Speaking of fun with food and other hedonistic pleasures…THE TIES THAT BIND was launched today just in time for the holidays. Indulge yourself–DOES THE BUTCH COME WITH THE RECIPE? and the sequel THE TIES THAT BIND will satisfy your appetite without gaining a pound.
What could be more fun than being surrounded by a bunch of fun-loving lesbians in Provincetown, Massachusetts? Tristan convinces Cyndy to attend her first Women’s Week during the 25th Annual celebration and shows her another side of desire. With something for everyone, “The Ties That Bind” is for fans of love, lust, trust and some fun with bondage.
In a sequel to Does the Butch Come with the Recipe, softball captain, Cyndy Kaplan and her girlfriend, Tristan Rizzo, are back for a whole new adventure with much higher stakes. After Tristan’s prediction comes true and the Butch Cookbook earns enough money to subsidize a trip to Ft. Lauderdale for the whole team to attend the playoffs, she suggests another getaway, only without the softball league. Cyndy agrees to pop her Provincetown cherry in order to commemorate the 25th Annual Women’s Week. They end up renting a fantastic house in the fun-filled, estrogen-fest, with Tristan’s twin sister and her girlfriend to partake in the festivities. Cyndy has no idea what to expect, but Tristan is certain she’ll have Cyndy begging to come back for more.
Excerpt:
“Oh, my God! Can you believe this place?”
Bondage gear, restraints, fetish wear, and kinky sex toys, hung from the steel wall along with wrist and ankle shackles, and a red-cloaked rectangular piece of furniture by the wall rack. There was a four-poster bed, a Captain’s chair with the arms removed, a folding massage table, chains, whips and every imaginable sexual gadget available, including a swing. Cyndy couldn’t wrap her mind around this treasure trove of adult entertainment any more than Tristan apparently could. Nor could she fathom the dichotomous décor between this dark dungeon and the rest of the light, airy house. “More like shocked beyond belief,” she murmured, more to herself than to her cohort in crime.
“Why, shocked? I know you’re quite at home in this environment,” Tristan stated with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
“How would you know that?”
Tristan began rummaging at the foot of a bed in a chest that resembled a buried treasure of playwear until she’d settled on just the right outfit. “Because I’ve spotted you in some pretty raunchy places.”
Cyndy couldn’t imagine where her girlfriend had gone and who this imposter before her was in her stead. Her mouth may as well have been sealed shut, for she couldn’t utter a peep. Moisture poured out of her pussy, and had she been cognizant, she’d have worried about dehydration. She had turned her back on this scene long ago, but somehow, Tristan had lit the torch as easily as throwing a match into a gallon of gasoline. Only this time, she thought she trusted her captor. But why should she? There were two choices. Stay put and let Tristan have her own way, or run as fast as her legs could go.
Tristan’s sugared tone interrupted her reverie. “Get undressed and put this on,” she instructed and handed Cyndy a most unusual hospital gown. It was comically open in the front and back, which helped relieve some of the tension.
“Don’t smile, if you know what’s good for you.”
Cyndy formed a lopsided frown at best and donned the gown. She marveled at how easy it was to get back into bondage, although from a totally new angle. Wondering about when and where Tristan had seen her in action was put on the back burner. Maybe afterwards she’d ponder. She had a wanton pussy and a gloriously hot femme to satisfy.