by Susan Strict
The fourth collection of short stories from Susan Strict once again takes femdom to new heights, or depths, of domination and fear. Familiar themes take on new slants, and even the predictable and inevitable turns into the unexpected.
A lonely woman’s own version of an anti-assault device brings her more satisfaction than even she had ever imagined. When a woman who does not like sex manages to trap a man to gratify her own particular desires, it unexpectedly turns into as much of a nightmare for her as for him.
A man’s lust for his sister-in-law and a desire to be dominated brings him more pain than he could possibly have ever imagined or wanted, while merely listening to a woman’s complaints of how her husband has lost interest in being dominated can have unexpected consequences.
Having a woman sit on your face and simultaneously being electro-zapped may be too much for most men and yet some have to put up with it, particularly if they are tied to the bed and have no choice.
None, however, are likely to find anything more terrifying than to have wandered too close to the army barracks housing a company of sex-starved female soldiers.
And don’t forget the rabbits.
This is a collection of stories not to be missed, containing diverse, exciting and erotic tales with undeniably wicked twists that take the reader into fresh and stimulating fantasies.
Published: 3 / 2006
No. words: 30200
“Naughty,” she said, and slapped his cheek again several times, but not too hard.
She leaned right forward, his face covered completely between her breasts. She pressed her breasts together with her hands, her soft flesh forming an airtight seal round his mouth and nose. She liked this game of breath control. He could breathe only when she chose to let him breathe, and again she felt the feeling of power over him rise within her in and excitement that was far deeper than any physical arousal. Repeatedly she smothered him and released him, varying the time he was covered so that he never knew whether to expect it would last just a few seconds or more than a minute. Sometimes she allowed him to breathe for several seconds, or gave him just the time to catch one quick breath.
She knelt astride his face again. She was naked, now, and she let him look up at her. There was enough light in the darkened room for him to see her, dimly, outlined, sensual yet shadowy and threatening. She let him look for a minute, two minutes, then she came down onto him. With no mesh body stocking between them, her flesh seemed to envelop him totally.
She sat, covering him completely for longer than he thought he could possibly have held his breath, and then she started to move. Steadily, rhythmically, she moved on him as he licked and sucked at her. She concentrated on her own pleasure, not caring or considering whether he was comfortable underneath her. She rocked, wriggled, slid, writhed on top of him until finally she shuddered with extreme pleasure, and her muscles gripped at him so tightly he felt almost as though his bones would break.