Sadly – particularly sadly, as it’s on a theme you might have noted is fairly close to my, er, heart – I’m not going to be attending Smut Restrained in the flesh. Still, I’m happy to join in the online version. If you are a fan of bondage, handcuffs, rope and all the rest of it, go and have a rummage. I do believe there are a few giveaways on offer as well. Recently, the Smut crew have been taking a much more, er, hands-on approach at their events, and though there is always going to be some variation, among erotica writers, as to how much practical experience we actually want to gain for our own enjoyment as well as for research purposes, a lot of fun can be had just by watching and listening. You don’t want to make silly mistakes in your work that will have your more knowledgeable readers sniggering over their Kindles, after all.
Anyway, here is a (slightly beta version) extract from a current WIP, which features a whole lot of rope action throughout the book. The working title is A Kind Of Hush and this scene takes place in a fetish club…
The guy was a lot bigger than the girl, but there was no question about who was in charge. She had him face-down on the mat and was lashing his arms together behind his back, sitting astride his thighs to do so. He was wriggling, as though he meant to buck her off but, when he lifted his head, Michael could see his exhilarated, goofy grin.
The woman, who had long black hair with streaks of electric blue either dyed or woven into it, was Japanese, or maybe Vietnamese; wearing a short-sleeved black PVC minidress and heavily-buckled boots. The man had buzz-cut light-brown hair and that very British pale-skinned, mildly hairy, chubby build. He appeared to be entirely naked.
Now the dominant rolled swiftly off her partner, snatched up another length of rope and tied his ankles together, wrapping the rope round his calves then drawing his feet up to be hitched to the ropes holding his arms in place. She was talking to him constantly: threats or reassurances? Michael didn’t know. He’d seen rope play before, of course, but it had always seemed rather slow-paced, complicated stuff that was presumably more fun for the participants than for anyone watching. This was different: fast and mean in a good way, and he suddenly hoped Shaz wouldn’t want to drag him away before this particular display was finished.
He glanced sideways at his Mistress, then turned his eyes back to the rope players. Shaz appeared to be as interested as he was; she hadn’t even turned to look at him since the action started.
The sub was elevated, after a very short while, suspended from the rings with his feet tied up behind him. His eyes were closed, his expression dreamy. His partner took a step back and gave him a little push, just enough to set him swaying. She bent over the bag that was leaning against one of the posts, withdrew what proved to be a pair of black latex gloves and put them on. Michael was momentarily bemused when she then took out a bottle of lube and applied it, vigorously, to both gloved hands. Shaz had moved a little closer to him; he was aware of her against his side, the warmth of her body against his, but she said nothing.
The domme had one hand behind her victim, and the movement of her arm suggested she must be fingering his arse if not slipping a digit or two inside; she wrapped her other hand around his erect cock and began to wank it.
‘Oh, no, mistress, please…’ he said: the music was deliberately subdued in the play area, so Michale could hear the words quite clearly. He could feel a tightness in his chest. His own cock was getting hard.
‘Please, mistress, don’t make me come in front of all these people.’
She was saying nothing, or at least nothing the audience could hear; she stretched up to kiss the man’s cheek and, possibly, to whisper in his ear. He was grimacing, and trying to wriggle in the ropes, but all his facial contortions were variations on a blissed-out smile: he clearly wanted to be forced to come while other people watched. Michael watched, waiting fof the moment, thinking of the times Shaz had made him display his submission and her ownership, and how much fun it had been.
The man in the ropes yelped, and a spray of white foam spurted out of his cock and over the gloved hand of his mistress. Michael felt a sharp, cruel tug on his scalp as Shaz took hold of his hair and pulled, deliciously and hard.
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