Twist Tied

by Guimond, Heather

  I stood, licking my lips and staring down at the sweaty mess of a woman in front of me. I wanted to grab my phone and take another picture of my handiwork but feared for the safety of my testicles if I did. Man, it was tempting though.

  Finally, she regained her breath and groaned loudly. I could feel the tension still radiating off her, and I stood back, amused and wondering what gem she had in store for me. I cut her off before she could begin.

  “You disobeyed me again, Clarisse.”

  “Sorry, not sorry, motherfucker.”

  I almost choked as I held back my laugh. That was my girl, totally unapologetic even when she knew she should be. Reaching down, I magnanimously unclipped her cuffs so she could at least roll over and look at me. When she did, she stared daggers at me.

  “You know, you could have gone just a little bit easy on me, what with this being the first real stab we took at trying to do this.”

  “My mom always said, ‘Start out as you mean to go on.’ I was just following her wisdom.”

  “I don’t think thoughts of your mom are appropriate at a time like this,” she said as she tried to unbuckle the leather from her wrists. Finally, she gave up and held them out to me.

  “I wasn’t actually thinking of my mom, just explaining my rationale.”

  “It’s still better if you don’t talk about her when you have a woman buck naked in your bed, recovering from the earth-shattering orgasm you’ve just given her. Just saying.”

  “Duly noted. Now, I’m going to have to come up with some other kind of punishment for you for being unruly. The bright side is now I know at least one of your thresholds for pleasure.”

  “Damn, you do. I’ve never had anyone do that to me before, but fuck me, it was amazing. If you want me to follow your orders, you’d better never stick anything in my ass again,” she said as I tossed the cuffs onto the bed. I turned toward the bathroom so I could wash my face and hands, but she stopped me with a hand at my shoulder.

  “Don’t you want me to take care of you now?” she asked sincerely.

  “Nope. I’m good,” I replied with a half-smile. Breaking her composure had been all the satisfaction I needed.

  “Really? Because I really want to. The orgasm was amazing, but I feel sort of… unbalanced. I need to make you come.”

  “Then consider that your punishment. Whenever you’re a bad girl, I won’t let you get me off.”

  I watched as she twisted her mouth to the side, and her face turned bright red. She was trying so hard not to cuss me out. God, she was cute when she was mad.

  * * *

  We were up well before most functioning rational humans would have been the next day. Clarisse had made the executive decision we should drive to Topeka once she learned just how much the fare would be with the number and weight of the boxes of books and swag. I hadn’t really cared about the cost, but she refused to let me pay for it. I suspected her real motivation was to get my car out on an open stretch of highway and floor it. Nevertheless, she took charge, getting me out of bed at the ungodly hour of two o’clock, then after graciously allowing me a few swallows of coffee, she bossed me around, telling me exactly what to do. She even selected every outfit I was bringing with me.

  “Do I really have to have a tie?” I asked, the offending item draped over my hand as she held another one up for inspection. I supposed I was lucky she was even offering me a choice of which one.

  “Of course you do. You never know what could happen. What if one of the major publishers approach you for a meeting? You’ll want to look professional.”

  “Clarisse, I have no interest in a traditional publisher. Besides, do you really think they’d single out a small signing in Topeka where hardly anyone knows I’ll be since I’m taking Travis Leadwell’s place? My name has only been on the banner a couple days.”

  “Jesus, it’s clear you were never a boy scout. ‘Always be prepared.’ Didn’t your mom teach you that pearl of wisdom?”

  “Fine, put the striped tie into the case. Just don’t expect me to wear it unless absolutely necessary.”

  “Only then,” she promised as she stowed it in the small compartment in the lid of the case.

  After our bags were packed, we went back to my office to haul the boxes of books and swag out to my car. We had a small problem we should have thought about before. My trunk was too small for everything, including our suitcases. I was concerned about the leather on my back seats as Clarisse shoved them into the back.

  “Quit fussing,” she said to me after I’d let one too many worries cross my lips. “Leather is durable. It’ll be fine. At least I didn’t put the boxes with their sharp pointed edges back there. Now let’s go.”

  By three-thirty, we stood staring at each other over the canvas top of my car. Already having fallen under her spell, I couldn’t deny her the chance she was itching for. I flipped the keys to her as she smiled wickedly, proving my prior suspicions correct.

  * * *

  After an hour or two, we watched the sun come up over the pastoral farmlands whizzing by at top speed because Clarisse didn’t seem to be able to drive slower than ninety miles an hour. We’d just crossed the Oklahoma state border when she turned her head to look at me. We’d been amusing ourselves with a version of “Cows on My Side” which was pretty much just hollering out when we saw a cow on either side of the road. It was probably the lamest game ever, but the voices and sounds Clarisse would make whenever she spotted one kept me laughing.

  “I think it’s time for a game change,” she said as she shifted gears. “Let’s play ‘Would You Rather…’”.

  “Are you sure? There are still miles of farmland ahead of us. Cows aplenty.”

  “We can play at the same time. Now tell me, would you rather have infinite power or infinite wealth?”

  “That’s easy. Infinite wealth. Money is power,” I said, clucking my tongue. “Would you rather be feared by all or loved by all?”

  “Oooh. Tough one. I think I’ll go with feared by all,” she said, her brow crinkled as if she wasn’t sure.

  “Is that your final answer?” I asked, intrigued.

  “Yep, definitely. That way I know shit will get done when I need it done. Fear is a great motivator for lots of people.”

  “Interesting. Okay, your turn,” I said, then swallowed hard when she gave me a devilish sidelong glance.

  “Would you rather have to shit your pants in public once a year, or have to do it every day in private?”

  “What? What the hell kind of question is that?” I laughed, trying hard not to imagine either situation.

  “Come on, you have to answer the question.”

  “I don’t want to shit myself at all!”

  “That isn’t one of your choices, Wyatt. Now choose.”

  “Okay, this requires some more information. If it’s in private, does that mean I’m alone? No one else in the house? Or if I’m in public, does anyone notice?”

  “You’re ruining the spirit of the game. Answer, dammit.”

  “Fine, I’ll go with private,” I replied, shaking my head in shame.

  “Really? You’d choose to shit your pants every day?”

  “Well, if I’m home alone, it’s a lot easier to clean up, and no one would know. Are you saying you’d choose public?” I asked, my eyes bulging in shock.

  “Absolutely not,” she replied, shaking her head firmly, her eyes trained on the road ahead. “Would you rather…”

  “No, wait. It’s my turn. Would you rather… secretly have sex with your cousin or not have sex with him but have everyone think you did?”

  “My cousin is a girl, and she’s absolutely bonkers. I say let everyone think so because there’s no way I’m getting that close to her again.”

  “Hmmm. I could cover for you, and we could say it was a hot three-way,” I teased, knowing full well what her answer would be. She surprised me when she reached over and slugged me in the arm.

  “That’s not even funny. With her
condition, she’d end up convincing herself it happened, then become fixated on you. Maybe I need to reconsider my decision.”

  “No take backsies. We had a kickass ménage à trois.”

  “Fine. Okay, here’s one. Would you rather have ten knives for fingers or ten penises for fingers?” she asked, looking at me expectantly, both eyebrows raised.

  “Oh geez. Well, having knives for fingers would be highly inconvenient though I wouldn’t need a razor to shave with anymore. Having penis fingers would be unsightly and make it hard to type when I’m writing,” I said thoughtfully, rubbing my hand over my chin as if in deep contemplation.

  “It’s definitely not an easy choice.”

  “I’m going to have to go with the penis fingers.”

  “You’d walk around with dick hands?”

  “Yeah. I figure the pros outweigh the cons. I couldn’t type with knife fingers either, and there is always the chance I could cut off my nose or another equally precious body part whenever I got an itch.”

  “So what are the advantages of having penis fingers?” she said, looking perplexed.

  “Remember what I did to you yesterday? Think of the possibilities,” I replied, a slow smile spreading across my face. I watched as she swallowed hard, her eyes taking on a faraway look.

  “Pay attention to the road, Clarisse. You don’t want to veer into the ditch, or worse, hit the next cow.”

  She nodded, gave a quick look in the rearview mirror, then settled her focus back on the highway ahead of us.

  “Your turn,” she said, her voice still a little husky from her momentary recall of our afternoon the day before. I thought for a while, then came up with the one thing that really interested me.

  “Would you rather be rich, famous, and alone or poor but with the love of your life?”

  “That’s easy. The love of my life.”

  “Have you ever been poor before?”

  “I have. Remember, I left home with only five hundred dollars to my name.”

  “Then you know it’s no fun, right?” I pushed, trying to learn more about the inner workings of her mind and heart.

  “I do. But I also know what it is to be alone. It wouldn’t matter if we lived paycheck to paycheck or if we had to scrape together change for our next meal. If I had someone I loved with all my heart, and he loved me back, I’d feel like I had everything,” she replied without looking at me.

  “Have you ever been in love?” I asked, genuinely curious to know what kind of memories I might have to compete with.

  “I thought I was once, but I was wrong. I was just in love with the idea of being in love. I was very young, still a teenager. It was just puppy love, over and done within six months.”

  “So, who would be the one for you? What do you think he’d be like?” That got me a look from her. She turned her head, her eyes soft and dreamy.

  “He’ll be strong, physically and mentally. Reliable. Someone who accepts me just like I am, who doesn’t want me to change my ways. It would great if he was hot as fuck, but even if he’s just average, it wouldn’t matter. Honestly, even if he was ugly, I wouldn’t care. All I need is someone with a beautiful heart. Oh, and a kinky bastard in the sack.”

  “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard to find,” I quipped, satisfied I met most of her criteria. I may not have been Mr. Adonis, but I didn’t think I was ugly. She seemed to like me just fine on that point. I was strong physically, for sure, but I might have to put a little more work into the mental part. I was doing my best though.

  “What about you? What’s your ideal woman like?” she asked. I could tell she was trying to be nonchalant, but the expectation on her face gave me hope that she was evaluating her fitness for me just as I had been her.

  “Until now, I hadn’t given it much thought. I spent so much time studying, then feeding my impossibly needy ego. Since my year of isolation and introspection, I think I know what I want. She’s hopefully cute and has a lust for life, smart, and witty. She’ll know her own mind, what she wants out of life with a plan to get it. She might be proud and confident, but in the end, I’ll know she needs and depends on me in a way she never lets anyone see.”

  “Have you ever found anyone remotely like that?” she asked, finally looking directly at me.

  “Keep your eyes on the road,” I instructed, doing my best to avoid the question. I suddenly felt bare and vulnerable. I had an inkling I just might have found her, and she was sitting right next to me. I wasn’t ready to tip my hand it that direction so soon, so I eased my seat back, pretending to be tired.

  “Are you going to sleep?” she asked, sounding only a little irritated.

  “Yeah, I’m getting a little road weary. I think I’ll try to doze for an hour or two. If you get tired, nudge me, and we can pull over at the next rest stop so I can drive the rest of the way. Unless you need me to stay awake?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day. We’ll switch places once we’re well into Kansas. Sweet dreams, Wyatt,” she finished softly.

  I was more tired than I thought because I fell asleep right away, dreaming of a sassy little brunette who’d stolen my heart.

  * * *

  We’d only reserved one room in the hotel, considering the new status of our relationship. It made me smile to think back to just a handful of days before when I was adamant about her staying in a hotel. I wasn’t sure what to make of my weakness for all things lustful. I briefly wondered if I really had learned anything at all, but one thing I did know was I trusted Clarisse. I didn’t think she’d ever do anything to damage my career or her own. She was just too level-headed. Nevertheless, if I was even going to make a half an effort to be her Dominant, I needed to get a grip on my self-control. Somehow.

  As soon as our luggage was unpacked, Clarisse immediately checked in with Gage and Stacy. They’d arrived earlier in the day, having been far more prepared than we were and taking an airplane, like smart people. Though the seats in my car were outrageously comfortable, ten hours in such a small space had given me a backache. I stretched out on the bed, relieving my discomfort while she prattled on with Stacy. She’d made sure all their work needs were met, then moved on to the subject of her upcoming marriage to Gage. Apparently, it was only a few weeks away. I tuned out, totally disinterested in their girly giggling, closing my eyes and just settling into the mattress.

  I must have dozed off because I nearly jumped a foot when Clarisse dropped onto the bed next to me with all the grace of a lumbering elephant.

  “I’m sorry, were you sleeping?” she said with an embarrassed smile.

  “I hadn’t planned to, but I guess I’m a little worn out from the trip.”

  “But you had a nap on the way here!” she said playfully while poking me in the ribs.

  “Hey, it wasn’t my idea to leave at oh-dark-thirty!” I said, pulling her pointy finger away from my side and kissing the tip of it. “Did you get everything squared away with Stacy and Gage?”

  “Indeed. We’re going to meet them for dinner later, so if you’re really tired, go ahead and get a few more hours,” she said with a yawn. “I think I could use a couple winks myself.”

  “Then come a little closer,” I said, curling my arms around her and dragging her against my chest. For the second time that day, I fell into a delightfully dream-filled sleep.

  “So, then Gage replied, ‘I’d be more than happy to sign your bosom, madame.’” Stacy said in her best impersonation of her fiancé’s voice. She was telling us the story of how they’d been set upon by an eager fan as soon as they entered the hotel. We were seated in a booth at a tiny bar down the street, having after-dinner cocktails.

  “Well, she did ask nicely,” Gage remarked as he slung his arm over his bride-to-be’s shoulders. “What else was I supposed to do?”

  “Uh, offer to give her a free book with your signature, maybe?” I offered helpfully. “I’d think you’d at least draw the line with autographing a senior citizen’s
tits.”

  “You know Gage,” Stacy chimed in. “He loves all attention, no matter who it’s from.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Gage said with a grin. “What about you, Chase? Have any crazy fan stories to tell?”

  I watched Wyatt’s eyes widen for a split second before he recovered and smiled his usual sexy grin.

  “No, can’t say that I do. I’ve had plenty of women ask me to sign their clothes or to sit in my lap and take pictures, but I have yet to have a grandmother pull her shirt up for me.”

  “Your day is coming,” Gage said, lifting his glass in salute. “Mark my words. Hell, the same lady might even corner you tomorrow at the event.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got Clarisse to suplex any fans who might get out of hand.”

  “That’s right. Lemme at ‘em,” I said, cracking my knuckles for show.

  “Clarisse is a pro at handling a crowd. You made a good choice when you hired her,” Gage said, looking at me and smiling.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice. In just a few days, she’s transformed my entire life,” Wyatt replied, also with a smile, but one that spoke volumes more than Gage’s ever would, at least to me. I took his hand under the table and squeezed it tightly. Stacy smiled at me knowingly while Gage just nodded his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. I’d have to come clean with him at some point.

  We didn’t linger too long over our drinks, none of us wanting to spend the next day trying to deal with the public with hangovers.

  * * *

  “Who knew Topeka had so many reading buffs?” Wyatt asked during an unusual lull in the stream of fans to my table.

  “What else is there to do out here?” If I had my choice of leisure activities in a place like this, you can bet your ass I’d be reading about much more exotic places filled with steamy sex and romance.