More Whips; Fewer Chains

Chapter 8

STOP!!!

This book is intended for a MATURE, sexually liberated audience. Though its right to exist has been defended a myriad of times, the author concedes that it is NOT appropriate for everyone and NOT INTENDED FOR THE EYES OF CHILDREN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. It contains graphic descriptions of sadomasochistic sex, which is not in any way appropriate for children or some adults. It also contains LBTQ themes, which may be distasteful to some readers. It is not the intention of the author to offend in any way, nor push any political narrative of any sort.

Many of the acts depicted in this book are in fact, dangerous and may cause permanent injury or death. This book is not intended to be an instructional tool, and should be considered for what it is, a work of fiction. Don't try this at home, folks.

It should also be noted that all of the sexual actions in this book are made by consenting adults. Remember: the first three letters of the word consent are "con". They are also the same as the word "convict". If you do not have consent, you may wind up a convict.

Chapter 8: Fletcher takes a trophy

I went back to my apartment on Sunday and spent the day at doing the usual Sunday routine. An hour at the gym, coffee, curry for dinner and in bed by 9:00.

Monday morning came and the phone rang at 8:30AM. It was Fletcher.

"Hello, Katie, I was able to secure the funds for the car, I was wondering if you were ready to transfer over the title to me today?"

We agreed to meet at the Secretary of State's office at 10:00, and from there head directly to Grampa Charlie's place. I arrived at the office at 9:45, freshly showered and in a white sundress, with my favorite strappy sandals. At 10:01, the same Porsche 911 that Fletcher was driving pulled into the parking lot and Fletcher got out of the passenger side wearing the same silly outfit he was wearing, when I first saw him.

"Thanks, Dude!", he said to the driver who had long straight blonde hair down to the middle of his back. The Porsche took off at a high rate of speed. Fletcher greeted me with a, "Hello there, Little Missy", and kissed me on the cheek.

I blushed.

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind driving me back to your house after we finish our business here?"

"Sure."

At about noon, being $5700 richer, we finally finished our business and made our way back to Grampa Charlie's house, in my Fiero. I handed the keys to the Morgan over to Fletcher, who grinned with excitement.

"Will you take me for a ride in your new car?"

"I will tomorrow, I don't have much time today."

I frowned in disappointment.

"Want to come inside for a cup of tea?"

"I really don't have much time, but I suppose I can spare a few minutes."

We made our way into the kitchen, and I put on a pot of Earl Gray.

"So where are you taking me tomorrow?"

"It's a secret.", he said with an air of superiority.

"Do I at least get a hint?"

"Nope."

He cackled maniacally under his breath.

Fletcher stood there, leaning against the counter, his arms crossed, looking magnificent. It was then that my sexual frustration got the better of me, and I cornered him. I kissed him, long and full on the lips. He tried to pull away, but I wasn't going to be denied.