Turned Bimbo!: Three Erotic Stories of Bimbo Transformation, Menage, and Exhibitionism

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, multiple partners, group sex, exhibitionist themes, bimbofication and the use of potent aphrodisiacs, a billionaire alpha male and his young secretary, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Rachel’s four years in college were supposed to prepare her for bigger and better things, but working for a man like Peter Everette takes all the sting out of being a secretary. He may already be one of the city’s most powerful men at the young age of 34, but he’s so approachable and friendly with his newest employee that she can’t help but sometimes think about more than a work relationship.

Trying to look good for her boss, she’s bought herself a beauty supplement that promises more than just good skin. But when the supplement turns out to have some “additional properties,” new hormones kick Rachel’s fantasy of seduction into sudden overdrive.

Before she’s had time to think, she’s flaunting her new attitude and assets through the office in ways that Mr. Everette and the other partners accustomed to the firm’s stuffy work environment can’t help but notice … and act on. It’s not long before the fertile but inexperienced young woman is getting all the attention she can handle, and more.

Excerpt:

I shifted over to stand in front of the reflective metallic panel that held the floor number keypad and bent down to make sure I looked alright. It must have been the slightly distorted shape of the panel, but the changes I had observed earlier in the morning seemed, if anything, to have increased.

Also, my nipples were poking out very obviously through the thin cloth of my blouse. Good lord, had I looked like that this whole time? My body clenched in delicious embarrassment as I realized after the fact just why my appearance had made such an impression on my new friend John. I had never been dressed so inappropriately in public in my life, let alone in the middle of the financial sector in the middle of a work day.

I rubbed at the offending nipples. Oh God did that feel good, but it did the exact opposite of the desired effect. Between the tightness of the fabric and the prominence of my nipples I sort of looked like a girl in a wet t-shirt contest. I giggled a little, remembering I had once thought about entering one of those back in college but not being able to muster the courage.

For whatever reason, it didn’t seem to occur to me that looking like that in a nightclub during spring break was a little different from showing up for work as a secretary on the forty-fifth floor. Nothing could lessen my good mood.

I removed the key from my purse that authorized the elevator to go beyond the public floors, and in another thirty seconds I watched the doors open on the familiar lobby that I presided over.

I tiptoed out of the elevator and peeked across at the blind-obscured windows of his office. The light was on. I sighed, accepting my comparative ineptitude with resignation. He could fly to Washington, speak at a conference, fly home, and be back at work before I could snap a bra on and drive seventeen blocks. Actually, I had only managed half of those things. Who knew why he put up with me?

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Bimbo at Work

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, multiple partners, group sex, exhibitionist themes, bimbofication and the use of potent aphrodisiacs, a billionaire alpha male and his young secretary, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Rachel’s four years in college were supposed to prepare her for bigger and better things, but working for a man like Peter Everette takes all the sting out of being a secretary. He may already be one of the city’s most powerful men at the young age of 34, but he’s so approachable and friendly with his newest employee that she can’t help but sometimes think about more than a work relationship.

Trying to look good for her boss, she’s bought herself a beauty supplement that promises more than just good skin. But when the supplement turns out to have some “additional properties,” new hormones kick Rachel’s fantasy of seduction into sudden overdrive.

Before she’s had time to think, she’s flaunting her new attitude and assets through the office in ways that Mr. Everette and the other partners accustomed to the firm’s stuffy work environment can’t help but notice … and act on. It’s not long before the fertile but inexperienced young woman is getting all the attention she can handle, and more.

Excerpt:

I shifted over to stand in front of the reflective metallic panel that held the floor number keypad and bent down to make sure I looked alright. It must have been the slightly distorted shape of the panel, but the changes I had observed earlier in the morning seemed, if anything, to have increased.

Also, my nipples were poking out very obviously through the thin cloth of my blouse. Good lord, had I looked like that this whole time? My body clenched in delicious embarrassment as I realized after the fact just why my appearance had made such an impression on my new friend John. I had never been dressed so inappropriately in public in my life, let alone in the middle of the financial sector in the middle of a work day.

I rubbed at the offending nipples. Oh God did that feel good, but it did the exact opposite of the desired effect. Between the tightness of the fabric and the prominence of my nipples I sort of looked like a girl in a wet t-shirt contest. I giggled a little, remembering I had once thought about entering one of those back in college but not being able to muster the courage.

For whatever reason, it didn’t seem to occur to me that looking like that in a nightclub during spring break was a little different from showing up for work as a secretary on the forty-fifth floor. Nothing could lessen my good mood.

I removed the key from my purse that authorized the elevator to go beyond the public floors, and in another thirty seconds I watched the doors open on the familiar lobby that I presided over.

I tiptoed out of the elevator and peeked across at the blind-obscured windows of his office. The light was on. I sighed, accepting my comparative ineptitude with resignation. He could fly to Washington, speak at a conference, fly home, and be back at work before I could snap a bra on and drive seventeen blocks. Actually, I had only managed half of those things. Who knew why he put up with me?

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Bimbo Side Effects: Losing Control in the Doctor’s Office

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, multiple partners, medical examinations, public group sex, bimbofication and the use of potent aphrodisiacs, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Between a tough job and tougher grad school classes, Vanessa Worthing is being stretched to the limit. What she really needs is something to help her let go and unwind, and her doctor has just the stress relief medication. Its only drawback is a certain rare side effect in individuals with a lot of latent sexual tension, though Vanessa is quick to deny to her handsome young doctor that this could be a concern for her.

But when he issues her the drug and keeps her in his exam room for monitoring, the truth is bound to be unleashed before long.

Excerpt:

His voice stopped me, understanding but firm. “Try to focus, Vanessa. I understand the drug can be a little disorienting, but try to remember why we’re here. You came in because you were having trouble with -”

“Oh, I remember now, Dr. Stevens. I’m sorry. Yes, I really am feeling a lot better. In fact, it’s hard to even remember what had me so worked up in the first place.”

“That’s good,” he said, scribbling something. “That’s very good. And what about the other issues we talked about?”

“Oh,” I said, having forgotten for a moment the source of my previous anxiety. “I – uh, I’m sure there isn’t anything to worry about.”

“Well lie back,” he said. “I need to take your blood pressure.”

Compliantly, I flopped back onto the exam table. My legs splayed open lazily and for a moment I worried that my gown had hiked up to show more than I meant to. But it felt so good just to lie there that I really couldn’t find it in myself to check.

Dr. Stevens came over next to me. I saw his gaze flick over my body and caught a momentary gleam of desire in those dark, alluring eyes.

“Is my p**** showing, Dr. Stevens?” I asked lazily.

“It is, as a matter of fact,” he said, putting a hand to my forehead and writing something down. “You know we don’t require patients to remove their underwear when we have them change, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Stevens. I don’t mean to be improper. It’s just that I wasn’t wearing any panties today. Isn’t that silly? I completely forgot to wear panties.”

“That’s quite alright,” he said, removing his hand from my forehead.

I closed my eyes again. The drug’s effects were getting stronger, and there was definitely something sexual about the way I was feeling. I liked talking about my p**** with him. I liked him looking at it.

“Why don’t I give you a quick once-over?” he suggested. “While we’ve got you down here anyways.”

“Of course, doctor,” I agreed, spreading my legs wider for him.

He put his hand on the side of my throat, feeling at my pulse. His fingers were gentle and strong and my skin felt hot and very sensitive to his touch. Everything felt good, but especially him. “Body temperature seems stable, and pulse normal,” he said, scribbling.

“You know I really like when you touch me, Dr. Stevens. You should do it more.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said distractedly as he continued the exam. His hands made deft, knowing little movements down my body. Each one sent a shiver of pleasure up through me.

He prodded several times at my upper stomach and then moved lower. It wasn’t until I felt his fingers on my bare skin that I realized how much of myself I was showing. He hadn’t just caught a glimpse; the entire lower half of my body below my navel was bared and in view. I wriggled in a naughty sort of glee.

“Try to hold still, Vanessa,” he chided.

“Sorry, Dr. Stevens,” I apologized.

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The Public Sex Dare

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, multiple partners, public sex and humiliation, hazing, the use of potent aphrodisiacs, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Emily Marion has had a tough week rushing Kappa Kappa Delta: following instructions that range from unpleasant to outright humiliating, but she’s made it this far and wouldn’t dream of giving up now. That is, until she hears what her final assignment is going to be. Apparently she’s managed to piss off the chapter president, and in return her final afternoon of rush week is going to be an intense one. But does it have to be with two fraternity brothers she’s never met, and in public? And do the sisters have to give her a pharmaceutical-grade aphrodisiac to be sure she’ll go through with it? It all sounds a bit excessive, but deep down she probably can’t deny she finds the prospect a little thrilling, too.

Excerpt:

“This doesn’t sound like something I should be doing,” I went on when she was slow to answer. I tried to come up with a more specific objection, but I was having a lot of trouble thinking of one. This was actually all starting to sound like a pretty good idea.

“Kelly, I don’t think we gave her enough,” Sarah said dubiously.

“We gave her more than enough. Just give her another minute.”

They fell silent, watching me. The dizziness and lightheadedness started to go away, but the warmth and hyper-sensitivity continued to increase. With each passing moment my weak objections seemed to fall further into the past. Men were coming. That’s what seemed important now. They were bringing men here and I was going to do something.

I looked down and saw my hand rubbing compulsively over the front of my skirt, trying to inch between my legs. I pulled it away and straightened my clothes.

“When is all this happening?” I asked in as neutral a tone as I could manage.

“They should be getting here soon. How are you feeling?”

I ran a hand through my hair and squeezed my thighs together in passive yearning. “Sort of the way you wanted me to be feeling, I think.” Certain parts of me felt so good that it was becoming just about impossible to keep my hands off myself. “Tell me about the guys coming over.”

I saw Sarah exchange a smug look with the girl in the back. “They pick out the two hottest guys in their rush class. I haven’t met them.”

“Two of them?” I asked.

“When you see them you’ll be sorry there aren’t three.”

The wicked thought sent a sort of physical giggle all the way through my thrumming, needy body. “That sounds really good,” I agreed. “I don’t even know what three would be like.”

I looked around and saw a glass bookshelf against the wall behind me. I approached it curiously and checked my reflection in the glass. My cheeks were flushed and my pupils seemed a bit larger than usual. Otherwise I looked my normal self. I tugged a few unruly strands of hair into place and turned to look at myself in profile. This was a good outfit. They’d like me, or at least I hoped they would. I ran a hand down my ass and then more enthusiastically down my front.

“Soon, you said?” I asked Sarah.

“Yeah, soon.”

I turned back to the room. They were all still watching me. As if I didn’t have enough to think about already, it was as though I could actually feel their eyes on me. It was kind of a hot sensation in its own right. They were all looking at me as my every little sexual sensation bubbled to the surface quite plainly and openly.

Oops, my hand was down my skirt. I paused in the act of removing it, relishing the attention still more and noting with some surprise that there was something to be said for the situation. I could do anything I wanted and it would all seem perfectly natural and acceptable. Well, at least a lot more acceptable than I had ever conceived it could be to stand in a room full of mostly strangers rubbing intimately at myself.

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School Discipline Bundle

Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and feature intensely erotic situations, taboo teacher/student relations, discipline, spanking, humiliation, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older

School Discipline contains three stories of discipline, submission, dominance, and humiliation in the classroom.

Disciplining the Teacher
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.

Caught By My Professor
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.

Naughty Rumors
Annie doesn’t know why she started the rumor about Professor Richardson, her handsome and popular literature professor. Maybe it was just a plea for attention, or maybe it was just a way of making a long-hidden fantasy become slightly real. But whatever the reason, the rumors have made their way to the Dean of Student Affairs Mr. Clay himself, and when Annie is called down to the office on a Friday afternoon, she finds out he’s heard a lot more. Once past the initial mortification, she can admit she’s probably earned the spanking she’ll get, but did he really have to tell Professor Richardson about the whole thing, too?

Excerpt:

“I’m going to punish you, Sandra,” he explained, his hand undoing the zipper and allowing the skirt to open and fall to the floor. I clutched a hand over my panties. “You don’t seem to be grasping that reality. It’s either me or the Chair of your Department. Which one do you want it to be?”

I stared at him, caught in an impossible place. I had no one to blame but myself. Why had I done it? And now I was completely at his mercy.

“Well?”

“You,” I whispered.

“Me? You want me to punish you?”

I grimaced, trying to think of some other option.

“Sandra? What’s it going to be?”

“… Yes.”

The smile returned to his face. “That’s a good girl. I thought you’d see it my way. It just took a little explaining. Now bend down and pick up your skirt and hand it to me. I’d hate to let it wrinkle down there.”

The deep crimson blush of humiliation was rising in my face as I stared at him, paralyzed.

“Sandra,” he repeated, pointing at my fallen garment.

I slid my back down the wall until I felt the rumpled fabric in my hand. I stepped out of it and rose with it draped from my limp fingers.

Jackson held out his hand for it and I gave it to him. He folded it with care, placed it on the desk behind him, and then turned back to me. He eyed me up and down, evaluating the woman standing before him. I was supposed to be the authority figure, but how fast the tables had turned. I felt the blush in my cheeks burning hotter than ever as I felt his eyes roving my trembling body. Other, more conflicted and confusing emotions were playing about inside me as well as I noticed the slight quickening of his breath and the desire in his eyes.

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Naughty Rumors

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, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Annie doesn’t know why she started the rumor about Professor Richardson, her handsome and popular literature professor. Maybe it was just a plea for attention, or maybe it was just a way of making a long-hidden fantasy become slightly real. But whatever the reason, the rumors have made their way to the Dean of Student Affairs Mr. Clay himself, and when Annie is called down to the office on a Friday afternoon, she finds out he’s heard a lot more. Once past the initial mortification, she can admit she’s probably earned the spanking she’ll get, but did he really have to tell Professor Richardson about the whole thing, too?

Excerpt:

The ensuing silence was awful. After daring the initial glance towards Professor Richardson my eyes had stayed locked on a spot on the floor near the leg of the desk. I could feel him considering me.

“Won’t you say something, Professor?” I finally blurted.

“I’m trying to understand you, Annie.”

“What’s to understand? I shouldn’t have said – I just made a mistake.”

“What did you want?”

I struggled with the question. “I guess I just sort of liked the idea of it, to tell the truth,” I said finally in a very quiet voice. “I’m just so incredibly embarrassed, Professor.”

He blinked in surprise. Then he started to laugh. “Is that what it was?” he said. “I thought I saw something in the way you looked at me, and it made the lie all the harder to understand.” He closed the door of the office and stepped into the room. “But then again, if you knew the headache … what a stupid thing.”

“I’m sorry.”

He loosened his necktie and ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair. Even though it was wildly inappropriate given the situation, I couldn’t help but find him even sexier angry than when he was calm and collected. He seemed simultaneously capable of anything and yet in control. I got the sudden and very strange insight that he had probably been the type to get into a lot of trouble when he was younger.

He turned back to look at me and caught me staring. His eyes locked to mine, freezing me in place, and I watched a faintly appraising look come into his face.

“Well what are we going to do about this?” he asked.

The question sounded rhetorical, so I watched him without answering.

“Tell me,” he said, walking over to lean against the desk only a couple feet from me. “What is it exactly you told people I did?”

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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.

Excerpt:

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.”

Or
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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.

Excerpt:

“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.

Excerpt:

“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.

His to Train: Submissive’s Audition (BDSM, Domination, MMF, Public Sex)



Jennifer’s dominant, Robert, has applied for the two of them to become members in the highly exclusive Tremboix Society, a BDSM network of the city’s most powerful and influential. Though Robert Daniels surely falls within that category, he agrees that they must go through the Tremboix’s rigorous screening process. 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.

Excerpt:

“Any woman can give in to a little rough sex,” he went on. “A firm hand or even a couple tight knots and most women think they’ve learned what it is to give in and submit.”

His hand brushed upwards from my hip, caressing the side of my breast almost imperceptibly, and then ran back down and out over my sensitive stomach. He felt me trembling in his hands – felt each little, automatic response to every contact he made with me. The hand rose again and cupped my right breast, teasing at the nipple ever so lightly. I felt myself thrusting my chest into his hand, begging for more substantial stimulation, but his hand withdrew in just far enough to maintain its infuriating lightness.

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 five minutes. 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.”

Or
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