Warnings: This story contains non-consensual sex acts, anal, oral, bodily functions, group sex, beating, tattooing, piercing.
Word Count: 154,299
ALSO AVAILABLE IN PRINT
Tina, Two Lips Reviews, 4/5 KISSES
"...[T]his book is really quite good, if you like extreme BDSM. I know I will not forget this book anytime soon. I hope that Ms. Natasha does some more BDSM books. I would really love to see where she takes her characters in the future."
Lupa, You Gotta Read Reviews, 5/5 STARS
"This is my favorite read of the year and a total must read for anyone curious about the BDSM life... The characters are well developed and endearing... I love this story. It is vividly detailed with a sweet ending that wraps up all the loose ends and brings light to all the shadows... Filled with lots of hot, steamy erotic scenes be ready to need a cold shower… Or three."
Her ardent journey filled with the kind of interminable passion best kept secret began with the sale of a lithograph, a drawing etched into a copper plate of a horny beast fornicating with his latest victim, a beautiful and rather innocent virgin. That man insinuated that these characters represented the two of them. Miller was captured by his commanding presence and by her own deep-rooted need for wanton passion. Sometimes she wondered if teenage fantasies of a life of erotic slavery contributed in some way to this impending destiny. Dreams in which she was cast as a submissive penetrated her thoughts during her teen years and continued to meddle with them throughout her young life. Had she only herself to blame? She wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. Her unconventional dreams currently mingled with reality in a way that resulted in confusion of the two for the usually responsible and intelligent young woman perhaps because her reality had juxtaposed with total sexual debauchery.
The reality was that she’d been kidnapped and christened a sex slave, a rebellious slave, and forced to engage in outrageously erotic acts with an enchanting libertine. And yet it seemed that this was what she truly desired. They had taken her, she thought, she had not gone willingly, and still she took responsibility for harboring lewd thoughts that provoked fate. Had she let her salacious thirst for B & D cloud her normally rational judgment? No, it was the lithograph that started it all, started her on this path of mind-blowing reluctance sex, a lithograph of two lovers engaging in a pornographic act, found in an art gallery specializing in erotica.
Now as she helplessly dangled like a human crystal from the castle chandelier Miller Smytheson thought about the path that led her to this moment. She immersed herself in a review of the past twelve months and tried to rationalize the decisions she’d made and the ones made for her. And in her immobilized state she had plenty of time to think and feel and dream.
Ten minutes ago he’d blindfolded her and adorned her in black; in the leather wrist cuffs lined in shearling, a velvet stomacher exposing her breasts, and satin ballet slippers whose satin laces matched those securing her waist to waspish proportion. Did other artists share this proclivity? Who? Hans Wolfdemere? No. Ribbonsfield Miller? Certainly not. Pablo Picasso? Maybe. Yes. She envisioned Picasso treating a woman like this. She’d read his lover’s autobiography and sensed the artist’s dominant sexual appetite. It was Picasso’s lithograph that had started it all.
Her wrists ached; her shoulders burned. The pain intensified. The corset kept her breathing shallow and her thoughts helped her veer focus away from the impending agony.
Had she agreed to this?
“I, um…I changed my mind,” she said, “I’m not…I’m afraid. I might dislocate my shoulder. I might fall….” “Milly, my love, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he replied confidently before he slid his tongue into her mouth one last time. Then he replaced it with the ball gag.
“Sh, sh, sh,” he whispered when he sensed her disagreeable protests. He lifted her arms above her head so that he could connect the hook to its place on the chandelier’s knobstick. She felt her imprisoned body ascend in the cool air, tickling her erect nipples. Her supple body exploded with sensations: goose-bumps from the cool air, wet slithering semen spilling from her reminding her of the feel of a thousand orgasms rendering her helpless. Helpless to prevent him from restraining her in this inescapable fashion. And in her helplessness Miller became the captive in luxurious bondage one last time.