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Anya's Acceptance (Crimson Rose)


Anya

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Leaving Aphrodite’s Den, Anya takes a trip to the Domination Farm to have a talk with Zenzele and Larissa about everything that has happened in their lives since meeting Master James MacKenzie, and to discuss where their lives went from there, but a chance run-in with a sexy submissive changes everything and answers the one question that has been plaguing her since it all began.

Product type: EBook    Published by: author - self-published    Published: 12 / 2017

We do not recommend this book for readers under 18 years of age

No. words: 16684

Style: BDSM/Bondage - Content: Strong - Classed as: Consensual -    Sex Slavery / Training, Bondage/BDSM Fetishes

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

Click Here For All Books In This Series

Current all-time sales ranking: #6956


Excerpt..

“Uugghhh…I can’t do this another three weeks,” Anya groaned as she got out of bed. “Why in the hell I even entered this place is beyond me.”
You’re here because like your daughters you’re a slave at heart, James’ voice answered back. Where do you think they got it from if not their submissive slut of a mother?
“I am not a submissive slut!”
And yet here you are at the one place in the world that proves otherwise. You didn’t have to come here. You could have gone to the store, picked up a new charger and called your daughter. You could have paid for a day, went to the office and asked them to place the call and yet you paid to stay three weeks. Admit it, you’re a slave and you have me to thank for bringing those repressed feelings to the surface.
“I do not have repressed feelings and I am not a god damn slave!”
The body modifications say otherwise. Owned. Public urinal. Slave. You even have a submissive name that fits in perfectly with the place you are at. All you need now is a collar around your neck and someone to register you. Or better yet, make it a blue one. Enter the registration office on your own and let the Farm claim you.
“Fuck off!”
Washing her hands, Anya stormed out of the small apartment – ignoring any further attempt by the voice in her head to convince her she was a sex slave. Leaving the building, she stopped off at The Dive for a quick bite to eat. Sitting at a small table next to a window, she stared out and watched a full-figured woman sit down on one of the many dildo seats located around the Farm – the two long, tapered toys easily sliding into her pussy and asshole. Eyes drifting up, she looked at a sign depicting a kneeling woman with HOUSE OF DISCIPLINE written around the outer edge. Turning back to her plate, she took a bite of eggs and washed it down with a mouthful of freshly squeezed breast milk.
“What am I doing here?” Anya sighed.
“Excuse me, Ma’am?” a Farm submissive named KittyClit asked.
“Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking aloud.”
“No problem. But if I may, those coming here do so for what boils down to three reasons. One, they are dominants looking for submissives and slaves. Two, they are submissives and slaves looking for a Dominant. And three, they are curious about the lifestyle and want to learn more about it in a more hands-on environment. What you need to ask yourself is which of the latter two you are.”
“And what makes you think I’m not a Dominant?”
“Where would you like me to start, Ma’am? First and most obvious are the brands, tattoos and piercings you have. While that isn’t concrete proof you are at minimum submissive it’s a pretty good indicator. Then there’s the lack of a red band around your arm. No woman who’s dominant would ever enter the Farm without one. Only you can ultimately decide what your position here is, but what I can say is no one will ever judge you no matter what you’re into,” KittyClit said with a nod at the fresh brand on Anya’s left hip.


Excerpt..

“Uugghhh…I can’t do this another three weeks,” Anya groaned as she got out of bed. “Why in the hell I even entered this place is beyond
me.”

You’re here because like your daughters you’re a slave at heart, James’ voice answered back. Where do you think they got it from if not
their submissive slut of a mother?

“I am not a submissive slut!”

And yet here you are at the one place in the world that proves otherwise. You didn’t have to come here. You could have gone to the store,
picked up a new charger and called your daughter. You could have paid for a day, went to the office and asked them to place the call and yet
you paid to stay three weeks. Admit it, you’re a slave and you have me to thank for bringing those repressed feelings to the surface.

“I do not have repressed feelings and I am not a god damn slave!”

The body modifications say otherwise. Owned. Public urinal. Slave. You even have a submissive name that fits in perfectly with the place you
are at. All you need now is a collar around your neck and someone to register you. Or better yet, make it a blue one. Enter the registration
office on your own and let the Farm claim you.

“Fuck off!”

Washing her hands, Anya stormed out of the small apartment – ignoring any further attempt by the voice in her head to convince her she was a
sex slave. Leaving the building, she stopped off at The Dive for a quick bite to eat. Sitting at a small table next to a window, she stared
out and watched a full-figured woman sit down on one of the many dildo seats located around the Farm – the two long, tapered toys easily
sliding into her pussy and asshole. Eyes drifting up, she looked at a sign depicting a kneeling woman with HOUSE OF DISCIPLINE written
around the outer edge. Turning back to her plate, she took a bite of eggs and washed it down with a mouthful of freshly squeezed breast
milk.

“What am I doing here?” Anya sighed.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” a Farm submissive named KittyClit asked.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking aloud.”

“No problem. But if I may, those coming here do so for what boils down to three reasons. One, they are dominants looking for submissives and
slaves. Two, they are submissives and slaves looking for a Dominant. And three, they are curious about the lifestyle and want to learn more
about it in a more hands-on environment. What you need to ask yourself is which of the latter two you are.”

“And what makes you think I’m not a Dominant?”

“Where would you like me to start, Ma’am? First and most obvious are the brands, tattoos and piercings you have. While that isn’t concrete
proof you are at minimum submissive it’s a pretty good indicator. Then there’s the lack of a red band around your arm. No woman who’s
dominant would ever enter the Farm without one. Only you can ultimately decide what your position here is, but what I can say is no one will
ever judge you no matter what you’re into,” KittyClit said with a nod at the fresh brand on Anya’s left hip.


Excerpt..

“Uugghhh…I can’t do this another three weeks,” Anya groaned as she got out of bed. “Why in the hell I even entered this place is beyond

me.”


You’re here because like your daughters you’re a slave at heart, James’ voice answered back. Where do you think they got it from if not

their submissive slut of a mother?


“I am not a submissive slut!”


And yet here you are at the one place in the world that proves otherwise. You didn’t have to come here. You could have gone to the store,

picked up a new charger and called your daughter. You could have paid for a day, went to the office and asked them to place the call and yet

you paid to stay three weeks. Admit it, you’re a slave and you have me to thank for bringing those repressed feelings to the surface.


“I do not have repressed feelings and I am not a god damn slave!”


The body modifications say otherwise. Owned. Public urinal. Slave. You even have a submissive name that fits in perfectly with the place you

are at. All you need now is a collar around your neck and someone to register you. Or better yet, make it a blue one. Enter the registration

office on your own and let the Farm claim you.


“Fuck off!”


Washing her hands, Anya stormed out of the small apartment – ignoring any further attempt by the voice in her head to convince her she was a

sex slave. Leaving the building, she stopped off at The Dive for a quick bite to eat. Sitting at a small table next to a window, she stared

out and watched a full-figured woman sit down on one of the many dildo seats located around the Farm – the two long, tapered toys easily

sliding into her pussy and asshole. Eyes drifting up, she looked at a sign depicting a kneeling woman with HOUSE OF DISCIPLINE written

around the outer edge. Turning back to her plate, she took a bite of eggs and washed it down with a mouthful of freshly squeezed breast

milk.


“What am I doing here?” Anya sighed.


“Excuse me, Ma’am?” a Farm submissive named KittyClit asked.


“Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking aloud.”


“No problem. But if I may, those coming here do so for what boils down to three reasons. One, they are dominants looking for submissives and

slaves. Two, they are submissives and slaves looking for a Dominant. And three, they are curious about the lifestyle and want to learn more

about it in a more hands-on environment. What you need to ask yourself is which of the latter two you are.”


“And what makes you think I’m not a Dominant?”


“Where would you like me to start, Ma’am? First and most obvious are the brands, tattoos and piercings you have. While that isn’t concrete

proof you are at minimum submissive it’s a pretty good indicator. Then there’s the lack of a red band around your arm. No woman who’s

dominant would ever enter the Farm without one. Only you can ultimately decide what your position here is, but what I can say is no one will

ever judge you no matter what you’re into,” KittyClit said with a nod at the fresh brand on Anya’s left hip.


Keywords - click on word to search for more titles

bdsm  slave training  domination  submission  humiliation  discipline  caning  fisting  gang bang  
lesbian sex  

Best Selling Books This Year By Crimson Rose

Anya

Anya

Anya

Anya

Anya

Best Selling Books This Year By Crimson Rose

Anya

Anya

Anya

Anya

Anya

Author Information

Crimson Rose is an erotica writer dedicated to the principle that erotic fiction can be red-hot raunchy while also being written with intelligence, elegance and style.

When asked about the subject matter of her stories she had this to say:

"I sometimes deal with strange and taboo subject matter, but my stories are never dark and my characters are never victims (though some of them may pretend otherwise). My characters always enjoy and exult in their sexuality, engaging in their various unusual and illicit acts with unapologetic joy and a zest for life."

 

Website:
http://www.crimsonroseerotica.com

Contact Crimson Rose


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 Authors Suite

 Publishers Suite   

Affiliate Program

Contact Us

Terms and Conditions

Protection Policy

Privacy Policy

Refund Policy

This Site Owned By Fiction4Adults - Copyright Ó 2015