[<— continued from Second Chances]
I crouched there on the bed, cuffed to the headboard, naked, for a good twenty minutes, thinking about things. How dare he! I couldn’t believe Paul would just walk away like that. I mean, I thought all men were supposed to be into this, right? I was so embarrassed, mortified really. I called him up after having dumped him, I invited him over, I stripped naked in front of him, I cuffed myself to the bed, I invited him to spank me, and… he walked away.
What was he going to tell other people? You know that Olivia chick I was dating? Yeah, real nutcase. Do you know she’s into spanking and handcuffs? My reputation could be ruined.
Or, on the other hand, maybe someone who did want to give it a try would be interested?
No. Bad plan. It was bound to attract the wrong types. So, I was back to square one. Once again, I had no boyfriend, I wasn’t getting any, and I had no idea what would turn me on. I was seriously half afraid I might be frigid, as they used to say, or somehow incapable of physically enjoying sex. Since mentally I was as horny as I could possibly imagine, the thought of being incapable of getting anything out of it was a truly frightening prospect. There had to be an answer.
Well, I didn’t know that this cuffs and spanking stuff wouldn’t work. I mean, just because Paul didn’t like it didn’t mean anything. After all, he barely tapped me, he pretty much did everything he could to make me feel like I was some sort of weirdo, so how could I expect to be aroused by that? I had read that some girls were indeed aroused by humiliation, but this was rather humiliating, and nope, no arousal. That was definitely not my thing.
But the jury was still out on the cuffs and spanking. I just needed a different partner. Someone who would actually enjoy it. Someone who knew how to do it. Someone with whom, if it didn’t work, I would know for sure it was because it didn’t work for me.
In short, I needed an expert.
But where the hell was I going to find an expert, and moreover, make him want to tie me up and spank me? Yes, the local alternative weekly’s personals section was full of men — and women — who professed to be more than happy to provide just such a service, but I was admittedly nervous about answering an ad in the paper and letting a complete stranger have this kind of power over me when I was tied down.
Speaking of which, I was still in these stupid cuffs, and this was soon going to become something of a problem. I cursed Paul again, for not at least having the decency to unlock my cuffs before he left. What an idiot! Of course, if he were to come back through the door right now, I’d be grateful, as I was rather stuck, but that wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t have his own key — we’d only been dating about six weeks before the dinner dumping — and in truth I didn’t want to see him again. Ever. I was really mad at him.
The fact remained, however, that I had a problem. I could just see it now, a blurb in tomorrow’s paper, about how a naked woman, cuffed to her own bed, had to be rescued by police or firefighters or whatever. Not that I’d mind a big hunky firefighter right about now. No, I was going to have to figure out a way to get myself out of this mess.
I pulled over to the side of the bed as far as the cuffs would allow, but the nightstand remained out of reach. I stretched out my leg, trying to hook my toes in the little drawer handle. I was able to get the drawer pulled out a couple inches, and I had a frightening vision of accidentally pulling it all the way out and it crashing to the floor, spilling the contents, key and all, under the bed, forever out of reach. Fortunately, that didn’t happen. Still, it was one thing to pull the drawer out with a toe, it was going to be another to lift a small key out of it.
Had there been anyone there to see, I’m sure I would have made quite a ridiculous sight, contorted as I was trying to do some Teatro ZinZanni move to pick up that key. After several attempts, achieving little more than pushing the key around a bit, among the tissues, cough drops, lip balm, coins, and condoms sharing that drawer, I finally got it snagged between two toes. Squeezing them together, I lifted it out, and I swear I got a cramp in my calf. Whoever thought that pressing toes together could cause such muscular strain? I gritted my teeth, my calf muscle spasmed, and the key dropped to the floor.
Oh, shit. I sighed, shook my leg out to work out the cramp, and moved my foot down to the floor. Thank God the key didn’t go under the bed or bounce farther away. Several more tries, and again I snagged it, and this time I got it up onto the bed itself before it dropped. No matter, now I could use my body, my knee, my belly, whatever, to work it up closer to the headboard.
Finally, I was able to get it between my teeth, and that is how I unlocked the first cuff, nearly an hour after Paul left. Next time, if there was a next time, I was stashing that thing in the headboard somewhere.
[Continue on to Ashley and Melody –>]
© Lace Winter and lacewinter.com, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lace Winter and lacewinter.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.