Let the Mistress give you the pain you crave! New from Lisabet Sarai - D&S; Duos: Book 5 Poker Night

New Release!

D&S Duos Book 5

by 

Lisabet Sarai

Femdom BDSM Erotica

Approximately 10,000 words

Smashwords and Amazon KDP

ISBN (Smashwords): 9780463673515

ASIN: B086LCM1W9

#Femdom #BDSM #Spanking #Flogging #Bondage #Prostitution #Amsterdam #Mistress

Tag Line

Let the Mistress give you the pain you crave.

Blurb

Powerful women take control in this fifth volume of Lisabet Sarai’s D&S Duos series. In “Shades of Red”, a young woman vacationing in Amsterdam rents a room in the fabled red light district and discovers the thrill of dominating a willing male. In “Poker Night”, a God-fearing, working class guy visits his Mistress to satisfy his secret, shameful needs. Also includes a sizzling F/m excerpt from The Heart of the Deal: Business, Bondage, Discipline and Desire.

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Enjoy an Exclusive Online Excerpt HERE

X-rated Excerpt

She retrieved the cane from the wall. “This should do the trick.” The flexible rattan rod whistled through the air as she warmed up. The hair at the back of his neck stood on end at the sound. His balls tightened into aching knots.

“Open your thighs wider. And bend over so the fabric’s stretched tight across your butt. That’s good.”

Jack trembled, off-balance, waiting for the first stroke. Leaning forward, he found that the padded cuffs around his wrists supported most of his weight. Then again, he felt as though the lump of granite jutting from his crotch would be heavy enough to drag him to the floor.

He had been hard half an hour before he left the poker game, knowing that this would be his final destination. He hoped nobody had noticed his boner when he got up to leave. Early delivery at the store, he’d told them. Need to get my sleep.

All the last week he’d been harried by anxious dreams, but he’d sleep soundly tonight. He always did, after a session.

“Ready, baby?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he murmured. Still the pain surprised, biting into his flesh as though his ass was totally bare.

“Ow!” he yelled. He had time for two deep breaths before she slashed at him again. His cock jerked against the cotton that bound it against his belly, threatening to explode. The cane left tracks of fire burning across his buttocks. The agony spread and mutated, merging with the awful pressure in his bladder.

Each searing stroke hurt more than the last. He was shaking, near tears, from the excruciating pain and the effort of staying in control. Yet, when she paused to get her breath, he craved another stroke. The pain was almost unbearable, but its loss was worse still.

She might have read his mind.

“Enough, baby?”

Jack was silent, overwhelmed with shame. He didn’t want to admit it, his weakness, his sickness.

“Answer me, boy. Have you had enough of my cane? Or do you want more?”

The authority in her voice sent a delicious chill up his spine. Did it even matter what he wanted? He was in her power. Everything was up to her.

“No answer. I guess that means you’re done, that you can’t take anymore—”

“No...more...” The croaking voice seemed to belong to someone else.

“What was that?”

“More. Please, Ma’am. Give me more.”

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance - over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and  Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

#SatSpanks - Utterly Confused and Needy - A snippet from #Priest #EroticRomance SIN BIN

Hi again folks,

I hope this post finds you safe and well. What an intense few weeks it's been, and will continue to be for the foreseeable future. Our whole world has changed, including the way we do things. But in an attempt to keep some semblance of normalcy, I'm continuing to post on my blogs in my best attempt to provide some distraction and I hope some entertainment, while we're all sequestered. 

Take extra good care, stay safe and well everyone.

Kymmie

Picking up from where we left off last week an excerpt from Sin Bin

Frustrated, Camillah wiggled her ass. One of the strands laced around and caught her labia. She gasped at the sensation and arched like a cat. The intimate lash was as good as she’d suspected.

“You like that,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Another blow caught both cheeks, and her pussy, but this time Cash soothed the sting with his fingers.

Camillah whimpered at the feather-light caress.

Oh, dear God, he was finally touching her! She closed her eyes and savored it.

A warm trickle rolled down her inner thigh, evidence of how aroused she was.

Cash circled the roundness of her ass in a wide radius.

Her skin was numb. She could no longer differentiate between the threads from the flogger or his fingers. He was keeping her utterly confused and needy.

About the Book:

When Daunté Bennifetto left home to attend seminary school, he never intended to return to the small town he’d grown up in. But it would seem God had other plans.

After Father Eton’s sudden death, Daunté finds himself in charge of his childhood parish and all of its parishioners, including Camillah Lima, the woman he can’t seem to forget. And true to form, the wild and spirited girl he remembers hasn’t changed a bit, headlining at a club as an exotic dancer.

When Daunté runs into Mrs. Lima—Camillah's disapproving mother—she begs him to intervene in her daughter's life, perhaps setting her back on the path to righteousness. Because of their sordid past, he knows he should stringently refuse, yet he can't seem to stay away. Night after night, Father Bennifetto finds himself worshiping at Cam’s feet, in a club appropriately named, The Sin Bin.

Sin Bin FREE at Smashwords

More Free Reads

Slipping in one last holiday treat from the fabulous @LisabetSarai! Santa, Baby! #femdom #holiday #erotica

This Christmas, Santa discovers it’s nice to be naughty. 

Santa, Baby!

A naughty holiday fantasy

by 

Lisabet Sarai

Femdom Holiday Erotica

12,000 words, 51 pages

Smashwords and Amazon KDP

ISBN (Smashwords): 9780463715581

ASIN: B082ZTHVKJ

Blurb:

Recent university grad Matt Glaser may not have the Santa Claus beard or belly, but when it comes to earning extra holiday cash, it's a case of 'ho ho ho, let's start the show'—he loves his red suit like a reindeer loves carrots. This potential client, though—classy, curvy Eleanor Danforth—seems more interested in checking out his butt than his references. And two grand for a private party? Oy vey, Prancer, something's not kosher about this particular Vixen. She's not one to be denied, though. When the interview takes a carnal turn, he finds he’s unexpectedly eager to satisfy the demanding older woman.

Wearing the provocative costume supplied by his employer, Matt arrives at the Danforths’ swanky apartment to discover he’s been cast as the emcee for Eleanor’s intimate gathering. His duties include managing a pair of scantily-clad blond elves, distributing decadent treats to guests who’ve been good, and meting out punishments to the naughty. Meanwhile, the mistress of the house has a Christmas gift especially for him—one made of silicon and leather straps, which requires plenty of lube. Ho ho ho, Matt! It's going to be a very merry Christmas indeed.

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Enjoy this exclusive Online Excerpt over at Beyond Romance

X-rated Excerpt

Clusters of sofas and chairs were scattered around the vast space. Several male figures occupied a grouping at the far end. Closer, two women from Mrs. Danforth’s generation sat sipping cocktails, their heads together like gossiping teenagers. Despite their age, they both had dressed seductively, in tight, glittering gowns with low necklines that displayed their abundant flesh.

“Delilah, Jane — this is Matt, our Santa.”

“Oh my! You’ve outdone yourself, Ellie! He’s gorgeous!”  The raven-haired woman had a Middle Eastern look, with a prominent nose and dusky skin. She offered her hand. “I’m Delilah,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Picking up on her mood, I bent to brush my lips and my soft beard across the back. “Enchanté, Mrs….”

Delilah giggled at the tickling sensation. “Mrs. Nothing! I’m happily divorced.”

“Me too,” added the other woman, who had a square, somewhat plain, face but astonishing red-gold hair. “I’m Jane,” she announced. She grabbed my other hand, brought it to her mouth and licked my palm.

Electric pleasure sizzled through me at the unexpectedly intimate move, down to my increasingly rigid dick. My pelvis jerked reflexively. The three women laughed.

“Mmm! If the rest of you tastes as good as your hand…Can I have a sample, Ellie?”

“I don’t see why not. He looks as though he could use some relief. Matt, pull out your cock.”

There it was. I’d known it was only a matter of time. The die was cast when I pressed the doorbell. But was I really ready to become a whore?

Eleanor didn’t give me time to consider the question. Yanking at the front of the spandex bottoms, she tucked the elastic waistband under my balls. The upward pressure immediately made me harder. My erection reared up, pre-cum pooling at the slit. It bobbed with my racing pulse as my employer pulled me closer to the sofa.

“There you go, Janie. Do your worst!”

“You mean my best? I haven’t had a good meal of cum in ages!”

The middle-aged vixen grabbed me by the hips. Sticking out her tongue, she lapped along my rod, from the balls up to the bulb. I shuddered as delicious sensation coursed through me. When she pursed her painted lips around the head, I gasped and thrust against them. She opened. In one gulp she swallowed me to the root.

Oh God! The heat and the wetness almost overwhelmed me. She locked her lips around my shaft, sliding back and forth along the rigid length. As she approached the head, she used her tongue to stroke and tease my sensitive flesh. When she took me deep, she swallowed deliberately, letting me feel her throat working around the tip.

I could tell I wasn’t going to last long. Well, she’d said she wanted to taste my cum. I certainly wasn’t about to deprive her. Shaking off my passivity, I began to thrust, pushing my cock down her throat. She didn’t gag or fight me. Relaxing her muscles, she consumed every inch I fed her, sucking eagerly as if hungry for more.

If more was what she wanted, that’s what she’d get. I was fucking her face in earnest now, fast and hard. She was helpless, open, her mouth no more than a container for my raging dick. In, out, in out—I wanted to come, needed to come, but I also didn’t want these amazing sensations to end.

My fingers tangled in her gorgeous coppery hair, I held her still so I could keep control as I ravaged her mouth. I couldn’t hold on much longer. I closed my eyes, savoring the building pressure. Yes, oh yes…

Skillful fingers tickled my balls, then gave them a gentle squeeze. Pleasure exploded, spiraling up and out from my taut groin. My cock shuddered and expelled a flood of cum into Jane’s welcoming mouth. Her muscles fluttered around my shaft as she swallowed, triggering another cataclysm. More jizz erupted from my rod. She turned up the suction. My cock produced another ecstatic spurt.

Finally we released our hold on one another. My softening dick slipped from her mouth, painting a thick trail of cum along her cheek. I was about to apologize when Delilah leaned over, stuck out her tongue, and lapped the jizz off her friend’s face.

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance - over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and  Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Character Interview w/ Lucien Dufort from Hard-Pressed by Queenie Black @queenieblackwr1 #BDSM #romance

New Release

Hard-Pressed
Club Hard, 1

by

Queenie Black

contemporary, BDSM, erotic romance

Master Lucien has one night at Club Hard.

One night…to show bodyguard Rose Dainty that he can be the Dom she needs,

One night…to show her that submitting to him doesn’t make her weak, that true submission requires strength and trust.

Will pushing Rose to her limits prove to her she can trust him with her body and heart, and can she let go of her deepest fears long enough to enjoy her surrender? `

They both have everything to prove and everything to lose.

Q: Welcome Lucien, thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to talk to me today.

L: Bonjour Queenie. It’s a pleasure.

Q: Do you prefer England or France?

L: I feel equally at home in both countries and travel between both, but I must admit that I have a soft spot for France. And of course, French is the language I prefer in the bedroom or when I’m in Club Hard.

Q: Oooo, you’re making me come over all goose-bumpy. (He smiles) What do you look for in a woman?

L: Someone who sees me, the man. Not the business, or the money, or the Dom. Me.

Q: What do you like to do in your spare time? How do you let off steam?

L: I like to play in Club Hard with Rose. Other than that, I run, and I practise martial arts. Mainly Wushu, a Chinese form. Sometimes I cook.

Q: Does it bother you that Rose does MMA?

L: How can it? She loves doing it as I love Wushu. Of course, I don’t like seeing her take hits, unless I’m delivering them, of course. (He shrugs) It’s her choice and I would never try and take that away. Anyway, I get to kiss her better afterwards.

Q: Ahem. Changing the subject, you said you like cooking. Tell me more.

L: I spent some time in a cordon bleu cookery school when I was much younger. I can cook most things and I enjoy putting together ingredients and flavours for friends and family.

Q: Wow. Moving on, are you a tea or coffee person?

L: Coffee. Black. Is there any other way?
Q: Cat or dog?

L: Dog. I have two Irish wolfhounds.

Q: Do you prefer to use the paddle or cane?

L: My hand. It’s far more intimate.

Q: Riiiiight. How did you know Rose was the woman for you?

L: When she walked into my life, quite simply I couldn’t see anyone else. She spoke to something deep inside me. She’s my soulmate.

Q: Favourite ice-cream?

L: I don’t eat it, but I might use it on Rose…hmmm that’s given me an idea for tonight.

Q: Okay, I won’t keep you any longer. Last question, what’s your favourite song?

L: I have too many to pick just one but at the moment I’m listening to Ivory Road by King Charles. Can’t get enough of it.

Q: Thank you!

L: Au revoir

I mounted the six shallow steps and faced the double front doors. Twin carriage lights cast a soft gleam over the brass plaque with its discrete lettering:

Club Hard

Private Members Only

I desperately wanted to run back down the steps, leap into my car, and drive home, but if I did, nothing would change, and I’d go back to dividing my time between working out, Candy Crush Saga, and the occasional night out with my friends. I might miss out on learning something about myself, something that could make a difference in my sex life. Worse, I might miss a chance at love.

I stayed, my feet rooted to the floor, but the insides of my hands were so damp, my finger slipped on the brass bell, setting off a short, discordant jangling. I winced as I rang it again properly this time. That certainly wouldn’t endear me to anyone.

Shifting from foot to foot, trying to keep the blood circulating in my toes, I looked around. Behind me, the gravel drive snaked away to a discreet carpark, and trees and shrubs created shadows within shadows. Autumn had finally reached London and in this exclusive part of it, crisp, clean air and earthy leaf mulch replaced the smell of fast food and exhaust.

I shifted again, starting to get irritated. If you were going to demand a woman wear nothing but a skirt that barely covered her butt, and a top that was little more than a bit of elastic bandage—on me it was ridiculous, if I sneezed, I’d pop out over the top—then you should damn well open the door promptly. Now, despite wearing my warmest coat over the absurd ensemble, there was a distinct draught zipping under my hem and freezing my exposed butt cheeks.

I lifted my finger to stab the bell again, and the door swung open.

Bloody hell. A real butler. I was no stranger to mansions with staff. Working as a bodyguard meant I saw the inside of a lot of wealthy homes, but so far, a liveried butler was a new one to me.

“Can I help you?”

I cleared my throat, wondering if there was any etiquette for addressing a butler, aware that my finger was still lurking in the vicinity of his eye. “Umm, I’m, ah, it’s Ms. Dainty. To see Mr. Dufort. I’m expected.”

He waved me through into a large marble-floored hall with a fire burning at one side. A wide, elegant staircase at the back curved away to the upper floors.

“I’ll inform Mr. Dufort that you’re here, if you’d like to take a seat.” He indicated a collection of sofas and easy chairs huddled as if for warmth around the fireplace. I made a beeline for the heat.

“May I take your coat?”

I crossed my arms tightly. No way was I exposing my scantily clad self. “Ah, thanks, but I’m a bit cold.”

“I see my guest has arrived, Henry.”

I turned away from the fire to see Lucien Dufort crossing the hall toward me. The floor seemed to drop a few inches and I had to grab the back of a chair to steady myself as his delicious, rich chocolate voice with its faint French accent wound around me, setting my heart hammering.

A tall, elegant man, he moved toward me with predatory intent, covering the floor in loose, confident strides, but it was his eyes that held my gaze, dark eyes, sharp with intelligence and power. He wasn’t a handsome man. His narrow-bladed Gallic nose, inherited from his mother, was slightly overlarge for that, but his lips were sensual, and the mix of tenderness and lust in his expression as he looked at me sent electric tingles charging down my spine.

“Rose, welcome to Club Hard.” He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, his tongue flickering into the little hollow between my two smallest fingers, mimicking the act of sex. Normally, that would be an instant turn-off, but when Lucien did it, everything inside me melted. I tugged my hand free and shoved it into my coat pocket. This was bad. We hadn’t even started yet and my hormones were doing a happy dance.

“Your coat, ma petite.”

I undid the buttons reluctantly and he stripped it off my shoulders, giving it to Henry before indicating my feet. “Barefoot, please.”

I obeyed, steadying myself with one hand on Lucien’s forearm. I could have rested it there all day, enjoying the feel of thick bone and the flex of hard muscles, but I quickly unzipped my boots and gave them to Henry, who took them as solemnly as if I was handing him the crown jewels for safekeeping. He disappeared, taking my things with him, and I stood shivering, waiting for Lucien to say or do something. I shouldn’t have felt vulnerable. I fought with this amount of flesh on display, so it shouldn’t have bothered me, yet insecurity and apprehension crept hand-in-hand up my spine. “Lucien?”

He cupped my chin, his palm warm and sure, his thumb stroking my cheekbone in a gesture I found calming. “Tonight, you will address me as Monsieur, or Sir.” His words sank deep inside me, reaching a place I wasn’t aware existed. A place I didn’t want to believe existed. I stepped back, dislodging his hand.

Lucien’s cheek creased in amusement. “So, ma belle perle, the challenge begins. Are you ready?”

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I’ve always loved writing and I won my first prize for a short story when I was still at primary school. I’m an avid reader of romance and erotic romance and can usually be found with my nose in a book. The dynamics and sheer variety of human relationships fascinate me, and this is what I like to explore in my writing. I live in North Yorkshire with my husband and cat where I enjoy running and Tai Chi.

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