Nikki, kink and country matters

I’m delighted to welcome Nikki Magennis as my guest on day 15 of the Bound by Lust blog tour.

Nikki’s contribution to Shanna’s anthology is a beautiful, delicate story, Life Lines, which perfectly captures both the exhilaration and peacefulness of dawn and dramatic landscapes. It also taught me a fabulous new word: coory.

Here’s Nikki:

The story in Life Lines is kind of accidental and sideways. It wasn’t what I meant to write. First, I wrote a story called ‘Bearers’, about a man whose mother is dying. He falls in love with the woman who nurses him. I wrote out their first few meetings, a bondage scene, them falling in love.

And then I felt the need for fresh air. I wanted to see the characters stripped – removed, dislocated from their backstory (although of course they’d carry it with them). I made them walk up a hill, at the crack of dawn. Not until they’ve got the top, slipped on the shale, looked at the stark kaleidoscope of the landscape and scrambled halfway down do they stop to have sex. In fact, I didn’t want to put sex in at all. I wanted to write an erotic romance with no mention of sex or love.

But that seemed likely to disappoint the reader, so the characters got their kicks in the end – bent over and muddy on the hill path. And in case there wasn’t enough kink in the story, here’s an outtake from the original, wherein the characters get it on with bondage included.

*

She opened a drawer and pulled out some balled up tights, black nylon. Held them out to me in her fist.

‘Do it,’ she said, raising her brows. ‘Tie me down.’

‘To what?’

‘I don’t care. So long as it’s not a moving car.’

I caught her wrist.

‘Listen. I’ll tie you to the bed and maybe slap you a little. If you don’t like it, say stop. Okay?’

‘Is that a safe word? Stop? Seems pretty … obvious.’

‘Works for me.’

I kept her wrist. Wrapping the leg of a nylon round it, I anchored it to the bedpost. Her second wrist, I stretched her arm straight and tied the nylon like a cuff. Her left ankle, I held her more firmly, tugged at her a little to get her in position. By the time she was spreadeagled, I was hard again and ready to go.

I still had a pair of tights in my hand, weightless, soft and black. I pulled them taut between my hands, lifted them so she could see what I was doing – winding them around my fists and stretching until I had a strong rope.

I brought it down. Lowered it gently, covered her breasts like a bandeau. I pressed down, my hands either side of her, binding her tightly. Under the nylon her breasts spilled over, and I began squeezing those beautiful tits. Hard. Until she gasped. I bit the nipples and moved down, dragging at her skin, roughing it a little, pulling the nylon over her curves and hollows.

She was whimpering and I liked that a lot. I stopped and rested the fabric band on her hips, so that it cut over her pubic bone, just at the top of the rust-brown curls of her hair. Now the tights were bisecting her body, and her bottom half was bucking up towards me.

‘Please,’ she said. ‘Oh god, I want you to lick me.’

‘It’s not up to you,’ I said, quietly.

*

Nikki Magennis’ home on the internet is here: nikkimagennis.com

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