Best Bondage Erotica of the Year, Volume 2
Page 1
BEST
BONDAGE EROTICA
OF THE YEAR
VOLUME TWO
BEST
BONDAGE EROTICA
OF THE YEAR
VOLUME TWO
Edited by
RACHEL KRAMER BUSSEL
Copyright © 2021 by Rachel Kramer Bussel.
All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, television, or online reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States by Cleis Press, an imprint of Start Midnight, LLC, 221 River Street, 9th Floor, Hoboken, New Jersey 07030.
Printed in the United States.
Cover design: Jennifer Do
Cover photograph: Shutterstock
Text design: Frank Wiedemann
First Edition.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Trade paper ISBN: 978-1-62778-302-6
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62778-515-0
CONTENTS
Introduction: All Kinds of Kinky
Escape • VERONIQUE VERITAS
Hammered Gold • ROSALIND CHASE
Back in the Saddle • PAGE CHASE
The Lash of a Thousand Wolfords • TRYSTAN KENT
Day 730 • REBECCA E. BLANTON
Restorative Justice • ALEXA J. DAY
Leather-bound • ELNA HOLST
Table for Two • T.R. VERTEN
Headspace • EVAN MORA
Unicorn • JACQUELINE BROCKER
Ballad of Desire and Saccharine Melodies • SONJA E. DEWITT
Activist • SIENNA SAINT-CYR
Dark Dreams • POSY CHURCHGATE
Trade Show • D. FOSTALOVE
Chef’s Special • EMMA CHATON
Friend with Benefits • CHARLIE POWELL
The Weight of Command • ANNE STAGG
A Constructed Threesome • DR. J.
Plug In the Model • CÉLINE
About the Authors
About the Editor
INTRODUCTION: ALL KINDS OF KINKY
One of the things I love best about bondage as a practice and as a subject for erotica is how versatile it is. You can restrain someone with kinky items like handcuffs or bondage rope, elaborate bondage furniture, or household items. There are so many avenues to explore and the nineteen stories you’re about to read in Best Bondage Erotica of the Year, Volume 2 get kinky in all kinds of ways, with all kinds of pairings.
Bondage travels beyond the home in a few of these stories. In “Headspace” by Evan Mora, a workplace gets a kinky makeover of a kind when two lovers put a very adult spin on a certain holiday. A piano player discovers how submitting to the will of her teacher can unlock beautiful notes, and so much more. Whether these bondage scenes take place in bedrooms or more non-traditional venues, what they all have in common is how the players revel in losing one element of movement in favor of all the breathless pleasures that await them.
You’ll find everything here, from long-term D/s couples to a chef and sous chef engaging in an extremely spicy encounter. You’ll meet a leather library sex fantasy come true and a woman who gets to watch a bondage scene starring the man she’s fantasized about take place before her eyes. You’ll read about a stocking fetish and a sadistic but effective personal trainer. Bondage is also a way for lovers to connect and reconnect, to learn new things about each other as they play. Alexa J. Day serves up some “Restorative Justice” as an apology takes on a very heated meaning for Michael, and he loves every minute of it, telling the reader, “Bound, I feel stronger than ever, my muscles flexed hard in my shirtsleeves.” Discover how bondage and power are intimately intertwined in this racy story of a couple working out their issues and their kinks in mutually satisfying ways.
You may be used to hearing about bondage as an act for two people, but there are lots of trios here who explore the art of restraint in fun and creative ways. In “Table for Two” by T.R. Verten, John is forced to observe his lovers, straining for them as they flaunt their desire right before him. In “Unicorn” by Jacqueline Brocker, a man who’s restrained outside has a woman try to come to his rescue—only to discover that the last thing he wants is to be released from the control of the woman who’s watching him. And in “Trade Show” by D. Fostalove and “A Constructed Threesome” by Dr. J., the triple plays come with a few unexpected twists.
From the opening story about a very wild escape room with a woman and the two Dominants she answers to through the closing story, about an art model and the artist she lusts after, and with all the naughty tales in between, you’ll discover all sorts of erotic explorations. In “Escape,” Veronique Veritas writes, “He lingers on the rope encircling my waist and I know what’s coming next now, just not quite when.” This delicious tension of being made to wait, of wanting more while also wanting the person (or people) who hold the power over you to decide what happens next, is played out in all of the stories here. It’s part of the thrill of bondage, of submitting, of putting yourself in the hands of another person. I hope you enjoy the many thrills this book serves up as much as I did.
Rachel Kramer Bussel
Atlantic City, New Jersey
ESCAPE
Veronique Veritas
Although I’m lying down, I see a partial image of my two favorite players standing in the room. They’re appreciatively taking in the scarlet walls, blackout curtains, and my naked body bound skillfully to the table by them just moments earlier. It’s just us tonight, as I’ve closed my escape room parlor for a “staff training event.” As trendy as the rooms are, I’ve been making enough money to indulge in closing for a night of personal gain.
I catch the dim light shifting into different patterns on the woman’s tight black latex shirt and miniskirt. She sets the timer on the wall and numbers start to flash.
“I think we can beat the last record easily,” she says. Her partner immediately sets to puzzling out the first coded message on the other side of the room. It shouldn’t take them too long to put the pieces together, at least I hope. I’ve purposely made things easy for them ever since we talked in the beginning.
In the meantime, she walks over to me and traces her fingers across my shoulders. The room temperature is just below comfortable; my nipples already stand firm as she drifts her fingers lower to pinch them.
“I have a feeling you’re the key to getting out of here, aren’t you?” she whispers. She’s on the right track, I think, as I clench and feel the tiny round plastic ball with the key to the room deep inside me.
“One step at a time,” I say, teasing. She looks back at me again with that pouty look I love before turning to her partner. He holds a paper with the first puzzle on it.
“The first clue is ‘warm,’” I hear him announce.
“My turn!” she says, and takes up the next puzzle as he joins me.
As he stands above me in his black mesh shirt, I notice his gaze turn toward something on the other table next to me. Within seconds, he lifts a leather strap and traces it along the paths of the black bondage rope: beneath my breasts, crisscrossing my stomach, circling my hips. I bite my lip, ready to drift away into the sensations.
He snaps the leather in the air and brings me back to attention.
“Maybe we can make you talk,” he growls, reminding me of the characters we’d discussed.
“I’ll never give up my country’s secrets,” I spit back. “Not even if you use that thing on me all night.”
I try not to let the a
nticipation sparkle in my eyes as he brushes it purposefully across my legs, then snaps it higher up to just barely smack my pussy. It stings my skin and I moan, squeezing my hands into fists beneath my bound wrists. He places a smooth hand on my breasts as they rise and fall with my ragged breath.
“Our country won’t be forgiving if they find out you held us in a room like this. If you give us the location of the key, they’ll go easy on you. And maybe we will, too . . . ”
I try to strain myself away even though I can barely move. His mouth moves to my exposed neck and he licks me in one long, deliberate stroke, ending with a kiss on the edge of my chin. I shiver as I hear the woman’s high heels click across the floor again.
“She’s obviously not going to talk yet,” the woman declares. Her voice sounds like it might be lower, toward my legs. “The other clue is ‘wet,’ by the way. So what do you think that means?”
Warm and wet and right in front of you . . . I think, wanting so badly for them to get it. For me to get it . . .
“If you don’t talk, I’ll have to use your mouth for something else,” the man says, and from upside down, I see him strip his black pants and walk toward me again, his erection already stiff and uncompromising. The table I’m on is a sort of modified massage table, so he’s able to carefully lean down the top part where my head rests. He moves over my mouth and eases in the head of his cock; he knows to pulse more gently when he hears me gag at deeper depths. I sense he’s been careful to keep his legs in close reach of my fingers, so I can pinch him if things get too intense, as we agreed upon earlier. But I love the way he plunges into me, and I let my hand ease against the stainless steel of the table.
The woman unexpectedly strokes the tips of my hipbones with her hands as he fills my throat with his hard cock. I start from her unseen touch at first, but relax as she climbs onto the table, gives me a reassuring brush of her hand, and devours my pussy completely. Her tongue is relatively short, but she more than makes up for it by sucking me deep and licking my clit in firm, upward strokes. The small orb of her tongue piercing drags along the center, making me strain to meet her as I arch my hips as much as I can. The restraints around my ankles are slightly looser so I can prod her with my knee if I need her to stop, but as with the man, I feel completely enthralled by what she’s doing. I can’t hold back the sounds of my pleasure anymore as I come. They escape, slightly muffled by the man’s flesh.
After some time, his angle inside me shifts slightly as I feel him lean forward to meet her. I hear them leaning together to kiss, casting a conjoined shadow over me. I’m here as part of their experience, just like they’re giving me mine.
When he stands straighter again, he slips out of me with his own satiated cries before adjusting the top part of the table again so I once again lie flat. His come spatters my face and breasts, rolling into the hollow of the throat he’s just fucked. I barely have time to swallow what’s glistening on my lips when the woman climbs higher, eagerly lapping up everything I can’t reach.
“Warm . . . and wet,” she sighs, as she cleans the last of his come from my sensitive collarbone.
“Of course,” I whisper, my throat pleasantly chafed from the fullness of the recent guest. “But what else might it be?”
I see the realization spark in her eyes and she actually puts her hands to her mouth as she giggles.
“You are a naughty spy, aren’t you? We’ll just have to pull it out of you, right?”
She nods to where the man must be getting cleaned up and within moments, she’s repositioned herself beneath me, kneeling and leaning on one elbow as I hear the man walk behind her. Her face shows that he’s started eating her pussy now as she responds with higher pitched gasps and moans. While she writhes, she drives her fingers inside me and progressively explores deeper, taking her sweet time. Her breasts have nearly come out of the top of her latex shirt by now and I savor it all as she reaches the deep place inside me that holds the key. She leads it out by three fingers and, from the look on her face, orgasms again before the man eventually withdraws. Both of them sit back on the edge of the table near my legs. I can partially see the man using a cloth to wipe off the ball that holds the key.
“Well done,” I praise both of them, glancing at the blinking red timer on the wall as we all rest for the moment. “It looks like you’ve beat the record, so you get another session in the room next month like I promised. What do you think?”
They both smile in response.
“That sounds great,” the woman says. “What will it be next time?”
“If I tell you,” I say, in my best exaggerated spy voice, “I’ll have to kill you.”
“Maybe if you don’t tell us,” the man teases, “we won’t untie you.”
“Do I have to beg to be let go or something?”
The woman leans close to my ear and nips my lobe.
“What do you think, you double-crossing spy?” she whispers, and I can sense that we’re playing again, more seriously. My already drenched pussy becomes slightly wetter again in response as I look at the timer and see how much time we still have left in the room. Enough time for them to do anything they want to me again . . .
“I won’t beg for you,” I say, softer this time.
In response, the woman places the ball with the key into my mouth, making sure that the lines where it splits are parallel to my lips so it won’t pop open. I clench it firmly between my teeth, anticipating what they’ll do next. I savor the mystery of this, as I hear the man going over to the other table again while the woman brushes my taut jawline with her fingertips.
“You’ll beg,” she whispers, her face close to mine again. I strain away in mock defiance, determined to be an obstinate brat until I can’t resist any longer.
She draws away and both of them stay out of my limited line of sight. Nothing happens for a while and I’m a bit confused. They couldn’t have left without my knowing, could they? I think. But even though we all know the door isn’t really locked, it would still make enough of a noise that I’d hear it.
“When do you think the next thing is coming, spy?” the man says. “Is it torture to wait?”
Some relief comes to me as I realize they’re just tantalizing me further. I close my eyes and groan in response, remembering in acute detail all the other things I’ve okayed them to use on me from the other table. They keep me waiting for a few minutes longer until I really feel myself start to sweat. Then I sense one of them silently stand in reach of my hands again and the other kneeling on the table near my legs.
“Keep your eyes closed,” the woman instructs me.
I want to do it, so I comply and nod. I feel her stroke my hair approvingly.
“Now, beg,” the man demands.
I’m smoldering with want by now, but I keep acting the part while I still can. I shake my head.
He traces the lines of the ropes beneath my breasts again, then places a clamp on my left nipple.
“Now?”
I’m so glad they chose the clamps—one of my all-time favorites—that I give a soft moan of pleasure from my throat as I enjoy the clamp’s sharp bite and its gradual ebbing into duller pressure.
I usually put them on myself, so it’s a big step that one of them is doing it to me, but I wanted to try it and it makes me feel so hot to submit to them tonight. When he puts the clamp on my right nipple, though, the pain stays too sharp and doesn’t ebb. I give a more frantic cry and pinch the woman’s leg.
“Too hard!” she tells him, and he takes it off immediately.
After a moment, he tries again and this time, it’s in the right spot. When he asks me if it’s okay, I nod and things are fine again.
“And now do you want to beg, spy?”
I shake my head again and the rest of me starts to shiver as I feel him purposefully trace his finger from my breasts down the center of my stomach. He lingers on the rope encircling my waist and I know what’s coming next now, just not quite when. I almost beg then, not as
part of the role-play, but because I want what comes next so bad.
He waits another minute, teasing my labia with the softest touches that make me squirm. And then he gingerly finds my clit and, after rubbing over it with his large thumb, I feel the last clamp firmly embrace me.
I can’t stop myself from gasping even though I knew it was coming. My instinct is to bite down harder on the ball, wondering if I’ll leave scratches on the cheap plastic. But I feel one of them remove it from my mouth before both of them walk away from me again.
“You know the word that will release you,” the woman reminds me. “Unless you just want to beg for your freedom now.”
I know she means the safeword we chose before the session, and I’m grateful for the option. But I stay purposefully silent as I relish the sting of the clamps, the fire of their familiar hold on me, the pressure they impress on my body. The pain makes me feel transcendent, holy in a blasphemous way, taken away to another realm. I’m bound and clamped and at the compassionate mercy of my partners, and that thought alone gets me wet all over again as I imagine how helpless I must look. In about ten minutes, they come closer again.
I open my eyes as the man below me frees my clit. He looks me in the eye as he does it, and I let out a sharp cry before he lowers his mouth to my pussy. He drives his long, unpierced tongue inside me first, then back out around my lips, and finally to my waiting, throbbing clit. It feels completely different than with the woman, but still incredible as I greedily come again.
As he kneads my clit with his tongue, the woman takes off both of my nipple clamps at the same time. I whimper as she puts her lips to one nipple and strokes the other with her fingertips. Between the two of them at once again and the surreal raw scorch on my freshly unclamped areas, I continue to come and twist beneath my restraints.
I’m starting to get tired in the best way, and from the looks of it, they are too. Their attentions to me start to soften into completion. I relax into a final resting comfort while my body still sings with the memory of everything it’s enjoyed tonight. I know I’ll still feel the sensations on my nipples and clit tomorrow, my perfect secret that strangers would never guess.