Naughty Baby by Lizbeth Dusseau
Claire Lawrence is a successful advertising executive who’s having a kinky affair with her boss, Tate. When the two get caught, Claire’s out of a job and her entire career is seriously threatened by Tate’s vengeful wife.
In the wake of her humiliating dismissal, she reluctantly agrees to a first face-to-face encounter with an internet acquaintance: ‘MasterInDisguise’. He’s authored dozens of sizzling sex stories she’s posted to her erotic website. For the past year, the two have emailed back and forth. She is immediately shocked to learn that MasterInDisguise is actually Patrick Helms, the well-known author of suspense novels, with a high public profile and a matinee idol face. Patrick could be all she’s ever wanted in a Dominant. However, there’s a huge portion of her life that Claire has never disclosed—including the dangerous boyfriend who, ten years before, introduced the eighteen year old Claire to S&M and his shady lifestyle. Though she’s determined to keep these facts a secret, when she’s chronically late for their dates, Patrick suspects she’s trying to sabotage the relationship. The explosive confrontation that ensues ends with her standing in the corner like a punished child—her ass blistered red and her sexual arousal sky high. Once he establishes his domination over her, the star-crossed Claire cannot help but surrender to this sexy Dom. As their relationship heats up, she willingly submits to him in public places, before his friends, in back alleys, wherever he demands her compliance. Though she may shudder with embarrassment, with every act of submission, Claire fulfills another of her darkest fantasies. She has more than she ever hoped for in this remarkable man. If only she could keep her past a secret.
A hot BDSM romance with bondage, submissive training and some interracial and lesbian content.
There was little unique about the next half hour except for the fact that the cane was wielded by her vicious majesty and not the glowering man on the side of the room. I imagined him trying to justify to himself the debacle he was there to witness. That was apparently punishment enough for him. Of course, I wouldn’t know what prices LuAnn would extract from her cheating husband later. He actually looked annoyed. “Let’s get the fucking thing over,” he would have blurted out if he’d had the courage.
Stripped of my clothes and my dignity, I went over the front of Tate’s desk as I had so many times for him. Seconds later, the bitch’s real fury began to fly.
I expected a simple strapping, paddling, caning, whipping sort of punishment, and that is exactly what I received. She bruised my ass in less than three minutes time with an erratically twisting leather strap that left welts as deep as the ones she laid on later with the cane. She saved the most tender flesh for that vile bamboo rod, delivering a series of painful cuts to the back of my upper thighs. I didn’t dare howl, but I wasn’t exactly silent either. When I got too noisy to suit her, she came on me, yanking my head back by the hair and pulling it far enough so she could slap my face. After that stinging smack, she squeezed my chin between her manicured nails and spewed more venom. “The more you protest, bitch, the more you inspire me. So keep it up, keep squawking, keep making your play for my sympathies. It’s really a delight to hear you whimper. Too bad there’s not a sympathetic bone in my body, none for you at least.” I expected that she’d shove me back down and get on with the business of ravaging my ass, instead, she swiveled to the left with my hair still clutched inside her fist and pushed forward with enough force to propel me over the back of the leather loveseat, which was on the window side of Tate’s desk. I tried to resist, but her hold on me was firm.
“You think I’m done with you? I’m just getting started.”
The positioning on the couch was no accident. If I looked up, my eyes landed squarely on Tate’s weary face. He’d given up the uncomfortable nearness of his desk, retreating to the farthest corner of the room where I suppose he assumed he could safely wait out my ordeal without getting involved. But LuAnn had no intention of letting her cheating husband off so easy. Nor would my suffering be as simple as a well-caned ass.
Over the back of the couch forced my body into a more strenuous bend, accentuating my ass cheeks, my quivering thighs and total vulnerability. Tapping her cane against my behind, she forced me to slide even further forward until my toes finally lifted off the floor. I grabbed hold of the front of the seat in order not to slide forward to the floor. Then I waited as the woman made up her mind what she’d do next. She began my second round of punishment with a dozen sharp smacks of a wooden paddle. As hard as these were, I worried that I’d never survive to see the finish. Following the paddle was a riding crop, delivering blows in a purposely erratic manner that had the tail whipping around my side and cutting into the most tender skin. Once she’d had her fill of that, a flogger laced my backside from my shoulders to the back of my knees. She practically had to climb over my ass to reach my shoulders with her weapon. Then with a suddenness that left me breathless, she pulled off of me and a second later I heard a dreadful whizzing sound, which was quickly followed by a searing heat burned into the scorched flesh of my ass.
I didn’t realize until that moment that my brief stint over the desk was just her way to warm me up, although she’d done nothing in that time to prepare me for the full force of her anger vented on my defenseless body.
It seemed for minutes at a time I’d zone out only to be awakened by the sudden and exhilarating pain of another vicious attack. My grunts and whelps were soon reduced to a constant, steady sobbing. By the time I realized that, I was unable to contain myself. She’d taken me down. There was nowhere left to go; no place, not even in the deep recesses of my own psyche was there a place where I could hide.
LuAnn stopped her attack abruptly, and only in the moment of calm that followed was I able to understand why she was so quick to quit the punishment. Having seen the drizzle of sex juice sliding down my inner thigh, she had the satisfaction she needed. I could feel her gloating eyes as they stared directly between my legs. What triumph she must have felt realizing that she would get a whole lot more from me than she ever hoped. Her fondest dreams must have been realized in that moment.
I waited to hear the cackle, but a smoother, more melodious voice was there to greet me when I came to from a brief retreat into the realm of my inner world.
Was I making her horny? I wondered as I felt the palm of her hand graze my wounded behind. I could feel the welts as the touch of her hand released waves and waves of erotic heat. Soon, I was wiggling my pussy against the cushion enough for any eye to grasp what I was doing.
Thwack! Something struck my ass, I’m not sure what, but it was enough to make me howl.
“The pleasure is all mine today, harlot,” I heard her say. “I’m not done with you, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you get any satisfaction from my abuse of you. She backed me off the couch enough so that my feet could touch the floor again. Then she pulled me up, clamped my nipples with clothespins, and pushed me back over the thick cushion. The pinched buds might have been bearable as they were, but with them pressed against the leather couch, pain was unavoidable—ceaseless, throbbing, unavoidable harm had come to me in the form of this lady viper. If the clothespins weren’t enough evidence of her sadistic character, then the thick black strapped-on dildo she shoved in my cunt was. I gazed back just before she entered me, shocked to see the leather crotch piece and the fat silicone prick. She seemed so comfortable as the witchy female Domme that I had to wonder, in my one split second of clarity, if fucking females—or males—was a regular practice for her. My body should have seized up in panic at the sight of her, but my own arousal was already too engaged to stop. I could have come, I swear I would have—if it hadn’t been for those silly wooden clothespins grabbing at my nipples.
“Please, this has to stop!” I shrieked. The pain practically punched me in the gut.
“Sure, slut, when it suits me,” was her reply.
Thankfully, the pain eased some and I could manage. LuAnn went on with her rape until she wore me out and I was about to collapse into a heap of tears. I felt her body stiffen behind me, and her mewling cry rose up beyond the noisy chaos in my mind.
Cover Image © George Mayer IStock.com