The Big Book of Bondage: Sexy Tales of Erotic Restraint
Surrender to your fantasies. Every submissive willingly does: bound and helpless, expecting the ecstasy of her master's lash. Never mind the leather—clothed or naked, she is stripped down to only the most basic physical and emotional need, completely exposed. But it’s this swirl of sensations and feelings that combine in a perfect storm of kink and makes the seemingly impossible not only occur, but happen in a way that creates a sexy good time for everyone involved. The sensual stories that Alison Tyler has assembled in this collection delve into the dynamics of relationships filled with such unrestrained passion, revealing a world of beautiful contradictions that will thrill and inspire you. Some of these tales show how the everyday can be instantly transformed into pulse-quickening moments laced with eroticism. Nobody likes bondage more than Alison Tyler who is endlessly fascinated with the sensation of giving up, giving in, of putting one’s pleasure (and pain) into the hands of another. To her, bondage means “I trust you to keep me safe,” and yet BDSM can also mean, “I trust you to hurt me.” Because the most important part of bondage, of dominance, of all the slippery ways one can play with those concepts is trust.In the BDSM realm, trust involves crops, whips, blindfolds, handcuffs, paddles, belts, gags, and toys. How deliciously, devilishly twisted is that?
"1111526265"
The Big Book of Bondage: Sexy Tales of Erotic Restraint
Surrender to your fantasies. Every submissive willingly does: bound and helpless, expecting the ecstasy of her master's lash. Never mind the leather—clothed or naked, she is stripped down to only the most basic physical and emotional need, completely exposed. But it’s this swirl of sensations and feelings that combine in a perfect storm of kink and makes the seemingly impossible not only occur, but happen in a way that creates a sexy good time for everyone involved. The sensual stories that Alison Tyler has assembled in this collection delve into the dynamics of relationships filled with such unrestrained passion, revealing a world of beautiful contradictions that will thrill and inspire you. Some of these tales show how the everyday can be instantly transformed into pulse-quickening moments laced with eroticism. Nobody likes bondage more than Alison Tyler who is endlessly fascinated with the sensation of giving up, giving in, of putting one’s pleasure (and pain) into the hands of another. To her, bondage means “I trust you to keep me safe,” and yet BDSM can also mean, “I trust you to hurt me.” Because the most important part of bondage, of dominance, of all the slippery ways one can play with those concepts is trust.In the BDSM realm, trust involves crops, whips, blindfolds, handcuffs, paddles, belts, gags, and toys. How deliciously, devilishly twisted is that?
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The Big Book of Bondage: Sexy Tales of Erotic Restraint

The Big Book of Bondage: Sexy Tales of Erotic Restraint

The Big Book of Bondage: Sexy Tales of Erotic Restraint

The Big Book of Bondage: Sexy Tales of Erotic Restraint

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Overview

Surrender to your fantasies. Every submissive willingly does: bound and helpless, expecting the ecstasy of her master's lash. Never mind the leather—clothed or naked, she is stripped down to only the most basic physical and emotional need, completely exposed. But it’s this swirl of sensations and feelings that combine in a perfect storm of kink and makes the seemingly impossible not only occur, but happen in a way that creates a sexy good time for everyone involved. The sensual stories that Alison Tyler has assembled in this collection delve into the dynamics of relationships filled with such unrestrained passion, revealing a world of beautiful contradictions that will thrill and inspire you. Some of these tales show how the everyday can be instantly transformed into pulse-quickening moments laced with eroticism. Nobody likes bondage more than Alison Tyler who is endlessly fascinated with the sensation of giving up, giving in, of putting one’s pleasure (and pain) into the hands of another. To her, bondage means “I trust you to keep me safe,” and yet BDSM can also mean, “I trust you to hurt me.” Because the most important part of bondage, of dominance, of all the slippery ways one can play with those concepts is trust.In the BDSM realm, trust involves crops, whips, blindfolds, handcuffs, paddles, belts, gags, and toys. How deliciously, devilishly twisted is that?

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781573449175
Publisher: Start Publishing Llc
Publication date: 12/24/2012
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 332
File size: 382 KB

About the Author

Alison Tyler is the author of more than 20 erotic novels, including Strictly Confidential and Sweet Thing, and she is the editor of Three-Way, Heat Wave, Best Bondage Erotica, and The Merry XXXmas Book of Erotica. She lives in San Francisco. Best Bondage Erotica "The only thing better than curling up with an Alison Tyler work of erotica might be curling up with Alison Tyler herself." Playboy Magazine "Alison Tyler's words evoke a world of heady sensuality where fantasies are fearlessly explored and dreams gloriously realized." Penthouse Variations "Sensually, sexually, and erotically charged, Alison Tyler's words satisfy every woman's fantasy." Playgirl
Alison Tyler is a prolific author of erotic fiction and is the editor of Three-Way, Heat Wave, Best Bondage Erotica, Love at First Sting, and Naughty or Nice. Called a "literary siren" by Good Vibrations, she is the author of over 25 explicit novels. Her books have been translated into Japanese, Dutch, German, Italian, Norwegian, Greek, and Spanish. She lives in San Francisco.

Read an Excerpt

The Big Book of Bondage

Sexy Tales of Erotic Restraint
By Alison Tyler

Cleis Press

Copyright © 2013 Alison Tyler
All right reserved.

ISBN: 9781573449076

On the Rocks
By Heidi Champa

It was so damn hot. The air conditioning really picked a hell of a night to conk out. The usually chilly airflow stopped completely right before the pub was supposed to open. Noah called the repair guy, but he couldn’t come out to take a look until the day after tomorrow. We were stuck with the heat and soon our customers would be stuck to the vinyl barstools and chairs. We threw open all the windows, but there was hardly any breeze blowing that night. The air was so damned thick, I could almost feel the moisture as it settled on my skin. The only thing we had to keep us remotely cool was an old fan we found in the storeroom. It moved slowly from side to side and managed to circulate the stale air just a bit. Noah and I stood in front of the squeaky old thing, gently swaying to stay in the fan’s path. However, soon it became clear that moving around was negating the limited effects of the fan.
Margarita Wednesdays were always a popular night, but since the heat wave hit the city, the pub was slammed. It seemed the entire town was sweating, and the only cure for their condition was a frozen drink. The blender was constantly whirring and the two of us never stopped moving behind the bar. The ice machine was on overdrive but it couldn’t keep up and melting liquid drained in a steady stream, making the floor wet. Everywhere I looked, people were holding their drinks up to their foreheads, trying to cool off any way they could.
Between making the tropical drinks and the sweat soaking through my tank top, I was feeling sticky and salty. Every now and then, when no one was looking, I dropped an ice cube down my shirt, letting the freezing cube melt between my breasts and run down into my denim shorts. I noticed Noah staring a few times, taking in my cool down technique, momentarily oblivious to the throng around us. Each time the cube heated up and disappeared into water, I let out a satisfied sigh, but all too soon, the relief was replaced by a fresh sheen of sweat on my skin. Noah made the best of a bad situation as well, scoring extra tips every time he raised his shirt and exposed his chest to get some fresh air. The show wasn’t lost on me either, my stomach tightening every time I saw his bare skin. Each time we brushed against each other behind the bar, he’d lay a hand on my waist or my shoulder and make me quiver inside. He knew what he was doing to me and the bastard enjoyed every second of it. Talk about a heat wave.
“Alright, everyone. Last call.”
The words I had longed to hear all night rang out of Noah’s mouth, the predictable groan that followed music to my ears. I started to pick up the glasses strewn all over the pub, pools of sticky liquid dotting the length of the bar. The last remaining stragglers were forced out into the retched heat of the night, and just the two of us were left behind. We started our nightly routine, each one of us working in slow motion trying to stay as cool as possible, until the bar was as relatively clean as it was when the night began. Noah piled the glasses in the kitchen for the day crew to deal with, the thought of all that hot dishwater made my stomach turn. I grabbed the mop and bucket to clean up the spills that had made their way to the floor.
On my way by, I pulled open the lid of the ice machine, the arctic blast hitting me right in the face. It felt like heaven. Noah moved beside me, letting the cool fog work its magic on him, too. He reached into the vat and extracted a pair of perfectly formed cubes. He held one out to me, the heat making it drip as soon as it hit the air. I thought for a moment of doing the proper thing and grabbing it, but instead, I let my mouth fall open waiting for him to place the cube of lovely coolness on my tongue. He obliged me, only hesitating for a moment, which allowed a few stray drops to cascade down my chest. Even surrounded by so much heat, it made me shiver as I sucked on the ice, tasting the saltiness of his fingers until he pulled them away. The flavor of his skin sent a rush of blood to my cunt, the heat between my legs ten times hotter than the rest of me.
I let my eyes fall closed for a moment so I could enjoy the rush of cool that headed down my throat, but Noah surprised me back to reality, with another flash of freezing on my skin. My eyes shot open, and there was Noah, running a rapidly diminishing cube over the skin exposed by my tank top’s neckline. I found my voice a moment too late, only after a satisfied gasp first passed my lips.
“Noah, what are you doing?”
“Helping you cool off. Doesn’t it feel good?”
“Yes. It does, actually. But--”
“But nothing.”
He smiled and I clenched my fists to keep myself from touching him. He leaned in and spoke right into my ear.
“I have to say, it looks good too, Tara.”
As the last few pieces of his ice cube dripped down my skin, I actually felt goose bumps rising, despite the heat all around us. His wet fingers lingered over my chest, his skin burning against mine. I pulled back, trying to regain some sense. I wanted him. Plain and simple. But, I knew I shouldn’t. We shouldn’t.
“I have to get back to work, Noah.”
He stood in front of me, blocking my path, his eyes burning into mine. I feared the whole building would go up in flames from all the heat. Both outside and inside.
“You don’t have to just yet, Tara.”
I could barely breathe, but I swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the desire bubbling over.
“Yes, I do.”
He still didn’t move, at least not as first. He finally relented and let me past. I pushed the bucket around the bar and tried to focus on the task at hand. I was sweating again in no time, even the simple act of swirling the mop around in front of me making me perspire as if I was running a marathon. Noah moved slowly towards me, but I tried to ignore the look in his eye and the suggestive roll of his hips. He walked over the freshly cleaned floor, took the mop right out of my hand and pushed it aside. It hit the floor with a thud and the silence stretched out between us. He kept moving closer until I was backed up against the pillar that punctuated the center of the room. Beads of sweat ran down my spine and when he smoothed a finger over my cheek, my pussy clenched.
“Noah, please don’t.”
“You don’t really mean that, do you Tara? You really don’t want me?”
I sighed as he leaned against me, his lips on mine before I could even answer him. My arms wrapped around him, his shirt clammy with sweat. As his tongue probed my mouth, I felt my knees go a bit weak. I wanted to keep kissing him, but the heat between us was starting to overwhelm me. I took all my strength to push him away, but he didn’t go far.
“Noah, I can’t breathe.”
I was nearly panting; the humid air leaving my lungs wanting more. Noah pressed his pelvis into my belly and I moaned out loud.
“You need to cool down, Tara. And, I think I can help.”
I pressed my hands to his shoulders, trying to get a little more space and a little more air. He was still too close, but he wouldn’t budge another inch.
“You’re just making it worse, Noah.”
I watched with hazy eyes as he undid the small black apron where he kept his tips, the long black strings hanging limply in his hands.
“Trust me, I can help. I know what I’m doing.”
I went limp against the pole as he was back in my personal space. I let him pull my arms around to the other side, his strong hands digging divots into my flesh. The full weight of his body was against me as I felt the damp fabric slide snuggly around my wrists, growing tighter with each wrap of the strings. My chest was thrust forward, the thin fabric of my tank top stuck to my moist skin. I fought against the bonds, but the cutting pain of the straps made me stop. Noah placed a hot palm over my heart, his thumb lazily tracing my nipple until it peaked. His tongue ran up my neck to my ear, his teeth capturing my lobe. The voice that dripped into my ear was hotter than anything I’d felt so far that night.
“Now, how about we cool you down Tara?”
His hands went to the hem of my tank top and yanked it up and over my tits, leaving me exposed, the cotton still clinging to my sweaty skin. My body tensed as he eyes swept over me, the heat between my legs growing unbearable. Noah walked away and headed behind the bar. I could hear the sound of plastic crushing against ice and I licked my lips involuntarily, my dry throat desperate for another cool cube. He approached me with a pitcher of ice in each hand. I could see the water dripping onto the floor from his muscled forearms and I would have given anything in that moment to lick them clean. He set one of the pitchers onto a nearby table and approached me slowly. Our eyes met as he pressed the wet plastic against my stomach. I gasped, the cold both amazing and awful.
“Noah, Jesus, that’s cold.”
“That’s the whole point, Tara.”
He tipped the pitcher and let the ice-cold liquid run out over my skin. I cried out as the moisture seeped into my jean shorts and panties, dripping down to my most sensitive skin. I squirmed, but there was nowhere for me to go. He moved the vessel higher and let a steady stream pass over each of my breasts until my nipples peaked with cold and desire. My mouth opened to protest, but Noah kissed me instead, the heat of his mouth a momentary respite from the cold. For the first time all night, I wasn’t under the spell of the heat but it was a new kind of torture.
“There now isn’t that better, Tara?”
I nodded as I watched him extract an ice cube from the pitcher and wield it between his thick fingers. He started at my parted lips, pressing the smooth surface over my parched mouth. I licked at the ice, but he continued on, tracing down my neck. Shuddering as he neared my nipple, I could feel the slippery cold almost before it arrived, my voice echoing off the walls as the ice melted to water against my hot skin as he circled my nipple, making it impossibly hard. He grabbed another cube, then another, each one disappearing quickly as he teased and tortured my body with the exquisite cold.
His fingers were still cool as they slid down my stomach, flicking open my button-fly with staggering ease.
“Noah, please.”
“Please, what Tara?”
I once again struggled with my bonds, but it only elicited a laugh from him. His hand dipped into my panties, the chill of his skin sending shivers through me.
“Oh, would you look at that Tara. I think I found a place on you that’s still way too hot. What are we going to do about that?”
I bit my lip as his fingers dipped back into the pitcher of ice and retrieved a cube. I was shaking my head no, but my voice was no longer working. He kissed me hard and as I writhed against him, the ice slid between the lips of my pussy. My mouth was freed just in time to cry out in a jumbled mix of agony and joy.
“Oh, fuck! Oh, God Noah.”
The ice danced over my clit, melting quickly in the heat and creating a slick path for Noah’s fingers to follow. He pushed a little bit further, until he was moving it inside me, the cold heel of his palm strafing against my clit. I gasped as he took a drink from the pitcher, letting some ice flow into his mouth. He kissed a cube into my mouth, before dropping his head to my nipple. As the cube shrank down to nothing, his rapidly warming mouth was a welcome respite from the frigid ice.
He dropped to his knees in front of me, setting the pitcher gently on the floor. My shorts and panties were soon next to it, my legs pushed apart by his insistent hands. I couldn’t stop watching him, especially when he again filled his mouth with ice before moving his lips ever closer to my cunt lips. The shock of bitter cold made my eyes finally close, as his tongue turned from frosty to furious as he devoured me. He sucked my clit as he slid a finger inside me. I was eager to touch him, but all I could do was lace my fingers together in their prison. I tried to move my hips, to urge him on, but he lapped at me slowly, intensely, until once again I was sweating from the heat.
When he stood, I was ready to beg, which was no doubt his aim all along. He pressed his warm, damp forehead against mine and I breathed out the only words I could think of in that moment.
“Fuck me, Noah. Please.”
He smiled, planting a kiss on my lips before shucking off his shorts and sliding on the condom. Grabbing my leg, he held it at his waist, opening me up. He entered me in one, smooth stroke, my still-hard nipples strafing against his chest.
“Jesus, Tara. You are so fucking hot.”
I was hot. Every part of my body, event the parts touched by such freezing ice, were scorching hot, as I took him, his cock buried deep inside me. There was no teasingly slow build up, just a good, hard fuck. Which was exactly what I needed. My eyes fell shut; the only sounds in the pub were our soft grunts and the constant hum of the ice machine replenishing its stock. I heard him digging in the pitcher on the table, extracting a few more perfect cubes as he fucked me slow and deep. He seemed to enjoy it so much; swiping the ice over my burning skin and watching me react. After each flash of biting cold, his hot mouth followed, warming my skin back up again. The cubes melted quickly, but each was quickly replaced by another, the warring temperatures overloading my already overheated mind.
When he reached down with cool fingers and toyed with my clit, my body could take no more. I was over the edge, his mouth swallowing my guttural cries as I came under his relentless fingers and his thrusting cock. I was nearly spent when he came, his fingers digging into my leg, the heat from his straining body making me heat up all over again. But, this time, I didn’t mind the warmth as we both stood panting, trying to catch our breath in the sweatbox the pub had become. He untied me quickly and my arms went around him, touching him for the first time. He ran ice over the red marks the apron made on my wrist, soothing my distressed skin. I looked into his eyes, so tender in that moment. We kissed until neither of us could breathe and had to pull


Continues...

Excerpted from The Big Book of Bondage by Alison Tyler Copyright © 2013 by Alison Tyler. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Commuter Training by Teresa Noelle Roberts
Small Mercies by Rita Winchester
The Naughty Chair by Donna George Storey
Eleven O’Clock Deadline by Thomas S. Roche
Prey by Madeline Elayne
In Charge by ADR Forte
Too Strong to Break by Sophia Valenti
Filthy Rich by Shanna Germain
Cute Boy Gets Squeezed by D.L. King
On the Rocks by Heidi Champa
Golf Spelled Backwards by Andrea Dale
Eye Contact by Derek McDaniel
Senseless by Stella Harris
Just Desserts by Kiki DeLovely
Balancing the Books by Lucy Felthouse
Meltdown by Jax Baynard
You Say This is a Testament by Maria See
River of Beauty by Sharon Wachsler
When My Boyfriend Has a Party by Devin Phillips
Butter the Bird by Sommer Marsden
The Bondage Pig by Kristina Lloyd
Curry, Extra Hot by N.T. Morley
Burned by Alison Tyler

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