Second song second chanc.., p.25
Wrapped Around Your Finger, page 25
Praise for the Story of Submission series: Dark Secret Love and The Delicious Torment
“Alison Tyler delivers sex scenes brimming with breathless intensity, marrying them with the deep emotions and irresistible desires that fuel her character’s kinky journey of self-discovery.”
—Barbara Pizio,
Executive Editor of Penthouse Variations
“Readers tired of sensationalistic portrayals of BDSM will appreciate Tyler’s nuanced and realistic approach.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Dark Secret Love is derived from the personal longings and desires from the author’s colorful palette of sexual experiences.”
—New York Journal of Books
“Providing candid revelations of her BDSM lifestyle (and based on her personal journal recordings), Alison Tyler draws upon some twenty-five years’ experience as a gifted author of erotic literature to create what must be described as a kind of docudrama that commingles personal experiences with a novelist’s vivid imagination. The result is a compelling read from first page to last!”
—Midwest Book Review
“Dark Secret Love could be a roadmap for other uninhibited young women, a trip down memory lane for older submissives, and escapist fantasy for the curious among us; any way you read it, this book is a lot of fun.”
—xoxoamore
“If you’re tired of the dozens of stories that whitewash BDSM—tales where the sub has more orgasms than stripes, where the first Master who recognizes her as a ‘natural submissive’ turns out be her soul mate, where her fear disappears with the first mild slap on her bare ass—check out this book. Ms. Tyler makes it clear that being a submissive isn’t necessarily easy. It’s a process of growth.”
—Erotica Revealed
“The kinky, red hot sex practically drips off the page in Dark Secret Love. Alison Tyler has created an erotic masterpiece! Be warned—once you start reading it’ll be hard to stop until you reach the book’s climax.”
—Rachel Kramer Bussel,
editor of The Big Book of Orgasms and
Cheeky Spanking Stories
“Dark Secret Love: A Story of Submission is not a story but a journey. I was expecting a story and was blown completely away…This book is not just well written but the ring of authenticity is striking.”
—Cocktails and Books
“Alison Tyler’s name will be known to anyone who has read more than one piece of erotic fiction. An accomplished editor, authoress and now publisher with Pretty Things Press, she writes with a fun-loving style that is instantly recognizable and easy to enjoy. And, although she’s been writing prolifically for more than a decade, there is no trace of any weariness in her work. Each line reflects the cheerful anticipation of a yearned for promise.”
—Ashley Lister,
Erotica Readers & Writers Association
“Finally, we have an erotic novel that steers clear of the ingenue-to-goddess trope in a delightful return to old-school erotica.”
—Romantic Times
“In a novel that blurs the line of memoir and metafiction, The Delicious Torment explores the darker emotions that are often so transfixing in Tyler’s work: shame, jealousy, self-discovery, even finding empowerment as a sub explores the role of the dom, revealing ever more tantalizing glimpses into the BDSM relationship dynamic. Fiction, semi-biography, or meta, it doesn’t matter. Alison Tyler shines as a literary voice in erotic fiction.”
—City Book Review
“One of the leading contemporary authors of erotica long before the E. L. James tsunami, American writer Tyler also explored when younger many of the dangerous detours of the BDSM world in her real life and, until now, had only documented this in her blog…Written as thinly fictionalised biography, this is both fascinating, scary and heartfelt but also profoundly humane, and shows that the unsettling quirks of the human mind and body can come in much more than fifty shades.”
—Lovereading.UK
“This coming-of-age story sees lead character Samantha entwined with an older man, a bondage connoisseur and her equal in every way, as she explores her master’s desires and her heart.”
—Adult Video News
“There are plenty of SM books out there now, but nobody does it with as much style and skill as Alison Tyler.”
—Sacchi Green, editor of Wild Girls, Wild Nights
“A brilliantly crafted and well-written story. I love the honesty in this series…it is what it is, and I love it!”
—Laila Blake, author of By the Light of the Moon
Also by Alison Tyler
A Is for Amour
Afternoon Delight
B Is for Bondage
Best Bondage Erotica
Best Bondage Erotica, Volume 2
The Big Book of Bondage
C Is for Coeds
Caught Looking (with Rachel Kramer Bussel)
D Is for Dress-Up
Dark Secret Love
The Delicious Torment
E Is for Exotic
Exposed
F Is for Fetish
Frenzy
G Is for Games
Got a Minute?
H Is for Hardcore
The Happy Birthday Book of Erotica
Heat Wave
Hide and Seek (with Rachel Kramer Bussel)
Hurts So Good
I Is for Indecent
J Is for Jealousy
K Is for Kinky
L Is for Leather
Love at First Sting
Luscious
The Merry XXXmas Book of Erotica
Morning, Noon, and Night
Naughty or Nice
Never Have the Same Sex Twice
Never Say Never
Open for Business
Playing with Fire
Pleasure Bound
Red Hot Erotica
Slave to Love
Sudden Sex
Three-Way
Twisted
Copyright © 2014 by Pretty Things Press.
All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, television, or online reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States by Cleis Press, Inc.,
2246 Sixth Street, Berkeley, California 94710.
Cover design: Scott Idleman/Blink
Cover photograph: Emmanuelle Brisson
Text design: Frank Wiedemann
First Edition.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62778-075-9
Contents
Introduction
Chapter One: It’s Raining, It’s Pouring
Chapter Two: Ashes and Diamonds
Chapter Three: The Reason of Sleep
Chapter Four: Wonderful Tonight
Chapter Five: Playing Dress-Up
Chapter Six: Light My Fire
Chapter Seven: Temptation
Chapter Eight: How Do You Make a Sadist?
Chapter Nine: Punish Me with Kisses
Chapter Ten: Coming Out
Chapter Eleven: All I’ve Got Tonight
Chapter Twelve: Ice Queens
Chapter Thirteen: Seven Days
Chapter Fourteen: Worrying, Wondering, Anticipating
Chapter Fifteen: Enough Pleasure
Chapter Sixteen: Mercy Me
Chapter Seventeen: Don’t Let Me Down
Chapter Eighteen: Meeting in the Middle
Chapter Nineteen: I Can’t Stand the Rain
Chapter Twenty: Why?
Chapter Twenty-One: Three Sunrises
Chapter Twenty-Two: Color Me
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Hand That Feeds
Chapter Twenty-Four: King of Pain
Chapter Twenty-Five: Crazy Little Thing
Chapter Twenty-Six: Don’t Worry, Baby
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Crash
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Want
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Day Six
Chapter Thirty: Breathe
Chapter Thirty-One: Secret Journey
Chapter Thirty-Two: Beauty
Chapter Thirty-Three: A Picture of You
Chapter Thirty-Four: Seven
Chapter Thirty-Five: The Number
Chapter Thirty-Six: Seven Sins
Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Question of Lust
Chapter Thirty-Eight: In My Shoes
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Love’s Language
Chapter Forty: Need You Tonight
Chapter Forty-One: Shallow
Chapter Forty-Two: And After
About the Author
Sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whiskey.
—Hunter S. Thompson
Introduction
Here I am. Ready or not.
I’m back with Jack and Alex—my man and his man. Or maybe I should say “both” of my men. Jack is my Dom. My Master. My lover. Alex is Jack’s assistant: young, attractive, blond, and completely dedicated. Not to me. No, Sir—not yet, at least—but to Jack. I’m learning more about their relationship every day.
Or every night.
And I’m learning about who I am, what I’m made of. What I can give and what I can take.
Wrapped Around Your Finger is filled with pain and pleasure, with raw lust and the most base of human emotions—jealousy. The chapters in this book overflow
But let’s get down to details. Let’s read the stage notes and make sure every prop is in place. Because I want to draw you in, to put you right in the scene with us. I need you there, seeing what I see, feeling what I feel.
I left you in The Delicious Torment with Jack and Alex and me… I left you in a bedroom, on a king-sized mattress, in a topsy-turvy world where happily ever after could include two Mr. Rights.
Now, I want to draw you back into that room. If I shut my eyes tight I can still smell the whiskey from his glass. Watch the flames flicker in the candles. Hear the sound of his voice…
Listen hard.
I want you to hear him, too.
XXX,
Alison Tyler
Chapter One:
It’s Raining, It’s Pouring
Fade in with a snip. A memory. A highlight from yesterday. Fade in…
“You’ve known,” he whispered next. “You have to have known. Alex’s been with me for years. We’re not…” he hesitated, rare for Jack, who always seemed to have the right words to say. “We’re not exactly lovers.” I knew he was being cautious because Alex was standing right there. “Not exactly. But…”
“But you have been,” I guessed, and Jack said, “Yes.”
Jack moved his body off mine, and he undid the cuffs. And then, while I watched, he snatched a shirt from his dresser drawer and handed the soft tee to me. I slipped on the shirt, swimming in the excess fabric, while Jack turned his attention to Alex. In moments, Alex was naked on the bed under Jack, Alex was being kissed and stroked and carefully attended to. Alex was being turned over, facedown on the mattress, while Jack lubed up his own cock with easy, thoughtful strokes. I sat on the chair against the wall, and I watched breathlessly as Jack fucked his assistant.
I wouldn’t have left if the room had been on fire. I was mesmerized. Unwilling to move. Unable to think. I watched, the way Jack liked to watch me, watched as he bucked against Alex, as he gripped Alex’s hips, as he rode the young blond with the smeared eyeliner and the ripe bottom lip.
“Can you deal with that? Can you live with that?”
I didn’t close my eyes. I didn’t turn away. I drank in every single second.
Once, at SFMOMA, I attended an unforgettable exhibit. A video screen was mounted on the floor in a small, darkened room, the screen facing up toward the ceiling. Displayed on the flat glass was an endless loop of people having sex—at least, that’s what the film appeared to be. You could see the naked back of the person on top, and by peering down you received a voyeur’s dream shot, watching the rocking motion, the rhythmic thrusting. The exhibit was the only item on display in the tiny space, and I never wanted to leave.
I wanted to stay and watch forever.
Could I live with what Jack was describing—or what I thought he was describing? Could I accept that Jack would never solely be mine?
In a way, that’s how I felt this evening. Except, of course, I could see more. I could see the faces, the expression of total concentration in Jack’s ocean eyes, the lust wash in waves over Alex. The echoes of desire. I could put myself easily into Alex’s place, less easily into Jack’s. I didn’t try to categorize my feelings; I only watched.
Later, I would ask myself how I’d felt. Later, I would try to force my emotions into the correct box. A Pandora’s box. An art-deco container labeled JEALOUSY. Or ENVY. Or DESIRE. But at the time, I was simply an audience member. It’s not cheating if you all agree to the rules, right? Nobody’s tearing a bond or breaking a promise. (Keep telling yourself that, I thought afterward. Keep changing the rules to fit the scene.)
I knew when Jack was going to climax. I knew because I’d seen that look on his face often enough when he was poised over me—or gazing at our reflections in a mirror. I saw the change in him. I saw him reach his peak, hold Alex’s hips even tighter, and then freeze before bucking forward, as he came, forcefully came, ferociously came.
Alex let loose seconds after, panting hard as he shot, collapsing on the mattress in the tangle of rumpled, damp white sheets.
I stayed where I was, as if I had been cuffed there. As if I had been commanded by Jack not to move. I stayed and watched as Jack slid his fingers along Alex’s fine muscled back, and then down his long torso, stroking him tenderly. And then I closed my eyes, as if I could feel the whisper of those fingertips on my own body. After several seconds—minutes?—Alex stood and headed down the hall to the shower. He seemed as dazed as I felt, lost in a world of our own creation. Jack wrapped the sheet around his naked body and leaned against the pillows. He didn’t smoke anymore, but Alex did, and for some reason I wasn’t at all surprised when he asked me to find him Alex’s pack of cigarettes and the matches.
I watched him light up and blow silvery smoke rings to the ceiling.
I waited for him to tell me something. To say something. Anything. To explain the whole evening to me. Instead, he remained silent, smoking, eyes on an invisible point in the distance. Until finally, finally, he said, “Who did you think the toy was for?”
“Alex,” I said automatically. I’d been sure I was destined to fuck Alex tonight. I would have bet money. And I would have lost.
“That’s where your smart little writer’s brain took you?”
“Yeah.”
He rolled over and stubbed out the cigarette in his empty whiskey glass.
“Come over here,” he said, and I climbed on the bed, sitting at his side, waiting. Still waiting.
“Lube yourself up.”
Now, my heart was pounding as if I’d been the one recently pummeled. I got it. But I didn’t get it. I understood. But I was lost in a haze of confusion.
“Use the lube and grease up your pretty cock.”
At his request, I poured a handful of the clear liquid into my palm and jerked my fist on the toy, the way Jack had shown me. Not like a girl this time. Not like a girl at all. Then I watched, my whole body illuminated as Jack rolled over on the mattress and waited for me, waited for me to understand.
Chapter Two
Ashes and Diamonds
“You know what to do. What I want you to do.” He wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t looking at anything. “So what the fuck are you waiting for?”
The two of us were alone in the room. I knew fully how it felt to be taken like this. And I knew how it felt to want to be taken like this. To want and to be denied. My ex-fiancé, Byron, had refused so many of my desires, had tamped down so many of my needs. He had made me feel damaged beyond repair, disgusting and unwanted. I would not do that to Jack, would not turn on the man I loved. So I started to slide that lube-drenched toy between the fine cheeks of Jack’s ass, and I felt hot tears streaking my face for no reason at all.
“Jesus fucking Christ, kid. What do you think I want from you? You think this is what I want?”
I was helpless. The tears blinded me. But my craving to please overpowered the fear. I didn’t want to fail. Alex wouldn’t have failed. But Alex was physically attached to his cock, and mine was synthetic and blue. Silly color choice. What the hell had I been thinking when I bought the device?
Jack was waiting, and I was letting him down.
His voice was sandpaper when he spoke again. He sounded distant, and yet I knew the power contained within the man right in front of me. “Don’t make me ask again.” The statement couldn’t have been simpler or more impossible to ignore. The words were weighted with unspoken threats.
I conjured every bit of power left in me to thrust forward, to let him feel it—that’s all he wanted. I understood. To feel it. He wanted to climb inside me, and there was no way for him to actually do this. He wanted to climb inside my body, to own every single part of me. To see what made my mind work. To feel the rush of the blood in my head.
And the blood was rushing.
I couldn’t hear anything other than the sound of my own heartbeat. But I was fucking him. Oh yes, I was. And maybe I gleaned a bit about Jack when I did this. Maybe the voodoo worked both ways. It was almost as if I climbed into his skin for a moment, seeing my man submitting to me. Even if this was all a big act. Even if Jack could switch the game in a flicker, pull forward, take control. But he didn’t.
“Harder now. Harder.”
This was a display of trust that he let me continue, and I started to feel the pulse beating only in my cunt. Started to feel the wetness and the heat take over. My fingernails grazed Jack’s skin, and then I pressed my body to his, my front to his back, and even while my hips were still rocking, I reached under him and touched his cock.
