Each time you try to take control, or project your own will, it becomes clearer and ever more evident, Dante will not allow you dominion over your actions.
It seems you may have to confront and endure some incredible pleasure before he’ll ever concede to granting you command of your own body.
And while Dante restrains you with invisible strings, Minerva and Angelica have the luxury of free reign over their chosen men, commanding each man to do unto you as they would beg have these same men do unto them.
Dante, Minerva and Angelica now rise together and lead the way through to a blood-red, purple velvet Transylvanian bedroom. Inside there’s a king sized four-posted bed, crowned with a Gothic canopy.
Across the room stands another large, overstuffed, cracked leather couch, where the three devious demons now assume the same position as before; Dante sitting centered, voyeur and puppeteer, with Minerva and Angelica flanking his either side.
Your fingertips travel to your neck, discovering a leather collar buckled there. Robert turns to face you, the light in his eyes pouring into yours, filled with trust and strength. He clips a leash into your collar and prepares to lead the way.
Walking obediently behind him, your towering beauty casts majestic shadows as you move with grace, towering in your sexy heeled sandals.
Sexual mores and hungered appetites are growing with every sensual step, your eyes surveying the tight muscular smooth behind of Robert’s firm buttocks, their confident form sculpted in every stride.
And from behind, you sense Aragorn‘s footsteps, the truth in his eyes, as his gaze works its way down the sheer luscious length of you, falling away from the tops of your slender shoulders, following the cascade of your hair, all the way down over the curve of your behind, to the backs of your thighs, before disappearing down into those perfect high heels.
You pause at the edge of the bed awaiting further silent instructions. And there possessed, you crawl, seductive on your hands and knees, making your way across to the middle of the massive mattress.
Robert lets go of the leash, and from where, once positioned in the center, you lay on your back, your confidence blooming with feeling you are both the ruler and the ruled in this dream world fantasy.
Your passion piques, your sex pulsing, your magnificent nipples hardening, each bud tenderly and teasingly anticipating the aura of arousal to come.
Aragorn has brought with him your tiny discarded dress, and he very deliberately holds it up, a sacrificial offering, from where he begins to tear and shred it into thin strips, ripping it apart at the seams.
Taking the torn pieces, he hands a few of the fragments to Robert, before slowly they begin to circle either side of the head of the bed, your heart beating and thumping with excitement and anticipation.
The light in their eyes seems to melt inside you, feeling their approval and attention reaching you everywhere, from your beautiful feet, climbing your smooth lotion rich skin, running slowly up over your ankles, shins, knees, thighs, hips, waist, ribs, breasts.
Climbing over you collarbones, your shoulders, neck, chin, lips, all the way to meet with the seductive secret that no longer hides within your eyes, yet remains partly obscured by the shadows, cast by the delicate masquerade mask.
You turn your head from side to side wanting to gaze upon them both and overwhelmed with how your attention for one can only be sustained at the mercy of the other, where to say yes to one is to say no to the other, and god you cannot choose, you want both, you need both!
Each, grasping your hands, these two delicious men use the black fabric, ripped from your dress, to secure your wrists to each corner of the bed, and satisfied with your restraint they turn and proceed to the foot of the bed, their eyes never leaving you.