By Maggie Casper On Sep 2 2007, 10:00 am
Shelby Langley was not sub, slave or Mistress, she was merely kinky. Point her to a BDSM club where she could watch and experience pretty much anything the mind could conjure, without the tangled web of an actual relationship, and she was in orgasmic bliss.
Long into the lifestyle, Craig Jensen was able to spot a submissive in denial from a mile away. Usually he left them be to find their own way, only keeping an eye out for their safety while on his turf, but there was something about the sweet, young blonde who had a love for rope bondage that called for him to claim her as his own.
A little excerpt of Knotty Girl for your reading enjoyment.
“I think I’d better stick with rope.”
Craig Jensen wanted to shake some sense into the petite naked blonde who lay shivering at his feet. Even clouded with confusion after her dead faint, her eyes were the greenest he’d ever seen. And her curves may very well be wearing curves all their own but neither attribute changed the fact that she was reckless on top of being trouble with a capital T.
“I mean, geez, whoda thought plastic wrap could be so dangerous,” she continued as if the scowl plastered across his face made no difference in the world. That was amazing all on its own considering his scowl had the ability to scare grown men.
“Nope, I’ll stick with rope. After all, it doesn’t make me sweat and feels so damn good against my skin that just the thought of it makes me…”
She stopped mid-sentence as if she’d just realized what she was saying. Color returned to her cheeks as her gaze settled on his.
“You little fool.” His words were low and heated as he draped a robe over her prone body.
The rest of the crowd had dispersed, leaving only himself, the blonde and the idiot young dominant she’d been playing with. Grabbing the rather large ball of plastic wrap that had been used to bind her, in effect mummifying her from shoulder to ankle, he stood to his full height of six feet, two inches.
Without taking his gaze from his patient, Craig handed the ball of plastic wrap to the deathly pale man standing beside him. “She’s going to be fine.”
The skinny punk sighed in relief. Feeling a bit of compassion for the young man, Craig said, “Accidents are bound to happen in this lifestyle, especially for a new dom. Take this as a lesson and learn from it, but don’t let anything like it happen here again. Ever.”
His words were clipped and deadly serious. The young man listening intently evidently knew Craig meant business because his demeanor changed from that of rebellion to keen interest. It wouldn’t be long before the new dom was all but begging for lessons.
Craig had already been there, done that as a Pro Top. For years he’d received payment for services rendered. At one time he’d had several dominant-submissive couples who he tutored and many singles who either wanted to learn a particular aspect such as wielding a flogger or experience the receiving end. He had no intention of doing it again.
Other than overseeing Club Jerico, the BDSM club he’d built from the ground up then sold, lock, stock and barrel to his best friend, Craig now had the time he needed to look for his one, the one submissive in a long line of women who would truly be his. Wasn’t it ironic that out of all the experienced women he’d played with over the years, the obviously inexperienced blonde still at his feet was the one? Hell, he didn’t even know her name.
It was crazy. Craig couldn’t explain how he knew she was the one. It was just something he was certain of. Something he felt bone deep. He’d seen and played with hundreds of women over the years but something about the one at his feet was different.
She was everything he normally stayed away from in a play partner. So why in the hell did he feel as though life as he knew it would never be the same if he didn’t own her, heart, body and soul?
“Oh, and she’s off limits. Make it known.”