.
His Command - BDSM Hardcore Sex Domination Erotica
BDSM hardcore book.
Excerpt:
The best times were the riskiest. She loved when he would sneak into a conference room at work and call her when he knew her suitemates were home. He would immediately make her strip, talking dirty to her as she did so. Her body heated instantly at the sound of his voice and the blood rushed between her legs before her fingers could even get there. He would make her moan loudly for him, make her be loud enough that her suitemates could most likely hear, or else she was not allowed her orgasm. He would make her use the vibrator that he had bought and sent to her, making her turn it on high and rub it hard against her g-spot. Doing that at the same time that she was rubbing her clit drove her almost insane, especially when he would not let her stop cumming. Numerous times he had commanded her to cum over and over again. She had actually pleaded with him to let her stop, pleaded that her clit was getting rubbed raw, that her cunt was getting too sore, that the pleasure was too great, too intense.
All the while she could hear the smile, that evil grin, in his voice, she knew he was reveling in this form of torment, this control that he had over her. She would think back on it later and wonder if she truly was crazy. He was not there, he was not actually doing those things to her, and yet she could not stop herself. She delighted in using her body for him, for the pleasure that it brought him no matter what it did to her. It was not so much the pleasure of her body that she craved, but rather she realized it was the pleasure she derived from pleasing him, from hearing the satisfaction in his voice. She had become his personal little slut, his slave, his fucktoy. At least, those were a few of his favorite words to call her. And she knew that that was what she wanted, what she craved, and what she knew that she truly was. He had brought out her true self and in her bondage to him he had freed her.
And soon all her desires would be freed even more. She was going to him, today. Other than the normal outfit that she was allowed to wear for the plane ride there, she had nothing in her suitcase other than skimpy lingerie, and she had a good feeling that even that would not remain on her body for very long. Even the outfit she was wearing now barely made its way out of her closet. The black halter top plunged deep between her large soft breasts. She had enhanced her cleavage with a little blush and she caught almost every man at the airport starring at her bulging tits. She fought he whole day with her skirt. It was short, red, and leather.
With no panties underneath she had to be very careful, especially since she was getting extremely wet in the anticipation of going to her Master today. She blushed deeply, almost as red as her skirt, when she stood up from her seat in the airport and clearly saw the little puddle of her sex juices that she had left in her place. Completing the outfit were her "fuck me pumps." The very high heeled black shoes showed off her dainty feet. Little black straps wrapped around her ankle and lower leg, drawing the eyes of every man (and a few women) to the hem of her dangerously short skirt. She felt like exactly what he wanted her to feel like, a slut.
Her face lit up when she saw him in the airport waiting to meet her. She wanted to stay calm and composed, but she also wanted to run to him, to wrap herself around him and be encompassed in his arms until the entire world around her just melted away. He recognized her immediately and grinned. He had the upper hand in more ways than one, he had seen naked photos of her and though she was not wearing much to begin with, she knew he was mentally stripping her of everything she was told to wear as she stepped closer to him.
As she reached him, he grabbed her gently but firmly and kissed her before she could even utter a single word. The kiss made her feel dizzy, with lust, with passion, with urgency and desire. She pressed her body tight to his as her tongue danced with his, she didn’t want to stop, and he was intoxicating.
As he pulled back from the kiss she was breathing hard. He looked into her eyes and laughed, leaning in to whisper "mmm my slut" into her ear before nipping her earlobe lightly. She knew that her juices would soon be dripping from her naughty pussy and she closed her legs tightly to try to stop the flow. He took a black satin ribbon from his coat pocket and instructed her to turn and lift her hair up. This was to be her first collar until the next step of her training when she would be given something more official and have his initials tattooed on her mound, being claimed as his slave.
As they walked through the airport to baggage claim his hand rested on her ass, squeezing it any time they stopped and he whispered to her that she looked like even more of a slut with her nipples so hard and sticking out.
1115100889
Excerpt:
The best times were the riskiest. She loved when he would sneak into a conference room at work and call her when he knew her suitemates were home. He would immediately make her strip, talking dirty to her as she did so. Her body heated instantly at the sound of his voice and the blood rushed between her legs before her fingers could even get there. He would make her moan loudly for him, make her be loud enough that her suitemates could most likely hear, or else she was not allowed her orgasm. He would make her use the vibrator that he had bought and sent to her, making her turn it on high and rub it hard against her g-spot. Doing that at the same time that she was rubbing her clit drove her almost insane, especially when he would not let her stop cumming. Numerous times he had commanded her to cum over and over again. She had actually pleaded with him to let her stop, pleaded that her clit was getting rubbed raw, that her cunt was getting too sore, that the pleasure was too great, too intense.
All the while she could hear the smile, that evil grin, in his voice, she knew he was reveling in this form of torment, this control that he had over her. She would think back on it later and wonder if she truly was crazy. He was not there, he was not actually doing those things to her, and yet she could not stop herself. She delighted in using her body for him, for the pleasure that it brought him no matter what it did to her. It was not so much the pleasure of her body that she craved, but rather she realized it was the pleasure she derived from pleasing him, from hearing the satisfaction in his voice. She had become his personal little slut, his slave, his fucktoy. At least, those were a few of his favorite words to call her. And she knew that that was what she wanted, what she craved, and what she knew that she truly was. He had brought out her true self and in her bondage to him he had freed her.
And soon all her desires would be freed even more. She was going to him, today. Other than the normal outfit that she was allowed to wear for the plane ride there, she had nothing in her suitcase other than skimpy lingerie, and she had a good feeling that even that would not remain on her body for very long. Even the outfit she was wearing now barely made its way out of her closet. The black halter top plunged deep between her large soft breasts. She had enhanced her cleavage with a little blush and she caught almost every man at the airport starring at her bulging tits. She fought he whole day with her skirt. It was short, red, and leather.
With no panties underneath she had to be very careful, especially since she was getting extremely wet in the anticipation of going to her Master today. She blushed deeply, almost as red as her skirt, when she stood up from her seat in the airport and clearly saw the little puddle of her sex juices that she had left in her place. Completing the outfit were her "fuck me pumps." The very high heeled black shoes showed off her dainty feet. Little black straps wrapped around her ankle and lower leg, drawing the eyes of every man (and a few women) to the hem of her dangerously short skirt. She felt like exactly what he wanted her to feel like, a slut.
Her face lit up when she saw him in the airport waiting to meet her. She wanted to stay calm and composed, but she also wanted to run to him, to wrap herself around him and be encompassed in his arms until the entire world around her just melted away. He recognized her immediately and grinned. He had the upper hand in more ways than one, he had seen naked photos of her and though she was not wearing much to begin with, she knew he was mentally stripping her of everything she was told to wear as she stepped closer to him.
As she reached him, he grabbed her gently but firmly and kissed her before she could even utter a single word. The kiss made her feel dizzy, with lust, with passion, with urgency and desire. She pressed her body tight to his as her tongue danced with his, she didn’t want to stop, and he was intoxicating.
As he pulled back from the kiss she was breathing hard. He looked into her eyes and laughed, leaning in to whisper "mmm my slut" into her ear before nipping her earlobe lightly. She knew that her juices would soon be dripping from her naughty pussy and she closed her legs tightly to try to stop the flow. He took a black satin ribbon from his coat pocket and instructed her to turn and lift her hair up. This was to be her first collar until the next step of her training when she would be given something more official and have his initials tattooed on her mound, being claimed as his slave.
As they walked through the airport to baggage claim his hand rested on her ass, squeezing it any time they stopped and he whispered to her that she looked like even more of a slut with her nipples so hard and sticking out.
His Command - BDSM Hardcore Sex Domination Erotica
BDSM hardcore book.
Excerpt:
The best times were the riskiest. She loved when he would sneak into a conference room at work and call her when he knew her suitemates were home. He would immediately make her strip, talking dirty to her as she did so. Her body heated instantly at the sound of his voice and the blood rushed between her legs before her fingers could even get there. He would make her moan loudly for him, make her be loud enough that her suitemates could most likely hear, or else she was not allowed her orgasm. He would make her use the vibrator that he had bought and sent to her, making her turn it on high and rub it hard against her g-spot. Doing that at the same time that she was rubbing her clit drove her almost insane, especially when he would not let her stop cumming. Numerous times he had commanded her to cum over and over again. She had actually pleaded with him to let her stop, pleaded that her clit was getting rubbed raw, that her cunt was getting too sore, that the pleasure was too great, too intense.
All the while she could hear the smile, that evil grin, in his voice, she knew he was reveling in this form of torment, this control that he had over her. She would think back on it later and wonder if she truly was crazy. He was not there, he was not actually doing those things to her, and yet she could not stop herself. She delighted in using her body for him, for the pleasure that it brought him no matter what it did to her. It was not so much the pleasure of her body that she craved, but rather she realized it was the pleasure she derived from pleasing him, from hearing the satisfaction in his voice. She had become his personal little slut, his slave, his fucktoy. At least, those were a few of his favorite words to call her. And she knew that that was what she wanted, what she craved, and what she knew that she truly was. He had brought out her true self and in her bondage to him he had freed her.
And soon all her desires would be freed even more. She was going to him, today. Other than the normal outfit that she was allowed to wear for the plane ride there, she had nothing in her suitcase other than skimpy lingerie, and she had a good feeling that even that would not remain on her body for very long. Even the outfit she was wearing now barely made its way out of her closet. The black halter top plunged deep between her large soft breasts. She had enhanced her cleavage with a little blush and she caught almost every man at the airport starring at her bulging tits. She fought he whole day with her skirt. It was short, red, and leather.
With no panties underneath she had to be very careful, especially since she was getting extremely wet in the anticipation of going to her Master today. She blushed deeply, almost as red as her skirt, when she stood up from her seat in the airport and clearly saw the little puddle of her sex juices that she had left in her place. Completing the outfit were her "fuck me pumps." The very high heeled black shoes showed off her dainty feet. Little black straps wrapped around her ankle and lower leg, drawing the eyes of every man (and a few women) to the hem of her dangerously short skirt. She felt like exactly what he wanted her to feel like, a slut.
Her face lit up when she saw him in the airport waiting to meet her. She wanted to stay calm and composed, but she also wanted to run to him, to wrap herself around him and be encompassed in his arms until the entire world around her just melted away. He recognized her immediately and grinned. He had the upper hand in more ways than one, he had seen naked photos of her and though she was not wearing much to begin with, she knew he was mentally stripping her of everything she was told to wear as she stepped closer to him.
As she reached him, he grabbed her gently but firmly and kissed her before she could even utter a single word. The kiss made her feel dizzy, with lust, with passion, with urgency and desire. She pressed her body tight to his as her tongue danced with his, she didn’t want to stop, and he was intoxicating.
As he pulled back from the kiss she was breathing hard. He looked into her eyes and laughed, leaning in to whisper "mmm my slut" into her ear before nipping her earlobe lightly. She knew that her juices would soon be dripping from her naughty pussy and she closed her legs tightly to try to stop the flow. He took a black satin ribbon from his coat pocket and instructed her to turn and lift her hair up. This was to be her first collar until the next step of her training when she would be given something more official and have his initials tattooed on her mound, being claimed as his slave.
As they walked through the airport to baggage claim his hand rested on her ass, squeezing it any time they stopped and he whispered to her that she looked like even more of a slut with her nipples so hard and sticking out.
Excerpt:
The best times were the riskiest. She loved when he would sneak into a conference room at work and call her when he knew her suitemates were home. He would immediately make her strip, talking dirty to her as she did so. Her body heated instantly at the sound of his voice and the blood rushed between her legs before her fingers could even get there. He would make her moan loudly for him, make her be loud enough that her suitemates could most likely hear, or else she was not allowed her orgasm. He would make her use the vibrator that he had bought and sent to her, making her turn it on high and rub it hard against her g-spot. Doing that at the same time that she was rubbing her clit drove her almost insane, especially when he would not let her stop cumming. Numerous times he had commanded her to cum over and over again. She had actually pleaded with him to let her stop, pleaded that her clit was getting rubbed raw, that her cunt was getting too sore, that the pleasure was too great, too intense.
All the while she could hear the smile, that evil grin, in his voice, she knew he was reveling in this form of torment, this control that he had over her. She would think back on it later and wonder if she truly was crazy. He was not there, he was not actually doing those things to her, and yet she could not stop herself. She delighted in using her body for him, for the pleasure that it brought him no matter what it did to her. It was not so much the pleasure of her body that she craved, but rather she realized it was the pleasure she derived from pleasing him, from hearing the satisfaction in his voice. She had become his personal little slut, his slave, his fucktoy. At least, those were a few of his favorite words to call her. And she knew that that was what she wanted, what she craved, and what she knew that she truly was. He had brought out her true self and in her bondage to him he had freed her.
And soon all her desires would be freed even more. She was going to him, today. Other than the normal outfit that she was allowed to wear for the plane ride there, she had nothing in her suitcase other than skimpy lingerie, and she had a good feeling that even that would not remain on her body for very long. Even the outfit she was wearing now barely made its way out of her closet. The black halter top plunged deep between her large soft breasts. She had enhanced her cleavage with a little blush and she caught almost every man at the airport starring at her bulging tits. She fought he whole day with her skirt. It was short, red, and leather.
With no panties underneath she had to be very careful, especially since she was getting extremely wet in the anticipation of going to her Master today. She blushed deeply, almost as red as her skirt, when she stood up from her seat in the airport and clearly saw the little puddle of her sex juices that she had left in her place. Completing the outfit were her "fuck me pumps." The very high heeled black shoes showed off her dainty feet. Little black straps wrapped around her ankle and lower leg, drawing the eyes of every man (and a few women) to the hem of her dangerously short skirt. She felt like exactly what he wanted her to feel like, a slut.
Her face lit up when she saw him in the airport waiting to meet her. She wanted to stay calm and composed, but she also wanted to run to him, to wrap herself around him and be encompassed in his arms until the entire world around her just melted away. He recognized her immediately and grinned. He had the upper hand in more ways than one, he had seen naked photos of her and though she was not wearing much to begin with, she knew he was mentally stripping her of everything she was told to wear as she stepped closer to him.
As she reached him, he grabbed her gently but firmly and kissed her before she could even utter a single word. The kiss made her feel dizzy, with lust, with passion, with urgency and desire. She pressed her body tight to his as her tongue danced with his, she didn’t want to stop, and he was intoxicating.
As he pulled back from the kiss she was breathing hard. He looked into her eyes and laughed, leaning in to whisper "mmm my slut" into her ear before nipping her earlobe lightly. She knew that her juices would soon be dripping from her naughty pussy and she closed her legs tightly to try to stop the flow. He took a black satin ribbon from his coat pocket and instructed her to turn and lift her hair up. This was to be her first collar until the next step of her training when she would be given something more official and have his initials tattooed on her mound, being claimed as his slave.
As they walked through the airport to baggage claim his hand rested on her ass, squeezing it any time they stopped and he whispered to her that she looked like even more of a slut with her nipples so hard and sticking out.
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His Command - BDSM Hardcore Sex Domination Erotica
His Command - BDSM Hardcore Sex Domination Erotica
eBook
$2.99
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2.99
In Stock
Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940016401362 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Haley's Comet |
| Publication date: | 04/11/2013 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 33 KB |
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