Author's Note:
This is a work of fiction, and an exploration of fantasy. I hope you enjoy. Comments, critiques and stars are appreciated.
*
Emily raised an eyebrow, "Do you consider yourself Dominant, Richard?"
I nodded, "Yes, it's where I'm comfortable; being in charge, setting the pace, the mood. I'm not sure about ropes and whips and pain, I really don't have much experience with that stuff. What about you?"
Her eyes kind of glowed at the mention of ropes, but she lowered her eyes, a bit before raising them up to meet mine.
"I'm a submissive at heart," she said, "I also admit to enjoying the rougher things."
"By the way your eyes lit up at the words ropes and whips," I teased, "I kinda figured."
"Well it's not all that I am," she smiled over her glass at me, then lifting an eyebrow "Tell me, Richard, you have any place to be tonight?"
"No place really," I stated, with a tight twist in my gut, "Are you fixing on getting amorous?"
"What do you think?" she asked, putting her glass on the coffee table.
For the first time in a long time, I let my actions speak before my mouth, and I leaned into her and kissed her tenderly. She kissed back and opened her mouth and let her tongue drift along my lips. I deepened the kiss pressing into her, my beard tickling her chin as our tongues touched and entwined.
She lifted her hands behind my shoulders, and pulled me closer and I wrapped my arms around her back. As we kissed, I slid my hands down and under her pert bottom. I leaned down into and pressed her into the sofa. She pulled me close to her, letting her legs slide around my thighs as we kissed.
I was just starting to enjoy myself with her under me, when she moved her hands from behind my shoulders to the front of my chest. She pressed back, a strong push, as we broke our kiss. She blinked slowly, then looked up into my eyes.
"How do you feel about long hot baths?" She asked with a smile.
"Big fan," I said, a bit breathlessly.
"The bathroom is down the hall, I'll go start the water, if..." she started.
"If..." I replied shifting back from leaning over her and wondering what was coming next.
"You need to go down to the basement and get the black duffle bag and bring it with you. It's right next to the door."
I shrugged, "Okay, no problem. But what is in the duffle bag?"
"Ropes, a vibrator, other things." she drifted off, almost shyly.
I grinned slightly, and blushed a bit, "I might need help with the knots, I've never really done anything with ropes."
"Well, we'll see," she said and slipped from the sofa with feline grace and strode down the hall, "Don't dally long Richard."
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When I first saw her, she was sitting innocuously a few seats down and looked over at me and smiled. I'd never seen her before, which was strange, because I'm sure I would have remembered her. She was dressed casually in jeans and a black turtleneck top that with sleeves that ended at her elbows. She wore diamond earrings with her shoulder length hair tucked behind her ears, the only other piece of jewelry was a single ring on her right ring finger. Her makeup was tastefully understated. Her neat and simple look set her apart from the regular Munch attendees that usually wore their kinks on the sleeves with tattoos, piercings and garish jewelry.
As my gaze lingered, I was a bit surprised when she got up to come sit with me. My focus lowered to her midriff as she stood which teasingly exposed a toned abdomen. Her lips curved in a slim smile as she walked over with a practiced grace that only made her seem more alluring. She was shortish, but not short. Not skinny, but fit, her movement betrayed years of athletics. She had brown hair that danced around her shoulders like a curtain. Her breasts were small, maybe b-cups, but on her frame they were just perfect. If I'd seen her before, I would have remembered.
"You're a troublemaker, sir," she said as she slid next to me, leaning in close..
The thing about Munches is the people are fairly comfortable with being close to others, so it wasn't rare for strangers to slide up to a stranger and share a secret whisper, giggle a bit then wander off to someone else. It's part of the culture, I'd found these slight casual points of intimacy, followed by an empty space a few moments later strangely comforting.
"Bah," I replied, "I'm a bit grumpy this morning. Just felt like stirring the waters a bit."
She slid her hand under my arm, and reached for my hand, entwining her fingers casually, but giving my stomach a flip flop with her casual intimacy.
"Yes, I enjoy seeing them get riled up over something so trivial." she countered leaning into my shoulder.
"Ah, but see," I enjoined, "to them the whims of the characters in The Song of Ice and Fire isn't trivial. Which is why they are easy to rile. Just don't bring up Christian Grey."
She drew back from me as if I told her I had the black plague, he eyes narrowing in disgust.
"You don't like those books?" she asked the disgust dripping from her words and almost palpable in her posture.
"Never read 'em, so I don't have an opinion one way or another." I countered, casually, trying not to drive her away, "But ask any of them, and they'll go on, and on, and on."
"I'll consider sitting with you, if you vow, right now, that you'll never touch those ..." she couldn't even speak the words.
"Deal," I quickly said, clinging inside to anything that would keep her close and talking to me.
She slid back beside me, leaning into my shoulder and reattached her fingers to mine.
"You scared me for for a moment," she laughed, "I had you pegged for someone with a keen intellect, and I'm rarely a poor judge of such things."
We quieted down and enjoyed the closeness of just being in each others space. We watched the others at the table take sides, and battlelines were drawn. The arguments grew heated, turning a bit rambunctious as they insults started to flow. I felt a bit bad at causing the disagreement and heated language. I released the younger lady's hand and stood up abruptly.
"My god, Who cares! It's really not such a big deal, they are characters in a book, for fucks sake. I'm sorry I ever said anything." I wheeled on my heel and walked away from the table, and around the corner, just wanting to get clear of the noise.
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After she had gone down the hallway to the bathroom, I exhaled and pushed my hand through my hair, wondering a bit what I'd gotten myself into, then I stood up from the sofa and walked back through the kitchen and looked for a door to the basement. After finding the pantry and the water heater, I struck gold on the third door, and found a set of stairs. I flipped on the light switch and stepped down the steep narrow staircase.
I got to the bottom, and looked around. There were various things strung around the room, an old steel framed bed with a twin sized mattress. Rows of ropes hung from the wall. There was a workbench with many drawers, some various bondage implements were scattered on the top.
I looked a bit closer and the floor was studded with folding tie-down spots, neatly embedded in the concrete floor. The ceiling was similarly arrayed with eyebolts, and even an industrial chain hoist. There were various benches and tables lined up neatly along the side of the large room, and the light was stark from a couple of single light bulbs, casting long shadows into the corners of the room.
"Whoa," I said outloud, "a dungeon."
I'd heard of such things, but had never really thought it was anything more than bragging. Do people really enjoy being tied up, whipped, tortured? I felt a chill run up my spine as I remembered why I was down here and looked for a black duffle bag. The promises of her kisses were overriding the uneasy sense that I might be a bit over my head. I found the bag, and picked it up. It was heavy, substantial. It felt serious, like a professional kit, or something a SWAT team would take with them to carry gear to a scene.
With a deep breath, and carried the bag back up to the main floor, and found my way to the hallway that Emily had vanished into. I paced down the hallway and heard the sound of water and reached for the door handle to open it.
The room was lit by candles, the large tub filling and the warm steamy feel of the room was palpable. Emily was naked, her back to me and bent over lighting a candle on a shelf behind the tub. Her body was flawless, fit, trim, muscular. He bottom round and firm, her hair pulled back into a simple pony tail that flung around as she turned to see me come in.
"Oh I see you found it." she smiled putting the candle lighter down.
"Umm, yeah," I said, then paused, "... and a few other things?"
"Oh?" she asked curiously, not at all embarrassed that I'd found her dungeon, "What do you think?"
I ran my finger through my hair and exhaled, then looked up at her, "I think I'm in a bit over my head, I'm not much one for inflicting pain."
She smiled, and slid across the room to me, "I enjoy pain, it's true," she said, "but it's not all that I am."
I dropped the duffle bag and pulled her back to me. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I knew I wanted to pull her close and feel her against me. I leaned down and kissed her lips, and ran my hands down her flanks to her bottom, and cupped the round firm cheeks and squeezed as she kissed me back.
She pulled back and asked, "Do you like my ass, Richard?"
I nodded, and spoke huskily "Yes." before pulling her back to me and kissing again.
I reached my hand up and cupped one of her small pert breasts, and squeezed firmly, my fingertips pulling at her hardened nipples.
She slunk back with a hiss of arousal then pulled her hand up and grabbed mine with surprising strength, pushing it away from her breast.
