Working It Out

by Teri Trojan

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

A novel with themes including BDSM, fem dom, fem sub and wrestling fetish Inspired by seeing a television programme about wrestling, Shoanna decides she'd like some of it. She meets Andreas who it seems, has all things available to him, including a gym and someone to train her. She loves sex with Andreas, and soon learns he has tastes for doing things to excite and punish her. He has a vast collection of fetish gear for her to try out and endless money to fund it all. Has she fallen on her feet? You can bet she has. But will she stay on course? And for how long?

Release date: February 28, 2013

Publisher: Accent Press

Print pages: 154

Sample

Chapter One

‘I’m giving up sex,’ Shoanna said gloomily. ‘It’s over-rated, too time-consuming and too bloody painful when you don’t get what you want.’

‘Who finished with who this time?’ her flatmate, Tara, asked.

‘Tonio. Me. No, him. Oh, I don’t know. I caught him with someone else and called his bluff. I walked out. He didn’t follow. He didn’t try to stop me. So, no more sex.’

‘Give up sex? You couldn’t last more than 24 hours without it!’

‘Is that a challenge?’ Shoanna brightened up at once. ‘How much do you bet?’

‘Make it 48 hours and you’re on for 50 quid.’

‘Barely a couple of decent bottles of champagne. Not sure if it’s worth it.’

‘That includes self-pleasuring. of course.’

A flicker crossed Shoanna’s beautiful face. ‘You’ve got prissy, haven’t you? Self-pleasuring? Why not say what you mean.’

‘Masturbation. Jacking off. Finger-fucking. Whatever you like. I still bet you couldn’t last out.’

‘And exactly how will you know?’ Shoanna asked. ‘About the self-pleasuring bit? Unless you sleep in the same bed and that would mean we both would be missing out. I can’t see you lasting without for that long either.’

It was Tara’s turn to frown.

Within the next five minutes, the two girls had developed the tiny seed of suggestion into a full blown challenge. The stakes had risen to £200 for the one who could last out the longest without any form of physical stimulation. For Shoanna, it looked like the ideal way to get over Tonio. He was a total bastard, she had finally realised. Her friends had been telling her to dump him for weeks but his sleek, well-honed body and undoubtedly spectacular cock had been all too alluring. His Italian looks and charm had made him quite irresistible. She sighed, trying to recall, in all the dozens of times they’d had sex, the number of times he had even bothered about her needs. He was too selfish. So many times she had longed for his prick deep inside her; wanting it to fill her so much that she thought he would push right through her. But it happened all too rarely. Mostly, it was a case of Tony being easily and quickly satisfied while she was left hungry. Yes, finishing with him was the best thing she could have done. But it did leave her even more on the lookout for someone special.

‘So, our challenge begins in the morning,’ Tara said.

‘What’s wrong with tonight?’

‘I’m just about to go out. A very tasty date. Can’t be helped, and besides, I want something to last me for at least the next two days. Nothing to stop you going out as well. Check out Stacey’s. The music is good, if nothing else.’

Shoanna was not in the mood. If she was going to win herself a much needed two hundred quid, she wanted to get on with it. She shook her head and Tara gave a slow smile.

‘OK. As you like. But there’s no way I’m missing out tonight. Two hours from now, and I plan to be totally screwed senseless.’ In a cloud of expensive perfume, which covered her marginally more than the skimpy silk outfit she wore, she left, slamming the front door with a finality that made Shoanna feel even more alone.

Shoanna went into her room and pulled off her clothes. She glanced into the full- length mirror. Was that a trace of flab around her usually taut belly? She pulled on a fresh pair of panties and a T-shirt and went into the living room. She picked up her dumbbells. She worked herself hard for 20 minutes until she was covered in a sheen of perspiration over her entire body. No way was she going to allow herself any hint of excess weight. She was proud of her body and always tried to keep at the peak of fitness. Her legs were long, strong and well-shaped. She delighted in wearing the shortest skirts, enjoying the appreciative looks from her male colleagues. She knew that several of them positively lusted after her, but she had vowed never to mix work and pleasure. She knew there was a book running between the males, and that the one who made it with her stood to win a sizeable amount of money. It amused her to keep them all dangling.

After a shower, Shoanna slipped into a silk kimono and lay back on the fur-covered sofa. She sipped a glass of chilled wine and flicked on the TV. She channel-hopped for a while but could find nothing to interest her. She closed her eyes. The tiny throb of desire she had felt after exercising was turning into a veritable chasm of need. She parted her legs and pushed a finger into her folds to find the already enlarging bud of her clit. She touched it tenderly and scratched it gently with a long fingernail. The gentle probing became more insistent and she was soon rubbing herself faster and faster until, at last, her orgasm ripped through her. It relieved some of her longing but, all too soon, the feeling wore off. She knew that only the touch of another human being could bring the total satisfaction she needed. She opened her eyes again. Nine-thirty. The television was burbling away and she picked up the remote to turn it off. She paused. Accidentally, she had tuned into a satellite channel and a sports programme. Two women were wrestling and the camera picked up the expressions on the faces of the men surrounding the ring. The situation appealed to her. To perform in a ring, surrounded by men who were so openly lusting after her, was a huge turn-on.

The two girls were wearing tightly fitting Lycra body suits. White laced wrestling boots clung to slim ankles, surprisingly feminine, despite their practical purpose. Their suits were identical. High cut at the legs and with a deep scooped neckline, little was left to the imagination. Shoanna imagined herself wearing such a garment. Her generous breasts would be constrained by the tight fabric and every movement would bring a delicious, tormenting friction to her nipples. Beneath the thin silk of her robe, she could already feel them hardening, and the delicate fabric caressed their tender nub. She watched the girls as they moved gracefully round the ring, making small, darting movements to catch each other off balance. They seized each other and one tossed the other over her shoulder, so that she landed on the floor. Immediately, the second girl fell across her body, clamping it to the ground. The audience cheered; the referee counted with his head almost flat on the ground. He raised the arm of the victor and the defeated girl sprang lightly to her feet.

‘This time,’ she hissed into the camera. ‘But I shall be back. My turn next time. I shall have you, Cindi.’ She darted towards the other girl and clipped her with the back of her hand. Cindi retaliated.

‘Always were a bad loser, weren’t you, Magda?’

She ducked as Magda grabbed her and clasped her round the waist. Magda fell and, quick as a flash, Cindi’s legs were entwined around her opponent’s and she was sitting on the girl’s stomach, holding her down in a vice-like grip. The men watching were positively drooling over the display. Some were openly clutching at their crotches.

Shoanna watched in fascination. There was nothing demeaning about what these women were doing. She had watched women stripping in various nightclubs, shedding their clothes and writhing to please an audience. Though the entertainment was supposed to appeal to both sexes, she usually found it less than pleasant. But these women were attractive. They fought like tigresses. Whether this fight was rigged or not, it made no difference to the audience. The women were strong and fit, bodies honed to perfection, and each gave the impression of being keen to win.

‘My God. What is it with me?’ Shoanna said aloud. ‘Tara’s stupid challenge hasn’t even started yet and here I am, drooling over some TV programme.’ Maybe she was turned on by watching two women, engaged in close physical contact? No, in no way could she be gay. She enjoyed sex with men far too much for that. Of course, she realised, it had to be the effect the two women had on their male audience that she liked. It was positively thrilling. Shoanna knew that, after this, she needed to do something with the rest of the evening. Tara had been right. She couldn’t last for any time at all without sex. She decided, after all, to check out the action at Stacey’s.

She brushed her dark hair and pulled it into a tight knot on top of her head. She sprayed her body with a light fragrance before pulling on a silver, slip-style dress. She clasped huge silver hoops to her ears and applied her favourite make-up. She coated her eyelids with a smoky eye shadow, which emphasised the spectacular silver grey of her large eyes. Bare-legged, she stepped into gunmetal grey stilettos and left the flat. Tara was most unlikely to return before dawn, so she had plenty of time before their ridiculous challenge was to begin. With any luck, she could get her needs satisfied, with hours to spare. The car she shared with Tara was parked in the street outside and though it meant she needed to be careful about drinking, she decided there was little option but to drive to the other side of town. Stacey’s nightclub was at least four miles from the flat and taxis were virtually unavailable, unless you booked in advance. Maybe she should move to London. Even if the work situation was not as good, at least the night life was much more accessible.

She parked the car on a small, derelict patch of land, a couple of streets away from the club. It was dark but she felt no fear. She knew the area as well as she knew her own body and it simply did not occur to her to worry. She grabbed her small shoulder bag and stowed her keys. Taking tiny steps to allow for her excessively high heels, she crossed the road towards her destination. She smiled to herself as she remembered the wrestling she’d watched. She imagined herself clad in the tightly fitting Lycra suit, wearing tight silk stockings beneath it. Or leather. Yes, she liked the idea of leather. She could have a very tightly laced top which would pull in her waist in a dramatic way. Her generous breasts would be squashed together to form a deep cleavage, revealed by the low cut of her top. If she really wanted to try this seriously, she could wear a silk hood to disguise herself. She would have eye holes and a hole to reveal her mouth, which she would always cover with the brightest red lipstick. She opened her mouth, flicking a moist tongue over her lips. Yes, it was definitely tempting. Maybe someone at the gym might know of a contact. But she could tell no one, not even – especially not – Tara. She would never understand.

So deeply engrossed was she with her thoughts that she did not notice the trio of men watching her progress along the deserted street.

‘Nice arse,’ was the first thing she heard. She swung round and faced the leering group. She was not averse to sex with strangers, or more than one man at a time, but always it had to be on her own terms. Undoubtedly, this was what they had in mind. As they approached her from behind, she could almost hear their panting breath, no doubt in anticipation of what they expected to be an easy take. She waited until she was certain they were close, then swung round and jabbed one of them hard in the groin with her heel.

‘Bitch,’ he yelled in agony, as he collapsed to the ground. He rolled into a ball, clutching his wounded manhood and moaning.

‘Next,’ she challenged, bending forward, her legs slightly parted for balance.

The second made a hesitant approach but, instead, turned to his fallen mate and shook his head. The third man was taller than the others. He nodded to the pair, indicating they should disappear. He smiled at her, taunting her into reacting. She knew she had to fight or face her own humiliation. The man was dressed in a sleek dark leather jacket and light-coloured trousers that looked as if they had been sprayed on. He was beautiful. Dark hair, as black as Tonio’s, and a body that looked as if it was very well kept.

Shoanna bent her knees slightly in preparation for the expected attack. He made a play for her, a gentle smile curling round the corners of a more than usually sensual mouth. For a brief, crazy moment, she thought of letting him take what he so obviously wanted. He was gorgeous. Her eyes dropped to his crotch and she saw he was already straining against the fabric of his pants. He noticed her gaze and smiled again. He licked his lips with a lazy tongue and made small, beckoning gestures with his fingers. His companions had disappeared. He was the obvious leader and they had become aware of a different sort of drama unfolding. They knew it was best to leave him to it or suffer his anger later.

Whatever she might be prepared to do with a man, she had her own rules. She did the picking up, when she wanted to. She wanted to see him in proper surroundings, not give in to some opportunist ready to force himself on her in a side street.

‘Move out of my way,’ Shoanna demanded, afraid that she might weaken and give in to him.

‘But of course.’ He stepped aside. ‘I never intended any harm to you. My, er, companions are crude youths. They have no finesse; no sense of right or wrong.’

‘But you would have let them do whatever they wanted to me. You looked as if you intended joining in.’

‘Not me. Besides, I saw what you did to Michael. You’re quite a scary lady. I should have to think hard before I was entangled with you.’

Somehow, she was unsure whether to believe him or not. He had a constant smile lurking at the corner of his mouth, that sensual mouth. Shoanna wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him, to be teased and fucked by him. She began to move away but he stood in her way.

‘Excuse me. Sorry, I thought you weren’t interested in me. That you showed more finesse than your uncouth companions.’ Her voice was hard and cynical, her attempt to cover the true feelings and urges that were sweeping through her body. Damn him. She was growing hot for him. He was much taller than she was and looked as though he was very fit. If he did decide to make a move on her, she might be powerless to stop him. She moved once more towards him, ready to defend herself. Move in quickly, she remembered. Catch him off guard. Her father had insisted she took a self-defence course years ago and, occasionally, she had been glad of it. He held out a h. . .