Submissive Angel: A BDSM Romance Novella Page 21

  As his Master caressed the curves of Ange’s ass through the ballet tights, Ange felt the pressure of the strap between his buttocks. If Robert cut that free, opened up the back of the tights, he’d have full access to Ange.

  Though Ange could vividly imagine it, Robert didn’t do that right now. Instead he turned his attention to putting two silver padlocks where the straps buckled at the hips. Robert clicked the locks closed with a satisfied look that said no one would be taking them off but him.

  Ange swayed, overcome. Robert steadied him, though his voice remained smooth, cruelly unconcerned with Ange’s agitated state. That indifferent Master’s voice that could keep Ange impossibly hard.

  “This jock comes with cock straps.” Robert rolled a black condom over Ange’s erection, then gripped those three straps, sewn to the front of the jock. He wrapped them over Ange’s cock at the base, the middle, and right under the head. They held Ange’s dick securely against his body, pointed upward to display it. Through the translucent condom, he could see the fluid blotting the tip.

  Robert gave Ange’s cock a light slap that sent tingles shooting all over his body. “Put your jeans on over it. When we get to the club, you’ll take them off and wear the tights, jock and your collar, and that’s it.” He gave Ange a thorough look. “Got a problem with that?”

  “No, sir.” Ange was used to performing, but being in front of a full audience like this, for this, was new. His face must have shown that worry, because Robert put a hand on his collar, tugged. “You know what this says?”

  “That I belong to you.”

  “It sure the hell does. You’re going to get eye-fucked to death, no question, but not a single hand gets laid on you other than mine unless I say so, and I don’t share, Ange. Beginning and end of that story. Keep that in mind if your eyes linger too long on any other Master’s dick.”

  “No, Master. I’d never…”

  “I know that.” Robert’s tone held stern reassurance. “But it’s human to look. I’m just warning you not to linger, unless you want me to cut a hole in the back of those tights and shove this plug into you.”

  He returned to the closet and emerged with a plug that had Ange’s eyes widening.

  “That’s not…anatomically possible.”

  “You’d be surprised how much the anus can stretch. You could take two dicks in there.” He leaned in, gave Ange a look that shot straight to his balls. “Or my fist, if I was of a mind to put it there, and you’d beg for it. But if I feel like I need to keep your mind off other Master’s dicks, I can make putting this in pretty damn uncomfortable without causing permanent damage. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ange managed, enough of a squeak to his voice to win Robert’s amusement.

  “Good boy. This next thing I’m going to say is important. Are you listening?”

  “Yes, sir. Always.” Ange met Robert’s gaze briefly to prove it, and saw his Master was as serious as he could be.

  “My attention will be on you every moment that we play, Ange. But I’m sure you know about safe words. Give me a slow-it-down and full-stop word. Meet my gaze when you say them, so I’ll see you’ll use them when you should. Nothing’s more important to me than us both enjoying tonight, getting the most out of it.”

  The hand he had on Ange was at his waist now, kneading, massaging. A reassurance and a promise that he meant it. Yeah. Ange’s heart and his cock weren’t separate things when it came to Robert. Not ever. Ange’s gaze slid past him to the dresser.

  “Baker for slow down. Chimney for stop.”

  Robert glanced over his shoulder at the Lehmann toy and smiled. “Got it. Now go put on your clothes. Meet me downstairs.”

  When he went to the guestroom, Ange found putting jeans on over his erection was a cautious affair. He tugged a heavy-weight black T-shirt over that. Since Robert had left it draped over a chair in the guest room, Ange deduced it was his Master’s preference for him. Robert had also left him a pair of black laced boots, slightly higher than the ankle, with thick treads, and a pair of matching short socks.

  Coming downstairs, he saw his Master had an opaque garment bag over his shoulder. He also had the sizeable case he’d pulled out of the safe a few nights ago. The one that had held the padded collar and cuffs, as well as the collar Ange wore now. He wondered what other things Robert was carrying in it. Normally Ange could have walked en pointe down those steep stairs, but he found himself holding onto the banister to keep from stumbling. Robert’s gaze glinted with satisfaction.

  “Just the way I want you. Off balance and looking to me to keep you steady.” In a tender contrast, he brushed his knuckles along Ange’s jaw, tugged his hair. “I love you, kid. You know that, right?”

  The surge of warmth, competing with all the physical and emotional responses, had Ange’s eyes getting suspiciously wet. What the hell? Now he did sway, but his Master’s hand was on him. Robert had dropped the items he was carrying to circle Ange’s waist, lift and shove him against the wall in an unexpectedly forceful way. His Master devoured his mouth, his tears, put his lips all over his face, until all Ange could do was hang on, blissed out from the attention. Robert pressed his strong, burly body against Ange from chest to hips, letting him feel the power of the cock that wanted him.

  When Robert at last stepped back, he kept a hand on Ange until he was sure he could stand on his own. Then he picked up the garment bag and case again. “Keeping you off balance is just how I want you. Don’t hold anything back but what I tell you to. Come on.”

  Chapter Eleven

  On the way there, Ange had his head propped on the seat back, his hand firmly in Robert’s clasp, resting on his Master’s thigh. The world was a blur of melting snow, Christmas and city lights decorating the world, giving it a festive, anticipatory air. He was floating in a zone of lust and vibrating anticipation, so he was barely aware that thirty minutes had passed before Robert pulled into a parking lot.

  The club was in the predictably crappy area of town. The access door was an unremarkable portal, except for the name of the establishment, done in an elaborate gold calligraphy with a ruby red shadowing around it.

  Patriarch – Members Only.

  Robert swiped a key card over the security access to unlatch the door. He held it for Ange, and directed him up a short flight of stairs. At the threshold of the scarred wooden door at the top, Robert took the lead. However, as he put his hand on the latch, he stopped. Ange, on the step just below him, waited, sensing that Robert’s head had gone somewhere.

  “It’s been awhile,” Robert said at last. “Just taking a breath.”

  Ange pressed against his back, not an impropriety. Just moving as close as he could, to let him know he was here for him, too. After the meeting with Helena, Ange understood. Even a welcoming re-entry into a world could be a bit overwhelming, especially when the path traveled since the last visit had re-shaped the person. Would it feel the same? Be the same? Better or worse?

  Robert tilted his head to give him a look over his shoulder. “Okay,” he said. Then he opened the door.

  As Ange had predicted, the welcome wasn’t in doubt. As soon as Robert came down the short hallway and into view of the holiday party in process, a rousing call of welcome came from a chorus of male voices, including one Ange recognized.

  Charlie’s face was wreathed in a huge smile as he closed the distance between them. He shook Robert’s hand, gripping his upper arm so warmly it was a near hug. “So good to see you here, Robert.” He looked toward Ange. The warmth was still in his gaze, but something different, too. Charlie wasn’t looking at him as a host, Ange a guest at his house. Here Charlie was another Dom, addressing his greeting for Ange directly to his Master. “And we’re very glad you brought your sub with you.”

  As others came forward to express similar welcomes, Ange glanced around to get a sense of the place. Warehouse style, stark, with plenty of concrete and metal scaffolding, hung with convenient chains and straps. Key spotlighting mixed with sh
adows. Scattered equipment had been positioned in ways that would give the players their space and observers a good view.

  There were two levels. The floor space upstairs was also open to view behind metal pole railings draped with Christmas decorations. Gold and silver tinsel garlands fluttered from the movement of large ceiling fans and a couple of mounted black industrial fans, their low roar adding to the club atmosphere. The air movement kept things comfortable, without dissipating the lingering odors of male sweat and need this much sexual intent and anticipation could create.

  Where Ange and Robert stood now, a small socializing area had been created, including a table loaded with potluck offerings of hors d’oeuvres, sugar cookies, and a Yule-themed erotic centerpiece. It had cake pops shaped like dicks, with red and green icing cock collars, as well as sugar cookies decorated with glittering handcuffs made with sprinkles and silver icing. Similarly irreverent but cheerful decorations filled in the bouquet.

  “Where are the queens?” Robert asked Charlie.

  “On their way back from Virginia Beach. Dallas said for sure they’d be home before midnight. Don’t want to miss gift-giving in the morning.” Charlie grinned, his brindle moustache bristling. “Billie DeeLite talked them into doing a last minute fill-in on a charity benefit. Theopolis calls it trotting out the fossils to make them feel useful. Total bullshit. If Billie could coax them out on the road with him, he would. He has them doing a performance on Valentine’s Day at the Wonder Theater. You’ll have to come. They’ve worked up some new routines that put Vegas productions to shame.”

  “We’ll look forward to it.” Robert turned to Ange, put a familiar hand high on his ass, his thumb caressing his lower back. “Take off your jeans and shirt in the sub locker room.” He gestured toward a narrow corridor. “I’m going to go change in the Dom area. Find me in the dedicated playroom.”

  He nodded to a wide archway, across the room from where they were now.

  “Yes, Master.”

  Robert was obviously well-regarded here, so Ange hoped he’d do his Master credit. The best way to do that was being obedient and responsive, which was what he wanted anyway. He wanted to prove just how good he could be. But he was a little nervous, which his Master acknowledged with an additional ass squeeze.

  “Don’t forget what I said.”

  No one would touch Ange but him. It was a helpful reminder, because while Ange was comfortable with Charlie’s attention, there were plenty of others taking that eye-fuck Robert had mentioned. And Ange hadn’t even taken off his clothes yet.

  When he entered the sub changing room, he found it had open space for that purpose, as well as two enclosed bathroom stalls. A shower area allowed for clean up before or after sessions. Several subs were in the room and nodded to him. A couple were chatting, obviously unattached and here to be picked up, if things worked out that way. The ones he thought already had Masters were quiet. Like him, they would be getting into their headspace, focusing on what their Doms would require of them.

  One of those wore latex shorts and a collar. He stood at the mirror, applying dark liner around his expressive brown eyes. The latex strained over his buttocks as he leaned forward. Another man nearby was strapping his dick in a cock harness. It was all he wore below the waist, though he had on a tight-fitting leather shirt.

  Ange removed the boots Robert had provided him. He took off the jeans, coat and T-shirt, put them in a locker, and pulled on the boots again. The simple acts settled him deeper into the anticipation, but they also heightened his nerves. When he approached one of the mirrors for a quick check, he told himself he was looking at a sub ready to serve his Master. His cock was cooperating, straining against the trio of straps, and his collar twitched against his throat as Ange swallowed.

  He’d thought he had his feet back under him from the emotional roller coaster of the past couple days, but he noticed his eyes looked too big for his face. Despite his attempt to run a casual hand through his hair, tousling it further the way Robert liked, his heart accelerated at the things he saw reflected back at him. In this stark light, in this new environment, that fragility was still there, like a cracked porcelain angel glued back together.

  His hand descended but didn’t drop to his side. It landed on his stomach, over the permanent evidence of the two bullets that had nearly killed him.

  For a long time after that pivotal day, his sleep hadn’t been good. He’d routinely bolted out of it, covered in cold sweat, chased by nightmares of Clarissa dying in his arms. Leo’s cry of surprise, then of agony, then nothing. The confusion and fear in his eyes.

  No one should ever watch anyone die a violent death.

  Crap and fuck. Why had he let his head go there? The room swam and Ange dropped to a squat, bracing himself with splayed fingertips on the tile floor. Not here. Not now.

  Please don’t do this to me. He didn’t know who the plea was aimed at, but he’d known this could happen. New environment, a lot of excitement and change. He was particularly vulnerable at this time of year. While the past few days had held so many wonderful things, it couldn’t seem to stop his fucked-up head from digging the event out of his subconscious.

  “Hey, man.” The sub in the shorts had capped the eye liner and turned, was kneeling next to him. “Okay?”

  He didn’t touch Ange, but he was close enough to do so. He had a Marine haircut and Semper Fi tattooed over his heart. His shrewd glance at the bullet scars said he might understand a little more than most what was going on with Ange.

  “I can go get your Dom if you need him,” he said quietly. “Just say the word.”

  “I always need him. But I can go to him. Thanks. I’m Ange.” Steadier now for having the obvious support, Ange managed to meet the calm eyes, hold the lock.

  “Okay. Chase is my scene name.” The man nodded. “See you on the floor. Or not. Sometimes we don’t see much once our Masters start to work us over, right?”

  “If it’s done right,” the other sub said, the one who now had his cock thoroughly tied up in straps and chains. He’d been watching, obviously ready to lend support, too. Now he gave them both a wink. “See you on the other side of heaven and hell, darlings.”

  As he exited, Ange made it back to his feet. He gave Chase one more nod, confirming he was okay. The man’s gaze swept him, a quick evaluation, but he returned the nod and left Ange.

  He was now alone in the locker area. Ange closed his eyes. Trying to fight it would make it worse, so he focused on what would do just the opposite.

  Robert loved him. Robert knew him, knew his strengths and weaknesses. If Ange couldn’t do this tonight, he’d be more than okay with it. He wouldn’t give a damn what anyone thought. And Robert had the type of friends, like Charlie, who understood what a Dom/sub relationship was supposed to be.

  Ange had spent these past months learning about that himself. He now knew what a safety net could be, when your Dom loved you, put your well-being over anything else.

  That thought, the truth of it, reduced Ange’s anxiety over blowing this up. Christmas miracle of Christmas miracles, the episode started ebbing away. He could do this. Not just because he wanted to please Robert, but because he wanted to be claimed by his Master here, in this space. All he had to do was reach for that truth in his mind, and it would take the lead.

  He took a couple deep breaths and imagined the details of it. Robert’s hands, his voice, his presence. He needed and wanted those things.

  He just had to get his ass out of this room and go find them. He thought of how incredibly hot Robert had looked in what he’d worn to the theater last night, the black shirt and gray suit, and wondered what he’d be wearing tonight. He’d said he was going to change in the other locker room.

  Ange thought of the masculine smell of Robert’s aftershave, inhaled to remind himself of it. He could do that, because he’d used some of it himself after his shower, just to have Robert’s scent on him.

  His heart was thumping harder for the right reasons n
ow. He was ready.

  When he emerged, he headed straight for the wide archway, hoping Robert was dressed and waiting. As expected, he heard a burst of sharp whistles and lewd comments. Nothing unexpected, given the environment and him wearing only boots and a leather jock, his cock out and strapped.

  But he was wearing a custom-made collar, too. Not a generic service one. Yeah, he felt exposed, vulnerable, nervous, but not in a bad way. Robert had said no one would touch him. Robert wouldn’t bring him to a place where people couldn’t be trusted. Robert had always taken care of him.

  Every step toward the archway made Ange’s body heavier with need and want. When he saw what lay past the threshold, that feeling increased threefold.

  The dedicated dungeon area was a bigger version of the area with the food table. More equipment, scaffolding, tall dark cement walls. But no Christmas decorations. This place had one purpose, no distractions from it. The dim constant lighting was enhanced by a trio of spotlights that continually swept over the scenes in process.

  One older man was getting worked over by his Dom, a slim younger man wielding a flogger with enthusiasm. The sub was tied spread-eagle to a spot on the scaffolding, his red ass flexing. With every strong blow, he made a short, involuntary cry.

  Another Master was enthusiastically pounding his cock into a man bent over a spanking bench. It was the sub wearing the cock harness. Ange licked suddenly dry lips, his stomach somersaulting. The guy’s Master must have ordered him to bend and spread them and gone at him right away, no foreplay. Though with this environment, foreplay was hardly needed—it was merely another torment for cocks already straining for attention.