Best Bondage Erotica 2012

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Foreword

  Introduction

  MELTING ICE

  A NIGHT AT THE OPERA

  DARLENE’S DILEMMA

  SNOW WHITE

  TROPHY BOYFRIEND

  THE SPIDER AND THE FLY

  TIED DOWN

  THE CUPBOARD UNDER THE STAIRS

  SUFFER FOR ME

  DRY RUB

  WORTH REDEMPTION

  LACED

  PAWNS

  CUMANÁ

  GOOD BRITISH STEEL

  PARTING WAYS

  KNOT ALONE

  THE INSURRECTION

  THE TIPPING POINT

  AS LONG AS YOU DON’T WAKE ME

  THE WEIGHT

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  ABOUT THE EDITOR

  More from Rachel Kramer Bussel

  Erotica for Every Kink

  Copyright Page

  FOREWORD:

  USE THIS BOOK FOR YOUR KINK LIFE

  Seething—the passion stirs just beneath the skin.

  Engrossing—the desires capture and take possession.

  Arousing—the senses take fire, fueling desire.

  Lust for bondage does that to people. In this book, you’ll read what happens to those who give in to their cravings.

  At once taboo yet ubiquitous, bondage is the stuff of fantasy for a shockingly large segment of the population. The next time you’re sitting in a café, or walking down the street, ponder those around you. Who may be harboring such dark desires as are found in these pages? Is it the black-clad hipster with the latest gadget? Maybe it’s the mom with kids in a stroller. Could it be the prim matron with her “ladies who lunch”? Many of these clandestine bondage lovers have even taken the big leap to turn their hidden fantasies into flesh-straining, sheet-drenching reality.

  Have you taken that leap? Would you?

  If not, why? There are risks, to be sure. But what’s life if not lived with some risk? Behind every reason for avoidance of erotic adventure and sensual fulfillment lies fear. What do you fear? Does the thought of unbridled pleasure frighten you?

  As you read these tales, put yourself in the characters’ shoes, bonds, boots or collars. Which adventure would you be willing to take? What would it take for you to go there?

  While some of the stories in here come wholly cut from the cloth of pure fantasy, I’d wager that more than a few are based on real-life kinky escapades. I might know which ones those are, but I’m not telling. You’ll just have to read through each one and speculate.

  Then contemplate if you could endure the delicious torments described on page after page. If you long to be captured, would you moan and writhe as the protagonist did? Or would you carry on stoically? Would you simply combust with unimaginable pleasure?

  If you crave to seize and seduce, could you be as clever as these wicked tops? Would you be able to delay your primal urge long enough to devise slow, sweet anguish? Which of these Dominants would you want to co-top with? Or perhaps your desires are darker and more depraved than you would care to admit.

  As you turn from one story to another, pay attention to the stirring between your legs. If, when reading some stories, your mind protests, but your sex swells and throbs, give particular focus to these tales. They’ll reveal your hidden appetites. I hope you’ll delight in them.

  Bondage is a pleasure of the mind just as much as it is of the flesh. When it comes to actualizing our desires, all too often we focus on the actions rather than the intricacies of the mental and emotional joyride. To go deeper and fly higher in bound delight, we should ask “why” we want to do this, just as much as “what” or “how.” While purportedly fictional, these stories give crucial insights into what makes some experiences positively explosive.

  If you’ve ever wondered what makes your partner tick, how to make a scene hotter, or you are just unsure of what to do with all the gear, read these stories. You’ll get fabulous ideas.

  For a truly devious way to exploit this book for your erotic advantage, share this book with your lover…or lover-to-be. Whether you gift it to him outright or simply leave it lying around for her accidental leisurely perusing, it’s sure to spark some interest. If you are a particularly adept lover, seduce him through the act of “aural sex”—read these tales to your lover, slowly and sensually. Preferably holding the book with one hand while pleasuring your lover with the other. Or perhaps read aloud to your lovers while they’re bound so tightly they have no way to relieve the sexual tension that you’re building up in them. Maybe you’ll take pleasure in having them read to you while they blush and squirm. If they intersperse the stories with their own bondage confession, you’ve hit the jackpot!

  If, on the other hand, you happen to have found this lying around your lover’s home in some conspicuous place, he or she is trying to tell you something.

  Many tales will set you on fire. Some may be less to your taste. But each sexy bondage tale shared with your lover is another door opened to his or her erotic mindscape. Knowing how to navigate the dark back alleys of your lover’s mind is an invaluable skill as a deliciously devious lover.

  Wishing you pleasures and delights!

  Midori

  INTRODUCTION:

  TYING MEN UP: DOMINANT WOMEN STORM THE PAGES

  I was surprised this year to see that, unlike with previous anthologies in this series, the overwhelming majority of stories submitted to Best Bondage Erotica 2012 involved women tying up and tormenting men. It was a theme I couldn’t ignore, and you will see it heavily represented in these pages. I’ve pondered why exactly that theme showed up at this time, and while I don’t have any firm conclusions, I can say that the range of scenarios you’ll find here showcase a wide range of ingenuity.

  What I especially appreciate is that we get to see a variety of dominant women, some exacting a kind of (consensual) revenge, some giving eager men exactly what they deserve, as with the couple in Teresa Noelle Roberts’s “Suffer for Me.” She writes:I began with his nipple.

  When I caught it in between my long red fingernails, he braced himself for a twist, a cruel pinch. I could see in his wide, entreating eyes that he both feared and hoped for it.

  Instead, I caressed first one then the other with all the delicacy I could muster, applying just enough pressure so it pleasured rather than tickled. Then I took one into my mouth, licking and sucking and teasing the little nub, nipping down enough to vary the kind of pleasure he experienced, but not enough to push it over into real pain.

  This narrator, who we know only as “Ma’am,” is exploring the delight of being in charge, of plotting out what she will do to make Martin “suffer,” and it’s a delicious tale, one of many, of a woman coming into her own erotic power, with a willing, deserving man at her mercy.

  And even though Terry in Giselle Renarde’s “Dry Rub” is not quite as eager a bondage participant as Martin, it’s clear that while he is not at first in on the plan, he too is getting off, in his own way. That is the beauty, to me, of bondage: when even what seems like a punishment can turn into a delightful, demanding and delicious torment, one you may not know why you like, but your body cannot lie. Instead, it’s Gina’s turn to enjoy the fact that she can have her husband any way she wants him. “She still had a grip on his hair, and his face looked so pitiful in her hands that she almost wanted to laugh. He was desperate, poor boy, and she wouldn’t give in. Tonight he was a tool of her pleasure, nothing more.”

  Speaking of ingenuity, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the bold, gutsy, brilliant characters you’ll read about here who are so obsessed with bondage they’ll even tie themselves up to experience that delicious, chilling
thrill. In Shoshanna Evers’s opening story “Melting Ice,” Amanda constructs a careful experiment in the art of self-bondage, one she’s been dreaming about for years. “She’d been so ready for this. The entire afternoon had been her foreplay.”

  In “Parting Ways,” Tenille Brown shows us that you don’t have to be the binder or the bondee to enjoy the sight of a man squirming and writhing. Anyone who’s been tied up and exulted in the thrilling frustration of it will relate when she writes, “Derek shivered with the need to break free. He bit his bottom lip at the pleasure of being unable to.”

  While there is plenty of female domination in these pages, for those who want to read about women who delight in the submissive satisfaction of being trapped by a Dominant’s mind, there’s plenty of that here, too. In Kay Jaybee’s “The Cupboard Under the Stairs,” the not knowing what will happen next is all part of the fun. “A fresh surge of uncertainty zipped through Kristi. She’d thought the blindfold was the change in routine. It seemed she was wrong.” That love/hate relationship many subs feel is captured in Helen Sedgwick’s “Cumaná” when she writes, “I didn’t know if I should be enjoying this, if I should make him stop, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t, the tight pinching on my nipples at once unbearable and intoxicating.” Indeed, “unbearable and intoxicating” could also describe events in all of the stories in this naughty little book.

  Bondage comes vividly alive in these twenty-four tales of everything from corsets to cling wrap, from couples dedicated to bondage to those just discovering its pleasures. You’ll find a range of stories from playful to perverse that I hope will give you some new ideas to try out—in your mind and beyond.

  Rachel Kramer Bussel

  New York City

  MELTING ICE

  Shoshanna Evers

  Amanda Scott’s hand trembled so much when she tried to unlock the front door to her townhouse that she missed the keyhole not once, but twice. The brown cardboard box, discreet in its anonymity, balanced precariously under her armpit on top of her Louis Vuitton bag.

  She had taken the afternoon off work. In her excitement, she forgot to even pretend to sound sick when she left early. She hadn’t realized she wouldn’t want to go back to the office after the package arrived. She always had packages shipped to her office since she was never home to receive them, and had placed a lot of trust in the website she ordered from that their package would indeed be without identifying markers on it.

  Amanda stepped inside and locked the door behind her, then hesitated. What if something went wrong? She unlocked it. Just in case.

  The brown cardboard package felt so light. She set it down on the dining room table and took her coat off, barely able to contain her excitement. Opening the box, she lifted the gleaming metal handcuffs out of their packaging. A rush of excitement went through her at the feel of the cold stainless steel in her hands.

  She’d done so much research already, planning this out. If she wanted to experience her first self-bondage tonight, then she had some preparations to make.

  There were two keys that came with the handcuffs. One she set aside—she’d use it to practice unlocking herself with. She carried the second key into the kitchen, where she opened the large stainless steel freezer door and peered inside. The ice-cube tray was full so she took a single cube out to make space. Hmmm, she thought as she held the ice in her hand. I wonder how long it takes a single cube to melt? Grabbing a bowl from the drying rack, she dropped the ice in and glanced at the clock. It was 1:36 p.m., and the beginning of her experiment.

  Dropping one handcuff key into the empty spot in the ice-cube tray, she filled it with hot water from the tap, since she’d read that hot water, strangely enough, froze faster. And this water can’t freeze fast enough, she thought as she put it back in the freezer compartment and shut the gleaming silver door.

  Taking the bowl containing the single ice cube into the living room, she sat on the couch and watched the ice. It hadn’t even begun to melt. How long would it take? Just the idea that it would be a while turned her on.

  Because tonight, she was going to be handcuffed, unable to free herself, until the cube with the key in it melted. Her pussy clenched in anticipation.

  While she waited for the handcuff key to freeze in the tray, she took the second key upstairs with the cuffs to practice.

  She was so turned on that just walking made her clit rub against the seam in her pants, and she had to stop and take a deep, shaky breath. Save it for later, she told herself.

  There was a simple floral comforter on a queen-sized bed in the center of her bedroom, positioned to accentuate the feng shui of the space. She had paid handsomely for a beautiful wrought-iron bed frame with lots of decorative swirls, imagining how her future boyfriend would make use of it to tie her up.

  But there was no boyfriend and hadn’t been for a long time. And when there was a man in the picture, somehow Amanda couldn’t quite find the courage to reveal her basest desires.

  With self-bondage, there was no way out if things went wrong. No one to save her. No safewords to stop the game. She supposed that should have made her less interested in trying it out, but instead it made her even more turned on. The thought of being completely bound and truly helpless made her wet.

  She took the cuffs to the bed and snapped one cuff around her wrist, shivering with excitement at the sound of the metal clicking into place, even though her other hand was still free and holding the key.

  She pressed her wrists together, pretending both her hands were cuffed, and practiced using the key in that awkward position to unlock the cuffs and free herself. It was so simple she laughed.

  Downstairs, she watched the clock, determined to wait two whole hours to make sure her ice was fully frozen around the key. In the meantime, the other ice cube she had set aside in a dish took one hour and forty-five minutes to melt completely. That was surprising—who knew it would take one measly cube so long to melt?

  She kicked the thermostat up a few degrees. That way she’d be comfortable naked, and the ice would melt a bit faster. She wasn’t sure how much faster—but there was no time for another experiment. The key was frozen in the ice, and if she didn’t get to come now she thought she might die.

  Soon, she knew she’d have more than her fill of orgasms—because she was going to cuff herself to the bed with a vibrator tied to her. The thought alone was enough to make her panties damp. Plucking the cube with the key frozen dead set in the center out of its tray, she slipped the ice into a shallow custard dish and carried it upstairs to the bedroom, placing it by her pillow. The clock was ticking, the ice imperceptibly melting already.

  Amanda stripped off her slacks and cotton button-down blouse, kicking off her low heels. Sitting tucked away in her underwear drawer was her favorite toy: a pink dildo with rolling beads in the perfect place, and an attached clit vibrator that looked like a bunny, the long bunny ears buzzing to life and the entire dildo rotating enticingly as she flicked on the wireless remote, checking the batteries. She shut it off. Save it, she thought. For the bondage.

  There was no need for lube; she was so wet the length of the dildo slid inside her easily even as it stretched her. Next she pulled her tightest jeans over her naked cunt, trapping the vibrator in place against her flesh. Holding the grey wireless remote in her hand, she brought it with the handcuffs over to the bed.

  The ice was still frozen, not even shimmering wet yet on the outer surface. Suddenly she was frightened. What if she was cuffed to the bed and she changed her mind, and wanted to be set free, but had no choice but to wait until the ice melted?

  The thought was terrifying—and such a turn-on that she thought she might come right then, even with the vibrator off. The dildo in her pussy nudged her as she squirmed, and she smiled.

  Amanda rechecked, one last time, that the key in the ice was in easy reach of her hands. She placed her cordless phone by her pillow as well, within reach, just in case she had to call the police or something. She’d never
do so, of course, but she’d done enough research to know that things could go wrong. She supposed she should call a friend to let him know he should check up on her in a few hours, but since she’d never done that before, the conversation was bound to be awkward. So that wasn’t going to happen.

  It was time. Lying back across her floral comforter, she cuffed one wrist, pulled the other cuff through behind the iron bed frame and took a deep breath. The key was within reach, encased in ice. She tossed the second key she’d been practicing with across the room. It made a little sound when it hit something, probably her dresser. The remote to her vibrator was in her hand. Okay. Now.

  She cuffed her other wrist, feeling the satisfying click as it snapped in place. And then she thumbed the remote to the vibrator, starting off by making the dildo inside her pussy slowly circle. It hit her G-spot perfectly and she gasped as it automatically rotated away, and then back again, pressing her G-spot once more. Then again.

  She turned the vibrating bunny ears on low, moaning as it came to life, buzzing directly on her swollen clit.

  She’d been so ready for this. The entire afternoon had been her foreplay. She thumbed the remote in her cuffed hand and pushed the vibrator to high, coming instantly, the orgasm pulsing through her body. She turned her head toward the pillow, thrashing, and screamed in ecstasy.

  This was the moment, once she’d had her orgasm, that she usually called it quits.

  She’d always loved the idea of being bound, forced to orgasm over and over again. It was her go-to fantasy, one that played out in her mind night after night. She’d often pretended, even going so far as to wear the very same vibrator in her with the same tight jeans over it, grasping the top of the headboard and vowing to herself that she wouldn’t let go until the alarm she’d set went off.

  She never made it more than a moment or so past the first orgasm, even if it had only been a few minutes. Feeling the vibrations against her overstimulated clit always inspired her to let go of the headboard, despite her best intentions, and tear her jeans off, turning off the vibrator.