Amiyah’s tears slipped down her cheeks as I stood before her. “You taught me what it means to feel safe,” she whispered. “To be seen, completely.”
My hand trembled as I fastened the gold necklace around her neck, letting my fingers linger against her skin. “And you taught me what it means to be soft without fear.”
Then I turned to James. He looked up at me, his expression a mixture of strength and vulnerability that nearly broke me open.
“You’ve held us steady,” I told him quietly. “You’ve been the calm when everything else has been chaos, you’ve shown me that with the right person, surrender is not defeat, it’s love unbridled.”
He swallowed hard. “You make me believe in peace,” he said.
I smiled through the tears that had started to gather in my eyes and fastened the second necklace around his neck, my fingertips brushing the back of his jaw.
When I stepped back, the two of them kneeling before me in perfect stillness, gold sparkling faintly against their skin, candlelight painting them in warmth.
“This moment,” I whispered, “is our promise, to walk together as equals, to love without fear, and to never let the world tell us that what we have isn’t real. We are bound, not by rules, but by choice, by faith, by love.”
Amiyah reached for James' hand, and he took it, their fingers threading together. The sight of them like that, joined and radiant in their submission, made my chest ache in the best way.
Finally, I sank to my knees between them, shock evident on their faces, pressing my hands over their joined ones. The three of us breathed in unison, the air thick with warmth and devotion.
“Your obedience and devotion are not accepted in ego or vain. I promise to love you both and always move with your best interest at heart, so much so that I want to give you this,” I said, handing them both an envelope.
When they opened them and started reading the contents, I saw their eyes well up with tears. Outside, the ocean kept time, each wave a quiet benediction.
“Calla, baby, I can’t accept this,” James said, choked up.
“Baby,” Amiyah said softly, “He’s right, we aren’t here for your possessions, only your love, we don’t need this.”
I’d taken the two-million-dollar insurance policy payout from my father’s death and split it amongst James and Amiyah. I’d also made them executors of my estate and my beneficiaries in the event of anything happening to me. We may not have a marriage license, but I made sure things were in place legally so that they, nor our child, ever have to want for anything.
“This is not about you wanting anything; it’s about taking care of you both the way I vowed to. We may not be legally bound by marriage, but now there are legal measures in place like we are, and the three of you will NEVER want for anything.”
By this time, Amiyah was full-blown crying. James’ face was overcome with emotion. I kissed James like I couldn’t wait to take him hard and deep tonight before turning to kiss Amiyah in a way that said I would fulfill every fantasy she had, and here in this dimly lit moment, we sealed what we already knew. We belonged to one another, not through claim or command, but through love freely chosen.
It was beautiful, it was holy, it was ours.
“The night’s not over, my loves. Go undress and I want you facing the wall, hands over your head against it, legs spread, and please don’t keep me waiting, if I make it back here before you, the punishment will be abundant,” I whispered as their lust-laden eyes looked into mine, seeing The Black Dahlia was here and ready to play.
“Yes, Mistress,” they moaned in unison as James helped Amiyah up and they headed to the back.
The moment Calla’s voice slipped into that commanding lilt, I felt my spine straighten like a marionette being tugged with invisible strings. There she was, The Black Dahlia, our Mistress, eyes dark with desire.
I helped Amiyah to her feet, my palm lingering against the curve of her back as we moved in unison down the hallway. We didn’t speak, didn’t dare. The air itself buzzed with her command, her promise of punishment, of pleasure, of the line between the two dissolving until we didn’t know where one ended and the other began.
We undressed quickly, efficiently, standing shoulder to shoulder like soldiers awaiting our reckoning. Then we turned to face the wall, hands up, legs apart, bare and obedient.
When the sharp click of her Louboutins echoed down the hallway, I almost lost my footing.
She took her time approaching, her steps measured, deliberate. The scent of her arousal was something dark and intoxicating, wrapping around me like a noose and a lifeline all at once.
“Look at you,” she purred, her voice silk over steel. “My beautiful sinners, my obedient toys.”
She circled behind me, fingers trailing down the ridge of my spine as a shudder surged throughme, not from fear, but anticipation, and need.
I wanted the pain, I craved the humiliation, and I ached to feel her power sear itself into my skin like scripture.
And Amiyah? God. Her breathing was already ragged. She was shaking next to me, not from nerves, but from the wild want of watching Calla take complete control. This was what she’d whispered about in the dark, what she’d begged for with her eyes and her trembling lips, to see The Black Dahlia break me open.
Calla made sure we both saw her as she slipped into her leather harness, the dark gleam of it hugging every curve of her power. She looked like sin made flesh. The twinkle of the gold hardware at her hips promised redemption through ruin.
