Bound to Accept Read Online Free PDF Page A

apartment.
His is nicer than mine because unlike me, he actually has a “real
job.” He works as a software engineer at some small, local
start-up. I ring the doorbell. The door opens to reveal Tristan.
He's wearing True Religion jeans and a fitted black shirt that I've
never seen him wear around me.
    “ I thought I might have
scared you off.”
    “ Nope!” I tuck a lock of
hair behind my ear.
    “ Don't front with me,” he
says, pulling my hand away. “This won't work if you lie to me about
how you feel.”
    We stare at each other awkwardly.
    “ I guess I do find you a
little…intimidating.”
    He watches me shift from foot to foot.
“That's normal.” I watch his eyes flick back to my face. “Are you
going to come in?”
    “ Um, yeah.” He doesn't
move, so I sort of have to squeeze past him to get through the
door. I think he's wearing some kind of cologne, too. It smells
nice.
    “ Patchouli,” he says, when
I ask. “I'm glad you like it.”
    We walk past his kitchen, and into his
bedroom. I start to feel nervous—well, more nervous. He isn't going
to jump on me now, is he?
    “ Nervous?”
    “ Yes.” It's like he read
my mind. His TV is facing the bed. The two of us have sat here
multiple times, controllers in hand, duking it out on Super Smash
Bros. He's got it set to VH1, which confuses me. I thought we were
going to talk about BDSM. “Are we…are we watching a
movie?”
    “ Sit down.” It's as much a
question as it is a command. I get the impression that he's
watching me, measuring my worth. I hoist myself up on the mattress
and sit cross-legged, scooting over to make room for him. He
doesn't sit, though. Not right away. He's fiddling with the DVD
player.
    “ This will explain things
better than I ever could.”
    The screen flickers to life.
    “ Dungeon Masters,” I read.
The words are in this bizarre neon font that looks right out of the
80s. “Oh jeez. Not the D&D kind, then, I'm guessing.” I can't
seem to stop babbling.
    Tristan hops on the bed and sits very, very
close. We've sat this way before, but now there's a sexual charge
there that wasn't present before. “Stop talking.” He says the words
right into my ear and I have to try hard not to shiver. They seem
to drip right down my spine like cubes of ice, seeping into my
skin, an erotic cold-hot feeling that settles way down low in my
gut.
    “ But—”
    “ I'll gag you,
Kelly.”
    Looking at his face, I believe him. I shiver
a little.
    Dungeon Masters is
definitely not referring to the D&D kind. The movie starts in a
dark room, with a cloudy lens. As it sharpens in focus, it shows a
woman bound to a chair. Okay. I'm a little disturbed. That's new. She is wearing a series
of crisscrossing black leather belts in place of undergarments,
some cinched tightly around her breasts.
    She also has clamps on her nipples; they
have gone an alarming purplish color—the nipples, I mean, not the
clamps—but the woman doesn't seem to mind. Not that she'd be able
to tell you if she did: there's a bright red ball-gag stuffed into
her mouth.
    A man in leather pants walks onto the
screen. He's got a riding crop under his arm, but I can't take my
eyes away from his pants. They've got all these complicated looking
buckles that emphasize his well-built hips, and he's got one of
those deep Vs that means his abs are really defined. The crotch of
his pants is unsnapped, revealing his penis, which is fucking huge.
It is red and glistening, with thick purple veins that wrap around
it like the garland on a Christmas tree. From the look of it, the
man seems to like what he sees.
    He runs the flogger down the woman's front,
from her chin to her groin. Her legs are spread, bound to the back
legs of the chair, and her vagina is pretty much open. She's
completely shaved. It's like looking at the pages of an anatomy
textbook and not very sexy, although it does make it easier to see
what's going on. He gives her a single, controlled tap,
concentrating on her