Letting Go

By Scott Prussing

Letting Go is Book One in the 4 book Letting Go series.
Feeling bored and unfulfilled, Jennifer seeks excitement exploring the online personals. Driven by a need she does not fully understand, she responds to an ad that is definitely on the kinky side, never dreaming that she will actually follow through with a meeting. But on the other side of the ad is a man who seems able to peer inside her head and her heart at will. When Jennifer knocks on his door, she is drawn into a sensual and sexual world she never knew existed...
This book is rated XXX and is intended for MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scott Prussing
• Release date: Jun 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310250828

Scott Prussing

Scott Prussing was born in New Jersey, attended college and graduate school in Connecticut, but was smart enough to move to beautiful San Diego as soon as he received his Master's degree in psychology from Yale University. In addition to writing, Scott enjoys hiking, riding his bicycle at the beach, movies and golf. He is one of the few remaining people in the United States without a cell phone.

Book preview

LETTING GO

S. T. PRUSSING

This is a work of fiction. All the characters or events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or used fictitiously.

LETTING GO  

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by Scott Prussing Publishing    

All rights reserved.  

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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PROLOGUE

How on earth did I end up in this strange and vulnerable position?

A year ago, I didn’t know such a thing even existed.

Six months ago, I would have said Oh, my god! Do people really do that?

One month ago, I might have admitted the idea was intriguing and maybe even mildly titillating, but that I could never actually do it. No how. No way. You’d have to be crazy to do anything like that.

And yet, here I am. I’m not crazy—at least, I don’t think I am.

So now I’m standing with my feet spread far apart and my arms stretched up over my head, wrists together, wondering how I could have let myself end up like this.

Why am I standing in this awkward, slightly uncomfortable and very vulnerable position? That’s a perfectly logical question to ask, for sure. It might have something to do with my wrists being bound together by something soft, yet strong—silk ribbons, perhaps? Whatever it is, it’s fastened to what I imagine is a hook in the ceiling. My ankles are tied to a bar of some sort with the same material that binds my wrists. A spreader bar, he called it. The bar prevents me from pulling my legs together even slightly.

I’m sorry I can’t describe any of this for you in more precise detail, but I’m blindfolded.

And did I mention that I’m naked?

CHAPTER 1

I’ve always considered myself a pretty normal woman, leading a pretty ordinary life.

I have a job that pays the bills, a comfortable if not fancy apartment, a small circle of good friends, and a pretty nice collecton of books. I date occasionally, and even have sex now and then when I find a guy I like enough to go out with more than four or five times. The sex is fun, but ultimately unfulfilling, leaving me with a kind of empty feeling that’s difficult to describe.

You have to be in love, my girlfriends say, for sex to be more than just merely pleasurable, but I don’t know if that’s it. I was in love once. The sex was good, but never great, and I still remember feeling vaguely empty afterwards. Maybe I wasn’t in love enough.

I think that’s why I like reading so much. I’ll read almost anything—mystery, suspense, slice of life—but what I really love is romance. Contemporary is good, Historical is better, Paranormal is the best. I’ve fallen in love with any number of fictional boyfriends. So have many of my girlfriends.

Books are my true lovers—I’ve taken far more of them to bed than I have men. And I’ve been disappointed less often.

When Fifty Shades of Grey started making headlines, I resisted the clamor initially, but finally I decided I had to give it a look.

I won’t say it was like a light bulb suddenly went on inside my head, because it wasn’t like that at all. It was more like a small candle had been lit somewhere way off in the distance. But I was determined to follow the glow—to the internet, and eventually, to craigslist.

I find the men seeking women section to be too needy—and much too vanilla. I’m here for some harmless but exotic fun, not to read boring, ordinary ads. So I wander over to casual encounters. I read the ads with a mixture of wonder, fascination, disbelief, and occasionally, disgust. Do people really respond to these ads?

BJ in my Mercedes—I guess the fancy car is supposed to make a gal go weak in the knees and gratefully open her mouth.

Hot guy seek hotter slut—this guy included two pictures in his ad. His definition of hot is definitely not the same as mine, with or without his clothes. And since when is every guy hung or well-hung or packing a big one?" Not in my experience!

I have to wade through pages of this drek to find the kind of ads I’m interested in reading. Not replying to, of course—I’d never do that. I’m just reading. For research. And maybe for a bit of vicarious excitement.

Thanks to Fifty Shades, I know the keywords that will lead me to the ads I want. I scan down the list of headlines looking for them: dominant, submissive (or dom and sub), D/s, BDSM, slave, bondage, obedience and a few more. Any one of them in the headline is like a flashing light signaling over here. I click on every one I find.

Unfortunately, these ads are no better written than the others, and because of the subject matter, most manage to seem even sleazier. Some seem harmless enough—usually they don’t provide enough information to provoke much of a reaction. Guy seeks hot sub for nasty, sexciting encounters…send pic and phone number, is not very exciting or offensive—and not likely to draw any responses, either.

Other ads, though, take the sex ad thing to a whole different level. It’s one thing to invite a girl over for a lunch time blowjob, but when you start telling her you’re gonna make her choke on your thick tool and hot cum while she’s on her knees with her hands tied behind her back, and that she’s going to beg you for more, it starts to sound more than a little crass. Or maybe that’s just me.

I plow through at least a dozen ads like that before I finally give up. No way could I ever respond to one of these.

So why is my left hand rubbing lightly between my legs? And why does it feel so very, very good?

CHAPTER 2

Thoroughly chastened and a bit disgusted by my craigslist adventure, I vowed to put all this dom/sub stuff behind me. I mean, sometimes fantasy is supposed to remain just that, right?—a fantasy.

So why am I sitting here at my computer the very next night, staring once again at the craigslist menu? I could tell myself I’m here to check out the books for sale section, but my cursor is hovering over casual encounters again. I shake my head and sigh, then click my mouse. Up pop the ads.

Promising myself to be more discriminating this time, I begin to scan the headlines. I’m not going to open any ads whose headlines don’t show at least a modicum of creativity. Hung Dom seeks sub slut is not going to cut it today—not that a hung Dom would be a bad thing, of course.

Skimming down the list, I almost miss it. Fifty-ONE shades of grey. Experienced guide seeks curious explorer.

That’s me—a curious explorer. I definitely need an experienced guide, and the fifty-ONE shades part is moderately clever, a clear signal of what the ad is about while also hinting there are things above and beyond the book.

Pulse quickening slightly, I open the ad. The first part captures me immediately.

"Come to the edge," he told me.

"It’s too high," I say.

"Come to the edge."

"I might fall."

"Come to the edge."

I came. He pushed. I flew!

My heart is beating fast now and I’m feeling warm between my legs. I definitely would love to fly!

I read on.

Do you love to please and love to obey? Are ready for what could be the most sensual relationship of your life?

I’ve always loved to please. I’m not sure about the obeying part, but it sounds like it could be freeing. I’m certainly ready for the most sensual relationship of my life—who wouldn’t be?

This is not the flavor of the month for me. I have been in several wonderful D/s relationships over the years. So if a safe, experienced guide is what you are seeking, keep reading.

I don’t know if I’m really seeking a guide, but if I do, safe and experienced are a must. I like his not the flavor of the month phrase, too. If it’s true, it means he’s not some newbie wannabe trying to cash in on the Fifty Shades craze.

How does this sound to you? You walk in the door and immediately drop to your knees, placing your forehead to the floor. How may I please you, Master? you ask. I walk behind you and run a finger tenderly down your spine. You begin to quiver and your juices begin to flow. You know the journey is about to begin.

Holy shit! My fingers are drumming nervously on my desk and my juices are definitely beginning to flow. I’m not sure I like the effect this guy’s ad is having on me. It’s like his words are reaching deep inside me and tugging at something I didn’t even know was there.

I'm not into anything hardcore—nothing sick or twisted, nothing sadistic. I enjoy blindfolding, some bondage, obedience, sexual service, teasing, orgasm control, spanking, more.

Nothing sick or twisted or sadistic is a relief—but could I ever trust a guy like this enough to believe what he says? I don’t see how. That word more at the end is kind of scary, too.

I don't smoke or do drugs and I’m looking for an ongoing relationship. You should be the same.

Smoke free and drug free are good. And an ongoing relationship is much better than a one-nighter, for sure.

Whoa, I tell myself. I’m starting to think like I’m actually going to respond to this guy and meet him, which is totally ridiculous. Who cares what kind of relationship he’s looking for, or if he smokes or does drugs? He’s just some anonymous guy who wrote a mildly compelling ad, that’s all. He’s a good writer—so what? Besides, he’s obviously looking for someone who knows what they’re doing with this stuff.

So why am I still reading? And why are my panties so wet?

You can be experienced or merely curious. Curious is better, though.

Well, scratch the notion that he wants someone experienced. He prefers someone curious—someone like me.

This type of relationship is not easy to find, when it happens, it can be amazing.

Hmmmm… a girl would be a fool to say no to amazing, wouldn’t she?

If you are ready to take the next step, tell me a bit about yourself and your desires. No one line replies. Put Pleasing in your subject line so I know you can follow directions.

Am I ready? That’s a big, resounding no, thank you very much. But if I was ready, I’d put Pleasing in the subject line, for sure, because I’m very good at following directions. Instead, I click the X in the upper right hand corner and the ad disappears, taking craigslist with it. I let out a big sigh. Whether it’s a sigh of relief or resignation—or something else, even—I’m not entirely sure.

A little more than an hour later, I’m back at my computer. I tried reading for distraction but had difficulty concentrating. I switched to the television since that’s so much more mindless, but my thoughts kept straying back to that damn ad.

So here I am. I clear my email and then play on facebook for a while, but now I’m all caught up with everyone and everything. It’s either shut down my computer for the night or return to craigslist. Maybe if I’m lucky, his ad will be gone—taken down because he’s already found the naughty girl of his dreams. I guess, I should check, right? Just out of curiosity, to see if he’s found happiness? Even if the ad is still there, I don’t have to open it. And I most certainly don’t have to respond to it.

See? No problem. I have all kinds of options. Nothing to worry about.

I open craigslist. The ad will be easy to find. Any ads I opened earlier will be highlighted purple, making them easy to spot.

I scroll down the first page and see it near the bottom.

Staring at the darkened headline, I feel the familiar heat begin to grow between my legs. As my best friend Amanda would say, it’s time to crap or get off the pot. I open the ad.

"Come to the edge," are the first words I see. Part of me wants to, desperately, but another part of me is shouting no way.

"It’s too high." Yes, it’s definitely too high—way, way too high. I might fall. That’s right, I could fall—and break something inside me. The danger is real, in more ways than one.

He pushed. I flew!

I want to fly! I really do. But flying can be even more dangerous than standing near the edge. What’s a girl supposed to do?

I know what a smart, sensible girl would do. She would leave the fire alone. Playing with fire can get you burned. But then a line from an old song pops into my head…something about good girls going to heaven but bad girls getting to go everywhere. Right now, going everywhere sounds kind of fun.

I can’t decide.

I get up from my chair and grab a quarter from my dresser. Since I can’t make a decision, I’ll leave it up to fate. Heads I respond, tails I don’t. What could be fairer, right?

Using my thumb, I flip the coin into the air and watch it bounce on my bed. Tails. I’m safe. I don’t have to respond. Phew.

Two out of three, a voice whispers inside my head. Before I know it, I’m flipping the coin again. It’s heads this time.

This is ridiculous. I’m a smart, attractive, moderately successful woman. I certainly don’t need a stupid coin to tell me what to do. I leave the quarter atop the bed and sit back down at my desk. The ad is still there, tempting me. The fingers of my left hand drum lightly on the desktop. I look down. My right hand is rubbing myself again. I yank my hand away from my pants and grab the mouse. This has got to stop. I need to close this ad now.

Instead, I click on reply.

A blank email opens up. The white space is less tempting than the ad, but in some ways feels even more dangerous. I hesitate for a moment, then type Pleasing in the subject line. I told you I’m good at following directions. But what now?

I stare at the screen, fumbling with my thoughts. I type Hi, but after that, I’m coming up blank.

I try several opening lines, but discard them all.

I liked your ad…boring!

Your ad spoke to me,…cheesy!

What’s a nice girl like me doing answering an ad like yours?…Oh, god, that might be the worst one yet!

I decide on simplicity…and honesty. I’m very curious, I write. I’m also terribly nervous and wonderfully excited. I trust that you’ll understand.

I proceed to tell him everything I’ve been thinking and feeling since I discovered his ad. I give him my age and my height, and then briefly describe myself in very general terms—fit and reasonably attractive, with long brown hair and hazel blue eyes. I finish by saying I’m completely new to all this and that I hope to hear back from him.

I don’t reread any of it. I know if