| Author: | Jason Pinaster | ISBN: | 9781370978984 |
| Publisher: | Jason Pinaster | Publication: | July 17, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | Jason Pinaster |
| ISBN: | 9781370978984 |
| Publisher: | Jason Pinaster |
| Publication: | July 17, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
Lee gets a lesson in a new level of bondage play. “BDSM isn’t whips or tools or bindings. It’s a state of mind,” her lover tells her.
“The ‘B’ is for bondage,” she reminds him. “By definition that includes bindings.”
He shakes his head. “The hands and ankles of slaves picking cotton in the field weren’t bound. But there’s no dispute they were in bondage.”
“But—”
“No buts. You are hereby in bondage. And your first task will be to go into your room, clean your face and dress in something nice.” It was early early morning and she looks it.
She returns to the living room, her face made up and wearing a pink poly/cotton/spandex top above a cotton skirt. He smiles at her outfit, goes into the kitchen and returns carrying two dinner plates, tea cups in the middle of each.
“Hold your arms out,” he commands, motioning for her to hold her arms out to the side at shoulder height. He places one plate on each palm. “Whatever happens, don’t drop them,” he admonishes.
His remonstrance were unnecessary. They’re her only clean plates. He takes a blindfold from his pocket and fits it over her head. Everything turns black as he makes the final adjustments.
She feels him leave and return. He holds something beneath her nose. Fresh roast coffee!
“May I?” she pleads.
He holds a straw to her lips and she sucks the warm liquid into her throat, into her belly. She takes a deep breath, then another draw from the straw. Warmth fills her entire chest.
Then there’s gurgling and the plates get heavier. The bastard is filling the teacups with coffee! Now if she drops the plates, not only will they crack and break, but her carpet will be stained dark brown.
Fingers probe her ribs. Fingers moving, searching, circling around her breasts...
Lee gets a lesson in a new level of bondage play. “BDSM isn’t whips or tools or bindings. It’s a state of mind,” her lover tells her.
“The ‘B’ is for bondage,” she reminds him. “By definition that includes bindings.”
He shakes his head. “The hands and ankles of slaves picking cotton in the field weren’t bound. But there’s no dispute they were in bondage.”
“But—”
“No buts. You are hereby in bondage. And your first task will be to go into your room, clean your face and dress in something nice.” It was early early morning and she looks it.
She returns to the living room, her face made up and wearing a pink poly/cotton/spandex top above a cotton skirt. He smiles at her outfit, goes into the kitchen and returns carrying two dinner plates, tea cups in the middle of each.
“Hold your arms out,” he commands, motioning for her to hold her arms out to the side at shoulder height. He places one plate on each palm. “Whatever happens, don’t drop them,” he admonishes.
His remonstrance were unnecessary. They’re her only clean plates. He takes a blindfold from his pocket and fits it over her head. Everything turns black as he makes the final adjustments.
She feels him leave and return. He holds something beneath her nose. Fresh roast coffee!
“May I?” she pleads.
He holds a straw to her lips and she sucks the warm liquid into her throat, into her belly. She takes a deep breath, then another draw from the straw. Warmth fills her entire chest.
Then there’s gurgling and the plates get heavier. The bastard is filling the teacups with coffee! Now if she drops the plates, not only will they crack and break, but her carpet will be stained dark brown.
Fingers probe her ribs. Fingers moving, searching, circling around her breasts...
