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Best Bondage Erotica of the Year, Volume 2

Page 14

by Rachel Kramer Bussel


  Nikki circled the tree and pulled on the ropes from behind. I gasped. The rope dug into me, leaving lines of red, tender skin after she’d let go. I felt so exposed as my bare breasts pushed through the rope.

  “Now it’s time for your legs,” she said. “Spread them.” Her tone sharpened as she moved to my front side again, and she slapped my inner thigh.

  I did as she ordered but my stomach twisted. “Um, Nikki?”

  “You have a safeword. You sent it as part of the negotiation. What is it?” She kneeled before me and pulled the strangest spreader bar I’d ever seen from the bag. She kept working as she awaited my answer.

  “I don’t want to say it or you’ll stop,” I said.

  “So you don’t want me to stop, then,” she said as her hands worked the rope tighter around my ankles and through a loop on the spreader bar.

  “I mean, I know my safe is s.p.a.r.k.l.e,” I spelled it out so there would be no confusion about my use of the word in the moment, “but this isn’t about you stopping. I’ve just . . .” I hesitated.

  “Yes?”

  “When I said I liked exhibitionism, I meant the consensual kind. How are these workers going to consent?”

  Nikki stood and looked directly into my eyes. I pictured her pale blue and my chestnut brown eyes intertwining in that glance, creating some sort of meet cute for our souls. It was sappy and hot. My heart beat faster, skin warming under her steady gaze, and I suddenly felt like a goofy kid with a first crush.

  “Naked protests are a thing, little Jess. Anything I do to you,” she leaned into me again and reached for my clit, “will be done before the workers arrive.”

  “Oh.” I wanted to say more but as her finger circled my clit, sensation distracted me and all I could do was close my eyes and feel her.

  “I can’t just have you standing here naked, after all. That won’t distract the loggers long enough. They’ll just move to another area or cut the ropes. If I want them to stay here and ogle you, I’ve got to make sure you’re so wet and enticing—glowing with the aura of a girl that has just come her brains out—that they can’t help themselves. Are you up for that?”

  “Yes, please, Miss Nikki,” I squeaked.

  “Good little Jess,” she whispered into my ear as she pinched my clit.

  I let out a moan and yelp at the same time, as though my slut body couldn’t figure out what it wanted—pain or pleasure. Maybe both.

  Nikki kneeled again and finished tying my ankles. I tried to move but she had me tied much tighter to the trunk now. The bark was rough and dug into me, causing the perfect amount of discomfort. Just enough to make me wetter for her.

  I pulled against the ropes, eyes closed, and felt a strange kinship with the trees around me. They too were stuck. They could not run away from their fate. Yet they stood tall and proud, unafraid of what was about to happen. I pictured their wisdom pouring into me as I squirmed against the evergreen’s skin.

  Nikki had risen and stood before me again, but I only knew because I felt her breasts pressing into mine. Her bare breasts. I gasped and my hips swayed as much as they could under the restraints. My ass rubbed into the bark and it scraped into my flesh, causing me to moan again.

  “My, my,” Nikki said. “I’m not even making you come yet and you’re already enjoying yourself. Are you a dendrophile, little Jess?”

  “I have no idea what that is, Miss Nikki,” I replied slowly. The sensations were building like a fire inside me as I rubbed my ass against the bark harder.

  Nikki reached for my cunt.

  “A dendrophile loves trees. In a . . . sensual sort of way.” She rubbed my clit harder now and my eyes closed tighter.

  “I . . . what? I don’t know, I, it just . . . feels—” I couldn’t say anymore as Nikki pressed her lips to mine. Her plump, luscious lips.

  I pushed forward greedily, reaching for her, but she had all the control. Just far enough away to build my desire, yet close enough to let me taste her.

  “Please, Miss Nikki, come closer,” I pleaded.

  Nikki ignored my plea and lowered her head. Before I could ask what she was doing, I felt her lips sucking on my left nipple. My cunt rushed with moisture and I cried out as she bit down on my tender flesh. She worked her tongue in circles around my nipple at the same time as she shoved two fingers into my ready cunt. My inner muscles tried to tighten around her, pull her in deeper, and she bit down again on my nipple.

  I moaned and gasped. Pulled against the ropes. I wanted her . . . needed her.

  But I was helpless.

  Once again, I felt a kinship with those trees. Knowing what their fate would be, what was coming for them, but being helpless to do anything about it.

  Nikki pulled away from my nipple and ran her tongue down my stomach. Slowly, menacingly, down, down, down, until she reached my clit. She sucked in my wetness as she too was greedy with need. She circled her tongue over my clit as she shoved a third finger inside me, pushing deeper as she did so. I pulled against the ropes, trying to shove my cunt into her face, then pushed back into the bark for another scrape of delicious pain.

  She fucked me harder, so deep inside me that I felt myself stretching around her. Making room for whatever she wanted to do to me. The fire grew hotter, moving to other parts of my body until I felt about to burst. Nikki’s tongue circled faster—fingers fucking me harder and deeper—then the rush of release hit. I cried out so loudly that the singing birds were silenced with my wail of pain and pleasure. My inner muscles tightened without my control this time and Nikki responded by biting my clit.

  I cried out again, this time feeling a flood of wetness leave my orgasming cunt. I couldn’t slow the sensation had I wanted to. I craved her too badly. Wanted to wrap myself around every inch of her and suck her into me. All of which added to the rush of pleasure moving through my body.

  Nikki pulled her fingers from my moist cunt and stood. She pressed into me again and this time, crushed my lips with hers. I tasted myself on her, her flavors and mine mixing as she thrust her tongue deep into my mouth. This time, I was able to kiss her back with a force of my own. She seemed to like it as I felt her squirming against me.

  We kissed long and hard, until I felt Nikki’s hand between us. At first I thought she was reaching for me, but I quickly realized she’d slipped her hand into her own panties. I felt her fucking herself, just a thin layer of clothing between our bodies, and she kissed me harder—faster—as her own sensations seemed to build. Nikki moved her hand faster until she pulled back enough to cry out. Her body tensed and jerked against mine, her pleasure causing me to come again.

  I didn’t want her to stop, but I heard a low growl in the distance. At first, I thought it was an animal, but this noise was different, mechanical almost. As the sound grew louder, Nikki pulled away. Dazed from the experience, I could hardly meet her eyes.

  “Why?” I had to swallow and take a deep breath. “Why stop?”

  “Because the workers are almost here. Right on time.” She tapped her watch with her moist finger.

  “Oh, the mechanical animal,” I said, then closed my eyes again.

  Nikki laughed loudly. “What?”

  “I, oh never mind.” I laughed myself and forced my eyes open. “Now what?”

  “Now, I finish stripping as well and grab some rope so they think I too am tied to a tree. Then we will both be squirming and smelling of sweet sex as they approach. We only need to keep them distracted until Tamara gets here.” Nikki began pulling off her remaining clothing as she spoke.

  “I don’t know Tamara,” I said.

  “My friend from the courthouse,” she said like it were common knowledge. Then she backed into the tree to my left and loosely tossed some rope around herself. She really didn’t look tied down but I suspected folks would be too distracted by our projected desire that they wouldn’t notice.

  Several trucks pulled up, stopping about thirty feet in front of us; folks hopped out and began grabbing tools and chainsaws
. They were dressed warmly, covered with layers, and that was the first time I realized that it wasn’t that warm out. Nikki had kept me warm.

  The realization caused my body to respond and my nipples hardened again. Without conscious thought, I pressed back into the bark and let the memory of Nikki’s fingers and tongue take hold. One of the workers, a seemingly younger man, turned just in time to see my hips sway slightly.

  “Holy fuck!” he shouted, dropping his chainsaw. “Um . . . boss?”

  The young man turned back to the truck and an older man looked up. He had a rough unshaven face and looked a bit like Bradley Cooper. I felt a sudden pang of regret as he approached. But it wasn’t me he was focused on. The man walked straight to Nikki.

  He shook his head, but with his own sort of wicked smile. “I see.”

  Nikki grinned with meaning in her eyes, as though that were answer enough.

  “I see you found a new toy,” he said.

  Nikki laughed. “Yes, and hopefully I’ll bring her to a party sometime soon.”

  Clearly, they knew one another.

  The man shook his head, but with a mixture of annoyance and a deep, appreciative smile. He walked back to his truck and rallied the workers.

  “Looks like we’re at a standstill for a while. Kick back and relax for a bit,” the man said, then looked straight at me.

  “Nikki,” I spoke soft enough for only her to hear. “Who is that man?”

  “He owns the house I play at. They’ve got a pretty fancy dungeon. Sometimes I tie him up.” She met my eyes again and smiled wider.

  “I . . .” I wanted to speak, but suddenly this was all making sense. She knew the boss, knew he wouldn’t push past us, knew he’d be a good little boy and wait. He also likely knew what we’d been doing, even if the others hadn’t. Her plan was brilliant.

  I faced the man again. He was still smiling at me with all kinds of hidden meaning behind his eyes. The noises of the workers mixed with the returning chatter of birds, but I hardly absorbed any of it. My symphony was of a different sort. A realization that Nikki was a badass and I’d be her little activist anytime she asked me to.

  DARK DREAMS

  Posy Churchgate

  Gail gathered Roger’s things into a carrier bag, placing them with finality in the car to transport to a charity shop. The sadness she felt that their six-year affair was over mixed with surprise that his presence in her life occupied such a small space.

  Being the other woman, or mistress, created a very one-sided life. All her friends were settled by now, with husbands and families, or careers. Gail worked as a real estate agent. She enjoyed the job, but evenings and weekends dragged now without sexy secret liaisons with Roger filling her time. It wasn’t easy starting again at her age. Available guys around forty had baggage: failed marriages, workaholic attitudes, or commitment issues.

  In her new single state, Gail found comfort in reading. She’d discovered a wealth of erotica on the internet. She dabbled with social media, following authors whose work she’d enjoyed. She had several virtual friends.

  One friend was Charmaine Chastity, a blogger who penned lesbian erotica. Gail enjoyed Charmaine’s fiction. They DM-ed each other at the day’s end.

  Hey Gail, sipping a G&T.

  Hi, Charmaine. Nightmare day, need a drink!

  Babe!

  I ditched Roger’s things today …

  Good riddance.

  Don’t be like that. He was good to me.

  He was a fool.

  Thanks—that helps.

  Time to get back on the horse.

  I’m not bothered. Men are too much trouble.

  If you ever want to change teams …

  No, darling. I love you, but I’m straight!

  Do you follow Her Master’s Voice?

  No, does she write good stuff?

  It’s a guy writing BDSM

  I haven’t tried BDSM stories.

  Well, his have a dark appeal

  Thanks, I’ll check him out.

  Gail settled on the sofa, cozy in pajamas with eighties radio playing music from her youth. She was soon engrossed in a short story by HMV, the author Charmaine had recommended. She was surprised by how sexy she found what he described. Reading the story made her feel quite warm. She browsed his site for another.

  She found a storyline featuring a schoolgirl who misbehaved frequently to earn punishment from her stern headmaster. The disclaimer termed it fantasy-based with all participants over eighteen, so Gail’s imagination ran with the action. She lost herself in their power dynamic: a charismatic principal and a student who was alternately in awe and bratty.

  Her Master’s Voice wrote eloquently, stirring such passions that Gail continued to open each new episode of the adventure, aware her panties were becoming slick and her breasts heavy with lust. She’d never felt an interest in spanking and caning before, although she was proud of her own curvy rear. She grazed a hand over one nipple, feeling shocked when an intense bolt of sensation travelled to her core. Slipping fingers between the buttons of her pajama top, she fondled her breast, tweaking it so her pussy spasmed.

  Gail devoured the serialized story while stimulating the bud of her nipple. Her breathing sped up. An orgasm built steadily within as she read until she abandoned the plot of punishment by authority figures. Instead, she concentrated on pleasure, pinching and pulling each nipple, she thrust her hips until she came. A powerful nipplegasm suffused her, leaving her throbbing against her gusset.

  Returning to her senses Gail blinked with surprise at the intensity of her response. She left a glowing comment to the author. She stated how much she’d enjoyed the story, remarking that he’d converted her to D/s. That night, vivid and arousing dreams filled her sleep. Her pussy was wet when she awoke.

  Another busy day ensued. Gail was glad to get home and kick off her heels, after a light supper she opened her laptop.

  A DM was waiting from Charmaine.

  Darling, how was your day?

  Gail typed: Busy. Yours?

  Reviewed a fabulous latex corset.

  Was it comfortable?

  Hardly relevant—it’s for BDSM lovers!

  Speaking of BDSM, did you try Her Master’s Voice?

  Loved his writing!

  You got into it?

  Yes! In more ways than one!

  Tell me more!

  Modesty forbids.

  Enjoy!

  Gail browsed social media, but felt restless and unsatisfied, where previously she would’ve enjoyed reading short stories. Tonight the plots felt too tame. She had a strong urge to visit HMV’s blog to read more about bondage. She opened his next installment. It was as exciting as she remembered. When the tale came to its conclusion she selected another series. This one featured a Dominant called Sir who referred to his submissive as His Toy. Their adventures were thrilling, particularly as Gail found the submissive female a character to whom she could relate.

  Sir, a rich businessman, met up with His Toy in a city dungeon. Within its specialized facilities, he teased and punished her, training her to climax on command. This storyline was both exciting and alien to Gail. Her body responded powerfully to the various scenes.

  Gail’s earlier sex life had been vanilla, which didn’t mean it wasn’t fun. What became clear, as she devoured the stories, was that there were things she was curious to try. A submissive role-play was now top of her list. She also intended to purchase some sex toys to satisfy her needs and explore further.

  Stroking her fingers through the moisture gathered between her thighs she pictured intense eyes watching her. A shudder of desire coursed down her spine imagining his commanding voice: “Come for me.”

  In play obedience, she rubbed and pressed her moist folds until her body spun out of control and she came hard.

  That night, Gail’s dreams were full of the dark sexual encounters which had aroused her the previous night. She awoke heavy-li
mbed and throbbing, needing a cold blast under the shower to shake off her languid state. As she dressed for work that morning she fantasized about undressing for a Dom—her Dom—later. To play along she chose her outfit with care: a white blouse which could be unbuttoned and a dark pencil skirt to hug her curves and hobble her steps.

  Imagining that she had a stern master to please boosted her mood. Gail was decisive with clients, applying some extra pressure to those inclined to dither. After setting herself a list of objectives and tighter deadlines than usual by which to achieve them, she felt her day at the office had been productive. When she got home she remained in work attire, simply slipping off shoes in the hall.

  She cooked a meal before settling down with her laptop. Keen to continue reading about Sir’s toy training, she logged in, discovering a new message waiting. It was HMV replying to her comment.

  Good evening G@1L,

  Thank you for taking the time to leave feedback, your response was so positive.

  I’d be interested to know what you liked best about the story. Was it the punishment or handing over control to another? What was your response when the schoolgirl disobeyed her headmaster? Were you anxious or excited when she broke the rules?

  You say you’re new to BDSM. How did your parents or teachers punish you? I hope you don’t find my questions intrusive.

  HerMastersVoice

  Gail’s heart beat faster. She felt compelled to respond immediately. With tension pricking her fingers, she answered his questions honestly.

  Good evening HMV,

  I loved your story, in particular when the girl is instructed to bend over the desk and be ready for punishment. I like the submission. The power is hers to make it a short or long punishment, by complying or disobeying.

  I felt anxious when she disobeyed her headmaster’s instructions. I longed for her to be good. My parents never punished me for disobedience, but I was grounded for coming home late. One lover used to hold my hands above my head as we fucked, which felt exciting.

  Currently, I’m reading your series Tyrannical Toy Training.

  G@1L

  Having talked with HMV online, she imagined that he was watching her as she read more of his stories.

 

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