Orgasmic by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Author:Rachel Kramer Bussel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2010-09-23T00:00:00+00:00

ALL SHE WANTED

Andrea Dale

When you’re pregnant, you worry about all sorts of things: Will the baby be born with extra toes? Will I crave pickles and chocolate ice cream—at the same time? What if we give it the wrong name and it hates us forever? Where the hell did those breasts come from?

The answers to those types of questions can be found in your average book for expectant parents, books that speak in soothing language to assuage your fears.

Such books don’t address certain other crucial questions, such as: By what month should one avoid rope bondage? Do nipple clamps adversely affect milk production? How will my raging hormones affect my ability to enter sub-space?

I joke about it, make light of it, as I do with anything that scares me. Avoidance, my husband Dan says when he catches me doing it. I should face my fears, according to him. Then he devises some sort of devious torture—sometimes just a spanking, sometimes much, much more—to teach me not to do it.

Of course, that never works. For one thing, everybody has his own way of dealing with fear. For another, I like being tied up and whipped and teased and tortured. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be in this relationship, where in the bedroom he calls all the shots.

When we found out I was pregnant, however, everything changed.

Don’t get me wrong—my first priority is the baby. I’m not going to do anything stupid. But sex doesn’t stop when you’re pregnant, and kinky sex doesn’t have to stop, either.

There’s no telling Dan that, though. I appreciate the depth of his caring, but I’m going a little crazy here.

The hormones rage through me like a tropical storm, and Dan understands that, so even when I make the jokes in the hopes of baiting him, he doesn’t follow through, not the way we’re used to.

I want to be caned until I’m dizzy with pain and desire, not gently spanked after I’ve been carefully arranged on special pillows. I want to be forced to wear that awful ball gag that makes me drool, that tastes faintly like rubber no matter how many times we wash it. I want some serious bondage and teasing and to be made to come over and over until I’m limp and sore and barely breathing.

And while we’re at it, I want an Oompa Loompa and I want it now!

See? There I go. If Dan hears me and tells me to watch it, and I mouth off with Whatcha gonna do, spank me?, then what is he going to do?

Not. Very. Much.

I suppose I shouldn’t complain. Even without the hard-core bondage and exquisite pain play, we haven’t gone completely vanilla. Dan’s a master at the head fuck, too, and sometimes threats and suggestions and tales spun about impossibly filthy scenes can be amazingly effective, especially when combined with blindfolds and delayed orgasms. (Not too delayed, though, just in case it causes my blood pressure to spike oh-point-two degrees.)

It was during one of those sessions that Dan ordered me to bring home a play partner for us.

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