My wife, Janice, has no shame.  That is the principle difference 
between us.  In almost everything we are alike.  We both are sexual 
dominants with our own submissives.  We both like cartoons and we both 
enjoy French singers over talent less American singers.  We both pour 
our creativity in sexual pursuits, me with my erotic story writing and 
she with her nude paintings of her male submissives.  

As alike as we are, I prefer to keep my private life private 
while Janice sees no reason to hide what she does.  As a web designer, 
she can afford that luxury.  Clients expect their computer experts to 
be weird and when they see Janice's handcuff motif bracelets and her 
bullwhip ponytail holder, they are reassured to know she's a sexual 
deviant and not someone who is going to steal their credit cards.

I on the other hand like to keep a low profile.  My job involves 
book reviews and the last thing I want my readers to know is that the 
man who is flaming the latest offering from new York would rather be 
enflaming some young woman's ass instead.  Readers have powerful 
preconceptions, something I discovered the hard way last summer.

Last summer, Janice brought a friend over from work to help with 
a new webpage she was making for a client.  Tina had come over before, 
and was used to the erotic paintings we had around the house.  I liked 
to watch her blush underneath her glasses when we notice her staring a 
little long at one of Janice's more explicit works.  Tina was one of 
those pale redheads who were a smidge overweight, giving her already 
pale skin a luminous glow.  That glow would deepen into an embarrassed 
pink when she blushed that would come close to matching the color of 
her strawberry blonde hair.

I sat in the living room, flipping through the bills when I 
overheard Tina ask Janice a question about a disk.

"This one's marked 'Top Priority', is this the disk you're 
looking for?"

"Nope," Janice said casually as she shuffled through more disks.  
"That's just Richard's stories that I need to make update his website 
with."

I froze.  It's strange.  I can rip apart a writer's book and 
admonish a sub for forgetting a command, but I still get nervous when 
someone finds out my hobby.  Maybe it's why I'm just a reviewer and not 
a professional writer.

 "I didn't know he wrote too," Tina said.

"Sure, he writes all the time," Janice replied, still shuffling 
through her files.  "It's just that he keeps writing porn instead of 
something commercial.  He posts them to the newsgroups and on his 
webpage for free.  Richard gets lots of fanmail, so I know he's good.  
He just won't write anything mainstream where he could get paid for 
it."

"Here's the disk!" Janice sighed, and that was the end of the 
conversation.  They resumed work on the new page and I breathed a sigh 
of relief.  People act strange sometimes when they discover you write 
erotic stories.  One female friend warned me outright to never use her 
in a story even though we have never had any sort of sexual contact.  
She just suspected that a writer would use her image or her name 
without asking.  Another friend wanted me to write sex stories about 
him and his wife like I was pornographer for hire.  I suspected that 
people thought erotic writers were constantly casting real people for 
their sex stories.  They don't understand how close and far away from 
the truth they were.

Later, at dinner, I reminded Janice how much I hate it when she 
brought up my writing to strangers.

"I don't get it," Janice countered.  "You write porn and you tie 
willing women up.  You like going to S&M parties but you're in the 
closet over writing about it?"

"Writing is more personal," I tired to explain.  "When I go to a 
S&M party, I project who I am, and the women I have been with have seen 
the real me.  When I write, I experiment.  I tell my stories in the 
first person, but because in some stories I'm trying to prove a point, 
the narrator isn't whom I am.  If I write from the point of view of an 
abusive, evil dominant, its to show how egotistical a dominant can be, 
but I get fanmail the next day from strangers who think I was speaking 
my mind.  That's fine, if they can't understand truth from fiction, 
that's their problem because I'll never meet them.  When people that we 
know personally can't understand that difference, then it causes 
problems."

Janice shrugged.  "If they can't understand that your stories are 
fiction, then we don't need them as friends."

"Maybe I just don't want to find out the truth about the people I 
know," I said.

"Well, we're going to find out about Tina," Janice laughed.  "She 
borrowed your disk."

I just looked at her.  It was times like these that my wife was 
lucky to be tall, blonde and beautiful because it made it impossible to 
stay mad at her.  She can always placate me with a sinful smile.

"I believe that disk had all of your S&M stories," Janice said.  
"Even those mean ones you told me to post under your other pseudonym."

I had to laugh.  "I'm sorry, I hope Tina doesn't stop talking to 
you.  Those stories were kind of harsh."

Janice shrugged again.  "I think she's always been curious.  I 
always catch her sneaking peeks at 'Whipped'."

My eyes flitted to Janice's best painting.  It was a black and 
white of her submissive from a few years ago.  Brad was kneeling with 
his hands behind his back.  He had angelic wings sprouting from his 
back but his head was bent down in total subservience.  A whip was 
coiled around his huge, hard cock.  It was the closest Janice had ever 
come to capturing the joy inherent in domination.

"So, maybe she just likes Brad's equipment," I laughed.  Brad's 
massive cock was the only reason Janice kept him around for three 
months instead of discarding his whining personality within a week.  
Janice had defended herself by saying that every domme should have a 
well-hung submissive just once, so they could appreciate how little 
size matters in a happy submissive relationship.

Janice smiled sinfully and I felt myself stir.  "I'll bet you a 
good spanking that Tina is more interested in the lifestyle than Brad's 
anatomy.  Before the week is out, she'll send you a fanmail."

I raised my glass for the toast.  "It's a bet."

Tina ended up surprising us both.  She never sent me a fanmail 
but the next weekend, she came by the apartment to drop off some books.  
I deliberately stayed in the study when she came over.  If she was 
avoiding me, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable because I really 
was concerned about Janice losing a friend.  Little did I know how far 
Tina was going to surprise us- she asked Janice if I was busy because 
she wanted to compliment me on my stories.

I was writing when she came in and to be honest, I was simply 
stunned when I saw her at the door.  After offering her a chair I sat 
down to discover what every writer fears.  I found out what she 
thought.

"Your stories have been on my mind all week," Tina said, a little 
flustered.  "They're very good."  She pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up 
nervously.

I smiled.  "Thank you," I said warmly.  "I had such a wide range 
of stories on that disk, I wasn't sure if you would like them all."

She blushed and her pale skin took on that red glow I liked so 
much.  "There was quite a variety," she said hesitantly.  "I didn't 
understand how you could write something that made bondage look so 
romantic in one story, and then cruel in the next."

My own hesitations melted away.  It's an old secret about 
writers.  We'll warm up to anyone who wants to discuss our stories.  
I've exchanged e-mails with assholes that hated my stuff just to have 
someone to get feedback from.

"Because bondage isn't a theme, or something that can be done 
right," I said.  "To me, bondage and submission is just an act that can 
be done by many types of people.  Sometimes it can be sweet and slow, 
and other times, it can just be a means to get your rocks off."

Tina blushed again and shifted in her chair.  She unconsciously 
pulled at the hem of her skirt when she laughed.  I think she was 
surprised at how crude language can get with porn writers.

"I saw that," she said after a moment.  "I've always thought 
bondage was leather hoods and gothic chains.  You made it sound like 
fun."

I laughed again.  "Fun is a goal of mine as a writer, but I hope 
I also evoked deeper emotions."

Tina started to say something but stopped.  She unfolded and 
crossed her legs again, and my imagination flashed an image of how much 
she may have enjoyed my stories.  I could just picture her, sitting at 
her computer, the text reflecting off her glasses as she unzipped her 
pants . . .

I shook my head from the daydream.  Tina had gathered the courage 
to speak and as a fan, she had my full attention.

"I wanted to ask for something, and Janice already said it was 
all right," Tina began.

This time, I resisted the smile.  If Janice had said it was all 
right, it could only be for something that she could brag about later.  
Out of all the possibilities, I guessed at what it could have been and 
listened.

"Would you mind writing a story for me?  I love the way you 
write, and I've had an interest in this kind of stuff, but I've never 
had the guts to try it."

I guessed right.

"And having me write it would be a way for you to try it by 
proxy?" I asked.

She nodded.  I shook my head and tried to think of how to explain 
it.  I've given this speech a dozen times in e-mail, but it was much 
harder face-to-face.  It was even harder when I noticed how green her 
eyes were; their sparkle demanded a story in their own right.

"When I first started writing, I used to do these kinds of 
requests for fans," I began.  "Fans were never happy with what I gave 
them.  They also had a complaint here or there, usually over something 
I over embellished that wasn't important to them."

I could see her about to protest that she wouldn't complain but I 
didn't let her speak.  "But then I wrote a story for a submissive of 
mine."  

Tina blushed again.  It was just as beautiful as all of her 
earlier blushes even though I was always annoyed by how other people 
got embarrassed by how open my marriage was.  To Janice and me, the 
fact that we had sex with other people was nothing to be embarrassed 
about.

Regaining my focus, I continued.  "When I wrote a story for 
Angela, my sub, she called it perfect.  I thought it was just flattery 
until she explained why she loved it.  She said I got everything right, 
that I had told a story about us, brought up things she hadn't noticed 
before but they were there.  That's when I realized the difference 
between truth and fiction."

"You can only write the truth?" Tina asked.

I laughed.  "Good grief, no.  It's all fiction.  The difference 
is what the reader wants.  The reader wants it to be personal.  If the 
character is someone they don't know, then they identify with the 
character and fill in the blanks.  If I say a woman is busty and 
nothing else, then everyone from a skinny endowed woman to a chubby 
woman with big breasts can relate to the girl.  The reader adds their 
own fiction to mine."

"Where it gets tricky is where my fiction conflicts with my 
readers," I said.  "I get a request to do a bondage scene in a mall, 
then I think the requester is an exhibitionist and I do a story where a 
submissive is exposed in a mall setting.  Sadly, the reader thinks of 
their alter-ego as someone who just wants to wear bondage under their 
clothes and is upset to have themselves humiliated, even in fiction."

Tina frowned, making little dimples rise.  "Then it's just a 
matter of being specific in what I want."

"Not quite," I corrected.  "I thought the same thing too, but 
there's another secret about writers: we can only write about things we 
truly want to write about.  My mailbox is filled with requests from 
websites to write stories to fit a certain mold, and I still can't do 
it.  It must be the dominant in me, but I have to be true to myself 
when I write.  I write like I like my sex, it has to be my way."

"Then how did you please you sub?" Tina asked.  She leaned 
forward and her stubborn desire appealed to me.  This women wanted a 
story from me, and she wasn't taking no for an answer but she stayed 
respectful.  

"Because I wrote a story about my true interests, but using the 
fictions that she wanted.  As my submissive, I knew the fictions she 
wanted better than she did.  A story is a meeting between writer and 
reader, but a story that features the reader is far more intimate."

I leaned back, knowing I forget all of the details of my argument 
but I was satisfied that she understood.  She pulled at the hem of her 
dress in silence as she thought about what I said.  It was never easy 
to let a fan down over e-mail, it was far harder to do it in person.

As we sat in silence, my mind wondered over her body.  I'd seen 
her dozens of times before, but only as my wife's friend.  With my 
sexual tastes, I don't bother to fantasize about women that I think 
aren't submissive but of course, I saw Tina differently now.  Her extra 
weight smoothed the angles of her body as well as blessing her with a 
generous bust and round ass.  She was one of those imperfect beauties 
who would never grace a magazine cover but would be a welcome addition 
to any man's bed.  

Now it was I crossing my legs.

"Oh well, I had to ask," Tina said as she stood up.

"I'm very flattered," I said as I stood with her.  "I just rather 
save you the disappointment."

"I'm sorry you don't have the interest in me," Tina said, a touch 
of sadness in her voice.

"I never said that," I said, as I looked her straight in the eye.  
"I just don't know you well enough."

She said nothing, so I took a chance.

"Besides, you never know," I offered.  "I could just be full of 
shit and change my mind tomorrow and write you a long epic."

That made her smile, and she was still smiling when she rejoined 
Janice.

~~~

	"Do her," Janice said after we were done.  My erection was fading 
and still buried in her tight sex.

	"You know the rules," I chided.  "No talking about other lovers 
during penetration."

	She wiggled her hips and my cock pulled out of her, trailing a 
mess down her leg.

	"There, now please, do my friend," Janice asked again.

	I laughed.  "She never asked for that.  She just wants a story."

	"Bullshit," Janice said simply.  "You told me what you told her 
and not once did you mention her saying 'never mind, I didn't know sex 
was required'.  That girl wants try bondage, and after reading your 
stories, she trusts you to intiate her."

	I thought about it.  "It would be weird," I said.  "I've written 
stories for my women who were my subs, I've never dominated a woman who 
was a fan first."

	Janice turned and rested her head on my chest.  "Wow, I didn't 
know you had performance anxiety.  Afraid the truth won't measure up to 
your fiction?"

	I growled and then laughed.  "Maybe."

	"Ha!" Janice said triumphantly.  "Now you're going to wonder."

	She didn't know I was already wondering about Tina for far more 
explicit reasons.

~~~

	I decided to give Tina a starring role in her story.  To begin 
matters, I sent her an e-mail that I thought would get her attention.  
In writing, we call this the hook, and if I couldn't hook her in, then 
she didn't want me as her writer after all.

	"Dear Tina,

		I've changed my mind about writing about you.  If you are 
interested, please come by the apartment this Friday at 5pm sharp.  
Don't wear any sort of underwear.

						Richard"

	It was pretty straight forward, but that's what a hook is all 
about.  She couldn't ask a dominant to write her a sex story, and not 
expect a few commands.   It also placed the plot in her hands.  If 
Janice was right, and Tina was just a woman begging to be bound, then 
she had the power to tell me right now.

	Three days passed by without an answer.  In an e-mail that was 
sent just after midnight, Tina gave me her response.  It was just one 
sentence and I had to admire her sense of pacing.

	The sentence was simply "I'll be there."

~~~

	At five o'clock, Tina arrived.  She was wearing a black t-shirt 
that concealed the mass if her breasts but not the hard points of her 
nipples.  Tina was wearing jeans as well, which was an interesting 
choice.  If she wanted to discourage me sexually, she would have worn 
sweats or if she was eager for me, she would have worn something a bit 
more sophisticated.  I applauded her neutral choice. 

	"Where's Janice?" Tina asked after I motioned for her to sit on 
the couch. 

	I sat on the table beside the couch so I could face her.  "Janice 
is on a date with her sub, Marcus, tonight.  Friday nights are always 
play nights for us."

	Tina took a deep breath.  "Is this a play night for you?"

	I ignored the question.  "The first thing I need to do is a 
simple test.  While staying where you are, reach behind you and grab a 
hold of the cord for the blinds with both hands."

	She did as I asked.  We had shortened the cords so that the cats 
wouldn't play with them, so Tina had to stretch to reach them.  With 
her arms fully extended, she wrapped the cord around her hands.  

A thought occurred to me that it would make for a good 
humiliation story if a sub's hands were tied to the blinds and if she 
resisted, she would open the blinds and allow the outside world to see 
the wicked things occurring to her.

	Oh well, that's another story.

	"Now, here are the rules," I told Tina.  "As long as you hold 
onto that cord, I'm allowed to do whatever I wish.  I will collect 
research for the story I want to write about you.  If at any point you 
feel uncomfortable or nervous, then you can let go of the cord and I'll 
stop instantly.  However, if you let go of the cord before I collect 
enough research, then I am not obligated to write you anything.  
Understand?"

	She nodded.  I was pleased to see she had no questions.  Although 
I wouldn't have minded answering questions to reassure her, I was 
relieved to see her willing to jump in with both feet.

	I stood up, and walked around the room.  Tina watched me from 
behind those sexy glasses, obviously eager for me to begin.  She didn't 
know that I had begun already.  As I casually walked around the room, I 
was testing her anxiety.  Some submissives have quit this game after 
only a minute, while others began talking nervously.  This was a game 
of willing bondage, and I wanted to make sure she was ready before we 
really began having fun.

	I turned off some lights and left only the short lamp by the 
couch on.  It cloaked the room in darkness except for her.  Tina 
watched as I opened a small decorative box on the table in front of 
her.  Her eyes widened as she saw the sexual toys inside; vibrators, 
cuffs and various small floggers.  She must have seen that box sitting 
there for months, but she never suspected what treasures it kept.  Now 
she had plenty of time to look at it as I walked into the kitchen.

	From the kitchen I could see her sitting on the couch but she 
couldn't see me unless she stood up and turned.  Luckily for her, she 
didn't.  I poured myself some water, and sucked on a breath mint while 
Tina sat in silence.  Tina waited for me to return, and I waited for 
her to crack.

	After five minutes, I came back into the living room.  Her face 
was flushed from a blush that only deepened when I walked in.  There 
was no telling what thoughts she was thinking that could cause such a 
blush, but maybe she'll tell me later.  It was clear to me that she was 
prepared for the next step.

	Without saying a word, I sat down beside her on the couch.  I ran 
my hand over her straight red hair, and was surprised by how smooth it 
was.  After stroking her for a minute, I brought my other hand to her 
waist and reached for the bottom of her shirt.  My hand slowly raised 
her shirt until I could slip my hand onto her stomach.  

	Tina hissed and she squirmed on the couch.  She looked straight 
ahead but I could see that red glow return to her cheeks.  I pinned 
some of her hair behind her ear so that I could always watch her cheeks 
while I played.

	I had to use both hands to lift her black t-shirt around her 
chest.  Tina held her breath as I raised her shirt past her smooth 
stomach and over her generous breasts.  Like I had commanded, she 
neglected to wear a brassiere.  Her breasts were luminous, so pale with 
only a slight pink around her nipples.  I noted how hard her nipples 
were, twin nubs of bright red.  

	I rolled her shirt over her breasts and just under her out 
stretched arms.  Tina released her breath and I watched in fascination 
as her large breasts shifted with her chest.  Our eyes meet briefly 
before she looked away in embarrassment.  Her nipples betrayed her 
excitement but she couldn't face the truth in my eyes just yet.

	Since she still clutched the cord, I continued.  Her left breast 
was closest to me, so I cupped it in my hand first.  The warmth 
surprised me, as it was sweaty to my touch.  I lifted her breast and 
marveled at the weight.  I couldn't believe she was self-conscious 
about weight when she had this wonderful orb to offer.  

	My thumb ran over her nipple, and Tina shivered.  Smiling, I 
passed my thumb back over and felt another shiver ripple through her.  
She sucked in her stomach as her back arched when I stroked her nipple 
a third time.  Another pass with my thumb caused a deeper shiver and 
this time, she looked directly in my eyes.  She must have liked what 
she saw because for the first time, she smiled.

	I returned her smile and then dipped my head to take her right 
nipple into my lips.  Tina moaned as my warm mouth sucked on her solid 
tit.  Her moan was low and very sensual, long and drawn out as my 
tongue flicked her nipple between my teeth.

	The taste of her sweat was delightful.  When my tongue pressed 
hard against her nipple, Tina would press into me, pushing her breast 
into my mouth and her other breast against my neck.  She jumped when my 
teeth lightly grazed her but the shivers that followed made her breast 
jiggle in my mouth.

	I released her nipple from my lips and leaned back.  This time 
she meet my stare and I saw questions were poised on her lips.  Maybe 
she wanted to know how far this was going.  Maybe she wanted to make a 
witty comment.  Maybe she just needed to declare her intentions.  I 
stopped her with a single finger on her lips.

	"Since your bondage tonight is voluntary," I said, pointing to 
the cord, "then let your silence be voluntary as well.  Gags can be so 
restrictive, and I want to hear more of your moans."

	Tina nodded and I turned my attention to sucking on her other 
breast.  My lips, tongue and teeth toyed with her until I found the 
full range of her moans.  They were all exquisite.

	When my lips were tingling from the kissing, and her nipples were 
red and swollen, I finally rose for air.  Tina was breathing as hard as 
I was and her face had flushed to an even deeper shade of red.  Her 
hands were gripping the cord so tightly; I could see the white of her 
knuckles.

	My hand went to her pants zipper, and she began to shake.  I 
dipped my head back down onto her nipple and with sucked on her nipple 
until she began to moan again.  When her back arched again, I popped 
the button of her pants.  She didn't raise a word of protest as I 
unzipped her pants, Tina could only moan.

	I regrettably left her breast and moved to in front of her.  
Tina's eyes were closed in anxiety, but she still held onto the cord.  
She lifted her bottom up as I pulled her pants down over her waist, 
over her red tangle of pubic hair and down her smooth legs.  Instead of 
taking her pants completely off, I left them around her ankles.  Pants 
around her ankles were a more effective bondage than most cuffs.

	I sat on the table opposite Tina, moving her legs to be between 
mine.  Her sex was bare and on display for my pleasure.  Tina watched 
me as she clenched the cord and silently obeyed as I pushed her knees 
apart.  

Her hair was such a dark red, and such a lovely tangle over her 
sex.  My fingers stroked her pubic hair, moving it this way and that to 
look at the lips of her mound.  Glistening with moisture, her clitoris 
had emerged from its hood and I took care to avoid it with my fingers.

"In fiction, I find that women are most sensitive about what 
their sexes are called," I began.  "The wrong name can destroy a 
woman's libido, while the right name can melt a woman."

My fingernail traced the line where her sex lips meet.  "What 
name do you prefer?  Pussy?" I asked.

She moaned as my finger moved down her lips.

"Sex?" I asked as my fingernail traced up her lips.  She moaned 
again.

"Cunt?" I tried as my fingernail moved down, parting her sex 
slightly.  She moaned harder, but she shook her head in the negative.

"What about garden?" I asked as my finger moved up, penetrating 
deeper.  She gasped.

"Or what about delta?" I asked as slipped my wet finger from her 
and stroked her clitoris.  

"Yes!" she whispered, forgetting our agreement about silence.  

"You like delta?" I asked.  My finger left her clit and slipped 
back into her sex, deep this time.  "You like the way delta reminds you 
of a river?  Or perhaps the Nile, that mystic, life giving river?"

She nodded her head, her eyes clenched tight.  At this point, I 
could have called her vagina Mickey Mouse, and she would have agreed.  
It wasn't finding the truth that was so important, as much as getting 
her to associate the word delta with the frustrated pleasure she was 
feeling now.  It was just more fiction.

I masturbated her freely now.  In and out with my single finger, 
I pumped her delta.  Tina was so damn wet.  Just beneath her breathing, 
you could hear her lips pulling at my finger with the wet sound of 
suction.  Her hips moved with my finger and her stomach undulated with 
a rhythm that would shame belly dancers.

 "Not yet," I said as I pulled my finger clean.  I brought my 
finger to my lips and tasted her.  Her green eyes stared at me as I 
cleaned my finger.

Turning, I picked up two items from the box she had forgotten 
about.  I held up a long, thick blue vibrator in one hand.  In my other 
hand, I held a smaller, but studded red vibrator.  Her eyes widened and 
her lips silently mouthed a curse word.

"Without saying a word, pick the one that I will use on you," I 
told her.

Tina looked at me in denial.  The blue one was so long, it was 
inhuman.  The red one's studs covered it from hilt to tip, suggesting a 
unique experience.  I could see she wanted to discourage me, but my 
face was passive.  There was no discussion.

She nodded towards the blue one.

"Next time it will be the red," I said as I moved the blue one to 
between her legs.  

I laid the blue vibrator at the gates of her delta and carefully 
rubbed the tip against her.  When she relaxed enough to start moaning 
again, I carefully pushed.  Into her the vibrator went, opening her 
inch by inch.  I reached out and grabbed a handful of her breast.  Tina 
trembled and blushed but this time she held eye contact as I continued 
to penetrate her.

Halfway into her sex, I could feel her clenching hard.  It was 
clear that her delta was at its limits.  With a press of my thumb, I 
turned the vibrator on.   

"Oh God!" Tina cried out.  She squirmed against the couch as her 
sex shook from the vibrations.  My hand tightened on her breast, 
sinking my fingers into her pale globe.  Her hips were bucking, trying 
to fuck the vibrator she was impaled on.

Through the blinds, I saw a familiar set of headlights.

"Remember," I warned her.  "If you release that cord, this is 
over and I can tell you now, I don't have enough to write about yet."

I was lying.  I had plenty, enough to write volumes about her, 
but then, that was just another fiction.

The key slipped into the front door and Tina's red hair flew as 
she snapped her head around.  In walked Janice, looking lovely in her 
dance clothes.  Marcus, her latest submissive, walked in behind her.

"Had fun dancing?" I asked from between Tina's spread thighs.  My 
fingers played with her clitoris.

"Enough to want to come back home," Janice teased.  She 
deliberately ignored Tina, but Marcus openly stared.  Who wouldn't 
stare at a busty woman with her breasts bare and her sex pierced by a 
vibrator?

"Have fun," I told Janice and they both went into the back 
bedroom.  

I looked at Janice, and just as I expected, her face found a 
deeper shade of red that I had never seen before.  It was beautiful and 
I told her so.

"I'm so proud of you for not freaking," I told her as I slid the 
vibrator partially out.  "I think I'm close to finishing my research, 
but I need to hear you climax first.  Is that all right with you?"

The blush was still there, but Tina nodded her head vigorously.  
She was embarrassed, but she was also determined to see this through.  
I liked to think she wanted to see how this fiction ended.

Now that I knew the length she could absorb from the vibrator, I 
fucked her with the toy without fear.  Deep into her delta I plunged 
the blue phallus while my fingers stroked her clitoris.  My knowledge 
of her sex was evident as her hips kept rising to meet my thrusts, 
begging without words for me to fuck her.

My blue eyes meet her green, and we watched each other as her sex 
was manipulated.  Tina pulled the cord with her hands and her feet kept 
shifting between my legs.  This voluntary bondage was maddening to her 
and I knew that she longed to be securely bound.  She wanted to writhe, 
moan and pull at her bonds as her delta was opened from within.

I twisted the smooth blue vibrator in her sex and her eyes 
clenched in pleasure.  Her sex was so wet and smooth; it was too easy 
to spin the vibrator within her.  I could feel the walls of her sex 
squeeze down on the toy, clamping down as she came closer to her 
ultimate outcome.

"Do you want to climax?" I asked her.

Behind me, we could hear the loud crack of Janice's paddle.  
Janice jumped at the sound, but she also moaned.  The paddle cracked 
again and again so I repeated my question.

"Do you want to climax?" I asked her.

She nodded.

"Then you may," I said as I pushed the vibrator deeper than she 
had accepted before.

"Yes!" Tina cried out.  Her buttocks lifted completely from the 
couch, pushing her completely onto the vibrator.  Briefly, I got a 
glimpse of the impressive wet spot she was creating on the couch.

"Give me a good climax to use, Tina," I commanded.

"Okay," she moaned, perhaps not hearing me as her orgasm crashed 
upon her body.  Her eyes popped open and her lips formed a perfect 'O' 
as shifting hips froze.  I looked deep into those green eyes as she 
gasped, once, twice and then groaned in pleasure.  

She was perfectly still, only gasping and shivering as she 
enjoyed her climax.  I took note of that.  Slowly I pulled the vibrator 
from her delta, and laid it beside me on the table.  We sat silently as 
Janice continued to spank Marcus in the bedroom.

"You can let go of the cord now," I told her.  "I can write your 
story now."

Bless her submissive heart, Tina looked disappointed.

"Are you," she said with hesitation.  She was still clutching the 
cord.  "Are you sure you don't want to enjoy yourself?"

I smiled and reached for her hands.  Gently, I pried her sweaty 
fingers from the cord and kissed her on each pink nipple.  

"As a writer, I've learned the value of leaving something for the 
next episode," I told her.

"There's going to be another part?" Tina asked.  Her face was 
glowing with a different light, this time from enjoyment.

"Well, as you know, it depends on feedback," I told her.  "A 
writer is always a sucker for appreciative letters from fans."

"What counts as appreciation?" Tina asked.  I was amazed by how 
much her body language had changed.  Her fear was gone and she didn't 
even seem to notice that the sounds of paddling were gone.  

"Oh, try me, and I'll tell you if its enough," I said.