Tied in to Love

By Iron Rodd

Men topping women, women topping men, women topping women, and men topping men. This wide-ranging collection has a little of everything, and a lot of loving, light bondage (that is, bondage without the pain). Loving couples and groups enjoying their sexuality in non-traditional ways.

If you’re looking for a little fantasy to help you get off, or some ideas to take into the bedroom with that special someone, you’ll find a lot of inspiration between these covers.

If you don’t like bondage, public display, humiliation, or sexual servitude, this book isn’t for you. But if you’re open to alternate experiences, this is the book you’re yearning for.

In these fourteen stories and three vignettes, you’ll encounter:
* a woman experiencing her first convention, on a leash
* the fun that ensues when sisters marry brothers, and then decide to own them
* a girl, a suitcase, and day of outdoor bondage
* the shifting boundary between art and artist
* picking and choosing which body parts you’ll most enjoy
* the fun and pleasure to be had in the gym
* a costume party where it may be better to lose your pants than your shirt
* how many ways one can give pleasure, when not expecting any in return
* just how long a long-distance relationship can be, and how frustrating
* a bondage-based way to shake your inhibitions

Grab this collection for a good, sexy read, alone or together. You know you want to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gray Rabbit Publications / Fantastic Books
• Release date: Jun 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311484017

Book preview

Tied in to Love:

Bondage without Pain

by Iron Rodd

Copyright

© 2014 by Gray Rabbit Publications, LLC

Smashwords Edition

Four of these stories previously appeared online and are copyright © 2012: Convention Slave, Sheathing that Desire, In My Case, and Body Servant. The rest are original to this volume, and copyright © 2014.

This is a collection of fiction for mature audiences only. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.

This book contains mature themes which may be disturbing to some. If you are offended by graphic depictions of sexuality, please read a different book.

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except for brief quotations for review purposes only.

Gray Rabbit Publications, LLC

1380 East 17 Street, Suite 2233

Brooklyn, New York 11230

www.FantasticBooks.biz

Print ISBN 10: 1-61720-949-X

Print ISBN 13: 978-1-61720-949-9

First Edition

Table of Contents

The Bud Vase: A Verbal Vignette

Convention Slave

Two Pair Can Be a Sexy Handful

In My Case

Emptying My Balls, Without the Pleasure

Caught Up in the Art Work

Mind-Fuck Buddies

Body Servant

Body Sculpting

Locking Away My Inhibitions

Working It Out

Sheathing that Desire

The Divided Woman

Just the Tongue

Mercurial and Sexy

Milking Time

Locking Up the Holidays

The Bud Vase

A Verbal Vignette

I have an idea for a photo. Could you change into your long black peasant skirt?

And what else?

Nothing else, please.

She quirked an eyebrow at me, but headed to the bedroom. She’s a sport.

While she was gone, I positioned the St. Andrew’s Cross in front of a black backdrop, dimmed the room’s lights, adjusted the spotlights to highlight my soon-to-be-present object of desire, and grabbed a few props.

Okay, how do you want me, she asked, as she sashayed back in.

For starters, I just wanted to ogle and admire her, but I knew she wouldn’t stand for just standing there too long. If you’ll just step this way, my dear, I took her hand and led her to the cross.

She was compliant, neither helping nor hindering, as I fastened her wrists to the cuffs on the upper arms of the cross, and her ankles to the lowers.

I popped a small ball gag into her mouth. It wasn’t enough to silence her if she wanted to be heard, but she understood I meant her to remain quiet.

Then I released the locking pin and rotated the cross a hundred and eighty degrees, so her legs were up and her arms were down. I relocked the cross, and stepped back to see that, just as I’d planned, her skirt had flipped down, covering her upper body, and leaving her bare from the waist up to her toes. I smoothed out the skirt where it was bunched up behind her body, and then admired the half of her that had been hidden under the skirt when she was standing upright.

Stepping close to her, I licked between her legs, bringing up some moisture, which sparkled in the spotlights.

Grabbing the test tube I’d prepared, I rubbed it in my palms to make sure it was warm. Then I gently inserted it into her now-glistening pussy. It was far smaller than many of the things we’ve played with, so I knew it wouldn’t cause her any distress, other than unfamiliarity. When the test tube was properly seated, I put the rosebud into my new little bud vase. (I’d made sure to remove the thorns.)

I stepped back to admire the tableau: perfect. A bright red rose atop a green stem between milky white thighs on a black background. The ultimate flower vase.

I took the picture I’d been dreaming of. I took several. I made sure I had a great shot, something much prettier than an actual flower in a vase on my desk.

As I removed all the props, and then rotated her back to a head-up, non-vase position, I was torn between telling her what I’d done, showing her the picture, or not telling her. I eventually settled on only showing her the picture after I’d printed it out and framed it for my desk.

It’s beautiful, she said. But where’s my copy?

Convention Slave

I want to go with you to the science fiction convention next weekend, Michelle said.

It was a bit of a surprise to me. We’d been sleeping together for a few months, and though she was interested in my life, she wasn’t very interested in my sf habit.

That’d be great, I said.

She winked at me. It’s not the panels and stuff that interest me. I remember you talking about the stuff that goes on ‘after hours.’ I think I’m ready to take a chance.

That was the big surprise. Michelle is great: really cute, with long dark hair and a rockin’ little bod, but she’s rather shy in public.

What did you have in mind, I asked. Trying not to get my hopes up too far.

Your slave girl, on a leash. Like Princess Leia, in a skimpy bikini and under your control.

She really did want to make my dreams come true. That sounds great!

#

It wasn’t the brass bikini from the movie, but Michelle did find a skimpy little black, leather number that got my engine revving. I added a long black cloak, and cuffs for her wrists and ankles.

Standing still, with the cloak covering her, she seemed almost Victorian: all covered up but for a little bit of ankle showing over her sandals. But walking, I knew (and she’d soon find out), it would be a completely different picture, as the cloak billowed behind her.

One more addition, I suggested. A domino mask. Everyone is going to want to take your picture, so the anonymity of the mask—

She immediately understood.

#

Driving to the convention, I suggested she wear the mask the whole weekend, regardless of what else she was wearing. Since she’d never been around these people, the air of mystery might make her a little more comfortable. And we got her a badge that just read Rodd’s. She purred at that.

Friday evening we stayed in our regular street clothes, while I showed her around the convention. We looked in on some panels, walked through the dealers’ room, and ogled some of the hall costumes. Late night we walked in and out of parties and the dealers’ row rooms, and I surreptitiously watched Michelle admiring the bondage gear and costumes in one room. Soon, I thought.

She was eager in bed that night (well, I can’t blame her: I was just as ready).

Saturday was a good day of talking with friends, and enjoying our mini-vacation.

It was after dinner that Michelle decided she was ready to take her first plunge in public cosplay. She asked me to give her a half hour alone in the room while she changed, so she could surprise me with the complete picture, and I readily agreed.

I wandered down to the bar for a drink with a Tom and Sarah, asking them to help me out when we ran into each other at the parties later. They readily agreed to help make Michelle’s slave debut a bit more memorable.

After half an hour, I was back at our room, knocking on the door.

I’m ready, I heard from inside, and I opened the door.

There she was, standing in her black leather bikini, hands behind her back, hair straight down. Though I knew her body intimately, it was as if I’d never seen her before. I was ready to grab her and take her to bed right that moment.

Are you ready, slave, I asked, in a menacing voice.

She giggled. I think so. She held out her hands to me, to attach the cuffs, and I buckled them on. The same with her ankles. Then I showed her the collar. She nodded, and then picked up her chin.

Then I shook out the cloak, and tied it around her neck. She was my little goddess.

Are you ready for your debut, I asked.

She shivered a little, and then said Yep. Let’s go.

We walked to the door. Oh, I said. Remember your room key and ID.

Already got them in here, she said huskily, pointing to her little leather bra.

On the party floor, I could tell at once Michelle was the object of a lot of male attention (and some female attention, too). She took my hand, and grinned up at me.

In one party, I pushed her into a dark corner, and kissed her, deeply.

She responded instantly, almost frantically.

As we were kissing, I took a carabiner off my belt. Then I took her hands in mine, pushed them behind her back, and slipped the carabiner into the rings on her cuffs, locking them behind her back.

She gave a little shiver, but didn’t say anything.

Then I took a leash out of my pouch, and clipped it to the ring on her collar as I nibbled on her ear. She shivered more. Okay, I whispered in her ear.

She grinned up at me. Yes, sir.

Okay. If you’re uncomfortable, just tell me. And if it gets too crowded, just walk very close to my back.

Then I stepped back, led her out of the party room, and down the hall to another.

Your slave is cute. It was Tom, who I’d talked to in the bar. Is she available for rent?

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Michelle’s eyes widen. This was a friend she hadn’t been introduced to.

Well, I drawled, watching Michelle squirm, not tonight. But maybe another time.

She relaxed visibly.

I bent down and kissed her neck, just above the collar. Then we made our way over to the bar, and I got a drink.

None for me, she asked.

That’s not a very slave-like attitude, I said. But I held my cup to her lips, so we could share it.

Then Sarah came up to us. Sarah likes boys and girls. How experienced is your little pet, she asked me.

Not very, I said. Why? Do you think you could train her?

Well, Sarah said, licking her lips suggestively. She might make an interesting diversion. How is she with women?

Michelle’s face paled suddenly, but I pretended not to notice. She tugged at the leash, and I tugged back.

I think I’ll manage her training personally, at least for now.

You set that up, didn’t you, she whispered to me when I bent down to kiss her.

I winked. Worried?

But I could see her nipples crinkle up with pleasure.

What are you thinking now?

I’m thinking I’m so hot for you that if my hands weren’t locked behind my back, they’d be in your pants.

Hmm, a needy slave who knows what she wants.

I led her out of the party, and to the elevators, where I rubbed up against her.

On our floor, I led her down the hall to our room, and then kept on walking, jerking her leash as she stopped at the door.

But I thought—

I cut her off. No, we’re going to look in on another party.

We walked to the end of the hall, and into the stairwell. As the door closed, I pushed her up against the wall and kissed her, hard and fast. Then I led her up the stairs to the next floor, and out to another party.

We only stayed a few minutes, before I took us back down to