Series: Perfect Seasoning #3.5
Genre: BDSM, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Erotica
Release Date: April 29, 2022
Published by: Changeling Press
Perfect Seasoning: I was afraid when my master came for me, when he started to play with his favorite toys. But if I suffer for him, if I surrender to his dominance, if I give myself over to his ecstasy, then I will be the perfect seasoning for this hunger that consumes us.
Perfect Spice: He was not supposed to watch. But she was so perfect, so hungry.... Whatever Master has planned for his punishment will be sure to add the Perfect Spice to his slavery.
Perfect Sense: We are going walkies. I love the sunshine on my skin, but Master never does anything without a reason...
Publisher’s Note: The Perfect Seasoning is A Razor’s Edge Alien Invasion BDSM Tentacle Monster Capture Fantasy, and includes nonconsensual and torture scenes that may be triggers for some readers. The Perfect Seasoning includes the previously published novellas Perfect Seasoning, Perfect Spice, and Perfect Sense.
Also in this series:
Excerpt from Perfect Seasoning
I was scared when he tightened the leather straps around my wrist, fastening them to the chain link fencing that glistened insidiously in the room full of leather.
I was scared when he ran the leather of the waist belt though the same fencing, pressing my breasts into its cold, diamond embrace. My nipples instantly grew hard.
I was scared when he locked my legs to the unforgiving metal at the top of my thighs, above my knees, and at my ankles.
I was trapped. There was no place to run.
My breath heaved loudly in the nearly silent room, almost drowning out the sound of the small vibrator that buzzed merrily in my pussy. It was long enough to tease, but there was no way I was going to get off with the annoying little toy.
“Comfortable?” he asked. His footsteps slowly circled me. They sounded hard and unforgiving, like his stance on just about everything that had to do with me.
Like his hard, muscular body, there was no give in his personality. He was straightforward and demanding, stubborn as hell and cruel as a devil. He ran one broad hand across my back, then down my spine to the quivering cheeks of my ass. As always, he was bent on taking total control.
He leaned forward and whispered in my ear as he began to knead my ass cheeks. “I’ve always loved these.” I could smell his breath, always lemon and mint with a hint of vanilla, almost as well as I could feel the heat wafting off the skin of his bare chest.
His nipples were hard. I could feel them against my skin. He was wearing leather pants thin enough I could tell he wore nothing beneath. That excited me, and I couldn’t help but shiver in reaction.
He laughed then, knowing I was totally aware of him and of my vulnerable position. I would have glared at him, but the fucker had me positioned so it was uncomfortable to move my head. I could rest my right cheek against the fencing and see the rack of staffs, paddles and canes that he regularly took to my hide. Or I could rest my left cheek against the chain links and see the rolling table of toys I was sad to say I was all too familiar with. That, or I could push my head back and get a decent view of the metal and leather ceiling and the odd, soft lighting.
“Your ass is magnificent.” He squeezed my cheeks again, pressing his dick against me. God, he was inhumanly hot there. “I love the way the bindings emphasize the roundness and fullness of it. Black is definitely your color, much better than those pinks and reds.”
He moved back, and before I could guess what he was going to do there was a loud popping sound, and a starburst of heat exploded over my right ass cheek.
I jerked at the unexpected pain. It was weak and dull, and only made me clench down on the vibrator within me, wanting more contact against my clit.
“It’ll look so much better… stuffed.” He leaned back in to whisper that last word in my ear, before he parted my ass cheeks and ran one finger down my trench to my quivering hole. His free hand went into my hair, stroking my scalp gently. “You want this stuffed, don’t you?”
I was not going to answer, and he knew it because the hand in my hair tightened into a fist. He yanked my head back, straining the tendons of my neck. I whimpered as I got a good look at his face, looming above me, shrouded in shadows and darkness.
He loved this. His brown eyes glittered, and an evil expression crossed his almost patrician features as he inhaled deeply, scenting my pain and fear. He tightened his fist until little pinpricks of growing pain loosened my tongue and I gave him the actual word he wanted.
“Yes!” I gasped, my body shivering deliciously at his dominance while my mind cursed me for being weak enough to give in.