Compelled by impulse, suspicion and obsession, Emily Booker hacks into her husband's computer files discovering his secret life as a sexual master. Shocked but sexually ignited, Emily begs to become his slave. Though Justin reluctantly agrees to her request, he feels betrayed and her training becomes his revenge. Rapidly forcing her deep into submission, Justin strips away her life a piece at a time: career, friends, property, even her marriage disappears until there is nothing left but 'em', the perfect submissive. She is humiliated before masters, stretched for double penetration, whipped, bound and finally given away. While em looks on with longing, Justin entertains his other slaves in the bed his novice submissives once shared with him. Is this the life she truly desires? In the wings another would-be master with his eyes focused on this beautiful prize waits… her trainer Dylan Kincaid. A confrontation between masters is certain… "Sell her?" Justin chortled darkly. "Maybe to some Sultan for a night, but sell her outright? Hell no! I'd be crazy. em's worth a fortune to me… I figure I can retire on the cash she'll bring."
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May 29, 2003
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Excerpt from His Latest Acquisition by Lizbeth Dusseau
kari was a young slave at twenty-eight.
"Sit on your bare ass," Justin Booker whispered over their first drink.
"Yes, sir," she said without hesitation. It was a struggle pulling the tight black Lycra up her hips enough to bare her behind. Her tight body billowed, oozing sexual hunger. Black lashes batted at the man, while a coy grin surfaced on her lips. She wouldn't be noticed with her skirt practically tucked up around her waist--the chairs were closed around the back keeping her hips hidden. And though the trained eye of their waitress might detect her secret, she was assured of little real exposure and a good deal of thrill.
"You wear no panties?" Justin asked.
"No, sir, and I'm shaved."
"And you keep the protocols because you assume I'll want the same?"
"Perhaps, but it also pleases me. I think submissively when I'm this way--reminded of the covenant I made with myself."
"And that is?"
"To live what I feel, sir. It's not easy being a sex slave when the world would tell me I'm deranged."
"Do you fight that?"
"Most of my life. I work with three lawyers who litigate sexual harassment lawsuits."
"Little ironic, don't you think?"
"Maybe, sir. But I don't consider myself harassed by my master."
She was sharp, managing to sound firm and intelligent without being aggressive. It was quite a gift. Justin imagined that she might be naturally submissive, something she didn't adopt--as it was with brit who needed forms and regulations to make her submission real. He liked the way this one smiled, innocently, all the while her mind aflutter with questions she would never ask a master unless she was told to voice her needs.
"What is it you need from me?" he wondered.
She thought a moment before replying. "A man of substance who's not afraid to make me bleed if that's what I need."
His eyebrows raised. "Do you need to bleed?"
"It hardly ever comes to that... but I can't stand ninnies. If I'm going to live this way--as a slave--I have to live it the way that makes me feel alive. I don't want this to sound as if I'm topping from inside my shackles, I just respect what drives me. Usually that turns on the men who want me, so why not say so?"
"You've said so very clearly," he stated, sounding coolly grim.
"And I've put you off, haven't I?" She looked slightly chagrinned and disappointed.
"Not at all. You're direct and that is more important than being deferential right now. But to be my slave requires that you forget what you want and focus on my commands. If you're lucky, you'll get what you're looking for. It's a risk for us both."
They stared each other down while eating bowls of chowder and crusty bread, letting the food soothe the rough spots where their mutual anxiety would make them wince under other circumstances. They'd been through these negotiations in their on-line conversations, but there was something important about meeting face to face, hearing the words, the inflections in a tone of voice, seeing facial ticks and quivering jaws, and tiny muscles clenched carefully. It was an important time in a submissive's life, before she adopted the conventions of a master to suit his needs. If they did not fit now, now was the time to speak...
"Are you pierced?" he asked.
"Four times in my labia--two each side." Saying so made her blush--which seemed odd for a practiced slave, and yet, the blush was charming on her brightening face. "My former master intended to pierce me four more times, so that he could lace my crotch closed with ribbons." She quivered as she spoke.
"That aroused you, didn't it?"
"Perhaps instead, I'll dangle bells between your rings."
She giggled, her fanny wiggling into the chair with an erotic shimmy.
Justin observed the move, allowing the sexual tease of it to arouse his fantasy. "I want you to cum now," he ordered her quietly--though the command was distinct and firmly given.
"Yes, sir," kari answered as her right hand immediately dipped between her thighs.
She stared into his eyes, hers glassy and shimmering, wet like the cunt she played with, while her legs parted wide to accommodate the movements of her hand.
There was the roar of the restaurant for background music, the clatter of dishes, clinking glasses and bellowing laughter arising like a petulant cloud. She was in her own world, not this other one, drawing in the aroma of food, and the feel of his eyes, responding with her groin doing a gentle leapfrog, muscles spasming and expanding, sensation brewing to peaks then letting go, then shooting like rockets through her thighs and pussy as the tumult of desire crescendoed. She toyed with the rings, tugging them gently, then with the wet folds of her cunt, as her hot elixir seeped out across her hand. Her breathing quickened, her eyes darkening to a smoky hue that like the atmosphere around them reeked with sexual tease--and more than the tease, the darker aspects of their mutual need. She panted heavily, fully aware of where she was, then not aware at all as her body suddenly clenched ready to explode.
With her face forming a pained grimace, she gasped, "Please, sir, now..."
"Now, kari," he gave permission, then sat back to watch the climax move through her body, viewing the signs of satisfaction rippling across her face. From the agony of that first hard spasmodic leap, to the tremulous vibrations of those thereafter, until she was floating, happy and mesmerized by the physical results.
He found her submission profound and what he needed. She gave his body new life, and at that moment, a raging hard-on.
He could take her in the restroom and use her--something that he'd done with slaves before. But his erection would calm, as would kari's present state of post ecstatic bliss. He'd wait to satisfy himself until later when he could take her darkly.
"Let me see your hand," he said.
She blushed again as she withdrew the cum-soaked fingers from her cunt.
"Lick them," he directed.
She did so coyly, running them around her mouth as though she were eating a lollipop.
She was a sassy brat, cute, and obviously finagling. His mind was full of wicked thoughts concerning her. No, he wouldn't wait to punish her breasts--they'd be marked before the night was gone.
"In the alley, kari."
He moved from his chair and pulled her with him into the crowd that jammed the bar. They snaked their way through, bumping bodies with half-drunk patrons, and finally freed themselves through a side door leading to the alley behind the building.
The ripe air smelled of fish, fried food and beer. She was half in subspace--that sexual and abandoned place of surrender--and only half rational, feeling drunk as if she'd just poured a bottle of wine down her throat. Justin felt the same inebriation of sensation; his cock had hardly softened since he felt her cum.
He pushed her deep into the alley, between broken buildings in this marginal district of old warehouses and abandoned businesses. Through a tiny path where fertile trees, fully leafed from thick spring rain, survived the climate of decay, where the world still teemed in wicked glory. Life throbbed on, the way their crotches throbbed--hot and moist like the night.
Between buildings, under fuzzy stars and swaying trees, Justin pressed kari's ass to a wall, backed off and faced her with a scowl. They were alone in the deserted back street, with the sound of the bistro music still in their heads, and the smell of bistro smoke and food still tickling their nostrils.
"Raise your skirt," he ordered.
She obeyed, shaking nervously, but happy. Moist cum stuck to the black fabric, shimmering in the dim streetlights from one block over. Her pretty pussy still glistened; it was too wet of a night for the thick cream to dry fast.
Justin smiled. What a slut! His thoughts of her were as crude as his plans. "Let me see your breasts," he followed the fantasy to its rightful end--seeing the fleshy mounds in his sights and ready to be beaten.
She was easy. Without the restraints inside the bistro to force appropriate behavior, she fell into a wanton state... assuming she'd be alone with her new master, privately displaying herself with the risk of exposure high enough to suit her body thrill.
Two buttons undone, her breasts were bare with the extravagant flesh trembling. Pale nipples poked the air as they drew tight... tiny, but tempting to her master's eye. He was salivating, thinking he'd have to bed her soon--or better yet, tie her to a rack where he could torture the tempting nubs with his teeth.
"Pinch your nipples," he whispered the order.
kari squeezed them, with a kittenish teasing look in her eyes. She licked her lips like an exotic dancer.
"Harder." He wanted them to hurt.
Her sweet sensuous face began to change; and she bit her lip as the two fingers pressed the tiny sliver of flesh more vigorously.
"Harder, slave," he egged her on.
She took a deep breath, rolled her eyes, dug with her short painted nails into the buds, and breathed out the pain.
"It's never hard enough when you do it yourself, is it?"
"No, sir," she was begging him with her expression because she wanted it harder.
But she wouldn't Dom the night. If he allowed her to lead him now, she'd never find her submissiveness with him. He'd mark her in his own way, exactly as kari hoped he would.
Pulling a tit whip from his jacket, Justin watched her reaction as the leather falls came into view--two dozen thin strips of cut hide dangling from the wooden handle. The short simple whip was right for marking tender skin. It left welts, thin ones that would rise above the milky breadth of her breasts like angry streamers of fire.
"Hands above your head."
As she obeyed the order, he listened to her first soft whimper--that sign of satisfaction finding her submissive prayers answered.
"If I'm any good, these marks will last. But then I don't know your flesh well and how it takes punishment."
"It marks easy, sir, but welts fade fast."
"Well, then, I'll see that they don't."
She wanted to smile, but that would look too eager, too inviting. She kept her scared rabbit expression, her body clenching as the first strike smacked against her right breast. She gasped, the sound inaudible. The next strike landed on her left breast with the same muted, pained and welcome response.
Letting the whip lag in his hand, Justin moved forward to inspect the wounds where they appeared as splashes of pink color.
She peered through the night, longingly without saying what she understood. She wouldn't be that bold, but Justin didn't need her to tell him that these stripes wouldn't last. He backed away and struck again, this time four times with increasing intensity so that her last gasp was audible enough for him to hear, and the resulting color of the wounds was more to his liking.
Satisfied, Justin pressed his hand to her cunt and began to finger the wet warmth, liking the feel of her rings, her hairless pubic mound and the way her clit throbbed as he pressed his finger against the inflated nub.
She gasped again, this time she moved into him with her bare breasts rubbing against his chest. He could feel the fire at her nipples even through his shirt.
"Ah, sir," her soft whimpers aroused him.
"Cum, slut, I don't have all night."
Her body bucked against his a second later, her cunt grinding into the hand that played it. He pushed her off with the hole still dripping before the last of her spasms died away.
"Give me your hands, kari," he said, while pocketing the whip.
He had rope inside his jacket, enough to bind her hands behind her. Jerking her about, he wrapped them tight, then jerked her back and pushed her to the asphalt.
"Suck!" he ordered as he withdrew his cock from his pants.
She didn't need commands to follow this through. Her mouth opened naturally, swallowing the thick meat deep into her throat. She worked the shaft with her hungry lips groveling in the nastiness of the back alley blowjob.
Justin could hardly grab her short spiked hair, but with a firm hand behind her head, he controlled her efforts, forcing the erection deeper, then pulling out to let her lick his heady musk. She understood his rhythms and worked her lips eagerly until he spewed cum down her throat with the last of it dribbling across her mouth.
"You want it rough, slave. I will oblige."
She looked up at him, face glistening with his juices. "Thank you, sir."
She was grateful. He could see that in her eyes as a look of relaxed sensuality stared back at him.
Pulling the bound blonde to her feet, he caught her warm body against his chest as she stumbled into him. They hadn't kissed... and they wouldn't now, even if their lips had met almost by accident. It wasn't time to be tender. kari needed something else--a darker substance that roused his dark demonic passions. She fueled his need, and he answered hers.
This would be a good match.
Pushed away, kari fell back against the wall, limbs and torso slack against the scratchy brick--head cocked, wrists bound, breasts still bare and cunt exposed. She was the perfect portrait of submissive abdication--sensuous, tender and wanting... even now... even after all he gave her.
She stared at him in wonder with a dozen questions bubbling inside her cum weary mind.
Would he walk her from the alley to his car? Like this? Half naked? Hands bound? Face smeared with his juice.
Would he require the public demonstration of her submissiveness?
Would he expose her lust to an uneducated world?
Her mind reeled on.
Justin was parked on the edge of the lot just outside the bistro. He could force her through the alley to the car with little significant exposure--and yet, it seemed like a pretty gutsy chance to take... even at this rowdy bistro.
He sensed her apprehension, and after gauging her rising fear, he smiled. "No, slave, I won't compromise you that way. There are other ways to exhibit you that are much safer for us both."
After buttoning her tee shirt, he pulled the Lycra skirt over her rounded hips, then grabbed her arms and led her through the back street maze and across the parking lot to his car.
Her breasts ached with a good hurt. Her excitement peaked again as she wondered if she'd be seen. Though there was no one there to see her climb in the car with her hands tied behind her, the possibility of being observed served its purpose. Justin Booker could collar her now. There would be no more questions, no debate. She knew where she belonged.
Justin untied the knots before he dropped kari in front of her apartment.
"Be ready when I contact you," he told her.
"Yes, sir." Eagerness and lust were written in the subtle lines and shadows of her pretty face. And above the buttons on her tee shirt, the marks from the whip peeked out as a reminder of the night's adventure. She wanted to drop to her knees right there to honor him. But that kind of groveling would have to wait.
"I'll be sending you further instructions through email," he said as the car door slammed closed.
"Yes, sir," she replied with a winsome, longing smile.
"Now, get on," he waved his hand. "I have places to go."