Two of a Kind (Desire Island 2)

Kendra came up silently to stand beside Dylan. He turned to her with a smile. “Jenna’s meditating,” he said in a whisper. “Bondage is her natural high. She was at my bondage safety class this morning.”

“It’s beautiful,” Kendra breathed, awestruck. Her skin tingled with the need to feel those soft, strong ropes binding and cocooning her in their knotted embrace. “I’m jealous.”

Dylan grinned at her. “Greedy girl,” he murmured softly in her ear. He kissed the top of her head, adding, “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

He turned his attention back to the bound woman. “I hate to pull her out of her subspace, but she’s been in the ropes long enough.” He went to the girl and stroked her face, saying gently, “Jenna. Jenna, it’s time to come back. I need to get you down.”

After a moment, Jenna slowly opened her eyes, her gaze unfocused, a blissful smile still playing on her face. “Oh. Hi,” she said vaguely. She swayed a little in her bonds.

“Hi,” Dylan said, grinning at her. “Welcome back to earth.”

He worked quickly, untying the pretty, complicated knots with practiced ease. Kendra stayed nearby, helping as needed to release Jenna safely. Once she was back on her feet, Jenna fixed Dylan with an adoring gaze. “Can we do it again, please?”

Dylan laughed. “Not tonight. You’ve had enough now.”

“But I’m leaving tomorrow,” Jenna pleaded, a whine in her voice.

“You’ll just have to come back and visit us again soon,” Dylan said, patting her on the shoulder.

Just then, a broad, stocky man with a military buzz cut came up beside them. “There you are, Jenna,” he said with what sounded to Kendra like a German accent. He had a large black flogger in his hand. “Did you forget you promised me a scene? Auf gehts!”

As the two of them wandered off, Dylan turned to Kendra. “I’d like to take you back to the bondage playroom. We can have our own private Shibari session, if you’d like. I reserved the room just for us.”

“I’d love that,” Kendra agreed readily.

After cleaning and putting away the ropes, they walked together to the double doors at the back of the dungeon in what was once the locker room when the resort was just a vanilla vacation spot. The huge, tiled water playroom was flanked by two hallways, each of which contained what had once been racquetball courts. These had been converted into fetish playrooms, including a medical exam room, a hot wax room, a bondage room and several others. The rooms could be reserved in half hour increments in the evenings for private play.

The bondage room was equipped with a restraint rack, a St. Andrew’s cross and a sturdy black leather sling swing complete with stirrups and adjustable straps. Several large bondage hooks were embedded in the ceiling. A side counter with cabinets beneath it stood against one wall, a recovery couch nearby.

The first thing Dylan did when they entered the room was to take Kendra in his arms and give her a long, delicious kiss. As he claimed her mouth, he cradled the back of her head in one hand, nestling his fingers in her hair and gripping it tightly. Just that dominant touch was enough to melt her bones into jelly.

When he let her go, he took a step back and gave a low, admiring whistle. “You look fabulous in lace,” he said approvingly. “But I don’t want to tear that delicate fabric. Strip for me and wait in a standing at-attention pose, hands behind your head.”

While theirs was not a Master/slave relationship, Kendra still got an erotic, submissive thrill every time he gave her a command. Now, she obediently stepped out of her shoes and shucked off the lacy garment. Just the act of placing her hands behind her head and offering her body in this way sent her instantly into submissive headspace. She could actually feel her pulse slow, her breath deepen, her mind empty and calm itself as she watched Dylan pull a selection of Shibari rope from the cabinet.

Leaving the ropes on the counter for the moment, he returned to Kendra, kissing her once more as she remained in position, hands behind her head. She nearly dropped her arms, the desire to hug Dylan close nearly overriding his command.

When he pulled back, she instinctively leaned forward, lips still parted, hungry for more kisses.

With a small shake of his head, he chuckled. “Time for the sweet stuff later. I have something else in mind at the moment.”

Leading her to the swing, he hoisted her up. “Grip the hand straps and slide your feet into the stirrups,” he directed.

She obeyed, bending her knees and spreading her legs wide to get her feet into position. She loved the swing, and adding rope to the equation definitely promised to enhance the experience.