Needing The Whip: Tales of Female Surrender by Reese Gabriel
Exciting New BSDM Erotica from Best-selling author Reese Gabriel! Sizzling tales of four beautiful women forced to confront their desires for pain, humiliation and submissive sex.
In Community Property shy Aliya's submissive secrets are kept safe in a journal, until a group of sadistic house breakers discover the hiding Aliya and her damning journal. Now she has no choice but to act out her desires and follow her captors' every command...leading to some surprising results. Next, in What She Wants, Cassie's husband is home from the war and he has a very special plan to turn his loving wife into the perfect slut.
Then it looks like it will soon be Two Masters for Myla. This saucy brat likes to dabble in BDSM with her live in boyfriend, but it's just a game to her. When she starts toying with their mysterious new roommate, Myla soon learns that she's no longer in charge! Finally, in Running Charmaine, Charmaine is a bored housewife who secretly desires to submit to a man. When her daughter's rough new boyfriend hits on the truth, he intends to make her his, or else he'll take charge of her daughter instead. Charmaine has no choice but to do exactly as he says.
Sure to be another Reese Gabriel classic! Contains female submissive training, corporal punishment, cages, collars, bondage, tight confinement, control, kidnapping, some sex, coercion, willing abasement, humiliation and exhibitionism.
Presently he was standing behind her.
She whisked the eggs as he cupped and fondled her breasts.
“Mine,” he hissed in her ear.
His cock was rock hard, pushing against the crotch of his pants.
“Oh god, baby,” she moaned.
Dale turned her to face him and took her mouth, pushing his tongue deep inside her. His teeth were bruising against her lips. She was breathless.
A master’s prerogative, he had her forget the eggs and lifted her up onto the counter.
Her legs splayed wide.
He moved his hand inside her, fingers fucking her furiously.
“Not yet,” he answered the silent, begging question in her eyes.
Cassie gritted her teeth, forbidden to come.
This time he didn’t suckle her nipples, he bit them.
Dale continued to masturbate her, punishing her with sex, using her body as a template for his powerful, too long thwarted masculine desires.
Oh, god, she needed his cock.
“F—fuck me, Dale, god damn it!”
Dale slapped her face, inducing a quick, heartfelt apology for her tone of voice, and the swearing, too.
Her sorrow came too late.
The game was over as abruptly as it began. Removing his fingers from her pussy he made her lick them thoroughly.
“Go stand in the corner,” he ordered.
Cassie choked back sobs and went to the living room, taking her place. No matter what he did to her now mattered nothing compared to the pain of having disappointed him. Barely able to breathe, finding the familiar corner, she pressed herself, breasts squashed, forehead pressed, ass exposed.
Some time later he came to her. She whimpered slightly, knowing he was there and yet not being able to see him or what he might do. She wanted to beg him to punish her, to give her a fresh chance.
Eventually he ordered her to turn around. He was wearing his bathrobe and nothing else. Snapping his fingers he signaled her to open her mouth and take the whip between her teeth.
“Down,” he said.
Cassie went to her knees, spreading them as soon as they hit the floor.
More waiting, the master watching the slave, gauging her readiness.
“Over the couch,” he commanded finally.
It was a serious beating position, belly over the soft arm, legs wide, standing on tiptoes, palms down.
He ran the tip of the camel whip up and down her thighs, pausing to caress her female crack.
“Did you tease anyone while I was gone?” he asked. “Tempt anyone with this little body of mine?”
“I—I tried not to.”
She was a slut, they both knew it. She needed discipline. She needed…this.
Dale cracked the whip hard across her buttocks, oh god, it hurt.
“What do you say?”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“This whip is for animals,” he explained. “Animals and wives.”
The whip found her inner thighs next. She screamed, digging her nails into the sofa.
“After this you’ll give me your ass,” he said.
“My ass,” she repeated, affirming her impending usage. Before their relationship had turned BDSM, Cassie had never liked anal intercourse. Now she craved it as a sign of his power. It was what he wanted, what he took as his mark of possession.
The whip continued to ravage her, kissing her sweating skin with the cruelty of a pain-intending lover.
When he’d marked her enough he made her beg for what was next.
“Fuck my ass, Sir, come inside it. Show me what I am.”
“You’re my bitch,” said Dale working his finger in and out of her tight anus.
“Yes,” she grunted, writhing up and down.
He slapped her red hot ass, stilling her for the moment.
“You don’t fucking move without permission.”
Her breath was shallow, coming in short stabs through her riven body. “Please, please, please, please.”
“Over here.” He helped her up and moved her into a fresh position, this time on the floor, ass in the air, cheek to the carpet, breasts pressed to knees.
He had the lubricant ready, a little bit of slippery, cold grease to ease his way into her tight, hot channel. Pressing his cock against her, lining himself up, he pressed himself inside her, one inch and then another.
“That’s it my love, give it up for me.”
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