Chapter 79: Monroe
PART THREE
When he created art, his mind traveled a transcendental journey. His brain craved the endorphins released when he mastered the rope, using bondage to fulfill his need to fully dominate on all levels. He compared this unique high with a submissive in subspace-a place where the world existed on a different plane. Where his universe became a tight steady coil of energy between him and his model, or, during this past year, his two exclusive models.
The double length of rope slipped through Monroe's fingers as he crafted the picture only his mind could see. His thoughts, though attentive to his subjects, synchronized with the intricacies of the bondage and echoed in his mind.
Angel was like the rope... she called to the inner reaches of his soul. Each human thread twined together, creating silky-flawless-beauty. He looked at the swells of delicate flesh molded by the bindings. When removed, the strands left behind telltale indentations and bruising-the exquisite impressions of his art, incomplete until his fingers traveled each furrow. Monroe shook his head slightly, smiling to himself as his cock swelled with longing to sink into her sweet, fuckable mouth. Until Angel, he hadn't fully understood the art of touch that resonated deep inside his subconscious. But with her, he wanted everything... mind, body, and soul. It always amazed him that she unconditionally gave it all.
His attention turned to his other subject.
In contrast, Zachery embodied the intricate knots. A helix of complexity twining into tightly coiled bindings of earth and fire. His heat-an inferno of justice burdened by humanity. Compassion, buried just beneath the nexus of braid, completely honorable and absolutely un... touchable.
The rope glided with choreographed movement, sinking Monroe further within his creation. He absorbed the combined essence of Zachery and Angel, letting the cord sculpt their bodies. Both remained quiet, their breathing controlled and synchronized. Without conscious thought, Monroe looked into their eyes-one pair an ocean blue, and the other a shade of green that changed with mood. He judged their compliance, so different from each other-both needing fulfillment, but only one relishing it.
Angel's blissful smile took Monroe further down his path. He cherished her honest submission, the complete acquiescence to his control-absolute trust and unquestionable love. He momentarily focused on her because she left no room for doubt.
Glancing up from the final knot, Monroe looked into Zachery's hazel depths; the green, now overshadowed by brownish gold flakes. Bondage gave Zachery the opportunity to yield, though he never crossed the final barrier. A minuscule spark of stubbornness continued holding him captive in his inability to fully submit.
Zachery had returned to their lives a year ago. In some ways things improved, but in others... nothing changed. A m閚age ?trois, complex in its sensual giving yet stalled by Zachery's invisible shields. Monroe knew time was the key, but he asked for this session today because he no longer had time.
He kneeled on the mat, touched the button on the electronic winch, and then watched their bodies sway.
Breathtaking.
Hot, burning desire sent a jolt to his hard cock. He reached out and pushed Angel's thigh to increase the movement. Five minutes passed as they allowed him the precious gift of admiring his art. How many times had they fallen under the spell of the rope? How many times had Zachery refused Monroe's silent call for submission?
Reality slowly came into focus and Monroe stopped his mental questions. He stood, adjusted the special lighting, and then walked over and picked up the camera to capture portraits of what he'd named "Divine Bondage." Click, click, click... he used black and white film because it picked up the nuances of his design, but no picture would ever capture the heartfelt devotion he felt at the design's completion.
Setting the camera down, he grasped the back of Angel's neck and slowly pulled her close, running his nose along her hairline to her ear. "I love you," he whispered while inhaling the sweet spice of her skin.
She smiled softly, glazed eyes showing her level of subspace. Without releasing Angel, he ran his other hand over Zachery's torso, skimming the bindings. He ignored Zachery's slight flinch and continued until he held his jaw. No words passed Monroe's lips as he allowed his captive's eyes to shift away. Fuck it. Monroe's lips briefly met Zachery's forehead. He had not planned it, but Zachery's musky scent pulled him in. A hint of sweat transferred to his lips and his tongue slid over the salty taste, absorbing it into his cells.
He glanced up.
Zachery's gaze burned with angry displeasure.
Damn. He should not have risked their fragile relationship by letting his feelings for Zachery flow past their tentative alliance where Angel reposed in the middle. She was their strength, the bond that held the men together. Monroe's dreams were not just of the intricate patterns of art, or the depressions from rope pressed onto Angel's flesh... he ached for Zachery.
Silently, Monroe pressed the button to partially lower the winch. He then unfurled Zachery's bindings, stopping to massage ripples of tight muscle held immobile throughout the scene. It was the only time, outside of the bondage itself that Zachery allowed him unrestricted touch, and Monroe shamelessly took advantage.
Angel remained motionless, deep within her intoxication. She amazed him each time-a Shibari model extraordinaire, with grace, beauty, and discipline. The last of the rope fell from Zachery's sculpted frame. Monroe turned away and began meticulously wrapping each fallen length of rope exactly as he preferred them, and gave Zachery the gift of extracting Angel from the web.
His cock was painfully erect as he watched Zachery and Angel from the corner of his eye. Across Zachery's arms, back, and thighs, the indents of the rope and knots had left their mark. They would fade quickly, unlike Angel's. But those marks on Zachery's body turned Monroe on more than if the man went to his knees and gave him a blowjob. His cock jumped and he reassessed his thinking. Zachery's lips on his cock would set him off with the first touch, no doubt.
Angel came free and Zachery picked her up, walking toward the dungeon without a backward glance. Monroe loosely circled each thirty-five foot section of rope and then placed them back in their cabinet along the far wall. He picked up a safety knife and the emergency scissors and put them in their proper drawer. The methodical work finally allowed him to gain control of his cock. Marguerite, his housekeeper, would clean the dried sweat from the mat, but Monroe took the time to move the custom-wheeled lights back into their corner.
He looked around. The call of the rope lingered. With the sad knowledge that he would not be back for some time, he turned off the overhead lights and followed the same path Zachery took ten minutes before.
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