Bound in Arrogance

by Julia P. Lynde

I took a sip of my coffee, looking over the rim at Penny. I hadn't actually wanted to sit with her and her friends, but she'd seen me standing in line for my coffee and had invited me over. Penny was discussing her latest conquest from last night, and she seemed pretty pleased about it.

Penny had quite the following, and my tablemates were a good example. When I'd come over with my iced latte, Penny had told Maria, "Sit over here next to me, Maria. Kris and I can slide over a little and give Veronica and Irene a little more room." So I found myself facing a vacuous Kris, Penny, and a vacuous Maria across the booth from me, with Irene next to me. I actually liked Irene. She had a brain, but she never pulled it out when Penny was around.

It could be difficult to pull out a brain around Penny, of course. Penny liked to hold court. She was very good at it, of course. She was intelligent with a scathing wit. She was kind to women who figuratively bowed to her, but you better have a lot of confidence if you were going to attempt a real conversation around her.

I had a lot of confidence.

"Of course, she almost lost it at one point," Penny was saying. "I was disappointed, we'd only been playing for an hour or so. But I asked her if she wanted me to stop." Penny grinned.

"What happened?" Maria asked her, hanging on every word.

"She begs very nicely," Penny said. "With such beautiful, quivering lips. How could I turn that down?" She laughed. "It took me four beautiful hours before she was completely wrung out." Penny sighed dramatically. "It'll be weeks before she's ready for me again."

I shook my head.

Penny cocked her head at me. "You think I'm lying?"

"No," I said. "I don't know what the big deal is. Four hours? So what?"

The four women exchanged looks before Penny looked straight into my eyes. "I'd bet anything you want that you wouldn't last two hours with me."

I laughed. "Like that would happen."

Irene hadn't said anything after her "Hello, Veronica," when I sat down. But now she spoke again. "It's easy to talk big."

I looked over her. She wasn't mocking me. I raised an eyebrow and she shrugged at me before turning back to her mocha. I looked back at Penny. She hadn't taken her eyes off me.

"I'm not your type," I told her. "And you're not mine."

"I'm willing to make an exception." She paused. "But as Irene said. It's easy to talk big. We can just drop it."

I was the first to look away.

"I think she's afraid of you, Penny," said Kris.

Penny didn't respond. She just continued to look at me. But Kris' comment got my goat up. I tried staring Kris down, but she returned my stare, then mouthed the word, "chicken".

"Are we children?" I asked her.

She quietly made a couple of chicken noises. Maria and Irene snickered just a little. "That's enough, Kris," Penny told her. Penny still hadn't taken her eyes off me. "Veronica knows how it would turn out. I don't blame her for being afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you, Penny," I told her. "I just don't know what the big deal is."

"Maybe it's time you found out," she said. "I've heard what you like to do. You can be a little cruel. You wouldn't last two hours, and I wouldn't even have to hurt you. I would just stick to the things I did last night or things I know you've done before."

It was stupid. I knew it the moment the words came out. I don't know why I agreed. I just wanted to wipe that smug look off all four faces. Although to be fair, Penny didn't look smug. She just looked confident.

"What are we wagering over, then?" I asked her.

She smiled and thought about it for a moment. "Photos."

"No."

"They'll be tasteful, and none of your face. I'll crop them so no one knows it's you, but I get to post them on my blog." She paused. "If you're so sure you'll win, you shouldn't be afraid of a few pictures."

"Fine," I said. "If I win, I get to redecorate your loft. You have to leave it however I do it for at least six months. You'll get a free Veronica Wilson interior design." I paused. "You seem like the pony type. Maybe ballerinas."

She winced. "No ballerinas."

"When?" I asked her.

"Saturday, my loft, eight PM. Don't be late. If you're not begging me by ten PM, you win."

"Fine," I said.

"Fine," she agreed.

"Fine," I said again. Maybe we were children, but I was having a hard time leaving her the last word. She smiled sweetly and drank her coffee.

I stayed for a few more minutes. "I have to go," I said. "I have a client meeting in twenty minutes." I started to get up.

"Veronica," Penny said. "Dress nice, please. If you change your mind, call me." She said it nicely.

* * *

It was ten minutes before eight on Saturday evening when I rang the buzzer for Penny's apartment. She buzzed me up and was waiting by the door for me when I arrived on her floor. She let me in, closing and locking the door behind me, then we turned to face each other.

I had contemplated wearing grubby clothes, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. I liked looking nice. Still, I had dressed simply in a white blouse with a black skirt, nylons and low heals. I'd worn a black pashmina to combat the chilly evening. Penny took it from me and carefully hung it up.

Penny was dressed in a completely different style. She had gone with her leather look. I had to admit, she pulled it off well. Black leather vest, black skirt, and tall black, nylons and black leather boots. She looked predatory.

We didn't exactly exchange pleasantries. I handed her the bottle of wine I brought. She smiled as she looked at it. "Always the perfect guest," she told me. "Shall I open it now?"

"After," I said. "If we're talking to each other. Or consider it a gift."

She looked me up and down and smiled. It was actually a kind smile. "We don't have to do this," she told me. "If you bend down and kiss my feet, I won't even blog about it. I'll just take a photo of how you are now and say what a nice time I had with you tonight. We can have a few drinks and laugh about it."

I thought about it. She wasn't being a bitch, so I shoved my own inner bitch down and asked her, "Why are you making that suggestion?"

"It's not a suggestion so much as an offer," she said. "I don't think you have the vaguest idea what you're in for. I'm giving you a chance to retreat with a certain amount of grace." She smiled. "Although I admit I like the idea of you kissing my feet. If that's all I get out of this, I can live with that."

I looked around. She, like myself and many of our mutual friends, lived in a large, trendy converted warehouse building. She had very high ceilings, exposed beams, and stone walls. I turned back to her. "I think pink is your color," I told her.

She stared at me for a moment before saying, "All right then. Come on in."

She led the way fully into her loft. I hadn't been here before. She pointed to a clock on the wall. "There are three clocks in this room," she said. "They are all accurate. I set a timer to go off at ten, but if you want to set your own, I won't be offended."

I looked her up and down. Finally I said, "If I don't trust you, I shouldn't be here in the first place."

She looked at me in surprise then said, "Thank you. That's the kindest thing you've ever said to me." She paused. "You have a few minutes. Do you need to powder your nose, or perhaps you would like a cup of tea?"

"No thank you," I told her.

"Well then," she said. "Feel free to look around. It's not too late to kiss my feet."

She watched me as I wandered around her loft. She had one large entertaining area and doors leading to other rooms. It was a lot like my loft in that way, but of course the decorating was significantly different. There were four very large wooden pillars helping to support the ceiling, and she had a heavy hook embedded in two of them higher than I could reach. Hanging from one of the hooks were a pair of chains ending in manacles. I turned to look at her.

"Those aren't for you," she said. "At least not tonight."

Near the pillar was a metal rolling cart with a towel draped over it. She caught me looking at it. "Just a few toys. You'll get to see them soon."

The reality of what I had agreed to finally started to settle in. I'd never allowed anyone to do any of this to me before. Normally I was the one doing it. I looked over at her, but she didn't look like she was mocking me. I caught what I thought was a look of anticipation. I checked my own emotions and realized I was growing increasingly nervous.

She walked over to me. "How's your breathing, Veronica?" she asked me. "Pulse rate increasing? It's almost eight." She paused. "You look nice tonight. Thank you."

"You do too, Penny," I told her.

She stepped away and walked around me, appraisingly. "I've wanted you for a long time, you know," she told me. "You're not my usual type, you were right about that the other day. I've been thinking for three days about what I'm going to do to you."

I looked away.

"It's eight o'clock, Veronica," she said. "Last chance to kiss my feet."

"Pink," I told her. "Maybe some polka dots. You'll love it."

She smiled and then her grin grew more predatory. I watched the change come over her. I wondered if that's how I looked most of the time. She stepped up to me, but she didn't take a direct path. It was more like she were circling me for a moment, coming closer first on one side, then on the other. I didn't realize it until my back came up against the pillar, but I'd actually instinctively been moving away from her, and she had herded me directly into the pillar.

"It's too late to play hard to get," she said, closing the gap between us. She reached for my wrists, and I let her take them. She shoved my hands over my head and against the pillar. Then she pressed her body against me and kissed me.

I didn't kiss her back. She pulled away after a moment and said, "Well, that was disappointing."

She turned away from me. "I thought you would at least play."

I looked at her back. "I'm sorry," I told her. "You're right."

She turned around and looked at me. My hands were still where she had left them, suspended over my head. She closed the gap again, grabbing my arms above the elbows this time, forcing them against the pillar, and kissed me again. I kissed her back.

She tasted of vanilla, and I decided I liked it.

Her tongue caressed my lips. I opened for her, and her tongue invaded my mouth. When she finally pulled away, we were both gasping. My heart was pounding. She looked a little wild, but she was grinning. "That's more like it, Veronica. Oh, I've wanted this." She laughed herself at me again, grinding her body against mine. I started to lower my arms to wrap them around her, but as soon as I did, she trapped my wrists and pushed them firmly against the pillar again. She broke the kiss just long enough to say, "Leave them there!" then she was kissing me again.

She released my hands, but I left them where she had ordered. It was hard to think. I was nervous, but she tasted wonderful. I felt her fingers start on the buttons of my blouse, but she didn't stop kissing me, her tongue moving in and out of my mouth possessively. She tugged my blouse out of my skirt and finished unbuttoning it, then pulled away.

Looked me up and down, then stepped back and sank to her knees in front of me. I looked down and watched as she unbuckled my first shoe. "Step out of it," she ordered. I did. She removed my next shoe as well.

I was naturally an inch or two taller than Penny, but with her in her boots and me now in flat feet, she was very slightly taller than I was. She stood back up and looked me in the eye. "Win or lose," she told me, "I am going to enjoy what I have planned for you." Then she pressed herself against me, slipped her hands down my legs, hooked them under my skirt, then found the waistband of my nylons with her thumbs. She caressed my ass with her fingers, then began wriggling the nylons down my legs. I stepped out of them. She gathered them up and set them on a nearby sofa.

Then she returned to me, kissed me again, and pulled my wrists down from over my head. She slipped the blouse off my shoulders, folded it, and added it to the pile on the sofa. I was wearing a front clasp bra, and she deftly removed it. Then she shoved me back against the pillar and pushed my hands above my head again. "Stay," she said after a quick kiss and invasion by her tongue.

She stepped away and looked at me. "Nice," she said. "You have an amazing body, Veronica." She paused. "It's going to be fun watching your limber arms straining against the restraints."

I hadn't said anything since she'd started touching me.

She stepped back up, unzipped my blouse, and helped me out of it, slipping my undies down at the same time. I stepped out of everything.

The pillar was made of rough wood, and it felt uncomfortable against my back. She pushed me further into it, slipping one leg between mine. She ran her fingers down my side, beginning all the way at my wrist, then down my arm and all the way to my hip. I shivered.

"Last chance, Veronica," she said after a moment.

"You keep offering," I said. "I'm not afraid of you."

She cocked her head. "You will be. But I'm glad you're turning my offers down. God, you taste good."

She grabbed one of my wrists and tugged me after her. I resisted for a moment, but she turned around and glared. "Uh uh," she said. "You agreed to cooperate." I followed meekly after her.

She dragged me over to the other pillar on the same side of the main room, then behind it. There was some sort of metal sculpture there. "You'll like this," she said. "Or you would if the roles were reversed." She led me around it.

There were four upright posts. The front posts were in an S-curve and met the rear posts eight feet off the floor. Between each front post were horizontal bars. Due to the S-curve shape of the front posts, the lowest bar, a few inches off the floor, was inset slightly, then the next bar at knee height was the furthest forward. The third bar was slightly below waist level and about vertically even with the lowest bar. There was a fourth bar at shoulder level, further back from the third bar, and a fifth bar slightly above my head directly above the fourth bar. The entire sculpture was bolted firmly to the floor.

I looked at Penny. She was watching me. "What is it?" I finally asked her.

She smiled. "Turn around." She didn't wait for me to comply, but grasped my shoulders and turned me so my back was facing the sculpture. "Back up," she said, pushing gently. I stepped back cautiously until the backs of my legs were touching the second bar. It was cold. I tried to jerk away from it, but she pushed me gently then laughed. "Cold? Don't move."

Then she stepped away, moving to a dresser along one wall. She opened the second drawer and began removing things from it. She came back via the cart, tossing several things on top of the towel before rolling the whole thing next to the sculpture. I looked over. She had retrieved a variety of restraints. She took a wrist cuff, walked up to me, then wrapped it around my right wrist, securing it with a small padlock. She took my hand and had me clasp the bar over my head. I had to stretch backwards to reach it. Then she wrapped another cuff around my left wrist. She attached leads to the left cuff, wrapped it around the upper bar and the rear post, then secured it to the cuff, drawing it tightly, stretching my arms out and back. She did the same to the left wrist. "I'll pull those tighter shortly."

She retrieved two more restraints from the cart and knelt if front of me. One went around each ankle and was secured with a small lock. Then she took leads and wrapped them around the front bars, drawing them tightly and causing me to spread my legs very wide.

She stood up and looked at me. "Are you starting to understand?" she said.

I looked at her and nodded.

She launched herself at my mouth. She still tasted wonderful.

"I can feel your heart pounding, Veronica," she said when she let me go. "And I've barely started. Is that anticipation? Lust? Fear? Maybe a little of each of them."

She didn't wait for an answer. She had more restraints on the cart. She fastened a collar around my neck but didn't attach anything to it. Then she took a strap and ran it through my legs, caressing my vulva in the process. I jumped. She laughed. "I'm going to have fun playing there in a little while," she said. "But you're not anywhere near secure enough yet. The strap she had wrapped around my leg, very high, then around the bar several inches behind me. She wrapped another around my other leg, then moved behind me and began to tighten both straps, pulling me backwards off balance. I was forced to bend my legs at the knees until I came up cold against the third bar. She secured the two straps tightly.

"Comfy?" she asked grinning.

"No," I told her.

"Aww," she said. "Don't pout."

She retrieved another strap and stepped around behind me. I tried to follow her with my eyes. She leaned forward, wrapped the strap around my chest above my breasts, and around the fourth bar. She began tightening the straps. I pulled against it.

"If you don't cooperate," she said, "I will consider this a forfeit. I will also get mean. So far I haven't been mean."

I let her pull me until my shoulders were pressed against the fourth bar. She secured the strap, then checked and further tightened the two around my legs. She reached up and pulled my arms tighter, so they were pulled above my head and as far apart as they could go.

"Almost ready," she said. She had two more straps on the cart. She grabbed them both and moved behind me. She clipped one to each of the ankle restraints and around the lowest bar. Then she began tightening one, pulling my foot backwards until the ankle was touching the bar. She did the same with the other, and I hung from the straps wrapped around me. My knees were bent, my toes barely touching the floor, and there was an arch in my back with my head actually bent past my feet.

She went around and checked each of her straps. They were all secure. She stepped in front of me and looked at me. "Veronica," she said. "If anything is cutting off circulation, now is the time to tell me. I know you're not comfortable, but nothing should hurt."

She was right. I wasn't at all comfortable. There was a bend in my back I didn't like at all, and I couldn't move more than wriggling my fingers. "Nothing hurts," I told her.

She nodded. "If that changes, you will tell me."

I nodded.

She smiled then stepped closer. She had to climb with her feet on the lower bars, her body between my legs, but she draped herself over me and kissed me. Yet again her tongue invaded my mouth. I opened willingly to her.

Breathless, she climbed down from me, then she ran her fingernails down my sides, tickling me. I tried squirming away from her touch, but I wasn't going anywhere. She grinned as the began tickling in earnest. I kept trying to get away, but of course I wasn't going anywhere. Eventually I surrendered, just hanging their limply. Through all of it, I kept my lips clamped together, making only a little noise when she achieved a particularly effective tickle.

Finally she stopped. I looked up at her. "You didn't think I'd beg from a little tickling, did you?"

She smiled. "Of course not," she said. "I was making a point."

Then she knelt down in front of me and began tickling the bottoms of my feet. I tried squirming madly but all I could do was point the toes in different positions. Still, I managed to keep my lips closed, breathing loudly through my nose. She was giggling up at me, watching my face.

Again, she relented, still grinning. She slowly stood up, both her hands running up the insides of my legs. When her fingers reached my vulva, I instinctively tried to close my legs to her touch. She stared into my eyes as both her hands began to play gently with me. Then she put her left hand on my hip but two fingers of her right began to slowly invade me.

"For someone who doesn't like this," she said, "you're awfully ready for me." She smiled. "Maybe I'll keep you for a while."

I couldn't escape from her fingers. She began stroking me and it felt amazingly good. "Oh god," I said.

She laughed and her fingers withdrew.

"Have I made my point yet?" she asked.

I frowned. I didn't know what point she wanted to make.

"I can do anything I want to you, Veronica. Anything. You can't stop me. You can't even struggle. You're open to me now. Helpless." She licked her lips and her voice grew husky. "Vulnerable." She stared at my chest. "You're going to beg, Veronica," she said. "But I'm going to take my time. Oh, I'm going to have fun with you."

She stepped away and pulled the cart over to stand in front of me. Then she slowly pulled the towel off.

She had a variety of toys. I had many of the same toys. I looked at the cart and found myself trying to squirm again.

"The girl the other night," she said. "She picked me up. Can you believe it? She saw me at the club, walked straight to me, and told me flat out I could do anything I wanted to her." She smiled, remembering. "She knew who I was. She'd heard of me. She was very, very lovely, so I kissed her. She tasted divine. I brought her home. She saw this rack, her eyes grew wide, and she fell down at my feet and begged me to tie her to it. I secured her to it the same way you are now."

Penny picked up a set of nipple clamps. I had a pair just like it. I'd tried them once on myself, but hadn't cared for them. "As soon as she was helpless, I asked her if she wanted to wear these. She took one look at them and asked if I had a more serious pair." She shrugged and set the nipple clamps down. "Oh, don't be disappointed. Shortly you'll be wearing the set she picked."

She picked up a head harness with a ball gag attached. "I didn't get to use this on her. She wasn't a screamer, and I liked hearing her beg. I wonder if I'll have to use it on you. I know you've used these before, so they're fair game tonight. I bet you're a screamer, once it gets more intense than you can handle."

She set it back down, the picked up a pair of leather gloves. I had a pair of those, too. They were embedded with little tacks into them, so when you touch someone with them, they're being poked by one or two dozen small tacks. She pulled the gloves on. "She asked for a spanking while I was wearing these," she said. "I'd never done that before." She stepped around behind me and patted my bottom very lightly with the gloves. I flinched.

"You wouldn't," I told her.

"You agreed," she said. "Anything you've ever done or anything I did to that girl. She begged me to spank her with these. Imagine how it's going to feel when I spank you. Each of these little tacks embedding themselves into your bottom. Imagine the bleeding. I'll have to remember to put a towel down this time. I don't want another bloody mess to clean up on the floor."

I started to struggle with my bonds.

Penny smiled at me.

"Are you starting to understand, Veronica?"

She took the gloves back off and set them on the cart. She picked up a vibrator, turning it on for a moment. "Oh, this is for me," she said, turning it off and setting it back down again. She frowned. "I seem to be missing a few toys though."

She had had barely touched me yet, but finding myself so helpless was scaring me. Penny was scaring me. I pulled further on my bonds. My breathing grew rapid and shallow.

She went back to her dresser and retrieved a rather large plug. "This is actually smaller than the one I used on her," she said. "I hope you won't feel too cheated. I don't want to actually tear you." She walked over and set it on the cart. I stared at it.

Then she dug into her drawer once more and pulled out a large dildo. She set it on the dresser, frowning, then pulled out a larger one. She smiled and walked back to me. "Yes, this one, I think. Do you like it's girth?"

She held it up where I could see it. It was bigger than anything I would ever want inside me. My eyes grew wide.

She set it on the cart.

She looked over at me. "That should be enough for now." She picked the dildo back up and stepped in front of me. She started at me for a moment. "Veronica," she said. "You're sweating. And I can see your heart pounding from here."

She was right. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't move. I started hyperventilating. I couldn't breath, I couldn't move. She stepped closer, lowing the dildo down out of sight between us. "You were so ready earlier, you won't need any lubrication," she said. "Just relax now and this will slide in so much easier."

As soon as I felt it touch against the inside of one leg I started scrambling to pull away from it. No way was that going inside me. I couldn't move, but I kept trying to back away, my toes scrambling on the floor. I pulled with my arms, trying to lift myself away from the dildo.

She stepped away from me. "Veronica," she said. "You're on the edge of panic. If you give in now, you're going to ruin days of planning." She started to look angry. "I spent a lot of time thinking about how to make this special, and I will not have you ruining it."

She walked back to the cart and picked up the head harness and gag. "Screw the bet," she said. "You can redecorate all you want. You're here, I've wanted you looking just like this for a long time. If you're gagged, I won't be able to hear you beg me to stop." She stepped behind me, then reached in front of me with the harness, ready to slip the ball into my mouth and the harness over my head. "Be a good girl and open up now."

As soon as she pressed the ball against my lips, I lost it.

"No! Penny no!" I began thrashing, completely out of my mind. I couldn't move, I couldn't stop her. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I was breathing so fast I couldn't breathe. "Please no! Please no!" I started sobbing.

The harness disappeared from view, and I heard it fall to the floor. Then she stepped very close behind me so our faces were next to each other, the back of my head against her shoulder. She began caressing me. "Shhh," she said. "Shhh. I'm not going to hurt you. Shhhh."

I kept crying, no longer able to talk between sobs. She reached up with one hand, the other still petting my forehead, and began to untie one wrist.

"No," I said between sobs. "Pictures first."

"Shhh," she said. "No pictures. Shhh."

"Pictures," I said, crying.

"All right," she said, stepping away.

She went away for a moment, then came back with her camera, standing behind me. "Look to your right, Veronica," she said. The flash went off once. "There," she said. She set the camera aside then returned to me with a key. She bent down in front of me and unlocked both my feet and helped me set them on the floor. Then she undid the straps around my chest and legs before releasing my wrists. She caught me before I collapsed to the floor. I put my arms around her. She held me as I cried into her shoulder.

Then she gently pulled me to the couch, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it around me before gently pushing me down onto the sofa. She sat down next to me, and I wrapped myself in her, crying myself out.

She kept saying "shhh, Veronica. Shhh." She was soothing and gentle.

When I had cried myself out, she handed me a box of kleenex. "I'm going to open the wine you brought. Will you wait for me here?"

I nodded at her. She went into the kitchen and came out with the bottle and two glasses. She poured us both glasses then returned to the couch, handing a glass to me.

I drank some of the wine and she looked at me kindly. "I wouldn't have done any of that to you," she said. "I never do anything to anyone unless she wants me to."

"You wouldn't?"

"I would have had fun with you, but if the fear hadn't broken you, I imagine you would be redecorating my apartment. I couldn't have hurt you."

We sat silently for a while. "Did she really beg you to spank her with those?"

"Yes," she told me. "But I refused." She paused. "I tried to give her what she wanted, but she wanted it a whole lot rougher than I was willing to give her. That's not love making, that's abuse."

She reached over and gently lifted my chin with her hand. "It can be hard, but I always try to think about what she wants. If I only think about what I want, neither of us is satisfied."

Then she leaned over and kissed me gently.

* * *

The five of us met the following week back at the same coffee shop. Penny had gotten there first. She had her laptop with her. I sat down in the booth across from her. She looked up and slid a thumb drive across the table to me. "This is for you," she said.

Then Irene, Kris and Maria settled into the table with us. "So," said Maria. "Who won?"

I looked away. Penny turned her laptop around. "Veronica," she said. "Perhaps you would read my blog entry."

I looked at her screen, dreading what I'd fine. Then I began to read.

"Veronica came over on Saturday. We sat on the sofa, drinking wine and chatting until late into the night. I had a lovely time."

I looked at her questioningly. She just smiled at me.

* * *

I looked at thumb drive when I got home. There was a single file. I opened it and discovered the photo of me. It was taken from over my right shoulder, my face in profile. You could see my bare shoulder and a single tear sliding down my cheek. It was the most powerful photo ever taken of me.

I look at it now and then to remind myself the price of arrogance.

About the author:

Julia P. Lynde lives and works in the American mid-west. This is her first novel.

Julia is older than most of the characters in her books. She has blue eyes and grey hair. She enjoys hiking in the mountains (difficult to do in the mid-west) and hosting dinner parties.

Julia can be reached via email as julia.p.lynde@gmail.com.

Julia's other works include:

Novels

Rewind:

Rewind is set several years after Bound in Arrogance.

Emerging from traumatic events of her past, Shane is left dealing with newfound self-revelations until she seeks help from an unexpected quarter.

Veronica is a stunning and powerful businesswoman who knows what she wants and lives for the seduction involved in getting it.

Complicated doesn't begin to describe the results.

Pulled to the Dark: The Siriena Series Volume 1:

Felicia Conner begins having recurring dreams of the woman who gave her a great new job. Night after night, Petra appears in her dreams. Petra begins to teach Felicia the wonders of the dream world she inhabits while Felicia begins to wonder how she can have such lifelike dreams night after night.

Petra welcomes Felicia to the world of Siriena, where the world may just very well be as it seems.

This complete novel of 95,000 words contains swords, magic, intriguing characters, an easy-to-hate villain and graphic sex scenes between Felicia and Petra.

Shorts

Snow Bound

Snow Bound Volume 1

After a near experience with a deer, Allison is pulled from her car by Sarah, troubled twenty-five-year-old photographer. Sarah drives Allison to Allison's secluded cabin on a lake, where the two become snow bound.

Allison finds Sarah deeply attractive. Will Sarah's troubled past interfere with a possible future?

This short of 10,000 words contains graphic sex, light bondage, domination, and a mind game or two. Show Bound is continued in Snow Rebound.

An Excerpt from Rewind

I remember the girl. She was young enough I thought of her as a girl but old enough I should call her a woman. She seemed unextraordinary. She was of moderate height wearing nondescript clothes. Jeans and a tee-shirt, I suppose. I’m not really sure now. In an earlier age she would have appeared out of place downtown during business hours, but with casual Friday turning into casual everyday over the years, the girl looked only slightly less dressed up than many of the people hurrying along the sidewalks during their lunch breaks.

Only she wasn’t hurrying. Maybe that’s why I first noticed her. Or maybe it was her hair. Long and almost flame red. One couldn’t help but notice her hair. It was unkempt and wind-tossed, but still very striking. I remember wondering whether she realized just how wonderful her hair was.

She seemed oblivious to what was going on around her. She stopped and knelt down, I suppose to tie her shoe. She must not have noticed the light rail train coming up behind her.

I don’t remember where I was going, what I was doing there. But I remember this. I was suddenly next to her, reaching down and wrapping my arms around her midriff, yanking her up to pull her out of the way moments before the train could reach her. She let out a quick screech. Or maybe it was the train.

I remember the impact. The train struck me in the back, really just a glancing blow, but it sent both of us flying. I hit something else. A parked car, perhaps.

Then all went black.

* * *

Time passed. I couldn’t have told you how much. I could only tell you that time had passed. Awareness came to me patiently. It started with sounds. None of the expected sounds, though. No traffic noises, no beeping of hospital machines, no footsteps of nurses hurrying to tend to patients.

I remembered the accident. I knew I had to have been badly hurt. I did a little mental check, wondering when the pain would kick in. I wondered briefly if I had been paralyzed in the accident, if that was the reason why I couldn’t feel anything. But I realized that I could feel my weight against the bed and a sheet pulled up to my chin. I eventually decided I must be on some really good painkillers. Gratitude seemed an appropriate emotion.

At some point I opened my eyes. It was dark at first, but then the room began to brighten. It was strange. Although I could see light, there was no form, nothing for my eyes to focus upon. It was as if I were seeing the entire world through frosted glass.

I heard a noise, the sound of someone shifting in a chair beside my bed. I turned my head to see who was watching over me. What I saw instead was a bright light, too bright to look into. I squinted, but that didn’t help. Then the light began to dim and a form began to take shape. Sitting in a comfortable chair beside my bed was a woman I didn’t recognize.

She was glowing with a white, golden, purple, red, silver light. I blinked. She was still glowing, smiling softly at me. I looked around, but all I could see was the bed I was in and the woman in her chair. There was nothing else to see.

I looked back at her, opened my mouth to speak. All that came out was a rough croak. I closed my mouth and swallowed. The woman continued to wait patiently, still smiling softly at me. I looked at her, waiting for my voice to come to me, and realized how amazingly beautiful she was. Here was a woman to steal the hearts of all mankind with just a glance of her eyes and a twitch of her mirthful lips. I was at least half in love with her immediately.

I tried again to speak. This time, the sounds made more sense. “Where am I?” I paused for just a moment. The woman seemed to know I had more to say. “The girl? Is she okay?”

As if pleased with my questions, her smile grew briefly before being replaced with a more serious expression. “Where are you? You are Between.”

The answer made no sense. “Between where?”

“Between Earth and Heaven,” was the reply. Which also made no sense. The woman just watched me, ever patiently, while I puzzled it out. I stared off in the distance, focusing on nothing for a moment, then my eyes snatched back to hers.

“I was wrong.”

“To be fair,” she replied. “You never really made up your mind one way or the other.”

I considered her words. She didn’t seem upset with me. “You’re…” I said, asking a question.

She just nodded once, slowly, almost as a mini bow.

“So, I died.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” she said. “Neither of you were. I’m sorry. I was…” she paused. “Distracted,” she said eventually.  “If I had seen what she was going to do, I’d have intervened.”

“But,” I said, sputtering. “You’re God. You can do anything! Can’t you just roll back time, undo everything?”

She looked at me sadly, apologetically. “You shouldn’t believe all the propaganda.”

“You said, ‘What she was going to do.’ She knew the train was coming?”

The woman nodded again. “I knew she was troubled. She had much to be troubled over, but so much promise too. I had such hopes for her.” Then she looked at me directly. “And for you.”

“For me? I’m just-“

She interrupted me. “No one is just anything. You all cast ripples throughout the world with small actions sometimes having such profound effect. You had some ripples waiting inside you, ripples I very much would have enjoyed watching. And the girl, too. I needed her, needed her to seek help for her troubles.” She paused, smiled for a moment. “Help can appear in the strangest places, you know.”

I let her words sink in. “The girl died too?”

“No. And yes. Her body is in a coma. Very recoverable. I wouldn’t even need to nudge things along. Which I almost never do anyway. But her soul is a different story. It’s in tatters. I can’t send her back like this, not for a long time. Too long for her body to wait for her.”

A glass of water appeared in her hand. She stood up, cradling my body for me, and held the glass to my lips. I drank carefully. Then she laid me back into the bed and smoothed the sheet over my body again.

She watched me, allowing me to settle my thoughts, before she spoke again.

“So, where was I? Oh, yes. Ripples. I would really, truly enjoy watching those ripples from both of you. But the problem is, I have one working soul: yours. And one working body: hers. I can’t send her soul back to her body, and I can’t send your soul back to your body. So we’re left with one working solution.”

She sat back, looking quite pleased with herself. She let me figure out the rest on my own.

“You want to send me back into her body?”

“Exactly!” she said, beaming. “It’s a good body. Slightly bruised of late, but bruises heal. She’s troubled, and you’ll inherit those troubles. You’ll have her memories, and I’ll leave you some of your own. I can’t let you take too many details with you; leaving you with the temptation to contact people from your old life is far too cruel. And I hope you can embrace this new life rather than pine for the old one.”

“You’re talking as if I have a choice.”

“Of course you do,” she told me. “I never send a soul to Earth if it doesn’t want to go.”

I considered for a moment. “Can I ask some questions first?”

“You want to know why I allow evil in the world.”

It was my turn to smile. “Of course I do, but I can figure that out on my own.”

She laughed, and it was if the heavens laughed with her. I suppose they did. “I gave you all brains,” she said finally. “I do so love when you actually use them.”

She sat, chuckling to herself for a few more moments, then quieted down and waited for me to ask my questions.

“Why me?” I asked simply.

“Oh, so many reasons,” she said. “But at the core of them is this: you have such a strong sense of right and wrong, and it all comes from within yourself. You don’t need me or anyone else to tell you what’s right and what’s wrong. I love this about you.”

I considered what she said. She was right, I guess. I hadn’t lived my life worrying so much about what others thought was right and what was wrong, but I decided myself. “What about when I’m at a disagreement with the religious leaders?”

“Ah, the people who profess to speak for me, who know what I like and what I don’t?”

I nodded.

“Take those people with a grain of salt,” she said simply.

“One more question?” I asked. She nodded. “My dog?”

“Your brother.”

At that point, I started to cry. “Hush, hush,” she said, patting my hand. “Your brother is going to grow to love your dog.”

“I know,” I said, blubbering. “He’s good with dogs. I was just afraid no one would take her in.”

She crawled into the bed with me, cradling me in her arms, rocking back and forth and making soothing noises.

“I’m sorry,” I said after a time. “I shouldn’t be this upset.”

“It’s hard to give up everything you once knew,” she replied. She continued to rock me as a mother would a young child. As I calmed down, she laid me back into the bed and slipped into her chair again. I dried my eyes with the sheet. She smiled.

“So what do you want me to do when I go back?”

“Be yourself,” she said. “Would you like some advice?”

I nodded.

She raised one finger. “Don’t talk about any of this.”

“They’ll think I’m mad.”

“Exactly.” She raised another finger. “Follow your heart.” She raised a third finger. “Trust your instincts.” She waggled her fingers at me. “Remember, help is sometimes found in unexpected places.”

She continued to waggle her fingers, almost in a wave, and I felt myself slipping away from her. But then she spoke again, and it was is if she were whispering directly into my ear.

“One last thing,” she said. “I surely do enjoy reading your stories.”

I remember my last thought as everything disappeared.

God likes my stories?

An Excerpt from Pulled to the Dark

I couldn't move.

At first I couldn't see, either.

I heard a voice, a woman's voice. She was humming and speaking words in a language I didn't recognize. Then, slowly, I could see.

I still couldn't move.

The woman was kneeling over me. That's all I could see, her form, kneeling over me. She saw my eyes looking at her, and she smiled, still humming and speaking words I didn't know.

She had long, raven black hair. It was brushed away from her right ear and hung over her left shoulder, dangling down between us. She was dressed in a bright red silk blouse and black skirt. She had slight features and bright green eyes. I judged her slightly older than my twenty-eight years.

She was perhaps the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

I stared into her eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came forth. "Where am I," I wanted to ask. "Who are you? What are you doing to me?"

She lifted her hand and placed it over my lips. Still, she smiled, speaking those words, her beautiful green eyes staring into mine.

She lifted her fingers from my mouth. They were long and delicate. Then I felt her stroke my sides with those same fingers, long, delicate strokes. I realized I was undressed, lying on my back with this woman staring down at me, still speaking her magic words.

I woke with a start, but one word hung in my ears.

"Mine."

Bound in Arrogance

Copyright 2012 by Julia P. Lynde

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

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