You’re not supposed to play when you’re angry. You’re not supposed to let the bottom goad you into anything they want more than you. You’re not supposed to lose control, ever, because you are responsible for the scene, responsible for everything that happens therein.
Except, of course, that all of us do that, at some point. We play in all sorts of emotional states. The bottom can turn around and stick out their tongue and lemme tellya, you are goaded. And you will find yourself, at times, a sweaty, breathless mess of aching muscle and sore hands watching your bottom tremble and smile fearfully at you through the tears, and you’ll wonder Good lord, did I really do that?
Those are the best times.
Jax Baynard must have been on one end or the other of them at least once, because damn, the story Meltdown touches on all those themes. It is a transgressive story, and unlike many bondage erotica it is more transgressive the more you know about kink, about pro doms, about sex work. It is a fantasy, and even as my own sense of right and wrong was cringing at parts (“No! Don’t do that!“) there was a part of me that reveled in the romanticism of not the way things are, but the way we wish things could be.
For a change, the details – “…a twelve-strand plaited Australian stock whip made of kangaroo hide…”, for example – really added a dimension of reality. That’s an expensive piece of equipment, let me tell you, and the inclusion of it said more about the character of the main character than any long-winded description of LaBoutins and Hervé dresses could have. The protagonists were both supremely idealistic in their abilities to take and inflict pain and also desperately, vulnerably human. It’s a hot, short slice of whip-crack love, and a great addition to this collection edited by Alison Tyler.
Personally, I can’t wait for more…