Friday, November 15, 2013

I Need This, Sir - Part Two

Brought to You By
Week Two Excerpt - Part Two
Read Part One Here
Welcome back to the wonderful world of NaNoWriMo, where I try to write a novel in a month. Just like last year, here's an excerpt from what I've done for Week Two of this literary adventure. As always, please enjoy.

She liked to think that, if she listened hard enough, she could tell which toy he touched as he laid out his tools on the nearby table. The soft whisper of a willowy flogger. The hard clink of a lollipop crop against the table’s hard surface. The tinkling clatter of a beaded multi-tailed whip. The cutting swish of a cane. Yes, after years of play with each other, Pip knew his toys well. Knew each one by touch and sight and—almost—by sound. 

 “Hmm,” she heard him muse as he walked about her, the slap of leather against the flesh of his palm making her heart race. “I think to do this right, I need some help.”


“What do you think, Cora?” he asked as another set of footsteps—booted and heavy this time—began to surround her.

“I think we can definitely do something here,” Pip heard her friend and rope top say as she trailed a fingernail along her forearm, her touch and voice leaving a sharp burn that made Pip shiver. “Would you like that?” Cora asked as she wrapped her fingers around Pip’s wrist.

Dear God, yes. Pip nodded. “Do you even need to ask?” They had known each other long enough and played with each other often enough to know what the other liked and to always be up for what they had to offer.

Pip heard Cora’s tickling laugh—sprite-like, beautiful with just a touch of evil intent—right before she felt the rub of rope being wound around her wrist. She felt its twisted length weave and wound around the bamboo bars, over her arms and elbows, securing her tight to the frame. Instinctively, Pip pulled against the ties, feeling them pull taut and unyielding as they bit into her skin. She heard Cora laugh again. “Should I be mean?” the devious top asked, her breath hot and sweet against Pip’s face.

“Oh,” Hayato murmured, “I think so.”

Pip’s breath caught as she felt Cora grab her left foot, lifting it to rest on one of the knee-high bars, hooking her heel around the bamboo. “Oh God, really?” she asked on a laugh, while shaking her head. Cora really loved to keep her bottoms off-balanced, loved to be the one to literally alter a partner’s world.

“Oh, yeah,” she heard Cora answer, slapping her calf playfully. “Really.” 

Pip’s hands reflexively tightened on the bar as she lifted herself slightly and tried to right her altered equilibrium. She felt Cora loop rope around her ankle, tying it in place so her left thigh was completely exposed. 

“There,” Cora said, giving Pip’s thigh a friendly pat. “I think that should do it.”

“Mmm,” Hayato commented. “Yes, thank you, Cora; that’s perfect. Isn’t it, Pip?”

“Perfect?” Pip answered on a laugh, hopping a bit on her right foot, trying to find her balance on the floor beneath her. “I think you and I have different definitions for that word,” she said, her tone somewhere between sweet sincerity and sharp sarcasm.

Well, if their goal was to make her forget everything, they were succeeding. It was hard to care about work or life worries when the very ground beneath her seemed uncertain. When the way she would move and hold herself was no longer hers to control. When her body felt like someone else’s plaything.

“Yes,” she heard Hayato coo, “I suppose we do.” He slapped the leather toy—his paddle, perhaps—against his palm again. She jumped at the sound, anticipating that thick, heavy toy. 

She almost smiled as she felt him run—caress—the large, blocky, leather-covered paddle along her shoulders, her spine, over her ass and thighs. She laughed. She couldn’t help it.

“Is there something funny?” he asked as he tipped her head toward him with the paddle’s leather-blunted, but still sharply stinging edge.

She breathed in the scent of wood and leather and smiled. “I just should have known you’d go for the paddle,” she said. If he wanted to get her attention, that was a good toy to start with.

“Why’s that?” he wondered as he grasped the bar, his pinky and forefinger wrapping around her fist. “Been bad,” he asked, tilting her chin up with the toy as he closed her in, “have you?”

Thoughts of Tracy Meyers crept into Pip’s head. She saw that girl’s sweet face looking out at her from the newspaper print. Pip remembered reading the shame of her parents who’d had to find the body of their daughter tangled in ropes with a badly made gag choking her. She recalled the part about how the cops had said her boyfriend, Kevin Leman, hadn’t known that could happen, when he’d left her. He’d just thought it was part of the game.

And, sure enough—just as Wendy had said—Tracy was one of Pip’s listeners. One of her readers. She’d been a fan of Infommunity for a long time and had been one of the first to subscribe when Pip joined the site. Only to die six month’s later from an accident The Deviant Nerd was made to prevent.

“Pip?” she heard Hayato say.

Pip had always thought that she and her podcast could make a difference. Open people’s eyes. Keep people safe. Demystify the fantasy by bringing it into reality.

“Are you okay?”

Did she? Or was she just part of a culture that sensationalized risk and danger, sexing it up and wrapping it up in a pretty, salacious package? Did she really keep people safe? Or did she—and everything she’d worked for over the years—just give people a false sense of security? Did she give people the freedom and knowledge to go after what they wanted, to explore the depths of their desires? Or did she just dangle enough titillating information for people to hang themselves with?

Pip felt Hayato’s hand cup her chin. “Pip,” he said, his voice insistent, “answer me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Pip said, shaking her head out of his grip. “Sorry,” she said. “Just,” she took a deep breath and chuckled half-heartedly, “blanked for a second.”

“Do you want to stop?” he asked quietly but firmly, his hands reaching for the rope.

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her wrist from his hands as much as she could. “No.” She needed this. For a moment, it’d been working. Had kept those thoughts at bay. It may be weak and cowardly—running away from the reckoning she felt just on the horizon—but she need it. “I want to keep going.”

She felt him step back. Felt his hesitation as he studied her for a long, silent moment.

“I’m okay,” she assured him, stiffening her shoulders and centering her weight over her right foot. “I’m ready.”

“I think I have just the thing,” she heard a female voice, sure with just a bit of sass. 


Pip smiled as she felt hands reach through the bars in front of her face to slide earbuds into her ears. “It’s my personal play playlist, if you know what I mean.”

She heard Hayato chuckle. “I can always count on you to know just what to do,” she heard him say just before all sound got drowned out into hard, thumping dance music. 

She felt the earbuds’ cords stretch out in front of her. Max must be standing on the other side of the frame. Pip wondered if she ought to feel like Max were intruding on her scene. But she didn’t. It didn’t feel intrusive. 

Max was a friend. If anything, she was adding to the scene. Pip listened to the song playing in her ears as it pounded wildly in another language—Spanish or maybe Italian. Pip let herself get lost in the sound of the notes and the romantic flow of the words. She let her mind slip away from everything. From the frame. From the ropes. From the scene. From Donovan’s. From the world itself.

A slap smacked her in the ass, making her jump. Her eyes shot open beneath the blindfold and her heart stopped for a moment only to thunder in her chest. She heaved, her breaths short and shallow as she furiously sucked in her breath, feeling the slap’s burn along her skin.


The thought was pleading and demanding all at once.

And, as if by command, the paddle struck again on her other cheek. She felt its strike reverberate through her, like an electric echo racing through her body. The strikes came. Over and over. On her ass and thighs. It pounded with the same intensity as the music. Filling her up, leaving no room for anything else.

Her body tensed as that pound turned—without warning or even much pause—into a slashing sting as the beaded multi-tailed whip streaked over her shoulders. Her body literally shook with the sensation. Like fire that cut across skin. 

It should have hurt. 

Kind of did. 

But, more than that, it just made her feel alive. Like every sense was in overload. She felt that sting throb just beneath her skin in time to the music raging in her ears. Her mind burst into colors and light behind the blindfold as each lash of the whip connected and messed with the chemicals—adrenaline and endorphins—in her brain. 

Her body arched into the whip’s harsh touch, begging for it even as her knees began to buckle beneath her, leaving her unsteady. She tried to lock her knees—at least the right one—firming her stance and gripping the frame more surely, but her whole body was shaking, shuddering with the sensations roiling inside her.

Pip was riding an edge, she could feel it—almost like an orgasm—building inside her, pushing her toward a peak.

And then, with a slicing cut of Hayato’s cane across her ass, she just let go, crying out—the sound silent to her own ears though it tore through her throat. He struck again as her body slackened against the frame, the hit  cutting just below the curve of her ass. 

Her sweet spot.

He hit her there. Once. Twice. Three times. Before she finally felt herself fall over that edge. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice a hoarse rasp that clawed its way free. “Okay.”

She heaved as she hung on the frame. Her body limp, content to let the bamboo hold her up. Pip smiled as she heard the music player—still in Max’s hands—shift from the pumping rhythms to a more soothing song. Operatic. And almost ecclesiastic. The sound embraced her and urged her body to relax. Pip smiled.

Max really did always know just what need to be done.

Pip felt hands at her ankle and her wrist, carefully unweaving knots. Her hands still clung to the bars, even as the ropes were removed. Clinging to the bamboo’s strength, willing it be hers for just a moment longer.

She felt the earbuds being removed from her ears, even as she heard Hayato whisper as the sounds of the room flooded back to her, “Close your eyes, Pip.”

She did as she felt him take off the blindfold. She squinted against the light that filtered in behind her lids. She blinked quickly, forcing her eyes to readjust.

She felt hands rest over her waist as she felt the silk of Hayato’s suit brush against her sensitive skin. She shivered. His arms wrapped around her middle, cuddling her close. “Time to let go, Pip.”

So she did. Letting herself rest safe in his arms.

Please check out my story in this hand-held library of erotica & explore to your libido's content!

Please check out my story and get ready for some fit-on-the-streets-but-fun-in-the-sheets, pervertable play this PRIDE!

Check out my story “Pervertable” to see how sexy food shopping can be in this gleefully, greedily gluttonous anthology from Sexy Little Pages.
Available Now On

Please check out my novel Show Me, Sir from Sinful Press that celebrates feminist kink!

Please check out my story in The New Smut Project's anthology and see how consent makes everything sexier!
Please check out my story in Coming Together's charity anthology that lets your feel-good do some real good!

See what happens after Kat & Peter's happy ending in my story from Deep Desire Press!
And Listen to an Excerpt
Please check out my story in The Sexy Librarian's anthology that gives us a bold peek into lust and love from the male perspective!

Find even more great reads and Put Your Money Where Your Orgasm Is!

Also, find out how you can support me and collaborate with me on my Patreon Page!

No comments:

Post a Comment