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Captured Fancy

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Captured Fancy by Alexander Kelly

By the author of the best-selling erotic novel, The Property

Garrett Hawk can tie up women with the best of them. His skills as a bondage rigger are almost legendary and keep him in almost constant demand by beautiful models, artistic photographers and as a top Dominant in the SM scene. But when a session goes horribly wrong Hawk is blamed and blackballed by the controlling female, Stockard Cuvier.

Forced to eke out a living as a private investigator, Hawk is given a chance to clear his name. He's sought out by a wealthy master, Vogal Wingard, to find Simone Jones, his missing slave. Oddly enough, Simone had just hired Garrett to 'kidnap' her, as part of her personal fantasy. But now, no one can find her, and Garrett fears he's been set-up once again.

Garrett learns that Simone is also known as 'Fancy', a well-known bondage model, previously working in Mistress Irena's Realm, a B&D Parlor. In order to find Simone, Garrett insinuates himself into Irena's world, and shows his deft skill in training Irena's girls for an upcoming bdsm event. In the process he discovers that Irena's Realm is enmeshed in a complicated financial battle between Wingard, Stockard, and Irena. Meanwhile his own troubles are complicated by his growing interest in the bondage model, Carmen, who has her own need to find Simone. The manipulative players in this suspenseful drama are destined for a confrontation that will rock their delicate balance of power and turn their worlds on end.

A fast paced SM tale that contains, tight rope bondage, suspension, ponygirl play, interrogations, and a glimpse into the world of bondage modeling told in the style of a hard-boiled detective mystery.

Quick review: This tale is a hard one to describe because it has so many plot twists, but don't let that make you shy away. This is a HOT BDSM book, a very steamy read. Once you're on the rollercoaster ride, you won't want to get off until you've turned the last page. The story is filled with deliciously written Dominant submissive scenes and erotic S&M that's sure to get the juices flowing! Lani Monroe 2007.

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My old army ranger training took over and I flattened behind the tree. There she was, sipping what looked like a glass of milk, most likely warm to help her get past any jitters and let her sleep, while her eyes swept first away, then toward me. I held my breath, sure that despite the night and my dark clothes she saw me. But her head turned past me as she sauntered around, barefoot, in a short, loose pink silk bathrobe, her long hair all about her shoulders. She seemed softer now than at my office, less removed and cold while she stood there in the night, ready to take a leap that maybe she wasn’t too sure about anymore. Vulnerable and fragile.
I could have rushed her then, snuck up behind and grabbed her, but that wasn’t my plan. Through roundabout questioning that day in my office I determined she usually read in bed before lights out. Also, I implied that once she was upstairs each night I wouldn’t be coming and she would have to wait until at least another night, but of course, that was a lie. Taking her in the bedroom after she was asleep was the best time. After a few minutes of her strolling about, I think I caught something of a sigh from Simone; she drained the last of her drink then went back inside. The sliding door scraped shut with a definite click. Nope, she probably thought, not tonight. This was her third night up here and her insides were most likely twisted in nervous knots. Moments later a dim light snapped on upstairs, but that also went out soon enough. I waited another hour, long enough for her to fall asleep and checked my kit one last time. Then I froze. Maybe it was nerves and the fact I hadn’t done this in such a long time that I was afraid I had lost my edge. But then an owl hooted, right above me, and its night call spurred me into action.
The bottom of the upper deck was ten feet high and, from a crouch, I managed to jump up and grab the lower part of the guardrail that ran across the edge. I thanked myself again for staying in shape as I swung my legs like a pendulum and landed my sneakers on the ledge. Stretched out, hanging by my finger and toenails, I managed to grip the balusters and pull myself up and over the handrail. Down in a crouch, I scurried to the deck door. Picking the lock was simple.
A tiny night light in an adjoining bathroom cast a pale glow across the foot of the bed and faded to black just below her shoulders. She lay on her side, facing away from the light, one arm crooked on top of a white coverlet that rose and fell in time with her even breaths. From what little I could see, her face was warm and serene, a definite change from the cold, almost angry attitude at my office. If I hadn’t known better, I’d say she had undergone a major change. I had seen such changes before; in slaves who flew in subspace, that sweet spot of heightened consciousness, and in some unjaded models who didn’t understand what was happening to them, but never before on a woman without a rope on her, much less asleep.
I shook my head and got back to work. I reached inside my satchel and found the wadding for her mouth. I stepped forward on the wooden floor...and the board creaked. Loudly.
She stirred, rolled onto her back. Her eyes opened to slits, then on seeing me flew wide. The mouth opened too, ready to scream.
I jumped the remaining distance, sprawled on top of her and shoved the wadding in the mouth. Her eyes bulged and she whimpered in the back of her throat. Then, in a sudden fury she tried to push me off but I squatted on top, above her waist and used my legs to pin her arms at her sides. But she still fought.
I grabbed her throat. “Hold still,” I rasped.
She twisted out of my grip. Her eyes blazed. This wasn’t going well. I needed to assert control, so I grabbed a bunch of her hair and wrenched her face back to me.
I raised my hand and bluffed that I would give her a good backhand across the chin. She got the message and went very still. I had never struck a woman like that before, but if necessary she had given me the green light back in my office.
“Do what you need to do,” she had said. “Make it feel real.”
“And how far is that?” I asked.
“I won’t go quietly. Go as far as you’d like.” Her hand slid inside her skirt and back up between her legs. “Whatever feels natural.”
Simone Jones had paid for a kidnapping and she was going to get her money’s worth and, I suddenly decided, a little bonus. Something natural.
I worked fast. I pulled down the covers, flipped her over to her stomach and wound rope around the side by side wrists, then looped the end of it between them to cinch the whole thing down. I treated her elbows the same way until they nearly touched, then flipped her back around on her arms. Her hair fell across her face while her eyes bulged once more, a close match to her breasts that fairly strained to bust out from her nightie. One hand still in her hair I used my teeth to pull off a glove and slid my bare hand down between her legs.
Holy shit, was she wet! A virtual river! Her silk panties were soaked. I ripped them off, waved them under her nose, then shoved them deep in her mouth under the first wadding, right on the tongue so she could taste them. They weren’t enough so I forced more wadding inside, and then more until the cheeks ballooned while I wrapped dark red gauze around her head. Then I ripped the nightie apart and those ripe, full breasts pointed right up at me. I dove down to bite, lick, and suck those delicious mounds. Her moans filled the room, one of pleasure mixed with pain and I knew I had her. I took off my other glove, unzipped my pants and my cock sprang out, full and erect, its purple head engorged. I pushed her shapely, strong legs aside and speared her.

Artist Credit

© Ludovic Goubet www.ludovicgoubet.com

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Product Reviews

  1. Posted by Unknown on 23rd Apr 2010

    Captured Fancy by Alexander Kelly
    Reviewed by Tobias Tanner

    An ex-Army Ranger named Hawk, once the crown prince of bondage choreography, a high priced rigger and a much sought after professional dominant, has lost it all. Worse yet, he's had it taken away—with deliberate efficiency. Two years later, he is working the sleazy side of divorce cases as a private detective, and not a very good one at that, because, if he was, then maybe he'd have been paying more attention. Instead, he lets himself get suckered, and sucker punched into the bargain, and after that, our Mr. Hawk ain't happy, not even a little bit.

    Think what might happen if Robert Parker met Lizbeth Dusseau. We'd get a private dick with plenty of history, and we'd get kinky sex about three pages out of five. Well, guess what? That's exactly what we find in Captured Fancy. Betrayal and revenge, double-dealing (in more ways than one), and good, old-fashioned back stabbing, are all served up with unabashed enthusiasm. There are all kinds of bitches and bastards and masters and slaves to deal with, and every one of them seems to have an agenda that includes some way to clip Hawk's wings. But he's not having any. Hawk has been there and done that, and he isn't going back.

    Our hero is set up as a patsy from the first, and it takes a while for him to get that turned around to his advantage. In the meantime, there is plenty of good stuff to do. He is more than a little irritated at being played the fool, and finds any number of ways to work through his anger, mostly with one woman or another on her knees or dangling from ropes. However, he has to rein in that anger, or at least to channel it, and he certainly knows how to do that. He is, after all, a professional. In the end, it's all about the money, of course. And just who do you think ends up with it? I'm not telling, except to say that it was a fun and satisfying conclusion. I think you will agree.

    This is BDSM at its best, but, be advised; it rewards those who pay attention. You see, Kelly's novel is not just about who screws, it's about who gets screwed, and I don't necessarily mean that in the biblical sense. Payback may not be the most acceptable form of negotiation in our stiff-necked, politically correct world, but it works for Hawk, and I'm betting it will work for the discerning reader, as well. Enjoy.

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