by Misty Kayn
Bound by Ink: HERE FOR SHAYE
by Misty Kayn
- A BDSM Bring Out Your Kink Writing Event Story -
Introduction
This story is part of the Bound by Ink writing event celebrating our kinky desires. This springs forth from the Bring Out Your Kink writing event sponsored by the Goodreads BDSM Group. This story is posted inside the group as a free gift to members.
What is Bound by Ink?
This is the first writing event hosted by the Goodreads BDSM Group. Members provided a photo and letter to inspire writers to create an original story. Writers picked the prompt that spoke to them most. To view the original writing prompt, we invite you to join us in the Goodreads BDSM Group. View or join our free flowing collaboration between our members and writers in the Bring Out Your Kink section.
WARNING
This material will contain sexually explicit content and is only intended for adult readers. There may be content in here which will be triggers for readers. The BDSM Group strongly advises each reader to review the story tags as well as content warnings. Read at your own risk.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the writer's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved worldwide.
This eBook may not be sold, manipulated or reproduced in any format without the express written permission of the author.
Here for Shaye, Copyright © September 2015 Misty Kayn
Cover Art by Misty Kayn
The content of this eBook was written for the BDSM Group’s writing event. It is neither directly endorsed by nor affiliated with Goodreads Inc. or its parent company or any of its affiliates.
PHOTO DESCRIPTION
A woman with long blond hair is kneeling on top of a man. She is wearing a white long sleeve shirt with grey stripes. Her white skirt is pushed up around her waist revealing a reddened butt. The man below her is wearing a white short-sleeve shirt with grey stripes. He has a distinct black tattoo just below his elbow. His hands are around the woman’s neck and she appears to be riding him. A man dressed in jeans, a black shirt, and black belt stands in front of the women. His jeans are pulled down in the front with his penis and testicles pulled freed. His penis is in the woman’s mouth and from the position of his hands behind her head he appears to be face fucking her. He wears a single gold band on his right hand. A grassy area is visible in the background along with a white wall covered in graffiti.
STORY LETTER
Dear Pervert,
She had always been different from her friends when it came to sex. She wanted it wilder although she could not put words on exactly what it was she wanted. She just knew that guys her age had never been able satisfy her sexual hunger.
When she created an online profile on a BDSM website, she didn't have any idea what to expect, but now she was on her way on her first date with a stranger. He was handsome, dark, strong and 20 years older than her. Through messaging they had agreed on a safeword, which she had never used before. He was experienced and she was both very excited and nervous to meet him.
He had asked her to meet in a big park in the city center and to just wear a dress and shoes. No bra and no nickers. She felt a tingle in her pussy as she got on the bus to go meet him. The thin fabric caressing hard her nipples, calling unwanted attention from other passengers. She felt vulnerable and exposed, and her cunt was soaking wet even before she had arrived at her destination.
As she saw him walk toward her she thought to herself that this was a crazy idea, what the HELL was she doing? But when he warmly greeted her and she heard his deep, calm voice, she decided to let go of her fears and inhibitions. She decided to do whatever he asked of her from this moment onwards...
- Dolores
STORY SYNOPSIS
Shaye is a stray puppy girl. When Sir R, her online Dominant, arranges their first meet, she heads out of town excited to see him, until her best friend decides to join her for the weekend. Her comfort zone is threatened, but if she confronts her fears of exhibition, she might just win the ultimate treat.
KINKY TAGS
Fetish - BD, Fetish - D/S, Fetish - SM, Fetish - Maledom, Sex-Content - M/F, Sex-Content - Multiple
CONTENT WARNING
Face slapping and humiliation
DEDICATION
For the 2015 Moderators of the BDSM group on Goodreads and members who make it a kinky place to be.
TABLE OF CONTENT
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
ABOUT AUTHOR
ONE
Adventure, by definition, was an activity of hazardous sorts. Meeting Sir R with whom she'd exchanged online debauchery for a weekend camping trip in the heat of the desert's July sun, was hazardous.
First shift's work report completed, Shaye loaded a tray with six more test tubes on the main hematology instrument. While the probe sucked up the blood for testing, she checked the time on the wall. Three thirty on a Friday afternoon. She was running late. Where was he?
On her far left, the specimen processing staff clicked keyboards and entered the last of the dayshift's collections. Second shift phlebotomists swung through main laboratory doors, coming from and to the hospital's floor calls. On the right of the open lab space was the chemistry department, the loudest sector of the lab. Seven gigantic instruments buzzed their own tune in-between the stages of testing, their train like rails carried and sampled thousands of tubes a day. She waved at the second shift's chemistry coworker who pointed at her wrist. "Write him up!"
"Nah, he'll be here. Eventually."
Large hands landed on her hips, minty breath brushed against her ear. "Heya, doggy," Frank whispered.
Shaye moved away and walked the five steps to the pale green workstation. She took a pen out of her hair and while scribbling her initials on the shift report said, "Four need manual counts, and one bone marrow is set up for Dr. Pascal on station two. She'll be coming in soon. I left preliminary notes."
Frank rubbed hips with her. She sighed and changed course, heading for the main microscope station. Dating a coworker was a mistake she wouldn't repeat again. Their relationship ended before Shaye decided to pursue an online chat group. It ended when she told him she was kinky and at his insistence, showed him what she liked. He laughed at her then but ever since she left him, he pursued her with rather forceful interest.
He followed. "What's the rush eh?"
She glimpsed at her workplace. Most of the second shift's staff had arrived. "I got places to be," she said softly, weary of the others who pretended not to listen but heard everything. "You're late again, please don't make a scene." With ten percent bleach sprayed on the paper towel, she wiped the scope, the workstation, and the phone receiver. She removed her latex gloves and threw them in the bin then hurried to the wall to hang her lab coat. She should've listened to her friend Dallas when he told her Frank wasn't the guy for her.
Although Dallas didn't know about her bedroom activities, he was right about Frank, and in the end, Shaye turned to an online group. Munches in the area were scarce and even if she found a gathering in the Coachella Valley, she wouldn't go. Crowds made her uneasy. Kinky folks fast uncovered the dark side even when one veiled it. Online, sheltered behind her computer, she typed desires she'd have otherwise struggled to reveal.
Inside the employee lounge, at her metal locker, he cornered her. "I Googled what you're into and I wanna try."
"I don't, but thank you. Good luck." Humiliation, as a part of the scene, was one thing, making fun of her with a collar on wa
s another. She didn't forgive him, and his laughing at her and calling her a “doggy" didn't ring like he’d Googled lifestyle at all.
"Why not?"
She turned and faced him. His pale blue eyes, once serene, were now somehow darker. "One, you made me feel like a freak and I regret telling you about my life, and two, we work together. Three, you're late most of the time and I have to cover for you. I just don't think you're ready to take on a...doggy."
Near her head, his palm pressed the locker. "I'm sorry, I said I was sorry, what do you want from me? Jesus, you can hold a grudge."
"I don't want anything from you apart from what we have here. Have a good weekend."
He gripped her elbow when she tried to leave. "I found you online."
She paled. "What?"
"I know all about the chat rooms, the RPs, and other shit you've been doing."
Shaye tugged her arm, swung open the door, and left in the echo of his, all too familiar, laughter. Scents of cleaning products hit her nose as she walked like a zombie through the maze of cold, white basement hallways. In the parking garage, she sat in her car and tapped the steering wheel. Frank was pushy at work and he'd found her online. His efforts to get back together troubled her. What would he say in the group? She picked up her phone and opened Safari then saw the time on the screen. Damn. She didn't have time to check and see if he posted anything.
Shaye inhaled the fresh gardenia scent, sprinkled by the people at the car wash around the corner, in hopes the pleasant smell swept away her worries. She tucked the phone between her legs. The white scrubs didn’t look as sexy as the shorts and t-shirt she wanted to wear to her big meet. From the locker, she'd only grabbed her purse. Distracted by her ex, she'd forgotten her outfit and a swimsuit.
In the trunk she had more clothes. Hand on the door handle, she tapped it, thinking she should hurry and get on the road. She drove out of the dark parking garage straight into the blinding Palm Springs afternoon sun that rose high above the tall palm trees lining the road. She scrambled for sunglasses on the passenger's side visor. They covered half of her face. She took a right onto Indian Canyon Drive.
On her way to the highway, air-conditioning to the maximum, she turned on the rock radio station and jammed her way out of thinking about her ex-boyfriend to her current interest, a man in his forties who knew what he wanted and how to deliver it precisely the way she liked. Sir R was stern, always on time online, and he didn't make her feel like her kinks were anything other than ordinary. Even if they were. She loved the way he allowed her to just be herself and not worry about him judging her.
Head bobbing to the rock music of her mother's youth, thoughts somewhere between Sir R's balls, she took the highway exit and read a few casino signs. "Jackpot at 108,000 and counting! Winner, Winner!" they said.
She squinted her eyes and ducked to look out of the passenger window. Was that…? It was. Oh, hell. Emergency flashing lights on, she pulled over to the side and threw her hands in the air.
A swimmer-slender, tall man wearing yellow, below the knee swim shorts, tight bright green muscle shirt, and blue flip flops, stuck his thumb out. He sashayed to the car, opened the door, threw his backpack in the back, and plopped his ass in the passenger seat. "Dayum, girl! It's like a furnace out there." He adjusted the vent units to blow in his face.
Shaye gaped. "Wha..? Are you hitchhiking?"
"Waiting for you. An hour ago," he said and fastened his seatbelt. "Cry me a river!" He turned up the radio.
Shaye flicked the radio switch and faced her best friend’s profile.
Silence.
Dallas was two years younger than her with dark skin, shaved head, and big brown eyes. His most striking feature, other than his hard eight pack, were his full lips that often stretched into a smile. Just like now.
"What are you doing and where is Mystique?" Shaye asked. Dallas was her check-in person, a back up to make sure everything was going as it should with Sir R. He was also dog-sitting for the weekend.
"I drove her to your mom's and told her we'd call."
"Mom's?! I didn't want Mom to know I was gone this weekend. She'll ask too many questions and I don't feel like reporting."
"I know, but he could be a serial killer and your mother is a cop."
"I could be a serial killer." Shaye tapped the steering wheel. She was so late.
"You weigh one hundred and ten pounds and can't kill a spider, I'm coming along."
"Shit, Dallas you can't come."
"Why not?"
"Because you're a guy. He's gonna think we're together, together."
"We'll explain."
She didn't think thousands of explanations would do her much good. She was bringing a man to another man whom she’d told she was single. "He doesn't know you're coming, maybe he'll bail.
"He's not gonna bail, but you could try driving, seeing as it's passed four o'clock."
Shaye picked up her phone and texted Sir R.
Sir R: In that case, meet me at the yellow gas station in Blythe. You can't miss it on your left.
Shaye: I can't wait to see you.
She bit the inside of her mouth and hit send.
"You didn't tell him did you?"
Shaye tucked the phone between her legs and shook her head. She'd face Sir R's disproval rather then get dumped on the side of the road before she even met him. He was one of a kind guy for a girl like her.
Car idling on the side of the road, she considered the mountain range that stretched along the highway on the left. Her luck with men was something like the steep dip between the two tops. If she didn't climb hard enough, if she didn't manage the obstacles in the way, she'd never get collared. She wanted to keep the collar he'd place around her neck this weekend. The collar to a girl like her was akin to an engagement ring most girls wanted from the boyfriends they planned to commit to. She didn't want engagement or marriage, but a collar was a commitment, a sacred vow, promising their needs would be met by giving up her comfort in exchange for his guidance.
Dallas took her hand in his. "I was gonna find a place a little further down from you guys and chill out. You gotta take me with you."
He was a wonderful friend with the best intentions even if not well thought out. Shaye didn't have time to take him home and Dallas walked several miles all the way out here. She couldn't leave him behind. "It's okay, we can all have a weekend out." She turned on the highway and cranked up the radio in hopes Sir R was an understanding man. He was. Right. She nodded an affirmative. In the corner of her eye, she caught Dallas's smile.
TWO
Blythe, a small California town about a hundred and thirty miles east of Palm Springs, sat on the Colorado River. Driving was made easy with few stop lights and nearly empty streets separated by a row of carefully planted, partially dried palm trees. On the left, low rise small business offices with chipped paint stood in contrast to the right side of the road where tall bushes and trees hid the river below.
Dallas pointed to the right. "This is the unpaved road pass the town locals use to get to the river and that's where he's taking you." He pointed to the left. "The yellow station. Pull up there or you'll hyperventilate."
"Oh God, I'm so nervous." She drove between the cafeteria on the left and the pumps on the right where a burgundy truck and the man who leaned against it, waited.
She parked her car around the corner, on the side of the gas station before the white WC sign. Her hands shook, sticky with sweat, she wiped them clean on her scrubs. "What if it doesn't work out?" Shaye ran a hand through her hair, and released the clip. Hair brushed her shoulders. She placed the clip around the shift handle and flipped down her visor. A mess of red curls reflected in the mirror, her hairbrush left behind in the locker. "He's gonna think I didn't even try to look nice." She finger combed her hair. "What if it doesn't work out?"
"It'll work out."
She turned to face her friend.
Dallas smiled broadly and snapped open his seatbelt. "You're
cute and funny and smart. It'll be fine."
"He's forty-two, been there done cute, funny and smart, along with several other combinations of blonde, blue and peachy. What do I have?"
"Freckles. Make you seem younger."
Great. "What else?"
"Best tits in the Valley."
"Okay that's better, keep going."
"He's waiting."
"Shit."
Her black work flats padded silently as she walked next to the building and out to the main station lot. The station was large for a small town. Four rows of three double sets of gas pumps with only one occupied pump closest to the entrance. She straightened her top with one hand while gripping the handle of her purse with the other. She stopped at the sidewalk when he turned to face them. They were only few feet apart but her legs didn't move, couldn't close the distance.
He wore a light blue polo shirt with a red collar, black swim shorts, and black tennis shoes. His tall frame was muscular and fit, his face was clean-shaven, his brown hair was cut to about two inches, and his eyes were covered with black sporty sunglasses. He recognized her. They didn't share pictures over the Internet, but he knew by description what she looked like. When she didn't move towards him, he approached the sidewalk and stood before them.
"I'm here for Shaye," he said and observed the two.
"Hi.” She raised her hand to wave when he didn't offer a hug. Or his hand.
"Dallas. Shaye's friend." He stepped forward and extended his.
Sir R shook it, held onto Dallas' hand a little too long. "Let’s take this inside." He opened the door to the cafeteria and waited. She willed her feet to move.
The cool indoor air swept her like a wave, but failed to cool her nerves. Shaye sighed a welcome for the empty place that smelled like fast food then took a right for the red plastic tables before the cashier's station and the yellow hot dog stand. She stood by the table and waited for him to sit first and when he sat facing the door, she took the chair across from him. They folded their sunglasses on the red table. He placed his car key, neatly, next to them.
