Free A Dirty Little Deal by Theda Hudson Page A

appropriate to her situation, and it covered her shouts, which were also a graduation from the little muffled whimpers she had hitherto thought were outrageous.
    Ever the good boyfriend, Luiz helped me sweep the floor and load the dishwasher afterward. He even bought me a new navy-blue serving dish and a beautiful white platter to replace the ones we swept up.
    And Cara Mia has gone past Violet Thumper, the purple bunny fur paddle Mr. Twist introduced her to that night in the parking garage. Gawd, she loves that thing—even the leather side sometimes—but now I think she adores the brilliant blue deer hide flogger that Mr. Twist bought on eBay.
    He learned to wield it at the alternative lifestyle club during one of the many classes they had taken to learn how to navigate this new land safely and enjoyably.
    The falls—that’s what you call the leather strips—feel like velvet. Mr. Twist runs them across Cara Mia’s back when he bends her over the footboard of her bed. Then he lays the handle over her back so they dangle between her breasts when he—how delicious it is to say this—mounts her. When he slips his…his dick—there, I said it—into her.
    The leather tickles so as it brushes her breasts, and it makes her wiggle in ways that Mr. Twist enjoys very much. Then Cara Mia enjoys things even more.
    Who knew breaking out of all my ideas about “This is How Things Must Be” would be so much fun? Except that it is Cara Mia who is breaking the rules. I have broken nothing—except, somehow I feel cracked.
    Which is the whole point of this Halloween party. It is time to go further, to stretch the boundaries until they snap again and Cara Mia has entered a new land, another level of pleasure.
    That night in the elevator on the way down to what Cara Mia would learn was the grotty dungeon at Darker Wings, a man propositioned Mr. Twist for the use of Cara Mia as a bondage sub.
    I was terrified that he would give her to him, still in the dark about what the evening would entail, but the thing that struck me was the man’s comment that she had a beautiful bone structure that was perfect for bondage.
    The idea stayed with me and, since then, my secret library of naughtiness has grown to include several books about bondage and the pleasures to be found therein.
    One of the pleasures of bondage is evidently the Zen-like state that the tie-ee enjoys as the bonds are wrapped around her body. I have read about this subspace state in several of the manuals on the alternative lifestyle that Darker Wings exemplifies and educates its members in so they can be more successful, more naughty, and more skilled explorers of the world of sexual pleasure.
    Cara Mia has yet to go there.
    I admit that Mr. Twist has kindled a curiosity that I never expected to enjoy. For Cara Mia’s pioneering forays into this dark and naughty world, I ordered her several lengths of recommended rope in appealing colors and stashed them a bag.
    She has run them over her arms and legs, coiling them about her body to imagine what the draw is. The tactile pleasures to be had are subtle and lovely. I think that they could induce Cara Mia to succumb to this subspace.
    But first she must get to the party. The dress she is wearing tonight is a little ragged Goth/witchy number, along with some funky black pointy-toed construction boots that I found at the Ashes to Fashion store. It’s the same place Mr. Twist bought the pencil dress he sacrificed to force Cara Mia to strike a blow at my rules about “What is Fun and Why Sexy is Inappropriate for Me.” And appropriate for her, most anywhere.
    I remain a paragon of good manners, elegance, and conservatism.
    This Halloween dress is made possible only by the black domino that lives in a satin-lined box in my antique vanity. I open the top drawer and slip it out. I found the box discarded by the trash at my complex after Cara Mia’s adventure in the parking garage, and picked it up. The flat wooden box was old and a