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B Is For Bondage

EDITORIAL FEATURES

B Is For BondageWelcome back to the Fleshbot Book Club-your chance to get a sneak peek at some of the hottest erotic literature out now. Today's selection comes from Cleis Press's B is for Bondage, edited by Alison Tyler.

The following excerpt is from "Time for a Spanking," by Sara DeMuci.

"Bend over. It's time for a spanking."

I know what this means; I know how you want me. Naked, and bent over the bench. Way over, my arms grasping the eyebolts on the far side. My legs spread wide. My pussy exposed.

I walk meekly over to the bench and take off my clothes. First the blouse, then the skirt. I stand there in my bra and panties feeling your hungry gaze all over me. You've already selected the implement of my punishment: a long, thick paddle I've felt many times before. I unhitch the front clasp of my bra and take it off. Then I pull my panties down to my ankles and step out of them. I kick off my shoes and now I'm the way you want me: naked.

I bend over the spanking bench, which has been built specially for me. It's exactly the right height to support my belly as I lean over, far over-so far my heels leave the ground and I stand on my tiptoes as I grasp the tie-downs. My long hair hangs down over my face. You come around the side and wrap leather restraints around my wrists, then padlock me to the eyebolts.

Then you pull up my hair and rubber-band it behind my head so you can see my face. I redden. There's no hiding from your devouring stare.

"Open your mouth," you say.

I obey, and you pop a gag into my mouth, buckling it at the back of my head. I run my tongue over it; I know the contour well. It's shaped like a cock. Even when you're punishing me, you want a cock in my mouth.

And it's a very big cock. It forces my mouth wide open; I can't even beg for mercy. The gag presses deep into my mouth, almost reaching my throat. It stifles my breathing and I have to take great, slow breaths through my nose.

Your fingers caress my face, reminding me that I belong to you.

Your hand grasps the bun you've formed of my hair. Then, without warning, your other hand slaps me across the face, hard. Tears form in my eyes. You slap me again, and twice more until you feel the tears slide out of my eyes and onto your hand. You touch them and put your fingertips in your mouth. Tasting my tears.

You hold my head firmly, and slap me three more times. A sob bursts through me, muffled by the thick gag. Five more, six more, seven, eight, ten, twelve, and I'm sobbing uncontrollably behind the gag. Just the way you want me.

When you've reduced me to nothing, you're ready to continue.

You get behind me and my ankles get the same treatment as my wrists. I'm suspended, now, hanging over the spanking bench, defenseless and sobbing. Before you've even started. Before you've even spanked me once.

Your hand slides up my inner thigh until it touches my shaved pussy. I'm dripping. Gushing. You dip your fingers in my juice and smear it over my thighs. I feel its coolness as it dries, growing tacky. Reminding me that I want this, no matter how much I sob.

Tears leak out of my eyes and form a pool underneath me. You tease my clit and I try to squirm out of the restraints.

It's hopeless. I'm bound fast.

You run the edge of the paddle over my cunt. You gently stroke my sweet spot with the flat of it. I moan. I sob. You strike me.

Hard. No warm-up. No warm-up at all.

There's a brief flash of nothingness, and then the pain thunders through me. My whole naked body shudders. Another sob comes. You strike me again, harder. I throw back my head and wail. I make only a
distant groan through the cock-shaped gag. You push up close to me, leaning on the bench so hard it creaks. You raise the paddle and bring it down on my ass. Now you're warming me up. Slow, at first, building until I'm thrashing and pulling against my bonds. Harder, now, making me scream behind the gag. My tongue feels the pressure of the swollen cockhead in my mouth, pushing toward the back. You paddle
me harder. Harder. Faster. I scream.

I hear the paddle drop between my feet and your fingers rove over my cunt. I'm so wet that droplets of it ooze out onto your fingers. You draw back your hand and spank my cunt.

My naked body spasms, and I try to pull free of the restraints. You spank my cunt again. And again. Your middle finger strikes my clit, right at the bony ridge at the underside of your knuckle. I scream. I try to get
free. You spank my cunt. Harder.

I come.

It's so overwhelming I feel like the room is spinning around me. Pleasure rips through my body and I pull at the restraints, sobbing with release. You start to rub my clit, which only makes my orgasm mount higher. I hang over the bench, my naked body slack. You spank my cunt again, and right after an orgasm it's always so sensitive that you know exactly what you're doing to me. You're hurting me. Hurting me terribly.

You spank my cunt again.

Then I feel your hand caressing my reddened cheeks, stroking their curves, petting my sweet spot. You draw back your hand and spank me. My ass, this time. Right on my sweet spot. Right where the vibrations go rumbling directly into my too-sensitive clit. Right where it feels like you're fucking me.

You spank me again, and again, each blow rising in intensity as my cheeks get hot. Tears run out of my eyes and over my forehead, onto the floor. My ass pumps back and forth as you spank me.

My ass is now raised as high as I can make it, and I'm standing on tiptoes, straining the manacles. You alternate hard spanks and lighter ones; slow caresses of my pussy as it gets wetter and wetter; touches to my clit, testing the way I twitch and moan behind the gag. Testing how close I am to coming again.

I'm very, very close.

You open your pants and press up behind me. You enter me so fiercely, savagely, that I don't expect it. I also don't expect the powerful response that pulses through my naked, bound body. I don't expect the orgasm that explodes through me as you start to fuck me. You pound me without care for my pleasure, using my cunt, using me. I'm just a hole to you. Just a thing you use to get yourself off. That makes me come harder, harder, my orgasm swirling all around me as I come and come and come and come and come. When you moan with your own release, I feel my pussy flooding with you and I'm not sure when or if my own second orgasm has ended. All I know is that my entire naked body is humming with pleasure.

You unlock my wrists and ankles, unbuckle the gag. You lift me off the bench and carry me to bed. You take off your clothes and wrap yourself around me. I lie there, spent, useless, but you've another use for me. You touch me all over, your hands tracing a path from my breasts to my belly to my cunt. You're hard again. You enter me slowly this time, and fuck me with great long strokes deep into my body. When I arch my back and come again, you let yourself go inside me for the second time. You lie on top of me and breathe hard.

My arms lie limp at my sides. My legs are wrapped around your body, the stretch of their muscles making my well-spanked ass feel warm and sore. Tears run down my face, and I taste them.

Salty and sweet.

Excerpted from B is for Bondage an anthology edited by Alison Tyler and published by Cleis Press.

The book is also on sale at Amazon.

Copyright (c) 2010 by Cleis Press.

If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.


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