Catching Fire

Author's Foreword: This series has themes of romance, sex, friendship, humor, safe and consensual BDSM, and above all, intimacy and the concept of memory. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. I want you, reader, to come away with more empathy, appreciation, and joy for yourself and others than you began. As I did when writing this.

After the opening scene, the story goes further into Luke and Erin's exploration of consensual BDSM-themed play and associated feelings. If that isn't something you like to read about, please make your own decision about whether to continue reading past the beginning. If that is the case but you are otherwise enjoying the series as a romance, I would still recommend reading the aftercare/end scene for the sake of the story.

I sincerely appreciate your ratings, favoriting, follows, and constructive or kind feedback.

Let the play say the thing.

***

***Early Summer***

The shop's door blinged as Erin and I walked in. I picked up one of the dark blue shopping baskets and we began strolling through the aisles. It was a sprawling store, and filled wall-to-wall with everything you'd expect to find in a sex shop: toys, clothing, pornography, and generally furtive people. Erin was lively and playful as always, and she appreciatively ran her nails along my back as we browsed while ignoring everyone else.

She looked equally lovely and showoff-ish, as was her preference. She wore a summer sundress that only came down to her upper thigh, turmeric yellow with small blue flowers like forget-me-nots. The dress was just loose enough to let her toned body move pleasantly, just tight and short enough to draw a line under how lucky I was. I looked like myself, which is to say understated and a bit scruffy, but lean, clean, and alert. I always felt a little embarrassed that I wasn't able to match Erin better for style, but then again maybe she enjoyed the contrast.

"Ooh," she said, "I like this one." It was a stainless steel princess plug with a sparkly diamond-esque plastic jewel at the end.

"Seems right up your alley," I responded.

"Smartass," she muttered, smacking my arm. The plug went into the basket, along with a few similar things. We took our time, debating the merits of this and that before putting it back or taking it with us. There was no theme, just a collection of whatever seemed the most versatile and fun, whatever made us excited to try with each other. That and some decent, basic bondage gear.

Eventually, she wanted to go look at a few things on her own. I said I'd catch up with her and went off to find some reading material. A small shelf at the end of a long wall of pornography held some books that I was interested in. I ended up picking three: a collection of erotica I thought we might read to each other, a "moron's guide" to massage, and a primer on classical bondage and domination. Being in the deepest part of the store, there was a large mirror above me, and I reflexively glanced up at it when I heard the shop door bling to announce entry. Then I looked a second time.

"You gotta be kidding me," I said faintly.

Walking in was the core of what had been one of the larger and more infamous cliques at my old high school. While there had been about twenty of them, I was currently looking at the four guys and four girls that I'd had almost every class with from freshman through senior year.

It's not hard to describe or imagine the type. They were all considerably wealthier, more attractive, and bigger partiers than anyone else had been. Especially the girls. All eight had decent grades, were boisterous or overly clever in class without really getting into trouble, and were vaguely athletic if not actually on one of the varsity teams. They were social snobs and could be mean or cruel, but without the motivation to be dedicated bullies. And all of them had been sexually active all four years, or were purported to be. In short: "the popular kids." They had definitely not been my crowd, but thankfully they'd left me alone, even been nice to me once in a while. I'm still not sure why.

I felt a juvenile urge to panic, and I tried to wrestle it to the ground before it really got away from me. I shifted position so I was less visible from the store entrance. I could vaguely hear them joking and laughing. They quickly divided, the girls heading into the section Erin had wandered into, and the guys heading right towards my corner, naturally. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, I started making my way between scantily clad mannequins towards the checkout area.

Maybe we could pay and get out of there without incident, I thought. I heard a sudden exclamation from Erin a few aisles over that was echoed by the popular girls. It sounded like at least some of them knew Erin somehow, despite the different schools and class years.

Actually, I thought to myself as I ducked from nightie to nightie, this little distraction might work out. I could get to the register, pay for our stuff, and at least have it in a nondescript paper bag if everything went to hell. Besides, the guys would likely take a while to joke and ogle at the magazines and DVDs. Erin would probably walk off from the other girls soon, and I could flag her down from the exit. Yeah, this could work, I assured myself. No sweat. I finally got to the cash register with a glimmer of hope and set the full basket down on the counter.

The tall, bored cashier was about to ring things up when he stopped and stared at me strangely for a moment. His eyebrows knitted together. Something about him was ringing a bell for me, too. My eyes flicked to his name tag: "Rick." We both wondered a second longer, then simultaneously pointed at each other and said:

"Ninth grade science."

For a big city, it was one hell of a small town.

Before he'd transferred schools at the end of the first year, Rick and I had been assigned together as freshman lab partners. He'd been a gangly, pimply nerd with a bad haircut. Perfect target for mean teenagers, really. Not a whole lot had changed, it seemed, except now he was even taller and wore a baseball cap.

"Wow. Uh, how ya been?" I asked.

"Fine," he said vaguely, "Just... y'know... makin' some summer money." I looked at his name tag again. It said 'Assistant Manager,' so it was definitely more than a summer job.

"What the hell are you doing managing a sex shop, man?" I blurted. I felt bad as soon as I said it. He shrugged and sighed.

"Payin' bills and sellin' dreams to perverts," he said with a resigned smirk, "So what are you *doing* in a sex shop, Luke?"

"Wait... Luke?!" I heard a dangerously pleased voice say behind me. I looked in the mirror over Rick's head and saw the entire gaggle of popular ex-classmates gathering behind me in line.

"Havin' a nightmare," I muttered grimly. Only Rick heard my reply to him.

The big nerd's eyes widened. He remembered exactly who they were, and he flinched to pull his cap down lower over his face. In his panic, he accidentally knocked over my shopping basket, and the contents scattered lewdly across the entire glass countertop. Rick swore softly and kept his eyes down, his ears red as brake lights. There was a ripple of guffaws, gasps, and giggles from the others as they looked over my entire haul of depravity. One guy gave a whistle as the last few things tumbled out.

***

Come on, Luke, I thought, time to be brave. Use your brain. Plenty of time to panic later.

I glanced over my shoulder at them before turning fully around, keeping my head high and my expression calm and friendly. I reminded myself that I had been physically fit in high school and I was obviously even stronger now. I could tell that not all of the other guys had kept up the pace, so I crossed my arms to emphasize the fact. Some of the girls surreptitiously looked me up and down, eyeblink-quick but lingering almost imperceptibly on what they liked.

I quickly scanned what everyone was carrying: it seemed like a random collection of smut, joke gifts, cutesy or ludicrous sex toys, and similar things. The guys that could grow one had a mustache and everyone wore retro clothes, so I felt pretty good about my guess. As long as I could keep their attention on themselves rather than me, I had a chance. A snowball's chance, but it was better than nothing.

"Well hey y'all," I said evenly behind a small grin, "Long time no see. Surprised you recognized me. Lemme guess: you're headed to a theme party?" I knew who would talk first: Kendra, the queen bee with the straight, honey-blonde hair and quick wit. She was the one who had said my name.

"Nailed it," she said with a low, pleased chuckle. I recalled that she really did have a good sense of humor, as long as it wasn't pointed at you: sharp and fast and cutting. She was the right height to look me in the eye and had a brilliant and ready smile. If you met her in passing, you'd never guess she could be an absolute witch. At that moment, however, she had a grin like a cat that had cornered a mouse.

"Seventies porn theme," one of the guys offered openly, "Wanna come? Colin's house, in about an hour. You'd be a hit with all that stuff." I wasn't sure if it was a real invite, but it seemed possible.

I shrugged and wished Rick would just hurry up with bagging everything. The guy was all thumbs and elbows.

"Thanks, Jake," I replied, "But I've already got plans tonight."

"No kidding!" someone exclaimed, nodding to my purchases and getting another round of laughs.

"Different party?" the girl in the very back asked. I looked directly at her. Her name was Sarah, and she was the quiet sort who had always tagged along with the group without engaging in the meaner or snobbier things they got up to. They included her because she was undeniably pretty, wore the same clothes they did, and helped whitewash everyone else's bullshit by being a straight-A student and genuinely kind person. Little Miss Perfect.

"No," I said directly. Sarah's face got hot, and she looked away for a moment before glancing back at me. I hadn't meant it to come out quite like that. We locked on to each other for a moment, and I saw her return my shy smile of apology, taking some of the accidental sting away. No harm done, though I vaguely heard some catcall sounds from the others.

Damn, she was gorgeous. Eyes like autumn leaves. Full lips that barely hid a sweet, ready smile. Skin that I had always imagined as smooth and soft. I briefly remembered that she smelled like sunlight when she sat next to me in class. I also couldn't help but recall that I'd thought about her more than a few times in private.

"So what, just a Tuesday? Come on, Luke, enquiring minds wanna know," Kendra said to a ripple of laughs. That brought my focus sharply back to the present. Shit. I knew I was caught flat-footed while admiring Sarah for a heartbeat. But I also wasn't going to tell them anything about Erin to avoid what was coming to me.

"Got your total here," Rick interrupted. My hero. The 'cool' crowd hadn't noticed or recognized Rick yet and probably never would, if he was lucky. I glanced at the green digits of the register. Damn, that was steep. Oh well. I had come prepared to pay in cash, and I started to count out some bills.

"Wait!" I heard Erin exclaim, coming out from a side-aisle. She came over and put her arm around my waist. My breath caught in my chest.

"My bad," she said, placing a violently blue dildo on the counter, "Couldn't decide. Oh, no way, do you all know each other?" I could see the four guys suddenly fixate on Erin, running from blonde curls to searingly hot body and then to me, then back to her in disbelief. I quickly counted out the extra money for the stunt cock. Rick managed not to drop anything on the way to the bag, though I could see him freeze when he got an eyeful of Erin. I gave him a warning look and he hurriedly went back to cashiering.

"Is that...?" Kendra slowly asked Erin, pointing at me incredulously. All the girls' mouths and eyes widened, taking their turn to give me the same elevator eyes the guys had given Erin. In the back, Sarah hid a smile behind her hand as she raised her eyebrows. Erin, for her part, seemed very pleased with herself, and petted me possessively.

"Mmhmmm," she purred, and I had very good idea of what that meant. Even knowing what little I really did about Erin at the time, I shouldn't have been surprised that within five minutes of seeing some other girls she knew - in a sex shop, no less - she would have bragged instantly or said any number of outlandish truths. I tried not to ruin my apparent surge in social standing by doing anything stupid, like talking. I don't know that I could have said much anyway; it felt like my heart was trying to jump past my tonsils.

"Oh," Erin exclaimed suddenly, turning around to Rick, "Need condoms for certain kinds of fun. Should definitely stock up."

Rick, dumbstruck by the situation and still utterly dazzled by Erin (who looked about half his height), gestured vaguely to a gigantic fish bowl of individually wrapped, colorful condoms next to the register. A hand-written sign that read "Free!" was taped to the front.

"Aw, that's so thoughtful, glad y'all do that," Erin said, then hopped up and leaned over the counter to point at the boxes behind him. It was impossible for anyone not to notice everything about her as she did so.

"But we'll take those," she chirped, pointing at a box of larger-sized condoms on the wall behind Rick. She'd even picked my brand. She did one of those foot-pops that had first caught my eye before hopping back down and adjusting her dress slightly. I noticed she ran her hands slowly over her small yet well-shaped ass to smooth a nonexistent wrinkle, making the people behind her drool with lust or seethe with envy. She was in her element: teasing, confident, and daring. She made it far too easy for me to admire her.

I glanced around at the squadron behind us, daring them to say anything. I cocked my head slightly.

"Nice seeing everyone," I said evenly, putting my hand briefly on the small of Erin's back as I picked up the bag of goods, "And thanks for the invite, sorry I can't make it. Tell Colin I said hi."

Rick plucked the box of condoms off the wall and slowly slid it across the counter straight to Erin. She beamed at him, and he looked like his day had been made. He glanced at all of us and lastly at me before speaking directly to Erin, the ghost of a smile on his pimple-scarred face.

"No charge for these," he told her, "Manager's Special."

Erin and I repeated our goodbyes to the crowd and got to my car before laughing.

"Holy shit," I sighed as we pulled out of the parking lot and into a brilliant sunset evening, "You were amazing. Took your sweet time rescuing me, but amazing."

"Aw, thanks," she said, gleefully rummaging through the bag, "But I was enjoying the show. And you were doing just fine. Kendra didn't know what to do after recognizing you, and you had the rest of 'em on the ropes. Especially Sarah! Hot lil' thing *wanted* some of what you were selling."

"Wait. You were 'enjoying the show'? And no, she didn't."

"Oh I was and she certainly did. Trust me. I know her from loads of debate meets and figure skating lessons. I've seen how she looks at cute boys before. Ten bucks says she's going to 'think' about you some more as soon as she gets home. I'd wanna watch her do it, too. Jesus, just think about that body she's got... hmmm. I'll have to think about that one. Anyway, I wanted to see if any of the girls figured it out before I told 'em it was you. But no. Disappointing. Though I guess I was describing things they didn't know about you."

"Alright," I said, taking the next turn, "You got me curious. What'd you tell them?"

"Nice try, but you don't get to know everything," she said happily.

"Oh come on," I protested.

"Curiosity killed the cat," she said impudently, shimmying her dress up to her waist until she was only sitting in her sheer panties. The sight and promise of her strong thighs and smooth hips making my pulse surge forward. She licked her lips at me, and slipped one strap off her shoulder.

"And I want *you* to be nice and curious about *this* little kitty," she purred, trailing her fingers over herself.

I'm amazed I didn't get pulled over for speeding.

***

***Early Summer***

I knocked on the thin door.

"Ready to behave?" I asked.

"... Yes," came the anticipated reply. We'd discovered that Erin really liked the brat-disciplinarian dynamic, and those roles were quickly becoming some of our favorites. I opened the creaky closet door and stared down at her. She looked up at me for a moment with those keen eyes, sharing a grin with me to show she was having fun. I kissed my fingertip and placed it on her lips. She kissed it back. Then she quickly looked down at the floor, resuming the play. Erin was kneeling, palms up on her thighs, head up but eyes down. I turned and walked to the far side of the room, near the four-poster bed in the guest room of her house.

"Come," I said. She got up.

"I wasn't clear," I clarified, "I'll be better about that. Crawl to me." She paused and got back down to crawl slowly across the floor to me, making it a slinky, sultry, rocking motion.

"Good," I said, caressing her forehead, "Ready to listen now?"

"Yes, Sir," she said eagerly, trying to nibble my hand.

"Go to the dresser and pick out one toy you would like to play with. No talking," I added. She flicked her eyebrows at me and went over to the toys splayed out on the bed's cover. She pretended to browse, but I watched her face and knew her mind. She came back with a sparkly butt plug in her left hand, a set of handcuffs in her right.

"Pet," I said evenly, "I told you to come back with one toy." She bit her lip and crawled forward using only her knees, her hands outstretched to showcase her selections.

"I can't choose," she pouted.

"And I said *no* talking, didn't I?" I responded.

"But I want both," she whined, pressing forward to nestle her face against the bulge in my pants. She stared up at me and nudged my cock invitingly.

"Actually, all three," she continued huskily, "I want my favorite toy, too."

"So when you said you wanted to be a good girl, you were lying?" I asked, gently caressing her temple and tucking her hair back.

"Oh yeah," she giggled. I smiled at her wolfishly. Her pupils dilated, because she knew what was coming next in our agreed-upon script. She gasped and panted as my hand slowly tightened in her hair, pulling her head back and chin up. She reflexively dropped the toys.

"Wrong answer," I said, expression unchanged.

"Ah... Ah!" she whimpered when I gripped a little harder before tossing her away.

"Pick that plug up with your mouth," I ordered.

"Hell no - ow!" she exclaimed, as my hand connected with her ass with a loud crack. It was harder than she had been expecting, and a little off-script but still well within parameters - which she had made sure to tell me many times was exactly what she was looking for. I watched a slight quiver travel through her, and she briefly reached down to touch herself. She was a happy lady with a large handprint on her backside.

"Pick that plug up with your mouth," I reiterated, "Now." She fell forward on the floor and quickly found the plug. As she went to get it, she suddenly coughed and glanced up at me.

"Pause," she said.

"Can I help?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Nah. Hair," she said with a small cough. She slowly pulled out something long and stringy. Probably one of hers. She popped the plug into her mouth.

"Ready?" I asked quietly, like a stagehand. She nodded enthusiastically, making the plastic diamond cap of the plug glitter at me. Game on.

She came back to a kneeling position. I stood behind her while I stroked her hair and neck.