Page 52 of Twisted

Oh, god. Don’t make me say it.

Another harsh slap on the other cheek encouraged me to find my voice.

“I want you to tie me down, to blindfold me,” I whispered, eyes downcast. In a way, this conversation was more difficult than the one I’d had with Roger. Probably because I knew Graham would follow through.

“And what else?” he asked, his voice warm and smooth—he was the devil in a pinstriped suit. His fingers flitted across my bare ass again, and I found myself not wanting to hold back any longer, even though the thought of admitting my desires terrified me.

“And then I want you to punish me—with your belt,” I uttered in a hushed whisper.

“Jesus, Josie, you’re even dirtier than I’d hoped.” His voice was heavy with lustful admiration.

Graham released my hands and stepped back. I looked up and saw him gazing at me hungrily as he loosened his necktie.

“Eyes closed,” he said softly, before wrapping his red silk tie around my head and tying it snugly.

I found comfort in the darkness. It let me escape from the world and focus on nothing but the desire within me.

Graham helped me up onto the bed, wordlessly laying me down on my stomach. I stretched out against the cool sheets, my body limp with surrender as I let him position me how he wanted. I felt more soft fabric being wrapped around my wrists as they were tied together; he must have attached my bonds to his headboard because when I tugged my hands, I felt resistance. I heard the swish of his belt being pulled out of its loops—just like I’d imagined in my fantasy—and my skin prickled with fear as I realized I couldn’t get away.

“Your ass is going to look so pretty after it’s been striped by my belt.”

A split second later, I felt the leather snap against my skin. The spark of pain cleared my head, and I groaned into the mattress. Graham didn’t give me a chance to fully absorb the belt’s impact before landing another blow. I arched my back and raised my hips as the pain blossomed into heat that spread to my cunt and made me ache even more for him.

My hands balled into fists as I pulled and tugged, but the bonds held me fast. Meanwhile Graham’s unforgiving belt laid down layer after layer of heat, crisscrossing my ass and thighs. My cries of abandon were interspersed with whimpers of longing as I felt myself growing increasingly aroused.

After a dozen strokes of the belt, I was squirming wildly on the bed, tilting my hips toward the sheets and trying to give my clit the friction it needed. In the haze of my lust, I heard Graham chuckle softly and say, “Such a greedy little slut.”

Still surrounded by darkness, I focused on what little cues I could hear and feel: the rustle of Graham stripping out of the rest of his clothes and the pitch of the mattress as he climbed onto the bed with me. I arched my back as he palmed my heated cheeks, lewdly exposing me. But I was too turned on to be embarrassed. Graham groaned into my slick flesh as he tricked his tongue along my dripping slit and discovered how wet I was. I squirmed against his face, so hot and ready to come, and Graham indulged my desire. Locking his lips around my clit, he swirled his tongue around that puffy button, sucking and licking until my body stiffened with pleasure.

I was still crying out from my sudden and overwhelming climax as Graham rose and shoved his cock into my quivering sex. With bold, forceful strokes, he rode me toward another climax, which soon triggered his own.

Afterward, Graham loosened my bonds and removed the blindfold, holding me possessively in his arms. And just like that my world had changed. But I guess, in reality, it was simply that I had changed.

All you see is nothing. Dana’s false words echoed in my head. I could never explain it to her in a way she could understand.

Rather than nothing, I’d seen sparks of red and gold shimmer against my eyelids as bursts of pleasure lit me up from the inside. I’d seen the fulfillment of so many years of fevered dreams. And I’d seen what my future could be and knew that there was no way I would ever go back to the way things were.

Nothing? No, I’d seen everything.

BROKEN

Alison Tyler

Lifeguards can stay young forever.

Dean didn’t want to grow up. He coasted in the type of lifestyle that fit his immature personality. He worked the pool circuit—the country club, the park rec—and he spent his free time at the gym. Staying young. He had sandy blond hair that he wore thick and slightly shaggy. His muscles were more intense than when he’d been in his twenties. At home, he had posters on his walls, even though most of his friends had traded up to framed artwork. There was something college boy about every aspect of his life. That’s how he liked it.

And each year, he went to Spring Break.

“Can’t believe you’re still heading to Florida,” his friend Tommy said. “You’re twenty years older than all the bikini babes.”

Dean looked at himself in the mirror behind the bar. Did he look forty? He didn’t think so. Maybe there were a few creases around the corners of his eyes, but that’s what sunglasses were for.

“I can do two hundred crunches a day,” Dean said.

“Fine,” Tommy responded. “But how much you got in your 401(k)?”

A long time ago, Tommy had been fun. Around the frat house, they’d had good times with lots of broads. Now Tommy was married with a mortgage and a wife named Susan who didn’t like Dean. She was still pissed about the bachelor party, and that was what? Seven years ago? Tommy had to lie to see Dean, meeting after work at a pub. Dean swore he’d never hook up with a woman who kept him away from his friends.

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