Quickies 2

Quickies 2
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ISBN:  9781780804132
Author:  Becky Bell
Word Count:  21,381
Format:  eBook

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Quickies 1Quickies 1
Quickies 3Quickies 3
Perfect SlavePerfect Slave
Perfect Slave AbroadPerfect Slave Abroad
The DominatrixThe Dominatrix

She fastened a leather collar around my neck. A chain leash was attached to it, and dangled between my breasts. Then she picked up a rubber hood and pulled it over my head, carefully threading my long blonde hair through a hole in the back before pulling it right down over my face, plunging me into total darkness. There was a hole for my mouth and little holes for my nostrils, but otherwise my head was encased in tight black rubber.
   I felt her pick up the leash and tug on it. 'Follow me.'

Variety is the spice of life, and there's certainly spice in the range of sexual adventures in these BDSM short stories. Slaves of both sexes are disciplined and bound, whipped and humiliated and made to perform all sorts of kinky acts for the pleasures of their masters and mistresses.

But it's not all bondage, discipline, submission and domination. Men and women indulging in bisexuality, cross-dressing, threesomes, swinging foursomes, bukkake, strict corporal punishment and rubber fetishism are all featured in these stories by Becky Bell, one of the most successful writers in the field of erotic fiction.

Finally I rang the doorbell of a large country house. The first surprise I got was the woman who answered the door. She was dressed like a caricature of a French maid, in a black satin dress with a short skirt, a lacy apron and the most amazing white froufrou petticoats. She told me I was expected and led me through the house to a small study with a large desk and an open fire. I was left alone.
   And that's when I got my second surprise.
   There was a large oil painting above the mantelpiece. It was of a naked girl with proud breasts and flowing black hair. It was beautifully painted, so the texture of her skin and hair were almost lifelike, as was the way the artist had depicted her buttocks, unmistakably reddened and marked by a whip. She was kneeling on the floor with her head bowed and her hands bound behind her back with rope. Standing beside her was a tall man in a burgundy robe. His face was partly hidden by the fact he was looking down at the girl. He was holding a riding crop in his right hand. The picture struck me deeply, as if the artist had understood my deepest needs. The attitude of the girl was the perfect submissiveness I had fantasised about.
   A man entered the study. He was tall and dark, in his early fifties, with dark brown eyes. 'I'm Oliver Ridley,' he said. 'Thank you for coming.'
   He'd caught me staring at the painting and I felt myself blush. There was little doubt in my mind that the man in the painting and Oliver Ridley were one and the same person.
   'A lovely picture, don't you think?' he said.
   'Um... y-yes...' I stammered.
   He sat down at the desk and I handed him the papers. As I witnessed his signature I noticed that lying at the top of the old leather-lined ink blotter was a whip with a silver pommel, exactly the same as the one in the picture. Looking at it made my heart race. I put the papers back into my briefcase.
   'Can I get you a drink before you go back?'
   'No thanks, I'm driving.'
   I walked to the door, then hesitated. I could have walked out of there, got into my car and driven away, but something held me back. 'Would... would you mind if I asked you a question?' I said nervously.
   'Of course not, my dear,' he said. He stood by the roaring log fire.
   'What is the whip for?'
   He smiled. 'I think you know that, don't you?'
   'I'm sorry?'
   'Lynne,' he called me by my first name, 'you're a submissive, aren't you? I can always tell.'
   I felt myself blushing again. He walked over to me, raised his hand and touched my cheek. It was as if he'd touched my clitoris. My whole body trembled.
   'It's perfectly all right. Now go home to your Master.'
   'I don't have a Master,' I managed to say, despite the fact it felt as if my heart was in my mouth.
   'Really?' He looked surprised. 'That must be very... frustrating, for you. So you've never explored your submissive side?'
   'No.'
   'Do you want to?'
   'I don't know.'
   'As you see,' he glanced up to the painting, 'I have a certain expertise in such matters. Are you capable of being completely obedient?'
   I could hear my heart beating against my chest. I simply didn't know what to say. All my fantasies could come true if I let them. I couldn't imagine ever getting another chance like this.
   'Yes,' I said, as firmly as I could.
   'That's very good. I think you are too. In fact, I think you're a natural. I can always tell. Now go to the desk and bring me my whip.'
   I did exactly as I was told, intensely aware that the crotch of my panties had worked up against my clitoris, which was throbbing madly. I handed him the whip.
   'You must not speak unless you are asked a question. And you must always address me as Master. Do you understand?'
   'Yes... yes, Master,' I repeated. Saying the word out loud made me shudder. I'd said it so many times in my head while I masturbated.
   'Good. Now follow me.' He led me out of the room and up the stairs of the old house. There was a door to the left of the landing on the first floor. It creaked as it opened. He led me inside. It was a plain room decorated in dark green. A large wooden chair with arms and a double bed were the only furniture. The mattress of the bed was upholstered in black leather.
   'Are you sure you don't want to leave?'
   'No,' I said decisively. 'No, Master,' I added quickly.
   'I'm going to blindfold you now. Turn around.'
   I obeyed. I wanted to do nothing but obey. I was completely in his spell and had never felt so excited. As the cold black silk pressed against my eyes I felt my nipples pucker. He tied the silk tight so it pressed against my eyes and made it impossible for me to see anything.
   'Now pull your skirt up, spread your legs apart, bend over and grasp your ankles.'

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