Okay, I've got a long one. Just over 6 pages in Word with 0.5 inch margins. Should I post it here? Or is that too much?

We could use the kink. Post away! People have done fuckin' 20-parters here before. ;)

Part 3, page 10 Part III: Into the future Clutching her fingers in my left paw, her claws digging into my palm, I remove the coils of ropes from around her wrist then growl into her neck “Put your hand on me.” I flick my wrist and move her hand toward my arm – she catches on pretty quickly. Damn. My penetrating stare is felt through the blindfold, and as forceful as my voice so she lowers her head as if to gaze no higher than my mouth. Satisfied by this display of submission I continue, “You will trace your fingers slowly down the front of my chest, through my happy trail and along my shaft. You’ll make constant contact with my skin until you can wrap your hand around my erection.” Pressing my finger under her chin and raising her face level with mine, I hiss, “Shake your head “yes” if you understand.” I’ve found it is good to keep someone physiy engaged when you want a sexual response out of them. She nods, once, slowly, keeping her head lowered. I remove her blindfold and she blinks a couple times, but keeps her gaze transfixed on my mouth to read my spoken will, sensing that raising her face to mine is not yet permitted.

Just one shy Wow. Thanks for the encouragement of my loquaciousness. ;P

hmm..I want to read!

Please do...!

Introduction BD and Katrina Begun on Friday, December 03, 2010 – Completed on Saturday, December 11, 2010 An ongoing fantasy fiction series about various characters’ stories. This tale is divided into three parts with different tones and tenses, featuring two main characters, and one hot scene after another. Primary Characters BD is a revolutionary switch top who’s used to taking what and who she wants, after she’s been given consent of course. She’s never introduced anyone to kink before, but she’s always up for a challenge… Katrina is a raunchy spoiled brat femme lesbian who’s used to getting what and who she wants. She’s never tried anything kinky besides letting one of her sugar daddy “regulars” watch her and another girl have sex in the massage room of the go-go bar where she worked. She came to a Swingers party with one of her regulars as his escort because they don’t allow single men in at these events. She has a strict policy against getting sexy with her “daddies” so he went off to play with others while she came over to the bar to plan her next move… Secondary Characters / Locations / Concepts The Pit is a monthly Swingers party that BD attends regularly. Beth is a friend of BD’s who tends bar at the Pit. Concepts include: queer sexuality, lesbianism, bdsm and kink, psycholomagical power sharing.

Part 1, page 1 Part I: From the past It is obvious to anyone who comes in my room (which is everyone who “comes” in my room) that I live and breathe kink. They don’t me BD for nothing. In fact, they me BD for a lot of reasons: my love of bondage and domination is just the tip of the nipple. My closest friends and lovers understand the truth of my apparent dual personas. Being a Gemini, I find it easy to switch between Baby Doll, the femmenist who adores and is adored by her strong switchy sisters; and Bull Dog, the gender b(l)ender whose bark is as fierce as hir bite. No matter who I may be at any given moment (and the options are not just limited to those two nicknames), I am always first and foremost a sexual being. I’m just a human – being – sexual. All my energy is sexual energy because all my energy is a representation of and an act of creation. Whether it be a creation of pleasure, or a creation of pain, a creation of healing of hurting, but not of harming – all actions are acts of creation; magic. Therefore, all sex is magic. “My name is BD and I practice SM.” is exactly how I introduced myself to her, which wasn’t as inappropriate or out of the blue as it may sound. This pillow princess had sashayed up to the bar to order a drink from my friend Beth, who didn’t stop waiting on the current customer in queue to assist the pouting pipsqueak. In response, the tiny unicorn stared down Beth (who’s a built butch) and yelled incredulously to anyone within earshot, “Bitch Don’t See Me?!, that’s what BDSM stands for in the Pit! This is the pits.”

Part 1, page 2 That’s when I intervened: stepped in front of her, pulled the cigarette from her fingers and put my hand in hers. After saying my name, and before she could get a word in edgewise, I shook her hand and continued with “I can help you redefine that acronym over a drink.” Extinguishing her butt while glancing at her ass, I then held up a peace sign with my other hand, alerting my friend with a nod and ordered, “Two please, Beth. Whatever she wants, and my usual. We’ll be upstairs.” The chick was obviously flustered by my aggressive manner of stealing her spotlight (and her smoke), but seemed to take satisfaction that it meant she now had the bartender’s undivided attention and a table in the lounge with someone to buy her drinks. She smiled sweetly with her lips but her eyes continued to bore into Beth’s coldly while she traced the top of her sparkly sandaled foot softly up my calf, and ordered herself a bottle of wine. I offered my arm to lead her to our table on the second floor and she wrapped herself around me like a snake. I was only trying to stop her from poisoning the club’s other patrons, but she was attempting to inject her venom in order to milk me and everyone in VIP of all the attention she could handle. “I’m Kat, and I think you’ll be a purrrrfect companion this evening.” Maybe it was the fact that she needed to be taught a lesson, or perhaps it was as simple as the fact that her name made my inner Bull Dog growl. Whatever it was, I decided then and there she would be my pet for the evening.

Part x, page x Playing each other like cat and mouse, I imagined this Bull Dog and Kat simultaneously thinking, “Game on.” We drank (she more than me), flirted (equally), danced, kissed, groped, and narrowly avoided fucking in the stall (if only that attendant had gone on break). In the car, on the way over to my place, I asked if she was a morning person or night owl, and Kat hissed, “I eat the night owl for breakfast after hanging out with him until the cock crows.”

Part x, page x Part II: To the present Closing the door, I plunge us both briefly into pitch black, wrap my arms around her from behind just under her breasts, and ask, “Are you ready?” The entire length of her body presses against mine, her hips rotating so her ass grinds into my pelvis. She sighs, “For anything…” and I flip the switch to illuminate the two electric candlestick floor lamps to reveal the marvelous closet. “Welcome backstage, Kat.” I smile and release her with a wave of my arms. Spinning once, applauding and embodying a giddy schoolgirl over the custom-built wall-to-wall costume closet, Kat squeals, “Dress up!” She then composes herself, starts unzipping the back of her dress, slowly, while turning around quickly so I can witness its descent. I sit down in the chair I’d set up for the ease of putting on shoes (and for standing on to reach the top of the floor-to-ceiling shelving) and begin the process of taking off my boots while gazing at Katrina’s naked back. She drops the flimsy electric blue dress she’d been wearing in a heap on the floor, kicking it off with her heels while I undo the seven buckles up the side of these leather knee-highs all the way down to my ankles.

Part x, page x Putting the buckled beasts beside the chair, I recline comfortably and watch this kitty turn around to face me. She meets my gaze and I drop it, knowing I could never win a staring contest with a cat and preferring to take in the full view of her gleaming pale flesh against the black satin bra and thong, as well as the garter belt and stockings she’s wearing. She turns around again, and starts rifling through the closet for something that appeals to her. She pores through the floor to ceiling shoe shelves, checks out each article in the chest-high chest of shirts, which rests on the footprint-painted dresser full of drawers and slacks, almost all of which she gets into. She pulls the claw down from its hook and selects a complimentary purse from the ceiling. While she hunts, I put on an electronic down-tempo CD that starts out kind of light and gets gradually darker as the tracks continue. I quickly duck out to light some candles and prepare a few things in the room beyond the closet, but return before she knows I’d gone. I sit back down and watch her reverse and forward looping strip-tease, until she’s satisfied with her selection of a mini dress with strategiy placed transparent and opaque horizontal stripes.

Part x, page x Throwing her full attention my way now, she struts over to my seat, puts her hands on my knees and pulls my legs apart. Warily eyeballing my opponent I follow her every movement as she mock-innocently blinks, bends down to meet my gaze, then lowers further to look up at me from underneath her lashes, her face level with my crotch. My clit twitches and I can smell our arousal rising. She rises as well and straddles my lap, placing her hands on either side of my face. As she comes in for a kiss, I turn my head and make her work for it. “You think I’m easy, just ‘cause I’m gonna fuck you on our first date?” I smirk at her as she pouts her frustration then grins as she grips my denim-covered cunt and squeezes (feeling my clit pressing into her palm no doubt) and replies, “No, you’re definitely hard.” “That’s just the tip of the iceberg, Miss. But if this is your idea of an audition, Kitty…” At the sound of which she playfully meows, then purrs, and giggles sheepishly, so I continue “Then tell me you will submit to all my commands as the director of this production by sharing with me your safeword.“

Part x, page x First she opens and closes her mouth in (feigned?) shock. Then she opens her mouth again, to respond. I hold up a finger and place it over her lips, to inform her of the fine print uninterruptedly. “This word will be the last you speak until you speak it again and the scene ends, or you will suffer the consequences for speaking without my direction.” Kissing my finger just before I pull it away, she says simply, “Cut!” then smiles and awaits my command. “Take one!” I smile back at her, to which she replies, “Yes, Director” either temporarily forgetting what she’s just agreed to (less likely) or testing my authority (most likely). Asserting my seriousness, I deliver a sudden, sharp and stinging slap to each cheek of her face. “That’s one for each word.” I spit, “Take two!” Now befit a silent film star, she nods and I kiss her closed mouth between each word, saying, “Be. Quiet. Pet.” In my experience, if you want someone to really listen to you, don’t give commands with more than x words. Pulling aside the red velvet curtains which separate the back of the closet from the rest of the bedroom, I fasten the curtains to the rope-tasseled posts on either side slowly, giving my guest ample time to marvel with a (wordless) gasp at the play space revealed behind the fourth wall. Her pupils dilate as she takes in the sight of the furniture and the realization of its purpose.

Part x, page x In the center of the room stands my majestic four-poster bed. Jet-black poles, with x-inch pegs sticking out in precise prns, each corner is draped with a cascade of shimmering silver chains for pleasure-bound guests. The bottoms of the chain-curtains are connected to the o-rings protruding from the sides of the bed frame, while the chain tops are connected to the o-rings where the bedpost meets the ceiling. I can’t tell if Kat is looking closely enough to tell that the bed is actually suspended, or if she realizes how easily she could be suspended over it with a few quick modifications. I decide not to let her in on the secret just yet, saying only, “maybe later” as I steer her toward the right, passing the large trunk next to the bed. My hope chest of sex-toys, each in their own boxes and bags, I’d opened the lid to show off the crop, floggers, paddles and other percussion instruments hanging from inside. She stares after them as we pass by and I assure her that “I take very good care of all my toys.” Next to the trunk is a small square table, upon which a few items are laid. Two red seven-day candles are burning, several lengths of clothesline are coiled around them, a pair of scissors to the left of the rope, a blindfold to the right, a Wartenberg wheel between the candles, a strap-on, lube and harness. I ponder whether Kat’s mind is imagining that sometimes the board holds the bellies of those who appreciate a bare ass paddling while their limbs are bound to the table-legs.