| Author: | DS Delacroix | ISBN: | 1230000118833 |
| Publisher: | Adventures in Imagination Media LLC | Publication: | April 2, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | DS Delacroix |
| ISBN: | 1230000118833 |
| Publisher: | Adventures in Imagination Media LLC |
| Publication: | April 2, 2013 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
Her Master called her to the restaurant for a "special evening." What could he want? Archer liked to push her, but the restaurant was a new angle. What did he have planned? Daphne was nervous... When she showed up and the Chef was standing there, next to her Master, Daphne knew she was in for a bizarre evening. Try out a new, spicy slice of erotic fiction from upstart new author, DS Delacroix.
Daphne walked into the restaurant. She noticed that it was empty, which was odd, given that it was already 5:30. Her master’s restaurant business was one of the most popular in town since he always came up with new and innovative ways of presenting food. She shrugged and walked to the kitchen, where he had told her to meet him.
She pushed the swinging doors open and found Mr. Archer, her master, hunched over a table with the head chef, Henri. They both turned to look at her.
“Ah, good, Daphne is here,” Archer said, coming over to hug her. He drew closer and she opened her mouth, but he only gave her a peck, not his usual french kiss. He pulled over to the table and Henri looked her over. He was a big man, not very attractive, with a huge, outrageous mustache. She liked him well enough, but he was definitely not her type. Archer was: even in his late forties, he was tall and athletic, his lanky build still strong. His blond hair was rapidly converting to silver, but she found it attractive, especially given the nature of their relationship.
“I did what you said, Master,” Daphne said, putting on her most submissive voice.
“Yes, you did well,” Archer said, looking her over. “Now, remove your clothes. We need to get started.”
Daphne pulled the black blouse over her head and handed it to Archer. The two men stood in front of the table, watching her, their eyes roaming over her body as she undressed. She always enjoyed this, the exhibitionist side of her coming out, a little warmth and wetness forming between her thighs as their eyes drank in her nakedness. She let the short, black skirt fall to the floor and stepped out of it.
Daphne was tall and thin, with long, blonde hair. She had a long face with big, blue eyes set wide on her face. Her lips were full and her nose came to a tiny point, with a small downslope. Her breasts were not large, but they were firm and well-shaped. The overall effect was beautiful. Daphne knew that she was attractive, the prettiest of Master’s slaves. At least, that was what he told her, often. He loved every inch of her, alternating between wanting to love her body and wanting to hurt it. She took both in equal measure.
Her Master called her to the restaurant for a "special evening." What could he want? Archer liked to push her, but the restaurant was a new angle. What did he have planned? Daphne was nervous... When she showed up and the Chef was standing there, next to her Master, Daphne knew she was in for a bizarre evening. Try out a new, spicy slice of erotic fiction from upstart new author, DS Delacroix.
Daphne walked into the restaurant. She noticed that it was empty, which was odd, given that it was already 5:30. Her master’s restaurant business was one of the most popular in town since he always came up with new and innovative ways of presenting food. She shrugged and walked to the kitchen, where he had told her to meet him.
She pushed the swinging doors open and found Mr. Archer, her master, hunched over a table with the head chef, Henri. They both turned to look at her.
“Ah, good, Daphne is here,” Archer said, coming over to hug her. He drew closer and she opened her mouth, but he only gave her a peck, not his usual french kiss. He pulled over to the table and Henri looked her over. He was a big man, not very attractive, with a huge, outrageous mustache. She liked him well enough, but he was definitely not her type. Archer was: even in his late forties, he was tall and athletic, his lanky build still strong. His blond hair was rapidly converting to silver, but she found it attractive, especially given the nature of their relationship.
“I did what you said, Master,” Daphne said, putting on her most submissive voice.
“Yes, you did well,” Archer said, looking her over. “Now, remove your clothes. We need to get started.”
Daphne pulled the black blouse over her head and handed it to Archer. The two men stood in front of the table, watching her, their eyes roaming over her body as she undressed. She always enjoyed this, the exhibitionist side of her coming out, a little warmth and wetness forming between her thighs as their eyes drank in her nakedness. She let the short, black skirt fall to the floor and stepped out of it.
Daphne was tall and thin, with long, blonde hair. She had a long face with big, blue eyes set wide on her face. Her lips were full and her nose came to a tiny point, with a small downslope. Her breasts were not large, but they were firm and well-shaped. The overall effect was beautiful. Daphne knew that she was attractive, the prettiest of Master’s slaves. At least, that was what he told her, often. He loved every inch of her, alternating between wanting to love her body and wanting to hurt it. She took both in equal measure.
