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Memoirs of a Sex Toy - eBook

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Memoirs of a Sex Toy by Lizbeth Dusseau

Coed Chelsea McLinden begins freshman year feeling lost, alone and vulnerable to the attentions of a ne’er-do-well grad student Denny, who lives on the third floor of her boarding house. Though she’s quick to jump into bed with this handsome charmer, it is his roommate, the intense and brooding Maximus, who soon draws her attention. With an uncanny grasp of Chelsea’s true nature as a sexual submissive, he begins a slow seduction that taps a wellspring of depraved fantasies that she’s kept hidden—even from herself.

Chelsea relents to Max’s powerful allure, falling easily into the role of dutiful sex slave, at his beck and call for whatever sexual depravity he conceives. By sophomore year, the naked presence of a caged and collared coed in the third floor apartment is no longer a surprise to Max’s roommates and his friends. She’s become ‘community property’, shared by anyone who wants her. She follows stringent rules, endures harsh bondage, and suffers cruel punishment when she disobeys. Soon, she’s turned into a sexual exhibitionist, willing to shed her clothes for outrageous and sometimes very public sex Maximus demands of her.

However, the depravity of Chelsea’s college years abruptly ends one night after graduation, when a desperate Denny tries to give her to a foreign businessman to pay off a gambling debt. The harrowing ordeal ends with Max’s rescuing her from a horrific fate, but the traumatized Chelsea hastily cuts her ties with Max and takes off.

For the next fifteen years, Chelsea moves from one failed D/s relationship to another, while she secretly hungers for her old life. Though she yearns to make amends with her former master, he’s become a wealthy businessman and is inaccessible to her. The only way to reach him involves a dangerous foray onto his private property. While taking an enormous risk to confront her former master, Chelsea has no idea what will happen when they finally meet face to face. Will he take her back after all these years, or throw her out?


Not more than two hundred yards into the most savage terrain on his hundred acre property he found Jax and Pen fitfully circling their target.
“Back off,” he motioned to the dogs, then stepped forward to confront the crouching form huddled in a thicket of pine needles and thorny brambles. He appeared in no hurry to get his business finished; in fact, the slight amusement Travis earlier noted when his boss first saw the image of the intruder on the video screen had returned to Maximus’ face.
The crouching female was dressed entirely in black: knit stocking cap, turtleneck sweater and rugged pants—as if she knew the kind of terrain she’d confront once she crossed the fence. They might not have been able to determine her sex if they hadn’t caught a glimpse of her face, but just one brief glance at her feminine features and that aspect of her identity became quite obvious.
Maximus took a moment to circle the female; and although she initially refused to look up, he seemed so calm and unruffled by the woman one would wonder if he actually knew her. If he did, however, he gave no clear indication of that fact.
He did say with a sarcastic twist: “You might have walked to the gate and announced your presence.” Reaching down, he grabbed the stocking cap and pulled it free, allowing a cascade of brunette hair to fall free around the woman’s shoulders. For one brief moment, she glanced up, then she immediately turned away when she caught Maximus’ imperious stare, and remained huddled on the ground.
Maximus turned to the caretaker. “You brought rope?” The coiled rope thrown over his shoulder was obvious to them both. “Tie her hands behind her and we’ll take her back to the house.” Then he stepped back, while Travis moved in behind her and reached for her arms. Suddenly, the quaking female came back to life and her arms flung wide as she violently wrenched from the man’s grasp. She jumped forward like a rabbit and started into the woods moving with surprising agility. Though they were taken off guard, the dogs moved swiftly and halted her progress, nipping at her ankles until she stumbled into a tree. Travis was on her again seconds later.
The mood of the two men had morphed from curious to grim, any amusement now gone. The caretaker wasted little effort in securing the female’s arms behind her back, then he threw a rope over her head and drew it tight to her neck.
“You made a mistake coming here,” he sounded off, his gravelly voice was filled with warning. “Better you come with me nice and easy or else I’ll tie you to a tree and whip your sorry ass.”
With Jax and Pen on either side of her, and Travis directly in front holding the end of the rope like a leash, she was steered through the woods and toward the house. Maximus had taken off first and continued at a steady clip a few yards in front. When the party finally came within sight of the house, he turned on his heel.
“String her up in the barn, I’ll attend to her as soon as I have the time. And use plenty of rope, I don’t want this one getting away.” As if there was a chance that any intruder could slip Travis’ grasp.
“Yes, sir, I’ll take care of it.”
Maximus nodded and was gone, while Travis continued with the female until they reached a large grey barn located just past the house. While keeping her hands tied behind her, he bound her with a long length of rope into a simple tie that started at her shoulders, threaded through her crotch, wound around her torso above and below her breasts, then continued further downward to her waist and hips. Once that was complete, he untied her hands from behind and retied them in front. Lifting them high, he secured them to a heavy hook that had been screwed into one of the barn’s main support posts. The thick timbers were rough hewn and attached with iron bolts to the roof trestles in the open ceiling. Although he didn’t bind her tight against the post, he anchored both her ankles and knees to the tall beam with short lengths of rope. She could move a bit, but she wouldn’t be thrashing about.
“You have anything to say, better say it now,” was the only comment from the unflappable caretaker—as if he’d been through the routine a hundred times. When the intruder didn’t make a peep, he pulled a ballgag from a canvas bag and stuffed it into the brunette’s mouth, right past her full pink lips. Then he tied the connecting leather straps at the back of her head so it was securely in place.
She groaned a bit, and there was a pained grimace on her pretty face—the first signs of discomfort—but these he ignored. Her chest heaved with every breath, voluptuous and erotic, but he ignored that too, even though the activity of binding a beautiful woman stirred a feral warmth inside his crotch.

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Product Reviews

  1. Posted by Unknown on 23rd Apr 2010

    Memoirs of a Sex Toy by Lizbeth Dusseau
    Reviewed by Tobias Tanner

    The title simply does not do justice to the newest novel from the prolific hand of Lizbeth Dusseau. Her protagonist is often played with, but entirely too formidable to be considered a mere toy. She is bound, battered and beaten, but never broken and never, ever cast aside. Like most of Dusseau’s ladies, Chelsea is a submissive. Not weak or passive, mind you…submissive. There’s a difference.

    This is the story of a young woman with a natural bent toward compliance. There is plenty of that to be found here. Plenty of everything, come to think of it. It begins near the end, but don’t let that stop you. Right after that is the beginning, and in the end is another sort of beginning, which isn’t nearly as confusing as it sounds. I’m sorry if that sounds cryptic, but you’ll see what I mean.

    Be prepared for submission in escalating waves as Chelsea is taught, and learns, how to be the submissive she wants and needs to be. Her master drives her straight into her own deepest and most secret desires. There is sex, all kinds of sex, any way you can think of, and some you might not have thought of. There are floggings and spankings, ropes and chains, piercing, anal sex, multiple partners, double penetrations, rapes, humiliation (both public and private) and ultimately, betrayal, which is the greatest rape of all.

    Chelsea copes with some things better than others. She’s a very bright girl, after all. Sometimes, the need to run away is a primal, irresistible urge. But she can’t stay away. Her natural state is submission, and she can’t hide from that, even when she wants to.

    One way or another, that is true of everyone. Our problems and kinks may be different, but the questions are always the same. Let Dusseau answer some of those questions for you. She has a way of making us think about things, even as her characters do, and what comes out is way beyond mere prurient content, way beyond mere salaciousness. What comes out is reality. There is no judgment in it, or regret, or apology. It’s just the way of things.

    Not to mention, it’s great fun, as usual.

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