Pictures don't lie! As Carlton Darrow sifts through dozens of photographs of his beautiful but cheating wife, Marni, he turns to his PI friend Charlie Nash, making a bold announcement. He wants Charlie--a Dom with a nasty sadistic streak--to transform his wife into the perfect submissive. What neither man realizes is that Marni is driven by a lust for dark and dangerous sex that began at eighteen, when she was kidnapped in a foreign country and brutally assaulted before her ransom could be paid. Charlie's task may be harder than he expects!
As soon as Marni meets the ever-charming Charlie, she falls under his charismatic spell, finding herself eagerly submitting to the outrageous acts he demands. The mesmerized Marni follows this sexy stranger into an alley where he has her strip naked and fucks her against an open stairwell. Afterwards, she's led half-dressed to his car, and rides through town naked and masturbating on his command. She may be ashamed by her bad behavior, but she cannot stop herself.
In the days that follow, Charlie pops up out of nowhere, engaging the willing Marni in semi-public sex, nudity, spanking, bondage, punishment and finally a trip to Percy's SM Dungeon where suddenly, without warning, Carlton appears announcing that she now belongs to Charlie Nash. If she wants her marriage back, she'll become a proper submissive wife under Charlie's relentless instruction.
To save her marriage, Marni submits to Charlie's firm control. She must follow Charlie's orders to the letter, learn his grueling postures of submission, and worst of all, wear a devious device to ensure her chastity. When she misbehaves, she is soundly punished.
Marni takes to her training with some enthusiam, sure that she'll soon have her husband back. But just when Carlton is about to reclaim his wife, Marni's obsession for risky sex takes her down again and Charlie catches her with another man. Will a true confession about her imprisonment be the answer? Can a punishment before a tribunal of sadistic men cure her? Is there any hope that Marni can save her marriage and find the love she so desires? Or will Carlton and Charlie decide that there is no way the incorrigible slut can be redeemed?
A passionate story of love, sex and treacherous sexual need. Its graphic content also includes piercing, coercion, electrical play and hard anal.
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November 30, 2009
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Excerpt from Stained Sheets by Lizbeth Dusseau
Yesterday was like a dream, an unbelievable dream. I woke up swearing that I would behave myself, that I didn't need anything outrageous to make me happy. Carlton has been so sweet and I've been so totally fixed on him. For two weeks, I've lived like a nun in public and a whore for Carlton in private.
But then I arrived at the diner to pick up my coffee as I usually do.
"The usual, Marni?" Joey asked me. "How about my new specialty--with chocolate and cream?" He's a big, burly guy, sweet grin, gentle eyes, and I always turn down his special potions.
"Nope, just the usual."
He shook his head and shrugged, the same playful look in his soft brown eyes that I always get. Then he turned to pour my coffee into a Styrofoam cup and snap the lid on.
"May I buy that for you?" I heard this unexpected voice behind me, then watched a hand reach out over the counter and hand Joey a five dollar bill.
"Please no, that's not necessary," I said without really thinking. Then I looked back, expecting to graciously decline the unexpected offer, but instead, I'm speechless, staring at the most handsome man I've ever seen. My mind reeled for a moment, thinking that I must have seen him somewhere, like in a movie, maybe? Print ads for menswear? He's GQ gorgeous maybe, but not that glossy, not that perfect, just hot and sexy, a boyish grin, sandy blond hair, and the most stunning, clear blue eyes. All-American Mr. Right. I didn't know what to say, and by the time I finally found my voice again he'd made his rejoinder.
"No, it is necessary," he said, assuring me of the fact by paying my check and picking up my coffee with one hand, taking my hand in the other.
"You always this forward?" I asked, once we were sitting in the corner booth by the window. The morning traffic and crowds of people were passing hurriedly by. I should have been among then if I planned to be at work by nine.
"Yeah, sometimes, I'm this forward," he said.
"But I really do have to go."
"No, you don't," as if he actually knew me--and knew that I was not going to be late to work--I pretty much set my own hours. He put his hand over mine. Something in that touch thrilled me to the bone. I don't believe in witchery, in spells, but an incredibly strange feeling moved through me and I wilted, my will seeming to evaporate like steam.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Charlie Nash. And you?"
"You come to this diner every morning Marni Wilder-Darrow," he said. Which was true. I stop here for coffee before going to the Journal building.
"What do you do, watch me?" Didn't know whether to be suspicious and scared, or flattered by the attention.
"And you've observed me?"
"Yes, I've observed you."
The tables at Clancy's are close, very close and we were sitting about as close together as we could in the corner, which conveniently allowed him to place his warm hand on my warm thigh. Like the touch of his hand on the counter stunned me, this stunned me too. The heat moved from my thigh to between my legs to that randy zenith, tickling my crotch and my love hole. Damn! This man was sexy.
"What do you want from me?" I asked.
"Same thing you want from me Marni Wilder-Darrow."
What did I want? Did he know something I didn't? Had he read my mind before I read it myself? My heart was pounding hot inside my chest. This guy was not good for my new resolve to stay faithful to my husband. Five minutes in his presence, under the grip of his mesmerizing eyes, and I knew something sexual would result.
But then, much to my surprise, his huge, beautiful grin changed. He pushed out of his chair and rose to his feet. "I know you have to go to work, I just wanted a couple minutes. That's all."
"What? That's all?"
"Yeah," he nodded, pleasantly. "Have a good day, Marni Wilder." Then he took off for the door.
I let him push through the bodies that crowded toward the diner's cash register, then I jumped to my feet. By the time I reached the door, he was on the street and half-way down the block. I spotted him as I was moving onto the sidewalk, his head just a speck in front of me. I began to run, or at least walk as fast as I could in his direction finding myself starting to catch up with him, feeling buoyed by the prospect, but wondering in the back of my mind, why the hell was I doing anything this risky on a Monday morning--on any morning for that matter.
When I saw him turn into a side street, my heart leapt with excitement as I followed seconds later into what turned out to be an alley. By the time I made the same turn, he was still there, just inside, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. As I stopped in my tracks, he struck the match.
"You smoke?" He turned the cigarette toward me.
He nodded and brought the cigarette to his lips for a first puff.
Then he began moving deeper into the alley, obviously expecting me to follow him. I couldn't help myself. He walked until he moved behind an open stairwell, where we'd be half-hidden from the street twenty feet away.
"Did you call your job, tell them you'd be having sex with me?" he asked, his tone now flippant, even curt.
I stared at him all numb-like and baffled. "No, I didn't call my job," I came back, then I added without thinking, "I don't have to."
He took a drag of his cigarette, drawing the smoke in, holding it inside and then releasing it in one long, foggy breath. Because it had been part of him, I wanted to breathe in every bit and make it part of me. I pushed myself back against the railing of the stairwell, my hands behind me as if I were pinned. I suppose I was. The sexual desire between us became downright needy. It moved in all around my body, through my pores, splashing out on him. He responded swaying in time to a rhythm we both heard with our inner ears. Never, never had I felt like this before with any man, any lover, anyone.
Between drags, head cocked, staring into my eyes, he said in the tone of an order, "Take off your clothes."
"You know what I said." His voice turned grim, even dictatorial.
Yes, I did. I couldn't lie. But take my clothes off now? In an alley? In broad daylight?
Before my mind reasoned through all my options, I was unbuttoning my blouse, and pulling it off, unclasping my bra, unzipping my skirt, sliding my hose slowly down my legs and pulling them over my feet--once I flipped my shoes into the pile with my clothes--a feat awkwardly accomplished as I blushed with excited embarrassment. Naked, I could barely breathe. And with his eyes moving over every inch of my body, inspecting every flaw, noting every detail with casual detachment, I began to feel as if I'd entered into an alternate reality where my hanging out naked in an alley was nothing abnormal.
Charlie finished his cigarette, dropping the butt on the asphalt, then moved in against me. He unzipped his fly, raised my one leg and after briefly fingering my wet opening, he slipped his erection into the hungering hole.
"Yes, goddammit! Yes!" he seethed under his breath, then his lips met mine. That kiss opened wide with our tongues engaging as significantly as the cock and cunt below. Our movements were hard and erratic; strike after strike of his body pounding into me, my back and ass driven into the concrete and railings; inside me, my mind screamed, Yes, do it harder, yes yes yes, Charlie yes!
He let go, crushing me against the stairwell while pressing his erection as deep as it would go and ejaculating to the moon and back. While he was lost for a while in the blinding sensations of orgasm, his hands mauled my tits with a firmness that took me to the edge. Then suddenly he pulled out--before I could finish--and not missing a single beat, pushed me to my knees so I could lick his dripping member of every last drop of cum.
He stared down at me, his expression still reeking with lust. I felt more like a slut than I ever have in my life--and that's saying a great deal, considering where I've been and what I've done.
"Put on your blouse and panties," he ordered, as if suddenly we were in a big hurry. He kept looking through the stairwell beyond me to the street, maybe expecting a cop to come bust us any minute. None did.
I dressed quickly, just my blouse and panties, then Charlie grabbed the rest of my clothes, and taking my hand led me deeper into the alley, then into a parking lot full of cars. There was hardly a human in sight; although there were a couple of dogs sniffing around.
"I should let him sniff you," he said dismissively, like he owned me, but then he kept moving until he found a late model black Lexus toward the back of the lot. His car.
"Get in," he said on opening the door. I was more than happy to slip in the passenger's seat, safe from the risk that had just sent my adrenalin pumping higher than the stars. I breathed a relieved sigh. I'm sure it was foolish to think I was actually safe with a stranger who had the power to make me strip in broad daylight and the balls to fuck me, all with my unchallenged consent.
He threw my clothes in the back seat--here, I thought I was going to finish dressing, but apparently not--then he started the car, pulled away and we sped through the parking lot to the street. We drove through the city streets going god knows where, although in my heated sexual state, I felt nothing but exhilaration.
He looked at me with a broad grin. "You are really something."
"You are something to make me do that," I said.
"Yeah, see, I had you figured from the start."
"You did? How's that?"
He shrugged. "I'm a keen judge of character."
"That must mean mine is sorely lacking." For the first time since this all began I remembered Carlton with a pang of guilt. How could I do this to him, again? Had I no conscience?
"No matter. I like a girl who takes risks."
He steered the car through the city streets, keeping his eye on the road and on me. I had no idea where we were going, and I don't think he did either. He seemed a little more settled, while I was still keyed up; in all the excitement, I hadn't come myself, although that hardly mattered. Just this moment with this man and his hard cock claiming my physical territory as his own was all I required for total happiness.
But then there was more; he wanted more from me, and so snapped off another curt order.
"Take off the blouse and panties."
I stared back questioning, "You mean that?"
"Wouldn't have said it if I hadn't. Take them off." He sounded annoyed and for some unknown reason, I couldn't deny him anything he asked.
While he did some fancy maneuvering of the Lexus through heavy traffic and deserted side streets, I removed my clothes. At least this time, I had the car to cloak me from those who were walking the city sidewalks; they'd have to concentrate to see beyond the smoky-colored windshield.
"Hands behind you. Sit on them," Charlie said next.
I did that too. Following his orders only made me more aroused. No surprise there; my body feeds on the danger.
"Open your legs."
I opened my legs.
"Wider," he insisted.
Yes, of course, so wide that they were dangling off the high sides of the bucket seat, while my ass was cradled in the soft leather and my wet pussy lay open, oozing cum juice. Cool air from the ventilation system tickled my privates and a surge of erotic sensation made me wiggle against the gun-metal grey.
"You want to come?" Charlie asked.
"Yes," I said softly. My inner muscles squeezed together and my ass rocked a little harder.
"So, come," he said.
Come? Come how? My hands were still under my ass. He saw my dilemma without comment; and I assumed that his order to sit on my hands still stood.
I moved a little more, wiggling my ass, and oddly enough if I really worked at it, the seat rubbed against my exposed clit--not a strong sensation, but one that had the effect I was counting on.
"That's right, Marni, you're going to come just like that. Right out in the open, right here, no hands, just come with nothing but that raw desire you got going on inside."
I think his words worked better than any aphrodisiac, better than fingers playing with my cunt. Feeding off them, my body began to spasm with the sensuous friction against the seat, and the subtle draft of air, and the fact that I was vulnerable to the eyes of the world beyond Charlie's Lexus.
While stopped at a traffic light, a half dozen pedestrians were to my right on the sidewalk, stepping off while I was in the front seat rocking my body to a frenzy. One man actually looked, stopping long enough to see that I was naked--at least from the waist up. Thank God, he couldn't see the rest. But he saw enough to set me off. With a sudden jolt, I started to come, rocking vigorously in my seat, my head thrown back, my mouth open, my cunt spilling its juices on the leather seat.
"Oh, gawwwwwdd," I softly cried, while my breasts swayed back and forth, and my pussy ground into the seat. When it was finally over, I slumped back exhausted.
"Good girl, Marni," Charlie said.
I took a deep breath, overcome by the enormity of my actions--and a little bit ashamed, wondering, What was good about this?
"Can I get dressed now?" I asked. Surely, he could hear the pleading in my voice.
"Not yet," he answered.
While I wondered why not?, he pulled into a deserted parking lot and drove to the back wall, where he stopped the car with the passenger door facing away from the street.
"I like a clean car and you, girl, just messed the seat. Get out and lick it clean.
As outrageous as that order was, I knew by then that Charlie was totally serious about the demand. He even reached across me and opened the door. Sinking to my knees onto the gravelly asphalt parking lot, I bent over and used my tongue to clean every bit of body secretions from the Lexus' leather seat. When I finished, I looked up, seeking his approval. For my efforts, I got a smile, then he patted the seat I'd just cleaned, a sign that I should get back in.
"So, you're going where?" he asked once we were on the street again.
I was getting dressed, difficult as it was in the front seat of the car. "The Journal building on 2nd street would be just fine," I answered. Just to further intimidate me, Charlie kept my panties and my bra, so that I'd go to work in just the skirt, the blouse and my high heels. I gazed down at myself a little embarrassed by the way I looked.
"You're okay," he said, again, reading my thoughts.
"Yeah. Sure." Although I wasn't sure of anything.
"I want to see you again." By then, he'd pulled up to the curb in front of the newspaper office.
My whole body was suddenly trembling with fear and I shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm a married woman."
"That didn't matter today."
"But today was just a fluke, that's all." I couldn't stare at his eyes. They had the power to disarm me, and I knew I'd my resolve would wither under the influence of his persuasive charm.
"Okay then," he said, not pressing the issue. I was relieved that he didn't. Even so, I had the strangest feeling that I hadn't heard the last from Charlie Nash.
I emerged from the car, trying to feel comfortable in my abridged clothing. My new pair of thigh-highs were ruined somewhere during this eventful morning, so when I arrived in the newspaper office two hours after my normal starting time, I was minimally dressed, but still ready to make my excuses to my boss and start working.
Today is a new day. I've just left the diner--no Charlie Nash this time, and I breathe a sigh of relief, trusting that he took me at my word.