At eighteen years of age, Kelsie of Kinleigh has nothing but a short and miserable life of poverty to look forward to. She is a peasant looked down on by the other peasants, clothed in rags and fed from the scraps of pigs.
Kelsie’s fortunes undergo a marked change when she is plucked from her little village by the sorceress Lady Victoria Varys. Victoria has plans for the innocent peasant girl – plans which are abruptly interrupted when an assassin named Leo Falkroy tracks them down with the intention of arresting Lady Victoria.
Lord Falkroy is a dangerous man. With a sword in his hand, he is second to none. He leads a life of rigorous discipline, leaving nothing to chance and ensuring that everything in his domain is firmly under control. He is educated, dominant and deadly – just as well, because Lady Varys is about to lead all of them into very big trouble.
“This does not need to be unpleasant,” Serkan soothed as her clothes began to fall to the floor. “You may find parts of it very pleasurable.”
“I bet you I don’t.”
His hand slid down her naked belly to cup her sex. His powerful fingers were warm against her tender lips and she let out an involuntary moan.
“That’s not fair, Serkan.”
“Take your treatment like a good patient, and I will fuck you like a bad girl,” he growled in her ear.
“Mnnn… that’s even less fair,” she moaned softly, squirming as his hand caressed her pussy. He knew her weak spots all too well. They had only slept together once before, but it had been the best sex of her life and she wanted more.
“Sit on the seat,” he murmured in her ear. “I promise this will feel good. At times, at least.”
Finally, Faith allowed herself to be maneuvered into the seat. Serkan began to strap her legs into the stirrups, wrapped a thick band underneath her ribs and stomach, and did the same for her arms. In moments, she was utterly immobilized.
“Now these will move you into various positions,” he said. “The machine will adjust you as necessary according to my inputs.”
He pressed a few switches and turned a knob. Faith found herself beginning to slowly rotate around on an axis, the seat of the chair moving away from her bottom, leaving her suspended face down over the machine, held in place by the strapping. It was the strangest feeling, to be dangling and yet held securely.
She squirmed a little, testing the strength of the binding, but it held firm. She couldn’t really move much at all. Serkan adjusted her a little more, so her butt was angled up. Then she heard the soft whirring of a motor as, between her legs, a probe rose from the innards of the machine. It was thick, much like a man’s phallus and when she put her head down and looked along the length of her body, she could see that the flared head of it was secreting some kind of gel.
A moment later, the probe made contact with her pussy. It found her lower lips unerringly and began to rub up and down them slowly, spreading the gel along the length of her slit.
“Oh god,” she moaned softly. “Serkan… is this some kind of sex machine?”
“This machine is calibrated for sexual stimulus,” he said. “But it is designed to reward certain mental patterns and punish others. You see the plate near your head? That is taking readings from your brain. Obedient responses will earn pleasure. Rebellion or criminal processes will earn punishment.”
“So it knows what I’m thinking and can punish me before I even do anything wrong?”
“Precisely,” Serkan said. “You have a quick understanding.”
The probe was still running up and down the length of her slit and slowly it began to slide inside her, spreading her pussy around its unyielding synthetic hardness. Faith let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure as she was slowly filled. This was not the treatment she had expected, but it was the treatment she needed. Her bonds kept her firmly in place as the probe slowly slid into her sex and stopped in place.
“One more,” Serkan intoned.
“One more?” Faith gasped. “What do you mean?”
Twenty-four-year-old Faith Rockford has been fending for herself for as long as she can remember, but when she steals an extremely valuable piece of technology and attempts to sell it on the black market things go terribly wrong and she ends up barely escaping with her life.
Though it is against the laws of his world to interfere in the affairs of less developed planets, Serkan cannot bring himself to sit idly by while one of the humans he has been studying is in desperate need of help, so he rescues Faith and heals her injuries. But he is certain that the beautiful, feisty young woman will require extensive correction and training to teach her right from wrong, and he starts by baring her bottom and spanking her soundly for her recent theft.
The stern chastisement arouses Faith deeply, and after he brings her to a blushing climax over his knee she is left begging for Serkan to claim her hard and thoroughly. When he takes her in his arms, the handsome alien doctor’s masterful lovemaking proves more pleasurable than she could have ever imagined, and their lust for one another quickly blossoms into a passionate romance.
Once they reach his planet, however, the ruling council decrees that if Serkan wants to keep his human then she must undergo a series of intimate behavior modification treatments, and Faith soon finds herself naked and helplessly restrained as she is both pleasured and punished. But even when her ordeal is over, will this foreign world ever feel like home to her?
Her heart is pounding. Her mouth is dry. Her hands are shaking ever so slightly as she tugs at her skirt. The hem is well below her knees, but it feels too short.
She is in trouble.
His voice is rumbling with words of censure. She’s not hearing the words, not really. She’s hearing the future in them. A future in which her bottom will blush red with the prints of his palm.
The tremor is deep inside her, a spark of mischief which is zipping about low in her belly – a tingle between her thighs that makes her press them together hard and clench the muscles in her tummy. Beneath the temporary cover of panties and skirt, the bud at the apex of her lower lips is becoming a taut little round of desire. The slight movement of the fabric between her thighs, pressing against her mound is enough to stimulate her.
He knows this.
He knows the way her hips dance in a slow squirm under his hard gaze. He has seen it many times before. He knows the clipped, stern words he is speaking are not making her sorry for what she’s done. She is not apologetic. She does not regret her actions. She is relishing her disobedience in this extended moment of disciplinary tension, a reprieve before the storm which will turn her into a wailing, writhing woman over his broad lap. Tears will fall before he is done with her. She will beg for forgiveness – and find it. But all of that is yet to come.
Her breath catches in her throat as he reaches out, his large hand capturing hers. He pulls her down over his thighs, her skirt sliding up vulnerable thighs, his palm laying across the back of her skirt.
Celeste let out a little sigh, tried to hide it as a yawn and failed. Nobody noticed. These political meetings were so boring. At least, on this occasion, the general her father was meeting with was a handsome one, and one of the younger generals too. General Alistair Clark had distinguished himself in battle and earned the title several decades ahead of most of his peers. Vector Prime had been a rogue planet when he began his career. Under his hand, it had flourished into one of the most profitable element mines in the System. Parts of her dress were spun from metals found in Vector Prime’s rust red caves. She fingered the folds of the fabric, enjoying how fine and smooth it felt beneath her fingertips.
“Are we boring you, Lady Celeste?”
The general’s voice rumbled through her, provoking a burst of adrenaline which shocked her out of the inspection of her dress and made her look at him properly for the first time. She had become accustomed to ignoring illustrious figures, figuring one general was much like another. The fact that he had addressed her so directly, with a hint of humor as well as censure in his deep voice shattered that illusion instantly.
Alistair was quite a singular looking man, with dark hair slicked back over a powerful skull, a broad face and even broader body. He wore the close fitting dark armor of his post which followed the lines of his body, hard plates marking each of his muscles in what amounted to a jigsaw of masculinity. War had left its mark on him, he had quite a noticeable scar on the left side of his face which made his left eye a pale version of the dark right. He was a man built for power, both physical and political, unlike her father who was a short, slight man well versed in manipulation and little else. Seeing them together was almost comical, a fact which no doubt raised her father’s ire from the outset. Keep reading…
The only thing more formidable than an advanced super soldier is the man who tames her. Jax is a handler, a man tasked with the most dangerous job in the world – keeping genetically engineered ultra soldiers under control. He does his job very, very well through a combination of natural strength, some synthetic implants, and an iron hard approach to discipline.
Sonya is an ultra soldier, a talented young woman with a bratty streak a mile wide. Unfortunately for Sonya, her old handler just died and she doesn’t like the new one very much at all. Jax is a strong believer in long hard spankings as a consequence for bad behavior, and Sonya is a believer in getting away with damn near everything.
The grieving young woman and her new master clash in a series of erotically charged confrontations during which Jax makes it abundantly clear that she is his in every way possible. He takes her pride, her arrogance and even her virginity.
But an ultra soldier is made for war, and when Sonya is called to the front, she goes gladly, having no idea that she is being sent on a suicide mission.
Jax knows better, but is powerless to save her from her fate – or is he?
For Jax to save Sonya, he will have to go to the ends of the earth and the gates of hell. And for Sonya to survive, she’s going to have to learn that there’s more to life than rebellion and war.
Stay tuned for excerpts and more from this upcoming release!
Sarah doesn’t want to get up early and walk her dog, but Sergeant Austin Black isn’t having any of her attempts to avoid a good dose of discipline…
“Are you sulking?” He asked the question mildly as she joined him, very much pouting.
“No,” Sarah scowled. “But this is stupid.”
“You need discipline,” he reminded her. “Without it, you end up in a heap. So why don’t you try relaxing and letting me give you what you need instead of fighting me every step of the way? I’m used to stubborn little beasts. Don’t think you’re going to wear me out.”
Sarah hid behind her coffee mug as much as that was humanly possible.
“I can’t wake up this early,” she muttered. “This is not a time for people to be awake. Even Nunu isn’t up yet.”
She was right. Nunu remained wrapped up in his blankets on the couch, stoically asleep.
“Nunu!” Austin called his name. Nunu did not stir.
“He puts himself to bed every night at eleven and doesn’t get up until nine,” Sarah said. “He has a routine.”
“He’s the only one in this house who does,” Austin said. “He’ll get up when he realizes there’s something in it for him.”
“And what’s in it for me?”
“Not having your butt warmed before the walk, though that’s becoming a lot less likely every minute you spend not eating breakfast.” He looked at his watch. “If we’re not out of here in ten minutes, I’m going to spank you.”
“Spank me now,” Sarah said. “Then I can at least go back to bed.”
Austin cleared a place on the table and pointed to it. “Bend over.”
“Fine,” Sarah shrugged. “I don’t care.”
She bent over, lifting her bottom high with gleeful defiance. “Spank me.”
“Oh, I’ll spank you,” he said, pushing her nightshirt up over her hips. “We’ll see how eager you are once I’m done with you.”
Sarah held position and waited for his palm to fall. It didn’t. She heard him messing around in the kitchen, but she couldn’t see what he was doing. It became clear fairly quickly when he returned to her side, put his palm on her lower back and smacked her hard with something much smaller and harder than his hand.
“What the hell is that?”
“It’s a wooden spoon,” he said. “Very effective on spoiled brats who don’t think that a spanking is a big deal.” He brought the spoon down again several more times, whacking her hard and fast. Each swat burst across her bottom with a sting that seemed far greater than such a relatively small implement could be expected to have. An ache followed, quickly replaced by another sting when he brought the spoon down yet again.
Sarah tried to stand up, but Austin held her firmly in place, spanking her through increasingly vociferous complaints.