Accomodating the Biker Gang

Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and feature intensely erotic situations, alpha male biker outlaws and BBWs, multiple partners, public sex and humiliation, lactation, the use of potent aphrodisiacs, exhibitionist themes, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Cindy Hancase is all business, all the time, and it’s her willingness to do anything to get ahead that’s helped her build her little clothing line into a full-fledged fashion brand. But she’s taken things just a little too far when she turns to moneylaundering to help her struggling bottom line, a decision that brings her in contact with types of men she might not be ready to handle.

Now when she tells the outlaw MC president she needs to take a break from their agreement, he seems to want to help and offers her a pill that will help her focus and get her books in order. But soon, she finds out that helping her get ahead wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, and the drug he’s given her is going to do just about everything but help her focus on paperwork.

Parts of her body might get enhanced, but her brain certainly won’t be one of them.

Before she knows what’s happening, new feelings have drowned out the little voice that says no and her urges have pushed her into the arms and at the mercy of the gang leader and his biker buddies, who are more than happy to help her fill her sudden cravings …

Excerpt:

What he was telling me seemed to be important, but I kept getting distracted by the man sitting nearest to me on the right side of the table. He had a short beard and a lean, well-muscled body. He had laid his jacket across the back of his chair and was wearing just a thin tank top that rippled with his muscles when he shifted. He was one of the ones with pure lust in his eyes, and those eyes hadn’t left my ass since I walked in the room. He seemed to want to do something and I kind of wanted him to do it, whatever it was. The way he was looking at me sent little shivers right up and down my needy body.

“No, it wasn’t. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, now staring openly at the man to my right. He looked up and gave me a wink and I giggled a little nervously.

“It’s a drug that makes people look and feel like you’re looking and feeling right now.”

“Horny?” I asked before I could think to stop myself.

He laughed. “Exactly, sweet thing. Exactly. But don’t you worry, we’ve got a good idea what to do about it.”

“My tits are bigger, too, aren’t they? I’m sort of having trouble remembering exactly how big they used to be.”

He stood up and walked around the table. In a moment I was standing paralyzed in front of him. He put out two rough-palmed hands and cupped my breasts, hefting and massaging them gently. I let out a low moan as the pleasure of his touch ran through me.

“I’d say so,” he confirmed. “But don’t you worry. That’s what it’s supposed to do. And we know just what to do about that, too.”

My breath was in my throat as I looked into his face. I had never been this close to him before, or any of the criminals I worked with against my better judgment. The faint aroma of liquor, gasoline, and cigarettes spiced his thick masculine scent.

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s Bimbo Lawyer Series with full consent of the original author.

Find it exclusively on Amazon.

Curves and Sex Pills

Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and feature intensely erotic situations, alpha males and BBWs, multiple partners, public sex and humiliation, hazing, medical examinations, the use of potent aphrodisiacs, exhibitionist themes, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Curves and Sex Pills contains three fun, sexy stories of BBW bimbofication, menage, and public exhibition:

Horny Pill for the Curvy Girl

Sandra Malke has had a tough week rushing the Phi Gamma sorority: 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.

The Doctor Prefers Curves

Between a tough job and tougher grad school classes, Rachel McAlister 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 Rachel 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 the voluptuous young woman in his exam room for monitoring, the truth is bound to be unleashed before long.

Busty for the Billionaire

Sasha’s four years in college were supposed to prepare her for bigger and better things, but working for a man like Elliot Cheever 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 give Sasha the curves she’s always wanted and kick her 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. Cheever 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.

Notice: These titles include themes and passages that have been adapted from the works of Jessica Whitethread with full consent of the original author.

Find it exclusively on Amazon.

Busty for the Billionaire

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

Sasha’s four years in college were supposed to prepare her for bigger and better things, but working for a man like Elliot Cheever 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 give Sasha the curves she’s always wanted and kick her 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. Cheever 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 never came close to mustering 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 status of comparative incompetence 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?

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s Bimbo at Work with full consent of the original author.

Find it exclusively on Amazon.

The Doctor Prefers Curves

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

Between a tough job and tougher grad school classes, Rachel McAlister 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 Rachel 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 the voluptuous young woman 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, Rachel. 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. Peterson. 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. Peterson came over next to me. I saw his eyes flick over my body and caught a momentary gleam of desire in those dark, alluring eyes.

“Is my p**** showing, Dr. Peterson?” 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. Peterson. 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. Peterson. 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, Rachel,” he chided.

“Sorry, Dr. Peterson,” I apologized.

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s Bimbo Side Effects with full consent of the original author.

Find it exclusively on Amazon.

Horny Pill for the Curvy Girl

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

Sandra Malke has had a tough week rushing the Phi Gamma sorority: 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.

“Jenna, I don’t think we gave her enough,” Mary-Anne 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 Mary-Anne 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. I didn’t exactly have a body type that every outfit flattered, but this was a good one; I looked all tits and ass. They’d like me, or at least I hoped they would. I ran a hand down the back of my thighs and then more enthusiastically down my front.

“Soon, you said?” I asked Mary-Anne.

“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.

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s The Public Sex Dare with full consent of the original author.

Find it exclusively on Amazon.

Curves and Teachers Bundle

Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, taboo teacher/student relations, sexy alpha males and young inexperienced BBWs, discipline, spanking, humiliation, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Curves and Teachers Bundle contains three stories:

My Student’s Upper Hand

If she’s being honest, Katie Beckman 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. Robert, an undergraduate after completing his military service, has discovered a dirty little secret that Katie 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 shee still gets the punishment she so very much deserves.

Professor’s Discipline

Joanna Michaels has always found ways of weedling what she wants out of the people around her, 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 Peter Andrews 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.

The Dirty Thought that Slipped Out

Chrissy doesn’t know why she started the rumor about Professor Simmons, her young and handsome literature professor. Maybe it was 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. Munson himself, and when Chrissy 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 Simmons about the whole thing, too? Surely he’ll find his own ways to settle accounts, and all Chrissy can do is wait and see which method will leave her more sore.

Excerpt:

“I’m going to punish you, Katie,” 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.

“Katie? 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.

“Katie,” 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.

Robert 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.

Notice: These titles include themes and passages that have been adapted from several works by Jessica Whitethread with full consent of the original author.

Find it exclusively on Amazon.

The Dirty Thought That Slipped Out

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

Chrissy doesn’t know why she started the rumor about Professor Simmons, her young and handsome literature professor. Maybe it was 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. Munson himself, and when Chrissy 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 Simmons about the whole thing, too? Surely he’ll find his own ways to settle accounts, and all Chrissy can do is wait and see which method will leave her more sore.

Excerpt:

The ensuing silence was awful. After daring the initial glance towards Professor Simmons 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, Chrissy.”

“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?”

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s Naughty Rumors with full consent of the original author.

Find it exclusively on Amazon.

Professor’s Discipline

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

Joanna Michaels has always found ways of weedling what she wants out of the people around her, 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 Peter Andrews 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 Tom, 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, Joanna,” 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 increasingly self-conscious.

“What are you doing, Joanna?” 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 fucking 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.

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s Caught By My Professor with full consent of the original author.

Find it exclusively on Amazon.

My Student’s Upper Hand

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

If she’s being honest, Katie Beckman 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. Robert, an undergraduate after completing his military service, has discovered a dirty little secret that Katie 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 broad 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, Katie. 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.

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s Disciplining the Teacher series with full consent of the original author.

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Yielding Curves: The Second Trilogy

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

Victoria’s first hours in her new master’s house have been intense ones, but she knows they have only scratched the surface. Before she has done little more than catch her breath, it’s time to meet the other submissives in the master’s household and learn just exactly what she has gotten herself into. Far from being allowed to wade in slowly, Victoria’s initiation into this tight little community will mean getting tossed directly into the center of its many different flavors of discipline and power play. By the time her first morning has come to a close, she will have a lot more to think about than why there isn’t a number on the mailbox.

Yielding Curves: The Second Trilogy follows Victoria over the course of her week as a submissive in the house of discipline run by the mysterious leader of the Tremboix Society. What begins as a hesitant experiment in the world of forbidden pleasure quickly careens into something much more serious, and the promises that they would not become too attached begin to erode. In the heat of the moment – and the moments get very hot indeed – who can say what will become possible and what will remain unattainable fantasy?

Excerpt

I turned just enough to catch how her face fell and reddened at the news. “I…” she began, but trailed off.

“Up here.”

She drew a breath and stood. The legs of her chair made a scraping sound against the hardwood of the floor and she winced.

“Here,” he repeated unsympathetically, pointing to a spot at the head of the table.

She moved into place on unsteady legs and then turned back to regard us – the audience of her humiliation and punishment – with that blushing face. She reddened very attractively, I noticed with slight envy. Her cheeks took on a very soft glow and her eyes stayed very round as she watched Master.

“Tell me,” he said to her as she stood at attention.

“Tell what, sir?” she asked.

“Why did you fail the inspection?”

“I – I don’t know, sir. I didn’t know I had until you told me.”

“You know, Mary-Anne, I don’t really believe you.”

She looked at the ground, flustered and stammering. After a few seconds she fell silent and she closed her eyes. Master watched her coolly. Another moment ticked by and then she opened her eyes and raised them to meet his.

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s His to Train series with full consent of the original author.

Find it on Smashwords, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google Play or another online marketplace of your preference.