Lesbian Bondage/BDSM
Fem Dom - F/F Spanking and Bondage
Published
09 / 2005
AVAILABLE FORMATS: PALM (PDB) Mobi (PRC) MSWord (DOC) PDF MSReader (LIT) Text RTF
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SYNOPSIS
Arika Lee writes lesbian dominance with unsurpassed sensual eroticism! “The Bridge Club” takes the reader to a world where bored, rich women can afford to indulge their darkest appetites. They lure ambitious young women into their web of decadence with promises of wealth and success.
Also available in a new German language edition as "DER BRIDGE KLUB"
When the cards were finally drawn, J found herself presenting her lead to Sophie. She had no doubt that this had somehow been arranged by Emily. Her brief earlier encounter with the woman had been embarrassing but she doubted that Sophie was innately mean of spirit.
J’s inner sigh of relief was premature. The woman removed one of her shoes and demanded that J present her ass to her. The shoe had a five inch stiletto heel. Sophie calmly took a cruet of olive oil from the table and drizzled it over J’s ass and demanded that she use her finger to work it in.
As J grudgingly reached back to comply she was certain that every eye in the room was witnessing her shame. In reality many in the room were already engaged in their own pleasures, but J, with her head down and ass raised was certain her humiliation was being spotlighted.
“Enough oil.”
No sooner did J withdraw her finger than she felt the heel of the shoe inserted into her ass. The second shoe was then thrust into her mouth.
“Heel, bitch, and if you drop either shoe you will be very sorry.”
Sophie gave her lead a snap and began slowly padding barefoot across the room, chatting to various ladies on her way out. Mortified, J crawled behind with teeth and ass clenched. So much for expecting any consideration from Sophie, she thought bitterly.
EXTRACT
“Ladies! Your attention please!”
Emily, as Mistress of ceremonies had risen. Immediately conversation in the room died
away and was replaced by an almost tangible air of anticipation.
“Once again we come to our favorite part of the evening. The dealing of the cards….after
all this is a card club.”
A titter of general amusement rippled through her audience. At a gesture from Emily the
slave V began working her way around the tables offering a deck of cards. As each lady
drew her card she held it up displaying a single letter.
Across the room were gathered the slaves with attached leads in their mouths. As each saw
her letter raised, she detached herself from the group, lowered herself to all fours, and
crawled to kneel at that lady`s feet. In this position her lead was offered to the lady
who would be her sole Mistress for the remainder of the night.
When all the cards had been drawn only one lady was left with no girl attending her. An
obese, middle aged woman, far plainer than the Armani she was wearing, was holding the
letter J aloft and smiling hugely.
“Well, it looks as though Mistress Mildred has drawn the honor of breaking in our novice.
You may take the throne, Mildred. Will the rest of you ladies please take your places for
the initiation.”
All of this had been plainly audible to J in her black isolation. In spite of all the
mental preparation she had strived to pull around herself every nerve grew taut at the
realization that her time was at hand.
J heard a scraping of chairs and a shuffle of momentary movement and then her darkness
was joined by a creeping stillness that raised gooseflesh on her crouched, sweating body
and sent a shiver through her.
“It`s just a game.” She began to whisper repeatedly. “All a game. Just a game.”
This mantra was swept from her head as the cage`s drape was yanked away, leaving her
exposed and cringing. Instantly her ears were filled with a cacophony of catcalls and
whistles. The sudden flood of light had blinded her but through slitted eyes she saw
before her a long, red carpet runner. Lined up on either side of this were the ladies of
the bridge club. Their leering faces had a nightmare quality. Painted lips and wild eyes
jeered and sneered at her. Their taunts battered her like heavy hail.
“Whore!”
“Slut!”
“Cunt!”
“Start the bitch! START HER!”
The door to the cage was swung open and J stared down through the gauntlet of screaming,
crop waving women. It was no game before her. It was a scene straight from hell.
Also available by Arika Lee - A TAste of Tears - Camille`s Captive - Ballerina in Bondage
- Love Bites
