Dangers of Control – Resistance : Bad Boy Billionaire BDSM Romance (Series Book One)



“Good,” he breathed. “Look at how far we’ve come. It wasn’t that long ago I’d have you going all to pieces on me just for a little tie-up. But you’ve learned I can be good to you, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed.

“And you’ve learned I don’t have to be, too.”

The answering shiver, nervous and aroused and eager, jerked through the leather strap of the belt tied at her throat. “Yes, sir.” Her voice was barely audible.

For the man who can have anything, she’s the perfect plaything. But he’s not who she thinks he is, and the more she comes under his spell, the less he’s willing to pretend.

Reader Advisory: This story is part of a series intended for mature audiences only and which features intensely erotic situations, forced exhibition, public humiliation, discipline, dominance, and rough sex. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

His hand left her breast and wandered downward, tracing over her abdomen, taking a detour to squeeze her deliciously tight ass, and then down over the sensitive mound of her groin. He felt her stiffen as his hand cupped her pussy, and even before his fingers were at her hole, he could feel how wet she was for him.

“So wet already, Heather?” he breathed. “Is that all because of me?”

“All, sir. I’m – I’m always wet when I’m with you.”

He had ample evidence that that was true, but it didn’t make it any less exquisite to feel her sex soaking with juices, ready for his cock whenever he wanted to take her. It never got old. Seeing the effects he had on her never, ever got old. He felt another throb in his shaft, by now standing at complete attention against the tight cloth on his crotch, but he wasn’t about to rush through this and miss out. The best part was always watching her squirm.

With a satisfying click, he opened the buckle of his belt. Heather’s hands flew to his zipper at the sound, over-eager and hopeful it meant he was about to take her. But he pushed her hands away, and instead raised the belt to her head, threading it back through itself in a loop. He heard her breath stop as she saw what he was doing. He brought it up and she bent her head slightly to let him slip it over and down to her throat, where he tightened it with an easy little flick.

It wasn’t tight enough to choke her, at least for the moment, but she wouldn’t forget it was there, that was for sure.

He reached into his pocket and found his silk handkerchief, still crisp and pressed since the morning, and put it up to her eyes. She stilled, her body taut and at attention, as he tied the little cloth off with a firm knot.

“Good,” he breathed. “Look at how far we’ve come. It wasn’t that long ago I’d have you going all to pieces on me just for a little tie-up. But you’ve learned I can be good to you, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed.

“And you’ve learned I don’t have to be, too.”

The answering shiver, nervous and aroused and eager, jerked through the leather strap of the belt tied at her throat. “Yes, sir.” Her voice was barely audible.

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Learning to Surrender – Powerless : Discipline, Submission, Exhibition, and Humiliation (Series Book 5)



No man has ever made Heather feel the way Troy does, but no man has ever asked so much of her in return. When can she trust he knows exactly how much she can take, and when is she right to be afraid?

Every choice feels like its leading to disaster, and the only thing that makes sense is to give in …

Reader Advisory: This story is part of a series intended for mature audiences only and which features intensely erotic situations, an enigmatic and dangerously alluring billionaire, the younger woman he draws under his spell, forced exhibition, public humiliation, discipline, dominance, and rough sex. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

The rideshare driver who picked her up took a little convincing that he was authorized to drive into the charter terminal at the airport. He was smarter she had given him credit for at first glance, and he could tell Heather wasn’t providing the whole truth when she said she was on some sort of approved parties list. But after being promised a generous tip, he agreed to try.

Twenty minutes later, there they were pulling up to the access gate of the charter terminal. Heather leaned out to wave at the security guard, and thankfully he had been working the previous Friday when she and Troy had flown out en route to Italy. He motioned them through without stopping them.

She spotted the familiar white limousine waiting out closer to the concourse, and directed the driver to drop her off next to it. She couldn’t stop thinking about coming here for her first time three weeks ago, when she was still so awed by the idea that someone like Troy Baldwin wanted to see her again. It was funny how she was always meeting him at the airport, as if he came down from somewhere more important just to see her.

But what an unhealthy attitude, she realized. It’s that kind of thinking that got me into this mess. He’s just someone. He’s amazing and thrilling and I fall apart when he touches me, but he’s just human. He’s just human and I’m just human. No more and no less. If I can’t accept that I deserve him, I don’t have any business being here. What’s between us can be real. I can make it real. If he doesn’t think that’s what he wants, I’ll show him it is. I will.

It was a nice little mantra. Repeating it felt good. It helped pass the minutes that seemed to stretch like hours. The wind bit into her skin, whipped through her hair, made her feel like she was waiting at the edge of the world, trying to reach across it.

After a lifetime, a cold, dreadful lifetime, she saw a jet approaching along the network of runways.

Heather’s courage almost failed. She had nowhere to run, no way to leave, and it was still so hard to stay still, watching it come. Her heart was in her throat. Her palms hurt where she’d been pressing her nails into them. If the plane had been waiting for her to be ready, it never would have come.

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Learning to Surrender – The Edge : Discipline, Submission, Exhibition, and Humiliation (Series Book 4)



She’d only known him a few hours, but already she wanted to learn how it felt to please him. He left her with a necklace that he says marks his property, and deciding to put it on has promptly turned Heather’s life upside down.

No man has ever made Heather feel the way Troy does, but no man has ever asked so much of her in return. When can she trust he knows exactly how much she can take, and when is she right to be afraid?

Reader Advisory: This story is part of a series intended for mature audiences only and which features intensely erotic situations, an enigmatic and dangerously alluring billionaire, the younger woman he draws under his spell, forced exhibition, public humiliation, discipline, dominance, and rough sex. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

She was still flushed and aching as Troy ushered her into a small boutique on the north side of the city. The walk hadn’t been far, maybe five or six blocks, and under other circumstances she knew she would have enjoyed it. But in her current state it felt more like a delirious march, primed to a perfect edge as her body throbbed with unfinished business.

The boutique was much larger inside than it had appeared from the street. Rows of the latest high-end fashion from Milan and Paris ran side by side with more fringe, risqué offerings in straight lines towards the back. Looking around, Heather began to guess a little at what Troy had in mind.

At the sound of their entry, a woman appeared from the rear of the store. In Heather’s wound up state, it was hard not to stare. The woman was simply beautiful, with soft olive skin, full breasts, and dark hair tied up in layers at the back. Her eyes were a gorgeous hazel, and when they fell on Troy, they grew wide and appreciative. “Welcome,” she said, with only a slight accent.

“Are we so obviously American?” Troy asked, smiling.

She laughed. “Just American? I’m not so uneducated. I know who you are.”

“You do?” Troy sighed. “Isn’t there anywhere far enough away for me to escape it these days?”

“You are almost far enough here, I think. But not with me. I have to know about important men, and so I know about you.” Her eyes left Troy for the first time and flickered over to Heather. “You are here for your friend?” she asked, still speaking to Troy as she looked Heather over with a penetrating gaze that – maybe it was just the lingering ache in Heather’s pussy – seemed deeply sensual.

“I am. We’re looking for something a little bit more fun than what she happened to pack with her.”

“Of course,” the woman agreed. “Let me show you what I have.”

Heather found herself blushing as item after item was pulled off the racks, each one more revealing than the last. As intimidated as Heather still was with Troy, she had grown comfortable in her body with him. He had a way of making her feel beautiful and desired that drove her crazy, and she liked the way he dressed her to his tastes, even if it sometimes shocked her lingering prudish instincts. But being here with this woman, going through clothes meant for her body at its most intimate … that was something different. She didn’t know whether she liked this.

But it was also impossible to deny that it was turning her on.

And yet, none of this seemed enough for Troy. “I want something that really shows her off,” he was explaining to the woman.

The woman turned her deep, almond eyes on Heather, and again Heather got the sensation that she might as well be naked. “You might have an easier time if you tried a woman … with more to show off,” she suggested, standing not by accident in a way to emphasize her own generous breasts and hips. But she faltered as she caught sight of Troy’s darkened expression and hurried on. “But we’ll see what we can do. She’s very lovely.”

“Yes,” Troy agreed, in a tone of unmistakable rebuke, “she is.” His right hand, which hadn’t left the small of Heather’s back since they had entered the store, brought her closer in with a possessive touch, and Heather’s body hummed to be against him. “The rest of it is in this row, is it?” he asked the woman. “I think I can look through it myself.”

She backed away, apologizing again and promising to send out her nephew to handle the billing if they wanted to buy anything. Heather watched her go with a sense of satisfaction that was marred with an unfamiliar, lingering interest, as though the woman had stirred something in her she didn’t want to let go.

But she had quite enough other things stirring inside her on this particular morning.

She jumped as she realized Troy had said something. “Sorry, sir, what?” she asked. There it was again, that sneaky ‘sir.’ At least they were alone now.

“I said, why don’t you go wait for me in the changing room?”

Heather retreated obediently to a small stall in the corner of the store. The door swung shut behind her and she sank onto the little bench, pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the mirror.

Her hand moved involuntarily back between her legs and for a moment she wondered whether she dared try for release before Troy could notice. The urge to plunge her fingers inside herself seemed to pulse through her with every movement and thought.

She had been such a normal, in control woman only a few weeks ago. How had she wound up like this?

He had told her not to. He had told her not to. He had told her …

“Heather.”

She opened her eyes and saw his distinctive leather shoes below the gap in the door. “Yes.”

“Pass me your clothes out, please.”

It took Heather a moment to understand what he was asking, and then two realizations clicked into place at once. One: he wasn’t buying clothes for her to put on for some hypothetical evening, safely in the future and safely in a bedroom, where he could enjoy the sight of her in lingerie while he taught her the identity of a submissive. This was to wear here, now. In public. He wanted her to put on a new outfit, specifically designed to ‘show her off’ and walk out of here in it. And two: he wasn’t going to let her see what he had picked out before she surrendered her current clothes. She would be completely helpless, standing naked in a foreign changing room, completely dependent on whatever he decided to offer her to cover herself.

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Learning to Surrender – Property : Discipline, Submission, Exhibition, and Humiliation (Series Book 3)



She’d only known him a few hours, but already she wanted to learn how it felt to please him. He left her with a necklace that he says marks his property, and deciding to put it on has promptly turned Heather’s life upside down.

Troy spends half his time in a private jet, has to dodge reporters when out in public, and by now he owns half the city skyline Heather’s always been such a sucker for. He has the power to do anything, but does he want more from her than she can give him in return?

Reader Advisory: This story is part of a series intended for mature audiences only and which features intensely erotic situations, an enigmatic and dangerously alluring billionaire, the younger woman he draws under his spell, forced exhibition, public humiliation, discipline, dominance, and rough sex. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

Wind whipped into the passenger area as the driver opened his door, carrying with it the jeers of the men he had cut off. In a moment he had hurried around to open the door for Heather, and then she was outside, the wind and noise of the jet pouring over her. In such an empty space the earth seemed to fall away on all sides, leaving only a huge, darkening sky above her and the lights of the airplane as it settled to a stop only a few yards away.

Flashes from behind her made her turn, and she realized the men who had been waiting were photographers. It was such a surreal moment that she almost didn’t turn in time to see … him. He was stepping out of the plane. For a moment he was framed in the light of the doorway, his silhouette beckoning, perfect. God, had she really managed to wait five days for this?

Troy came lightly down the steps and closed the distance between them, holding his hand up in exasperation against the flash of the cameras. Several people emerged behind him, but Heather didn’t recognize them from his previous retinues at the office.

His smile as he approached could have lit up the sky. He paused in front of her and looked her up and down. “The only thing I’ve been wanting to see,” he said. “And here you are.”

“You call me and I come,” Heather answered. She fingered shyly at the necklace at her throat.

He was about to say something when a bulb flash from particularly close by made him look up in annoyance. “Come on,” he said, taking her by the wrist and leading her into the waiting limo.

She started to slide over him into one of the forward seats, but as the door closed he took her by the waist and pulled her back against him. He buried his face in her neck, kissing her sensitive skin, and she fell backwards into his grasp with a little laugh. She wriggled against him and felt a thick, growing shape nestle against her ass.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been looking forward to see you again,” he breathed in her ear, his hands gathering her into him and brushing tantalizingly over her sides and breasts.

She managed to twist slightly in his lap and press her lips to his. God, he felt good against her. Was it normal to feel this way about someone she barely knew? Was it okay? “You think I don’t?” she responded, unable to keep the naked lust out of her voice even if she had wanted to.

She felt the limo start to move and slipped sideways into the seat next to him, never letting herself lose contact with his body. “Who were those people taking pictures?” she asked.

Troy made a dismissive gesture. “They’re from the Post. They’re doing a story claiming I turned down the Unbordered Humanity Award because the Rockland Charity Board and I had a falling out.”

She didn’t know what any of it meant, but it sounded important. “Did you?”

“Is that what you’ve been waiting to know about me for the past 5 days?”

Heather laughed and kissed him. “No, I guess not.”

She didn’t notice the world as it flew by outside. In his arms after such a long, long wait, felt like all the bliss she needed. Well, it was enough for the moment. More would come soon: she could feel that guarantee in every brushing contact.

They were back at his apartment in the blink of an eye, riding the glass-lined elevator up to the roof of the city. He couldn’t keep her hands off her, and it felt so impossibly good to think that the past few days might have been as hard for him as they had been for her. He kicked open the heavy door to his apartment and pulled her inside, already peeling back the delicate little garment she had worn for him.

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Learning to Surrender – Playing with Fire : Discipline, Submission, Exhibition, and Humiliation (Series Book 2)



It was just a chance encounter at the back of a club where she didn’t belong in the first place. That was all it took to turn Heather’s life upside down.

She’s only known him a few hours, but already she wants to know how it feels to please him. He left her with a necklace that he says marks his property, and with each passing day the urge to try it on has been growing …

Reader Advisory: This story is part of a series intended for mature audiences only and which features intensely erotic situations, an enigmatic and dangerously alluring billionaire, the younger woman he draws under his spell, forced exhibition, public humiliation, discipline, dominance, and rough sex. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

A shy smile came unbidden to her lips. It seemed a relief after the past week that her fears were in the open, and that maybe they had been unfounded from the beginning. A small step forward pressed her back against him and her nose brushed up against his throat and jaw as she sought his lips. His firm hand pressed against her waist and he took the glass of wine from her weak fingers as he kissed her. She heard him set it down with a clink, but her eyes were closed in the bliss of feeling his form.

Before she knew it, they were in the bedroom. Its soft egg-shell walls seemed to go on forever in the dim light, circling around to the broad bed against the far side. She stumbled slightly as his hand disappeared from her waist, but he returned after only a moment, a black, silken cloth entwined within his fingers.

“A little taste of the other side,” he said, offering it to her.

She took it uncomprehendingly. It was impossibly soft and cool to the touch, and she ran her fingers through it in innocent appreciation. “A taste of what?” she asked after a moment.

“Powerlessness.”

And then she realized that what was in her hand was a blindfold. She took in a sharp breath, looking down at it with renewed trepidation. But the reassuring warmth of Troy’s touch came back to her. She remembered that incredible feeling when she had thought she was, or at least could be, the woman he wanted her to be.

The thought of objecting never entered her mind.

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Learning to Surrender Book One: Accidental Secrets (Discipline, Submission, Exhibition, and Humiliation)



Depending on who you talk to, Troy Baldwin is anything from an uptown playboy to a business-obsessed shark, but everyone would agree he’s sharp, handsome, and dangerous as they come. When Heather learns the sleepy little company she works for is getting bought out, there’s one name everybody hopes not to hear.

Her goal is to keep her head down and survive the corporate shake-up, but when a chance encounter with the new owner and CEO reveals more of both of them than they ever intended, that little plan goes out the window. They’ll have to keep each other’s secret, but with a man like this, things are never so simple …

Reader Advisory: This story is part of a series intended for mature audiences only and which features intensely erotic situations, an enigmatic and dangerously sexy billionaire, the younger woman he draws under his spell, forced exhibition, public humiliation, discipline, dominance, and rough sex. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

Heather looked around and couldn’t help but agree. This was definitely a higher end, highly maintained, and better looking group of people than was typical even in the nicer clubs in this part of town. To be honest, she really had no idea what to make of all of this. In some ways it felt like just setting foot in here was secret and illegal. That was just the vibe it gave off. But in other ways it felt almost disappointingly sedate. Where was all the action? When was something going to happen to justify the courage it had taken to venture here?

As though the universe had heard her silent complaints and decided to teach her a lesson, the doors they had just entered through opened again. A woman stepped inside, followed closely by a man. The woman was beautiful, with dark hair and a long coat. The man was tall and his demeanor was easy and confident. He had a piece of leather in his hand.

Heather stared at it in idle curiosity, and then realized that it was attached to something else. It wasn’t just a little handle of leather, it was a leash. It was a leash connected to the woman’s neck.

Heather’s mouth opened in shock. She hadn’t noticed it at first, because the lapels of the woman’s coat were turned up, but yes, beneath the coat a dark band of metal glistened around the woman’s throat. She shifted as the man led her over to a table, and the coat opened slightly to reveal what was beneath. Heather’s eyes got a little bigger. In amazement, she elbowed Nicole in the ribs.

Beneath the coat, the woman wore a leather harness. It was dark to match the leash, and it wound around her rib cage and down over her hips. Her breasts were completely bare, emerging pale and soft between the stiff straps of leather. The man twitched the leash in his hand and she jerked and followed his lead.

Heather could feel her face growing hot. She felt paralyzed. She couldn’t believe how … much she was turned on …

She studied the man’s face, cool and approving as he watched the woman move in front of him across the floor with small, constrained steps. The woman flushed frequently and kept glancing back at the man. Honestly, she looked like she’d just been fucked – like she’d just been fucked really, really well.

The pair joined a table with several couples already seated in place. She kept waiting for some of them to react. If not them, then maybe some of the people at the other tables. But no, as far as she could tell by the patrons, there was nothing going on that was at all out of the ordinary.

Nicole had been saying something to her. With difficulty, she tore her eyes away and turned to her friend.

“What did you say?”

“I said it’s rude to stare like that.”

“Oh.”

“Did you think you were going to come to a place like this and not see any skin?”

Heather shook her head. Nicole was apparently back to knowing everything. “I – I didn’t know what to expect.”

Nicole nodded sagely. “Collars are really big in places like this. If you’re wearing one, the other men know you’re taken.”

Heather took a long drink and coughed a little as it went down the wrong pipe. “I always thought the idea of a wedding ring was plenty romantic.”

Nicole gave her a pitying look.

“I’m just – ” she started, her eyes tracing back to the woman at the table. Now that she was looking for it, she noticed several other women with conspicuous leather chokers around their throats. They tended to be sitting a bit more upright and better mannered than the rest of the crowd, as though there was something waiting for the woman who let her good behavior slip.

Heather had always had a very secret fascination with discipline. When she’d been younger she’d found an old teacher’s spanking manual on a forgotten corner of the elementary school library and stolen it on an impulse. Now, sitting here, a lot of things she’d never intended to confront in public were getting prominently shoved in her face.

She shifted in her seat, uncomfortably aware of how wet she had gotten watching the newest pair of club patrons.

“I’m not really sure I should be here,” she muttered.

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Serving the Party (Discipline Exhibition Humiliation and Menage)



Melissa thought the maid agency job would get her a steady paycheck, but it’s come with a whole lot more than a few cleaning duties. The days of fighting it – if she ever really wanted to fight it – are over. She’s Mr. Rochefort’s toy. She wears what he wants her to wear, does what he wants her to do, and acts how he wants her to act.

She might secretly enjoy the discipline sessions when she makes a mistake, but she’s grateful that so far he hasn’t pushed her limits. But when he tells her that at his next party she’ll be serving more than drinks, she has a feeling things are about to change.

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, sexy billionaires and the young, submissive maid they take as a plaything, forced exhibition, public humiliation, discipline, dominance, and rough group sex. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

When I returned with a coffee tray in one hand and a platter of dark cake in the other, the room had fallen silent. I carried my offerings over to Mr. Rochefort, who glanced at them briefly in approval.

“Excellent,” he said, his eyes not on the food but on me. “A little closer now.”

I stepped forward obediently.

“It’s our job as hosts, you and I, to make sure our guests don’t get too bored, isn’t it?” he asked.

I nodded hesitantly.

“I knew I could count on you,” he said smiling. He withdrew from his pocket a pair of fabric scissors and beckoned me a final step closer to him.

Standing helplessly with my arms full of delicately balanced platters, I could only stare down in dawning shock as he reached out and cut down the bust of my already skimpy outfit. He pulled the discarded fabric away, letting my breasts to settle soft and naked out into the open. I looked between him and my bared chest in shock, my mouth slightly open in amazement and chagrin.

Before I could entirely process what had just happened, his hand reached up the short length of my skirt, hooked into my panties, and drew them down my thighs, into full sight of the room, and then let them fall to my ankles.

I stared down at them in turn, paralyzed.

“You’re a good actor, Melissa,” he said, gesturing at the prominent wetness in the crotch of the panties. “I almost couldn’t tell how much you were enjoying all of this.”

“I – ” Words failed me.

He gestured. “Well, serve the guests. Don’t be rude, now, Melissa.”

Slowly, I turned back to my captive audience, my face scarlet and my heart pounding in my chest. In little steps constrained by the panties around my ankles, I began serving coffee and dessert.

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Spanking the Secretary

He stood back, running a hand over the curve of my ass and the back of my thigh. “Alright, my little misbehaver. Panties off.”

Laurie’s new boss is painfully handsome, and try as she might, she just can’t keep her mind focused on her work when he’s around. Worst of all, he’s starting to notice the effect he has, and toying with his blushing assistant is quickly becoming his favorite game.

He loves how embarrassed she gets when he jokes that she needs a spanking, but she never thought he’d really go through with it.

He’s going to show her how wrong she is, and how good being wrong can feel …

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, a sexy alpha male boss and his young secretary, spanking, discipline, rough sex, dominance and submissiveness. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

My blush renewed tenfold and my eyes darted up to his own deep, probing eyes. There was something in them … hunger or desire for something. “Do I need – a spanking?” I repeated.

He put a hand to my chin and raised my face to look at him. My eyes rose shyly and gazed into his handsome face. I had never been so close to him. Every breath was that familiar, intoxicating scent. I was trembling a little against his touch. I had lost track of where his stern sense of discipline ended and where his simple desire to have his hands on my body began. Both were clear and unhidden on that face that had so often dominated my thoughts.

“I – I guess so,” I breathed quietly.

“You guess so, sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

He pointed behind himself towards the desk. “Well, I wouldn’t want to think I’ve been going easy on you.”

“No, sir,” I agreed almost inaudibly.

He stepped aside and I moved to the desk on trembling legs, unsure if I was embarrassed or afraid or helplessly turned on. The answer was undeniably all three at once. I could feel the heat in my body. A little dribble of wetness escaped my hot folds and seeped into the fabric of my panties.

I put my hands out to feel the smooth, cold surface of the desk and shuffled my feet back a little to bend over. But it seemed he was serious, and had no interest in my faltering half-measures. He put a strong hand on my hip and pushed me back and out until I was bent far over at the waist, my ass thrust out and my head between my arms. My breath felt high and tight in my chest as I stared down at the floor.

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Spanking the Teacher’s Pet

Amanda might be used to getting her way, but soon the would-be bully is going to find out she likes getting pushed up against a desk and learning some manners, too.

Amanda’s discovered a dirty little secret about one of her classmates, and she thinks her victim will do anything to keep it quiet. But as soon as she puts her scheme into action, the whole thing backfires. Now she’s been asked to stay after class by a professor who’s more than willing to put a student like her in her place.

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, a mature well-hung professor, a young inexperienced student, multiple partners and rough group sex, dominance and submissiveness. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

He spanked me again. “You’ve been forgetting to count,” he chided me.

“S – sorry, sir,” I moaned.

His hand traced up the inside of my thigh. I gasped as it caressed over my hot, swollen lips. He paused, and retraced his steps with teasing fingers. I screwed my eyes shut and bit my lip to keep from making a sound as I buried my face in my arm. But even that wasn’t enough to stifle my gasp of amazement and ecstasy as he slid a finger into my wet hole. It slipped in easily. God I was so wet.

“Well,” he said, dominating my thoughts with his stroking finger, “I guess you’re getting a little distracted. You seem to like being called a bad girl.”

I couldn’t answer. I was grinding my hips back into his hand, only aware of how good it felt. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting this and more.

“You like being taught a few manners,” he went on. “Tell me you do.”

“I – like it, sir,” I gasped.

“You like getting it rough.”

“Yes, sir. Ohhh fuck!” I pressed my face harder into my arm, trying not to give in to the writhing pleasure inside me. It was too much. How on earth could I think straight?

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Caught in Class

Katie used to think Professor Wilkins was a nice guy. He’s young for a college professor and mouthwateringly handsome. The girls in her class joke about staying after for extra attention. But when he catches Katie copying off another student, she finds out in a hurry that being on his bad side can be intense.

He’s not shy about showing the pretty nineteen year old who’s boss in more ways than one. And when his methods make a big impression on her, another professor wants to help take the inexperienced young woman to her full potential …

That’s what college is about, right?

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, mature older professors and their young inexperienced student, forbidden lust, unprotected first time sex, rough group menage, dominance and submissiveness. All characters are 18 or older.

Excerpt:

Her tits and clit felt full and sensitive for the rest of the day, and the moment she was back at her dorm before dinner, she had to indulge herself again. The memory of that hungry, dominant gaze of Professor Wilkins – the way his eyes over her body with an undisguised look of ownership – was enough to get her instantly wet.

She had never thought of herself as obsessed with sex, but suddenly it was always on her mind. She couldn’t remember for the life of her what Mr. Wilkins had been trying to teach her. She just knew that she wanted more of something she should absolutely, positively not want more of. It was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to have enjoyed it, was she? It was supposed to have chastened her, but instead it made her voracious.

Professor Wilkins, it turned out, had no intention of letting her off so easily. At the next class after their little session together, he had told her he expected her back at the end of each day to clean up the classroom.

It was almost torture: reporting to his classroom knowing what had happened there, and instead spend the half an hour or more just picking up pieces of paper, scrubbing desks, and emptying trash. Professor Wilkins was usually working at his desk, keeping a casual eye on her as she worked. Being alone with him was now an intense experience for her, and she finished each little cleaning session as wet and horny as she had ever been before the older man had unleashed this side of her.

It was only a matter of time before her distractions took their toll in her other coursework. It was two weeks after this had all started that Professor Lancaster asked her to stay back to talk to him about her recent statistics exam.

Needless to say, Katie, scoring a 57 on a major exam is not the way to a decent grade in my class, he concluded.

Oh please, Professor, isn’t there something I could do for a bit of extra credit? she begged.

He considered it. In the past, I’ve been lenient on students who show me a real desire to improve. Tests from earlier in the year can be weighted less if you really commit yourself to learning the material. How about we schedule a couple study sessions to see if we can’t get you back on track and take it from there?

Inwardly she groaned. More time pretending to care about statistics? But outwardly she beamed and smiled. Oh thank you, Professor, she said. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. Maybe there would be a way to project enthusiasm without having to waste time on these extra sessions.

So when Professor Lancaster offered to meet with her on Wednesday, she explained with exaggerated regret that she was going to be working with Professor Wilkins that afternoon.

It was a convenient excuse, and it seemed Professor Lancaster would take it at face value. Over the next week or so he offered several more times they might meet to help her improve, but each time she had to say with great disappointment that Professor Wilkins had her working a lot of projects just now – in fact it was probably why she hadn’t been able to study for the statistics exam – and she just couldn’t meet then.

It seemed like there was only so long before Professor Lancaster would give up. After all, she was only one of almost a hundred students.

But Professor Lancaster was a very generous man who cared about his students, and he hated to see any of them fall through the cracks. On the other hand, he was certainly not a fool. He was in his late thirties, sharp, intense, and popular. And when something seemed strange to him, he got to the bottom of it.

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