Learning the Ropes

By H Birchwood, Key Dyson and Raymond Roach

After stumbling into the middle of an alarming scene, Rich Merrill finds himself invited to a kind of game he's never tried before. His adventurous friend Liam is more than happy to introduce him to Jordan, a mature and confident dom. Together, they’re delighted to spend as much time as it takes to introduce Rich to some good, kinky fun.

Features: bdsm, roleplay, boundary negotiations, enthusiastic consent.
Content warnings: referenced past sexual assault, trauma response, anxiety.
Written by Hannah Birchwood, Raymond Roach and Key Dyson. All characters in this book are above eighteen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: H Birchwood
• Release date: Jun 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005679804

H Birchwood

Writes, draws. Lives in Ohio, unfortunately.

Book preview

Learning the Ropes

A Story of the Michigan Fleet

Raymond Roach, Hannah Birchwood & Key Dyson

Copyright 2022 Raymond Roach, Hannah Birchwood & Key Dyson

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents

Learning the Ropes

About Raymond Roach

About Key Dyson

About Hannah Birchwood

Other Books by These Authors

Learning the Ropes

One hot, golden summer afternoon, Rich Merrill flies out to visit a friend on the Genesis, skimming low enough over Lake Michigan that the deck-hopper's thruster fans ruffle the baked-silver surface of the water into a lacy wake. Today’s his day off, so instead of spending the day providing AI tech support for the many and varied watercraft that comprise the Free Society of the Michigan Fleet and marveling over the many and varied ways that the Fleet’s citizens have managed to completely fuck up a boat’s brain, he flew out in the early morning to the Mall to actually use some of his hard-earned work credits. Rich has spent all morning roaming the vast decks of the converted oil tanker, eating anything that could be deep-fried on a stick, dipped in syrup, or both, watching the live performers juggle and play music and do magic tricks, buying a number of interestingly stupid landside souveniers, and just generally feeling extremely decadent.

Stomach full, heart light, and hands carefully washed, Rich is extremely optimistic about how the rest of the day is going to go. He found an extra small t-shirt that should be in Liam’s size, with two watermelon halves over the chest area like red and green cleavage, and the word JUICY printed underneath in glittery red script. Rich isn’t the most confident when it comes to giving presents, but he’s 99% sure Liam’s going to love it.

Only it turns out that Liam’s not in immediate evidence when Rich lands his deck-hopper on the superyacht’s aft landing deck. Liam’s sexy red hoverbike is parked in its usual spot, the back cargo rack empty, so he should be home, but he doesn’t show up to greet Rich when Rich sheepishly knocks on the entryway. Rich's belated, questioning ping bounces back from Liam’s comms, too. This could indicate any number of things, from Liam being off-ship to asleep to very busy, but he doesn't get a go away signal either, and the door is unlocked.

Increasingly cautious, Rich pokes his head down the narrow hallway and calls a tentative, Hello?

Liam’s a botanical geneticist, an engineer, so he logs as many hours in the Genesis’ interior labs as he does planting and pruning the agriboat’s sprawling garden spaces. But the main lab’s empty, and so is the nursery grow-room, all three store-rooms, and the tiny washroom with Liam’s closet-sized little bunk behind it. The residential deck—mostly heaped masses of experimental cabin plants, with a few couches and bookshelves squeezed in among all the pots and crates—is similarly empty, and so is the dine-in galley. Is Liam really off-ship today? In which case it just figures that the one time Rich tries to be daring and spontaneous and drop in unannounced, Liam wouldn’t even be there. But his intern Alexis doesn’t seem to be around, either, and he wouldn’t leave the boat unmanned…

Rich is leaning on the galley counter, frowning thoughtfully and a little hungrily at a big basket of rosy pink pineapples, when he hears a muffled cry through an open window.

Rich goes tense, quiet, listening. There’s silence for another few seconds, just the sound of wind rustling through the leaves of the plants on the top deck, and then there’s a faint, sharp noise like a slap and the cry comes again.

There’s only one place Rich hasn’t looked yet, and it wouldn’t have been particularly visible on the flight in, either. He heads up the stairs to the top deck fast and quiet, heart throbbing in his throat, and the closer he gets the more he can hear: a low voice, hissing something sharp, and the sound of rough gasping, faint whimpers.

There’s a man in the grape arbor that Rich doesn’t recognize when he makes it to the top of the stairs; not a big guy, but a whole lot bigger than the small, familiar figure he’s got pinned to the arbor sex mattress. Big enough he’s got Liam’s slim legs pinned under one knee and he can hold the rest of Liam’s delicate little frame down with one hand—because there are ropes wrapped around him, Liam’s naked and his arms are tied behind his back and the guy smacks him roughly on the ass as Rich falters, frozen with shock and horror. The slap rings out through the flowers and vines, a harsh violent noise that doesn’t belong here, not in this sweet green space. Liam yelps in pain, twists in the ropes and gets slapped again and Rich can see tears glinting off his cheeks—

Get the fuck off him! Rich roars, wrenching himself out of his paralysis. He charges forward to haul the guy bodily off of Liam by one arm, then shakes him roughly as he tries to pull away, the ripsaw threat of Rich’s growl tearing up his throat and spilling out between bared teeth, loud as an engine with the force of his anger. Liam yelps again, in shock this time, and the guy blurts out a startled curse and struggles, but Rich doesn’t let go, teeth bared and heart pounding, throat aching, grabbing this intruder’s other arm and getting ready to snap some bones.

Rich! Liam says, high and loud and urgent, and rolls himself over to sit up as best he can with his hands tied behind his back. "Baby wait, hey, stop!"

Rich pulls himself up just short of really hurting the guy, confused and breathing hard, still growling loud and fierce as a chainsaw with his fury. The guy he’s holding up off the ground has gone limp and is looking meek and scared but not… like somebody caught doing something awful. Just someone who’s about ready to piss himself in the face of a sudden storm of berserk supersoldier genemod getting ready to do what he was designed for and tear someone’s fucking arms off. Rich stares at Liam’s face, and then slowly lowers his captive to the deck.

What…? Rich says, and swallows a few times, trying to swallow his growl down enough that his words don’t come out too saw-edged to understand. What the fuck’s going on, Liam? Who’s this asshole? How’d he get here?

"This is my friend Jordan, says Liam, loudly and carefully. He’s a very good friend of mine, and we were just playing a game with each other! As friends! Everything’s okay, Rich. You can let him go, he’s a friend, it’s okay."

Rich drops the guy, all his protective fury dissolving into a shame so hot his ears might burn off.

Oh, fuck, he says, and swallows the last stuttering shreds of his growl. He buries his flaming face in his hands. "Shit."

Yeah, uh, wow, says Jordan, shakily, and pats Rich’s arm. He's not a menacing looking guy, when Rich peeks miserably at him through his fingers: he’s actually really cute, short and stocky with a big, plush stomach and rounded chest and gold rings in his big dark nipples, which Rich gets hung up on before dragging his gaze up to the man’s soft, pretty face. Big dark concerned eyes, a lot of stylishly mussed up hair, generous lips around a worried frown.

He says, Was I supposed to know you were coming over today, big guy? Only you really snuck up on us!