Dame TylerRose.

His fingertips pulled her chin toward him for a gentle kiss she didn’t hesitate to return. A nice kiss that expected nothing, wanted nothing, took nothing. A giving kiss. She’d not had one of those in a long time. Not since her one night with Jerome.

“You’re some kind of fantastic. You know that?” he said quietly.

She only smiled and kissed him again, a small box coming to her fingers and she lifted it for him to see. A box of three condoms.

“You don’t have anything and I don’t have anything,” she said. “I can’t get pregnant anyway. But you like putting one onto your fingers to slip up the back side and I very much like a good double penetration. I’ll do bareback vag to ass, but not ass to vag.”

His brain stopped. Staring at the box and then looking into her eyes again. “I’m not ready to love. It’s too soon.”

“Neither am I,” she replied. “It’s not about love and I’m not asking for a relationship. It’s about want and need and sharing things we both enjoy a great deal. I need to know it can be good again. I don’t even want foreplay right now. I need penetration and lots of it, so go as long as you can.”

That was good enough for him. He pulled her jeans off, taking the bikini underpants with them…and tried to ignore the bruises covering her from top to bottom. She pulled her shirt over her head while he undressed.

His warm, curly-fuzzed chest against her cool breasts, his chocolate caramel skin against her pale, soft lips on hers as he leaned on his hip between her thighs. Her small hand grasped his hardening shaft in the casual stroke of an experienced woman.

“You can tell me to stop. Right now,” he said.

“No, I can’t. I need it too much. Please.”

“Please it is,” he said, turning into position to drive his cock all the way in.

She flinched a wince with the pain she’d expected, and gave a relieved groan when the sensation passed. That fast, it was only good. Lifting her hips to take him as far as he could fit, she sighed away the world. 

Balls deep on the first undulation, he took to his slower rhythm for a good, long riding. Taking her through several hard cums, he was in no hurry to have anything finished.

“Are you ready for the other now?” he asked after he’d given her a few more.

“Please.”

Still inside her, he paused to open the box and rip open a package. Condom rolled onto his middle two fingers, he reached around her thigh and under to find the tight center of her anal opening. One fingertip at first, to start to open her, then the other, sliding that first half inch, then the full inch, driving deeper and deeper with each until he was fucking her ass the full length of his fingers. 

She started the humping on her own, needing more and taking his double penetration for another good, long time. He couldn’t hold off his ejaculation anymore.

“Don’t stop your hand,” she hurriedly gasped when she thought he would stop. “Please. Keep going.”

He did, taking her onto her side face to face for more kissing while she held him tight and sighed and groaned her bliss.

“You like a long ass fuck a lot more than most women I’ve known,” he commented when she was still able to cum half an hour later.

“I adore it. When you can get hard again, I want you to fuck it with your cock as hard as you can for as long as you can.”

“Hard?”

“Very hard.”

“Like this?” he said, and rammed his fingers into her far harder.

“Fuck, yes!” she groaned, liquid cum gushing from her puss.

“I like how much you cum,” he said when she grunted out another one a moment later. “My cock is getting hard. You still want it?”

“Fuck yes!” she gritted out, shuddering against him.

“Then get on your knees and open your ass for me.”

But he didn’t stop his hand. She had to do it while his fingers were still working in and out of her. Turning onto her knees first, backing to the edge of the bed and parting her knees wide, cheek to the mattress and puss pulsing hard, all the while his hand giving her no respite.

Once she was in position, he pulled his fingers out and stripped the condom off inside out. Another on his cock, he was in her hard to the base, and bent over to kiss her flaming hot cheek.

“Jerome was a stupid fool not to take you back to your home that night. How hard you want me, baby?”

“Like you intend your cock to come out the top of my head.”

That’s what he gave, her loud screams into the mattress spurring him on. He reached around her hip to find the point of her clitoris. Wide open, exposed and vulnerable, a touch made her give an involuntary yelp of surprise. He took to tapping it twice in a row every twentieth (or so) thrust into her, keeping her on the edge of a clitty popper until she was pounding a fist into the mattress. Then he kept patting continuously until she went into the full body gripper orgasm. His body slamming into hers while she shuddered violently on her knees, she was as passionate as some she-beast.

“More, baby?”

“Yes!”

He pulled out, pulled the condom off, flipped her over onto her back and rammed himself hard into her soaking wet puss. She was beyond insatiable, completely lost to her own lust and greedy need. Limbs drained of all strength yet she still managed to lift her hips to fuck him back. Her arms far overhead, he placed his hands over her bruise-covered breasts to grip and brace himself. She only came again. 

He finished off with a mighty groan, and came back to the physical place. The movie’s credits were rolling. They’d fucked through the entire two hour and fourteen minute movie.

“God damn, woman! You always fuck like that?” he asked, falling behind her on the bed while she turned onto her side to face the television.

“When I need to,” she said, flicking a finger out to start the tape rewinding.

——

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.

“Bring the slave to me fully prepared for punishment. Take the nipple jewelry out,” he told Jacek, and turned his back on them to walk down the left side of the apartment.

Master’s side.

Reah went into the slave hall side and was stripped down and flushed out in both orifices. The gold bars with rubies and diamonds were removed from her nipple piercings. A small thing, but it measured his displeasure. If he ordered them removed, she was the lowest of the low slaves until he put them back in. Only the gold chain he’d had sealed on her, and the flower bracelet on her wrist, remained to adorn her. Jacek did not even put a flower in her hair.

“Time to pay for what I said,” she muttered, and went through the narrow corridor between slave room and toilet room.

Preece was in the front sitting room reading a letter. His thin cane and the leather muzzle were already on the seat beside him. She was definitely going to pay for her impertinence.

“Let yourself out, Jacek,” he said, not looking up from the letter.

Jacek bowed his good night and departed, leaving Reah on her knees waiting in the silence. She waited a good while in posture with her arms behind her back and head bowed, knowing better than to speak out of turn when he was already unhappy with her behavior.

“Put the muzzle on.”

She knew how, and secured it firmly. Long minutes more with her jaw held shut and he all but ignored her, turning the paper over to read the back side.

“Sit on the slave chair,” he finally said.

The chair pseudi had been strapped in many times, held open for use by the men of the chamber. She sat on the edge of the seat, knowing he would place her however he wanted her configured. No doubt she’d get a caning across her puss with that super thin shaft that bit deep and bruised for days. She hated it and she loved it at the same time. She loved to hate it and hated to love it.

He was always quiet before issuing a punishment, his silence part of the whole to build her anticipation and clear his own mind for what he would do. He would be the picture of self-control, doing exactly what he wanted to the degree he wanted and going no further. At last putting the letters down, he stood to come toward her in that slow pace she knew too well. 

Deliberateness.

If Preece was one thing, deliberate would be that thing. Every action had a purpose for her or for himself. Everything was thought out, to the smallest motion and detail. While he disliked the reasons for having to punish, he could not say he did not like enacting it.

“Hands.”

She lifted them to him and he pulled her arms backwards over her head to be locked into the cuffs attached by a very short leash to the back edge of the chair. Elbows pointed up, the position was at once awkward.

“Bend at the knee. Feet back.”

Her ankles were quickly cuffed to the chair’s front legs. This kept her buttocks toward the edge of the seat. She couldn’t go too far back because her arms wouldn’t bend that far. Couldn’t go too far forward because her ankles could not be moved. She was open from breasts to knee, and forced out even more when he shoved two pillows behind her into the void between her back and the curve of the chair. They would take her weight and prevent her from pulling her spine backwards more than an inch or so. She could not escape, no matter how she squirmed.

He brought the thin cane over, lovingly stroked its length between finger and thumb tips as he looked down at her vulnerability.

“You know very well not to use curse words when speaking to me. Your fucking country, is it? It’s my fucking country too, and I will not have you sounding like a common fucking whore.”

The cane swung down, landing across the top of both breasts at once and leaving a crimson stripe that swelled to a welt at once. The deep stinging bite of it sprang forth a scream and tears of an unexpected sort.

“My slave does not speak foul words or she is not permitted to speak until it is time to put on Queen’s clothes again,” he said, and struck again. “I did not give her the power of speech for her to speak like a street walking prostitute.”

So she knew the muzzle would probably be on until morning. Struggling in the cuffs, held in place and squirming, there was nowhere to go to get away from his punishment. There never was.

“My wife does not speak foul words or she does not get my love.”

A third strike, horizontal and landing just above her nipples and her screams went on for nearly half a minute as the pain of it worked its way through the layers of breast tissue and out over her skin in the tingling fire she both hated and adored.

“If my slave needs a beating, there are certainly better ways to go about it.”

Fourth strike slightly lower, directly onto both erect nipples. He wasn’t swinging nearly as hard as he could and she knew it. The stick caught her under the arms scant seconds into her screaming reaction to the measured and accurate strike. He was always so bloody accurate.

“Keep those arms up,” he said with a quick whap to the underside of her right arm.

Then between her thighs, back and forth smart and fast.

“Open that cunt.”

Her knees parted and he stood between them to give her a sharp vertical strike to the puss. Her bottom bounced on the edge of the seat, body twisting as her thighs pressed together around the cane.

Solid taps to the outside of a thigh.

“Open back up.”

Heaving for breath after breath, sweating with the effort of taking this kind of intense pain, she opened her knees. Another strike would be forthcoming but disobeying would get her far worse than obediently taking what he chose to dish out. He stepped between her knees and she got several more painful whaps to her labia. Unable to close against his legs, she could only screech and howl in the muzzle. The end of the cane pressed under her chin to lift it and make her look at him.

“The punishment for foul words keeps getting worse every time I have to issue it, doesn’t it?”

She nodded, whimpering with the continuing sting to breasts and puss and tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

“You’d think you’d learn the lesson already,” he said, moving aside to give her a strike to the top of her breasts where the first had been.

Three more, placing them as he’d done the others but landing one after the other in faster succession to keep her howling and sobbing in the extreme pain. This was no reward for a foul mouth and they both knew it. A few naughty words was not worth taking this harsh punishment.

He left her to suffer and cry it out, pouring himself a small whiskey and savoring every minute of her distress. He waited for her to calm and quiet before approaching once more. Just that motion, of turning to her with the cane in hand and taking his place, was enough to send her into a fit of fresh tears. 

He gave her a third set of stripes over the first two, to drive the lesson home before wiping the cane with the soft cloth and putting it back into its carved case. Hung in its place, he walked up behind the chair and crouched low to kiss her temple. Hands reaching around to cup her breasts, thumbs strumming those beaten nipples, and she keened a renewed cry with her back arching high. A different kind of cry, overloaded with pleasure and pain. Orgasmic.

“The punishment that keeps on punishing,” he said close to her head, and snapped his finger onto a nipple in one of those hard stingers Jacek had so liked to use in discipline.

She gave an involuntary yelp, a single note that greatly pleased the Beast in his belly.

“Will you be more mindful of your language?” he asked, and stung the other nipple to hear it again.

She nodded, screeching into the muzzle and writhing in the cuffs in a most adorable way.

“I will punish you harder next time, you know.”

He gave her a double stinger, his cock hardening to marble with the sounds  she made for him. He let her out of the wrist cuffs but held her arms there a moment while he smacked those already striped breasts. The color, bright red stripes crossing over each other across her white pale. Welts swelling long and thick from one side all the way to the other above her breasts and the twin lines on the fullness of both beautiful…

Out of the ankle cuffs with hard pulls. He could not wait any longer.

“Punishment is over except for the muzzle. Get on my bed. Face down, ass up.”

Excerpt from Peeper Ascendant

——-

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.

Rigio saw her coming through the bedroom.

“Stay there.”

He met her at the door when she stepped through, took her by the hand and kissed her cheek and told her how lovely she looked. Seating her in the companion chair, giving her a small whiskey, he put the cane in her hand.

“I’ll be right back. Wait for me.”

Lady Boldon and Iris were waiting by the door of the suite. He said goodnight and let them out and locked the door. Turning off lights along the way, the apartment darkened behind him. He liked this layout, the controlled path and entry, the one way emergency exit in the wall.

“I’d like to watch you cane the slave, Reah,” he said, stopping near the chairs. “Inspire him to good oral service.”

She smiled and stood as he opened his pants and sat near the front edge of the chair. His cock and balls hung freely. Property eased forward to take the base of this new cock in hand to stroke.

“No hands,” Rigio said. 

Which forced Property to brace his hands on the floor to lean far enough forward that he could suck and keep his backside presented. As always, the Namrata did not start lightly. Not her hardest swings, but certainly not gentle and coaxing. She swung methodically until his ass was on fire, then changed target between his legs to whap back and forth rapidly just at the bottom of his ball sack. Then up to strike the sack directly.

Grunts and fast breaths as he dealt with it. Rigio held back his chuckles as Property struggled to take his Mistress’ mean cane and give proper oral service at the same time. The torment of stroking his cock and balls softly with the cane about drove Property over the edge every time. She knew well how to balance the pain and the pleasure. When she gave him a hard kick to the balls, Property almost spilled onto the carpet. His groan was loud, he shuddered inside his skin and sucked down harder to avoid biting the cock in his mouth.

Rigio watched her, saw her tight focus…and the beast in her blood. Not like the Beast in Preece’s belly. That was mostly Parin. This was her own cruel streak, learned at the hands of a cruel man, and tempered by living among others who had control and had taught her control. Otherwise, he’d worry she was just a murdering brute.

She grew strong as she got deeper into the beating and Property did not put on a show of noise. She said nothing, did not taunt or verbally humiliate. She increased her force swing after swing, pausing after a smashing hit that about sent Property through the roof. She took a step away to give Property a moment to regain his composure after the open-mouthed scream, give him time to resume his vigorous sucking.

Rigio pushed him away. “Go to your room.”

“He can take much more,” Reah said, and smacked his ass once more as he crawled by her.

“I’m sure he can,” Rigio said, leaving the seat. “But I want you. Now.”

He picked her up around the waist, carrying her straight through the doorway and to the bed. On the edge of the foot, the nightgown sliced down with a knife he was too fast with, he pushed her to lie back, pulled her thighs around his hips to have her with a vigor he’d not shown her before. Gown ripped the rest of the way up, he took his belt from his pants to whip her breasts as they slid and jiggled with his hip force.

“Is that why you brought these gowns?” she asked when he turned her over to stand off the side of the bed and sliced it from her back. “To destroy them?”

“Yes,” he replied, and gave her a long beating to her upper back, buttocks and thighs.

He wailed on her until she could barely keep on her feet and her hands were no longer trying to grip the sheets. Belt aside, he finished in her ass in a few hard and fast minutes very unlike his other sodomies.

“Starting right now, I will keep you hot and horny as you were in Mida. Your satisfaction is at my mercy and you will not be sated every day. Climb up and go to sleep and don’t you dare try to jack yourself.”

She did climb up, slow and stiff  and deep into the dream space. She was sated through the beating and plenty of orgasms, not needing the finisher to be at peace. Happily beaten, more so than she’d been in a long time, and curled onto a side to sigh her content, she fell into a hard sleep in a matter of minutes.

Kissing her cheek, smiling at his good work, Rigio gathered up the remnants of the nightgown into a pile and went into the sitting room to get another shot of whiskey and turn off the lights. He went out onto the balcony outside the office room to see what could be seen.. He could not see the men on the roof, which meant they could not see him. Why were there men on the roof? He would put them on the ground instead.

Heading for the bathing room intending to take a quick one himself, he heard a noise inside the slave bedroom. Opening the door, he found the slave on his knees on the floor, trying to finish himself off over the piss bucket.

“Having trouble?”

Property startled, looked up. He was having difficulties. “The Namrata knows how to keep me in agony of need all too well, Master. I cannot finish for wanting her small hand or Master’s harsh invasion.”

“Come here.”

Property followed Rigio into the corridor between bathing room and bedroom. Painful hand in his hair and another around his forearm put him hard up against the smooth, painted wall. Scant seconds and he was penetrated enough like Moros had done in the Temple in Mida.

“If you’re going to cum then do it,” Rigio hissed, pinning the slave to the wall and thrusting in sharp jerks. “I will keep her in need. But not you. So if you need an ass rape before you can sleep, I’ll rape your ass when you least expect it.”

Property groaned with his cum, his hard shaft pulsing and throbbing between his belly and the unyielding wall. His warm goo spurted in slow blobs with each jerk from Master, smearing over his skin and the wall.

Rigio kept going until his own climax shot out, and let go the slave.

“Clean up that mess,” he said, and went to take that bath.

Excerpt from Peeper of Gloriana

——-

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/

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.

“Only one more room to see,” he told her.

“Gee, I wonder which one.”

He changed his mind. “It can wait.”

In seconds, she was on her back on the square foot stool with him thrust in to the hilt. Only a few moments and he pulled her off to straddle his waist. Feet on the floor, in her heels, hands on his shoulders, she had leverage to ride him well.

“Work for me, Pussycat,” he urged. “Show me how hard I can be inside you.”

Her channel being deeper made it impossible for the average K’Tran male to fill her and strike the core to cause her to ovulate. He was not the average K’Tran male, however. His shaft was longer, thicker. In her position, her channel was at its shortest when he was fully inside her. She jammed herself down, seeking on instinct to feel his solid strike against her cervical plate. Desperate sounds of a Femina in her prime, and his primal self heard. She sat harder on him, gasping when she felt him hit that spot that burned the most. She went weak for those few seconds, and he decided her dress was too much in the way.

“Where does this untie?” he asked of the lacing.

She laughed. “I’m not telling.”

He searched the front for the string ends, could not find where they’d been tucked in behind her neck. Without a word, he reached into his pocket for the balisong given him by the Dragon his first day as a raw recruit. His first Earth weapon. Open in a clacking flash, he sliced the strings up the front.

A lift as he got up and she landed hard on the footstool. He cut the strings up the back as well and turned her over to slice the material from her waist to her knees.

“Never wear this dress again!” he commanded, dropping the knife to rip the skirt apart to the hem.

Adelaide laughed. “I think you took care of that, lover,” she said, sitting up to pull the sleeves off and let the shredded dress fall to the floor.

He captured her left hand to kiss her palm, and stood with her.

“My ringlet. My teeth marks. A great pair of shoes. Let’s go out to dinner!”

She laughed again as he took her to the big sofa. On her belly with his soft word and he raised her bottom up with a guiding hand. Cock greased with lubricant kept under the cushion, he sank his thumb into her sheath first, to find the right spot. When her head drooped and he heard that certain low moan, he slowly drove into her welcoming anus. A new, deeper groan emanated from her.

“How’s that, Pussycat?”

“Mmmmm,” she hummed.

“More?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

He took her straight to a climax more intense than when he’d popped her clit on the station. On wide knees, she lowered her pelvis and shuddered violently. Breath held as he gut clenched, she let go a flood no Voranian could ever produce. He drove into her in forceful jolts, the clench of her muscles squeezing his climax from him whether he was ready for it or not. Stripped empty, he slipped out to lay behind her and rest as she flopped onto her side. Knowing her legs weren’t going to support her for some time, he pulled down the light blanket from the top ledge of the sofa and opened it to cover them both.

Excerpt from Ties That Bind

——-

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.