Following is the first installment in my new series of stories for
Good Vibrations. The pieces will be posted here and on the GV site. In the sake of full disclosure, I should admit that I ♥ GV. I did my first live reading at the Good Vibrations store at 16th and Valencia. I met
Miss Violet Blue through Good Vibrations. And I've been
writing for their site for over a decade. I'll be adding the stories to my sidebar, so you can follow the serial each time I add a new bit.
Breaking FreeBy Alison Tyler
“Bend over and touch your toes.”
Everyone falls into a rut sometimes…
“Don’t forget to count.”
…even the kinkiest of couples.
“Prepare yourself. If you flinch, we start at one again.”
I always get wet when Garret prepares me for punishment. My pussy clenches the second he tells me I’m due for discipline, and I can almost come when the crop smacks against my naked ass. But if this is all you’re doing 24/7, even hard-core, incendiary sex can become mundane.
Oh, my ass is red.
Oooh, he’s going to fuck my mouth again.
Ahh, where did we put the ball gag?
Yawn.
That’s why I was shocked, elated, and thrilled to my core, when I heard, “Is that how you do it? You start over? I tend to insert anal beads at the first fuck-up.” Those words would have stirred something in me no matter what. The fact that the man talking was Garret’s best friend, Jules, turned a switch inside me. But I knew better than to look over my shoulder, knew better than to ask what the fuck was going on.
Garret and I had discussed inviting a third party into our boudoir. I’d always assumed he would want another girl, a second slave for him to work over, to dominate, to pleasure. Discovering he’d brought another dominant male into our castle, well, I could hardly believe my luck.
“Let’s see how she behaves,” Jules said. “I like to learn from watching.”
He was going to observe us. Fine. It’s not as if I’d never been on display before. Garret takes me out to Pamela’s Power Play a few times a month. I’ve been caned in front of a crowd, been part of a bondage display, been put over the leather spanking horse and properly paddled. But having Jules standing so close made my heart throb. An audience of one seemed more intense than one of hundreds.
“Don’t forget to count, baby,” Garret murmured, and I realized that my behavior would reflect on his skills as a master. He didn’t want me to fail, because that would make him look bad in front of his friend. His handsome friend. His friend with whom we’d been out on double dates and gone to clubs. I was so aware now that my ass was naked, that my cheeks were flushed, that my pussy was glistening with wetness.
“We’ll start with ten,” Garret said kindly. Thank god. Ten. I could do ten in my sleep. But then I felt the first blow and started to worry. He was using a
crop from the start. No flogger warm-up. No bare hand to get me going. He was showing off for Jules, and I needed to get myself together, to count without flinching, begging, or standing up.
“One,” I said.
“Good girl.” Oh, that was Jules. I wanted to turn my head to look at him. I wanted to see the expression on his face. Was he pleased? Did he like the way I looked, palms flat, tiny little breath of a schoolgirl skirt pushed to my waist, panties around my ankles?
Garret struck again.
“Two,” I said.
And again.
“Three.”
I thought of the last time I’d seen Jules up onstage, doing a demo with one of his favorite subs. There had been ice in his tone when he’d told her what to expect. She had tears in her eyes before he even began, anticipation bringing fear.
Garret landed the crop in rapid succession, and I lost my ability to count. I’d been in the past, fantasizing, forgetting my place. “Five,” I said, “No, wait. Four. Four, five, six.”
Jules tsked me. “May I?” he asked Garret.
“Be my guest,” Garret said, magnanimously.
“Got any
beads?” Jules asked Garret, all casual. Like “Do you have a light?” I heard Garret rummaging. I shut my eyes tight.
“Come over here.” There was that chilled tone again, but this time the voice was directed at me, and I swear I would have climaxed if I’d touched my clit at all. Just touched it.
In seconds, I found myself draped over Jules’ strong thighs. He had parted the cheeks of my ass and was roughly lubing me up. His fingertips slid inside me, and I moaned. Garret laughed. “She likes that.”
“This isn’t about her pleasure,” Jules said matter-of-factly, and I swallowed hard. He began to slip the beads inside me, one after the other. I was horrified in a way. This man—this best friend of my beau—was seeing me in a most indelicate position. But he liked it. That’s what I reminded myself. I felt his hard-on pressing against me. That gave me a tiny spark of power, just enough to keep my head together.
When he’d finished inserting the beads, he spoke to Garret. “The crop was nice—”
Nice! My mind screamed.
Nice! “But I’m going to use my hand now.” My heart rose and sank. A hand spanking wouldn’t hurt as much, but the intimacy was fifty times greater. Jules used his big palm on me, and I bit my lip to keep quiet. He spanked my right cheek over and over, and then my left, and then he parted my asscheeks again, as if checking on the beads. When he resumed the spanking, I couldn’t help myself; my feet began to kick in earnest.
“Hold yourself still,” Jules instructed. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.
“Hold yourself still,” he repeated, “unless you want me to bind you down.”
Was that a trick question? Garret laughed, a low chuckle I knew well. He understood exactly what was going through my mind. Yes, I wanted to behave. Yes, I wanted prizes for being a good girl. And yes, more than anything else, I wanted Jules to bind me down.
I waited for the next blow—and waited. And then I squirmed.
“Ah, baby,” Jules said. “Time to get the
cuffs…”
XXX,
Alison
P.S. Interested in the devices? Check out the
anal beads,
cuffs, and
crop!
