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Satan’s Sisters, Lesbian BDSM Vol II – ebook

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Satan’s Sisters, Vol 2, Lesbian BDSM by Paul Moore

When Sophie leaves town, Miko takes her broken heart on the road and finds trouble. She is only seeking a souvenir when she breaks into the isolated farmhouse, but the two old maids living there capture her and turn her into their sex slave. Constantly naked and bound, physically and sexually abused, in fear of her life, Miko knows that escape is her only hope for survival – and revenge. Meanwhile, Sophie has been hired as a Congresswoman’s personal dominatrix. Her job is to turn this powerful woman into a groveling slave for one evening each week, and Sophie loves her work. As their sessions evolve, Sophie plans a few surprises. Ms. Legislator doesn’t just get what she wants. She also gets what she needs.

Tales of women broken by humiliation, starvation and loneliness, they include the extremes of Fem/fem sexuality including douches, anal sex, candle wax, whips, golden showers, electric shock and leather and chain bondage. Artistically written, but not for the timid reader!

Artist Credit

Cover image Paul Moore

Publish Date

2002

Page Count

134

Word Count

39566

Excerpt

I didn’t see Dr. Cornell again until I was delivered to her bedroom that night. It was the same as the night before. I ate. Dr. Cornell enjoyed. I spent another night chained to the bed with my hands safe from mischief. My poor clit buzzed till morning, keeping me awake. Ordinarily, my vibrator gets a real workout at night, unless I have an available stud to satisfy my needs. Two nights without sex was making me hungry. That was just what Dr. Cornell wanted, of course.

 

At least I didn’t get my ass beat.

 

On Sunday, I was down on the library floor on my hands and knees, waxing the hardwood and keeping my legs apart the way Mrs. Kraft wanted me to. I thought that I was alone. Mrs. Kraft was in the kitchen.

 

When I heard a small sound behind me, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Dr. Cornell leaning against the door jamb and watching me work. She was dressed in a sweatsuit, like she was about to go jogging or something. She had a cup of coffee in one hand and some kind of wand in the other. She saw me looking and smiled.

 

“Don’t let me interrupt,” she said. “You’re doing fine.”

 

For two days I had been feeling like a real nothing. Now a little bit of praise had me pumping away on that rag like waxing the floor was a divine quest or something. I knew that my ass was twitching as I crawled around down there, and Dr. Cornell was enjoying every minute. I let my knees slide a little farther apart, just to tease her.

 

She was quiet for so long that I thought maybe she had gone, then I heard a sound that made me jump.

 

It was a kind of whickery sound, and I knew that Dr. Cornell had slashed the air with the stick in her hand. I wanted to look back, but I was afraid that I would see her flexing that wand in her fists and studying my ass.

 

She laughed. “Delicious, isn’t it? The fear I mean. I can see the muscles in your thighs tensing, the gooseflesh rising on your bottom. You know what this cane is for, don’t you?”

 

“I’ve done everything you asked me to,” I whined.

 

“Petulance is punishable,” she warned. Then she put the smile back in her voice. “You have performed better than I expected, actually. I’m not going to punish you.”

 

I started to relax, until she said: “I just want to give you a souvenir of this weekend.” I heard the cane slice at nothing again, a practice swing.

 

I had been waxing furiously, working off nervous energy. Now I froze.

 

Nothing—I waited. Then she took a step into the room, and I felt something slender, cold and hard, like a skeleton’s finger, sliding down my butt crease, searching. It opened my lips and went on, finding my clit.

 

I hadn’t had any in two days. I had been kept naked and tied up a lot, which turned me on more than I would have expected. I had been giving a lot of head, teased, and sent away.

 

Okay—I’m a slut. I rocked back to meet it. I humped that rod like it was her hand.

 

I was just getting into it when she took the cane away. I saw it in front of my face.

 

“You’ve soiled it,” she whispered. “Clean it off.”

 

I knew she didn’t want me to wipe it with my rag. I opened my mouth and the cane slid slowly between my lips.

 

“Just a taste,” she said. “So that you will know.”

 

I thought for a minute that she was talking about the juice that was all over the cane, my juice. Then I realized that she was telling me that she wasn’t going to beat me very hard—this time.

 

“Don’t move.”

 

Easy for her to say. I took the rag in both hands. It was something to hold on to. I let my head hang.

 

The first stroke put me into like shock. It was awesome. The pain grew for awhile after. She let me feel it for a few seconds, hissing through my teeth. I jerked, just a little, then got back into position.

 

“Raise up a little. Offer it to me.”

 

I did it, wondering how many more there would be.

 

She gave me ten. A few minutes, that’s all it took. How long is a few minutes sitting on a hot stove? I was blubbering, screaming, I didn’t care. It was like being cut with a hot knife.

 

Then I felt her hands on my shoulders, turning me. I went limp and flopped over on my back, gasping as my ass touched the floor.

 

Dr. Cornell didn’t waste her breath on apologies or sympathy. Words would have spoiled it. She just pushed my legs apart and dove in. Before I knew what she had in mind, she yawned like a movie vampire and champed down on my pussy.

 

I never felt any teeth though. She just sucked me like a ripe peach while her tongue flicked over the best spots. My first impulse was to grab her head with both hands and ride it, but I wasn’t about to step out of line by touching her without permission. I couldn’t forget that she was in control.

 

Maybe that’s why I came big time.

 

I could like feel the arteries in my neck swelling. I clawed the hardwood. I made weird animal noises.

 

When I was down to just panting and vibrating, Dr. Cornell gave me a peck on the cheek and whispered in my ear.

 

“Next weekend you will be fucked up the ass.”

 

An hour later, when Mrs. Kraft came in with my clothes and cab fare, I was still sprawled on the floor like somebody who fell from a high place.

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