Attempt at Cape Bondage #1

Thing One:
Looking back at the last entry, my god, I need to edit things and not just assume that the text gremlins will eat my mistakes.*

Thing Two:
I’ve found out there there is a plant called the Buddha belly. This delights me beyond all measure of man.

Thing Three:
Oh yeah, have some fiction, and join me as I try to figure out what cape bondage means.

For today, cape bondage refers to media involving superheros and bondage.

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We managed our first kiss while I was hanging by my toes from an seventeenth-story ledge and he was leaned out of a sixteenth story window.

“Nice,” he yelled over the wind. “Did you grow up in a circus?”

“Try again,” I smirked, letting myself drop only to catch myself on a flagpole a few stories below.

Our next kiss was a little more desperate. We were squashed into a crowded maintenance closet in Grand Central Station, hiding from the Feverman’s thugs. His hand ended up on my breast, and my thigh was nudged up between his leg, and it sort of went from there.

“Contortionist and acrobatics,” he muttered. “Secret Chinese monastery?”

“I’m not a monk, I’m not Chinese, and shut up, I think they’re coming back.”

He finally got me out of the leotard and tights on New Year’s Eve, after Miracle Child and Nyanza blew the Infernium back to Hell. I left the mask on, and he was enough of a professional to let it go.

“Okay, I got it.” he said. I hadn’t uncuffed him from the bed posts and I just made a grumbling sound as I nuzzled closer to his chest.

“You’re a beautiful woman who fights crime in a mask, you like a little light kink in bed, and you don’t like being asked about your past.”

“Mmm. Now you’re getting it…”
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Coming Soon
The Secret Lives of Superheros
Some Dancing
1 Paragraph in 5 Different Genres
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*Okay, this has never worked, but I’m pretty sure they gave me my pseudonym. I woke up one morning and found that sometime in the night, “by Kannan Feng” had been added to a short story manuscript.

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