Between The Lines

by Drew Sera

  That’s so “Amy.” I could almost hear her light, playful voice along with her laugh as I read her comment. Fans started responding with their opinions of some good shows.

  Comment from Renee Matthews: Are you single? Have a significant other?

  My heart began pounding. How would she answer? Would she answer? I didn’t know if she had a prepped answer to this question. Maybe she has some blanket type of an answer that she uses for this question. I’m sure this question pops up from time to time. Amy was jumping around answering some questions here and there and I even thought that she might just avoid this question. I felt a nervous kick in my stomach when I saw her typing dots flash on the screen.

  Comment from Amy Andrews: Currently I am single, but I have someone very special in my life.

  I raised my eyebrows as my mind raced. Was she talking about me? I’ve never heard her mention another guy. We’ve talked about it before, and I knew she wasn’t seeing anyone. Was that a typical public response?

  I watched the fans respond to that while I tried to figure out if she was, in fact, talking about me. Many readers were instantly interested in Amy Andrews’ mystery man. Amy’s responses were vague, and she didn’t give much away. I decided to send her a text rather than post it.

  J.P.: Nice vague answers.

  Amy: I wasn’t going to out you, lol.

  I wasn’t able to contain the huge smile that spread across my face as I read that. I was as special to Amy as she was to me. This was a relationship that I was proud of, and I’d take care of it.

  J.P.: I was hoping you were talking about me.

  Amy sent me a smiling face emoji, and soon she was typing away on the screen, answering questions. While watching the rest of her live event, I had a calendar reminder pop up letting me know my club dues were approaching the deadline.

  “Fuck,” I said out loud and tossed the phone on the cushion next to me.

  I leaned back on the couch and thought for a few minutes, loosely planning my upcoming expenses. I had my dungeon membership due, mortgage payment coming up, my car, and I wanted to go to Amy’s event in Myrtle Beach.

  I grabbed my phone and logged into my bank account and stared at my savings account balance. Fuck. What I wouldn’t give to be loaded. All my problems would disappear. I hated not having the ability to do what I wanted when I wanted. And I hated not having the things that I wanted. Some people buy new cars every year or every couple of years.

  If I cut back in a few areas, I could still get the dungeon membership paid, the house and car, and go to Amy’s event. Amy’s event was important to me. After her online appearance tonight, I began looking for airfare and hotels. I needed to be budget conscious but hated to scrimp on hotels.

  My phone lit up with the online profile picture of Amy that I have attached to her number in my list of contacts. I picked it up, excited that she was calling.

  “Princess, good evening,” I said and leaned back against the cushions to relax and give her my undivided attention.

  “Hi, my romantic sadist. Thank you for watching the event tonight. The Author Stalkers Unite group always has a lot of fans and readers, so I love stopping in there. They ask some of the greatest questions.”

  I laughed and shook my head, thinking back to the girl asking about the TV show.

  “The TV show one made me laugh only because I knew your answer. I could even hear your voice saying it,” I said.

  “People are always curious about what might connect them to the author. I don’t mind their questions.”

  “I like that I’m someone special to you. You made my night with that, princess.”

  I held my breath, hoping that it wasn’t going to be awkward. Amy could be shy.

  “Well, you are special to me. You’ve been so great through this book thing, and I’ve gained a close friend in you.”

  We talked off and on a bit more about the book release and she said she was going to release the cover tomorrow. I was so excited to see it. I slowly guided our conversation away from books and onto another topic: bondage. Amy had an interest in it, but I knew she was hesitant to try. Unless she felt comfortable with who she was trying it with.

  “Have you been thinking more about experiencing bondage, princess?”

  Her playful laugh filled the space between the phone and my ear.

  “Yeah, I think I would like to. I’ve been looking online at pictures, and it looks so pretty and involved. I’m going to try to find a forum on Kinky Links and talk to some people who have experienced it.”

  I smiled and propped my feet up on the coffee table. Amy was interested.

  “Do a search on ‘rope bottoms.’ It’s a term used to describe those who enjoy being bound in rope.”

  “Rope bottom. Got it.”

  “Years and years ago, when I first got involved in the BDSM scene, I had a few mentors. I was encouraged to try and experience everything myself that I intended to do to another. That way, I had a pretty good idea and understanding of how things actually felt. Rope bondage was one of those things that I tried.”

  “Really? Tell me about it. I so want to hear about being bound from your perspective.”

  “Amy, it means something different to everyone. The experience is very individualized, and my experience would be completely different than yours. But for me, I felt helpless. I’m not comfortable with that feeling at all or knowing that I have to trust another person with my well-being during that time.”

  “Were you bound with rope or chains? Or something else?” Amy asked.

  “Both. I’ve had a few experiences being bound. Twice with rope and twice with chains. The Doms that I was learning from wanted me to experience the other side of the coin. So, I had two experiences where I was bound and stayed in a position for a set amount of time and two others where I was bound and beat.”

  “That had to be kind of scary to be bound, beat, and helpless.”

  “I was never afraid, Amy. My mentor stayed in the room with me and watched over me. I also had a safe word to use in case I needed out of the restraints.”

  “So what kind of positioning were you in for the two times you were restrained but not beat?”

  “I was restrained to a chair with rope and chained to a stone column. During those times, I tested my range of motion and simply remained still and did nothing more than think. My other two experiences were quite a bit different.”

  “Do tell, Mr. Sadist, I’m all ears,” Amy prompted.

  “Like I said before, my mentors wanted me to know and understand what it felt like not only physically but also to experience mentally some of the acts that I enjoyed carrying out as a Dom. My favorite act, Amy, is to restrain a submissive and inflict some degree of pain.”

  Before I continued, she jumped in and asked what kind of things I used to inflict pain on a submissive.

  “Usually it’s impact with a paddle or flogger. I like using a belt or a leather strap a lot on the male subs. Sometimes a cane. And there are times I want to just use my bare hands.”

  “How do you determine what you use in those scenes?” she asked.

  “The number one determining factor is what has the submissive negotiated with me? If she tells me she has an aversion to belts, I’m certainly not going to use that. It most likely would trigger her, and she’d have a bad experience with me. So that’s number one. And the other factor is, what am I in the mood for? Do I just want to be a disciplinarian? If so, I’ll probably go with the paddle. If I want to leave some nasty marks, I’ll probably go with a cane.”

  “That makes sense. Sorry to have interrupted, I was curious about what you liked to use.”

  “Since I liked to inflict pain, I needed to experience that. My mentor chained me to a whipping post. Not only were my wrists bound by chains to the post, but there were chains wrapped around my chest and back. Chains were securing me to the post by my thighs too. Then I was flogged, caned and my mentor used a belt to beat me. I paid attention to the pain and how m
uch it hurt to have the chains rub against my flesh as it was lanced open. I mentally fought against this process, of course. But I understood the necessity of it.”

  “Oh, wow. Did you end up with a lot of wounds or cuts from it?”

  “Yes, most definitely,” I laughed into the phone as I recalled all the wounds I sustained that night.

  “Did you also experience being bound by rope and beat on?”

  “Yes. I sat on the floor, resting on my heels. The rope went around my chest and arms, then around my abdomen and arms. There was no give, and I couldn’t move my arms. The beating started with a flogger on my back and then my chest. He used a cane on my thighs, which was excruciating. My skin felt like it was on fire as the welts began to surface, and the coarse rope rubbed against them. Hurt like hell, but these were good for me to experience.”

  We talked a little bit longer and then wrapped up our conversation.

  “Tomorrow I’m going to post the book cover for Dark Kiss. I hope it’s received well.”

  “I’m sure it will be. There were tons of readers tonight that are eagerly waiting for it.”

  “We shall see.”

  Before crawling into bed, I checked Kinky Links for some new images, but nothing caught my attention. I was stroking myself while looking at my “not mine yet” photo album when my phone lit up with an incoming text. I glanced down and could see it was a picture text and Amy as the sender. I grabbed the phone just as another message from her came over.

  Amy: What do you think? I wanted you to be the first one to see it.

  I let go of my shaft and tapped on the picture of the cover to Dark Kiss. Wow. It was incredible. There was a picture of a house, dimly lit and looming behind and above it was gray fog. Gradually fading upward into the fog was the title. I really liked this. I quickly began to type out a message to her and then decided to just give her a quick call instead.

  “Hey, princess. I was going to text, but my typed words wouldn’t properly convey how excited I am.”

  “Aw, thank you. I. thought you might be in bed already and that you’d see it in the morning,” she said.

  Little did she know that I’ve been sleeping with the phone on my nightstand lately in case she sends a text.

  “I’m heading to bed, but I really wanted to tell you instead of texting you, how much I love this cover.”

  “I’m so glad you like it, J.P. That means a lot to me.”

  I smiled and tucked my shaft back into my pants and leaned back against my propped-up pillows.

  “You mean a lot to me, princess.”

  “You’re so sweet, J.P.,” Amy sweetly said. “Even if you are a sadist,” she added playfully.

  I could hear the smile in her voice.

  “Good. Now go have some filthy thoughts and push that thick butt plug up your ass. Come really hard and then drift off to a peaceful slumber. I love the book cover, Amy.”

  “Thanks, J.P. Have a great night and I will catch you tomorrow.”

  I got off the phone with Amy, and instead of going back to stare and jack off to my “not mine yet” photo album, I leaned back in bed and jacked off to the mental image of my cock buried in Amy’s ass.

  Chapter 17

  March

  Amy

  For three solid hours, I responded to messages regarding the cover for Dark Kiss. I was somewhat shell-shocked over it, to be honest. All my other covers have hot, sexy couples on them or just a sexy bare-chested guy. The cover of Dark Kiss was very different. There wasn’t a sexy couple or handsome man; it was just a house and fog. Yet it was generating more interest than any of my other covers.

  While I was feverishly replying on my phone to messages, Samantha’s face filled the screen as she called.

  “Hey Sam,” I said and leaned back in my chair to take a break from responding to things.

  “Oh, my God Aims. What the fuck is up with that cover? Do you see all of the positive comments rolling in from that cover? This is crazy. It’s a fucking house.”

  “I’ve been shaking my head all morning over it as well. Everyone seems really excited about it.”

  “I mean, it’s great and all. But it’s a house and fog,” Sam pointed out the obvious.

  “I showed J.P. the cover last night, and he also loved it. Maybe it’s something with the dark romance and BDSM genre,” I wondered out loud.

  “Well, it’s very different from the happily-ever-afters that you’ve been writing. From what I’ve seen, the readers that love dark romance or BDSM don’t tend to get all mushy over the sexy couple on a cover. They like depth, and the promise of something other than the plots of a guy meets a girl, and they live happily ever after. I think Dark Kiss has that in the cover.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  “Plus, that tagline is a killer; ‘She wanted dark…but how dark could she go?’ It’s fantastic Aims.”

  I swiveled around in my chair and smiled. I wondered if she knew just how much I wanted to experience something dark. I decided to test those waters with her.

  “J.P. and I were talking last night about rope bondage—well, and chains. I guess bondage in general. I think I’d be interested in trying it sometime,” I tossed out over the phone line.

  “Aw, little Amy Andrews wants to be tied up by the romantic sadist.” Her fit of laughter made me smile a bit. “Seriously Aims, that is wonderful. I enjoy it, and I think you would. It’s such a freeing experience.”

  “Being tied up and restricted is a freeing experience? I think you’re drunk.”

  “Once you experience it, you’ll see,” Samantha said with confidence.

  I considered what she said and tried to wrap my mind around it being a “freeing experience.”

  “I’ve seen Mr. J.P. Fever’s photo arsenal and I’d let that man tie me up too,” she added.

  I laughed and shook my head.

  “Does Ryan tie you up like that?” I asked.

  “Like what Mr. Fever does? No. Ryan can cuff me to the bed and do a simple rope knot, but that’s the extent of his restraint expertise. J.P. has some pretty impressive pictures.”

  “Yes, he has some interesting ones, that’s for sure,” I agreed.

  “Speaking of his pictures…have you asked him what the deal is with the girls in his ‘not mine yet’ collection?”

  I felt a twinge of jealousy at Sam’s mention of J.P.’s “not mine yet” photos. Obviously, there was something about those women that he was drawn to. Instantly I was in a depressed mood. Those women have something that he likes; something I don’t have.

  “I haven’t asked him, Sam. That’s his business.”

  “Yeah, but at the heart of it, you guys are good friends. That wouldn’t be something odd or out of line to ask him. I bet he’d tell you. He’s been open and honest with you about everything else, and he hasn’t steered you in the wrong direction.”

  “I’m not sure that I even want to know what his thing is with all those women. There seem to be a few, though I can’t tell for sure,” I said.

  “He’s uploaded a few recently, and there seem to be two or three different girls.”

  I sighed and nodded. J.P. continues to add pictures of women from a distance in scenes. I wondered if it’s silly to think anything else could possibly exist between us.

  “I haven’t been able to tell how many images are of different girls lately. Many of them are in different poses or various stages of play that it’s difficult to see their faces.”

  “Aw, Aims, don’t get discouraged,” Samantha said in her concerned tone.

  I sat up straighter in my chair and had to convince her that I wasn’t down, even though I was. I stood and meandered over to an end table in my office for my box of wintergreen Tic Tacs and popped a handful into my mouth.

  “I’m not discouraged, Sam. I’m simply being realistic. J.P. has women at his feet and obviously has particular tastes.”

  “You don’t know that for sure. Aims, you haven’t even asked him about those pictures.”<
br />
  “He’s a sadist, with sadist needs that I can’t meet.” I needed to get off the phone with her until I calmed my emotions down. “Sorry, Sam. I need to get going. I have a ton to do.”

  “Ah-ah! No, you don’t, Miss Andrews! We’re not done,” Sam quickly said, trying to strong arm me into staying on the phone.

  “I’m going to hang up, Sam.”

  “No, I swear if you do—”

  I pulled my phone away from my ear and hit the “end” button and smirked. I set the phone on the end table next to the wintergreen Tic Tac box and ignored her face as it lit up my screen with her incoming call.

  I just needed some quiet for now and to sit with my thoughts for a while. After the hours I spent this morning trying to respond to messages and posts, I was tired and needed a break from that as well.

  Abandoning my office, I grabbed my iPad and headed out to my patio. With an ice cold Vanilla Coke sitting next to me, I logged into Kinky Links and looked at J.P.’s pictures. I started at the beginning, which spanned over years and years. I stopped at each picture labeled as “not mine yet,” and looked for similarities.

  Was it the height of the girl? I had no way of telling because the images were from a distance and in many the pictures the woman was on the ground.

  Was it their hair color? Doubtful, since all the women had different shades of hair color.

  Was it their eyes? Another dead end because it was impossible in most cases to determine the woman’s eye color.

  Was it their body type or structure? There was no way of knowing because none of the pictures gave clear images of the women.

  The pictures of the scenes with the women labeled as “not mine yet” were somewhat tame in appearance compared to the pictures that J.P. took during his own scenes. Most of the “not mine yet” women weren’t sporting bruises or marks yet. From the distance, some seemed to have red asses, but none were marked like J.P.’s girls were.

  Maybe that’s it.