The design of the tattoo is perfect thanks to Sabrina. She used a rope design to fashion the polyamory symbol—a pink rope for the heart and a blue rope for the infinity symbol. The ropes loop over and around each other so the heart and infinity symbol are intertwined. Sabrina shaded the ropes so they look three-dimensional and almost realistic. I have the same tattoo over my heart, while Blake has his on the inside of his right wrist. He said it showed his subservience to us because his wrists are often bound when we play.
Blake is wearing the corset Gabe bought him, along with a pair of frilly white knickers. He’s wearing a subtle amount of make-up, accentuating his eyes, cheekbones, and lips. I’ve arranged him so his left hand is holding Gabe’s, and his right hand is resting beside his head, showing off his tattoo. His knees are bent and angled towards the right, where I’ll be lying in just a moment.
Like Gabe, I’m wearing the same outfit I wore to the collaring ceremony, without the electric blue shirt to show off my tattoo. The black and red of the rope are more subtle on my black skin than on Gabe’s white skin and Blake’s tanned skin, but the tattoo stands out beautifully nonetheless.
Hamish and Archie’s collaring ceremony was wonderful, but it also proved to me that doing something similar wouldn’t be the right thing for us. Instead, we got our tattoos a few weeks after the collaring ceremony, one after the other, so Sabrina could do them all.
“You look amazing together,” I tell my lovers.
“We’re incomplete, Sir,” Blake says.
“Why’s that, princess?”
“Because you’re not with us,” He grins at me, his expression utterly endearing.
“He’s got a point,” Gabe says. “Are you ready?”
“Almost.” I make a couple of adjustments to the framing and focus and then climb down the stepladder, careful not to knock the camera or tripod. “Are you okay to take the shot?” I ask Ivy.
“Sure am.” She takes my place at the top of the stepladder and holds the remote shutter release.
The camera is already hooked up to flashguns, so everything is ready as soon as I’m in position. Blake lifts his knees so I can lie beside him, and then he rests them on my thigh. I put my right hand on my stomach, mirroring Gabe’s pose, and then my left hand on Blake’s.
“Look into the camera,” I instruct. “And smile.”
Ivy takes several photos, many of the same pose, but I also suggest slight changes of facial expression and even body positions. At one point, we each stack our hands over Blake’s stomach. For another shot, Gabe and I lie on our sides and stare at Blake adoringly, holding hands over him while he looks into the camera. For another, we pile over each other, forming a circle with our intertwined bodies.
When we’re done, we look at the raw photos on Ivy’s computer, choosing our favourites.
“I like all the ones where you can see our tattoos,” Gabe says.
“Me too, Daddy,” Blake agrees.
“We need to pick one,” I decide. “For our bedroom.”
“This one,” Gabe says, choosing the one where we’re all holding hands.
“Perfect. We’ll need it on canvas, like the shibari photo of Blake.”
“I’ll sort it out for you,” Ivy says. “Don’t you three have a party to go to?”
I loop my arms around Gabe’s and Blake’s shoulders. “Yes, we do.”
“I’ll lock up. Have fun,” Ivy says.
“See you on Monday.”
Gabe and I put our shirts on while Blake pulls a T-shirt and some jeans over his corset and knickers. Hand in hand, we walk from my studio towards the tube station so we can go to Hamish’s party.
“How do you feel about Venice in September?” I ask once we’re on a train.
“The three of us in one of the most romantic cities in the world?” Gabe says. “Sounds wonderful.”
“I don’t have a passport,” Blake reminds us.
“There’s plenty of time to apply for one, baby boy,” Gabe says. “Do you like the idea?”
“We’ll hold your hand on the plane if you’re worried,” I add.
Blake laughs. “It’s Mum who’s terrified of flying, not me. I hope.” He pulls us both closer to him so he’s squashed between us. “Going to Venice with you and Daddy sounds amazing.” He turns his wrist over and stares at his tattoo. “The first trip of many?”
“Hopefully,” Gabe says.
“Definitely,” I say. “From now on, it’ll always be the three of us. A Dom, a Daddy, and their boy.”
“That sounds like the start of a bad joke,” Gabe complains.
I shake my head. “No, it’s the start of a long and beautiful love story. Just you wait and see.”
* * *
