Dame TylerRose.

“How may I please you, Empress?” he asked.

“With your mouth and your hands until I can’t cum anymore.”

He smiled and hopped to his feet. “That could take hours.”

“Indeed,” she replied, dropping the slinky nightgown onto the floor.

She sat on the edge of the bed, bringing a foot up to open herself. He looked on that wet flesh, reached a hand down to stroke up her t high, his mouth following.

“My Empress, with my mouth and hands, I worship you. I offer my body for use in your private pleasure,” he said.

Kisses up her thigh, hands soft and sliding over her skin. She was flush and plump in the labia. Slick and shimmering, with clitoris rising thick and round from its folds as his fingers parted the top half of her labia. Shew as still lush from her recent pregnancy, with full breasts and rounded belly.

He was delightfully skilled, and knew he was hitting the right spots when she needed to lie back on the bed. He pushed her knees far up and held them open as the Dragon would do. Channel shortened, his tongue delved deep into her to find and stimulate the textured G-spot behind her pelvic bone.

He loved the taste of her ejaculate, and knew how to make her squirt repeatedly. Her low groan and sudden shudder spurred him to more intense sucking down on her fattened clit. He gave her another good, hard cum that had her gasping for breath.

“Get up here. I need a cock,” she said a good 90 minutes into his attentions.

He didn’t have to be told twice. He could count on one hand the number of times his cock had known her. Always her anus. Always when her husbands were unavailable. Always with him on his back and she facing away. He was a disembodied cock for her to sate herself on, thrilled to be exactly that.

A slap of lubricant applied to his cock by her unkind hand and she was already lowering herself. Minute penetration of the tip, slowly up and down, taking millimeters more each time until she had cracked herself open. Jozef was not to help her by lifting his hips. Was not to participate at all. He couldn’t help his throaty roan, however. The reaming of two vigorous husbands had done nothing to stretcher her anus. Every single time, she’d been just as tight around him as ever.

Her muscles gripped tighter still as she began to ride. Long minutes he wished would never end as she rocked forward and back to take him all the way.

“I need harder,” she said, and was off him to put her face to the foot of the bed. “Fuck my ass hard as you can.”

Jozef said nothing, not about to ruin his moment. She’d never given this order before. He’d never been allowed to pump his hips toward her. He penetrated the same way she impaled herself, with repeated shallow strokes that deepened until he was stripping her out his whole length.

“Harder, dammit!”

He obliged, recognizing well those cries he made come from her. Many times, he had heard them under Dorn’s force, or the Dragon’s. She was a relentless, demanding lover. Insatiable and dynamic, like no woman he had known.

His climax nearing, knowing damn well he could not stop it, he used Jerome’s secret weapon of a trick. Left arm under her chest, he pulled her upright. Other hand reaching down, he rubbed hard over her clitoris with first and second fingers. That little sink, as her gut clenched, and her arms and legs pulled in out of her control. She locked in place, unable to move, and his climax erupted into her. He gave in to those last jerking spurts, knowing the lurching of his body would make her last orgasm all the more intense.

Read the Kingdom Key series in the USA: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B074CF9399

Not in the USA? Not a problem! Just copy the product code and past it into your country’s Amazon search bar. B074CF9399

————————-

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She’s been doing this BDSM stuff for 30 years in private and more than 10 years in public venues. 

She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

She enjoys crochet, coffee, and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

“Mind if I get a bottle of tequila?” he asked Adelaide.

“No, go ahead. You know which ones are copies, right? Take one of those.”

“I do. I’ll be right back,” he kissed her, and took the wide path around to the side of the portico so as not to interrupt the band. 

The billiards and recreation room, a gift from the Lagara to the Dragaro on the day of their wedding, was to the left under the landing of the grand staircase. Two steps in and he froze on the spot with the sound of an implement cutting through the air and landing on flesh. A guttural cry. Female voice. He closed the door and took cautious steps forward until he could see the Lagara, furious curls spilled over the green felt surface, a strong hand around the back of her neck to hold her there.

Slice of air, smack of skin, her brief cry, eyes creased tightly closed. She flinched, but did not fight as she received one methodical strike after another. One hundred times, to Wonu’s count, and the implement clattered beside her. A metal pointer like any school master would have. A brutal implement at this force, having left bright red stripes on her skin. Wonu’s mouth went dry to know the pain she had just taken with such composure.

He’d had no idea…

The door behind him clacked, the bolt lock sliding into place. The hand holding her down slipped around the front of her neck to lift her part way.

“Come see, Rosaas Wonu. You have often begged to serve her sex. Come here and see what that really means.”

“Is she punished?” Wonu asked gravely, seeing the crisscross of welts across her upper back, buttocks, and down her thighs.

“Oh, no. She should have asked me first if she could perform, but I am very pleased she wants to sing for the people. I love to watch her and hear her. A whipping first has been our ritual for quite some time. It makes her hot and wet for me. Her puss will throb relentlessly. Especially if I do this.”

His hand disappeared between her parted thighs, under her knee length dress, and she keened a loud howl. Wetness shot from her to spray onto the floor, ran down the insides of her thighs. Wonu felt an internal heat like never before.

“Adelaide likes some rough treatment,” Hades said. “She likes some spank and a little of the rod. But my horny Immaculate is a more eager whipping post than any Gethinian slave you’ve ever watched. Aren’t you my horny cunt?”

“For you, Hades,” she managed to gasp.

“She hears nothing right now except the words I think to her. She sees nothing, eyes closed under my command. She doesn’t know you are here.”

His hand slid over her welted back as he lay her down again. He bent over to kiss her shoulder blade, fingers reaching into her skin to pull her wing shafts up. Her groan was low and loud, nipples bursting erect. Hades’ hands stroked firm around the bases, back and forth repeatedly.

“I hold her life in my hand. Literally,” he said, putting her down and pressing her wings into her until they were gone. “I can do absolutely anything I want to her and she will meet me there eagerly every time. I could drop her in the middle of ten men and she would wear them out long before she was satisfied. I could whip her for hours for a paying audience. Or I can rape her right here for an audience of one.”

Cock out, he impaled her ass in one piston of a thrust with both hands holding her tight to the green felt by her wing roots. She screeched and cried out, and, to Wonu’s astonishment, lifted herself onto her toes for more and tried to fuck him back.

“She is single-minded in her lust,” Hades said, and smacked the side of her welted thigh a blisteringly hard strike with his flattened hand. “A thing you did not experience those few days alone with her.”

She had yelped with the spank, tried to push up onto her forearms for better leverage. Hades came with a pummeling drive and a sharp groan. Cock back in his pants, he picked her up with an arm under her chest and another under her hips. He carried her, limp and breathless, to the nearest sofa and placed her to rest with her back to the room. Her pipe on its arm, he kissed her cheek.

“Sit with her,” he told Wonu. “She’ll be upright in a few minutes and ready to toke her pipe. Think on this: If you want to tend the welts and ease her lust, you will only ever be her slave. If you want to whip her more and keep her always in the greatest of need for her Masters, only then can you hope to rise to a position of authority within the Immaculate’s life.”

He walked out, door locking again behind him. Wonu sat opposite her, palm over his mouth, and digested what he had seen. What he still saw. Her back was thickly welted with yellow and red stripes. Ten minutes and she drew a sudden and long breath in through her nostrils. She pushed up, eyes snapping open, breasts swinging. Arms through the cap sleeves of her white dress, she was covered enough that no one would know. She saw him over her shoulder, eyes so like a vixen.

“Enjoy the show?” she taunted.

—— 

From Dream On,  the 10th volume of my Kingdom Key series.

Read the rest here: 

USA — Dream on — https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0876KQJXX

UK — https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0876KQJXX

Canada — https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0876KQJXX

Australia — https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0876KQJXX

Not in one of those places? Not a problem. Just copy/paste the product code into your country’s Amazon search bar: B0876KQJXX

—– 

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. 

She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty six fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

“I’m not going to lay down a list of rules. You are an experienced slave, so you know what is acceptable. You know how to behave in private and in public,” he said quietly. “I do, however, want you to count how many times my hand meets your bottom. Not out loud. Count to yourself and when I ask, you tell me how many.”

“And if I’m wrong?” she asked.

“I‘ll correct you and give you another hundred. Are you ready?”

“Yes, please.”

“Did you attend a school of slavery?” he asked.

“I did.”

“Which one?”

“The Kaltman school in Hanton.”

Sir Phares nodded to himself. He knew of it. “And how did that school teach you to address the one to whom you submit?”

“As Sir, or by whatever form of address preferred by said dominant,” she said.

“Sir will do. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Still he did not bring his hand down on her bottom. Instead, he cupped and traced her buttocks, trailing a fingertip down the ridge of her closed thighs and up again to tease. With a nudge of his fingers, her thighs parted slightly and he could reach her pubic hair to tug.

“I like to tease my slave, keeping her in need at all times. I will arouse you before you sit to work, but not so terribly that you cannot type.”

“That helps me work, actually,” she smiled. “I go faster to be done for the day.”

“You work a set number of hours?” he asked, tracing the sensitive curve of her underarm.

“A set number of pages typed, unless it’s going very well. Or a whole chapter, depending on the length of the chapter.”

“I’m looking forward to watching you work.”

“I’m looking forward to this spanking. When you gonna get to it?” she quipped.

The hand closest to her head slipped under her shoulder and up the front of her throat until her jaw was cupped in his hand. He lifted her from her arms, lifted her so that her neck was stretched high and her head tilted backwards. Her breasts hung free, inviting a caress. He was tempted, but did not release her. He felt the short, hard exhale of the slave disciplined by unexpected action.

He brought her up farther, leaned in to be closer to her ear. He whispered. “In my own good time, slave.”

Keeping her as she was, he continued the teasing of her backside with light fingertips and gentle squeezes. 

“Others may hurry to the spanking but I do not. I prefer my slave be partially aroused before my hand comes down. Nothing I do is only to deliver pain. The female form is a delight unto itself, perfect no matter its shape or size. I will touch you at my leisure and you will let me. I will spank or flog you when I am ready and you will not ever prompt me again. Feel free to beg, however.”

Another moment and he told her to brace herself on her hands to hold position. She obeyed, insides quieted. She was almost ready to call him Master. He made her feel the slave within herself, made it come to the surface.

“Keep your head back,” he said, removing his hand from her jaw to slide down her throat and over her shoulder. 

It followed the curve of her ribcage to find her heavy breasts, to trace their curves and cup their weight. With a single caress to them, her nipples burst to erection. He stroked gently, teasing and tracing, feeling them harden with his stimulation. At long last he rolled one between finger and thumb, drawing a low moan from her.

His other hand fell to the fleshy curve of her left buttock, hard enough to jolt her but not enough to create more than a mild sting. He alternated, keeping his pace quick and force even. Cayna moaned softly, his fingers still toying with her nipples. She counted, enjoying the increasing burn to her behind.

“How many?” he asked, pausing to knead her warm bottom.

“One hundred sixty three.’

“That was your warm up. Now the real spanking begins. Continue the count where I left off.”

His hand fell harder, twice as fast, alternating as before. The sting of one did not fade before his hand returned to strike again. She whimpered, face pinching when the sting was more intense. Eventually she began to cry out briefly. He kept on. Four hundred…

His hand stopped and he watched her suck in ragged breaths. “How many, slave?”

“Four hundred eighty six,” she replied, almost adding the word Master. Her arms shook, nearly ready to give out as the haze of the slave’s dream space enveloped her.

“Hold yourself up,” he said, again kneading her bright pink bottom. “I’m not done with you yet.”

After a moment, he continued. She lifted her buttocks to meet his hand, sobbing without tears and desperately trying to keep count. Six hundred and ten…oh, it hurt so …so… wonderfully.

His finger slipped between her soaked nether lips to find her clitoris. She seized in orgasm, arms failing. She lay gasping for air, her body heaving over his lap.

“How many, slave?”

“Seven hundred and two,” she gasped, so close to calling him Master. If she said the word, it would be verbal acceptance of him as her Master and she would be his to command from that moment on.

“Is that the most you’ve ever taken in one sitting?”

“It is not, Ma—“  She clamped her mouth shut. Not yet. Not after one spanking.

Sir Phares heard the syllable and smiled to himself. He could have pressed the matter and made her say it; but more important to him was that she call him Master because she truly wanted to and recognized him as her Master. She would say it tomorrow for certain. Perhaps even later in the evening tonight. For now, he rolled his hand through her wetness to coat it on all sides. He slid all four fingers deep into her, delighting in her deepening, throaty moan. He tucked his thumb against his palm and curled his fingers and pushed into her gently. With patience, he worked his fist past the tight barrier of her pelvic bones. She gave a gruff, groaning moan and was very still. She gasped and moaned with the fullness.

Some he knew would twist or withdraw and push in again to fuck the slave with a fist. Sir Phares did nothing. He let his fist lay inside her, unmoving for minute after minute, watching as she opened her legs wide and lifted her rump. She was very responsive to gentle touches and patient insistence. He raised his arm to test her reaction. She lifted slowly to her knees. He pulled downward and she lowered herself, resting her head on his thighs. Not wanting to overdo, he relaxed his hand.

“Push me out, slave.”

Her muscles contracted and expelled his hand. Her grunt was loud and relieved and she shook visibly with the power of his possession.

“When is the last time you were fisted?” he asked.

“A couple years,” she gasped, eyes closed as she rested. The burning sting in her buttocks returned in full. She allowed it to do as it pleased, to throb in her breasts and mons.

“Have you thought on what to write?”

She laughed. “How can I think of such things with your fist in my puss?”

He stroked from neck to thigh, liking the way she gasped when his palm grated over her pinked behind. “I knew from your writings that you were a passionate wench. I underestimated you, though. I had expected you to be one who plays at being the slave. One who goes to the schools for basic research but doesn’t get involved beyond observation and the most rudimentary lessons. I’m sorry for my assumptions.”

She smiled, saying nothing.

“Was this enough for you to decide to accept me as Master?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she sighed.

“Well, I have pledged to see that you eat well. Put on your dress and we’ll go into town for lunch.”

Excerpt from the short novel The Cottage 

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0030MIG8I

—-

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

“To be here is a very sad time for our Queen. She knew love up on Mother Mountain. She had a mother and a father and a man she was going to marry. Her only blood family now is her sons. You know what it is like to be alone among strangers, to not know the way of things. You know what it is to be unable to converse with people. You know what it is to be torn from the life you know and made slave in a strange place. In these things, you and your Queen have much in common. It is part of the reason she is more tolerant of your many curiosities and minor disobediences. There have been times when I have wanted you punished but your Queen forbade it. It is not often I defer to her wishes in my Private Presence and I think you know that.”

He paused to watch her tremble. “Tonight I do not defer. You will receive every punishment you have coming for your transgressions today.”

Another brief pause while she wept openly.

“That’s enough. Straighten your posture and stop crying. I’m not done talking to you.”

About twenty seconds was all she needed to stop the tears. Her stricken expression did not change, however.

“Do you realize how pampered you are, little girl? Have you any idea how coddled you are as the King’s favorite slut? How little work you are made to do? Do you know how many freedoms you enjoy?”

She was stilled, not at all liking where this was going.

“You will not take advantage of your Queen’s kindness, slave. You are too familiar with your Mistress, too comfortable in her presence. You will learn restraint before she sees fit to teach it to you. Arms bound behind your back while being scolded is a small lesson. You could be bound every minute except those you spend in maid service to your Mistress. You could be bound for hours and hours while soldiers torment you at their leisure. You could be made slut to them instead of to your Mistress and I’m half tempted to do that for a few days to remind you of your place.”

He paused again to let that sink in. Slut to the soldiers was no small threat, as she’d seen by watching the bathhouse and confiscated slaves rush among them with mouths open, from one cock to the next. From one bedroll to the next in a never ending line.

“You could be kept on a leash with a gag in your mouth except for eating and performing oral service. You are not even kept in constant need like Echie is. All these things, and many others, would change should Her Majesty decide to implement more strict and demanding training for you. You had best be more mindful of your station in this Court if you wish to maintain your current status.”

He stopped, glaring down on her, decided the lecture was over. “I am so displeased with you that I am going to give you worse punishment than the paddle.”

He paused so long that she leaned forward to place her head on his knee. He reached over her to pull the half bow and release her wrists. A strong hand around her upper arm lifted her, turned her, placed her on her back across his hard thighs with her head hanging. He tied her wrists again, tighter this time, and flung them in fury over her head, displaying her from neck to knee with her feet flat on the floor. Her breath rushed out with his sudden roughness and her belly and chest heaved for air in her apprehension.

If he hadn’t been so pissed at her, he would have taken the moment to enjoy the site of her. His hand smartly slapped the inside of her left thigh as he barked, “Open!”

She parted her legs wide and his hands began repeated slaps to her breasts, womanly mound and the insides of both thighs. Not pleasant and stimulating, but very similar to Lord Moros and Jacek’s Iron Palm technique. Hard, unyielding…reprimand. 

“The spanks you got to your ass earlier were for disobeying Her Majesty’s order to stop pestering her. This is my punishment for displeasing me,” he said, and his right hand fell at its hardest to her right breast.

Peeper shrieked with the pain of his large, heavy hand, and continued to shriek or yelp, every strike compelling sound to tear from her throat.

“I know something our Queen does not yet know,” he said, his hands keeping their pace from one spot to the next so that she could not predict where they were going to fall next. “I know that Captain Kron warned you not to ask our Queen about the mountain. I know this because I told him to warn you as we were leaving, and I know that he did so.”

His left hand fell hardest yet on her womanly mound, bringing tears to her eyes and a full scream from her throat. She continued to sob, submitting to the pain of his punishment.

“I know that you disobeyed a Master when I was not here. This is what has displeased me the most.”

His hand landed on the inside of her left thigh just as hard. Anyone outside could hear only the smacks of his hands and her cries. He kept his voice low and controlled, measured

“When I am not here, Captain Kron is the Ranking Master. You are to obey him as you would obey me. Perhaps you were not told this, but that doesn’t matter. He is a Master and…”

His right hand fell six times in rapid succession on her right breast with his last six growled  syllables.

“…you did not obey him.”

He did not pause for her cries, did not slow, left hand finding that same spot on the inside of her left thigh, right hand catching that same spot on her womanly mound. His aim was unerring, his punishment painfully relentless. He did not let her catch her breath, regain composure, or even wait for one scream to end before his hand fell again.

“We are away from the Palace. This means all punishment is doubled.”

His right hand found her right breast, coming down so forcefully that she could not make a sound, her body stiff and arcing until the intense pain released her and the sting afterward brought fresh sobs and hot tears.

“With me, doubled means harder, not longer. More intense pain instead of extended pain. While you enjoy lesser pains, the right kind is still punishment to you.”

The same hand landed on her left breast in the exact manner and with the same effects. On it went, relentless and brutal and leaving the five most sensitive areas of her body battered as they never had been. Only Eklur’s crop on her breasts had been a worse punishment.

“The next time you are given a warning or an order by a soldier, you will obey,” he snarled, right hand striking her full against her nether lips, bringing a desperate sob from her throat and a sudden squirt of liquid from her channel.

His hands stilled. He let her lay gasping and sobbing for a moment across his thighs. Her breasts were bright pink and covered with welts formed in the shape of the tight line between his fingers. Her womanly mound was the same color, with much the same welt patterns. Her previously untouched inner thighs were splotched. Her chest heaved with the efforts of breathing and sobbing slow to calm.

With two fingers of his right hand, he spread the top of her nether lips to expose only her clitoris. Keeping her flesh open, he traced the nub with the tip of his left forefinger in slow circles. It popped up in an instant along with her whimpered cry and brief shudder. 

“You will be kept in need this night. You will serve without receiving a single pleasure or word of praise.”

He released her flesh and ordered her down. She knelt small before him, reached her head forward to press against his legs, and was refused the touch by his intercepting fingertips above her forehead.

“No. You have one more punishment coming. Her Majesty’s. Have you thought about what you will say to your Mistress?”

Peeper nodded.

“Then we shall go. On your hands and knees as befits a punished bitchslave.”

Excerpt from PEEPER — https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0033PSJIE

——-

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Twitter — https://twitter.com/DameTyler or @DameTyler
FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

FB Regular page —  https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseAuthor

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.

She arrived on the veranda, remembering it was very late and still the same night as baby Tiberius’ First Presentation. And Major Exeter’s promotion to General. The energy around her was vastly different than when she’d left. Lighter, more vibrant. Positive. She could feel it now without the heaviness of sadness and grief around her.

“Hey, gorgeous. Feel better about yourself?”

She looked over to see Jerome in the doorway. Long black hair of his American Indian heritage loose and damp; muscles cut deep and ripped all over above the black towel around his waist. He was a handsome hunk of man, that much was certain, and she smiled.

“Infinitely better,” she said, putting herself into his arms for a hello kiss. “An’ I ain’t had sex in three weeks.”

One arm around her, he walked backwards toward the bed.

“Hmm. Only been an hour for me. What if I’m not in the mood?” he teased.

She laughed outright. “Yeah, right! Your dick fall off while I was gone?”

She loved the grin he showed her whenever she was walking that fine line.

“Spoilin’ for a fight, little girl?”

“Maybe.”

“Shut the baby’s door so we can break furniture without waking him again,” he told her.

Reluctantly, she left his arms and went to the side access door between rooms. Dorn was coming in, about bumping into her.

“Femina.” A tone full of regrets and misunderstandings. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Shut the doors and apologize in bed,” she said, turning away from him.

He reached behind himself to shut the door and followed his lover and her husband to the bed, watched as she stripped off the minidress along the way. It fell to the floor and he kicked it aside. She wore no shoes or undergarments, her heart shaped buttocks bouncing an enticing rhythm as she walked. She was only about 5’3” tall, short by almost any standard of Voran and K’Tran, even much of Earth, and they were both tall men at six feet and six feet two inches.

On her knees over Jerome’s thighs where he sat at the edge of the bed, kissing with open lips, hands gripping in all directions.

“I missed you, Sifu,” she whispered.

“I see that. I don’t think she’s horny enough yet, Dorn,” he said, lying backwards and taking her with him. “Ream her ass for me and get her hotter.”

Jerome adored that little catch in her breath when he said something unexpected, enjoyed watching her expressions as she had to wait for it to be done. Dorn was never in a rush to have her, decades of not being allowed to seem too eager having trained his responses to be controlled. However violent they all enjoyed their love making, he always tried to start out as her tender, considerate lover. Fingertip trailing up the curve of the dragon tattoo on her back, he teased her as he stepped into place.

He could stand behind her and perform hard and deep penetrative thrusting without moving his hips. The benefits of having feline ancestors, and a penis that he could push out and retract at will. He held her down with both hands around her waist while one of Jerome’s hands was buried tight in her hair and the other held her at the shoulder. She didn’t fight or struggle, but in her blind need to fuck them back, she could throw them off at a bad moment. Or cause a painful accident to one or both men. She was a powerful lover with strength and stamina to match them both.

Dorn had tremendous self-control that matched his own stamina, able to give her the duration she needed without completely wearing her out. Finished, he stepped aside for Jerome to flip her over onto her back. Dorn went around the foot of the bed to the other side. Reaching for her ankles, he brought her feet far up to bend her in half and hold her knees and feet to the bed.

“I’m half tempted to knock you up again, woman,” Jerome threatened.

“Please, no. Not yet,” she blurted in a nanosecond.

“The next should be my baby, I think,” Dorn said.

“No babies!” she roared in a sound like she’d been possessed by a demon, a roar intense enough to shake the house.

Her energy broke the bubble around them and she threw Jerome sideways with a psychokinetic blast. Teleporting to her feet, robe already pulling onto her arms, she was through the inside doors and into Exeter’s room with the door closed before her two lovers could realize what happened. The men stared at each other.

“Way to go, genius,” they said at the same time.

Excerpt from RISE, book 9 of the series Kingdom Key

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B082M9YZFK

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books. 

FB Fan Page — https://www.facebook.com/TylerRoseGethis/

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.