‘Tomorrow It Begins…’
Yes. I was going to talk about FSoG today. I was going to talk about the Joined Up Writing Podcast and DSBs special rant over the trilogy and the movie that releases tomorrow. But I’ve decided not to. I don’t need to. I don’t think I can give any more of my brain space to something that has consumed so much of the world already (if you really want to know, then listen to the podcast). So…
Remember last week’s goal list in which I talked about rounding up the Meeting Each Other series? Well I’ve finally managed to do that. It really didn’t take long to format what I needed for Smashwords, so I guess it’s time for a snippet of the sixth and last story in the series.
This is probably newest favourite in the series. Given that FSoG is out tomorrow, it’s worth mentioning that this is a BDSM story, but BDSM done right (as far as I’m concerned). I’m learning that what was once a ‘soft spot’ for kink is turning into a ma-huusive fascination and that there are more of these stories waiting to fall out of me.
After all, with my Deep Edits on ‘Second Base’ done, I’ve had my head in the BDSM pool (so to speak) for at least four weeks. More given that I was working on ‘Malcolm’ before that.
Now all that remains is to treat you to an excerpt and then you can go on your merry way. 🙂 Enjoy!
When Christina walked back into view, her breasts heaved. A gleam filled her eyes and a cute, pink flush washed across her neck and chest. She grinned, tucked the handle of the flogger into the side of her knickers and crossed her arms. ‘That’s a warm up. We’re going to have fun now. Remember; ‘banana’ and ‘almond’.’
‘Why those words?’
She shrugged. ‘How likely are you to use them in conversation tonight?’
‘So when I hear them, I know you mean it. Clear?’
Licking his dry lips he watched Christina walk out of sight once more.
He made fists, forcing his body to relax against the soft padding all around him. That done, he closed his eyes, letting himself drift on the sounds around him. He sought the subtle swish meaning Christina had pulled back her arm for another swing.
The first blow still caught him off guard.
More a stroke than a real impact. A gentle brushing of fluffy strands over his shoulders and across the top of his back. Without leaving his skin, the tails slithered over his spine and passed his tail bone, gliding over his boxers and then his thighs and calves.
A shudder rippled through his body, following the path of the flogger.
‘That’s nice,’ he whispered.
A sound that might have been a smirk came from his near his left ear. ‘Good.’
The flogger came down again, across the backs of his thighs this time and Malcolm twitched against the frame.
The strikes continued in this fashion for a few minutes, light, teasing brushes, touches with long gaps in between that left his skin tingling in the cool air.
Then, just as he began to fall into the rhythm of it, the tails cracked down against his right shoulder, a stinging blow that made his eyes fly open. Before he could make a note of it, a matching impact cracked against his left shoulder. Then the right. Left again.
He moaned, twisting his wrists in the restraints as the strikes continued.
Not hard . . . they were no more than ‘fours’ on his self-generated scale, but they came so fast. With no recovery gap in between, the sensitivity climbed steadily.
Within six more strikes what was once a ‘four’ felt more like a ‘seven’ and he toyed with the idea of calling ‘almond.’
Before he could speak the flogger began to travel again. Down his body, teasing the skin all over his back with quick-fire strikes.
Malcolm allowed his forehead to rest on the padded slab before him. With his fists clenched, he gritted his teeth and tried to understand what he felt. Not pain exactly, though that was certainly part of it, but a curious blend of that mixed with something else he couldn’t pin point.
From the corner of his eye he saw the woman in the swing finally sit up. She kissed one of the three men clustered about her and hopped down. Though the men stayed close she paid no attention to them. Instead her gaze fixed on Malcolm. She smiled.
A particularly solid strike against his rear made him yelp like a spanked child. He jerked against the restraints, but could do no more than twist from side to side.
‘How you doing, Malcolm?’ Christina’s voice seemed to come from miles away, edged with laughter.
And, strange though it was, he knew it was true. The heat began to spread through his body and the air, once cold, now formed a welcome respite to the heat in his skin. The impacts against his backside increased, even through the barrier of his boxers. Soon the gentle warmth became a burn.
‘Fuck,’ he whispered.
Then it stopped. All of it.
Hope you enjoyed that, guys. ^_^ If you want it, well you know what to do by now.