Bad Boy Dom (16 page)

Wade walked away and found a lone empty
seat. A rugged gentleman nodded at Krispin. He tightened his fingers around
mine and led me over. We took the two chairs beside the man. As if an unheard
bell sounded, the smokers and non-smokers made their way to their marked seats.

The man beside Krispin stood and walked
to the front of the room.

“My name is Barry Levins,” he said in a
loud, gruff voice, “and I’m an alcoholic. The purpose of AA is to stay sober
and help other alcoholics to achieve sobriety. This is an open meeting and some
of you have brought friends and family. They are here for support, but this is
not the venue for them to speak. I would like anyone new to stand and give a
short introduction. Please begin with ‘I am an alcoholic’ and also list any
other addictions you have.”

I was stunned. Krispin, with more money
than God, sat with these almost derelict people, part of their group, and
obviously in need of their support. I wanted to cover my face and cry.

New members began standing, making their
introductions. For most, their difficulty in facing their demon was obvious.
Krispin continued to hold my hand but his eyes followed around the room as he
watched each person give of themselves and take their first step. When the room
went quiet again, he released my hand and walked to the front. My heart cried
for his incredible courage.

The other man shook his hand and then
came to sit beside me.

“Hi, my name is Krispin Righteous and I
am an alcoholic and a drug addict. I have been sober and drug free for eighteen
months. On the worst day of my life, I physically hurt a woman. That was when I
reached rock bottom and decided to climb out of the pit. I am a better man but
I fight this disease daily.”

My eyes were riveted as I listened to
Krispin tell the story of his downfall. He made no excuses and told of none of
his inherent goodness. My tears dripped from my cheeks, landing on the front of
my shirt. I couldn’t even wipe them away, just sat in stunned silence with a
full heart. I wanted to bury his head against my chest and give comfort.
Comfort he wasn’t asking for. All he wanted was my love.

My mind whirled; Angela, the fucked-up
head case was needed in the worst way. And, I loved him with every particle of
my being. Loved that he was imperfect like me, that he faced his own demons,
but could overcome them to offer love and friendship.

He finally finished and sat back down,
drawing me against his side as another man took his place. Five people told
their stories. I shed tears for them all and I wasn’t the only one. There was
no clapping until afterwards when “sober coins” were issued. One by one, people
were called forward and applause filled the room in acknowledgment of the
obstacles these people had overcome.

At last, information was given about the
list of AA members available as sponsors willing and able to help new
attendees. Then everyone joined in for the Serenity Prayer. As the meeting
broke up, a few people approached Krispin, giving him pats on the back, shaking
his hand or —in the case of two women —hugging him. He introduced me and
finally turned to the man who held our seats.

“Barry, this is Angela, the woman I’ve
been telling you about.”

“Hi Angela, I’m glad you could attend
with Krispin.”

Wade made his way over to us. I had
completely forgotten about him. His soft smile reassured me that he was okay.
We finally made our way silently to the car.

Once inside Krispin didn’t speak, just
kept his same solid and comforting hold around my shoulders. I rested my head
against his chest and breathed in the smell of his body.

At the house, Wade dropped us off out
front and then drove the car away. We were alone.

Krispin walked me to the kitchen.

“Would you like some water or juice?”

“Water, please.”

I sat down and watched while he filled
my glass. Handing it over, he then began making his special concoction of
Mountain Dew and hot lemon.

“I can’t believe you drink that stuff.”

“Yeah, I know. It really tastes like
shit.”

I almost spit out my water. “Then why do
you drink it?”

“To remind myself that alcohol tastes
like shit too but I drank it anyway.”

“Is this part of the 12-steps?”

“You could say it’s my 13
^th
-step.”

“You’re weird.”

He walked over, and fit himself
perfectly between my legs. He leaned in, and his warm breath ran across my ear.
“And you love me.”

I pulled back so I could look into his
eyes. “And I love you.”

“I know.”

I could only smile but then I felt tears
begin to fall again. Strong arms picked me up and carried me to the other room
where I found myself sitting in Krispin’s lap.

“Shhh, Little Bird. Things will be
alright.” Soft kisses butterflied along my cheek and jaw.

“You are so strong,” I said on a hiccup.

“I wasn’t always, but you make me
stronger.”

“Thank you for taking me.”

“Now, do we get to take bets on which
one of us is fucked up more?”

“Is ‘us’ really a good idea?”

“’Us’ is the only idea. I need you. I’m
far from perfect, but I can be your strength if you’ll have me.”

“Sometimes my medication needs to be
adjusted and I don’t do as well as you’ve seen me do.”

“I’ll hold your hand when that happens.”

“I might not let you hold my hand.”

“But I’ll still be there. If I slipped
and went off the wagon, would you leave me?”

“Of course not.”

“That’s what love is, for better or
worse. We give each other strength in times of need.”

“I start cleaning everything when I’m in
a bad way. It would drive the sanest person crazy.”

“You forget, I’m weird. I’ll clean with
you.”

“Will you just play guitar and sing for
me while I do it?”

“Yes, I will.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” he said, as his nose touched
mine. And then his lips took over.

Chapter Twenty-five

Two months later…

Krispin…

Club El Diablo was turned into a
flower-filled chamber of love with all of our closest friends. I waited with
Matt and Stephon, my best men, as the carousel took a last turn and Damian
helped my bride, dressed in yards of white silk, step down from the shiny black
wooden horse. Lydia handed her a bouquet of flowers, but I couldn’t even tell
you what kind. My eyes were on Angela.

A minister spoke our vows, which we
wrote ourselves. We recited each one while looking into the other’s eyes. It
was sappy, completely over the top, and absolutely perfect.

I, Krispin Dougen Right, promise to
laugh and cry with you, share your dreams, show compassion, and understanding.
To remain faithful. To respect and cherish you always. To stay by your side
during sickness and health. To love you from this day forward for the rest of
my life.

I kissed my bride, thanked the minister,
and then released her hand. She walked away with Lydia while I accepted
congratulations from our friends. It took her fifteen minutes, with every second
being one too long. I removed my formal jacket and unbuttoned the top two
buttons of my white dress shirt.

Lydia walked back in first. When she
moved to the side, Angela stood wearing that shiny, sexolicious metal corset
that had made my cock stand at flagpole attention the first time I saw her
wearing it. It had the same effect today. The skimpy black leather skirt which
hugged her ass tightly left nothing to my imagination. Lydia moved in closer
beside me.

“Kneel, Little Bird.” Angela’s Domme
said with pride.

Angela pulled her eyes from mine and
looked to her Mistress, then kneeled. Lydia removed the collar from around her
neck.

“I set you free,” Lydia said, placing
the collar into Angela’s hands.

“Thank you.” Angela laid the collar
reverently on the floor in front of her. She would keep the collar from Lydia
for sentimental reasons, but she would be wearing a new collar now.

I had the new silver collar specially
made by the same designer who’d made the custom metal corset, and they matched
beautifully. I ordered it a month before and had insisted Angela wear whatever
wedding dress she desired, as long as I chose her collaring ceremony ensemble.

She smiled as my eyes went from her
silvery breasts to her eyes.

“You are free to choose to wear my
collar,” I said. “I offer it to you with the promise to always protect you,
find balance in mastering you, and treasure your submission every day of my
life.”

Her eyes never left mine. “Yes, Sir, I
accept your collar.”

My hands stayed rock steady while
aligning the links around her throat. Stepping forward, I pushed gently on her
head so I could fasten the clasp on the back of her neck. At last, she took my
offered hand and rose to stand facing me.

I clasped both her hands and placed them
behind her back, holding them tightly with one of mine. With my other, I took
her chin and held her still then slowly lowered my head to possess her lips.

She was mine and we belonged to each
other. The day before, I had helped her scrub the new and already immaculate
suite I had purchased at the hotel. We ended up making love on the floor of
soapy water after I tipped over the bucket. After, I sang to her while she
continued her OCD behavior. It kept her mind off our wedding. I’d learned with
her that nothing was ever too clean, including dirty sex, our favorite kind.

My world tour began in three months and
Angela would be there. She could also stay with Lydia and Damon if things got
too rough.

Pulling back, I released her mouth and
then looked around at my friends. The cheering began and so did my kinky
wedding night.

Dear Reader,

Thank you again for
reading another installment of Club El Diablo. Angela captivated my imagination
in One Dom at a Time and her “happily ever after” waited patiently for Krispin
Righteous, her imperfect Dom, to fill the pages.

I hope you liked
Matt and Stephon as much as I did because they are currently tantalizing my
dreams along with the sequel to Two Doms for Angel. It’s such a toss-up on who
gets the next story but I promise a threesome (or more).

I could never do
justice to
http://www.KinkSmith.com
and the incredible silverwork
they provide kinksters. Please visit their site and drool along with me. Tell
them Holly sent you and if you decide to order the corset, send me a picture so
I can salivate some more.

I researched AA
online and found myself amazed again and again over the incredible support they
provide. One blog post stood out and helped me write the “meeting” scene. Thank
you Michael and may your road to recovery be everlasting and filled with
blessings. And thank you Joanne for your amazing typo finding eyes, and the
added tweaks to the AA meeting.

I wrote this story
for “B” and your bad boy. I know he was never an alcoholic but really he’s just
too perfect, and I had to give him a weakness. I did include his mad guitar
skills though.

Join me on the
carousel at
http://clubeldiablo.blogspot.com
Twitter @clubeldiablo and
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or send me an email
[email protected]
 

Until next time
stay sane, safe, and consensual. Use protection and love deeply as if it’s your
last day on earth.

Holly

Club El Diablo

Book I: One Dom at a Time

Damian & Lydia

Damian Collins found
her in a seedy BDSM club administering a twelve foot bull whip with perfection.
Lydia was the most popular Domme in the state and he wanted her for his famous
El Diablo Club in Houston.
Damian is richer than dirt, sexier than sin, and
the last man Lydia wants. She was a Dominatrix, in control of her universe, and
no one knew her biggest secret; she craved to be mastered in the bedroom.
A bet. One she couldn't resist. The winner gets
the other as sub for one night. Is there only room for
One Dom at a Time
?

~