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Beauty of the Beast
Genre: erotic romance
Number of pages: 265
Word Count: 65,500
The year is 1950. The town is Austin, Texas. Young reporter Mary Jane Andrews isn’t sure what SM is, but she’s heard that it’s going on outside Austin, and she’s determined to investigate.
Mary Jane Andrews is what Texans call a pistol. She thinks fast, acts faster, and takes the consequences with a laugh. The year is 1950. Young reporter Mary Jane isn’t sure what SM is, but she’s heard that it’s going on outside Austin, and she’s determined to investigate. Once she meets the Master, she’s both enthralled and scared spitless.
What’s a Master to do when his hotter-than-sin sexual soul mate shows up at the door of his highly illegal sex house? Don’t worry, he has lots of ideas...
Trouble is, Mary Jane wants the story. And the Master won’t spend the rest of his natural life in jail. The sex is explosive, inventive, and addictive, both ways. Will it be bend or break for the insatiable Beauty and the masterful Beast?
Excerpt from Beauty of the Beast- Warning Explicit Over 18 Only
My first indication that we weren't quite finished was an insistent and rising pressure against my abdomen.
"George," I asked in wonder, "How can you do that?"
"You'd be surprised, Mary Jane."
I already was—flabbergasted, in fact—but if he was ready, so was I. I could feel the juices flowing, and a familiar ache building in my womb. George grabbed my wrist—it was my turn to be the slave again—and led me toward the back of the room. He stopped by the examination table and picked up the short, thick dildo and a handful of condoms. This looked promising.
When he pulled me toward an adjoining door, I hung back in mock protest, and tugged at his arm. He knew I was kidding, and I could see the gears meshing in his brain. He decided to see if he could actually scare me a little. The thought alone was enough to do it, and I started to pull back in earnest.
He dragged me into the next room, which was totally dark. He seemed to know his way around easily, but even after my eyes adjusted, I could make out only shadowy shapes. I heard him lock the door with a key, then the clank as the key landed on the far side of the room. Once he knew I wasn't going anywhere, he let go of my wrist. I tried to move away from him, but I barked my shin on a low table, and then tripped over something on the floor. If he hadn't caught my elbow, I would have fallen.
"Hold still, Mary Jane."
"I'm scared, George."
"Good. You should be." He held my elbow, and the next thing I knew, he had bound my wrists with a soft cloth. I swung at him with my bound fists, and caught him in the chest. He grunted, then started to laugh.
"You never give up, do you."
I felt myself lifted in two strong arms. He carried me out in front of him like a piece of lumber. I swung one foot, but didn't connect with anything. It's hard to kick someone in the pitch-dark. He set me down and told me not to move; it sounded like good advice to me. I felt him move away and then come back. I heard a noise like a screwing motion, but I couldn't imagine what he might be attaching to what. He told me.
"I'm going to lift you up now, Mary Jane, and put you on a child's mechanical horse, like the ones in the supermarket."
Okay, I could go along that far.
"I've attached the dildo to the saddle, and we're going to slide you down onto it very gently."
"Wait a minute. You're going to what?"
He lifted me by the waist. "You heard me. Swing your leg over."
I obeyed him mechanically, still protesting. "I don't think this is going to…"
"Put your hands on the horse's head," he interrupted me. "Use your arms to ease yourself down."
I could feel him lowering me onto the saddle, and swung my arms up quickly. I found the horse's head and pushed up as hard as I could. My body rose up briefly, then began to lower again as his strength easily overpowered mine. I was getting nervous, and sputtered out cautionary comments.
"Does this thing have any stirrups?"
"Let your legs swing loose, Mary Jane."
"Whoa!" The horse talk seemed appropriate. "Let's think about this for a—"
I felt the dildo touch me on the soft skin between my vagina and anus.
"Wait, you haven't got the right spot."
If he was going to make me do this, I had better help out so I wouldn't get hurt. I started to direct traffic, a little higher, no a little lower, ahhh. It was almost a relief when I felt the dildo push against the right spot. Then I remembered how big the thing was, as the thick shaft oozed its way inside me. He had slicked it up with lots of jelly; and once it found the inside door, there was no way I could pull myself off. Besides, his big hands maintained a steady downward pressure at my waist. I gasped and moaned a little as my lips stretched and stretched. My own juices joined the jelly, and soon the shaft was as slick as a greased pig. When my hips landed on the saddle, I heaved a sigh of relief.
George let me sit quietly for a minute, breathing hard. Then he lifted me up about an inch, and lowered me back down. The dildo wasn't very long, and I couldn't feel a lot of pressure on the walls of my vagina, but what it did to the opening was intense. As he raised and lowered me, I realized why he had chosen a short, thick sex-toy. A longer one might have bruised me, since neither George nor I could control how far in it went.
That was my last conscious thought, as I gave myself up to the pleasure of riding up and down, up and down, in George's steady hands. Finally his arms got tired, and he lifted me with more and more effort. I hadn't reached a climax, and I was disappointed, but not for long. I heard a mysterious click, and by the time the coin dropped in my mind, I screamed as the mechanical pony started to buck beneath me.
"Stop! You have to stop it!" I screamed over and over, but I knew he couldn't. That was the terror and the excitement of it. The horse moved much faster than George had, and more erratically. I could feel the dildo bucking up and down inside me with a wild fury. George's hand pushed against my lower back, and I held on to the horse's head for dear life. I screamed the whole ride. Then abruptly the horse became still beneath me. My screams stopped, and I began to sob in frustration. When it was bucking, I wanted it to stop; but now that it had stopped, all I wanted was for it to start again.
"Put in another coin," I gasped.
George chuckled and removed his hand from my back. I was afraid he wasn't going to let me keep going, so I wheedled like an obnoxious child. "Please, please, please." My voice was breathless and anxious.
George picked up my hands where they lay against the horse's head and placed them around the reins. I knew reins weren't going to stop this horse, and without my hands on the horse's head, I wouldn't be able to control the movement of my body at all. I began to have second thoughts about having another ride. My wheedling stopped.
A few seconds passed, then I heard the click. I screamed involuntarily as the bucking began.
Then I heard another click—oh, God—and another, and another.
About the Author:
Carole Remy lives in Mexico with her beloved dog Gemma. When she isn’t writing and touring her novels, you can find her rescuing dogs, learning wood sculpture, and salsa dancing!
Carole Remy Author