Between The Lines Page 2

  “So, since you’ve just finished your Lazy Days book and it’s with the editor, you can start to formulate your new dark romance hit.”

  “Sounds wonderful, except for one thing…I’m not a very knowledgeable source on dark romance.”

  Most of the authors of dark romance were actually very much into dark romance, and I was willing to bet that the majority of them actually lived those fantasy filled lives.

  “Research, Amy. Easy enough to do. Here, look…”

  Samantha handed me her phone which had a login screen to Kinky Links. I squinted to see what the tagline said and read it out loud.

  “We link your kink to other kinky folks,” I said and gave Samantha a look that we’ve come to recognize as an “Are you out of your mind?,” look.

  “What? It’s an actual site for kinky people,” Samantha said.

  “It sounds like some pay for sex site or something,” I said quietly.

  “It’s not. It’s a social media platform full of people who live these kind of lives,” Samantha gestured over to the dark romance aisle. “People who live the lives of the characters in their books.”

  “Visiting that site isn’t going to give me enough knowledge to write a novel,” I said.

  “No, it won’t,” she agreed. “But, it will put you in touch with people who are familiar with BDSM and live it. You can find forums and pose questions.”

  “How will I know that the info they’re giving me is good and that they’re not just messing with me?”

  She rolled her eyes at me.

  “Make a profile tonight and poke around a bit. I imagine you can probably verify and confirm info with others on there,” Samantha said.

  Through the rest of the book event, I thought about the next book and decided that I would look into making a profile tonight on Kinky Links. Even though I told myself that this was purely for research, I was also excited about looking into this lifestyle. I’ve read lots of books, and while I don’t know a lot, I at least know that the lifestyle is made up of deep connections and I was already intrigued by rope bondage.

  Samantha and I decided to go grab a quick dinner at a sit-down chain restaurant. We were both exhausted, and my voice was nearly gone after talking so much through the day.

  “So, you met some really nice people today, huh?” Samantha asked as we opened our menus.

  “Yes, lots of great people and I think we may have picked up some new readers too. Wasn’t Jen just the sweetest thing?”

  “She was. She’s already posted her picture with you,” Samantha said and turned her phone around for me to see it.

  I smiled at it and was glad that I have fans like that.

  “So, are you going to look into Kinky Links?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Mmmhmm,” Samantha said in one of those insinuating tones.

  “What? It’s for work,” I reminded her.

  “Right…work, sure,” she joked. “Remind yourself that it’s for work when you’re playing with yourself while gazing at some sexy pictures.”

  I rolled my eyes at her as we laughed and joked through dinner. I knew she was right though; I was most certainly going to look.

  I tapped my fingernail on my couch cushion as I stared at the prompt to select a username for the Kinky Links website.

  “Hmm,” I mused out loud.

  I tried to think of what I could use as a username. Something that enticed me beyond the books that I’ve read. Reaching back into my not so distant past, cuffs and bondage interested me.

  “CuffedNBound,” I typed.

  Kinky Links popped up with a prompt to create a password, and I quickly accepted my laptops’ randomly generated password. There. The account was created, and I began bouncing around looking at pictures and reading articles. To say that it held my attention would be an understatement because when I glanced at the clock, nearly four hours had passed.

  “Damn, Amy,” I sighed as I set the laptop to the side and stood to stretch. “I have no life,” I said to myself.

  Knowing that I needed to get some sleep, I planned on taking a shower and then crashing into bed. Yet after the shower, I grabbed my tablet and went right back to browsing on Kinky Links.

  I found a directory of dungeons and clubs in the area and surrounding area and browsed their respective group pages. If I planned on pushing a book out relatively quickly, I needed to reach out to someone.

  But, who to trust?

  I found a few of the local dungeon forums and posted the same comments in their general thread. It was a no bullshit post, just quick and straightforward.

  Looking for some guidance and questions to be answered.

  Hopefully, someone would respond. I plugged my tablet in to charge for the night and crawled into bed. Actually, I hoped someone reputable would respond.

  Chapter 2

  January

  Amy

  Hi, I saw your post on the dungeon group page and would be happy to help. Message me with some of your questions, and I’ll see if I’m able to assist. Talk soon, J.P.

  I stared at this message while I sipped on my coffee. Fabulous, I thought. I needed some time to think of exactly what I wanted to ask, so I spent the morning texting back and forth with Samantha about other book things and possible things to ask.

  Samantha suggested that I needed to be honest up front and tell this J.P. character why I have questions.

  “That way he’ll know right out of the gate that you’re not looking to hook up,” Samantha said on the phone to me while I emptied my dishwasher.

  “What? I thought you said this wasn’t that kind of site?” I wasn’t able to hide my frustration.

  “It’s not. Mostly. But you know, I think it would be best if you prefaced that. Just in case.”

  I rolled my eyes. Samantha is notorious for encouraging me to do things, but then her mother instinct will kick in and she’ll toss out an open-ended warning. Her warnings are always phrased with a “just in case.” It’s like she doesn’t want to scare me off from things, so the “just in case” is her gentle blanket warning.

  “Okay thank you, Sam,” I said into the phone.

  “Though, you might enjoy hooking up with a bad ass kinky guy, Aims. It’s been a while since you and Chris split and I’m sure you’d enjoy a non-silicone fuck.”

  “Um, hello? I don’t even know if J.P. is a guy or a girl. J.P. could just be their initials, so that could be anyone,” I said, completely ignoring her comment about my ex…or my method of getting off right now.

  While I half listened to Samantha on the phone, I jotted down a quick grocery list and decided after I got off the phone that I’d head to the store. Then I’d reply to this J.P. person.

  “Give me his handle, I’ll look him up on Kinky Links,” Sam requested.

  “What? You’re on Kinky Links?” Stunned, the question flew out of my mouth before I could filter it down.

  “Yeah. You know I have non-vanilla needs. How do you think I met Ryan?”

  “Are you serious? You met Ryan on Kinky Links? The Ryan you married? The Ryan I know? That Ryan is on Kinky Links?”

  “Yes. We have a few secrets that we keep behind our doors.”

  “Yeah, locked doors. My God, I can’t believe you never told me! Do I even know you?” I laughed.

  “Well, it’s not exactly a conversation starter.”

  I needed to get off the phone. I was having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that my best friend met her husband on Kinky Links. I knew she wasn’t shy when it came to anything sex-related. She often blurts things out when I’d apply a filter.

  “Okay, I’m on a bit of info overload now. I’m going to run to the store and then I’ll reply to J.P.”

  “Wait! Before you go, give me their handle.”

  “Why?”

  “Think of it as doing my job. I’m checking this person out to make sure they’re not a weirdo.”

  “And how can you tell?” I sarcastica
lly asked.

  “If their profile says their fetishes include tying up authors, I’m going to have to advise you to pass.”

  I shook my head.

  “Bye, Sam. I will catch you later.”

  I hurried out and did the few errands I had planned. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud in the car as I thought about how Samantha and Ryan met. More questions would definitely follow from her tossing that little bit out in the air.

  Once I was back home and settled in at my desk, I woke my laptop up and logged onto the Kinky Links site. I now had five new messages in response to my posts last night.

  “Let’s take a look at the new ones,” I quietly said out loud to no one but myself.

  Dear CuffedNBound,

  Do you have a nude picture?

  Hmm, delete. Moving right along to the next one.

  Hey CuffedNBound,

  Do you have a preference for metal cuffs or furry, soft cuffs?

  Ugh. I closed that one and moved onto one from a dungeon up in L.A. called Club Skin.

  Hi CuffedNBound,

  Thank you for posting on our main group thread. Our dungeon hosts seminars and workshops on a variety of topics and we might have one scheduled in the near future on the topic you had questions about. Let me know the topic of most of your questions and I can check our schedule.

  Admins of Club Skin

  How nice. I quickly typed out a response to Club Skin.

  Dear Club Skin,

  Thank you for your response. I’m actually an author working on a dark romance and while I am slightly familiar with the BDSM lifestyle, there are many fine details that I’m in the dark about. So, I would be very interested in perhaps a general workshop or seminar to gain more knowledge. Please let me know if your club has anything like that on the upcoming schedule.

  CuffedNBound

  I almost accidentally typed my actual name but corrected it to CuffedNBound. I moved to the fourth new message.

  Dear CuffedNBound,

  Attached you will find some articles geared towards beginners. Take a look and let me know if you have any questions.

  I saved this message as the articles could be of use and I’d read them tonight. The fifth message was a picture of a very long, photo-shopped dick.

  “Lovely,” I said as I hit the delete button.

  Okay, so a few were helpful. I opened the message up from J.P. again. This message was still the most personable.

  “Let’s see what’s in your profile, J.P.,” I said out loud as I clicked on the handle JPFever.

  I quickly skimmed the profile that popped up for JPFever…male, sadist. My mind stalled on the word, “sadist.” One word came to mind: pain. I focused on the profile.

  Walks on the beach don’t excite me, but watching someone walk barefoot on a bed of overturned seashells does. Life is too short to hide behind a label, so I don’t subscribe to one. I don’t fit a single mold, as I am as complex as original. If you were to slap a label on me, the closest one that would fit me would be a sadist. And since this site doesn’t let me pick multiple “labels,” the sadist one is what I’ve selected. My goal is to meet the needs of my play partners, while also meeting my own needs.

  I take this lifestyle very seriously; it means everything to me. It fulfills everything in me. I’m an active member of the lifestyle in my community and hold a spot on the board of members for my local dungeon. Being on the board means a lot to me because I enjoy helping new Dominants grow into great Dominants.

  I read it a few more times. While he comes across as very confident and proud, he doesn’t seem like an asshole. I decided to glance at some of the photos he had posted. The majority of them were pictures of women, but there were a few men, and they were all bound in some fashion and most had red markings on their bodies. Most of the women were bound in rope and the red marks were mainly on their breasts, but some had them on their butts or legs. In taking another look at the male pictures, I saw they were bound in chains and their lash marks were primarily located on their backs and butts.

  Mmm, some of those guys had fine asses. Minus the red marks.

  The males and female subjects all seemed to be in their early to mid-twenties. All the captions listed the subjects name following either the word “sub” or “slave.”

  Were these all subs or slaves of his at some point, or just play partners?

  There was a static male in many of the pictures, which I deduced was JPFever. While most pictures didn’t seem to have him in a head to toe shot, or a full-on facial shot, I could still see enough. He was a good-looking guy and certainly didn’t look like a man that was nearly fifty years old. In some of the pictures he had chest hair and in others he didn’t. I’m guessing he was a fan of shaving it from time to time.

  Enough staring; time to message him back.

  Hi J.P.,

  Thank you for responding to my message last night. I’m an author and I’m working on a novel with characters in the BDSM lifestyle. While I don’t have a lot of knowledge, my feet are slightly damp and I’m not entirely a novice.

  One question I have right off the bat is what is a non-clinical or sterile way to describe the difference between a “sub” and a “slave?”

  Thanks again for your time,

  CuffedNBound

  I looked over my message and was satisfied with it. I explained who I was, what I was doing and posed a question. Seemed like a great start. We’ll see how he replies or if he replies. I decided to send Samantha a text.

  Amy: Sent J.P. a message. And yes, he’s very much a male.

  I set the phone down and began working on an outline for my new book. Before my fingers even hit the keys on the keyboard, my phone alerted me to an incoming text.

  Samantha: Handle?

  I felt no reservation in giving her his handle because I knew that he was an actual person and he was easy on the eyes. At least the part of him that I could see, he was easy on my eyes…assuming those were pictures of him.

  Amy: JPFever.

  My phone was quiet now and I was able to get some work done. I was pleased with my outline so far and would begin digging a little deeper to fill in the blanks. It was a few hours from the last time I heard from Samantha when my phone notified me of a new text.

  Samantha: He’s a hot sadist.

  Amy: Yeah, I don’t think he’s too hard to look at.

  Samantha: God, I wish there was a picture of him hard.

  I rolled my eyes and set my phone back down, but it continued to be assaulted by Samantha’s rapid-fire texts.

  Samantha: Did you see that sexy splattering of chest hair? There aren’t too many pics with his face in profile view.

  Samantha: He’s muscular, but not too bulky. I could bounce coins off that stomach of his.

  Samantha: Would you walk across overturned seashells for him? It would have been romantic for him to say that he’d carry a woman across a bed of overturned seashells so his feet would get cut and not the woman’s. Sadist.

  I finally just picked up the phone and called Samantha. I couldn’t take the constant texting.

  “Did you see the pictures with the boob bondage?”

  “Yes, Sam. I skimmed through some of the pictures,” I said while I logged back into Kinky Links.

  “What did you think of those hot young guys all wrapped up in chains?” she asked.

  I flipped back to the images of the guys. They were easy on the eyes, too.

  “Poor little, young, ripped looking guys,” Samantha said in a sad mocking voice.

  “I think they’re probably enjoying it. I mean, look; all of them are hard,” I said as I clicked through the pictures of the guys.

  Samantha and I opened up the profiles of the guys featured in JPFever’s photo album. We commented on how all the guys ranged between twenty-one and twenty-four.

  “He’s got a thing for younger, model looking type of guys. Some kind of look hungry,” I commented as I noticed how many of the guys’ ribs were visible. “Ma
ybe he feeds them after he chains them and beats them,” I suggested.

  “Yeah, feeds them his dick,” Samantha added.

  I laughed at her suggestion of the feeding after the beating, and then we laughed uncontrollably about “feeding after the beating.”

  Samantha and I continued to look through some of J.P.’s pictures, and as they opened up on my screen in a larger view, we’d make some comment or observation about them.

  “Here’s another hungry guy,” Sam said as we both opened up a picture of a guy on his knees with his arms chained behind his back.

  “Do you think sub Douglas is smiling or grimacing?” I asked and turned my head sideways to consider a smile or grimace.

  “Hmm, sub Douglas is smiling. Look at that bulbous, purple cock head, oozing the pre-cum. Next,” Sam said as we moved along the pictures.

  The next one I opened looked a little different than the ones we’ve seen so far. This image seemed to be taken at a distance and was of a younger guy tying up a woman. As I read the caption to myself, Samantha read it out loud as she saw it.

  “Not mine, yet.” Samantha paused and we were both trying to zoom in on the girl. “Obviously he’s got his eye on her,” she said.

  “Looks like it was taken a few years ago, or posted a few years ago, at least. Maybe we’ll see her further in the slew of pictures,” I said.

  After another ten or fifteen pictures, we hit another one where the caption read: Not mine…yet. This picture was another one taken from a distance of a guy tying a woman’s feet. Then another four or five images in there was another photo from a distance with the caption that read: Not mine…yet. This photo had a woman suspended from the ceiling by rope and a man was hitting her with something.

  “Wow, I’d say there is a lady out there who has his heart and he plans on making her his,” I said and clicked on the next image.