| Author: | Aimelie Aames | ISBN: | 9781466137233 |
| Publisher: | Aimelie Aames | Publication: | January 28, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | Aimelie Aames |
| ISBN: | 9781466137233 |
| Publisher: | Aimelie Aames |
| Publication: | January 28, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
Anna Ixtassou is a witch who wants to be just like everyone else. Except that she went looking for the fast track to the top and has fallen under the spell of her boss, the magnificent Ewan Crest.
What follows is a series of trials and tribulations in the strange world of BDSM that force Anna to turn to witchcraft as her only means of escape.
A collection of three stories of intense sexual situations involving bizarre hardware and extravagant characters makes for a bundle of hot reading that you will not soon forget.
The stories of Anna Ixstassou, A Reluctant Witch in the Land of BDSM:
Shame and Delight at His Hands
Masked and Squirting Mayhem
Boxed and Bound in Paris
Excerpt:
I was dressed in a body suit of black mesh that hid next to nothing of my skin beneath. A silver mask hid my face from scrutiny and I carried a sort of short whip that Ewan had called a scourge. It was comprised of many strands of soft velvet cording, like an overlong tassel, finishing in a black, leather bound handle that felt good within my hand.
I doubted that it could ever inflict real damage as soft as the strands were, but the heft and weight of it gave me the illusion that I could yet control what was about to happen.
In very short order, that illusion was wiped away...
Our steps were slow, measured, and as we moved closer to the wooden contraption in the center of the room, a wolf faced man leaned in and said, "Oh, Ewan...the boxing is going to be wonderful this year."
Ewan gave no answer other than a slight nod then seized my arm as we drew near to what I had thought was a table.
It was not flat as any table should be, but a series of opened wooden compartments. The wood was old, its veneer polished and shining. The surface had been inlaid with marquetry of the finest sort. French craftsmen had placed capering animals etched in precious woods, their colors contrasting with the rest of the piece. There were astronomical symbols, of a quality meriting a place among the most precious works of black magic.
I looked at it and with a feeling of lead settling into my stomach, I could see that it was lined in red velour and in that interior, the velour would hold the form of a four limbed being. A human being. Its parts were articulated with heavy, antique hinges where the joints of a person would be but its soft interior could leave no doubt. It was as much a prison as an iron maiden rusting and blood stained in an ancient chateau, only lacking the needled interior to terminate its macabre charm.
Once closed it would hold a person completely. The only openings that I could make out were at the juncture of where a pelvis would fit, both front and back. There were also cutouts at chest level. Two of them through which breasts might be drawn and punished.
I looked to Ewan, alarm flashing through me, but he did not notice, his gaze intense and staring at the articulated device.
"Master...I can't. Not this time," I said. My tone was low, meant just for him, but he was uninterested....
Anna Ixtassou is a witch who wants to be just like everyone else. Except that she went looking for the fast track to the top and has fallen under the spell of her boss, the magnificent Ewan Crest.
What follows is a series of trials and tribulations in the strange world of BDSM that force Anna to turn to witchcraft as her only means of escape.
A collection of three stories of intense sexual situations involving bizarre hardware and extravagant characters makes for a bundle of hot reading that you will not soon forget.
The stories of Anna Ixstassou, A Reluctant Witch in the Land of BDSM:
Shame and Delight at His Hands
Masked and Squirting Mayhem
Boxed and Bound in Paris
Excerpt:
I was dressed in a body suit of black mesh that hid next to nothing of my skin beneath. A silver mask hid my face from scrutiny and I carried a sort of short whip that Ewan had called a scourge. It was comprised of many strands of soft velvet cording, like an overlong tassel, finishing in a black, leather bound handle that felt good within my hand.
I doubted that it could ever inflict real damage as soft as the strands were, but the heft and weight of it gave me the illusion that I could yet control what was about to happen.
In very short order, that illusion was wiped away...
Our steps were slow, measured, and as we moved closer to the wooden contraption in the center of the room, a wolf faced man leaned in and said, "Oh, Ewan...the boxing is going to be wonderful this year."
Ewan gave no answer other than a slight nod then seized my arm as we drew near to what I had thought was a table.
It was not flat as any table should be, but a series of opened wooden compartments. The wood was old, its veneer polished and shining. The surface had been inlaid with marquetry of the finest sort. French craftsmen had placed capering animals etched in precious woods, their colors contrasting with the rest of the piece. There were astronomical symbols, of a quality meriting a place among the most precious works of black magic.
I looked at it and with a feeling of lead settling into my stomach, I could see that it was lined in red velour and in that interior, the velour would hold the form of a four limbed being. A human being. Its parts were articulated with heavy, antique hinges where the joints of a person would be but its soft interior could leave no doubt. It was as much a prison as an iron maiden rusting and blood stained in an ancient chateau, only lacking the needled interior to terminate its macabre charm.
Once closed it would hold a person completely. The only openings that I could make out were at the juncture of where a pelvis would fit, both front and back. There were also cutouts at chest level. Two of them through which breasts might be drawn and punished.
I looked to Ewan, alarm flashing through me, but he did not notice, his gaze intense and staring at the articulated device.
"Master...I can't. Not this time," I said. My tone was low, meant just for him, but he was uninterested....
