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Bound and Suspended as His BDSM Sex Slave (Nicola Diaz)


Bound and Suspended as His BDSM Sex Slave by Nicola Diaz

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My name is Sophie and sometimes I question my decisions.

Strapped and secured.I have no where to go.

I swing back and forward naked in the suspension.

Awaiting the three knocks on the door.

Awaiting my master to take me.

Fully exposed and at his mercy, I take what I have asked for.

Even if I changed my mind, my hands and feet are roped up in mid-air, my body swinging in its unprotected state.

I hold my breath in anticipation.

Knock.....Knock.....Knock..................

Product type: EBook    Published by: author - self-published    Published: 02 / 2018

No. words: 7000

Style: Sex Slavery / Training, Bondage/BDSM Short Stories

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt

I hung from the suspension beam and took in the aroma of the candle that Monty had burning in the background. It was a morning like many of our others, and I swung back and forth, gently in my leather bondage clothes that he had picked out for me last week at the Gotham Kink Shop down behind the food store. I knew that Monty liked it when I wore my six inch red heels to work, so today I had them on, and hoped that he would be happy when he saw me.

I ran my hands over my big, round breasts and tried to think about how he would react when he saw me. I knew that since I was the first of his women to have such amazing curves that he always had positive reactions to my outfits. His house was dark and quiet, as usual, and a faint smell of incense came wafting through the bondage room. Monty liked to use his bedroom sometimes for our sexual adventures, but this room was special.

What first got my attention about this room was the large, brass knocked on the door outside. Monty usually knocked on it three times to signal his entrance, and he liked it when I responded with “Enter now, King.” He had installed suspension hooks several feet above a plush, velvet pillow. They were large, round hooks, that would have probably held a two ton ox if he had ever wanted to test it for durability. I used to think that it was sort of like strapping in for a solo airplane ride, where only I, as the pilot, could control what would happen next.


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This story has been self-published by the author


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