In the early spring I received a message from David P Perlmutter, author of the true crime biography novel Wrong Place Wrong Time and creator of the My Way anthologies that give a chance of different authors from various genres to showcase their work. He was interested in erotica writers for his latest compilation. As a coincidence, I was working hard on editing my debut novel Unorthodox Therapy. It was a huge pleasure for me to say yes and join the other participants in that highly erotic compilation. It is already live and available on Amazon.
The rest of the weekend was spent entirely on research. My new ‘Master’ suggested I learned more about the lifestyle. He also sent me an excruciatingly long list of different fetishes and kink practices. When I opened the file on Sunday morning, I groaned and nearly gave up on the whole affair. It was fifteen pages, extensive and specific, covering every deviancy I’d ever heard of and so much more. There were things on there that I would never have even thought of to list as hard limits. At one point, I thought nothing could shock me more than ‘bondage with a tongue piercing attached to a nail on a tree’. After flipping the page, I nearly choked on the mineral water I’d been sipping. The next section was entitled Impact Play and some of its content completely destroyed my erotic mood. Knife play made my pulse quicken with worry, but when my gaze slid to electricity, cold sweat drenched my spine. Nausea rose all the way up my throat and I minimized the file so I wouldn’t vomit in my mouth. It was just… too much.
Luckily, Thomas answered on the first dial. The little bastard must have had the time of his life listening to the horror in my shaking voice.
“Please, tell me you don’t have any fantasies about cutting pieces of my flesh or electrocuting me.” I sounded shrill and panicky but that was how I felt. The items on the list had conjured up some very disturbing images of torn limbs, burnt smelling flesh, and permanent scars.
“Someone is fast at doing her homework.” He chuckled.
“Thomas, please! I don’t want to go through any actual torture or suffer permanent injuries. This shit is fucking scary.” Now I was openly screaming, unable to stop myself, on the verge of hysteria.
“Lina, please, calm down.” Thomas’s voice switched to a caring, concerned tone. It was stupid to be so terrified by mere words on a screen, but even the slight possibility he could turn out to be a cunning, violent sociopath made me flip my shit. “Sit down, rest your back on the chair and breathe, okay? One deep inhale and a slow exhale. Let the air out very slowly. Breathe.” Any other time I’d have been unhappy to be treated with such motherly concern, but his little trick had the necessary effect on me. As soon as I breathed out, some calmness filled my body as if the fear had leaked out. “Better?”
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