Anything For You
And I mean that most sincerely, folks. I would lace my shoe, catch a kangaroo, go to Timbuktu and back again.
OK, what I actually want to say is that this is the title of a new anthology edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel and published by Cleis Press. It’s subtitled ‘Erotica For Kinky Couples’ and you’ll understand from that that I HAD to write a story for this. Kinky couples are my absolute favourite. Though kinky menages/moresomes are well up there too.
My story in this collection was a bit of an experiment. I felt rather cheeky submitting it, actually, because it’s a rewritten version of a story I already have in print (I explained all this to Rachel on sending). At the time, I was contemplating writing more from male point of view, and this was a tentative step in that direction. It was a good step, though, because it gave me confidence and I’ve written a lot more in that vein since. Here’s a tiny taster of I Tend To Her.
I didn’t want her to think that I was worried, and I wasn’t really – it was a simple enough case of strep throat, to be treated with antibiotics, rest and care. But even though her confinement to bed meant I wrote three times as much of the concerto as I would have done otherwise, I couldn’t completely ignore the tiny fear that she might never recover. That this might be it, and I might lose my Loveday. I rarely indulge myself in unbearable thoughts, butthree o’clockin the morning brought them out with their pitchforks and snarling teeth while Loveday tossed and turned beside me.
I control fear with control.
I caught her visiting the bathroom without permission and it gave me a chance to connect with her as her master rather than her nurse, so I seized it, steering her back to the bed once she emerged.
“Since you can’t be trusted to do as you’re told,” I said, “perhaps I need to tie you to the bed. Hmm? Should I?”
“No,” she whispered. “I’ll ask next time.”
“You’ve got your phone. If I’m in another room, just send me a message.”
She looked so pitifully small and unfocused, lost in the blankets, that the image of her wrists, bound, that had drifted pleasantly to mind dissolved quickly.
I went back to the concerto.
On the third day, she rose again – well, not quite, but almost.
My phone trilled and I opened the text message from Loveday.
“I need a doctor.”
It felt like a blow to the stomach. She was taking a turn for the worse. Now what would I do?
I rushed to the bedroom, finding her bundled in the blankets but looking no worse than she had done earlier.
“Are you alright, Love? Why do you need a doctor? Are you feeling worse?”
She shook her head.
“I meant you,” she warbled. “I need Doctor Rossington.”
Did she mean…? I narrowed my eyes.
“You mean you just worried me on a whim?”
“I didn’t mean to. I just felt the urgent need for some medical attention.”
Her voice was still harsh and miles out of its normal register, but the seductive tone was hard to miss. Minx. Lying there in that grannyish nightgown with her blonde hair all over the place and those lush lips cracked and dry, she looked more gorgeous than I had ever seen her.
I moved to the foot of the bed and folded my arms.
“Medical attention? Well, I think I can provide that. Take off your nightgown.”
Yikes! More fabulous kinkiness from such luminaries as Lisabet Sarai, Heidi Champa, Neil Gavriel, Deborah Castellano, Janine Ashbless, Madlyn March, Talon Rihai and Salome Wilde, Emerald, D L King, Sinclair Sexsmith, Elizabeth Coldwell, Teresa Noelle Roberts, Kathleen Tudor, Kay Jaybee, Angela R Sargenti, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Charlotte Stein and Ariel Graham can be found within.