Strictly Susan – The Eighth Collection



by Susan Strict

Strictly Susan – The Eighth Collection is another collection of erotic short stories, with Susan Strict at her wicked best.

Previous themes are approached from new angles, and new themes abound. Dommes may switch and submissives may dominate, but inevitably someone is going to end up in a highly erotic and extreme situation they never intended or expected. Once tasted, the sheer power of a dominant woman may be hard to resist, and even when there is no compulsion to remain it may be impossible to avoid returning to suffer her whims, her desires and her excesses.

Published: 02 / 2008
No. words: 31000


“I hope you`re ready for this,” she said.

She did not give him the opportunity to answer. She moved forward, lifting her skirt and then letting it fall around his head and chest. She sat down heavily right on his face with no attempt to lessen the pressure of her full weight on him.

He was smothered instantly, completely unable to breathe, and pressed down under her soft, clinging flesh. He panicked, clutching at her with his hands and trying to push her from him. She grasped his wrists and held them tightly, adjusting her position on him until she felt comfortable.

“Are you all right down there?” she asked, and a shiver went through her as his mouth moved soundlessly in reply.

She sat motionless for over a minute, until his lungs were screaming for air and his writhing body had stopped its futile effort to throw her off him. Then she raised herself a little and moved back to sit at the very top of his chest, her skirt still completely covering his head.

“Lick,” she commanded, and when he did nothing except gasp at the air he so badly needed she lifted her skirt, moved her legs wide apart, and slapped his face.

“You wanted to do this,” she told him, “And now we`ve started we`re going to do it properly. You`re not leaving me halfway there.”

“You nearly suffocated me,” he choked.

“I warned you,” she said. “You said you didn`t care, so now we`re going to finish it whether you like it or not.”

“I can`t,” he said feebly.

“I suggest you make the effort,” she insisted. “I`m going to do it, and it will take a lot longer unless you help. You can begin by using that tongue of yours.”

He could not believe the change that seemed to have come over her. As long as he had known her she had been a mild, cautious and almost innocent woman. Now she had suddenly become demanding and overpowering. He was more than a little frightened of what she might do.

He raised his head a little and tentatively touched her with the end of his tongue. She let go of his wrists and grasped the back of his head with both hands, pulling him against her and pressing forward onto him at the same time. As he licked and sucked at her she gripped and pushed, moving faster and faster with her hands and with her body. In no more than twenty or thirty seconds she groaned briefly and let go of him. A long, drawn-out sigh came from her. She lay back on him with the back of her head resting right on the bulge in his trousers, her skirt up around her waist, and both of her hands now pressed between her own legs. With difficulty, as though every movement was an effort, she raised her hips and managed to unfold her legs from the kneeling position to put them straight out on either side of his head. She groaned again.

She lay like that for many minutes, motionless, her legs pressing lightly on either side of his face, the hot damp area between them almost but not quite touching his chin.

Finally she sat up and swung her legs round and off the bed. She stood, adjusting her skirt.

“Well?” she said. “Are you going to lie there all day?”


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