Love was Dirty Words is the story of a married couple who have figured out how to stay connected as their lives get busier and fuller. They recognize that they speak different languages when it comes to love and have learned each other’s language fluently. It’s the story of a couple- very much in love- dealing with feelings of inadequacy and struggling to make their marriage their top priority.
Every fourth Saturday they have a standing date in their play room; a date that Ian plans in its entirety. His plans unfailingly include tying her to something and flogging her senseless. As Ellie takes blow after blow she can feel the power shift between them and knows the point at which she becomes the one in charge, handcuffs notwithstanding.
The following excerpt is taking from chapter two of Love was Dirty Words
On the wall to her left, behind the door, was Ian’s rack of floggers, paddles and single tail whips. When they found something they each liked, they invested the money in buying a quality piece. His collection had grown exponentially over the past four years and they now had multiple styles of each tool – different materials and tails, lengths and handle styles. The remaining wall was nearly empty but for a series of eye bolts and hooks, some of them hung with lengths of chain. The eyebolts were Ellie’s favorite part of the room. The memories they held were the most cherished. She knew that to some, the room would seem barbaric and terrifying, but just walking through the door made her pussy wet.
She walked straight to the satin pillow in the center of the floor. She twisted her hair up into a quick ponytail using the binder on her wrist and knelt down. She arranged herself on the pillow, clasping her hands behind her back. She sat back on her heels, flattening the tops of her feet against the floor, bowed her head and closed her eyes, relying on her other senses for forewarning.
Ian had turned the thermostat up, the air felt warm and thick with Ellie’s anticipation. Her pulse roared in her eyes as she strained to hear something, anything in the silent bedroom. The lack of noise ate at her. It ate at her nerves and it ate at her patience, making her squirm internally.
When the door creaked open her heart rate sped up. She smelled Ian’s cologne and her hands trembled. The jangling of the buckle on her collar lit her senses up, making her hyper aware of the cool slide of the leather as he wrapped it around her neck.
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