Free Two Masters for Alex by Claire Thompson Page A

She’d been excited all day, waiting with eager anticipation for Liam’s arrival so the fun could begin. Half-formulated fantasies of the three of them tumbling between soft sheets, herself bound in silken ropes as they teased and sexually tortured her until she passed out from ecstasy, had been playing out in her head as she scrubbed, dusted and mopped.
    She hadn’t been lying in the initial interview when she’d assured them she loved to be bound and sexually tortured, but she was realizing now perhaps her definition of a whipping—soft leather kisses raining sensually down—didn’t necessarily match theirs. Was she going to ruin everything her first day by wimping out? Absolutely not! She marched from the bathroom, feeling resolute. She had little idea of what was to come, but she instinctively liked and trusted both Liam and Daniel. She only hoped whatever Daniel lacked in practical skill, Liam would offset with his masterful control of them both.
    * * * * *
    “This is some setup you guys have,” Alex said, turning slowly.
    “It is that. We’ve had some great parties in here. But mostly it’s just Liam and me. You can get lost in here. Lose all sense of time and place.” He stroked the smooth wood of the St. Andrew’s Cross as if stroking the skin of a lover. He looked up as he heard Liam’s soft tread nearing. “Hurry! He’s coming. In this room, we wait with our foreheads touching the ground, ass up. Just do what I do.”
    He knelt, his heart speeding as Liam’s footsteps came closer. No matter how many times he waited for his Master to appear and for the sensual torture sessions to begin, he couldn’t help the patter of his heart or the rise of his cock in anticipation. Alex knelt beside him. He stole a glance at her as they waited. Her hair obscured her face and her pert little bottom was raised high. He knew she wouldn’t be permitted to keep that clingy dress on for long.
    All day, even when she hadn’t been near him, he’d been hyperaware of her presence, falling constantly into fantasies of pulling her clothing from her body and whipping the delicate, feminine flesh until she cried for mercy. It was as if the dominant feelings that had only been half-formed bits of whimsy when they’d first discussed them had poured forth into his consciousness like water from a broken dam. The realization that in a few moments he would make his fantasies a reality had him nearly panting with anticipation.
    He took a deep, cleansing breath, making a conscious effort to slow his heart rate as Liam had taught him. Liam had been the first man to take him past the point of simple erotic play to a place much deeper. The path had not always been smooth. During particularly intense sessions Daniel’s breath would become so fast and shallow he would grow dizzy, once nearly passing out from lack of oxygen.
    He recalled one time in particular, early on in their relationship. Liam had tethered him to the St. Andrew’s Cross, his wrists and ankles secured by the soft leather cuffs attached to the corners. He was facing the cross, his body a taut X, his back and ass crisscrossed with lines of fire. He’d lost track of time, marking its passage only by the changing implements of torture Liam chose to use. The stroke of soft, braided suede had given way to the slap of the riding crop. Daniel, who could take quite a bit of erotic pain and reveled in its delivery, hadn’t been prepared for the slice of the cane.
    When it came, its warning whoosh singing in the air a split second before rattan made contact with flesh, Daniel screamed. When the second slice quickly followed the first, he knew Liam didn’t plan to stop. Liam decreed he could take it and so take it he would. Up until that moment he had been grace incarnate, exhibiting what Liam called “submissive courage”. Now he cried out, “No! I can’t!”
    “Of course you can,” Liam said calmly. “Take it for me.”
    Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, tensing so