Twist Tied

by Guimond, Heather

  Sunday morning, I had no motivation whatsoever. Clarisse was heading home on Monday, so all I wanted to do was hold on to her as tightly as I could. She seemed to understand I needed to decompress and was all too happy to lay in bed with me. We binge watched hours of bad TV and ate all our meals in bed. She tried to interest me in some play time, but the last thing I wanted to do was engage my libido. It had gotten me into the whole mess in the first place—that and my fragile ego. I was already trying to soothe the same ego by avoiding any thoughts of my very public humiliation. I didn’t think adding sex to the mix would be anything but trying to solve my problem with the same problem.

  Clarisse’s flight home the next day was early, so we had just enough time to eat a quick breakfast and get her to the airport. We stood looking at each other just outside the entrance to ticketing. I could see she didn’t really want to leave, but I was ready to be alone for a little while. It had nothing to do with not wanting her company, per se, but I needed to make peace with what had happened at the signing, and her reassurance that everything was okay was just noise in my head. I knew she meant well and was being honest, but I was too deep in self-loathing to absorb her kind words.

  Taking her into my arms, I pulled her close and gave her a deep kiss, wanting to communicate my feelings for her the only way I could at the moment. She fell willingly into the kiss, but I tore myself away almost as soon as it started. I needed to get home.

  Clarisse frowned at me but reached down and gripped one of my hands.

  “It’s going to be okay, Wyatt,” she said, seemingly reading the torrent of emotions running through me.

  “Yeah,” I simply said. “Have a safe trip home, okay? Call me when you get settled.”

  “Will do,” she replied as she grabbed the handle to her suitcase and turned toward the entrance. I waited as she walked inside, wondering how she could still have any kind of loving feelings toward me.

  * * *

  I regained my bearings after a few days of stewing over my own idiocy and burying myself in my work. I spoke to Clarisse every night, recapping how many pages I’d written, her making sure I hit my word count goals for each day. One week bled into another with us following this routine. I knew she wanted me to come visit, was eager to make plans, but I still needed time.

  Finally, at the end of the third week, I felt more like myself. I’d finished the book and called her early in the afternoon to let her know I was about to shoot it over to her.

  “This is great!” she exclaimed once I’d shared the good news. “I can’t wait to dive in.”

  “In spite of everything, I think it’s pretty good. Just let me know where you think I can tighten it up.”

  “You know I’ll be nothing but honest with you,” she replied.

  “Now, we have more important matters to discuss,” I said suggestively.

  “We do?” she said, drawing out both syllables, a lilt in her voice at the end. She knew what I was about to say.

  “Mhmm. It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other. When would be a good time to visit? Or would you prefer to come back here?”

  “We could do either,” she giggled. “There’s more to do in my town than yours, but I don’t expect we’ll venture out into the world for at least a couple days. Not if I have anything to say about it. How long would you like to stay?”

  “At least a week if that’s okay with you.”

  “Wyatt, at this point, you could move in, and I’d be just fine with it. I’ve missed you so much,” she said exuberantly, making me laugh.

  “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. We’ve only been a couple for a month now.”

  “Don’t forget, I live in Las Vegas. People get married and divorced in far less time than that.”

  We agreed I’d take the next week to just kick back while she reviewed my manuscript. I’d fly out the following weekend with an open-ended ticket, and we’d play by ear how long I stayed. I had no intentions of launching into another book, and extended time with Clarisse would be good for our relationship.

  * * *

  We spent almost the entire first week in bed, only getting out for brief periods of time so Clarisse could handle minor issues for Gage and Stacy. While we were lounging in bed one morning, she explained Stacy knew about our relationship and had cheerfully agreed to pick up some of Clarisse’s slack.

  “Why doesn’t Gage know?” I asked, confused as to why she’d keep us a secret from him.

  “It’s not that I’m hiding it, per se, but I’m not looking forward to the lecture he’d give me,” she said, making a face.

  “Why would he give you a lecture?” I didn’t understand.

  “After all these years, he’s more like a big brother to me than my boss. He would feel responsible to caution me against mixing business and pleasure even though he and Stacy have both a personal and professional relationship,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Does he know about my past?” I asked, thinking that must be why he’d try to warn her off.

  “Not as far as I know. He’s never mentioned it, and I think he would have when I told him I was going to work for you if he did.”

  I relaxed a little but was still unhappy that someone so influential in Clarisse’s life might try to change her mind about me.

  “I can see on your face you’re worried,” Clarisse broke into my thoughts.

  “Well, yeah, I know you look up to him. I don’t want anyone trying to convince you we shouldn’t be together.”

  “You also know by now I make my own decisions. There’s nothing Gage Blackstone can do to put me off you.”

  “That’s very reassuring,” I said, pulling up the covers and throwing them over our heads for another round of enthusiastic lovemaking.

  * * *

  About the middle of the second week of my stay, I could see something was weighing on Clarisse’s mind over breakfast. She was deep in thought, a cloud seemingly hanging over her head.

  “What’s up, buttercup?” I asked, taking her hand as she dropped her fork onto her plate with a heavy sigh.

  “Well, you’ve been here for over a week now, and while it’s been great—I’m definitely not complaining—we haven’t really gotten up to any hijinks. The sex is phenomenal, but we’re not really making any progress on our path into depravity,” she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

  “I know, but it’s been good to get to know each other better physically.” While this was true, I’d kind of been avoiding anything kinky since I had genuine doubts I could be the demanding man she wanted me to be. I enjoyed what we had far too much, but I knew that I needed to at least try to be what she was looking for.

  “Well, I didn’t bring our toys with me since I didn’t want TSA sorting through them. Do you want to go buy a stash for your place?” I offered, thinking that would be right up our alley. We could invest in some items for more intense playtime, maybe even a swing although that might be better suited to my place since Clarisse rented her apartment. I was lost in thought over the idea, considering we travel back to Santa Fe just for that purpose.

  “I really think we need to consider venturing out into the BDSM scene if we really want to do this. We could find a pair of mentors to help us along. I’ve been researching kink clubs and dungeons in the area, and I think I’ve found a good one,” she replied, the enthusiasm in her voice building.

  “I really don’t know,” I said, my doubts about my abilities to master her the way she wanted creeping in. I really didn’t want an audience for what might be my biggest failure of all time. My ego had taken enough hits over the last fourteen months. I didn’t need to go looking for more.

  “Wyatt, what’s up? You always seem to back off when I even get close to the subject. Don’t you even want to try or was that all bullshit?”

  “No, of course not. Please, just indulge me a little while longer. Let’s go to one of the adult stores and pick up a few more items. We can do even more research online about the p
hilosophies and maybe even find some instructional videos available online.”

  “This isn’t a DIY project. It’s not like we can just go to YouTube and search for ‘How to be a Dom and sub.’”

  “Are you sure? Have you tried?” I snickered, trying to make a joke. I was rewarded with a slap on my arm.

  “Be serious, will you? Let’s compromise. We can go look for some kinky toys today if you agree to visit one of the local clubs here this weekend.”

  I didn’t think I was going to get a better offer, so I agreed.

  * * *

  That afternoon, we were in one of the sleazy buildings with blacked-out windows just off the strip, inspecting a wide variety of dildos. At the moment, I was holding an enormous, yet surprisingly flexible one. I wiggled it at Clarisse’s face, poking her intermittently in the cheek.

  “Would you knock it off,” she laughed. “We’re supposed to be serious about this.”

  “C’mon. Don’t you want to give this bad boy a try?”

  “No, I don’t. I like ‘em a little firmer than that. Why on Earth would anyone want a dildo that seems to be suffering from whiskey dick?” she asked as she grabbed it from my hand and wiggled it back at me before tossing it back into the rack.

  “I don’t know, maybe some people like their kink on the softer side,” I replied as we moved further down the aisle. I picked up a ball gag in a thick plastic case and waved it at her. “This might come in handy in a variety of situations.”

  “Oh, is that right?” she asked dryly, shooting me a look daring me to tell her she had a big mouth.

  “Or not,” I said as I hung it back on the peg I took it from.

  We meandered through the store, finally settling on some silken ropes, a thick blindfold, this prickly wheel thingy that Clarisse explained was really a medical instrument for testing nerve endings, and another paddle. She’d fingered a frightening looking cat-o'-nine-tails thoughtfully, but I quickly steered her away. There was no way I’d wield something so formidable against her with absolutely no experience behind me.

  * * *

  Once we got back to her place, Clarisse was digging through the bags with unbridled enthusiasm. It was fun to watch her enjoy with the glee of a child—albeit one with unusual interests, but I had this trepidation creeping in on me. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested, it was just that as time passed, the more I grew to see Clarisse in a way that seemed anything but submissive. It was hard to wrap my mind around trying to dominate someone with such a forceful personality. Sure, I had my own fantasies about kinky play. I was quite up to that task, but I found myself wanting a more mutual experience. A complete power exchange in my favor just didn’t sound as appealing with someone like her. I loved the take charge attitude she had in every other aspect of her life. That alone turned me on. She was a confident woman, and I found myself often fantasizing of her manhandling me again. It was intoxicating when she just took the lead without any thought but satiating the hunger inside her. That got me harder than anything. Just thinking about it, I felt the initial stirrings of arousal, my cock already beginning to harden. My increasingly obvious state was not lost on Clarisse. She held up the ropes and blindfold, her eyes trained directly on my crotch.

  “Someone is interested in a little playtime, I see. What do you say to giving this stuff a try?”

  The ropes and blindfold didn’t intimidate me at all, and though I might have rather had her rip my pants down in a fit of sexual rage and take me into her hungry mouth, I wasn’t averse to tying her up and torturing her with my tongue. She had the sweetest pussy I’d ever tasted.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” I asked as I circled behind her to kiss her neck. I reached around her body and gently squeezed her tits, making her moan in desire.

  “Follow me,” she said, pulling on one of my hands and leading me to her bedroom.

  She didn’t have a head or footboard, so tying her up was going to take some creativity. I pushed it to the back of my mind for the moment, taking in a deep breath in an effort to ready myself for the part I knew she wanted me to play.

  I took the restraints and blindfold from her, holding them tightly in my hand.

  “Strip,” I commanded firmly, the certainty in my voice surprising me. I watched her eyes widen with excitement before she quickly undressed. In no time, she was standing naked in front of me, her pupils dilated and breathing quicker than normal. Her enthusiasm was palpable, and I felt myself grow to full attention.

  Reaching down to cup myself through my jeans, I just stood back and enjoyed the sight of her. The lips of her pussy were already beginning to gleam with moisture. I stroked myself absently, fascinated as I watched her begin to tremble.

  “Lie down,” I said, finally remembering I was in command of this interlude.

  “Face up or down?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Face up,” I replied, an idea sparking in my head.

  She did as I asked, her breathing coming even faster now as she licked her lips in anticipation of whatever was about to happen.

  I picked up a length of rope, coiled and knotted it around one ankle, then quickly secured the other end to one of the casters on her bed. I repeated the process with the other ankle. I debated for a moment whether I wanted her hands free or not. I loved the feeling of her fingernails scoring my back as she’d drag them down the length to dig them into my ass cheeks. It always took me straight to the edge. However, I decided we’d do a little role play while we were at it, so I bound both wrists together and raised her arms over her head. I couldn’t deny she looked magnificent, trussed up like that, her body beginning to shimmer with a light sheen of perspiration.

  “Now, you’re my captive,” I boldly informed her. “Close your eyes and imagine I’ve abducted you from your favorite bar, brought you back to an abandoned warehouse with nothing but a shoddy mattress inside, then trussed you up like you were nothing more than a sack of meat.”

  The fire that ignited in her eyes nearly made me unload right then.

  I quickly shed my clothes before climbing astride her body and caressing her all over. I tantalized every single inch of her flesh, feeling her squirm and try to writhe against me as I did. I found myself enjoying her feeble attempt to struggle, so I quickly climbed off her and plucked what I’d learned was called a Wartenberg wheel out of the bag. I stood over her, watching with rapt attention at her response when I ran it up and down the length of both arms. She moaned softly, making me wonder what sensations it was producing for her. I pulled back and ran it over my palm, feeling the slight tingle it produced. If it felt that interesting against my hand, how would it feel if I found other, more sensitive areas on her body to tease?

  Without any hesitation, I ran it over the swell of each breast, closely watching as her skin began to prickle with goosebumps. Growing bolder, I ran it over one tightly peaked nipple, delighted with the plaintive whimper coming from Clarisse. I repeated it on the other side.

  “I knew you were a bad girl when I saw you in that bar,” I said, putting on my gruffest voice. “I knew you were waiting for someone like me to come along and punish you for all your sins.”

  “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said huskily. “I was just minding my own business. You don’t have to do this. It’s not too late to stop.”

  “Oh, the moment I laid eyes on you, it was too late. Now be quiet. If you make a sound, your punishment will be so much worse.”

  “Y-yes, Sir,” she replied breathlessly.

  I tossed the wheel to the side, then straddled her torso. Taking myself into my own fist, I gave my cock three quick pumps before tapping it against her parted lips. Her tongue darted out, flicking against the swollen crown before I pulled it away.

  “Did I tell you that you could taste me?”

  “No. You didn’t. I’m sorry,” she replied, casting her shining eyes downward. If I had to guess, she was really into this abduction fantasy. It was coming quite easily to me, too, but
then, using my imagination had never been my problem. I was worried about trying to achieve this kind of power over her outside the bedroom, in addition to my intimidation at the more complicated forms of sensual torture she was looking for.

  I lightly slapped my cock against her cheek before taking a finger and pulling her jaw down. Once her mouth was open wide enough, I slipped the head of my dick between her plump lips, throwing my head back as she quickly swirled her tongue over me. I pushed in deeper, going slow so as not to choke her, but she seemed all too eager to take as much as I wanted to give. She sucked hard on my cock, moaning around the shaft as if it were the best meal she’d ever had. I indulged us both for a few moments before quickly withdrawing.

  “You’re an even more wicked girl than I thought,” I said, my voice grating against the sensual atmosphere we’d been creating. “You’re not supposed to enjoy this. You’re a wicked little slut, aren’t you?”

  She nodded softly, feigning embarrassment at her wanton enjoyment of what I was doing to her. I reached down and slipped a finger between her glistening pink lips, finding her more soaked than I’d ever felt before—not with her and not with any woman before her.

  “You should be ashamed,” I said, holding up my now wet fingers before sucking them into my mouth. “I need to do something about this, you need a valuable lesson that you’ll never forget.”

  Climbing back up on the bed, positioning myself between her widely spread thighs, I angled myself with the center and pushed right in, not giving her a moment to adjust. I just hovered over her, thrusting without any thought to making it good for her. I felt the moment carry me away, lost in the idea I had my very own girl-toy to play with as long as I wanted.