A Valentines Day Excerpt from Shocking Violet

I thought I would post an excerpt from Shocking Violet, my kinky queer polyamorous romance novel WIP, for Valentine’s Day, as a present for you. It’s been over a year since I posted one, and I am nearing the finish line in my first draft.

This is from Jax and Violet’s second date. Jax is a Jewish autistic fat disabled trans stone butch with PTSD. Violet is a Jewish autistic fat chronically ill high femme queer cis woman with PTSD. They are both polyamorous, and have met recently. If you want to read an earlier excerpt from their second date, it is here. Links to other excerpts from Shocking Violet are all collected here.

This excerpt shows Jax and Violet’s first D/s scene. It also shows some things I rarely see in BDSM romance: beginning with BDSM play where sex is off the table, a dominant checking in with himself before play to be sure he is up for it, a survivor making it clear she doesn’t want her partner to try to fix her trauma, survivors talking openly about the risk of being triggered by play, an autistic submissive going non-verbal during play.

Before Jax and Violet play, they dance to this song, one of my favorites by Leonard Cohen.

I hope you enjoy this excerpt; it is dear to my heart.

(As a heads up, the excerpt includes: D/s, boot play, a submissive pushing her personal edges, an autistic trauma survivor going non-verbal during BDSM play, references to being a trauma survivor and getting triggered.)

****

Jax

Jax ran his hands under cold water, splashed some on his face, and took slow breaths as he pictured his stone dragon self: his powerful jaw, wings that could raise a hurricane, claws like daggers, fire in his belly, armored everywhere. He checked in with himself. He was ready. He wanted to play with Violet tonight. So he took the time to clean his boots. Not a thorough cleaning, but given the snow tonight, he needed to tend to them before playing. As he did, he thought about the scene ahead.

Jax knew that he wanted to start slow, and was feeling very certain in this moment that he wanted to take sex off the table for tonight. Partly to let D/s be the center. And partly because sex was always edgy for him as a stone butch, especially the first time with a new partner. He wanted to move from a place of comfort and certainty right now, so he could hold the fact that she was pushing her edges even contemplating this. That meant starting small and slow and staying in his comfort zone.

He breathed in, slow and even, thinking about what he wanted, how to get there. Then he made his way back into Violet’s bedroom. She was lying on her bed, shoes off, and Leonard Cohen’s voice was filling the room. Damn, she liked Leonard Cohen too? This song was one of Jax’s favorites, partly because it sounded so much like klezmer. Jax offered his hand to her, and she took it, so he drew her up to stand, and pulled her into a slow dance. Her breath on his neck was mesmerizing. She felt so good in his arms, swaying next to him, just a bit shorter than usual because she wasn’t wearing heels. He took a chance, and twirled her. Her laugh was glorious, mixing with the violin in this swirling almost dizzying beauty. Then the song ended, and she turned the music off, saying “You know, I have a tattoo based on that song.”

“Oh do you? Show me.”

She sat on the bed and lifted first one ankle, then the other, to show him the words wrapping round them: “Dance me through the panic/Till I’m gathered safely in.” He asked with his eyes, and she nodded, so he traced the words, his fingertips savoring every letter.

“That’s beautiful, Violet,” he said hoarsely.

“Thank you. It’s a good reminder for me, that what I want is a companion while I deal with my trauma, not someone to fix it or make it go away. Someone that I trust enough to dance through it with me, and not try to control it, just be present.”

“That’s an important thing to remember. Thank you for telling me that.”

“It felt important to say. Especially if we are going to try D/s. That is certain to stir up my trauma, eventually.”

“Honestly, Violet, it may stir up mine, as well. That’s part of the risk of two trauma survivors trying something new and potentially triggering together. And why I want to start slow and small.”

“Slow and small sounds perfect.”

****

Violet

“So my thought was to try that ritual we discussed to begin and end play, where you put on my boots and kiss them at the beginning, and then kiss them, and take them off, at the end. And that we might do a bit of boot play.” Jax’s voice was husky as he spoke, and it wrapped around Violet’s throat.

“Mmmm.” she nodded.

“Are you ok being on the floor, while I sit in that chair?” He was pointing to her reading chair, which definitely was the most comfortable chair in the room.

She nodded, and walked over to it, gesturing to the back pillows she kept in a basket next to it, in case he needed them. He looked through them selecting one for himself. Then he sat, removed his boots, and carefully placed one of the pillows on the floor for her, placing it in front of the boots. Oh. Oh my.

“Once we are in scene, Violet, I want you to address me as Sir. I’m going to keep using your name, like we discussed when we negotiated. Alright?”

Violet nodded. She wasn’t sure she could make words right now. They had talked about that maybe happening, and what her hand signal would be to stop the scene.

“We can play with pain, at some later point, and with sex, but right now, I thought we would just stick to D/s. Keep it simple. That ok?”

She nodded. That sounded perfect.

“It’s time, Violet. Shall we begin?”

Her heart was pounding. Her gaze was focused on the pillow on the floor in front of his boots. He had chosen the flat wide purple one. It was her favorite. How had he known that? He probably didn’t, though he did know purple was her favorite color. Okay, she was supposed to move now. To sit, or kneel on the pillow. Which was she supposed to do? Her gaze rose to his, frantic. She didn’t want to mess this up.

“You have a question, don’t you? Something I didn’t make clear in my instructions.”

Violet nodded slightly.

“You know, Violet…if the dominant doesn’t give clear instructions, it’s not the submissive’s fault that they are unsure of how to follow them.”

Violet felt her eyes going wider, because that somehow felt very much like new information.

“It’s my error, Violet. In not being clear. Because it’s my responsibility to be clear with you about how to please me. Otherwise I am setting you up to fail, and that makes us both miserable.”

His voice was so calm, like he was absolutely certain both that this was true and that admitting an error was part of the way it was done. Violet wasn’t sure how to process that, but it did make her body relax. If he could make errors, maybe she could, too. And it could still be okay.

“Ah I figured it out. I didn’t tell you how to use that pillow. And how could you know what position I wanted you in? That is easily remedied. As you put on my boots, sit with your ass on that pillow, if that position works for you. Put your legs however they will be comfortable. If any position I ask you to do will harm you, I need to know that, because I don’t want to do that.”

Violet nodded. Okay. She knew what to do now. She could do this. She took a slow breath, then sat on the pillow, which was thankfully actually wide enough for her rather sizable ass to rest on it comfortably. She adjusted until she was in a stable position and could use her hands.

“Good,” he said, and that word curled around her heart.

She focused on his boots. They were Corcorans, and they were still laced. How had he gotten them off? Oh, there was a zipper on the side. Okay. She picked up the right boot, and slid it partway onto his foot, before placing the sole of the boot on her chest, so he would have leverage to work his foot the rest of the way in. Had he groaned when she had done that? That seemed like a good thing. His boot felt amazing there, she got lost in the feel of it for a moment. Oh, right. She slowly drew the zipper up, then snapped the top part. Okay, done with that one. She let go, and waited.

As far as Violet was concerned, it was just fine for Jax to keep the sole of his boot on her chest for as long as he wanted. He pressed into her chest a bit, and she breathed into the glorious feel of the treads digging into her. Then he placed his foot on her thigh. Oh. That was good. She reached for the other boot with more certainty, and slid it onto his left foot, placing the sole on her chest and listening for that groan. Oh yes, it seemed even louder this time. He worked his foot into the boot with a bit more force, digging the treads in just a bit, and then she was zipping it up, breath held, and the snaps, and then she closed her eyes, her hands going to the floor, as he left his boot on her chest for a good long minute, pressing into her decidedly. With her eyes closed, she could hear that his breathing was a bit ragged, and the smell of the leather was stronger. This was already so good. He moved the sole of the boot to her thigh, and she sighed happily. Then his hand was stroking her cheek. Oh yes. She savored this electric heat, this circuit moving between them. It was glorious.

When he sat back, and she was bereft of his hand, and then his boots planted on the floor, she realized that there was another piece to the ritual they had planned. She moved back to lay on her belly for this part, which she’d dreamed about doing the night after she had met Jax. It had been this intense moment, in her dream. She would bring all that reverence now. The toe of his boot was surprisingly cool under her lips, which were trembling, as she placed a gentle kiss. His hand stroked her hair, softly. Now the other boot. Her whole body was trembling as she pressed her lips against the toe. His hand held her there for a moment, before lifting.

“Violet, find a position on the floor where you can lie down comfortably and look at my boots. Feel free to get more pillows if you need them.”

Violet grabbed her body pillow from the bed and lay back down on the floor on her side, her head on the purple pillow, which felt so soft against her cheek. She wriggled a bit to find a position that felt ok, then settled into it, raising her head to look at Jax. He was smiling down at her.

“As you lie there and look at my boots, I want you to repeat something to yourself. You can say it aloud, or inside your head. Just keep repeating this: ‘I am focused on Sir’s boots.’ I just want you to look, and say that to yourself. Don’t touch unless I invite you to.”

Violet nodded. She could do that. She hadn’t been using Sir in her head, so far. This would give her a way to start.

“And Violet? While you are looking at my boots, I am going to be looking at you, laying at my feet.”

A shiver went down her spine. Oh my. Just looking at Sir’s boots was an intense thing. Being under his gaze at the same time, minutely aware of him looking down at her, at his feet…whoa. She hugged her pillow close as she began.

I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots.

And she did, noting the shine on the toe cap and where it picked up the light, the scuff on the side of the left one, the duller gleam on the shaft.

I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots.

She thought about what Sir’s boots had smelled like when she had kissed them. What the treads had felt like on her chest. She imagined what the leather might feel like under her tongue, what it would taste like, how Sir would respond to her tonguing his boots.

I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots.

She thought about resting her cheek on Sir’s boots, curling herself around them, after a scene, or in a quiet moment during one. Oh, she ached to do that. To feel Sir rest one boot on her thigh as she curled around the other one.

I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots.

Sir’s boots were so beautiful. The gleam of them. The way they suited him down to the ground. The sharpness of the treads. She wanted that sharpness on her skin, wanted to be naked under Sir’s boots, feeling the glory of them burst pain through her like a perfect gift of dominion.

I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots.

That sentence was burned into her by now. Even if she never said it aloud, it would resound over and over in her head and she would be right back here, focused on his boots, his gaze roaming her body. He was looking at her at his feet, watching her think about his boots, watching her desire for his boots grow in the garden of her mind.

I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots.

Violet thought about what Sir’s boots felt like, what it would be like to stroke the leather with her hands, to give him the kind of bootlust inspired foot massage only she could give. Would he want that? Would it please him? Was she pleasing him now?

I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots.

She was thinking it over and over and she knew he had said that was enough. But what would it be like to hear it in her own voice? She clutched the pillow, holding that thought close for a long time.

I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots. I am focused on Sir’s boots.

Her lips formed the words, silently, and Sir groaned. He was watching her. He was pleased to see her lips shaping those words that he gave her. She didn’t think she could speak them and she knew he didn’t need them said aloud. It was okay not to say them. She made her lips exaggerate at they formed the words, and was gratified by another groan from him.

“Come closer, Violet. Rest your cheek on my boot.”

Yes. Oh yes. The leather was gloriously cool and smooth against her cheek, and his other boot pressed into her thigh like a dream. Her mouth formed the words against the leather. His hand stroked through her hair gently. They savored the moment together. It was so perfect, and so intense, that tears came, falling on the leather.

“Yes,” Sir said, low and growly. Violet smiled at that. She had pleased Sir. That was good. This wondrous gladness filled her heart. One more stroke of her hair, and then Sir’s hand lifted and he said, “It is time, Violet.”

So she kissed the boot she had been laying on, then wriggled free to kiss the other one. She placed the pillow in the spot, and sat on it, removing Sir’s boots slowly, savoring every touch, every bit of the sharpness pressing into her chest. He stroked her cheek then, and asked her to shift to her knees and lean into him, her arms around him in the chair. And he held her, gently stroking her hair, murmuring about how she had pleased him so much, and done so well, and he was so very proud of her. Violet held on, for what seemed like forever, not wanting to let go, as she trembled. She could not stop grinning.

 

 

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