31 Flavors of Kink Read Online Free Page A

soul, panics. It turns me on, yes, but I can’t stop that tiny thirteen-year-old voice whimpering, what if he does hurt me? What if he betrays me? Nick, the one stable influence in my life. My rock. My one and only love. If I test his trustworthiness and he fails, I think it would kill me.
    * * * *
    It’s been two days since I sent Nick the article about being a Dom. I try not to nag him to read it. I try not to push for his thoughts. But really, the man can challenge a monk in terms of conversation. Finally the agony of waiting wears me down, and I text him that night, lying in lamp-lit darkness.
    Have you read the article?
    His response is immediate. The idea that he’s lying in bed too, texting me back, makes me smile.
    Yes.
    I roll my eyes. Not going to make this easy, is he? I text him again.
    Thoughts?
    Only a minute later, he responds. Basically you want me to take control?
    Now he’s getting it. But I should clarify.
    In the bedroom, yes.
    His text comes faster this time. I can do that.
    My heart leaps, and I grin like an idiot. Another text comes through.
    But I’m gonna make you regret saying that.
    My stomach drops. This sounds nothing like my Nick. His next text is a winking emoticon. I giggle. I must encourage this new version of him. I text him back.
    Can’t wait , with a wink.
    This is good sign, I decide. And I fall asleep with thoughts of Nick and his wicked promises.
    * * * *
    I decide a surprise is in order for when Nick comes home tomorrow. There are two adult stores within driving distance. The closest is a brick building with no windows in a shoddy part of town and a sign that says ADULT STORE. I grimace when I drive by. I feel like I could get an STD just by stepping through the door.
    The other option is forty minutes away but well worth the drive. Huge, classy, and welcoming with its window display of mannequins dressed in tasteful lingerie. I take a deep breath before entering and pray I don’t run into anyone I know. How awkward would it be to bump into my third-grade teacher in here? Or even worse, the pastor of the church in which I grew up. I chuckle at my inappropriate thoughts and walk through the doors.
    Immediately I’m inundated with sex. But I guess that’s the point. In front of me, more mannequins sport revealing costumes and night wear. Less classy than the window display, I notice. Something called “Bondage Wear” catches my eye. Black strips of what looks like utility tape run up, down, and around the mannequin’s body like a child’s art project—only they cover certain bits while leaving others wide open. Seems like the opposite bits to me. What’s the point of wearing lingerie that binds the belly and thighs but doesn’t cover the breasts and…other parts? Even if I could figure out how to arrange the damn thing on my body, I’m not sure Nick would have the patience to resist tearing it off. And paying—I look at the price tag—holy shit! Ninety dollars for some strategically placed duct tape is bound to send me to bargain shopper hell. So as intriguing as it sounds, there will be no bondage wear for me.
    On the right, shelves are lined with gag gifts, novelty items for bachelorette parties, and things like that. On my left are rows and rows of—my God, I don’t even know. I squint my eyes and look closer. All sorts of packaged toys. Dildos, looks like. And anal plugs. And vibrators. That’s what I’m here for. My group tells me a bullet vibrator will change my life. I’m also in the market for rope.
    My gaze wanders the large store, taking in everything I see—some I understand, most I don’t. In the far back, there’s an intriguing little nook with a sign above that reads S&M.
    I duck into the vibrator aisle before my curiosity gets the better of me and forces my feet to wander into that nook. Vibrators are safe. Vibrators are “normal.” God, if anyone saw me in the S&M section, I think I might die of embarrassment.
    My attention returns to my task.