Welcome all you wonderful wanton people, ready for some more decadent delights from the dungeon?

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]http://rtkdungeoncrawl.com/2014/05/29/crawl-for-june-4

Today I am posting an excerpt from a WIP entitled

THREE DARK HOURS

This book will be released as part of a five book anthology in August.

SET UP

Normally I don’t do a prelude, but this might be a tad confusing if I don’t.  Brandy has been given a writing assignment, and feels compelled to express her hidden yearnings, the yearnings she surrenders to in the dark of night, when she sinks into her fantasy.

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There are lost hours in her life, hours that are filled with clear visions of dark, erotic encounters. In the early hours of the morning, void of sleep, the inky stillness surrounds her and her decadent demons come out to play. At such times she closes her eyes and watches him wander towards her; the warm, sultry smile on his face unable to hide the intensity burning in his eyes. He holds his blindfold in one hand, a pair of cuffs in the other.

“This will take three hours,” he purrs as he sits next to her, “give or take a minute or two.”

“How do you know?” she squeaks.

“Starting now, that’s how long it will take me to devour you, to mark your skin, to listen to all your lovely utterances of pain and pleasure, then, sweet girl, deliver you to the pinnacle so you can fly through subspace.”

“Three hours? That sounds like a long time,” she quivers. “How can I-?”

“Enough,” he interrupts placing a finger across her lips. “From this moment the only sounds I want to hear are your moans and gasps, unless you are so overcome you feel the need to use your caution word. Tell me again, what is it?”

“Orange,” she whispers feeling the over-sized butterflies perform a polka.

“Correct,” he smiles. “If you speak I will spank you. Yes, I’m going to spank you anyway, but if you disobey me, whether you mean to or not, I will land my hand upon your bottom with a series of stinging smacks. Do you understand?”

Swallowing hard she nods her head; her eyes are wide, her pulse is racing, and she can’t think, not about anything except the threat of his words.

“Good, now close your eyes.”

The simple instruction is enough to make the butterflies begin a wild dance, and as the soft foam in the blindfold sends her into darkness his words echo through her brain.

Three hours. It’s so long, I’ll be living through three dark hours.

“I adore the corset you’ve chosen,” he croons as he places the shackles around her wrists. “Red is a very sensual color. A tad obvious perhaps, but for tonight it is quite perfect.”

She holds her breath as the cuffs are buckled, then she feels a two-sided snap lock her wrists together; the fit is secure but not so tight as to be uncomfortable.

“Stand up. I’m going to guide you forward.”

As he moves her across the room, the room her fantasy has created for her, a room that reeks of who he is, the vision consumes her, and the bedroom in which she lays no longer exists.

“Lean forward and feel the bench.”

His arm is across her stomach supporting her, and when her hands touch the cool spongy vinyl she opens her fingers, allowing her palms to take her weight.

“Good, now I’m going to warm your bottom,” he declares, his voice no longer soft or tender, but firm and resolute.

Gritting her teeth she waits for the first slap, and when it lands with an unexpected softness she realizes she’s been holding her breath. Exhaling, allowing the nervous tension to evaporate, she moans quietly as his hand fondles. She wiggles, an involuntary movement brought about by her apprehension, and he accepts the unintended invitation, slapping his palm smartly, staining her pale skin with his print.

Now the gritting of her teeth becomes her silent defense against his spanking hand and her need to cry out. As his palm continues its unceasing assault, she longs to beg him to pause, if only for a moment, but his edict had been clear; she was not to speak unless it was to call out her caution word.

When he stops it’s almost a shock, and as his gentle caress fondles away the sting, his fingers slip between her legs. They tickle and tease, torment and explore, and she feels her body’s warm moist response to his fervent treatment.

Dropping her head in her hands Brandy sighed; it was all so real. In her bed she would lose herself in the images, her fingers urgently sending her forward to her moment. Typing out the words, seeing the vision with her eyes open was an utterly different experience.

God, I want this so badly. How will Patrick react when he reads this? If he ignores it, if he doesn’t take my words as an invitation so be it, at least I will have tried.

Lifting her arms above her head she stretched, then closed her eyes to listen to the constant pattering of the showers.

Surely this man must be somewhere in the world. The man who can offer me such salacious pleasure. The man who wrote that chapter exists! How difficult it must be, seeing this woman all the time but unable to act on it, especially when he’s sure she feels the same…do they know they are alike? How do you know that? How do I know that Patrick is like that? Maybe he’s not, maybe it’s just all wishful thinking.

Feeling the call of the computer she opened her eyes, and summoning her vision, she sent her fingers to work.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll find time to visit the marvelous authors who are participating in this crawl.

https://www.amazon.com/author/maggiecarpenter

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