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The Capture of Archer Cordell – ebook

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The Capture of Archer Cordell by Robin Wilde

Femdom Erotica. In the 21st century, slavery, both voluntary and involuntary, has become legal. Needing money, sexy Sabrina Swann sells herself into indentured sexual servitude and is purchased by a millionaire, jet-setting businessman Archer Cordell, who dominates her ruthlessly. Countess Esmerelda is a Female Dominant who is equally ruthless in business. Now she plans to take control of Archer. During a business trip to her estate, Archer and Sabrina are drugged and become trapped in the Countess’ cunning web. Taken to her elaborate dungeon, the helpless Archer submits to bondage, sex machines and brutal tickling, facing submissive desires he never knew he had. Sabrina, meanwhile, must act in order to save her boss-owner from the powerful Countess. Can she save him in time, and if so, what happens to Sabrina’s relationship with Archer. Who’s on top? And who submits?

Artist Credit

Cover Image Mayer George – Shutterstock.com

Publish Date

9/22/2017

Page Count

196

Word Count

55630

Excerpt

College provided a world of new temptations and she sampled some of them, privately, somewhat gingerly, finding the emotions and passions they unleashed to be somewhat overpowering. She pledged a good sorority, and her initiation was to be a party slave. They dressed her in scanty clothes and she served cocktails at a party. The guys felt her up and teased her and it was embarrassing and humiliating for her, though she played along like a good sport. But what was most humiliating was the powerful erotic charge she got when her sorority sisters cuffed her ankles and her wrists, and she really felt like a slave.

Then came the paddling line and she had never been spanked before, and the paddle-wielding sorority sisters were strong and cruel and she found herself reduced quickly to tears, but at the same time she felt wet, humiliatingly so because she had never had a sexual attraction to women and now she was so aroused she was nearly ready to do anything.

They blindfolded her and tied her hands together over her head and slipped the rope over a hook in the ceiling, then when she felt utterly helpless and vulnerable someone dropped an ice cube down the back of her short dress and the sensation was so surprising and so maddening that she screamed and wriggled trying to shake the ice cube out. When she heard male laughter she realized there was a voyeur audience watching her, and with another ice cube she found herself putting on a stripper’s dance for an unknown audience. Her nipples were so stiff they hurt; her thighs clenched together and sent pulses of pleasure through her pussy —with a shock, she realized she was secretly masturbating in front of an audience! And all the helplessness and all the teasing and all the humiliation finally triggered a powerful and secret orgasm; she moaned and twisted and hoped she convinced everyone it was only the ice cubes that made her dance and twist so erotically.

That Saturday night she made her boyfriend get them a motel room and brought her little slave costume with her and she couldn’t believe how hot she got, how submissive she felt as she knelt in front of him to suck his cock. She wanted him to really use her, to treat her as his slave for the evening, but he didn’t quite understand, couldn’t quite cope with her level of arousal and need, and it was basically unsatisfying for her. She never shared that sort of feeling with him again.

In her sophomore year, a few of her sorority sisters banded together to buy a fraternity initiate as a weekend slave. She watched the auction, mouth dry with increasing passion as the boys were paraded out one at a time, wearing mere loincloths and the shackles of slave status. More than one had bulged out the loincloth with growing passion and arousal; it was as sexy for them as for her. She was too embarrassed to bid, but her sisters did and she gladly paid her share and they took a young victim from the stage, giggling and blushing with their own aroused embarrassment. Sabrina brushed her hand lightly over his loincloth, not quite believing her own action, and started with surprise as his cock gave a sudden lurch.

The girls paraded their acquisition through the dormitory, letting the other girls toy with their new pet, showing off their new possession. It was so much fun to tease, and the combination of blushing boy-toy and stiff erection was too much to resist. Giggling and clustering around, they mocked his helpless lust in cooing expressions of fake pity, commented on his equipment, and probed his helpless, shackled body with teasing fingers until he squirmed in near-ticklish agony. And then —to his utter horror and the girls’ delight —he let out the first stifled snort of restrained ticklish laughter, which prompted the girls to observe, “Are you ticklish, little slave boy?”

With the approval of the owners, the sorority girls dragged their tickle-victim into the TV room and pushed him to the floor to begin their attack. He screamed with terrified laughter as the kneeling girls attacked with wiggling fingers. “Cootchie-cootchie-koo,” one girl laughed, her red-painted fingernails digging into his sides. It took two girls to sit on his convulsing legs, holding his body down in spite of his desperate struggles. One girl took each helpless naked foot and began running fingers over the exposed sole, bringing new shrieks of ticklish laughter from their prisoner. Underarms and belly became the property of still more sorority girls until he was awash in pretty girl-flesh, buried in a sea of tickling fingers and girlish perfume.

Sabrina noticed that his cock, which had slipped out from under the loincloth, was hard and purple and glistening with the first drops of his desperate need. Although she was reluctant to join in the tickle-orgy, she was fascinated by her slaveboy’s screams of laughing agony and found herself growing wetter by the moment.

By the time his laughter had turned into breathless wheezes, the sorority sisters were finally ready to show at least a little mercy, and the purchasers were ready to drag their slave into their own room for more personal service. Sabrina enjoyed the sense of envy as she helped lead the slaveboy away.

She was a good girl, though she hadn’t been one hundred percent faithful to her boyfriend in the post-AIDS sexual re-liberation period. Nor, she suspected (but didn’t ask), had he been completely faithful to her. But she didn’t screw around. Now she was part owner of a nearly-naked slaveboy for a weekend, and she didn’t quite know what to do. Buying him was mostly a lark, but she felt an amazing level of arousal. She stood back at first, letting her two girlfriends have first crack at the slave.

They tied him spreadeagled to the bars of the brass bed with scarves, removed his loincloth, and one perched on each side beside him. They began to stroke him sensually, but his body had been so hypersensitized by the insane tickling that even their gentle touches reduced him to giggles. That induced them to tickle him again until he was nearly ready to wet himself, and that made them stop.

Sabrina was embarrassed to get undressed and have sex in front of her roommates, but no such inhibitions slowed them down. The two girls slithered out of their jeans and shirts and panties, smiling down at their victim as he stared at them with his towering need. He begged, “Please…don’t tease me any more. I’ll do anything.”

“Of course you will,” they cooed, and returned to teasing, kissing him, stroking him, toying with his leaking erection until he was shaking with desire. And then one girl straddled his face to urge his tongue to worship her wetness while the other began to nibble and tease at his penis, licking off the drops of fluid as they appeared one by one.

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