Published by Phaze Books Also by Jude Mason Pink Ribbon An Acquired Taste Amber’s Toy Stage Fright Scorpio Tattoo Jesse’s Homecoming “Of Death and Desire” from 413 Remembrance Lane Cat’s Claw (in print in Shifting Desires anthology) “Flaming Rescue” from Coming Together Under Fire Shoon Joining Yes, Ma’am (print collection)
This is an explicit and erotic novel intended for the enjoyment of adult readers. Please keep out of the hands of children.
www.Phaze.com
Vertical Tease A Phaze Obey HeatSheet by
JUDE MASON
Vertical Tease © 2008 by Jude Mason All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Phaze Production Phaze Books 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222 Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC. To order additional copies of this book, contact:
[email protected] www.Phaze.com Cover art © 2008 Debi Lewis Edited by Alessia Brio eBook ISBN-13: 978-1-59426-662-1 First Edition – September, 2008 Printed in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Chapter One Groaning, Carl Jackson ran his tongue around inside his mouth. It felt thick, too big, and his mouth was as dry as a peanut butter fart. He tried to roll over but couldn’t move much, couldn’t feel much either. He wriggled; that was all he could do, and even that was limited to his hands and feet. Like flippers, he thought, and realized he must look ridiculous. He stopped wriggling. Sweat dripped—no, trickled—in tiny, annoying, rivulets down his back and sides. He was warm but not uncomfortably so. Something held him upright, something tight—yet forgiving. It wasn’t straps. It was more like a swimmer’s wet suit glued to the wall with him inside it, spread-eagle. Air brushed his hands and feet, the exposed side of his face. His reason for being there came to him in a flash: an advertisement on a website that caught his attention. Visiting the site, he found local addresses and phone numbers. Then, he found her: a woman, Lady Jasmine, who would help him explore a fantasy he’d had for as long he could remember. He emailed her several times, and they’d become—something. There were no words to describe what she meant to him, but she knew his secrets and didn’t laugh, didn’t ridicule him. Such ridicule had always been his biggest fear. That’s why he’d never told Karen, his wife, about it. What would happen if she thought he was perverted, sick? She’d leave him, for sure. He couldn’t bear that. Weeks of emails followed, back and forth, during frantic moments alone. Furtive phone calls left him more turned on than he’d ever dreamed he could be. Finally, his heart in his throat, he asked if he could come to her house. She made him wait a long time before she replied. After a little more talking, and a lot more begging on his
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part, they’d arranged to meet. “You think you’re ready to come to my house?” Her voice had been very deep, very stern. He was breathless, excited, his hand buried in his crotch— not masturbating, but pressing against the aching bulge, trying to ease the unbearable tension. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, in a determined, but much weaker, voice. “I know it’s a big step. Trust and all. But, I—” “It’s a big step for you,” she interrupted. Another pause. “Are you sure you trust me?” Her question caught him off guard. Of course, he trusted her. How could he not? He’d dreamed of her, fantasized about her. She’d sent pictures of herself, and he believed they were real. Her voice had just the right touch of femininity along with the sternness he so desired. Trust? Yes, he trusted her. At thirtytwo, he felt as if life was passing him by. He couldn’t bear to be one of those men who went to his grave wishing he’d done— something. So, there he’d sat, in his living room, shirt off, nipple clamps firmly affixed to his tits, and his hand thrust between his thighs. He whispered into the headset, “Yes, Ma’am, I trust you.” For a moment after he’d said it, he froze, terrified he’d said too much, trusted too easily, desired too fervently. His heart drummed wildly, painfully, threatening to burst through his chest. “Good, for me,” she replied easily. She was quiet after that, but then she laughed. It was the most beautifully cruel laughter he’d ever heard. **** That was two weeks ago. Two weeks of his wife flying out to visit her mother in the next state, two weeks of frozen dinners and late nights of fantasizing. He sent Lady Jasmine a check, an installment on their first session, as she called it. He was careful not to masturbate, at her direction, but each evening he surfed the Internet, valiantly searching for the most arousing, degrading porn he could find, also at her direction. He trembled with lust. For hours each day, the front of his slacks tented, showing his erection and a spreading stain of darker material where he leaked 6
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at an alarming rate. The closer it came to their meeting, the more he trembled and the longer his erections plagued him. The night before, excitement and a nagging case of blue balls kept him awake. The next morning, he took an extra long time preparing. He shaved his face carefully, trimmed his sideburns, and clipped his nails. He wanted to make the very best impression he could. He pulled on the brand new black thong, knowing she wouldn’t see it, but also dreaming about her tormenting him while he slid the elastic into place. It was a good thing the pouch stretched, or he’d never have been able to cover himself. She’d said a white shirt, and he pulled one on. His hands shook so much, he fumbled for nearly five minutes with the buttons. His slacks were almost as much trouble as the shirt. His prick throbbed and his balls ached; getting his slacks zipped and buttoned took forever. Finally, shoes shined, nails clean and filed, breath freshened by three brushings and two gargles, he stood at her door— trembling like a school boy on his first date. It was a large white house in an exclusive area of the city. His bladder felt full, although he knew it couldn’t be. He took a deep, shuddering breath and reached for the doorbell. With his finger poised over the small white button, he wondered for an instant if he should, if he dared. Then it was too late; his finger jabbed down, the bell rang, and he jerked his hand to his side. He waited, scarcely able to get a breath. Would she answer, or leave him standing there like some unwanted relative, ignored, laughed at? He shifted his feet. Sweat trickled down his sides, and he willed it to stop. Footsteps approached from inside. The click, click, click of heels on hardwood got closer. He stopped breathing and waited, eyes fastened on the door knob. It turned and the door swung inward slowly. “Carl,” said the most amazing looking woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Tall, almost as tall as his six feet, she was slender but had curves in all the right places. The full-length, black, leather dress hugged her like a second skin from shoulders to knees. She’d piled her dark hair on top of her head, and her make-up was striking. The wine glass she held was half full of amber liquid. She posed, regally, a hand on the door and a look 7
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of disdain on her face. He shifted nervously again and replied, “Yes Ma’am, Lady Jasmine, I’m Carl.” His voice sounded gruff, as if he hadn’t spoken for awhile. “Last chance,” she said sneering at him. “You’re sure you want to come in? Now’s your last chance to leave. You come in, and you obey my rules. All of them” Carl’s heart picked up its pace. He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing himself. “I’m sure. I can’t turn back now.” She stepped aside, allowing him in. His knees shook, but he made it in without stumbling. Lady Jasmine remained where she was, forcing him to bend and remove his shoes while trapped very close to her. Her scent intoxicated him—a sweet, musky aroma that made him lightheaded. He straightened up, and for a moment, dared to look into the eyes of the woman he’d been dying to meet for as long as he could remember. He wanted to say something, explain how excited he was, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out but air. She pushed the door closed and turned her back on him. “Follow me—on your hands and knees.” It was now or never. After an instant of heart-stopping wonder, he dropped to his knees. He crawled forward, incredibly aware of how tight the thong’s strap was and how it cut into the crease of his ass; how his cock and balls were squeezed. He eased his knees a little wider apart and hurried to keep up with his hostess. Her scent thickened, and his vision blurred. He remembered very little after that until he regained his senses, held tightly against the wall. **** “Finally, you’re awake. Ready to play too, I hope.” He knew the voice; it was hers. The husky whisper was a huge turn on for him, and she knew it. He’d told her often enough. He tried to turn and look at her but couldn’t swing his head far enough. “I thought this was just going to be an interview, a first meeting, not the real thing.” Even to his own ears, it sounded lame. Her laughter came as no surprise. “No, this is it, sweetheart. The real thing.” 8
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He heard the tapping of her shoes behind him, pacing back and forth. They halted, directly behind him. “You paid good money for this, and I have the time now. So relax.” The way she said it made him feel anything but relaxed. He struggled against the rubber holding him tightly to the wall. Even the wall seemed to be well padded, nothing bruised. He was naked inside the suit, of that he was sure. Embarrassment sent a shiver through him. “But, I…uh…I’m not sure I’m ready.” Again, a lame confession, and one he wasn’t sure was true. “I am.” She stepped closer. The puff of air against his cheek wafted across his nose. He was sure it was her breast pressed against his back. At least, he wanted to believe it was. His cock throbbed. He gasped. It was free! Somehow, whoever had bound him had left his cock and balls exposed to the open air. Heart racing, his mouth went dry. Tentatively, he flexed his abdominal muscles and felt his cock sway. Her hands on his back forced his attention away from his groin. They moved along his spine, the material so thin, so tactile friendly, he felt every touch of her fingers from high up between his shoulder blades to just above the crack of his ass. She tested and tugged at the buckles that, no doubt, held him firmly in place. “W-what are you going to do to me?” he asked, afraid of the answer, praying she’d do what they’d discussed—wondering if she knew the rest. Thoughts in turmoil, he closed his eyes and heard his heart beating while he waited for her to reply. “I’m going to do exactly what I want to do to you.” Something tugged on the rubber at the left side of his bottom. He heard and felt a snap release. Cool air stirred over his ass. Another tug on the right, and a sudden gust of air chilled him in a most intimate way. Covered from his chin down to his ankles, he realized, except for his genitals and ass. He was so humiliated at his helplessness and the totally exposed position, he couldn’t speak. Inadvertently, his hips shifted. Can this really be happening? Raising his head off the rubber-slick wall, he looked along it. It ended about four feet from the tips of his fingers. Beyond was a simple wall, cream colored, empty of any adornment, no 9
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pictures, and no clock to gauge the passage of time. He turned and looked the other way, and saw only where the wall joined another, at a forty-five degree angle. Again, it was blank, no windows or decoration of any kind. “I hope you’re well rested. You’ll need all of your strength for what I have in mind.” Lady Jasmine chuckled softly. “You’re mine to play with.” “But, I have plans. I have work to—” “You have nothing to do but amuse me,” she whispered into his ear. Her breath was sweet, peppermint. “I’m so looking forward to this.” She slid her finger along the crease of his ass, from the top, right down and under him to the back of his balls. He clenched, embarrassed by her familiarity, but more by the throbbing of his unencumbered cock. Thank God she was behind him; at least she couldn’t see his wildly twitching erection. “Oh, trying to trap my finger! Such a naughty boy, aren’t you?” She slid her finger along his cleft again, slowly, circling his anus twice before continuing the journey down to the back of his testicles. “I think you need to be shaved and cleaned out before I go any further. But, you said you had work.” Her fingers found their way back to his hole, circling, gently pressing against the crinkled outer ring of muscle. “Last chance. It’s now or never. If you want to go, need to get that work done, whatever it is, I’ll free you now and you’ll leave. But, if you leave now, I don’t ever want to hear from you again. You can’t ever come back.” Carl couldn’t believe his ears. Leave now? How could he? Still, he wasn’t sure he could handle what he hoped she had planned. Ludicrous, he knew. This was amazing: blood-chilling, heart-stopping, gloriously amazing. The mere thought of leaving, of never having the chance to at least try to live this, was simply unacceptable. He licked his lips with a tongue much too dry to do the job, then in a raspy voice replied, “I want to stay, please. I need to stay.” “Good,” Lady Jasmine said. “We’ll begin then.” He thought she’d continue teasing him or perhaps shave him, but she didn’t. Instead, she removed her fingers and, from 10
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the tapping of her heels on the floor, took a few short steps to his rear. Following her movements with his ears, he could only guess what she was doing. He heard a tap, water splashing, filling something, the creak of leather when she sat down. Then there were wheels rasping across the white linoleum floor, the chair and something else, coming toward him. She stopped behind him, very close. “Jasmine, Ma’am, what are you going to do?” he timidly asked. He knew he was supposed to remain silent, that had always been one of their rules, but this was different. “I told you.” She slapped his rubber-clad bottom very hard, just once. “I’m going to do exactly what I want.” He grunted, but kept quiet. He’d broken her rules once, he wasn’t about to do it again. Something cold touched him, and he jerked forward, grinding his hips against the wall. The cold something, was slimy and slithered around his anus then found the center. “Relax,” Lady Jasmine instructed in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. He knew then, she was lubricating him. Relinquishing control was a dream come true. He prayed he’d be able to keep from coming too soon. Untouched, he was already on the verge of an explosive climax. Delaying his orgasm had always been a challenge for him and an ongoing amusement for his wife. The excitement took his breath. He couldn’t think of anything but what this magnificent woman was about to do to him. Her finger slithered into his well-lubed anus. He gasped at the intrusion, embarrassed by the ease it slid in. She had no trouble at all pushing the single digit in until her palm of her hand lay flat against his ass. She wiggled it, and he groaned. She sawed her finger easily in and out, making him twitch with need. When she located his prostate and focused her attention there, he felt himself nearing an uncontrollable climax. “I see you like that,” she said, dryly, dragging his attention away from the pleasure. “Yes, Ma’am,” he gasped, silently praying she’d continue. “But, you need to be cleaned up first, both inside and out.” She ruthlessly plunged her finger in deep, then pulled it completely out, leaving him breathless, mouth agape. “Shave 11
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first.” The hand that had teased his anus was back again, or at least he assumed it was the same hand. Warm, covered in soap or cream, she slid it around his buttocks and between, then forward over his balls. To his utter astonishment, a hand took hold of his shaft and the healthy growth of pubes at the base with cool cream. Slick and sensual, they stroked and caressed him, making sure he was well coated. He heard movement, both on the other side of the wall as well as behind him. As quickly as those hands administered his cleaning, they vanished, leaving him breathless with desire. Lady Jasmine rose from her seat and walked away from him. Water splashed in a sink and then the clicking of her heels approached him. Her chair creaked when she sat down. “We’re going to shave you now, so it’d be best if you didn’t squirm or twist around too much. We’d hate to cut off anything important.” She chuckled. Carl’s lips went dry. He tried to keep still, really strained to keep from squirming or wiggling at all, while the two pairs of hands ran blades over his most sensitive areas. Whoever was in front of him was ruthless, pulling and twisting his cock, whichever way necessary, to glean the last trace of hair from around his prick and the front of his balls. Lady Jasmine pried his buttocks apart and ran her blade down the length of his crease repeatedly, until he thought for sure she’d shaved off at least the outer layers of skin. When a hand grasped his balls and gently, but firmly, drew them down, while a razor blade slid over the tender flesh, he hardly dared breathe. He curled his toes, clenched his fingers into fists, fingernails driving deep into his palms, and waited for the blades to leave his flesh. Even his inner thighs were cleansed of any hair. “Nice,” said a muffled voice from beyond the wall. A feminine voice, he thought. He fervently hoped so. The thoughts of some guy working on him made his blood run cold. His erection waned, only to be taken in hand and stroked again. Warm, slick, deliciously slowly, the hand slid down to the base of his cock, squeezed, and then returned to just under the head. The glans was ignored. He clenched his ass, pushing into the 12
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mysterious palm. The hand was too small to be a man’s he told himself, almost convincingly. A blunt cool something touched his anus. He tightened his sphincter. Too late, too well lubricated, and much too well loosened, the softened muscles didn’t stand a chance against the cool intruder easing into him. That first cool inch made him gasp. His eyes watered as the shaft pushed in deeper, spreading him. The second ring of muscles stopped further progress, but only for a heartbeat or two. A gentle push and the insidious device slid past. Sweat ran in rivulets then as she pushed the tool deeper, rubbing it across his prostate, probing ever further inside him. When she paused, he thought she was satisfied. Apparently, that wasn’t the case. She pulled the shaft partially out, then twisted it before easing it back inside. She toyed with him, probing and nudging his prostrate, fucking him first slowly then with more vigor, until he thought his heart was going to burst from his chest. His vision blurred. A soft grunting sound reached his ears and for a moment, he wondered who it was. Then it hit him: it was himself, gasping for breath. The hand on his cock seemed to be the controlling factor. When he drew too close to a climax, the hand would alter speed, or stop all together, thus ruining his climb to release. Frustration mounted, his muscles tensed in rhythm to the infuriating thrusting his body craved. Finally, she pushed the prod in deep and stopped her torment. The hand on his cock dropped away, leaving him trembling with lust. The rubber encasing him was soaked with sweat. Feet, hands and head, gently drummed against the wall in appreciation of what she’d done to him. “I’m not going to allow you to come.” Her voice was as steady then as it had been when he’d first arrived. Her words cut like a scalpel. “I have you here for the evening. You told me you had premature ejaculation issues, and I’ve decided I’m going to help you with that, as well as give you a taste of your real reason for wanting to see me.” Carl was lost. His buttocks clenched rhythmically. The cool air caressed his newly shaved flesh, and seemed to urge him to writhe against the rubber wall, in a desperate dance of lust. Not 13
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come, he thought, how ludicrous. He was so close his balls tightened. If she’d just rub him a tiny bit more, he’d spew. Allow him to come? He didn’t see how she’d be able to stop him, not for long. He groaned when something warm rubbed over the head of his cock then again vanished. Almost enough, he thought. He gathered his wits and said, “I thought we were just going to talk this time.” Her laughter made him uneasy but thrilled him even more. Helpless, in her power completely, all he could do was endure the torment she administered. For a moment, he felt nothing and thought perhaps she was simply going to leave him alone to squirm. Not so, he realized when the probe vibrated inside him. The object in his ass wasn’t a probe at all, but a vibrator he knew would drive him crazy in a very short time. His body hummed with pleasure. The tip of the vibe hit his prostate and became a luscious torment. Pressing more firmly against the wall, he wondered how much he’d be able to take before she allowed him to come or he became a screaming, crying mass of frustrated desire. A twinge of panic struck. Will she release me? He was numb. She had to. He twisted, fought the rubber holding him in his desire to thrust more firmly against something, anything. “Keep still,” she snapped and swatted the small patch of exposed bottom a stinging blow. She must have had the vibrator in her hand all along, because immediately after the swat, the intruder eased part of the way out of him. He tensed, trying to push it the rest of the way, but she was ready and eased it back inside. The vibrator’s buzz changed tones. His ass clenched around the warm slick surface, wanting it in deep yet dreading it. Or did he? She slid it back in, twisted the warm rod, then pulled it out. Faster and faster, she fucked him and then, as if showing pity, she eased off and simply twirled the device around, stirring him. He couldn’t help it; his cock flexed and throbbed. His desire, a rampant column of heated flesh protruding through the opening so conveniently left for just that purpose. He clenched his thigh muscles, trying to ease his legs closed—if only an inch or so. Again, he realized how helpless he was—and again, he thought of how the sexual torment was exactly what he’d 14
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fantasized. “Ma’am, please,” he whimpered when he was sure his control was in imminent danger of slipping away. His prick pulsed with a need that he couldn’t ignore. His balls ached and drew up close to his body, preparing to jettison their creamy cargo. Untouched, he was ready to spew and fought desperately, fingers clawing at the plastic, toes curled to cramping tightness. He screamed, a high squeaking sound he knew was him, but sounded more like a door with a rusty hinge. Ice cradled his balls. Pain filled the tightened orbs and shot down his inner thighs, freezing any desire to come. “Shush now! It’s all right.” Her soft breath brushed his neck as her words sank in. “Just a little something to slow you down. I don’t want our first encounter to end quite yet.” Her hand moved around his groin, tugging and caressing his retreating gonads while he fought for breath. Stunned, he pressed himself against the wall. Barely able to breathe, he had no hope of begging her to stop, or go on, or anything else. His cock shriveled to a tiny nub, escaping the frigid treatment. He tried inhaling, but the shock was too great. The best he could manage was a strangled gasp. After an eternity of gut-wrenching cold, he thought he detected a hint of warmth. Not enough to stop his shivering or encourage his balls to emerge, but that came soon enough. The gentle tugging on his flaccid prick by her delicious, warm hands brought it back to attention in no time. Lady Jasmine cradled his balls, carefully pulling on the precious orbs, slowly drawing them into the open again. Her fingers grew bolder, taking each ball separately and caressing it alone, easing it further away from his body, stretching the skin of his sac until it felt as if each testicle was a swollen bundle of nerve endings. “Oh, fuck. Oh, damn,” he moaned when the first glimmer of climax surfaced. Clenching his fists, he tried to conceal his excitement. His prick throbbed, and when the woman in front of him polished the head with what he thought was the palm of her hand, he tensed his butt, knowing he’d lose it soon. The buzzing vibrator nudged his prostate, and he saw stars.
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Chapter Two Just as he was beginning to think he was going to fool her and climax, she stopped and removed her hand. “Oh, please, no, please. Oh, my God, please. Don’t stop,” he chanted. His hips thrust forward, hip bones driving against the wall in an anguished attempt to reach her. His cock waved in the air, touching nothing, straining for a touch or caress. “Stop your whining,” Lady Jasmine said in a stern voice. Her hands still toyed with his balls but not for long. Abandoned by the woman on the other side of the wall, he was striving to get enough stimulation from Lady Jasmine’s hands when she too stopped and drew her hands away. “Oh, please, no,” he sobbed, close to tears. His heart raced, and his pulse drummed in his ears. “I can’t…I can’t…Oh, fuck. Please, don’t stop.” Senseless babble flowed from his mouth, like a bad case of verbal diarrhea he couldn’t stop. He clenched his butt and continued flexing until the realization hit him: Someone was laughing. Heat washed over him like an enormous wave. His balls ached horribly. Cock throbbing, balls ready to burst, he couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating. Or so he thought. “You seem to be enjoying this, maybe too much,” Lady Jasmine declared. “I think it’s time to try a little lubricant. My special blend.” He heard her chair roll across the floor then back. Something touched his ass, a long slim line of cold dragged down the crease of his ass. Where it touched, the cool sensation stayed for a moment or two, then vanished. The vibrator ceased its hum and slowly eased out of him. He yearned for its return but bit his lip to keep quiet. Something 16
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was going to happen, he was sure. Fear, anticipation, he wasn’t sure what he felt, but he wanted this something to hurry. He clenched his anus. That cool something touched him, dead center. It circled, leaving slickness behind. He clamped his ass tight, a moment of fear gripping him, and tried to keep— whatever it was—out. “Don’t fight it,” Lady Jasmine said sternly. Humiliation burned through him and still, his cock throbbed, eager for a touch, a caress. Loosening his anal muscles, he shuddered when the intruder slipped in. Twirling it, she pulled it partially from his grasping hole, tearing a grunt from deep inside. He clamped his ass tight, trying to hold it in. The more she worked it, the warmer the interior of his ass grew, and the more his cock lunged about. His balls shifted, and he ached for just a little stimulation. “Lady Jasmine,” he gasped, breathless, fraught with humility. “Please… Oh, my God. Please, touch my cock.” Deep inside, in one of those dark perverted rooms of his mind, his wicked self prayed she’d ignore his request. “Not on your life, little man,” came her terse reply. “I’ve got you here, and I decide if and when, or where, you get touched.” Growing warmer by the second, he also knew he was close to coming again and relished the thought of it. His rectum itched. Whatever she had up his ass was getting hot, too. Squirming, he pushed, like he was trying to shit it out, but she held it in place. The heat wasn’t lessening his excitement, either. In fact, the opposite was happening. Shivering, he pushed himself against the wall, grinding his hips and clenching his ass. Teetering on the edge of madness, he had to make one more attempt. “But, Lady Jasmine, please, tou—” “You dare question me?” she flashed, breaking short his plea. “You’ll get exactly the kind of stimulation I say, when I say it, and you’ll thank me for it, or you’ll find yourself in a world of trouble.” Carl cringed; aware he’d questioned her authority. Dumb, dumb, he chastised himself, and knew there’d be a price to pay. “Yes, Ma’am,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. Fear, exhilaration, anticipation, all warred within him. “I’m 17
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sorry, Ma’am. Please, I’ll try to do better.” “You’ll do better.” She grabbed his testicles and gave them a twist. “Or these will suffer.” Mouth wide, gagging for a breath, he wallowed in the sudden agony. Through the blinding pain, his cock lurched. Untouched, it waved in the air, cool, throbbing, leaking. He strained against the wall, wanting a touch, desperate for a caress. “Do you like your new anal toy?” she asked in that sweetas-sugar voice he loved. Did he? Clenching his ass, he grunted with determination. “Yes, Ma’am. I like it.” “Yes, I’m sure you do, and I’m sure you’ll love it even more when the heat builds up.” He bit back a yelp of anguish. Even as she said those final three words, she twisted the probe and mashed it against his prostate. The heat was almost unbearable, but it wasn’t just the heat driving him insane. It itched. All along his anal chute, a fiery itch grew by the second. Sweat poured off him, making the rubber holding him to the wall slick. The torment grew, and he finally couldn’t help but cry out, “Please, please, Lady Jasmine.” Whimpering piteously, he strained to prevent his orgasm from erupting for just a moment longer. Laughter erupted behind him. Biting his lip, he managed to control the desire to continue begging. Lust, like a wave of heat, cascaded over him. His anal muscles went into a wild fluttering dance, the spasms almost more than he could contain. “Ask me pretty please, little man,” cooed Lady Jasmine into his ear. Beyond caring how he sounded, or the humiliating picture he posed, he whispered, “Please, pretty please, stroke me. Please, Lady Jasmine.” His cock pulsed, its head brushing something soft, something cool. A faint smell came to him, a spice. He wasn’t sure what, but he knew whatever it was, had something to do with the burning in his ass. Silence met his plea. He sobbed, muscles fighting for control, until he was sure he’d explode or scream from the heat burning his rectum. Again, 18
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he sobbed and begged, “Please, dear God, please.” In his ear, so close her breath tickled his cheek, she whispered, “Little man, you seem to have a problem.” “Yes, Ma’am. Please, help me,” he mumbled, beside himself with passion. “Good boy,” Lady Jasmine said. But, as if to vanquish any chance of regaining his composure, she added, “Your wife will be pleased at how easy it is to control you.” “Wife,” he sputtered and felt the color drain from his face. Karen’s face flashed before his eyes, how angry she’d be, how ludicrous he’d seem to her, how she’d laugh, or smirk, lips curled in disgust. “Wife,” he repeated dumbly, unable to make his mind function properly. “Yes, Karen, your wife.” Lady Jasmine chuckled, not a pleasant sound. “You do remember your wife, right? She’s the one who suggested the ginger treatment. Figging it’s called.” Without another word, she pulled the finger of ginger from his ass. Cold air wafted across the sensitive ring, sending a shiver of lust rippling up his back. Carl stammered, unable to make his mind come up to speed. His cock still pulsed with need, his balls churned, aching for the chance to empty their load. His wife just wasn’t in the picture, not this picture. Or so he’d thought. “Karen?” he croaked. “Yes, Karen.” The sounds of her chair rolling across the floor, of something hitting the trash can, brought back his mortification. “You didn’t think I’d go through with this without asking her, do you?” Completely at a loss for words, all Carl could do was swallow and grunt. Permission? What was happening? his mind screamed. This was his fantasy. How could Karen know? A sharp slap to his lower butt cheek refocused his thoughts. She’d asked a question. He had to answer. How? Opening his mouth, air escaped. His mind raced. Karen, how could she know? “I don’t…” he mumbled. She let him dangle there, unable to go on, unsure of what to say, desperate to come. Sweat ran like rivers from under his arms. He wanted to cry—or scream—but most of all, he wanted to grovel at her feet and beg her to stop tormenting him so. Whether or not he really wanted it to stop was another question. 19
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If Karen only knew. He shuddered. “You don’t what?” Lady Jasmine asked, her voice as sharp as the slap she’d administered moments ago. “I…I,” he tried, then taking a deep breath replied, “I don’t understand. Please, Lady Jasmine, my wife. What do you mean?” Footsteps, heels clicking on the linoleum floor, came from the other side of the wall. They moved toward the opening, and he turned his head that way but not fast enough. Whoever it was, all he saw was a glimpse of white skirt and dark hair—short hair, curly, like Karen’s. “I told you. Listen closely. You don’t think I’d allow you to come here, take part in this perverted play, without discussing it with your wife, Karen, do you?” Heart pounding, he managed to reply, “Yes, Ma’am. I thought you would.” “You did?” “Well, uh…” he stammered again. Of course, he did, but knew that somehow he’d been wrong—very wrong. “Penny dropped yet?” Lady Jasmine asked. Her chuckle was joined by another, more familiar, one. “What? Please, Lady Jasmine, please. Don’t keep tormenting me.” Close to tears, he strained to turn his head just a little more, enough to see who else might be behind him. “How could I betray a sister?” “But, I thought—” “There you go, thinking again.” A warm, damp cloth caressed his ass, meandered into the crease and around his anus. He couldn’t concentrate. His body betrayed him at every opportunity, cock twitched, balls shifted, every muscle clenched, while his mind reeled. “But—” “And there you go with your buts again.” She finished cleaning him, and then he felt nothing but the cool air, and the residual heat inside his rectum. “Who do you think gave me all the little bits of information about you and your secret fantasy? The little things you left out?” “I didn’t. I mean, there’s nothing…” 20
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“Oh, yes, there is,” an all too familiar voice replied. Karen. He mouthed the word, but no sound came out. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to speak again. How could she know about him, his fantasies? What the hell was she doing there? A hand on his ass, was it hers? Warm, soft, it caressed the small exposed patch of skin, delving along his crease, toying with the newly hairless perineum, the bloated balls. He wanted to thrust—or pull away, he wasn’t sure. “Yes, it’s me.” Her voice was matter of fact, calm. “I wondered if you’d ever do anything. I hoped you’d turn to me, but it seems you didn’t trust me enough. Yet, you trusted Jasmine.” Mouth dry as the Mojave, trembling with both fear and lust, he tried to explain, “Karen, I’m sorry. I thought—” “Carl, shut up and listen,” she said, in a tone that left no room for negotiation. “For the past six months, you’ve been communicating with Jasmine, cheating on me, if not in deed at least in thought. Am I right?” Shocked, he blurted, “Yes, I’m so sorry.” “Just answer my questions. I don’t bloody care if you’re sorry.” The hands slid across his testicles, cupping them, pulling on them. Fighting to control his lust, he forced his mind to concentrate on her words, knowing he’d pay dearly for any further transgressions. “Yes, Ma’am.” “So, you admit that you’ve trusted Jasmine and not me?” Wishing he could crawl into a hole, he whispered, “Yes, Ma’am.” “And, you thought, seeing as I was away visiting mother, you’d have the perfect chance to mess around?” “Well, uh…yes, Ma’am.” A finger circled his anus. Whose finger? He couldn’t breathe. Who was touching him? “You thought you could trust some stranger, but not the woman you say you love. How ludicrous is that?” The finger zeroed in on his hole, pressing slowly, easily into him. He gasped, clenched his buttocks, but it was no use. The 21
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finger slipped in further. “No!” his cry surprised him, but only made the two women laugh. While he struggled to break free, Karen said, “He’s excitable, isn’t he?” “Yeah, claims he can’t control his orgasms either, but we may be able to fix that,” Jasmine commented. The chuckle following made Carl’s blood run cold. The finger exploring his ass withdrew, leaving him empty, wanting. It wasn’t gone long, returning with something cold and slick. Lubrication of some sort anointed his over-heated anal ring and then eased inside. Grunting, he tried to remain calm and push out, allowing for easier access. “What do you have in mind, Lady Jasmine?” The voice was Karen’s, but the tone made him cringe. He craned his neck, trying to see where she stood. Was it her toying with his ass? “Well, he seems to enjoy someone sticking things up his ass, maybe he needs more of that and less stimulation for that little cock of his.” Carl caught sight of Lady Jasmine. She was still seated and a good three feet away from him. That meant it was definitely Karen working on him. He groaned when her fingers sank deeper into his butt, pushing more of the lube in. The wet squish sound seemed unnecessarily loud. She worked it in, pumping her finger in and out, twisting it, turning it, then laughing when he passed wind. “Poor boy has gas.” Both women howled with laughter while he hung from the wall, totally mortified by his body’s reaction. As if to punctuate his humiliation, and his wife’s remark, another puff of air crept past her fingers, and with it, a rude noise. Beyond horrified, Carl felt his face burn with shame. If he could have fallen in a hole and vanished, he would have, gladly. With no such option, all he could do was pray the two women relented and left his ass alone. A faint hope at best, he knew, seeing as they seemed bent on tormenting him, and his ass was 22
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their preferred target. “Gas. The boy is going to explode if he keeps that up,” remarked Karen, while slipping another finger into his butt. He groaned and bit the inside of his cheek, trying to be quiet. “Yeah, that’s not exactly the kind of explosion I was thinking of.” Lady Jasmine moved closer, her body nearly touching him. He watched her face, smirking, lusty, and then he felt her hand slide across the crease of his ass toward his balls. Opening his mouth, he wanted to say something, to beg or cry out, but nothing happened. She’d punish him for sure, so he kept his silence and waited—and shuddered. Her hand was so soft, so sure, and his balls ached for that touch. As if she knew his thoughts, she wound her fingers around them, not touching. With the tip of one finger, she circled them, over and over. His cock was so hard— so painfully erect—it curved upward and tapped on the other side of wall. The sporadic contact sent a thrill of spine-tingling pleasure through him. “I’m going around to the other side, Karen,” Lady Jasmine said in her low husky voice. “I’m sure, between us, we can teach this boy some control.” Heart beating wildly, Carl braced himself for whatever the two women might have in store for him. That they had actually met—and planned this—was enormous. Had he left a hint somewhere, evidence? What would Karen do with him later? His thoughts in turmoil, he watched Lady Jasmine saunter around to the end of the wall. Just before turning the corner, she looked at him, and winked. “Be good, boy,” she said, and continued to the other side. He waited, listening for any hint of what she was going to do, reveling in the feel of his wife’s fingers, her hands, on his ass. Fingers that probed and stretched, twisted and turned, deep inside him. One found his prostate and mashed down on the sensitive organ, making him groan. A third finger joined the duo already inserted, and together they moved slowly in and out. Another groan escaped him, bit back as quickly as he could when he realized it was out. 23
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Something touched the tip of his cock. Something soft and damp, warm. He couldn’t tell what it was, but the sensation nearly toppled him into oblivion. Too quickly, that touch turned to a harsh pinch, and his mind went numb with surprise, shock. He felt himself pulse. His balls pulled in close again, or tried to. Karen’s free hand moved lightning fast, grasping them and yanking them cruelly down. “He’s dripping all over the place, Karen,” Jasmine said, voice like venom. “Yeah, he does that a lot. Makes one hell of a mess, and then shoots his load all over.” “I’ve got an idea.” All Carl could think of was her fingers, or whatever she’d used to pinch the head of his cock. The pain wasn’t horrendous, but it was persistent. Still excited, he wanted it to stop, but even when he squirmed and thrust his hips, the pressure remained. He dared not ask, for fear of her intensifying it. “What’s on your mind, Jasmine?” came Karen’s voice from behind him. Her fingers moved quicker, driving into him with a vigor that left him breathless. “Denial. Complete denial.” “You mean…” Those words, left dangling in the air, terrified him—and excited him more then he’d thought possible. Controlled, completely at the mercy of a woman; his fantasy come true. “I mean a cage.” “I’ve never seen one.” His wife’s fingers pulled free of his ass, and he grunted. Desperate to have that stimulation, he gyrated his hips in what he hoped was a convincing display of need. Her hand on his balls remained firm, tight even, and he basked in the slight burning sensation. Something nudged at his anus, cold, hard, and before he knew it, the thing entered him. One, swift, not-so-easy push, and he was filled. “Come here then, and see if this is something you’d like to try,” Lady Jasmine said. Whatever had touched his cock, stopped. Behind him, Karen released his balls, but only for a 24
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moment. He heard her move away then return. Testicles once more in her hand, she dragged them sharply downward. He gasped, but that wasn’t the end of it. Something wound around the neck of his sack, ensuring his balls wouldn’t be able to rise. Pulled snug, the ends tied, his balls would remain in that position until someone removed the cord. Without another word, Karen strode away, around the other side of the wall. His ass burned. Filled to the max, the plug touched his prostate, but only just. If he moved, however, the hard plastic pressed more firmly against it. Of course, he shifted, very carefully thrusting his hips back and forth. Nirvana neared. Sweat ran in rivers down his sides and back. He closed his eyes, concentrating on his pleasure, straining toward release. Fireworks exploded behind his eyelids, his breath caught. Close, he was so very close. His eyes blinked wide. Mouth agape, no sound emerged, except the harsh exhalation of his pent up breath. Agony knifed down his cock shaft and into his belly, down his inner thighs. “You do have to get his cock to soften before you can get it on,” came the matter-of-fact voice of Lady Jasmine. “Ah, I see. And it has a lock?” Karen asked in the same tone. “Yes. Here, see?” A smooth tube slid over his cock. The pain, caused by several sharp flicks to his cock head, had made him shrivel to the size of a pubescent boy in a matter of seconds. The tube slid down his shaft easily, curved it, then something else wound around his balls. Hands fiddled with him, with it, he wasn’t sure. A soft, snick, and his genitals were released. “Yes, I love it,” cried his wife. “He’ll eventually do pretty much anything you want him to, just for the chance to have this off for an evening.” “Seems that’s what he’s wanted for some time now. We’ll both be happy.” “Oh, and if you like to see his balls a little more, there’s another strap, a real short one, you can clip here,” Jasmine offered. 25
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Hands lifted his cock, and pulled the cord from around his balls. Before he had any chance to feel relief, they were separated, roughly, then a strap snapped into place between them. He wanted to groan, or protest, or come. His body ached for relief; his balls tried to pull in close, but were held in place. “Yes, I see,” Karen said. It was her hand, it must have been, that gently stroked his testicles. He thrust forward, the plug in his ass doing its job and hitting his prostate. The stimulation was mind boggling, beautiful, and the most frustrating thing he’d ever experienced. His cock tried to thicken, but couldn’t. The tube got tight, then painfully so. “Oh look, he’s getting a little boner. Or trying to,” Lady Jasmine laughed. “It sure can’t get very big, can it?” Karen asked, and continued stroking his balls. “No, but that’s not our problem. He’ll learn to deal with it, and beg very nicely.” Lady Jasmine’s laughter wasn’t as kind as Karen’s. Tormented beyond anything he’d ever experienced, Carl rested his cheek against the wall and tried to calm himself. Not an easy thing with his balls being toyed with, and a plug stretching his ass, but he tried. Taking deep breaths, he focused on the wall in front of him—how white it was, how clean and unadorned. A finger brushed over the head of his cock, and his mind instantly returned to coming. “See, your baby finger can reach inside, but nothing any bigger,” his Mistress proclaimed. “So, he can’t actually have any stimulation at all with that thing on?” “No, none at all. He’s totally at your mercy.” Chuckling, Karen slipped her finger back into the end of the tube and touched him again. He bit his lip to keep from begging her to stop. Frustrated beyond words, he struggled again to break free. His hands and feet slapped at the wall and sounded like nothing more than several books being opened and then slammed shut, rapid-fire. 26
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“Oh, my. He is acting up, isn’t he?” Karen’s chuckle made him realize how pointless and how ludicrous it was, and he stopped. Hanging there, he prayed for them to let him down. He wanted to see what they’d fixed on him. He wanted to move. “Miladies,” he tried, very softly, politely. And he waited for their response. Footsteps, both women’s, walked to the end of the wall and then came around. Again, he caught only a fleeting glimpse of them, but it was enough. They weren’t seething mad. He had a chance. “Yes, what do you want, worm?” asked Lady Jasmine. “Please, I beg you; may I be released from the wall?” Silence answered him. He waited for a reply or a slap; he wasn’t sure which and didn’t care. He got neither. The plug in his ass moved, gently, slowly, twisted and turned, thrust in and out. He gasped, he groaned, and he mewled with anguish, but could do nothing but endure the treatment. “He wants us to let him down,” his wife said. “Yes, I wonder if he realizes how his life has changed?” Beyond speech, he nodded his head, trying to get them to understand that he did. Truly he did. But the torment went on, and on. “I think I’d like him down. I want to see his face when he realizes what we’ve done to him.” Again his wife’s’ voice was soft, matter-of-fact. “Let the plug stay in, though,” Lady Jasmine said, and both women chuckled. “Agreed. He’ll be more apt to behave if it’s there, I’m sure. And more eager to please.” “Will you be a good boy, Carl?” Lady Jasmine asked, her face so close to his cheek he felt her warm breath. “Oh, yes, I promise. I’ll be very good, Ma’am.” So eager to get free of the wall, he was sure he’d have promised them anything. “Be still then. No thrusting, no squirming, just keep still.” “Yes, Ma’am.” The task would have been easy if whoever was playing with the plug stopped. As it was, one woman unfastened the buckles 27
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and straps that held him while the other continued tormenting him. The soft mewling became his litany, inhaled then exhaled, like some musical entertainment for his ladies’ enjoyment. He prayed for an orgasm. He strained to keep his body still and his cock soft, neither of which happened. The pain in his groin made his vision blur, but he adored it and the feeling of helplessness. By the time he fell free, he was a mass of quivering flesh, desperate to do whatever it took for release. Lying on the cold linoleum, he strained to keep his hands off the locked device holding his cock. Covered in sweat, the floor felt amazing against his super-heated flesh, and he tried to concentrate on just that. The two women had taken up the office style chairs and wheeled them so they faced him, side by side. Karen, in her skin tight white skirt, blouse, and heels, Lady Jasmine in her leathers, sat looking down at him as if he was a bug they debated squashing. “Can you move?” Karen asked him, kindly. Looking up at her, he shifted, felt the dildo move against his prostate, but could move easily. “Yes, thank you, Ma’am.” He watched her eyes move over him, and he followed her gaze, stopping at his mid-section, cringing at the nakedness of his newly shaved crotch and the device fastened on him. Clear plastic encased his prick inside a downward curving tube. Swollen shaft pressed against the inside, painfully tight. The head neared the end, but the opening was nowhere near large enough for anything but urination or, as his wife had previously discovered, a very slender finger tip. His balls bulged below, separated, held high to each side, and would no doubt make a hefty bulge in his slacks. “Nice,” she remarked. “Get up on your knees. I want to see how it hangs.” Lady Jasmine shifted her feet, spreading them apart. Her knees splayed wide enough to show him a hint of pink nestled between her thighs. His prick strained, and he groaned at the growing ache in his groin. The plug shifted when he moved. 28
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“Seems he has wandering eyes,” Lady Jasmine said, dryly. Her remark surprised him. She’d meant to tease him, and he’d fallen for it. Both women must have known he would, in his condition. Getting to his knees, he was very aware of his genitals and the hard plastic cage holding them. It bounced against his thigh, its cold exterior sending a shiver up his spine. His balls felt enormous, held thrust forward. He knelt, tried to keep his legs together, but couldn’t. Chuckling, Karen said, “Spread your knees. I have a feeling you’re going to have to learn a completely new way to sit and walk.” Carl looked up at her and blinked. How long did she think he was going to wear this thing, he wondered. Surely, it’d have to come off before they went home. Thoughts of wearing it for longer made his blood race, but he was unsure of saying anything. “Yes, you’ll be wearing it for awhile.” Lady Jasmine sat forward in her chair and smiled down at him. “What do you think of your lovely Karen taking control?” How could he tell them? Heart beating like he’d run a marathon, he’d never been so excited. But, could he tell them? Looking from Lady Jasmine to Karen, his thoughts raced. Would she understand? Could she? “Well?” urged Karen, a wicked smile on her face. Both women sat waiting, smiling, while he sweated. Finally, he gathered his courage, and looking directly into Karen’s eyes, said, “Karen, my Lady, I’ve wanted you to control me for as long as I can remember. I just didn’t have the courage to say anything. I was afraid you’d think I was sick, or something.” Unable to look at her any longer, he lowered his gaze, focusing on a patch of floor directly in front of her. “Spread your knees wider apart,” she instructed. Her tone was calm, as if she’d told him to get the newspaper. Complying with her demand, he eased his knees apart, exposing himself more blatantly to both women. The dildo pressed hard against his prostate, forcing him to bite his lip to keep from groaning. His cock pulsed, lifting the cage and sending a throb of pain into his belly. 29
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“So, rather than tell me your deepest darkest secret, you go to some stranger and pay her to play with you.” Lady Jasmine added, “Men aren’t too bright sometimes, are they?” “No, they’re not, but they’re fun to play with.” Carl lifted his gaze, but quickly lowered it again when he saw the lust on Karen’s face. “Lady Jasmine, I think I’ll take this worm home now. I’d like to begin his training, and what better time than right now?” Carl’s heart lurched. Training? What did she have in mind? What had he gotten himself into? Excitement made him tremble. “It’s been a pleasure taking part in this and watching things unfold, Karen. Thank you for letting me join in.” Lady Jasmine rose to her feet. Karen got to her feet as well and turned to face Jasmine. “Thank you for contacting me when he asked to meet you. I’ve always known he was a wimp, but I had no idea he was such a perv, too.” She chuckled. “Lord knows why I love him, but I do.” The women hugged and walked toward a part of the wall he’d been unable to see. A door stood half open, and they went through it. Karen called back, “Come on, Carl. Time to go home. Don’t rise.” Aghast, trembling with lust, he crawled after them. His knees hurt almost immediately. It was a good pain, one he’d remember and learn to love. The cock cage kept him from closing his thighs, the plug in his ass nudged his prostate repeatedly. Ahead, he heard the women talking. “If you need any help, just call,” Lady Jasmine said. “I will. Why don’t you join us for dinner next weekend? Saturday evening? I’m sure we’ll have something to show you by then.” “Sounds perfect. I’ll call you sometime this week.” Carl listened, carefully, exuberant. His life seemed to have taken a turn—for the best. Again, his cock pulsed, and he grunted at the luscious pain. “Carl, stop daydreaming and get into your clothes,” Karen 30
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snapped. “Just the thong and shirt. I’m sure the thong will stretch over the cage. If not, it’s not my problem. No pants for you, boy.” She bent down and stroked his cheek, then whispered, “I wish you’d said something sooner. We’ve missed so much time. We’ll make up for it though, you’ll see.” Kissing him on the cheek, she smiled and winked. “Yes, Ma’am. I wish I had, too. I love you.” Smile widening, she replied, “Get dressed. Hurry, I want you home.” Scarcely able to control his eagerness, he fumbled into the clothes she’d told him to wear. The plug in his ass moved. He shuddered, wanting more. Desperate to come, yet happier than he could ever remember being before. Karen stepped through the door and said, “We’ll have to see which wall will work. I do love teasing you.” Yes, Carl thought, life was going to be so much better.
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About the Author Jude Mason’s imagination frequently leads her astray, and she eagerly follows while trying to keep out of trouble, or at least not get caught. For those of you who know her, you’ll know that’s not always easy. A picture, a smell, an unexpected glimpse of flesh, or a load of soil in the back of a pick-up, are all fodder for her writing. Her male characters run the gamut from the dominant male ruling his women with an iron fist, to a simpering purple-clad boy-toy, whose only desire is to please. As diverse and as richly depicted, her women find themselves in a myriad of exotic and erotic situations.
If you’d like to keep up to date on what she’s up to, visit her website at www.my-haven2001.com. To join her mailing list, please send an email to
[email protected].
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