#BDSM – Nomad Authors Blog

New! Damned If You Do: A BDSM Dance with the Devil by Lisabet Sarai

Paranormal BDSM erotic romance (Five flames)

Approximately 29,000 words

HEA ending

Blurb:
Wendy Dennison is tired of being a starving author. The royalties from her critically acclaimed romance novels barely pay her bills. Her devoted agent Daniel Rochester may be smart and sexy, but he can’t get her the sales she needs. Then a charismatic stranger appears at her coffee shop table, promising her fame and commercial success, as well as the chance to live out her dreams of erotic submission. But at what cost?

Nothing you can’t afford to lose, my dear.

Seduced by the enigmatic Mister B, she signs his infernal contract. He becomes both her Master and her coach, managing her suddenly flourishing career as well as encouraging her lusts. Under her mentor’s nefarious influence, she surrenders to temptation and has sex with Daniel. The casual encounter turns serious when she discovers her mild mannered agent has a dominant side. As the clock ticks down to her blockbuster release and Mister B prepares to claim her soul, Wendy must choose either celebrity and wealth, or obscurity and true love.

Buy Links (Ebook)

Kinky Literature: https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/713-damned-if-you-do/

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09PSN7XGX

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09PSN7XGX

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/damned-if-you-do-lisabet-sarai/1126292735?ean=2940165738319

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1124531

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/damned-if-you-do-12

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35009284-damned-if-you-do

Buy Links (Audio)

Narrated by Audrey Lusk

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Damned-If-You-Do/dp/B078NC1MGN/

Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Erotica-Sexuality/Damned-If-You-Do-Audiobook/B078NC27YX/

The Lure of Surrender

In my new release Damned If You Do, my heroine Wendy Dennison signs a diabolical contract, exchanging her soul for commercial success as an erotic romance author. She only agrees to this bargain, however, after the mysterious Mister B explains that she must also accept him as her sexual Master.

Wendy has dreamed of erotic submission all her adult life. Her books celebrate the ecstatic connection between Dom and sub. However, aside from a brief, soul-searing relationship in her youth, she has no real BDSM experience. When Mister B offers her the chance to live out her most cherished fantasies, she can’t refuse. His promise of best seller status is not enough to sway her, but the lure of surrender is too powerful to ignore.

Excerpt 4: PG-rated (but the book is explicit)

The limo deposited her in front of her little house and floated away. A bit weary from the lengthy ordeal at the salon, Wendy almost tripped over the figure sitting on her front steps.

“Dan! What are you doing here?”

Her agent looked rumpled and haggard. He didn’t even bother to stand, though his eyes were hungry as he surveyed her.

“You don’t answer my calls. You ignore my emails. I figured the only way I could get through to you was to show up at your door.”

“Emails? I haven’t heard from you in months! I figured you were mad at me…”

“Every day, Wendy. I’ve sent you a message every single day. I’ve called again and again. That damned personal assistant of yours answers every time.” He rose to his feet finally, looking around with a scowl. “Where is the bastard, anyway?”

“I—um—I’m not sure. I think he’s doing some errands.” She rummaged in her bag for her key. “Come inside. We’ll talk.”

“No. You come with me.” He grabbed her sleeve, pulling her down the walkway toward a gray Taurus with a Steelers Rent-a-Car decal parked across the street. “You’ve got to get away from that guy. He’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What are you talking about? He’s been great for my career.”

Dan grabbed her shoulders and shook her, hard. “Wake up, Wendy! He’s got you under some kind of spell. You’ve become a totally different person.”

She tore herself free. “Yeah, I have. Instead of being a loser, I’m finally a successful author.”

“You’ve cut yourself off from everyone. I got an email from Jenna the other day. You do remember Jenna, right? Your old friend Jenna Martin? She was worried. Said she hadn’t been able to get in touch for weeks.”

Jenna. How odd. Wendy hadn’t even thought about her, not since that afternoon in the coffee shop when her crit partner sent the link about Sapphire Sands. The afternoon Mister B had come into her life. In the old days, they communicated nearly every day.

“I’ve been busy. Busy writing.”

“Is that all you’ve been doing? That slimy character Bent loves to suggest you two have been involved in other activities…”

She tried to take his arm. He shook her off. “Please, Dan, calm down. I’m fine. I’ve finally found my writing groove. Everything is going great.” She flashed him what she hoped was a charming smile. “I’m going to be on the Breakfast in America show later this week.”

“I wondered why you were all gussied up.” His bitter tone made her wince.

“You should be happy for me. After all, I’m making plenty of money for you, too!”

“Forget about money for once. What about feelings?” He grabbed her with both hands, pulled her close and held her tight against his body.

About Lisabet:

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (https://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Bookbub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list and get a free ebook, plus exclusive contents and other benefits: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

New! Steampunk, BDSM, Shifter: Rajasthani Moon by Lisabet Sarai

Neither kink nor curse can stop a woman on a mission.

Blurb:
A bandit prince cursed into beast form under the full moon.

A brilliant but sadistic Rajah whose robotic sex toys mingle torture and delight.

A voluptuous spy on a mission from Her Majesty, tasked with discovering Rajasthan’s secrets.

She has never faced such a challenge.

When Rajasthan refuses to remit its taxes, the Queen calls on her most lethal and seductive secret agent, Cecily Harrowsmith. Cecily expects to have little difficulty persuading the rebellious Rajah to submit once more to the Empire. Instead, she is the one forced to submit – to endure unprecedented extremes of pleasure and pain.

Kidnapped by the ruler’s half-brother Pratan and delivered into the hands of the handsome but depraved Rajah Amir, she soon finds herself fighting against her own lascivious nature as much as the schemes of her captors. Her sympathy for the moon-cursed wolf-man Pratan only complicates her situation. Cecily has never failed to complete an assignment, but now she risks betrayal by both her body and her heart.

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been re-edited, revised and updated for this release.

Buy links:
Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/363-rajasthani-moon-steampunk-shifter-bdsm-romance/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09DBMLQQG

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09DBMLQQG

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1100493

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rajasthani-moon-lisabet-sarai/1140045684?ean=2940165000041

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/rajasthani-moon-steampunk-shifter-bdsm-romance

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58835067-rajasthani-moon

Online Excerpt:
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2021/08/celebrating-my-new-release-steampunk.html

Is Rajasthani Moon erotic romance?
It would have been much faster to fly.

Alas, Cecily Harrowsmith—special agent for Her Majesty the Queen, expert in the martial arts of three continents, past mistress of princes, potentates and the occasional prime minister—was afraid of flying. She despised herself for this weakness, but not enough to board one of the Empire’s sleek, viridium-powered airships, strap herself into her seat and hope for the best.

Thus begins my most recent release, Rajasthani Moon, a book that deliberately defies categorization. It contains elements of the steam punk and paranormal sub-genres, plus quite a lot of moderately extreme BDSM and a M/F/M ménage. It features a kick-ass Rubenesque heroine, a billionaire Rajah and a sexy, deliciously disreputable bandit. It flirts with non-consensual fantasies and lesbian attraction. It has some funny moments, not infrequently associated with sex. Oh, and it’s a romance, with what I hope is a sublimely satisfying happy ending (although I won’t tell you who ends up with whom!)

Writing this book involved taking risks. I’ve observed how readers cling to their favorite genres. I’m breaking rules right and left with this novel. Will the market embrace my mash-up? Or will readers run away in droves, terrified of the unfamiliar?

Producing the same sort of stories, again and again, can be comfortable. It may help sales, too. To grow as authors, though, we have to leave safety behind. We must step out onto that high pinnacle of creativity and let go, defying the fear that we’ll plummet ignominiously to the ground. We have to get over our fear of flying.

Snippet:
“Wait a minute. ‘Cecily’, you said? Something’s tickling the back of my brain… Let me examine the Universal Electropaedia…” In the ensuing pause, Pratan glanced over his shoulder towards the bed. She assumed a demeanour of indifference. “Ah, yes…Dark complexion, you say, and blue eyes?”

“Correct.”

“Between twenty-five and thirty years of age? About eleven stone?”

“Ten stone four pounds!” Cecily interjected before she could help herself.

“Yes, and tall too, for a woman. And from the way she’s straining against the ropes, I’d say she understands every word we’re saying!”

Her spirits sank. Did the Electropaedia actually include an entry for her? Why hadn’t the Empire’s censors excised it? This unforgivable breach of security might well have sealed her fate, though she wasn’t about to give up yet.

“Brother, I believe that you’ve succeeded in capturing one of Queen Victoria’s most notorious agents—Miss Cecily Harrowsmith. According to reports, she is brave, brilliant, beautiful, and as dangerous as a king cobra.”

Pratan rubbed his bruised shin where she’d kicked him and grinned at her with genuine menace. “That sounds like her.”

Excerpt:
It would have been much faster to fly.

Hence the current tedious journey. Cecily peered out of the window of her carriage at the endless expanse of russet-coloured desert stretching in all directions. The mere sight of all that sand was enough to make her throat burn. She sipped her tepid tea, wondering for the twentieth time why she’d accepted this bloody assignment.

For England, of course, and the good of the Empire. Her Majesty could scarcely afford to have her vassal states simply refuse to pay their taxes. When the Rajah of Jaipur had expelled Her Majesty’s tax collectors and declared his kingdom independent, the Queen had imposed a viridium embargo. No society these days could function without the energy-rich mineral. At least this was the theory. Yet the Rajah and his half-brother had held out for the past three years, despite being completely cut off from the Empire’s supply lines.

Cecily’s job was to discover how the isolated principality had managed to survive. She’d also been instructed to convince the errant rulers to return to the bosom of the Empire, if at all possible. If persuasion failed, she was authorised to use force. However, she doubted this would be necessary. Persuasion was after all her forte.

Once more she extracted the portraits of the twin rulers of Rajasthan from her portmanteau to study their countenances. Both had skin the colour of nicely browned toast. Amir, the official Rajah, was clean-shaven, with deep-set eyes, a prominent nose and lips as full as a girl’s. He wore his hair in European style but the rainbow-hued turban perched on his head as well as the loops piercing his well-shaped ears were more than enough to dispel any notion that he’d been anglicised. Pratan looked far less civilised, with tangled black locks reaching to his shoulders and a drooping moustache that gave him a permanent sneer. He shared his brother’s regal nose but his features were more angular, less finished-looking than his aristocratic sibling’s. Both men were strikingly handsome, each in his own way. The paintings provided little information about their figures, but, given the stark, unforgiving nature of their country, Cecily thought it unlikely that they’d be stout. With luck, their bodies would have the same masculine appeal as their faces.

With a sigh, she tucked the images away and settled back against the cushions. Cecily was a woman of action. The two-day journey from Bombay had sorely tried her patience. Miserable roads—cart tracks, really—had limited the speed of her private motorised carriage. She could have travelled many times faster on Britain’s macadam highways.

Nevertheless, she’d been glad to escape the superficial, conservative society of London—the falseness and the gossip, back-stabbing and double-dealing. Not to mention the dank weather and the horribly uncomfortable clothing. She knew that a tightly-laced corset accentuated her ample curves, but she far preferred native dress, especially in this kind of heat. She shook out the voluminous skirt of her chaniya choli, admiring the little mirrors sewn into the blue and orange print. The Rajasthani women wore nothing underneath and she followed suit. It was far more practical when one had to answer the call of nature out here in the middle of nowhere.

The quilted fabric brushed against her unprotected pubis, engendering a pleasant tickling sensation. Now there was an idea for passing the time… When she glanced outside again, she noted that the sun was lower. The land had become rougher and greener as they approached the foothills of the Aravalli range. Jaipur was located on the other side of the mountains.

She tapped one of the buttons on the polished wood control panel to her right in order to signal the driver. “How much longer before we arrive?” she asked in fluent Hindi.

“At least three hours, ma’am,” came the disembodied voice. “Not until after dark, I should think.”

After dark. That wasn’t good at all. Bandits tended to flourish in this sort of wild landscape. “Well, do your best to get us there as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Three hours. She checked the dagger strapped to her upper arm, well-hidden under her sleeve. When she made a fist, the knife shot into her hand, ready for use. Her Majesty’s engineers truly had no equal. There was a miniature pistol tucked into her waist as well, a marvel of workmanship no less deadly for its tiny size. These weapons would have to do. If brigands struck, she’d have no time to access the cache of armaments hidden under the clothing in her trunk.

Snippet:
“Stop there, Miss Harrowsmith. I doubt I should trust you to approach me more closely.” The voice was deep and mellow, with a lazy, smoky quality that reminded her of full moons and autumn bonfires. The man’s English was practically perfect. His lilting accent only added to the charm of his utterance.

She found herself almost eager to obey orders delivered in such a lush voice.

“Kneel up. Let me look at you.”

Cecily tried to keep her gaze averted as she complied, though she was desperately tempted to see if the ruler was as handsome in the flesh as in his portrait.

His chuckle sent a shimmer through her, something like shame but hotter and sweeter. “Very nice indeed. If all of Queen Victoria’s minions were as delectable, we might be more willing to return to her fold.”

About Lisabet:
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

A new polyamorous romance from Lisabet Sarai! Sharing Leah

Sharing Leah: A Polyamorous Romance

How can she choose between her husband and her master?

Some women might think Leah’s existence heavenly – shared by two sexy men who both adore her. Ten years married to lusty, artistic Daniel, she still finds ecstatic release in surrendering to her master Greg.

But Daniel’s and Greg’s jealousy and possessiveness have made Leah’s life a hell. They bring out the worst in each other. And in some sense, it’s all her fault. If she loved only one of them, if she made a choice, that would be that. In theory, at least.

Unable to bear the continuous conflict, she escapes to the beautiful Maine coast to ponder her future. Gradually she realizes that she cannot live without either of her lovers. But if the two men can’t settle their differences, how can she bear to live with them?

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound with the title Truce of Trust. It has been revised, expanded and re-edited for this release.

Buy Links
Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/42-sharing-leah-a-polyamorous-romance/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B094XPD83D

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B094XPD83D

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1084055

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sharing-leah-lisabet-sarai/1139457298?ean=2940164905293

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/sharing-leah-a-polyamorous-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58040241-sharing-leah

Online Excerpt
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2021/05/they-bring-out-worst-in-each-other.html

Introduction:
Soul Mates. Plural.

I’ve always been susceptible to the myth of the one true soul mate. How seductive it is to think that your perfect partner exists somewhere out in the world, the one person with whom you can connect on every level— physical, mental and spiritual. All you need to do is find him (or her). I understand the sweet ache for that unique individual who complements, completes and fulfills you.

I’ve found my soul mate. Several times.

In reality, I believe I’m constitutionally non-monogamous. I have no difficulty whatsoever being deeply in love with more than one person simultaneously. During one period in my life, I had ongoing serious relationships with three men. By serious, I mean that the connection went well beyond recreational sex. I was sincere when I told each of them that I loved him. Somehow I’d managed the trick of concentrating on the lover who was present, dismissing the others from my mind.

What happens, though, when two of your soul mates collide?

I’ve written many times about my Master, the man who initiated me into BDSM and profoundly changed my view of myself and the world. I loved—indeed still love—him dearly. His insights, his rough tenderness, his generosity, the way we influenced one another in the astral or non-corporal realm, all combined to make me feel he was the One.

However, our relationship was never easy. We broke up at least partly due to misunderstandings about what each of us wanted. At the same time, the bonds between us remained strong.

Meanwhile, I met and married my husband, a man with whom everything was easy. Our life together began with a three week cross-country road trip, from the East Coast to the West. Travel can put serious strains on a relationship, especially when you don’t know someone well. In our case, it was a dream voyage, a fantastic adventure. We were so comfortable with one another, it seemed we’d been together forever instead of a few days.

Obviously he was my soul mate.

Time and life choices put significant distance between me and my Master. We didn’t see each other for years at a time, though we communicated by mail, email and the occasional phone call. When my path took me to his area, though, I always tried to arrange a meeting. A brief few hours—lunch, a walk in the park, maybe a bit of hanky panky—simultaneously frustrating and thrilling—then I’d return to my husband, grateful for his steady love and easy-going personality, as well as his tolerance of my attachment to my old lover.

On one such visit, though, I had the idea of introducing them. In fact, we arranged to have dinner together—my Master (“G”), my husband and me. I thought the two men would trust each other more if they’d met. After all, they both loved me, and I felt the same about them. Furthermore, they had other things in common, besides me: high intelligence, interest in things technical, liberal political views.

I was so, so wrong.

That dinner may have been the most awkward night of my life. No one threw a tantrum, but the men were barely civil to one another. Despite my desire to reassure them, to let each of them know how much I loved him, each saw a rival in the other. Afterward, my husband claimed that G. had explicitly threatened to steal me away from him. (I certainly didn’t hear him say anything like this.) Meanwhile, G. mocked my husband, telling me that he was too vanilla to ever satisfy me.

Every time I remember that meeting, I cringe. I may have done more harm than good, giving each of them a concrete target for their jealousy and insecurity. I’d thought we’d all be more comfortable, getting things out in the open. I even fantasized about making love to both of them at the same time.

Not bloody likely, as it turned out. After that fateful dinner, it became even more difficult for me to justify the occasional meetings with G., because I knew how much my husband disapproved of him.

Sigh.

Being a writer, though, I did manage to fulfill that fantasy, if only in a story. Sharing Leah was inspired by my relationships with these two soul mates. In that tale, the two men agree to live together with the woman they both love. However that doesn’t solve the problem of jealousy.

Excerpt:
When the magazine had hired her, bringing her from California back to Boston, the whole situation came to a head. Instead of being three thousand miles away from Greg, she was only thirty. The proximity magnified all the emotion—Greg’s, Daniel’s, and her own. The situation quickly became unbearable.

Finally, in desperation, she had suggested to Daniel that Greg move in with them. To her surprise, both men agreed.

That was more than six months ago. Six months of misery and bliss, open warfare and uneasy but welcome peace.

Tonight, the two men seemed to be on their best behavior. Daniel had outdone himself, serving up an incredible feast of poached salmon in pastry shells, scalloped potatoes, and a mesclun salad, with brandied pears for desert. Greg had complimented Daniel, quite sincerely, on the meal, then meekly helped her wash and dry the dishes.

Now the three of them sat out on the deck, finishing off the second bottle of wine and enjoying the residual warmth of early September. The air still smelled of summer, ripe raspberries and sun-browned grass. In the woods that edged the yard, night birds called. A crescent moon rose over the tree tops. The strains of Bach’s “Musical Offering” filtered through the screen from inside, mingling with the bird song.

At least Daniel and Greg share the same taste in music, thought Leah dreamily. She leaned back in her chair, finally relaxed.

When she glanced over at her husband, she saw that his eyes were closed. He was lost in the glorious melody. As though he felt her scrutiny, he turned to her, his handsome face luminous with joy.

Checking on her other lover, she found Greg was watching her, a gentle half smile on his full lips, with no hint of his usual mockery. Leah smiled back, grateful that he was acting like such a gentleman.

I’m incredibly lucky, she thought. Most women search all their lives for one true lover. I have two. Perhaps I should feel guilty, knowing that they have agreed to our ménage in order to please me. But all I feel is gratitude.

Hope and relief washed through her. Maybe this would work after all. They just had to adapt, to get used to living together. To give up some of their individual selfishness for the sake of group harmony. She’d been selfish herself, expecting them to suppress their natural jealousies and insecurities just to please her. She needed to be more understanding. It had to be difficult for them, sharing her. Both men were so dear to her—she needed to work harder to show them.

About Lisabet:
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

New from Lisabet Sarai! Understudy: Acts of Submission

One look from him and I melt. One word, and I’m on my knees.

Blurb

When the Berks Hills Summer Playhouse offered me my first real acting job, I never expected to share a stage with theater legend Geoffrey Hart – let alone his bed. Nothing in my education or experience prepared me for the paradoxical pleasures of submission.

Now I’m devoted to my master, for better or worse. According to the rumors, though, Geoff’s heart is taken. Dumped by his long-time sub, he has escaped to the Berkshires to lick his emotional wounds. Geoffrey’s dark games arouse me beyond belief, but I fear I’m just a substitute for the real object of his affections. Am I willing to settle for the role of understudy in this perverse passion play?

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been revised, expanded and re-edited for this release.

Buy Links
Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/4427-the-understudy-acts-of-submission/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B092VYT8DN

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.th/dp/B092VYT8DN

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1080182

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-understudy-lisabet-sarai/1139312061?ean=2940164880460

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/the-understudy-acts-of-submission

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57802100-the-understudy

Online Excerpt
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2021/04/like-snake-in-garden-bdsm-eroticromance.html

Myths, Cliches and Personal Experience
I’ve been reading, and writing, BDSM erotica and erotic romance for a long time. My first novel, deeply involved with dominance and submission, was published more than a decade before the appearance of FSOG. I know how difficult it is to create something fresh in these sub genres. Originality is possibly my most important personal criterion, both in selecting my reading and in creating my own stories, so I try very hard to avoid clichés. Sometimes, though, a BDSM cliché lies at the heart of what I want to say.

One somewhat overused and abused trope is the notion of the “natural submissive”. A woman who previously had no interest in power exchange meets a dominant man and immediately succumbs to his charisma. Despite her lack of experience with BDSM, she’s ready to obey his instructions, to let him bind her, punish her, and use her however he wishes. Instead of being awkward and terrified, she finds deep satisfaction in her submissive role. She’s thrilled when her Dom tells her that he’d intuited her secret desire for surrender, that he knew as soon as he met her that she craved a master.

The Understudy: Acts of Submission plays with this familiar scenario. As soon as she catches sight of him, aspiring actress Sarah falls under the spell of theater legend Geoffrey Hart. When he orders her to carry his luggage upstairs, she finds herself unable to refuse. And when he challenges her to consent and submit, she discovers joy and pleasure beyond anything she’d dreamed. Meanwhile, Geoff is delighted to find such an aptitude for surrender in a total novice, but claims not to be surprised.

I feel a bit guilty exploiting this trope, but I have to admit that I personally find it intensely erotic. That’s because it mirrors my own real world experience with BDSM. I was a horny but very vanilla twenty-something when I met the man who initiated me into dominance and submission. And the very first time we came together physically, I was hooked. Looking back, I’m still full of wonder at the trust that bloomed between us, when we scarcely knew one another. Forty years later, the intensity and beauty of that D/s relationship continues to show up in my erotic stories.

People in the kink community will tell you that trust takes time to grow, that both doms and subs need practice, that the instant connection glamorized in BDSM fiction is a myth. Maybe for some people, but for me, the myth turned out to be true. And I’m still sharing that revelation with my readers.

Excerpt
“It’s him!” Adele tugged at my shirt, almost hard enough to tear it. “Look, Sarah!” She pointed to the shiny black Lincoln cruising around the corner. “I still can’t believe it! We’re really going to have a chance to work with Geoffrey Hart!” The wooden porch shook as my friend literally jumped up and down with excitement. Adele’s temperament matched her fiery hair.

Of course my own heart beat faster than normal as the town car approached the inn at a sedate pace. Geoffrey Hart was a legend in American theater. Since his first appearance off-Broadway ten years earlier, he had won every award in the world of drama. He’d played every prestigious role from Oedipus to Willy Loman. One summer in Central Park I’d seen him as both Hamlet and King Lear. He was astonishing, equally convincing as the callow, indecisive university student and the bitter, world-weary old man. His magical voice, full of nuance and music, reached the back row without amplification. His body language was eloquent with emotion. In both plays, he’d made me cry. His performances were an inspiration, one of the things that finally made me settle on drama—much to my parent’s chagrin.

I’d been thrilled when the Berk Hills Playhouse offered me a place for the summer. I never in a million years expected that I’d meet the man who had been such a role model.

But why on earth was he coming here, to a little summer stock theater in the rural hills of western Massachusetts? The last news I saw, he was lead actor and part owner of the Gotham Repertory Company. What could possibly have induced him to abandon the city for the sticks?

“I heard that he broke up with Anne Merrill,” said Adele, sotto voce, as if she’d read my mind. “She dumped him. He’s come out here to the country to lick his wounds.”

“What? Who told you that?” I recalled the actor’s handsome face and imposing presence. It was hard to believe someone would dump him—he seemed like the type to do the dumping.

“I can’t reveal my sources.” Adele’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “But the word is that his heart is broken.”

“Oh come on!” I just couldn’t imagine someone like Hart moping about a woman. “Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, would I?” She put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick hug. “And that’s not all. There are rumors about their relationship—that it was, well, kinky, if you know what I mean. According to the grapevine, she wasn’t just his girlfriend. She was also his slave.”

“Please! You shouldn’t believe every bit of gossip you hear.”

“I’m just saying…”

About Lisabet
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

New! Mastering Maya–a BDSM erotic romance by Lisabet Sarai

How much heat will it take to melt the Ice Queen?

Blurb:
Mistress Maya’s precise discipline and unshakable self-possession are legendary in the Boston kink community. Newcomer Dom Shark is fascinated by her beauty and power from the moment he sees her flogging a sub at Club Inferno. Behind the Ice Queen’s mask of perfect control, he senses a spirit aching to submit. He’s determined to break through her defenses and bring her the same release she grants to the lucky slaves she tops.

When Maya dismisses Master Shark as young and inexperienced, he offers her a challenge: a night together, during which he’ll show her what it means to be mastered. If he fails to bring her to new heights of bliss, he agrees to become her slave.

Can he make Maya trust him enough to surrender? Or will the flawless, untouchable dominatrix take possession of his body as well as his heart?

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been revised, expanded and re-edited for this release.

Buy Links:
Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/8574-mastering-maya-a-bdsm-erotic-romance/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08SKJQFZ8

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08SKJQFZ8

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1063272

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mastering-maya-lisabet-sarai/1138601539?ean=2940164780654

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/mastering-maya-a-bdsm-erotic-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56610584-mastering-maya

Read an online excerpt!

PG Excerpt:
“Maya! I’m glad you’re still here. I want to introduce you to my old friend Shark. He’s just arrived in Boston.”

Tom’s booming voice matched his burly form. He dwarfed the wiry young stranger.

Calm. Calm. She flashed back to the pinnacles of ice for an instant. Then she accepted the new Dom’s outstretched hand. “Master Shark?” Her eyebrows arched and she allowed a hint of laughter into her voice. “A pleasure. Welcome to Club Inferno.”

“Please, call me Stephen.” He kept hold of her hand several seconds longer than protocol demanded. She noted that he stood only a few inches taller than she, that he smelled of female musk and cured leather, and that he was somewhat older than she’d guessed from a distance—closer to thirty than twenty. “I’m only Shark to my subs.”

“I can see how you earned the name.” Maya gestured toward the schoolroom door, where clots of Doms and subs were now emerging. “You’re as voracious and implacable as your namesake.” Her hand still tingled from his grip. She ignored the sensation.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The stranger chuckled. “You’re no fount of mercy yourself—if I may say so.” He raked her with his eyes, deliberately assessing her physical charms. Maya kept her face impassive, even as her pussy moistened. “Your caning—well, it was magnificent!”

Genuine admiration rang in his voice, though his bold stare suggested there were limits to his respect.

“Long years of training, Master Shark—as well as skilled teachers.” She skewered him with what she hoped was an intimidating look. “And who taught you, young man?” The emphasis on ‘young’ was subtle but unmistakable. “Where are you from?”

“San Francisco. I studied with Mistress Sylvia and Master Blade.”

“Ah, I know them well.” That partially explained his expertise. Sylvia and Blade both enjoyed stellar reputations in the kink community. “Though I haven’t played on the West Coast for many years.”

“I’m sure I would have noticed you if you had.” He looked as though he wanted to say more, but Maya cut him short.

“Nice to meet you, Stephen. But I’ve got to get home.”

“I’ll come with you.”

The suggestion was so unexpected that Maya, at first, barely noticed its rudeness.

“What? What do you mean?” Even she recognized the shock in her voice.

“I’d really like to get to know you better. You fascinate me.”

His frankness unnerved her. “Sorry, but I never take anyone home with me.” Maya tilted her head in Tom’s direction. “I’m surprised Master Thomas didn’t tell you.”

“Oh, I did!” Her long-time associate grinned at his companion. “He’s just the stubborn type. Won’t take no for an answer.”

“Not a desirable trait in a dominant,” Maya observed, covering her discomfort with disapproval. “When someone – even a bottom – says no, that means no.” She shook her head, edging away from the pair. “But, then, you’re still young and inexperienced.”

Shark’s arm shot out. He seized her wrist, preventing her from leaving. “I’m not that young.” The dark edge in his voice sent a scary thrill straight to her sex. “I just know what I want. And I’m used to getting it.”

New Release! A Kinky Christmas Carol: Lisabet Sarai

The ghost of Christmas Future…

Gay, paranormal, holiday-themed, BDSM Romance
21,000 words
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9781005878955
ASIN: B08QGYYBY4

Blurb:
Michael dreams of being a slave. His lover Neil has no clue about his dirty desires; Michael’s too ashamed to share his submissive fantasies with his burly, powerful partner. Frustrated and confused, he wonders whether he and Neil really belong together.

Then, on Christmas Eve, Michael receives a visit from a sexy Dom named Thorne Wilder, who claims to be his lover from the future. Thorne shows Michael scenes from a wild life of sexual excess that he claims they’ll share if he breaks up with Neil.

Should Michael trust the ghost of Christmas future, or does his true future lie with Neil?

(Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound with the title Tomorrow’s Gifts. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.)

Buy Links:
Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/8527-a-kinky-christmas-carol-gay-bdsm-romance/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08QGYYBY4

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08QGYYBY4

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1058955

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-kinky-christmas-carol-lisabet-sarai/1138471310?ean=2940164759179

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/a-kinky-christmas-carol-gay-bdsm-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56328426-a-kinky-christmas-carol

Online Excerpt:
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2020/12/a-kinky-christmas-carol-newrelease.html

A Kinky Christmas Carol Excerpt:
I woke with a start, not knowing why. Neil had rolled over; he lay on his side of the bed with his back to me. All at once I felt terribly alone.

Golden light filtered up the hallway from the living room. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. Had we forgotten to turn off the Christmas tree? But no, I remembered flipping the switch before we left for the party. Neil was always concerned about the danger of fire.

What was it then? Something out on the street in front of the building, an emergency vehicle or something? Those lights would be red, wouldn’t they?

Trying not to wake Neil, I crawled out of bed and tiptoed barefoot down the hall. The closer I got to the living room, the brighter the light became.

The tree was in fact lit, the multicolored bulbs twinkling in a spiral pattern. Someone had kindled the candles on the mantle, as well. However, these were not the source of the golden glow.

A young man lay sprawled on the sofa – an exceptionally handsome man. His flawless skin was bronzed as if he spent most of his time in the sun. His ragged, honey-colored hair hung down over one eye. He had high cheekbones, a prominent nose, ripe lips with a slightly cruel cast. Despite his fair hair, his eyebrows were dark. They arched gracefully over eyes that held me transfixed – brilliant, wise, all-seeing eyes.

The man wore leather, so supple and tight that it showed every well-sculpted muscle of his powerful body.

This exotic stranger was emitting the strange illumination. The light surrounded him like a halo. When he moved, it ebbed and flowed as though it were alive.

I must be dreaming, I concluded. But who would have believed that I could dream up such a gorgeous guy?

“Good evening, Michael.” His voice was like honey, too, sweet and smooth flowing. It made my mouth water. I realized that I was naked and half-erect. I didn’t care. Wonder and arousal overwhelmed me.

“Um – good evening… Who are you? How do you know my name?”

The stranger swung his long legs off the couch and stood up. The light shimmered around him. My eyes were drawn to the bulge at his groin.

“I’m your lover.”

A stab of guilt shredded my sense of well-being. “Uh – I have a lover. He’s asleep in the other room.”

“I’m your future lover.”

“My future lover?” I felt stupid, parroting him, but I didn’t know what to say.

“I’ve come from the future, to give you a glimpse of your life with me. To help you decide.”

This time I knew what he meant. He was talking about leaving Neil. This was just a guilt dream, based on my musings before I fell asleep.

“You’re not real.”

“Of course I’m real. Touch me.”

Lisabet Sarai:
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Comfort and Joy–Red hot holiday romance from Lisabet Sarai!

Mistletoe kisses, Yuletide passion and a sprinkling of kink

Holiday erotic romance boxed set
38,000 words, 135 pages
Amazon and Kindle Unlimited
MF, MFM, MM, Five flames – HEA/HFN

Blurb:
Kick off the festive season with this red-hot celebration of holiday love. An aging author of kinky romance surrenders to the charm of her rock star neighbor. A selfish, cynical stock broker finds himself rescued by a spunky homeless girl. On her Dom husband’s orders, a devoted submissive provides Christmas service to his best friend. A gay grad student moonlighting at a sex shop discovers it’s definitely worthwhile to stay open on Christmas Eve.

Let Lisabet warm you up with a generous portion of comfort, joy and sensual pleasure.

Buy Links:
Kinky Literature –
Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08P2CM6KL
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08P2CM6KL
Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56030561-comfort-joy

Online Excerpt:
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2020/11/charity-sunday-shelter-and-more-for.html

Excerpt (from “Cherry Pie and Mistletoe”):
“Wait! Just a minute. This is silly. We’re not teenagers. We need a bed.”

He chuckled. “There’s a sleep cubby behind the cab of my rig, but we’d be packed in like sardines. I actually think the booth’d be more comfortable.”

I giggled. “I did have sex in the back of an eighteen wheeler once, when I was hitching to the West Coast. A long time ago… Anyway, that won’t be necessary. Come home with me.”

“Huh? What about the truck?”

“Leave it here. My house is just down the road. An easy walk.” I clambered off the bench. “Give me a sec to close things up here and we can go.”

Bushy eyebrows knotted together, Dave looked doubtful. “You sure, Marnie? You wanna bring a total stranger into your home?”

“You’re no stranger,” I replied, turning off the coffee machine and flipping light switches. “You ate my pie.” I stepped into the kitchen to lock the back door and grab my jacket. “And I ate you,” I added , when I’d rejoined him in the main room of the diner. “I’d say we were pretty well acquainted.”

I left the little Christmas tree on, its lights twinkling through the fogged windows, but shut down the main sign. The neon Indian chief above the steel plated roof faded into darkness. Hand in hand, Dave and I stepped out of the vestibule, into the calm, cold night.

The wind had died and, as predicted, the messy precipitation of earlier had turned to snow. White flakes tumbled around us like feathers after a pillow fight. They landed on my cheeks, each one a tiny, icy prickle on my warm skin. I filled my lungs with the clean, frigid air, feeling more alive than I could remember.

A couple of inches had already accumulated, on the ground and on the hood of Dave’s shiny green cab. He was right; the tractor-trailer took up the entire parking area. I squeezed his fingers, then brushed my other hand across his groin. “That’s a big rig you have there,” I commented. “Must be hard to handle.”

“I’ve never had any problems,” he replied, reaching around my back to palm my breast. He grinned down at me, his curly hair dusted with glittering snowflakes. “Now where’s this house of yours? Or should I ravish you right here in front of your diner?”

Meet Lisabet:
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

New! Lisabet Sarai and D&S Duos 6

Two searing tales of erotic surrender

MF and MMF BDSM Erotica
Approximately 12,000 words
Smashwords and AmazonKDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9780463666326
ASIN: B087HHF835

Blurb:
Muse
Of course she’d dreamed of being a slave. That was obvious on a close reading of any of her romances. The passion leaked out, even in the tamest of her kinky scenes. Yet when the Master she’d craved appeared, at first she didn’t recognize him.

Détente
I don’t want to surrender, but I can’t help it. I’m dizzy with instantly kindled lust. He nips at my lips, probes me with his tongue. He drinks me in, consumes me. Between my thighs everything melts. The room begins to smell funky, as though he already had me naked and open before him.

Also includes an X-rated excerpt from Babes in Bondage:
Vegas Babes Book 5.

Buy Links:
Kinky Literature
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Smashwords
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
Add on Goodreads

Read an online Excerpt

Excerpt:
I tried to choose, ten years ago. I married David, traveled the world with him, settled down, as much as I’m ever likely to. My ties to Eric wouldn’t let me rest.

I would dream of his voice commanding me, his hands alternately caressing and tormenting me. I craved the sensation of him ravaging me until I was too sore to walk. I yearned for the near-telepathic connection we shared when he called me to his dungeon and bound me to his service.

“Give me your body – give me your mind,” he had whispered in my ear on that night long ago, when I was young and impressionable, before I’d ever met David. Malleable, he called me, gently mocking. Indeed, he molded my desires into strange and fearful shapes. Lust, obsession, love, whatever you want to call it, it flowed between us like currents of fire.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough to keep us together. His sensitivity could turn into irritability. His sense of power could dwindle to miserable inadequacy. He was intuitive, but didn’t always share his insights.

I was young, as I said. I reacted instinctively to his desire, but I didn’t really understand his heart. I thought that I was nothing more to him than his slut, and never would be.

Meanwhile David exploded into my life and swept me off my feet with his quirky gallantry. We skinny-dipped under the full moon, drank vodka and pondered philosophy until dawn, spent entire Sundays in bed feasting on each other’s bodies.

David wrote me poems and sang me the blues. He took me to the strip clubs in the seedier part of town, then later plowed me with long, slow strokes while we fantasized about the dancers. He recounted picaresque tales of his travels, bus trips through jungles in Sumatra, hurried couplings under the bridges of Paris, epiphanies in the mountains of Peru. He promised to take me with him on his next set of adventures.

I married David. Eric still hasn’t forgiven me.

About Lisabet:

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

New Release! D & S Duos, Book 5 by Lisabet Sarai

Let the Mistress give you the pain you crave.

Blurb

Powerful women take control in this fifth volume of Lisabet Sarai’s D&S Duos series. In “Shades of Red”, a young woman vacationing in Amsterdam rents a room in the fabled red light district and discovers the thrill of dominating a willing male. In “Poker Night”, a God-fearing, working class guy visits his Mistress to satisfy his secret, shameful needs. Also includes a sizzling F/m excerpt from The Heart of the Deal: Business, Bondage, Discipline and Desire.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/6852-ds-duos-book-5-/
Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086LCM1W9
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086LCM1W9
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1012222
Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/d-s-duos-book-5-lisabet-sarai/1136765078?ean=2940164018559
Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/d-s-duos-book-5
Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52907498-d-s-duos-book-5

Online Excerpt
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2020/04/new-in-d-duos-series-newrelease-femdom.html

Excerpt

“Sex with strangers? For money? You’ve got to be insane, Ruby!”

Jane’s Delft-blue eyes are wide with disbelief. Her horrified protest is loud enough to trigger tolerant smiles at neighboring tables. This is, after all, worldly and decadent Amsterdam.

“I’ve already hired the window. For tonight.”

“But it’s dangerous!”

“Oh, please! There’s 24 hour video surveillance. The police practically outnumber the tourists strolling around the district at night. Every cubicle has an alarm in case things get dicey. The landlord showed me how it worked.”

“But it’s so degrading! Once a man pays you, you’re obliged to do whatever he says. You’ve got no choice.”

I sip my cappuccino. My lipstick leaves a crimson crescent on the china cup.

“Nonsense. I’ll be the one in control. I was watching the women last night. Anyone whose looks they don’t like, they send away. The men are the ones who are desperate, vulnerable. They want us so much, they’re willing to pay to satisfy their desires.”

Jane shakes her head. “If your father finds out, he’ll be furious.”

“How would he find out? You wouldn’t tell him, would you?” I put on a stern face, not too different from his. Cowed, she lowers her eyes.

“Of course not. Still, you know how he is. It was tough to get him to agree to this trip at all. We had to really lean on the culture aspect.”

“I’m old enough to make up my own mind.” My friend’s red-gold ringlets, backlit by the afternoon sun, make her look like a Botticelli angel. I relish the thought of corrupting her. “Come on, Jane! We’ve been doing nothing but high-minded museums and libraries and concerts for the past three days. I just want some fun.”

“I’m afraid you’ll get more than you bargain for.”

“I certainly hope so.

About Lisabet

New Release! Babes in Bondage–Lisabet Sarai

It’s 9 PM in Vegas. Do you know your safe word?

Bisexual Kinky Erotica
46,000 words, 171 pages
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9780463927717
ASIN: B07ZNSS576

Hashtags/Keywords

Blurb

Some people just won’t mind their own business. When an anti-porn terrorist group shuts down the Sin City Fetish Fair, Larry Archer offers The Fox’s Den as an alternative venue. With the assistance of newly arrived dominant Master Shark, plans for the Den’s very first Kink Night quickly take shape. Indeed, the denizens of the Den are practicing their BDSM techniques well before the event.

Blonde, beautiful and untouched, Patricia Hastings leads the Citizens Resisting American Perversion in their fight against filth. She’s determined to destroy the licentious, permissive, anything-but-vanilla strip club – whatever it takes. A smidgen of plastic explosive should do the trick… If only she can resist her attraction to the voluptuous, red-headed minx Annie, and her own secret craving for surrender.

Caught in the act of sabotage, Patty faces a choice: arrest, scandal and prison, or private punishment at the hands of Master Shark and his horny acolytes. Will C.R.A.P.’s paragon of purity uphold her prudish principles? Or consent to the violations that populate her forbidden fantasies?

Babes in Bondage -- Lisabet Sarai

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/4255-babes-in-bondage-vegas-babes-book-5/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZNSS576

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07ZNSS576

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/988144

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/babes-in-bondage-lisabet-sarai/1134430382?ean=2940163375479

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/babes-in-bondage-vegas-babes-book-5

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/48643050-babes-in-bondage

Babes in Bondage -- Lisabet Sarai

Excerpt (PG)

“Lock ‘em up, lock ‘em up!”

The TV footage of the righteous crowd besieging the convention center entrance filled Patty with pride. This had to be one of C.R.A.P’s most successful actions ever. Police armed with shields held back the protesters, creating a gauntlet through which other officers escorted the attendees and vendors exiting the facility. Looking harried and scared, the perverts flinched away from the taunts and the occasional rotten vegetable as they scrambled toward buses waiting outside the perimeter. It served them right. Maybe the experience would make them change their ways.

Patty caught a glimpse of her father, standing with a mic on a flat bed truck, leading the chants. In his tailored suit and white Stetson hat, Senator Ernest B. Hastings was rugged and distinguished, a beacon of moral rectitude, a man with a mission. A pity his tactics were so old-fashioned.

The broadcast cut to the buxom anchorwoman, who gazed into the camera with feigned concern. “We’ve just learned that the Worldwide Pleasure and Lifestyle Exhibition will close this evening, two days ahead of schedule. There are rumors that the organizers plan to sue the city.”

“Whooee!” Jinx and Joey, her two lieutenants, crowed in unison. “We did it! We shut the pervs down.”

“We did indeed,” she answered. “I really appreciate your help, boys.” Jinx had hacked into the convention center management systems to pinpoint the location of the electrical control room. Joey had driven the motorcycle she’d used for her getaway. It had been Patty’s job, though, to infiltrate the building, find the transformers and plant the explosives.

It has been surprisingly easy. Amid the garish costumes and general lewdness of the Fair, nobody had thought twice about stopping a pretty blonde wearing a leather bikini, high heel boots and elbow-length satin gloves.

Her father believed demonstrations by committed citizens would stem the tide of twisted filth washing over America. Patty knew more radical action was needed.

She clicked off the news, then rose to her feet. “You’d better go. The banquet’s at seven, and I’m supposed to give the keynote. I’ve got to shower and get ready.”

Jinx unfolded his skinny limbs from the hotel room couch. He stuck a hand under his military-style fatigues to scratch his belly. “I’m beat,” he said. “Gonna get some shut-eye before the festivities. Unless of course you need s’more help…” His transparent leer made her skin crawl.

“Thanks, but no. You and Joey have done more than enough. See you tonight.”

“Okay, Miss Patty.” Joey scooped up the last two potato chips from the bowl in front of him and crammed them into his mouth, then lumbered after Jinx. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Patty closed the door behind them with a sigh of relief. She’d deliberately recruited guys who not only possessed the skills she needed, but who were also physically unattractive. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by any weakness of the flesh that might derail her plans. Furthermore, she had to maintain her image as the incorruptible virgin vice-president of Citizens Resisting.

About Lisabet

Tag: #BDSM

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