My wife, Janice, has no shame. That is the principle difference
between us. In almost everything we are alike. We both are sexual
dominants with our own submissives. We both like and we both
enjoy French singers over talent less American singers. We both pour
our creativity in sexual pursuits, me with my erotic writing and
she with her nude paintings of her male submissives.
As alike as we are, I prefer to keep my private life private
while Janice sees no reason to hide what she does. As a web designer,
she can afford that luxury. Clients expect their computer experts to
be weird and when they see Janice's handcuff motif bracelets and her
bullwhip ponytail holder, they are reassured to know she's a sexual
deviant and not someone who is going to steal their credit cards.
I on the other hand like to keep a low profile. My job involves
book reviews and the last thing I want my readers to know is that the
man who is flaming the latest offering from new York would rather be
enflaming some woman's ass instead. Readers have powerful
preconceptions, something I discovered the hard way last summer.
Last summer, Janice brought a friend over from work to help with
a new webpage she was making for a client. Tina had come over before,
and was used to the erotic paintings we had around the house. I liked
to watch her blush underneath her glasses when we notice her staring a
little long at one of Janice's more explicit works. Tina was one of
those pale redheads who were a smidge overweight, giving her already
pale skin a luminous glow. That glow would deepen into an embarrassed
pink when she blushed that would come close to matching the color of
her strawberry hair.
I sat in the living room, flipping through the bills when I
overheard Tina ask Janice a question about a disk.
"This one's marked 'Top Priority', is this the disk you're
looking for?"
"Nope," Janice said casually as she shuffled through more disks.
"That's just Richard's that I need to make update his website
with."
I froze. It's strange. I can rip apart a writer's book and
admonish a sub for forgetting a command, but I still get nervous when
someone finds out my hobby. Maybe it's why I'm just a reviewer and not
a professional writer.
"I didn't know he wrote too," Tina said.
"Sure, he writes all the time," Janice replied, still shuffling
through her files. "It's just that he keeps writing porn instead of
something commercial. He posts them to the newsgroups and on his
webpage for free. Richard gets lots of fanmail, so I know he's good.
He just won't write anything mainstream where he could get paid for
it."
"Here's the disk!" Janice sighed, and that was the end of the
conversation. They resumed work on the new page and I breathed a sigh
of relief. People act strange sometimes when they discover you write
erotic stories. One female friend warned me outright to never use her
in a even though we have never had any sort of sexual contact.
She just suspected that a writer would use her image or her name
without asking. Another friend wanted me to write sex about
him and his like I was pornographer for hire. I suspected that
people thought erotic writers were constantly casting real people for
their sex stories. They don't understand how close and far away from
the truth they were.
Later, at dinner, I reminded Janice how much I hate it when she
brought up my writing to strangers.
"I don't get it," Janice countered. "You write porn and you tie
willing women up. You like going to S&M parties but you're in the
closet over writing about it?"
"Writing is more personal," I tired to explain. "When I go to a
S&M party, I project who I am, and the women I have been with have seen
the real me. When I write, I experiment. I tell my in the
first person, but because in some I'm trying to prove a point,
the narrator isn't whom I am. If I write from the point of view of an
abusive, evil dominant, its to show how egotistical a dominant can be,
but I get fanmail the next day from strangers who think I was speaking
my mind. That's fine, if they can't understand truth from fiction,
that's their problem because I'll never meet them. When people that we
know personally can't understand that difference, then it causes
problems."
Janice shrugged. "If they can't understand that your are
fiction, then we don't need them as friends."
"Maybe I just don't want to find out the truth about the people I
know," I said.
"Well, we're going to find out about Tina," Janice laughed. "She
borrowed your disk."
I just looked at her. It was times like these that my was
lucky to be tall, and beautiful because it made it impossible to
stay mad at her. She can always placate me with a sinful smile.
"I believe that disk had all of your S&M stories," Janice said.
"Even those mean ones you told me to post under your other pseudonym."
I had to laugh. "I'm sorry, I hope Tina doesn't stop talking to
you. Those were kind of harsh."
Janice shrugged again. "I think she's always been curious. I
always catch her sneaking peeks at 'Whipped'."
My eyes flitted to Janice's best painting. It was a black and
white of her submissive from a few years ago. Brad was kneeling with
his hands behind his back. He had angelic wings sprouting from his
back but his head was bent down in total subservience. A whip was
coiled around his huge, hard cock. It was the closest Janice had ever
come to capturing the joy inherent in domination.
"So, maybe she just likes Brad's equipment," I laughed. Brad's
massive cock was the only reason Janice kept him around for three
months instead of discarding his whining personality within a week.
Janice had defended herself by saying that every domme should have a
well-hung submissive just once, so they could appreciate how little
size matters in a happy submissive relationship.
Janice smiled sinfully and I felt myself stir. "I'll bet you a
good spanking that Tina is more interested in the lifestyle than Brad's
anatomy. Before the week is out, she'll send you a fanmail."
I raised my glass for the toast. "It's a bet."
Tina ended up surprising us both. She never sent me a fanmail
but the next weekend, she came by the apartment to drop off some books.
I deliberately stayed in the study when she came over. If she was
avoiding me, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable because I really
was concerned about Janice losing a friend. Little did I know how far
Tina was going to surprise us- she asked Janice if I was busy because
she wanted to compliment me on my stories.
I was writing when she came in and to be honest, I was simply
stunned when I saw her at the door. After offering her a chair I sat
down to discover what every writer fears. I found out what she
thought.
"Your have been on my mind all week," Tina said, a little
flustered. "They're very good." She pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up
nervously.
I smiled. "Thank you," I said warmly. "I had such a wide range
of on that disk, I wasn't sure if you would like them all."
She blushed and her pale skin took on that glow I liked so
much. "There was quite a variety," she said hesitantly. "I didn't
understand how you could write something that made bondage look so
romantic in one story, and then cruel in the next."
My own hesitations melted away. It's an secret about
writers. We'll warm up to anyone who wants to discuss our stories.
I've exchanged e-mails with assholes that hated my stuff just to have
someone to get feedback from.
"Because bondage isn't a theme, or something that can be done
right," I said. "To me, bondage and submission is just an act that can
be done by many types of people. Sometimes it can be sweet and slow,
and other times, it can just be a means to get your rocks off."
Tina blushed again and shifted in her chair. She unconsciously
pulled at the hem of her skirt when she laughed. I think she was
surprised at how crude language can get with porn writers.
"I saw that," she said after a moment. "I've always thought
bondage was leather hoods and gothic chains. You made it sound like
fun."
I laughed again. "Fun is a goal of mine as a writer, but I hope
I also evoked deeper emotions."
Tina started to say something but stopped. She unfolded and
crossed her legs again, and my imagination flashed an image of how much
she may have enjoyed my stories. I could just her, sitting at
her computer, the text reflecting off her glasses as she unzipped her
pants . . .
I shook my head from the daydream. Tina had gathered the courage
to speak and as a fan, she had my full attention.
"I wanted to ask for something, and Janice already said it was
all right," Tina began.
This time, I resisted the smile. If Janice had said it was all
right, it could only be for something that she could brag about later.
Out of all the possibilities, I guessed at what it could have been and
listened.
"Would you mind writing a for me? I love the way you
write, and I've had an interest in this kind of stuff, but I've never
had the guts to try it."
I guessed right.
"And having me write it would be a way for you to try it by
proxy?" I asked.
She nodded. I shook my head and tried to think of how to explain
it. I've given this speech a dozen times in e-mail, but it was much
harder face-to-face. It was even harder when I noticed how green her
eyes were; their sparkle demanded a in their own right.
"When I first started writing, I used to do these kinds of
requests for fans," I began. "Fans were never happy with what I gave
them. They also had a complaint here or there, usually over something
I over embellished that wasn't important to them."
I could see her about to protest that she wouldn't complain but I
didn't let her speak. "But then I wrote a for a submissive of
mine."
Tina blushed again. It was just as beautiful as all of her
earlier blushes even though I was always annoyed by how other people
got embarrassed by how open my marriage was. To Janice and me, the
fact that we had sex with other people was nothing to be embarrassed
about.
Regaining my focus, I continued. "When I wrote a for
Angela, my sub, she called it perfect. I thought it was just flattery
until she explained why she loved it. She said I got everything right,
that I had told a about us, brought up things she hadn't noticed
before but they were there. That's when I realized the difference
between truth and fiction."
"You can only write the truth?" Tina asked.
I laughed. "Good grief, no. It's all fiction. The difference
is what the reader wants. The reader wants it to be personal. If the
character is someone they don't know, then they identify with the
character and fill in the blanks. If I say a woman is busty and
nothing else, then everyone from a skinny endowed woman to a chubby
woman with big can relate to the girl. The reader adds their
own fiction to mine."
"Where it gets tricky is where my fiction conflicts with my
readers," I said. "I get a request to do a bondage scene in a mall,
then I think the requester is an exhibitionist and I do a where a
submissive is exposed in a mall setting. Sadly, the reader thinks of
their alter-ego as someone who just wants to wear bondage under their
clothes and is upset to have themselves humiliated, even in fiction."
Tina frowned, making little dimples rise. "Then it's just a
matter of being specific in what I want."
"Not quite," I corrected. "I thought the same thing too, but
there's another secret about writers: we can only write about things we
truly want to write about. My mailbox is filled with requests from
websites to write to fit a certain mold, and I still can't do
it. It must be the dominant in me, but I have to be true to myself
when I write. I write like I like my sex, it has to be my way."
"Then how did you please you sub?" Tina asked. She leaned
forward and her stubborn desire appealed to me. This women wanted a
story from me, and she wasn't taking no for an answer but she stayed
respectful.
"Because I wrote a about my true interests, but using the
fictions that she wanted. As my submissive, I knew the fictions she
wanted better than she did. A is a meeting between writer and
reader, but a that features the reader is far more intimate."
I leaned back, knowing I forget all of the details of my argument
but I was satisfied that she understood. She pulled at the hem of her
dress in silence as she thought about what I said. It was never easy
to let a fan down over e-mail, it was far harder to do it in person.
As we sat in silence, my mind wondered over her body. I'd seen
her dozens of times before, but only as my wife's friend. With my
sexual tastes, I don't bother to fantasize about women that I think
aren't submissive but of course, I saw Tina differently now. Her extra
weight smoothed the angles of her body as well as blessing her with a
generous bust and round ass. She was one of those imperfect beauties
who would never grace a magazine cover but would be a welcome addition
to any man's bed.
Now it was I crossing my legs.
"Oh well, I had to ask," Tina said as she stood up.
"I'm very flattered," I said as I stood with her. "I just rather
save you the disappointment."
"I'm sorry you don't have the interest in me," Tina said, a touch
of sadness in her voice.
"I never said that," I said, as I looked her straight in the eye.
"I just don't know you well enough."
She said nothing, so I took a chance.
"Besides, you never know," I offered. "I could just be full of
shit and change my mind tomorrow and write you a long epic."
That made her smile, and she was still smiling when she rejoined
Janice.
~~~
"Do her," Janice said after we were done. My erection was fading
and still buried in her tight sex.
"You know the rules," I chided. "No talking about other lovers
during penetration."
She wiggled her hips and my cock pulled out of her, trailing a
mess down her leg.
"There, now please, do my friend," Janice asked again.
I laughed. "She never asked for that. She just wants a story."
"Bullshit," Janice said simply. "You told me what you told her
and not once did you mention her saying 'never mind, I didn't know sex
was required'. That wants try bondage, and after reading your
stories, she trusts you to intiate her."
I thought about it. "It would be weird," I said. "I've written
stories for my women who were my subs, I've never dominated a woman who
was a fan first."
Janice turned and rested her head on my chest. "Wow, I didn't
know you had performance anxiety. Afraid the truth won't measure up to
your fiction?"
I growled and then laughed. "Maybe."
"Ha!" Janice said triumphantly. "Now you're going to wonder."
She didn't know I was already wondering about Tina for far more
explicit reasons.
~~~
I decided to give Tina a starring role in her story. To begin
matters, I sent her an e-mail that I thought would get her attention.
In writing, we call this the hook, and if I couldn't hook her in, then
she didn't want me as her writer after all.
"Dear Tina,
I've changed my mind about writing about you. If you are
interested, please come by the apartment this Friday at 5pm sharp.
Don't wear any sort of underwear.
Richard"
It was pretty straight forward, but that's what a hook is all
about. She couldn't ask a dominant to write her a sex story, and not
expect a few commands. It also placed the plot in her hands. If
Janice was right, and Tina was just a woman begging to be bound, then
she had the power to tell me right now.
Three days passed by without an answer. In an e-mail that was
sent just after midnight, Tina gave me her response. It was just one
sentence and I had to admire her sense of pacing.
The sentence was simply "I'll be there."
~~~
At five o'clock, Tina arrived. She was wearing a black t-shirt
that concealed the mass if her but not the hard points of her
nipples. Tina was wearing jeans as well, which was an interesting
choice. If she wanted to discourage me sexually, she would have worn
sweats or if she was eager for me, she would have worn something a bit
more sophisticated. I applauded her neutral choice.
"Where's Janice?" Tina asked after I motioned for her to sit on
the couch.
I sat on the table beside the couch so I could face her. "Janice
is on a date with her sub, Marcus, tonight. Friday nights are always
play nights for us."
Tina took a deep breath. "Is this a play night for you?"
I ignored the question. "The first thing I need to do is a
simple test. While staying where you are, reach behind you and grab a
hold of the cord for the blinds with both hands."
She did as I asked. We had shortened the cords so that the cats
wouldn't play with them, so Tina had to to reach them. With
her arms fully extended, she wrapped the cord around her hands.
A thought occurred to me that it would make for a good
humiliation if a sub's hands were tied to the blinds and if she
resisted, she would open the blinds and allow the outside world to see
the wicked things occurring to her.
Oh well, that's another story.
"Now, here are the rules," I told Tina. "As long as you hold
onto that cord, I'm allowed to do whatever I wish. I will collect
research for the I want to write about you. If at any point you
feel uncomfortable or nervous, then you can let go of the cord and I'll
stop instantly. However, if you let go of the cord before I collect
enough research, then I am not obligated to write you anything.
Understand?"
She nodded. I was pleased to see she had no questions. Although
I wouldn't have minded answering questions to reassure her, I was
relieved to see her willing to jump in with both feet.
I stood up, and walked around the room. Tina watched me from
behind those sexy glasses, obviously eager for me to begin. She didn't
know that I had begun already. As I casually walked around the room, I
was testing her anxiety. Some submissives have quit this game after
only a minute, while others began talking nervously. This was a game
of willing bondage, and I wanted to make sure she was ready before we
really began having fun.
I turned off some lights and left only the short lamp by the
couch on. It cloaked the room in darkness except for her. Tina
watched as I opened a small decorative box on the table in front of
her. Her eyes widened as she saw the sexual toys inside; vibrators,
cuffs and various small floggers. She must have seen that box sitting
there for months, but she never suspected what treasures it kept. Now
she had plenty of time to look at it as I walked into the kitchen.
From the kitchen I could see her sitting on the couch but she
couldn't see me unless she stood up and turned. Luckily for her, she
didn't. I poured myself some water, and on a breath mint while
Tina sat in silence. Tina waited for me to return, and I waited for
her to crack.
After five minutes, I came back into the living room. Her face
was flushed from a blush that only deepened when I walked in. There
was no telling what thoughts she was thinking that could cause such a
blush, but maybe she'll tell me later. It was clear to me that she was
prepared for the next step.
Without saying a word, I sat down beside her on the couch. I ran
my hand over her straight hair, and was surprised by how smooth it
was. After stroking her for a minute, I brought my other hand to her
waist and reached for the bottom of her shirt. My hand slowly raised
her until I could slip my hand onto her stomach.
Tina hissed and she squirmed on the couch. She looked straight
ahead but I could see that glow return to her cheeks. I pinned
some of her hair behind her ear so that I could always watch her cheeks
while I played.
I had to use both hands to lift her black t-shirt around her
chest. Tina held her breath as I raised her past her smooth
stomach and over her generous breasts. Like I had commanded, she
neglected to wear a brassiere. Her were luminous, so pale with
only a slight pink around her nipples. I noted how hard her nipples
were, twin nubs of bright red.
I rolled her over her and just under her out
stretched arms. Tina released her breath and I watched in fascination
as her large shifted with her chest. Our eyes meet briefly
before she looked away in embarrassment. Her nipples betrayed her
excitement but she couldn't face the truth in my eyes just yet.
Since she still clutched the cord, I continued. Her left
was closest to me, so I cupped it in my hand first. The warmth
surprised me, as it was sweaty to my touch. I lifted her and
marveled at the weight. I couldn't believe she was self-conscious
about weight when she had this wonderful orb to offer.
My thumb ran over her nipple, and Tina shivered. Smiling, I
passed my thumb back over and felt another shiver ripple through her.
She in her stomach as her back arched when I stroked her nipple
a third time. Another pass with my thumb caused a deeper shiver and
this time, she looked directly in my eyes. She must have liked what
she saw because for the first time, she smiled.
I returned her smile and then dipped my head to take her right
nipple into my lips. Tina moaned as my warm mouth on her solid
tit. Her moan was low and very sensual, long and drawn out as my
tongue flicked her nipple between my teeth.
The taste of her sweat was delightful. When my tongue pressed
hard against her nipple, Tina would press into me, pushing her
into my mouth and her other against my neck. She jumped when my
teeth lightly grazed her but the shivers that followed made her
jiggle in my mouth.
I released her nipple from my lips and leaned back. This time
she meet my stare and I saw questions were poised on her lips. Maybe
she wanted to know how far this was going. Maybe she wanted to make a
witty comment. Maybe she just needed to declare her intentions. I
stopped her with a single finger on her lips.
"Since your bondage tonight is voluntary," I said, pointing to
the cord, "then let your silence be voluntary as well. Gags can be so
restrictive, and I want to hear more of your moans."
Tina nodded and I turned my attention to on her other
breast. My lips, tongue and teeth toyed with her until I found the
full range of her moans. They were all exquisite.
When my lips were tingling from the kissing, and her nipples were
red and swollen, I finally rose for air. Tina was breathing as hard as
I was and her face had flushed to an even deeper shade of red. Her
hands were gripping the cord so tightly; I could see the white of her
knuckles.
My hand went to her pants zipper, and she began to shake. I
dipped my head back down onto her nipple and with on her nipple
until she began to moan again. When her back arched again, I popped
the button of her pants. She didn't raise a word of protest as I
unzipped her pants, Tina could only moan.
I regrettably left her and moved to in front of her.
Tina's eyes were closed in anxiety, but she still held onto the cord.
She lifted her bottom up as I pulled her pants down over her waist,
over her tangle of pubic hair and down her smooth legs. Instead of
taking her pants completely off, I left them around her ankles. Pants
around her ankles were a more effective bondage than most cuffs.
I sat on the table opposite Tina, moving her legs to be between
mine. Her sex was bare and on display for my pleasure. Tina watched
me as she clenched the cord and silently obeyed as I pushed her knees
apart.
Her hair was such a dark red, and such a lovely tangle over her
sex. My fingers stroked her pubic hair, moving it this way and that to
look at the lips of her mound. Glistening with moisture, her clitoris
had emerged from its hood and I took care to avoid it with my fingers.
"In fiction, I find that women are most sensitive about what
their sexes are called," I began. "The wrong name can destroy a
woman's libido, while the right name can melt a woman."
My fingernail traced the line where her sex lips meet. "What
name do you prefer? Pussy?" I asked.
She moaned as my finger moved down her lips.
"Sex?" I asked as my fingernail traced up her lips. She moaned
again.
"Cunt?" I tried as my fingernail moved down, parting her sex
slightly. She moaned harder, but she shook her head in the negative.
"What about garden?" I asked as my finger moved up, penetrating
deeper. She gasped.
"Or what about delta?" I asked as slipped my wet finger from her
and stroked her clitoris.
"Yes!" she whispered, forgetting our agreement about silence.
"You like delta?" I asked. My finger left her clit and slipped
back into her sex, deep this time. "You like the way delta reminds you
of a river? Or perhaps the Nile, that mystic, life giving river?"
She nodded her head, her eyes clenched tight. At this point, I
could have called her Mickey Mouse, and she would have agreed.
It wasn't finding the truth that was so important, as much as getting
her to associate the word delta with the frustrated pleasure she was
feeling now. It was just more fiction.
I masturbated her freely now. In and out with my single finger,
I pumped her delta. Tina was so damn wet. Just beneath her breathing,
you could hear her lips pulling at my finger with the wet sound of
suction. Her hips moved with my finger and her stomach undulated with
a rhythm that would shame belly dancers.
"Not yet," I said as I pulled my finger clean. I brought my
finger to my lips and tasted her. Her green eyes stared at me as I
cleaned my finger.
Turning, I picked up two items from the box she had forgotten
about. I held up a long, blue vibrator in one hand. In my other
hand, I held a smaller, but studded vibrator. Her eyes widened and
her lips silently mouthed a curse word.
"Without saying a word, pick the one that I will use on you," I
told her.
Tina looked at me in denial. The blue one was so long, it was
inhuman. The one's studs covered it from hilt to tip, suggesting a
unique experience. I could see she wanted to discourage me, but my
face was passive. There was no discussion.
She nodded towards the blue one.
"Next time it will be the red," I said as I moved the blue one to
between her legs.
I laid the blue vibrator at the gates of her delta and carefully
rubbed the tip against her. When she relaxed enough to start moaning
again, I carefully pushed. Into her the vibrator went, opening her
inch by inch. I reached out and grabbed a handful of her breast. Tina
trembled and blushed but this time she held eye contact as I continued
to penetrate her.
Halfway into her sex, I could feel her clenching hard. It was
clear that her delta was at its limits. With a press of my thumb, I
turned the vibrator on.
"Oh God!" Tina cried out. She squirmed against the couch as her
sex shook from the vibrations. My hand tightened on her breast,
sinking my fingers into her pale globe. Her hips were bucking, trying
to fuck the vibrator she was impaled on.
Through the blinds, I saw a familiar set of headlights.
"Remember," I warned her. "If you release that cord, this is
over and I can tell you now, I don't have enough to write about yet."
I was lying. I had plenty, enough to write volumes about her,
but then, that was just another fiction.
The key slipped into the front door and Tina's flew as
she snapped her head around. In walked Janice, looking lovely in her
dance clothes. Marcus, her latest submissive, walked in behind her.
"Had fun dancing?" I asked from between Tina's spread thighs. My
fingers played with her clitoris.
"Enough to want to come back home," Janice teased. She
deliberately ignored Tina, but Marcus openly stared. Who wouldn't
stare at a busty woman with her bare and her sex pierced by a
vibrator?
"Have fun," I told Janice and they both went into the back
bedroom.
I looked at Janice, and just as I expected, her face found a
deeper shade of that I had never seen before. It was beautiful and
I told her so.
"I'm so proud of you for not freaking," I told her as I slid the
vibrator partially out. "I think I'm close to finishing my research,
but I need to hear you climax first. Is that all right with you?"
The blush was still there, but Tina nodded her head vigorously.
She was embarrassed, but she was also determined to see this through.
I liked to think she wanted to see how this fiction ended.
Now that I knew the length she could absorb from the vibrator, I
fucked her with the toy without fear. Deep into her delta I plunged
the blue phallus while my fingers stroked her clitoris. My knowledge
of her sex was evident as her hips kept rising to meet my thrusts,
begging without words for me to fuck her.
My blue eyes meet her green, and we watched each other as her sex
was manipulated. Tina pulled the cord with her hands and her feet kept
shifting between my legs. This voluntary bondage was maddening to her
and I knew that she longed to be securely bound. She wanted to writhe,
moan and pull at her bonds as her delta was opened from within.
I twisted the smooth blue vibrator in her sex and her eyes
clenched in pleasure. Her sex was so wet and smooth; it was too easy
to spin the vibrator within her. I could feel the walls of her sex
squeeze down on the toy, clamping down as she came closer to her
ultimate outcome.
"Do you want to climax?" I asked her.
Behind me, we could hear the loud crack of Janice's paddle.
Janice jumped at the sound, but she also moaned. The paddle cracked
again and again so I repeated my question.
"Do you want to climax?" I asked her.
She nodded.
"Then you may," I said as I pushed the vibrator deeper than she
had accepted before.
"Yes!" Tina cried out. Her buttocks lifted completely from the
couch, pushing her completely onto the vibrator. Briefly, I got a
glimpse of the impressive wet spot she was creating on the couch.
"Give me a good climax to use, Tina," I commanded.
"Okay," she moaned, perhaps not hearing me as her orgasm crashed
upon her body. Her eyes popped open and her lips formed a perfect 'O'
as shifting hips froze. I looked deep into those green eyes as she
gasped, once, twice and then groaned in pleasure.
She was perfectly still, only gasping and shivering as she
enjoyed her climax. I took note of that. Slowly I pulled the vibrator
from her delta, and laid it beside me on the table. We sat silently as
Janice continued to spank Marcus in the bedroom.
"You can let go of the cord now," I told her. "I can write your
story now."
Bless her submissive heart, Tina looked disappointed.
"Are you," she said with hesitation. She was still clutching the
cord. "Are you sure you don't want to enjoy yourself?"
I smiled and reached for her hands. Gently, I pried her sweaty
fingers from the cord and kissed her on each pink nipple.
"As a writer, I've learned the value of leaving something for the
next episode," I told her.
"There's going to be another part?" Tina asked. Her face was
glowing with a different light, this time from enjoyment.
"Well, as you know, it depends on feedback," I told her. "A
writer is always a sucker for appreciative letters from fans."
"What counts as appreciation?" Tina asked. I was amazed by how
much her body language had changed. Her fear was gone and she didn't
even seem to notice that the sounds of paddling were gone.
"Oh, try me, and I'll tell you if its enough," I said.
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