His to Train: The Complete Series

Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and feature intensely erotic situations, bdsm play, crops, spanking, public discipline, humiliation, multiple partners, submission and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Five toe-curling stories of dominance and erotic discipline, now available in one volume!

Jennifer has always been curious about the kink lifestyle, but her exposure to it with her current partner has been a bit limited. In the aftermath of an eye opening experience with a couple acquaintance within the scene, Jennifer and Robert apply to become members in the highly exclusive Tremboix Society, a BDSM network of the city’s most powerful and influential. Rather than questionnaires or resumes, the Tremboix uses only one metric to assess potential couples: the worthiness of the submissive. So it is that Jennifer finds herself standing alone before a gathering of the city’s most powerful and sexually dominant men with only one task: obey.

His to Train: The Complete Series follows Jennifer along the initial steps of her sexual self-discovery, first on the public stage of the Tremboix Society, and then into the house of discipline established by one of the society’s most prestigious members who, intrigued by Jennifer’s charms, makes a rare offer to train her personally over the course of a week.


All the while, the other hand worked its delicate touch up my thigh, claiming my body as his one inch at a time.

As he continued to speak, his tone became quieter and more seductive, almost hypnotic. “But me, I can tell when a woman is truly, utterly powerless. It doesn’t have anything at all to do with ropes.” The tips of his fingers brushed the lace of my panties. “Do you know what I mean, Jennifer?”

“Yes,” I gasped. I felt paralyzed by need, not just his touch but his orchestration. He was playing my body, and every note seemed to match a perfect harmony I had never listened for before. All the while it seemed that the air I breathed was of nothing but his scent, issuing me deeper into his world of physical bliss.

“Yes, sir,” I repeated slightly less breathlessly in an attempt to hide my state from the onlookers. Jack, of course, knew precisely what he was doing to me. There was no concealing this experience from him. I would be safe in his arms, his touch told me. I could let myself go.

The hand between my legs rubbed over my panties and I let out an explosive breath as the friction tugged lightly at my swollen lips and clit.

“I could take anything you possess right now, couldn’t I?” he asked softly. “Anything that is yours is being surrendered up to me. I can feel it in every breath you take.”

“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes.”

His fingers felt at the edge of my panties and then nudged them aside. The thought that I was somewhere where I was uncomfortable with my pussy being exposed seemed to flit back and forth somewhere in the distant recesses of my mind.

“I could manipulate you and use you and you would not even think to object.”

“Yes,” I repeated. Each word he spoke seemed infused with the pleasure his fingers were imparting to me. I held my breath as I felt them spread my lips and run along my sensitive folds. I had not opened my eyes in the past minute. Nothing else existed but the part of me that he was touching.

“When I put my fingers into you, you are going to be mine utterly.”

“Yes,” I agreed before I understood what he was saying. Then when I did, I repeated, “yes.”

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Caught By My Professor

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations between an older man and a young woman, taboo teacher/student relations, discipline, spanking, humiliation, deflowering, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Rachel Stanton has always found ways of using her good looks to get ahead, and when she arrives in college it doesn’t look like that’s going to have to change. But her easy ride runs out when her professor Alex Cossaign notices her flirting with a classmate only to copy his course work. The handsome professor decides it’s time to teach her a little personal responsibility and maybe show the flirtatious young woman just what a man who actually knows how to handle her charms looks like.


“You know, Professor,” I begin, “I understand why you have me cleaning the classroom. I’m really learning a lesson. But as for talking to Brad, I really don’t understand why that’s so necessary. How do you know I don’t like him?” I find myself blushing deeper crimson. “I mean, he’s not the single most handsome man I can think of,” I say, “but a girl’s gotta take what she can get, right? Sometimes I just get lonely, don’t you?” I wince slightly as I hear the last words come out of my mouth. That may have been taking it too far.

“That’s a very interesting perspective, Rachel,” he says in a neutral voice. “But surely if you cared about him you wouldn’t be manipulating him into giving you his work when he clearly didn’t want to.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “But Professor,” I say, “is it really that simple? Sometimes you need something from someone and you’re in a position to offer a sort of trade, right? A little affection to help get someone off the hook?” I’ve definitely warmed to my audience. This all has to be having an effect.

He sits back and considers me for a long moment, taking me in – all of me. The blush in my cheeks deepens still further as I find myself suddenly a little bit self-conscious.

“What are you doing, Rachel?” he asks. “Why do you think it’s appropriate to act this way? Or dress this way?” He makes a vague gesture.

I draw back slightly. This isn’t the reaction I expected. “Like what, Professor?”

“You – playing the slut to get what you want. Do you think I’m some kid who’ll go weak-kneed if you smile at me with your ***s hanging out?”

“What are you talking about, Professor?” I ask as innocently as I can, my heart beginning to hammer. He seems angry. It occurs to me I could get in legitimate trouble for this.

“What am I talking about?” he asks. “I’m talking about this.” He grabs the loose flap of cloth of my partially open blouse and shakes me by it, inadvertently pulling apart the other buttons in the process. The garment falls open. If it weren’t obvious enough already that I’m not wearing a bra, it’s pretty f***ing obvious now. I look down and then back up at him in shock, forgetting to cover myself.

He draws in a sharp breath as my sudden nakedness catches us both by surprise.

Disciplining the Teacher

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, teacher/student relations, discipline, spanking, humiliation, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

If she’s being honest, Sandra Rogers sometimes enjoys jerking around the male college students in her classes … but when she goes too far with her bad marks, she finds out there’s someone in her class who won’t get pushed too far. Jackson, an undergraduate after completing his military service, has discovered a dirty little secret that Sandra will do anything to keep from getting out into the open. He’s willing to keep this secret between them, but he wants to be sure that still gets the punishment she so very much deserves.


“Of course I can,” he said. He delivered another stinging slap and I moaned pitifully. My palms pressed at the floor and I wriggled again on his lap. I could feel the jiggling redness in my ass. I could feel his eyes taking in the humiliating sight.

And then I gasped from surprise, not pain. His hand was wandering along the inside of my thigh. His strong fingers were approaching … I could feel him kneading at my sensitive skin.

“My God,” he said. “Look at how wet you are.”

“I’m not!” I squealed in protest.

“No? You’re positively dripping. I’ve never seen anything quite like this.”

I clamped my legs together in mortification, but the discovery had been made.

“Well, well,” he said to himself. “What a dirty, dirty girl you are. Here I thought I was punishing you, and instead you’ve been enjoying every minute of it.”

“That’s not true!”

“I can tell when you’re lying, Sandra. I can feel you get all tense. You don’t have any secrets from me. You like nothing better than getting a good spanking. You probably know how much you deserve it.”

I kicked at the floor in impotent humiliation. Why had my body betrayed me like this?

I gasped again as his fingers returned to their previous exploration. They moved between my thighs and rubbed between my swollen lips, spreading the juices I had so uselessly denied were there. Another moan escaped from my mouth and I clamped my jaw shut. It felt so good and I wanted it so badly, but it was just so positively humiliating to admit it, even to myself.

“Please,” I moaned, although by now even I didn’t know whether I was begging him to stop or begging him to continue.

“Naughty little professor,” he said as he fingered me. “Breaks the rules and turned on by the punishment. How am I to handle this?”

Evidently he decided that he just needed to spank me harder.