Coffee Break Erotica BDSM 2: Short Leashes
Coffee Break Erotica BDSM are ultrashort stories read in about 10 to 15 minutes. Perfect for a coffee break or a quickie. No frills. Right to the action. If you’re low on time and need satisfaction, then dive into erotica BDSM!
In Short Leashes, Number 13 is the slave of a powerful aristocrat. While strolling through a mystical garden of forking paths, her master explains what he expects of her. What starts as submissive sex play turns into voyeuristic group action. But do these garden walkways hold a unique magic unseen?
*Warning: These erotica BDSM stories average around 1,300 words (10-15 minute reading time).
Print Length: 11 pages
Type: Standalone Story (For Men & Women)
Price: $.99
Coffee Break Erotica BDSM 2: Short Leashes (Sample)
In this reality, his name is Andrew Brinsley Manners, the 19th Duke of Rutland, but he has many titles: the Marquess of Granby, the Earl of Rutland, Baron Manners, or Baron Roos. He’s a billionaire and aristocrat, handsome, tall, and imposing… My designation is Number 13 and the man owns me.
Today, I wear a black corset studded with two rows of beads running up each side, lining up with my exposed nipples. He always demands bralessness. Bikini tan lines outline my vivacious breasts. Garters hold in place sheer black stockings. 4-inch heels adorn my dainty feet. Another rule of his.
The Duke leads me forward on a short leash. The sun breaks the cloudy sky, but a black parasol protects my fragile skin as we travel the grounds around Belvoir Castle in the East Midlands.
Woodland parks and gardens surround a central pond. A forked path leads away from it. Most times the Duke chooses the left road, and we travel near the mausoleum grounds close to the castle. He gestures around the garden as we walk, showing off his other female contracts. Several women stroll around the walkways. A few of his prizes sport sheer panties, but always braless. Others wear leather and pearls. All have immaculate hairstyles and those 4-inch heels. He loves them the higher they go.
The Duke stops and turns to me. He runs his fingers through my auburn bangs, straightening them like a mother does. His hand strokes the rest of my lengthy mane. The silky strands graze my nipples. He glances at the flesh hardening and stares into my red-rouged eyes proclaiming, “Kneel.”
I do so.
“My eyes,” he says. “Give me your full attention.”
I open my mouth to speak. He hushes me with a finger placed to my lips.
“Don’t speak until I finish.”
He grabs my chin and says, “Most humans can’t do the things I ask. Most break and then I discard them. If one is strong, one can win my trust. If one breaks our contract, it’s the end.” Jealousy creeps across the faces of the other slaves as he speaks to me.
Number 3 and I make eye-contact. Number 5, a woman wearing a harlequin mask, turns away from me. My gaze moves to a bald woman designated Number 6. Her eyes bore into me. Caution grips my heart. Rumors of fistfights between slaves enter my mind.
The Duke jerks my head away. “Not Number 6. Don’t look at it. Let me reiterate. It isn’t it anymore. It exists to serve my needs.”
“Yes, Duke. I understand.” I resist the urge to glance back at the woman.
“Through training you’ll expect my desires, feeling incomplete if you fail. If I yearn for something, it’ll break you. Do you understand?”
He raises his crop to illustrate his dominion over me.
To Be Continued…
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