modelled on a traditional wedding ceremony. So, my dress is white, though with no lace since Declan apparently loathes the stuff. I settled for a swathe of pale silk, and I love the way it drapes around my hips. The neckline is low but not provocative, and the bodice is decorated with small bows. The whole thing laces up the back, corset-style. I wear no jewellery, but I do carry two roses in my hand. Despite the valiant efforts of the saleswoman in the bridal shop, I didn’t purchase a veil or headdress. My hair is secured in a small knot at the back of my head. Miranda helped me to pin it up after she’d laced me into my gorgeous gown.
We agreed on a guest list of just four—Miranda, Stuart, Allannah, and my father. Miranda’s boys are away for the weekend, and to avoid any unwelcome attention, the servants have been given time off. The only one to remain is Mrs McBride who insists upon cooking and serving us a meal to celebrate this special event. The plan is to sit down together in the dining room after the formal part of the gathering is concluded.
Everyone else is already assembled. I am to enter last, with my father. He insisted he wanted to walk me down the aisle, or the Hathersmuir ballroom equivalent of it, so we wove that into the ceremony. We stand at the closed door, ready to make our entrance.
“Ready?” He looks to me for my signal.
I nod, and he reaches for the door handle.
Music is playing, the soft, muted melody of Stanley Myers’ Cavatina. I halt in the doorway to take in the scene.
Fraze and Declan face me from the far end of the huge room, flanked by Allannah, Miranda, and Stuart. Formally dressed, Fraze in his traditional family tartan and Declan in a crisp, grey suit, my two Doms have never looked more handsome, never sexier, never more forbidding that they do in this moment. My stomach clenches, my pussy tingles. If this dress would permit underwear it would be damp. I swallow hard.
“Sweetheart?” My father extends his elbow, and I slide my hand into the crook of it. He takes a pace forward, and I match his step.
We walk the length of the ballroom, our progress slow, measured. I’m glad of my father’s calm, his strength. I could never have done this alone. We reach the silent group waiting for us. My father relinquishes my hand and moves to the side to stand next to Allannah.
I face Fraze and Declan, and the music dies away. The room is silent for a few moments, then I slowly drop to my knees before my two Doms. I hold my head straight but lower my gaze to the polished floor.
Long moments pass as I wait for the ceremony to commence.
“Do you offer us your love?” Fraze speaks first.
“I do, Sir. I offer my love to you.” My heart is thumping. I’m so nervous I can barely speak. My voice sounds breathy as I try to say my words clearly.
Declan speaks next. “Do you offer your love to both of us, unconditionally?”
“I do, Sir. I swear it.”
“Do you offer us your submission and your obedience?”
“I do, Sir. I swear to obey each of you, and to submit to your control, both individually and together.”
“Do you do so of your own free will? Do you choose to belong to us?”
“I do, Sir.”
“And do you bring a symbol to demonstrate that commitment?”
“I bring you each a rose, Sir, to signify my love and my respect, and my lifelong submission.” I hold out the two red roses, and they each take one to attach to their lapels.
Declan continues the ceremony. “We thank you for your gifts. This collar symbolises our ownership of you, and our lifelong commitment to take care of you, to control your life with respect and love, and to do all in our power to ensure your happiness and wellbeing.”
He turns to pick up the collar, which has been on a table behind them. I’m excited, eager to see it, but I know that my part in this ritual involves not looking up until I am given permission to do so. I keep my eyes lowered when Declan bends to place the collar around my bare neck.
The metal is cool against my skin, but the piece feels light. His fingers brush the nape of my neck as he fastens the collar, then Fraze leans in to secure a second clasp. They straighten, then Declan lays his hand on the top of my head.
“You may look up now.”
I do, and my pussy clenches. They are so sexy, so stern, so impossibly gorgeous. And so mine.
Fraze also places his palm on my head. “You belong to us now, our submissive. Never forget the honour and respect we have for you. You have submitted willingly to our care and control, and should it be required, to our discipline. We promise to take our responsibilities seriously, to always treasure the gift of your submission, as it deserves. We will endeavour to always be worthy of the trust you have shown us today.”
They both extend a hand, and I place my palms in each of theirs. They draw me to my feet. Fraze kisses me first, a chaste peck on my cheek. Declan follows suit, then grasps me around my waist and hugs me to him.
“Loving the dress,” he growls before sliding his lips across mine.
Fraze swings me about to face him and plants a much more suggestive kiss on my lips. “Me, too,” he agrees, “though you’ll look even better without it.”
“For Heaven’s sake, put the girl down.” Allannah bats Fraze’s hands away. “Let me look at her. Oooh, that’s beautiful.” She trails her fingers along my new collar. “It’s gold, I can see that, and platinum.”
“Nothing but the best for our Ellie,” confirms Fraze. “Dec designed it, and we had it made in Edinburgh.”
Allannah links her arm in mine. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”
Miranda does her own inspection of my collar. “It really is exquisite.” She turns to my father. “Don’t you think so, Mr Scott?”
“Please,
call me Harry.” My dad still looks slightly stunned by the whole affair but is already beaming and shaking hands, first with Declan, then Fraze.
Stuart is busily pouring drinks for everyone and proposes a toast. “To happy families,” he announces to the room at large when we are all supplied with a flute of sparkling champagne.
We return the toast and toss back the champagne, then Miranda takes my other arm. “Such a lovely ceremony, very moving. It was perfect, quite perfect.”
I have to agree.
Miranda steers me towards the door. “Shall we go down to the dining room? I believe Mrs McBride has outdone herself…”
The rest of the group follow us, still exchanging congratulations. I want to pinch myself but resist the urge. Sometimes, however strange, however impossible, dreams do come true.
From the Author
Thank you for reading Her Two Doms. If you enjoyed the story, I would really appreciate it if you would leave a review. Reviews are invaluable to indie authors in helping us to market our books and they provide useful feedback to help us work even harder to bring you more of the stories you love.
About the Author
USA Today best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.
Ashe lives in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors and enjoys the occasional flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey tea. When not writing – which is not very often these days - her time is divided between her role as taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises. And a very grumpy cockatiel.
At the last count Ashe had around sixty titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She writes M/f, M/M, and occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s books invariably feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but offering far more than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex characters, and to lose herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes too.
