Christian pulled his lips away
from Anastasia’s, and held her at arms’ length.
His dark eyes bored into hers, and he whispered hoarsely.
“Do you like… to play?”
“Oh yes,” Anastasia whispered
back. Christian led her down a corridor,
towards a towering door, which he unlocked with a silver key on a long slender
chain.
“Welcome,” he hissed, swinging
open the door, “to my Black Room of Pleasure”.
Whips mounted on one wall. Some kind of swinging black harness hanging
from the ceiling. Black plastic on the
floor. Manacles. A shelf of dildos. Masks.
“Oh,” Anastasia said, trying to
hide her disappointment, “it’s a sex dungeon!”
“Yes, my pretty,” breathed
Christian, pressing against her from behind. “Do you like?”
“Ah,” said Anastasia, “it’s
lovely.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just,” said Anastasia,
making an apologetic face, “I’m really… I’m not really into that kind of
thing.”
“Which kind of thing?”
“This,” she used one hand to
indicate all of the things, “this kind of thing.”
“You said you like to play!”
“I thought you just meant have
sex!”
Christian frowned and looked at
the plastic black floor.
“So… no chains, no whippings?”
Anastasia shrugged.
“No, not really. Sorry.”
“Nipple clamps?”
“Not really into the kink thing
at all, to be honest.”
“Really?”
“I’m not judgey or whatever, but
it’s… just not me.”
“How do you know if you’ve never
tried it?”
“How do you know you don’t like,
I don’t know, eating poo if you’ve never tried it?”
“I have! It was exciting, transgressive, the taboo made
it all the more-”
“Okay, maybe bad example. All I’m saying is, you’ve got the wrong
girl. This isn’t me.”
“You’re certain.”
“I am. I’m so sorry.”
“Dammit. I was really looking forward to pissing in
your mouth.”
Anastasia made an involuntary
face.
“Sorry.”
“Maybe just a little trickle?”
“No. Sorry again about the misunderstanding.”
Christian sat on the
body-contoured fuckbench and put his head in his hands.
“I’m such an idiot.”
Anastasia put a hand on his
shoulder.
“You’re not an idiot at all. It’s a lovely room.”
“I just really thought we were, I
don’t know, on a wavelength.”
“We all make mistakes, it’s
okay.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I’m
actually just very vanilla, as far as sexuality goes.”
“I’ve ruined everything haven’t
I. Why do I always ruin everything?”
“No, no, you haven’t! You’re a lovely guy-”
“I really thought we had a
connection, Ana.”
Anastasia held his face in her
hands, leaned down, kissed him tenderly.
“We do,” she said, “we do. And there’s absolutely no shame in you having
your kinks, it’s all okay. You are who
you are, and I am who I am, you can’t expect all our interests to cross over
perfectly.”
“I like Frank Sinatra, you like
Coldplay.”
“Exactly!”
Anastasia held his hand. Christian held it back.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go to
bed and snuggle.”
“Snuggle?”
“Yeah. You might like it.”
Christian smiled up at her.
“Okay,” he said.
This story was part of the Swinburne Microfiction Challenge 2017, a ten day series of 500 word stories written in 24 hours, given a certain prompt word. The word for this story was "Play".
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