No Fool: An Undercover Mission

Excerpt

“It goes around the manhood.”

Mrs. Smith lifted her gaze toward her chosen man, a mocking glance in her eyes. “You mean, you get strapped into this thing and this part holds your jewels?”

Michael wondered for how long he could pretend this conversation to be normal. The urge to burst into laughter got stronger by the minute. “Indeed, that’s what it’s designed for.”

“Designed!” She gave back the harness, laughing herself silly.

He closed the drawer and opened the last. It was low enough for her to look into it without Michael’s help. He knelt beside her.

She pointed at a curved piece of metal with two blunt endings. “And this is?”

“A nose hook.”

“A what?”

“A nose hook. You put it in like this—” He demonstrated it. “So that the sub can’t lift his head.”

She picked another one, larger than the first. “And this is for someone with just one nostril?”

Michael did not know what Mrs. Smith would do if he rolled on the floor laughing. He decided to answer the question. “No, that’s another kind of hook. It belongs more to the backside.”

“I get the idea.” Her hand flew up. “No demonstration necessary.” She put it back as if it had bitten. A gesture included the contents of the sideboard. “Is there a reason, I mean, a background for all of this?”

“The goal is satisfaction. For both players.” He made up his mind before his self-restraint went to the gonads. “I’m sorry to ask, but you chose this scenario. Is it—”

“I’m always curious to learn new things.” She smiled as if it explained everything. “So, tell me all about it. This here. And what is possible. Or not.”

Michael shrugged and kept his ideas to himself. “It’s possible to use all of these items on me if you wish.”

“You enjoy being bound?”

He wanted to hear surprised eagerness and tried to find out by a glance. “For some time, yes. I’m not into a lifestyle of being submissive 24/7. I know, it is very satisfying for some people to give up their free will and just live to serve another being. I accept that as a culture of its own.” He watched her lovely face. Her eyes were big as saucers, her lips slightly parted. He wanted to be touched by her and inspire her with his body to go further. Her hands were small, but looked as if she had strength in them. The afternoon was looking up.

“A culture? Is that true?”

He nodded. He had spent hours researching this sexual subculture a year ago when he had had a girlfriend with special interests. With every article he had read about shackles, harnesses and collars, he had gotten more interested. He could not wait for someone to use these devices on him. How it would feel to be bound. Unfortunately, Mrs. Smith was far from that. She wanted to learn firsthand, which was—in Michael’s eyes and to his libido—a waste of time.

“It is true that there are more people every year who openly admit that they enjoy being bound.”

“And hurt?”

“That, too.”

“Is it truly so…arousing to live through pain?”

Michael wet his lips. Talking about this way of lovemaking was arousing in itself. He took a deep breath. “I could show you, Mrs. Smith, but you might not feel satisfaction if you’re not into this kind of game.”

Now her smile reminded him of a schoolgirl, who was always taken to be shy and suddenly jumped out of a party cake in the altogether. “Like I said, I’m always curious to learn new things. Take off your clothes. Right now.”

He searched her eyes to see if she was serious. She nodded once so he got up. “What about you doing it? I promise, I won’t struggle.”

She was quick on her feet and with glee in her eyes, pushed him across the foot end of the bed, laughing at his surprised expression. “Gotcha!”

Her whole face lit up. He loved her instantly. “Don’t be rash!” He gripped her shoulders to turn and straddle her. “And now?”

“Now I enjoy the view.” She opened the buttons of his dress shirt and leisurely pulled it over his shoulders.

He helped with the cuff links and dropped the dress shirt behind him.

“No undershirt? That’s risky. You could catch a cold.”

He laughed. “I’ll handle that.”

“But you won’t handle me.” She pretended a hook and pushed him to the side.

He rolled with her. “Beware, she’s a fighter!”

“Right.” Mrs. Smith straddled him across his chest, facing his legs. She undid belt, button and zipper to get Michael out of the pants. That way he got an excellent view of her snug derriere. “Black boxers.” She lifted her butt to look at him between her legs. “Do your boxers always fit the color of your pants?”

He nodded, pretending seriousness. “House rule.”

She giggled. “Off with them!”

Michael couldn’t grasp his luck. She was a player! “As you wish.”

“I knew you’d say that.” She turned around, dropping the boxers on the floor. “And now I’ll use all of the stuff in the sideboard!”

“Don’t forget to check the cupboard.”

“For the larger devices?”

“For the larger devices.”

She cocked her head. “You are really into this, aren’t you?”

“I was honest with you.” He outstretched his arms to lie spread-eagled on the cream-colored covers. “You can do what you want with me.”

Mrs. Smith cocked her head, brows raised. “Guess, that’s an invitation girls don’t get every time.”