After realizing she will never have the freedom she was promised, Lady Jane does what any good consensual slave would in her situation: she maneuvers those around her to do her bidding. She is happy enough in her slavery, but wants to do so willingly and the only one who will treat her the way she deserves—and desires—is Marquissa Gabrielle. It proves easy to win Gabrielle over to her side…
This is a 10,000 word novella intended for adult audiences. Part five of five.
Content warning: This story features graphic sex, BDSM, cheating spouses, gay sex, lesbian sex, bondage and discipline, group sex, female dominance, female submission, sexual slavery, and other explicit depictions of adult sexuality. Strong language and adult only content.
It was hours later when Gabrielle returned with Edward in tow. Both were disheveled and not entirely from riding. “See?” Gabrielle cried when they entered the garden where Jane remained bound. “I knew she would be waiting for us.” She laughed at her own joke and Edward chuckled along with her.
Gabrielle walked up to the slave and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I’m exhausted from Edward,” she whispered in Jane’s ear. She stepped back. “Would you like to use her?” she asked Edward. “The pink has faded from her skin, but her body is ready for you.”
“Do you really want to watch me use your slave?” he asked his paramour.
A kiss was bestowed from Gabrielle to Edward. “I’d love it. I’d love to watch it.” She rang the bell on the table summoning a servant. She ordered drinks. “Is there a problem? Do you need me to get you ready for her?” She carefully removed her leather riding gloves and sat down as the serving maid appeared with her liquid refreshment. The maid set down the tray and quickly disappeared. Jane knew the servant was just on the other side of the hedges, waiting to be called…and perhaps spying on them. Maybe even enjoying the show that was about to begin.
Edward tossed his gloves down on the table, picked up a glass, drained half its contents, and started opening up his poorly buttoned trousers. “I think a little help from you will be needed,” he said.
The marquissa took a sip from her glass, wetting her lips, before going to the baron. Jane watched. It was a scene that had played out before her many times previously, but it still interested Jane. She wondered what that meant about her...
About the Author
Grace Vilmont likes the more bizarre aspects of human—and nonhuman—sexuality. Much to her own surprise she is married and living in suburbia pretending to live a normal life while the best parts of her life only exists in her mind.