Dangers of Control – Resistance : Bad Boy Billionaire BDSM Romance (Series Book One)

“Good,” he breathed. “Look at how far we’ve come. It wasn’t that long ago I’d have you going all to pieces on me just for a little tie-up. But you’ve learned I can be good to you, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed.

“And you’ve learned I don’t have to be, too.”

The answering shiver, nervous and aroused and eager, jerked through the leather strap of the belt tied at her throat. “Yes, sir.” Her voice was barely audible.

For the man who can have anything, she’s the perfect plaything. But he’s not who she thinks he is, and the more she comes under his spell, the less he’s willing to pretend.

Reader Advisory: This story is part of a series intended for mature audiences only and which features intensely erotic situations, forced exhibition, public humiliation, discipline, dominance, and rough sex. All characters are 18 or older.


His hand left her breast and wandered downward, tracing over her abdomen, taking a detour to squeeze her deliciously tight ass, and then down over the sensitive mound of her groin. He felt her stiffen as his hand cupped her pussy, and even before his fingers were at her hole, he could feel how wet she was for him.

“So wet already, Heather?” he breathed. “Is that all because of me?”

“All, sir. I’m – I’m always wet when I’m with you.”

He had ample evidence that that was true, but it didn’t make it any less exquisite to feel her sex soaking with juices, ready for his cock whenever he wanted to take her. It never got old. Seeing the effects he had on her never, ever got old. He felt another throb in his shaft, by now standing at complete attention against the tight cloth on his crotch, but he wasn’t about to rush through this and miss out. The best part was always watching her squirm.

With a satisfying click, he opened the buckle of his belt. Heather’s hands flew to his zipper at the sound, over-eager and hopeful it meant he was about to take her. But he pushed her hands away, and instead raised the belt to her head, threading it back through itself in a loop. He heard her breath stop as she saw what he was doing. He brought it up and she bent her head slightly to let him slip it over and down to her throat, where he tightened it with an easy little flick.

It wasn’t tight enough to choke her, at least for the moment, but she wouldn’t forget it was there, that was for sure.

He reached into his pocket and found his silk handkerchief, still crisp and pressed since the morning, and put it up to her eyes. She stilled, her body taut and at attention, as he tied the little cloth off with a firm knot.

“Good,” he breathed. “Look at how far we’ve come. It wasn’t that long ago I’d have you going all to pieces on me just for a little tie-up. But you’ve learned I can be good to you, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed.

“And you’ve learned I don’t have to be, too.”

The answering shiver, nervous and aroused and eager, jerked through the leather strap of the belt tied at her throat. “Yes, sir.” Her voice was barely audible.

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Learning to Surrender Book One: Accidental Secrets (Discipline, Submission, Exhibition, and Humiliation)

Depending on who you talk to, Troy Baldwin is anything from an uptown playboy to a business-obsessed shark, but everyone would agree he’s sharp, handsome, and dangerous as they come. When Heather learns the sleepy little company she works for is getting bought out, there’s one name everybody hopes not to hear.

Her goal is to keep her head down and survive the corporate shake-up, but when a chance encounter with the new owner and CEO reveals more of both of them than they ever intended, that little plan goes out the window. They’ll have to keep each other’s secret, but with a man like this, things are never so simple …

Reader Advisory: This story is part of a series intended for mature audiences only and which features intensely erotic situations, an enigmatic and dangerously sexy billionaire, the younger woman he draws under his spell, forced exhibition, public humiliation, discipline, dominance, and rough sex. All characters are 18 or older.


Heather looked around and couldn’t help but agree. This was definitely a higher end, highly maintained, and better looking group of people than was typical even in the nicer clubs in this part of town. To be honest, she really had no idea what to make of all of this. In some ways it felt like just setting foot in here was secret and illegal. That was just the vibe it gave off. But in other ways it felt almost disappointingly sedate. Where was all the action? When was something going to happen to justify the courage it had taken to venture here?

As though the universe had heard her silent complaints and decided to teach her a lesson, the doors they had just entered through opened again. A woman stepped inside, followed closely by a man. The woman was beautiful, with dark hair and a long coat. The man was tall and his demeanor was easy and confident. He had a piece of leather in his hand.

Heather stared at it in idle curiosity, and then realized that it was attached to something else. It wasn’t just a little handle of leather, it was a leash. It was a leash connected to the woman’s neck.

Heather’s mouth opened in shock. She hadn’t noticed it at first, because the lapels of the woman’s coat were turned up, but yes, beneath the coat a dark band of metal glistened around the woman’s throat. She shifted as the man led her over to a table, and the coat opened slightly to reveal what was beneath. Heather’s eyes got a little bigger. In amazement, she elbowed Nicole in the ribs.

Beneath the coat, the woman wore a leather harness. It was dark to match the leash, and it wound around her rib cage and down over her hips. Her breasts were completely bare, emerging pale and soft between the stiff straps of leather. The man twitched the leash in his hand and she jerked and followed his lead.

Heather could feel her face growing hot. She felt paralyzed. She couldn’t believe how … much she was turned on …

She studied the man’s face, cool and approving as he watched the woman move in front of him across the floor with small, constrained steps. The woman flushed frequently and kept glancing back at the man. Honestly, she looked like she’d just been fucked – like she’d just been fucked really, really well.

The pair joined a table with several couples already seated in place. She kept waiting for some of them to react. If not them, then maybe some of the people at the other tables. But no, as far as she could tell by the patrons, there was nothing going on that was at all out of the ordinary.

Nicole had been saying something to her. With difficulty, she tore her eyes away and turned to her friend.

“What did you say?”

“I said it’s rude to stare like that.”


“Did you think you were going to come to a place like this and not see any skin?”

Heather shook her head. Nicole was apparently back to knowing everything. “I – I didn’t know what to expect.”

Nicole nodded sagely. “Collars are really big in places like this. If you’re wearing one, the other men know you’re taken.”

Heather took a long drink and coughed a little as it went down the wrong pipe. “I always thought the idea of a wedding ring was plenty romantic.”

Nicole gave her a pitying look.

“I’m just – ” she started, her eyes tracing back to the woman at the table. Now that she was looking for it, she noticed several other women with conspicuous leather chokers around their throats. They tended to be sitting a bit more upright and better mannered than the rest of the crowd, as though there was something waiting for the woman who let her good behavior slip.

Heather had always had a very secret fascination with discipline. When she’d been younger she’d found an old teacher’s spanking manual on a forgotten corner of the elementary school library and stolen it on an impulse. Now, sitting here, a lot of things she’d never intended to confront in public were getting prominently shoved in her face.

She shifted in her seat, uncomfortably aware of how wet she had gotten watching the newest pair of club patrons.

“I’m not really sure I should be here,” she muttered.

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Transforming the Intern

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, bimbofication, the use of potent aphrodisiacs, multiple partners, medical examination, a dominant older man and the increasingly submissive, fertile young subject of his experiments. All characters are 18 or older.

Fresh out of college, Kelly Munson has managed to land an internship at a prestigious behavioral research institute. Resigned to making coffee and working the copier, she’s just thrilled to be in the same building as the famous and handsome researcher Dr. James Vellano. Little does she realize just how intimately his next project will involve her.

When a chance encounter catches his eye, she quickly becomes the center of his newest project. His studies of sexual pleasure have led him to design a program to create the ideal bimbo: voluptuous, horny, and desperate to please. Now he has the perfect test subject, and he’s prepared to work intimately and untiringly with her until he has shaped her into his perfect sexual plaything, though of course he’ll be willing to share.


I lived in a rhythmic haze, sometimes completely caught up in the changes I was experiencing and at other times regaining enough of a clear head to understand what was happening. Gradually I began to recognize that this wasn’t about unleashing some empowering sense of sexuality. It was about making me into the perfect bimbo, a little sex kitten dwelling in the world of sensual pleasure. At first the thought alarmed me, but as the treatments went on, the more the thought excited me. I began to consciously work towards the little things that might please Dr. Vellano and bring me in line with what he wanted me to be. I awaited new measurements with breathless excitement. When my first reaction to any request wasn’t immediate and eager obedience, I stumbled over myself to apologize and beg his forgiveness.

I was starting to have trouble with complicated ideas, and even that I began to appreciate. The complicated ideas were all just distractions anyways. The simple things were the important things. Pleasure. Obedience. Keeping myself sexy and available. When anything that didn’t have to do with those things came up, men like Dr. Vellano were happy to worry about them for me in exchange for a little of those things that I did understand.

But best of all was the effect my changes had on them. That was where I took my greatest satisfaction. When I had first wandered in through their doors they had looked on me like a nice piece of clay, something they could do something with but not terribly interesting in my own right. But now I often saw their admiring glances. I saw the way they responded to my body and the little things I did to please them.

It was Dr. Vellano in particular that I focused on. I knew he wanted me, and that he was only managing to restrain himself because he didn’t want to interfere with the experiment in its early stages. But I didn’t care about the experiment. I cared about him, and I knew I could make him happy if he let me.

So I became a bit of a bad girl. I watched for the little things I did that most affected him and did them at every opportunity. I came and sat on his lap whenever he was too distracted to immediately shoo me away. Once or twice I managed to brush his groin with a thigh or a hand and could tell I made him hard. He had created his perfect sex toy and now I took it upon myself to be sure he got to play with me before his sense of responsibility left us both unhappy.

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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.


“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.”

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