Chapter 53

The show begins and while Monroe is concentrating on his part, I work on the intricate web in the corner. I start at the bottom, creating foot holds to travel upward as I add to the height of the design. My movements are swift and precise, the product of years of collaboration with Monroe.
I finish the formation before the end of the scene with Cheri, and I'm able to turn and watch when her Dom administers a flogger. She spins beautifully with each blow. The scene winds down, and Monroe lowers Cheri into her Dom's waiting arms. He quickly removes her bindings and her Master carries her away from the demonstration area.
I remove my shirt and shoes and begin stretching. My bad knee will be taking some punishment in this scene, but I know I can place most of my weight on my good leg. When my body is loose and warm I look toward Monroe, who is speaking with one of the observers. He's as attuned to me as I am to him. He immediately looks over, cuts off his conversation, and approaches me.
"Will your knee be a problem?" he asks as soon as he's near enough so no one overhears.
I subtly shake my head. "No, I took a few ibuprofens an hour ago and the knee's feeling much better after the pampering Marguerite gave me today."
He looks me over closely. I'm accustomed to pre-scene attention. He cares about the people working with him and he takes safety seriously. "This will be intense," he says with a last look at my knee.
I give him a slight smirk. "You think I expect something different?"
His eyes go a tad darker. "No, but I expect you to speak up if this is too much." He lifts my hands and checks for the cuts and rope burns I'm known for when doing my own scenes. He drops my hands and gives his first grin of the night. "Knowing you, I am being rather na飗e."
"I won't look very dominant if my leg gives out and I fall on my ass, so I'll let you know if I'm having problems."
He nods. "Are you ready?"
"Let's do it." I reach up and grab the bar hanging from the ceiling. My chest will be webbed and knotted, but I'll have complete mobility even after the winch lifts me.
Monroe begins securing doubled strands around my body. I take slow steady breaths and relax into the feel of the rope and the sound of Monroe's breathing. Occasionally, as he works, Monroe looks into my eyes to gauge my physical condition and state of mind. My dick has a mind of its own. It's a good thing that I got over my embarrassment years ago.
After Monroe's incredible artwork harnesses me, he attaches the rope at my back to a spring-loaded hoist. I climb the web as the winch electrically tightens. I've done this before so I know to test the tension to make sure it has the correct give. When I'm high enough, about eight feet off the ground, I turn around and secure the arches of my feet into loops of the web I created earlier. I place my arms through the web and circle them out so my upper arm muscles take the weight of the rope. When I'm situated, Monroe hands up two coils of rope and I tuck them into the waistband of my pants.
At Monroe's nod, someone lowers the lights. The attention of the audience shifts from us to Angel as she's led out. She looks incredibly small walking between the two large, muscled slaves. Her hands are secured with leather wrist cuffs and there's a chain holding them together.
This is Monroe's idea of a production. The man is genius at mesmerizing an audience. One of the men holds tight to the end of the chain. Angel's dark hair is pulled tight to the top of her head and braided. When she struggles and tries to twist from one of the men, I notice her braid hangs past her ass. She's completely naked-her breasts, maybe a size C cup or a little larger, are on display with rosy, need to be sucked, nipples. Her hips are accented by a narrow waist, and though she can't be over five-three, her legs are long and slender. A red blindfold covers her eyes and knots at the back of her head with the ends woven into the braid. I inhale at the exquisite picture she presents. Absolutely stunning.
My cock stirs again and I realize I should have taken Damian up on his offer to play a little beforehand. After two more calming breaths, I gain control of myself though I know it won't last forever. Angel's token struggles are part of the show, but they play havoc with my cock.
"Step aside," Monroe orders the men. They comply instantly and one places the chain in Monroe's hand. Monroe lightly brushes the fingers of his other hand across Angel's jaw and over her cheek. When she tries to pull back, he tightens his grip on the chain and jerks her down to her knees. His hand goes to the back of her head and he lifts her braid, pulling it so the hair trails through his fingers until he's several inches from the end of her braid. He then lifts the rope of hair and hands the end to me when I lean down to grab.
From my position, I can't do what I long to do. It actually hurts not to bring the braid to my nose and inhale. If I have a fetish besides bondage and teeth, it's the silky feel and perfume of a woman's hair. I settle for pulling her hair upward and slightly back to expose the slender lines of her neck to the onlookers.
Monroe goes to his knees and places a kiss at the juncture of her throat where it curves and meets her shoulder. Taking a small key from his pocket, he releases the chain from the cuffs while holding her hands together. He grabs her arms tightly and pulls her to her feet as part of the show. He'll leave bruises and the thought only turns me on more. I might not be heavy handed with subs, and don't consider myself a sadist, but this doesn't mean I don't appreciate a sub's body bruised by rope or impact play. I actually think it's their submission to it and the yearning for it that turns me on. I'm also no longer an officer and not wearing a mask tonight has freed me in some way. I have no guilt that I'll enjoy the bruises Monroe leaves on Angel. I plan to leave several of my own.
The onlookers stay silent and completely mesmerized. The only sound is the steady beat of some dark and primal instrumental music in the background. This is the allure of Monroe's erotic sculpture. He lives for the eroticism of weaving rope and creating his idea of a masterpiece.
Monroe nods after pulling Angel slightly back toward him. She's about eight inches away when he turns her. He pulls her arms behind her back, wrist on wrist, and begins looping the strands of rope around her wrists using a square knot to secure them before bringing the rope over her shoulder.
Angel remains stoic while he works and I can't help but wonder what she's thinking right now. Her pouty red lips press together firmly. It's the only sign that she may not be enjoying her part in the scene. This might be the remnants of her behavior from her punishment. Who knows? I can't help but wonder the "why" of Monroe's actions. His taking on a slave makes no sense. I can't deny her beauty. And beyond beauty there's something about Angel that gives my dick an extra jolt. Monroe surrounds himself with stunning women all the time and none has ever interested him for a permanent relationship.
Until this woman.
And it's driving me crazy.
Monroe adjusts the rope over her upper arm and continues weaving it around her to include her other arm. He works with a single-minded purpose, completely in his zone, his eyes reflecting the intensity of what he's creating.
Monroe's models live for the occasional smile or gentle caress while he works. He knows just what to do to keep them malleable. Angel can't see him, but Monroe makes sure she knows she's cared for by kissing her neck and shoulder, offering comfort and praise with low whispers in her ear. It might be a show but Monroe will never compromise safety.
I watch as the double strands twist below the weight of her breast. Monroe runs his hand beneath her breasts, straightening and then tightening the loop around her front so her breasts pinch together between the strands. He ties off the end at her back and continues crossing the free end of the rope over her shoulders and between her breasts in an intricate pattern.
When he's finished, he walks to the side of the demonstration area and comes back with two jeweled nipple clamps. He roughly pulls Angel back to his chest and clips the clamps quickly on her nipples, leaving a thin gold chain dangling between the sweet swells. She gives a low groan and flinches slightly.
I loosen my grip on her hair, allowing her head to drop forward in submission.
Monroe reaches up, passing the end of the rope connected to her back through a suspension ring. Hers is not spring-loaded, and from here on out, her mobility will be curtailed completely. She rises to her tiptoes when Monroe pulls the rope tight and then he gives me a nod.
I grab the web with one hand and then remove my feet from the rope structure, using my good leg to push slightly away. With the spring-loaded winch attached to my harness, I move easily, looking almost as though I'm floating. I circle my other leg around Angel's upper body, lowering myself further until I grasp her upper arms.
I feel the heat she's giving off through the thin cotton of my pants. Her face turns in my direction when she realizes I'm controlling her movements too.
"It's Master Zach," I whisper into her ear, "and you are the food I'm waiting to devour."
Her smile is brilliant, sexy, and unexpected, throwing me for a loop. In a slight daze, I pull my eyes away from her soft lips and meet the satisfied look on Monroe's face.