This is the third part of my darkly erotic short story, Audience for the Marionette’, which is included in Can You See Me?, my book(read more…)
I hope, if you have been celebrating Christmas, that you have been having a great time! Having prepared several Christmas buffet teas in a row,(read more…)
Not that I’m food-obsessed or anything, but there’s a bit of a theme to this post… I am delighted to tell you that my paranormal(read more…)
I have been wanting to write this post for a while now, and I am finally thrilled to do so. This interview is with an(read more…)
The #WickedWednesday prompt this week caught my eye: Vintage Art. I love art in a big way, so set out perusing way too many vintage(read more…)
It’s a long holiday weekend here in the UK, so I have decided to celebrate by making some of my work FREE on Amazon, for(read more…)
A while ago, when I wrote about Bittersweet Eros, I promised another blog post on my two favourite spanking authors. This second part is about one(read more…)
“I am Master. There’s nothing level about our time here in this hotel, unless I want there to be. You will do as you’re told. Beginning now.” He clamps his mouth over mine, his finger still in place, kisses hard as he slides his finger out of my mouth and down my neck. As one of the other men presses the button with a sense of urgency, and the lift clunks and rattles down towards us, he reaches to my collar and undoes his tie. Why has he taken me off the leash? Are each of the men wondering? Each of them is watching, and I know they’ve all heard what he said to me. The lift is nearly at the ground floor, and I turn to face the door, ready. He pulls my head back to face him.
“Look at me. Stay still.”
I look into his eyes, and they are smouldering grey-blue, and his cock is pushing at the zip on his trousers. He has his tie in his hand, and he slips it round my neck just above the collar and ties it in a slip knot.
“Be a good girl, or it will pull tight.”
I know the men are watching and I’m wet. I can feel it in the place where my knickers should be, as I stand there with my slave collar round my neck, and I find myself smirking. It’s a stupid thing to do, and I don’t know what possesses me. Maybe it’s because I know there are others there that I think I’m safe if I push at the boundaries.
“I may not be a good girl.” The men are all bulging in their trousers, even though two of them are pretending they’re not looking or taking any notice of what he’s done to me.