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Spanking A to Z — F is for The Firefighter’s Girl #Spank A2Z

June 13, 2014 By Trent Evans

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F is for The Firefighter’s Girl

 

Hey, hey, you pervs — minds out of the gutter. You thought I was going to do this post on that word, didn’t you? How dare you? 😉

My previous posts have been touching on such subjects as anticipation, embarrassment, and of course spanking, so it made perfect sense to feature an excerpt from a book that incorporates those same concepts. Natasha Knight needs no introduction among fans of spanking and D/s fiction — to read her stuff is to become a fan. Her latest release, The Firefighter’s Girl, is a perfect example of how to do spanking and D/s so right, and in my opinion, it may be her hottest book yet.

I’ll shut up now and get to the excerpt. As we join the scene, the heroine, Rebecca, is about to undergo the first part of a harsh three part punishment, due to a day in court that didn’t go quite the way her strict beau, Sawyer, thought it would…

* * * *

Sawyer picked up the root and returned his attention to her bottom. What happened today was a big deal. A very big deal. He didn’t feel angry with her although he had for a moment. He could understand her embarrassment at not knowing how to tell him, but this was the rest of her life they were talking about. Too much was at stake to allow embarrassment to render her mute.

He spread her bottom cheeks to expose her puckered back hole. She instinctively clenched and he waited as she softened to accept her punishment. Ginger inside her bottom would be embarrassing in and of itself, but the way he intended to have her hold it there was going to be worse. He wondered how she would react to the heat of the root as he instructed her to clench and unclench her bottom, squeezing the juices from it.

Drops of cold water from the ginger dripped onto her pale flesh. Sawyer ran a finger over her hole, then tapped against it twice. She clenched again, and when she released, he brought the tip of the ginger root he had carved into the shape of a butt plug to her back hole. No lubricant, the ginger would release its own juices to act as such and any lubricant could render those juices useless.

“You know how to take this inside you. You can help yourself here by pushing against it or I can force it in. I’d rather not do the latter.”

“Yes, sir,” she said while she pushed up slightly onto her knees and lifted her ass higher. He pressed against her back hole and although she resisted at first, slowly, very slowly, she began to open for him and he began to maneuver the root into place, taking his time, moving slowly, allowing the juices of the root to begin to do their work as he pushed in and pulled out again and again until all two inches were seated inside her and her muscles closed around the base.

“There,” he said. “It’s in. Lie back down and clench your bottom for me now.”

She did as he said.

“Good, hold your cheeks tight while I wash my hands.” He would have her squeeze the root to press the stinging juice from it. He heard her begin to mewl as he finished up washing his hands and when he came back to her, he saw her softening and clenching her bottom again and again.

“It’s working, I think?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, sir. It burns.”

He smiled. “Good. Hold it a little longer,” he said when she relaxed her bottom. “Squeeze tight, Rebecca.” He waited while she did, watching as she struggled, lifting her head and groaning. “All right, relax now,” he said, touching the ginger, turning it a little. “I’ll begin with your spanking soon. For now, lie there and think about how you look to me, exposed and ashamed, just like you were in court today because you neglected to tell us the whole truth.”

She hid her face in her hands. “Yes, sir.”

* * * *

If you thought that excerpt was smokin’, then you’ve got no idea what else you’re in for. It’s just the start, and it gets much, much hotter from here:) If you haven’t yet read this book, stop reading right now — and go buy it!

You need to read this thing ... like now.
You need to read this thing … like now.
When twenty-eight-year-old Rebecca Banks learns that her next physical therapy patient is none other than Sawyer Hayes, she stays professional, but deep down she can’t help but panic. She hasn’t seen Sawyer for ten years, and their last meeting ended with him giving her a spanking she would never forget. Now Sawyer is the fire chief in the small town that has become her home, and it is an injury sustained in the line of duty which has brought him back into her life.
Even as he works hard on his recovery, Sawyer’s mind is on something else—repairing Rebecca’s trust in him. When her deadbeat boyfriend and his family implicate her in a serious crime and she’s sent to the local jailhouse to await trial, Sawyer pays her bail and brings her home with him under the condition that she obeys him… and that disobedience will have consequences.
Rebecca agrees, but when she defies her self-appointed guardian she soon finds that a hard, bare-bottom spanking is far from the most embarrassing punishment Sawyer is prepared to employ. Though Sawyer’s punishments leave her with cheeks blushing as red as her well-spanked bottom, they also ignite feelings and desires she never knew she had, and soon his fierce need to dominate and lead her is matched by her growing need to obey him.
Rebecca and Sawyer’s new found romance grows quickly, but the stress of preparing for her upcoming trial continues to build and she fears the verdict will send her to prison. Can her firm-handed firefighter protect her, or will she be torn from his loving arms?
Publisher’s Note: The Firefighter’s Girl is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, anal play, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Purchase Links:

Amazon

Amazon UK

Amazon DE

Nook

All Romance

Thanks for letting me feature this book, Natasha! Now, kind readers, I hope you’ll take some time to visit some of he other stops on this month’s Blog Challenge. Have fun!

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Filed Under: Spanking A-Z Blog Challenge Tagged With: BDSM fiction excerpt, D/s, erotic romance, figging, Natasha Knight, spanking, The Firefighter's Girl

Welcome to Spanking A-Z — A is for Anticipation

June 1, 2014 By Trent Evans

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Welcome to the Spanking A to Z Blog Challenge, presented by Spanking Romance Reviews and the wonderful Celeste Jones.

For the entire month of June, some insanely talented bloggers and writers will be presenting a post for 26 straight days, for each letter of the alphabet. Will all of their posts be related to spanking? Maybe, maybe not. But rest assured, my fellow pervs and spankos, here at TEL, you can bet your sweet asses that every single post here is going to be spanking, or BDSM related:)

Why else come here, amirite?

A is for Anticipation

Right After Dinner...
Was it the food??

It’s one of those indefinable things related to spanking and BDSM that adds so much. We rarely think of anticipation as its own thing, the same way we rarely notice we’re breathing — and yet its importance cannot be overstated.

How much of what we pervs and spankos do and love is in our own heads, and how much of what goes on in our heads affects what happens here in the physical world? Anticipation is one of the manifestations of the psychology of what we do and love. It can make things so much sweeter, and yet so much scarier — or perhaps it’s a confusing, exciting mixture of the two?

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A subtle message from the little lady…

 

Those of us on the “giving” end of the spanking/BDSM equation anticipate things just as much (and maybe more) as the wonderful subs we’re so fixated upon. Sure we try to play the aloof, strict disciplinarian, but inside we’re a riot of joy, second-guessing, lust, doubt, dark fantasies, you name it — we just have to hide it 🙂

Anticipation in its myriad forms brings so much to spanking, and to kink in general. How would it ever be the same without it? Rather than list all the ways it adds its own spice, showing sometimes works better …

* * * *

— A young newlywed, freshly moved into the couple’s first home, discovers a tattered, dog-eared little white book in her new husband’s drawer. It opens almost by itself to all the favorite scenes. On the cover she sees the simple O. A morning of breathless reading later, a text shows up on her dear husband’s phone. He picks it up, stuck in yet another meeting at work, yet another day away from his beautiful wife. He reads the text, his mouth dry, and his cock instantly hard. He drops his pen on the floor, the other people in the room ceasing to exist, meaningless.

“Will you please be my Sir Stephen?”

* * * *

— Sunday was the longest day of the week — and the sweetest. All day she’d think about it, what came every Sunday evening. Her weekly “settling of accounts” as he liked to call it. How many would it be? With what? Would he draw it out — for her pleasure and his? Now, as she stood naked in that corner, her hands laced together behind her head, the heat from the popping fire warming her skin, even across the room, she still wondered. He liked to sit in that chair, not saying a word, every rustle of the paper making her jump. She could feel his heated gaze upon her naked bottom, the trembling thighs, the way her unruly curls tumbled down her bare back. How long would he make her wait, her nose pressed to that quiet, boring corner? It might be five minutes, it might be thirty. And the wait always ended the same way.

“Come over here, girl.”

* * * *

— He made sure I could see each item as he set it down neatly on the mattress next to my head.

First, it was the tan length of my paddle, the one that hung on the wall over our headboard, the one with SLUT branded in stark black letters into the leather, the one that made me imagine those letters were being emblazoned upon my flesh as he spanked me with it. Then it was the tube of lubricant, the same one he made me purchase in the store, while he watched — rather than online. He enjoyed his little humiliations.

Next came a small glass jar I hadn’t seen before. His long finger tapped the top.

“Cinnamon oil,” he murmured, knowing I’d have the question on my lips, but not dare to voice it.

My heartbeat came up to full gallop as he set the slapper down next. It was the perfect size, the supple black leather shaped just right. It never failed to send tears cascading down my cheeks as the remorseless strap punished the lips of my pussy, my clit swelling up huge under the stinging, viper’s kiss of the leather. My thighs tightened knowing what was soon to come.

Last, he laid down the plug — the huge one he’d just bought for me. Stainless steel, it shined in the light as he made me watch his fingers lube it up before setting the monster back down on a small white hand towel.  There was no way that thing was going to fit, lube or not, and I shuddered.

But then I heard it. The sound of his belt through the loops of his slacks. That familiar, deadly sound that made my mouth go dry and my pussy clench. I looked up at him. The folded belt hung from his fist, ready.

His dark eyes glittered as he smiled down at me. “You have a long afternoon ahead of you, bad girl. Now, face forward.”

* * * *

Anticipation, yep, I enjoy it, evil sadist that I am:) Now, time for you to satisfy your anticipation and head over to the other blogs participating in this event. I’ve already read some of them, and holy hotness, they are GOOD. June is set to be one hot, sweaty month here in blogland methinks. Enjoy:)

PS — On the subject of anticipation (in this case, non-sexual): there’s the they’d-better-not-fucking-kill-Tyrion-off-or-there-will-be-rioting-in-the-streets kind as I await tonight’s episode of Game of Thrones.

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Filed Under: Spanking A-Z Blog Challenge Tagged With: anticipation, bad girl, D/s, psychology of kink, punishment, spanking

A maidservant renders … service — #Dungeon Crawl — 04/02/14

April 1, 2014 By Trent Evans

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Greetings Dungeon Crawlers,

This week I decided to return to my fantasy erotic novel, A Lady and a Maid. In this week’s clip, we move to the Frontier and the Palace of Peace where we find Lord Andrus Westwood, his Captain, Lawrence, and their unfortunate companion, the servant, Ryndra…

* * * *

The Frontier

Lord Andrus Westwood dropped his looking glass, reclined back into the worn oaken seat ensconced in the alcove high atop the observation tower. It was probably unnecessary to use the glass in the pitch black of the night, but he thought it at least set a good example for the men on duty in the other three watchtowers. He didn’t need to be up there in the windswept heights above the sprawling Palace of Peace; any number of his men would gladly have taken watch duty for him. Something was bothering him though. It was an unease, a nagging doubt that kept him on watch — despite the fact that he outranked every soldier in the Palace.

It was his job to protect the Frontier, and until his unsettling foreboding abated, he’d do it personally.

The palace itself was the size of a small city, but from the soaring viewpoint of the tower, it was just so much scenery; a cacophony of light, sound, and smell that had no concrete form, a mass of humanity, far below. The palace was the largest of the three main hubs of the Frontier. It was constructed in response to a previous Incursion that nearly wiped out humanity. The humans that remained resolved to never again be caught unawares, undefended, and the Frontier fortifications were the result.

Standing, he stretched his tall, lanky frame, a grimace crossing his features as he worked the stiffness from his muscular legs. A gust of wind played between the four watchtowers, washing over his face, the dark whiskers of his bearded chin stirring. His deep brown eyes squinted at the cold bite of the breeze. It was time to warm up.

He picked up the hooded torch that provided his only illumination there high above the palace, using the leather hood to signal to the other towers that he was going off watch. The other towers would scan his side of the palace until his return. Every minute of warning of an impending incursion was a minute that would save lives. He knew it better than most, but all the men assigned watch duty took it extremely seriously — it was after all their families too in harm’s way below, along with everyone else.

Making his way down the dimly lit staircase that spiraled up within each of the stone watchtowers, Andrus was grateful for the shelter from the chill night breeze. He opened the door to the warm, candlelit watch quarters, his Captain, Lawrence kneeling on one of the bunks.

“Finish up with her and join me, Lawrence,” Andrus said, his lips curved in a weary smile.

“Yes, Sir,” Lawrence said, his voice labored. The captain was bent over the crouching form of a naked girl. Ryndra, the maidservant they’d brought with them to the Frontier had caught the roving eye of his captain. Plucked from her normal scullery position at Westwood, her new duties were comprised mainly of helping Andrus and his captain make their long hours on the Frontier seem a little less lonely.

Andrus appreciated the servant’s firm breasts, agile tongue and warm, soft body. Judging by the vigorous thrusting of his hips and the heavy panting of the prostrate girl, Captain Lawrence appeared to be appreciating her attributes even more.

Stripping off the studded leather armor, Andrus dropped the gleaming steel leg greaves on the floor next to the fire. He slumped into a deep, stuffed chair, his one concession to comfort that no normal soldier would be allowed. Across the room, the girl’s breathless cries rose, interspersed with groaned curses from the rutting captain.

Andrus hated his time off duty. The watch gave him something to occupy his mind, a way to stave off the melancholy that threatened to shroud him in suffocating darkness. He knew he should be concerned about the preternatural quiet all along the Frontier. Quiet was never good. But alone —or nearly so, the nearby copulating couple notwithstanding — his mind invariably went to his wife.

Miriam.

He feared she was lost to him, in spirit, if not in body. She’d changed. The vivacious, adventurous woman he’d wooed and wed as a young man, had somehow transformed herself. She was just as beautiful as she’d been then, perhaps more so, but that wasn’t what pained him. Her spirit, or more specifically, her lack of spirit was his worry. She’d grown twisted and sadistic over the years, and in that time a cold gulf had developed between husband and wife. Andrus had no quarrel with sadism — when exercised with some restraint. He enjoyed the sight of a bound woman in his bed, her ass raised high for the agony of a tight twenty with the cane. He understood well the appeal of exercising sexual dominance over another person.

But what Miriam indulged in … was something else. He had to keep close eye on her, more than a Lord should need to. She was constantly pushing limits, chafing under the limitations of his dictates. He’d even had to take a husband’s prerogative, and spank her himself a time or two. Afterward, she’d seemed more malleable, more willing to see things his way. However, all too soon, she would drift off course again, succumbing to her obsessions. He despaired that there was no going back to the Miriam he still loved, but no longer recognized. He knew that things would come to some sort of resolution upon his return to Westwood in four weeks time. He only hoped that his fears were unfounded.

The rider that had arrived with news two nights ago didn’t encourage him though. As he’d suspected, she was continuing with her unhealthy obsession with tormenting the commoner farmer, Clayton McClearn. He didn’t understand the fixation she had on him. He’d attempted to draw it out of her before his departure for the Frontier, but she’d demurred, saying his concerns were misplaced. He had offered to have McClearn summoned to Westwood for a meeting with them both, but she’d laughed off the suggestion as foolish. Frustrated, he’d left with strict instructions to her to leave the man and his family in peace. He’d have to deal with her disobedience upon his return

Lawrence, his shoulder-length blond hair swinging at his back, walked by Andrus’ chair, sitting in his own on the other side of the fire. He crossed his legs, his shirt only partially buttoned, sweat gleaming on a well-muscled chest.

“Had enough of her for now, Captain? You’ve been doing more fucking than soldiering on this trip.”

Lawrence stiffened, sitting straighter in his chair. “Milord, I—”

“Carry on,” Andrus said, waving a calming hand. “I’d rather you get it out of your system now, before something happens. I need you on the line fresh if, Gods forbid, the nocturne decide to move. And that’s another thing — it’s ‘Andrus’, out here. Ballocks to titles.”

Lawrence sat back in his chair, finishing the buttons on his shirt. “Thank you, Milord — Andrus. You know you have me, whatever comes.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Captain.” Andrus nodded, a hand extended toward the girl. “So, did she restore you?”

Lawrence smiled, his prominent canines gleamed in the candlelight, lending him the look of a satisfied wolf. “That she did.”

The girl knelt in a compact posture on the bed, a thin white cotton top her only covering. Her gleaming eyes dominated her pretty face, the orbs reflecting the flicker of the firelight.

“Come here, girl,” Andrus said, turning in his chair, beckoning her to him.

She hesitated a moment, no doubt trying to ascertain what her Lord had in mind.

“You’ve nothing to fear, girl. Come, sit with me.”

She moved to his side, her hands clasped before her, the strong smell of Lawrence’s semen mingling with the alluring musk of her sex. He drew her down upon his lap, tucking her head under his chin, a broad hand clasping the curve of her naked hip. her body was tense, her hands twisting together.

Andrus looked down upon her, a smile on his lips. “You’ve been hard used, Ryndra. You’ve naught to fear from me. Take your ease, dove.” He held her tighter to his broad chest, nuzzling the girl’s straw colored hair.

Relaxing, she sighed, laying a hand upon his breast.  “Thank you, Milord.”

He held her for a few minutes, the intent gaze of Lawrence upon Ryndra the entire time. Perhaps his randy Captain was not quite as sated as he’d initially seemed? Andrus tucked the hair back behind Ryndra’s delicate ear, his rough fingers stroking the tender flesh of her earlobe.

“Do you need me to take watch, Sir?” Lawrence sat forward as if to rise, a deliberate nod of his head toward Ryndra.

Andrus shook his head, his lowered hand signaling the Captain to stay.

Lawrence sat back once more, his long fingers drumming the handle of his chair. “Anything new on the towers?”
Andrus shrugged, his hand caressing the breathtakingly soft cheek of the girl in his lap. She was a lovely girl indeed, and not for the first time, he was glad his Captain had pressed her to come along on the trip. His cock began to stir, and despite the fact that Ryndra was nearly half his age, he didn’t feel like fighting the rise of his desire. It was a way not to think. It meant he hadn’t succumbed to his melancholy.

Yet.

“Turn, girl. No, facing your Captain.”

Her limbs were tense, but she obeyed, allowing Andrus to splay her thighs open upon his. Her sex was fully exposed, something not lost on Lawrence, whose possessive gaze took in the lovely sight.

“What did I miss while I was up in the clouds freezing my balls off, Lawrence?”

The captain’s gaze rose, but just for a moment. “Laird’s patrol is late.”

Andrus snorted. “So, in other words, the usual.”

Lawrence nodded, sitting forward, his elbows braced on his thighs, his gaze focused once more on the girl’s displayed pussy.

“Maybe not so usual, Andrus. He’s two days late.”

That was something else entirely. “Did he take the northern leg?”

“Aye.”

Andrus slipped a broad hand down over the girl’s sex, the seething heat of her flesh hot against his palm. She stiffened in his clutch as he ground the heel of his hand against her clit.

“She likes that,” Lawrence said, smiling.

“So she does,” Andrus murmured. He kissed the girl’s ear, and she turned her head toward his lips.

“I’ve a retrieval party out looking for them,” Lawrence said, his posture straight, his flies straining against a now obvious erection. “But the last time any patrol was more than a day overdue, they never returned.”

“Did his route take him as far as The Ford?” The girl inhaled sharply as Andrus slipped a finger into the soft sheath of her pussy.

“It was supposed to, but we’ve had riders arrive from there saying they never laid eyes on him.”

“If I know Laird, he’s probably passed out drunk, knee deep in slave girls. Isn’t there a House Nightshade at The Ford?”

“Aye, but I doubt that’s where he hides. We’d have heard something. That man is as subtle as a storm. Somebody would have talked.”

Andrus thrust a second finger into Ryndra’s clenching sex, the girl moaning at the stretching. She was so petite that he had little doubt her narrow passage was sore tested by the width of his thick questing digits. The wet sound of his fingers plundering her increased in volume as he thrust faster, the girl shifting in his lap, her hand clasped around his corded forearm.

“Do I need to bind you?” His voice rumbled against her hair. “You know better.” 

She shook her head, dropping her hand from his arm.

“Good girl. I think I have a better use for those hands of yours. Lift your shirt.”

She turned her head to look at him, her blue eyes uncertain, the corners of her pretty lips turned down.

“Do as I say, Ryndra. I shouldn’t have to ask twice.”

Her hands flew to the snug hem of the cotton, lifting it slowly.

“All the way now, let your Captain see those breasts of yours. Perhaps he’ll want to suckle them? You’ll let him if he does.”

She turned her face from Lawrence, nuzzling her head under Andrus’ bearded chin, her cheeks flushed scarlet.

“Good”, Andrus said, making sure the fabric was clear above the swells of her youthful bosom. Her high breasts were not large, but were perfectly suited to her petite frame. The nipples were a deep pink, the areolas crinkled. He stroked the tender flesh with a finger, watching the nipple draw tight.

“Andrus … ” Lawrence moved to stand, his hands moving at his flies.

“Go to him, dove,” Andrus whispered into her ear. “Serve him well. I’ll be watching.”

She slipped from his lap to kneel before the Captain. Her hands went between his legs, and Andrus watched her slowly move her head as she took Lawrence into her mouth. Her round little bottom swayed as her movements became urgent, the clutch of the Captain’s hands in her long hair growing more insistent.

Andrus could wait no longer, his cock painfully twisted in his trousers. He stood, opening his flies and moved to stand close behind the girl, gazing upon her as she serviced the Captain. Her lips were stretched tight around Lawrence’s cock as she bobbed up and down the stiff shaft, gleaming saliva leaking from the corners of her mouth. Andrus lay a hand against her hollowed cheek, caressing her, and she moaned around the hard shaft. Lawrence gritted his teeth, his hands clasping her hair in two fists.

Andrus nodded to Lawrence, and the Captain used her hair to pull her off of his cock. She peered up at him, confused.

“My Lord, what can I—”

Lawrence sat down again, drawing her between his thighs, his fist entwined in her blonde tresses. His long, wet cock bobbed as he shifted forward, and she bent over him. The posture threw out her lovely soft bottom, beckoning Andrus. He dropped to his knees behind her, and laid the throbbing shaft of his penis across her buttock. She froze.

“Keep going, Ryndra. I didn’t tell you to stop,” Lawrence said, his voice thick. He pulled her further downward onto his cock, and she gagged as it struck the back of her throat.

Andrus ran his hands over the girl’s bottom, savoring the silky smoothness of her flesh. She had surprisingly generous buttocks for so slight a girl. He squeezed one of the globes, enjoying the feel of its soft weight in his hand. She wriggled her hips at him, and he slapped her bottom in response. The muscles of her trim thighs clenched at the sting, and she murmured around the Captain’s cock.

Andrus placed a palm on each of her cheeks and yawned them apart, fully exposing her charms to his gaze. The cleft was still slick with oil, her dainty rosette an inflamed, swollen red, still gaping open slightly. The Captain’s semen leaked down from the well-used opening, her perineum wet with his seed.

Andrus chuckled, glancing up at Lawrence. “No wonder she was making so much noise.”

Lawrence grinned, the cords of muscle standing out on his neck, his face flushed.

Andrus moved his hard cock down, the broad head leaving a sticky trail across her buttock. His cock brushed her cleft, the meatus just kissing the girl’s sore bottom hole, and she tightened.

“Easy, dove,” Andrus said, his hand stroking the curve of her hip. “Your Captain has served you well there already. I want something different.”

He drew the head of his cock through the soft folds of Ryndra’s pussy, up, then down. She moaned around the Captain, who growled at her to keep sucking.

Andrus eased forward until his cock was bedded fully, his hard legs tight against her trembling thighs. She shuddered against him, the sounds of her sucking the Captain’s cock filling the room.

“Gods! This cunt is tight.” He thrust languidly, gazing at his shaft glistening with her juices as it pistoned in and out of her sex. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes, inhaling deeply of her scent.

Lawrence grunted, thrusting his hips quickly, Ryndra gagging again as he drove deep. Andrus grasped her around her incredibly narrow waist, pulling her more fully onto him. The two men pounded into her, rocking her slight body between them.

The first to break, Lawrence held her face down upon him as he groaned out his climax. She coughed and sputtered when he finally let her up off of his spent cock, the brisk thrusting of Andrus continuing to jostle her.

Andrus held out little longer than the Captain. The Lord groaned, his balls tingling as he poured his seed into her. He kneaded the girl’s buttocks as he knelt over her, panting.

Taking a handful of Ryndra’s long blonde hair, Lawrence used it to clean his flaccid cock, leaving her with a pat on her flushed cheek. She hung her head, trembling, waiting for Andrus to catch his breath. He finally released her with a gentle smack to her bottom, and he stood, tucking himself back into his flies. He watched her pull her shirt back down over her breasts, glancing up at him as she did so.

He smiled at her, nodding his head. She inclined her head in reply, and retreated to the bunk she’d come from, curling up on her side to rest, the swollen lips of her pussy glistening with his semen.

Andrus slumped back into his chair, taking a deep drag of mead from the cup Lawrence offered. He stared into the dancing orange hues of the popping fire, wondering again what to do with his Miriam. What was she up to? Why did he feel guilty for using the servant girl, when he had a very good idea of what Miriam got up to with the servants in his absence?

Lastly, he wondered where in God’s name that idiot Laird had gone…

* * * *

I just realized that there is very little actual BDSM in this clip … which is quite unlike me. Hmm. Hopefully, you’ll excuse me for being off my perv game this week. (I’m sure nobody actually read this far anyway, but if you did, thank you:)

Now, please take a few minutes to visit the other blogs sharing their depravity with us this week.

Happy Crawling!

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Filed Under: Dungeon Crawl Blog Hop Tagged With: A Lady and a Maid, BDSM erotic romance, books, D/s, D/s erotica, dubious consent, Epic Fantasy Erotica, excerpt, forced exhibitionism, forced oral sex, menage, MFM menage, sexual slavery, Trent Evans erotica

“Sophie’s Ordeal Continues…” — Dungeon Crawl Blog Hop

March 11, 2014 By Trent Evans

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Hello Dungeon Crawlers,

This week, I’m continuing with more from the depravity filled epic-fantasy erotica title A Lady And A Maid. The two noblewomen from last week, Lady Miriam and her friend Countess Sandra, have just pulled Miriam’s plaything from her cage…

* * * *

[Read more…]

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Filed Under: Dungeon Crawl Blog Hop Tagged With: A Lady and a Maid, bdsm erotica, breast discipline, breast punishment, corporal punishment, D/s, Dominance and submission, dubious consent, Dungeon Crawl Blog Hop, Epic Fantasy Erotica, erotica excerpt, F/F BDSM, forced exhibitionism, Master/slave, needle play, pain, sexual slavery, Trent Evans

Saturday Spankings — 01/31/14

January 31, 2014 By Trent Evans

saturday-spankings

 

 

Hello Fellow Spankos,

This week I’m continuing with another snippet from the upcoming full-length D/s novel “The Change”.

In this week’s clip we continue with what happens when Kirsten comes home from work, to find her husband Kiehl waiting for her. It’s their regular night for what they call “The Game”, their mutual exploration of discipline, desire, fantasy, and kink…

* * * *

She laid her head on her clasped arms, trying to get her breathing under control. She could feel slickness on the insides of her thighs, and hoped he couldn’t smell her arousal. She’d always been worried about her scent, and always kept herself scrupulously clean. Lately though, he’d seemed to take almost a cruel delight in her discomfiture about it.

Then he was back behind her, looming, grasping one of her hands and moving it behind her back. Cold metal pressed against the tender skin of her wrist.

“What the fuck?”

“Relax. They’re just cuffs.”

Oh. My. God.

He pinned her other arm behind her back, metal clasping over that wrist too. She pulled against the cuffs, tested their strength.

She was going nowhere.

Her heart jack-hammered in her chest, even as her pussy wept her excitement. Still, she couldn’t help but try to turn over, the feeling of vulnerability too much.

His pressed a heavy palm between her shoulder blades, his strength pinning her down easily.

“Kiehl, I don’t know if—”

“Are you okay? Are they hurting you?” His fingers traced the metal that imprisoned the delicate bones of her wrists.

“No, it’s not that…”

“Then be still. You’re fine. I won’t hurt you.”

What if I want you to? How fucked up am I?

* * * *

I hope you liked this week’s installment! I had to go just a teensy bit over my allotted eight line quota, but I hope you didn’t mind. Before you go, please take some time to visit the other stops in this week’s hop. There are a lot of great writers there, and some uber-hot excerpts!

More to come next week:)

Trent

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Filed Under: Saturday Spankings Tagged With: BDSM, BDSM erotic romance, bdsm erotica, bondage, D/s, D/s marriage, domestic discipline, erotic pregnancy, handcuffs, Saturday Spankings, spanking, The Change, Trent Evans

Saturday Spankings — Dec 27 2013

December 27, 2013 By Trent Evans

saturday-spankings

Hello Fellow Spankos,

This week I’m continuing with another snippet from the upcoming full-length D/s novel “The Change”.

In this week’s clip we continue with what happens when Kirsten comes home from work, to find her husband Kiehl waiting for her. It’s their regular night for what they call “The Game”, their mutual exploration of discipline, desire, fantasy, and kink…

Kiehl has just ordered his wife Kirsten to expose herself to his gaze, and reluctantly, she’s obeyed, now standing before him in nothing but stockings and heels…

* * * *

Is it actually turning me on to be…exposed? Embarrassed?

Maybe she needed therapy. Maybe she needed to be fucked first. Then second.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his dark eyes looking her up and down.

She wanted to kiss him, curl up in his strong arms, get lost in this man who loved her so much.

He shook himself, clearing his throat. “Clasp your hands behind your head and turn around.”

Ohh, this is new.

She wanted fifteen more minutes on the Stairmaster before showing him her ass, but that didn’t appear to be in the cards. Turning slowly, the tick-tock of her high heels was jarring in the quiet room. She felt her buttocks shudder ever so slightly as she moved, the heat of her blush radiating down her neck and chest.

* * * *

I hope you liked this week’s installment! Before you go, please take some time to visit the other stops in this week’s hop. There are a lot of great writers there, and some uber-hot excerpts!

More to come next week:)

Trent

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Filed Under: Saturday Spankings Tagged With: BDSM and pregnancy, BDSM erotic romance, D/s, domestic discipline, erotic pregnancy, excerpt, forced exhibitionism, married couple kink, Saturday Spankings Blog Hop, spanking, The Change, Trent Evans

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