Read excerpt: Vanishing Virgins by Roger Hastings

BDSM eBook

A Stirring Plot, Well-Drawn Characters - Everything To Titillate Readers Who Love The Extremes Of S&M Erotica!

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A pretty young girl, naked except for the leashed collar around her neck, crawled in on her hands and knees. Behind her was a bald and naked male, his physique squat and muscular, his beefy body only about four feet tall, every inch of him unmistakably masculine. His one hand held the girl's leash and a long, wicked crop. His other hand held a shiny pair of silver scissors, working the blades open and shut. He, too, wore a wide black leather collar, but his had gleaming brass letters riveted to it. They spelled out two terse words, 'Obey me!' Lifting up and out from his crotch was a surprisingly long, ponderous cock, elevated and enhanced by a cunning harness that exaggerated its already terrifyingly impressive size and length. An array of gleaming, somewhat pyramid-shaped golden studs decorated the encircling leather strap just behind his cock's head, their blunted tips diabolically intended to inflict punishing pain, but not injury, while stroking deep inside a defenseless pussy. His stiffened cock danced and waved about as his squat, bulky, almost primate-looking body waddled toward Edith. He herded the collared girl along with blows to her already welted ass from his black leather crop. It was even longer than he was tall, and he wielded it with gleeful precision. The girl crept around in front of Dr. Valentine, her head down, tears dripping from her soft brown eyes as she moved in between his legs. The little man put down his crop and handed the leash to Dr. Valentine. He paused next to him, waiting for orders.

"This is Borga; he trains my female pets," Dr. Valentine said to Edith. "I thought that should be his name because he loves to bore into pretty girl's orifices. I'm sure he will make it excruciatingly plain to you why I gave him that name." He reached out and patted his shiny bald head. "This stubborn young girl refuses to remove her clothing for our amusement. Can you make an even more entertaining spectacle of her?"

His voice was the scrape of rough gravel underfoot. "Yes, Master Valentine. It will be a pleasure." The scissors quivered impatiently in his grip.

"You may begin." He nodded to Borga, then spread his legs wide and spoke to the brunette girl hovering between his thighs. "Begin."

She fumbled with the buttons of his fly, spreading it open and reaching in with her petite fingers. She carefully pulled out Dr. Valentine's already swelling cock and kissed it tenderly.

Borga marched up to Edith, gazing up at her face, grinning wickedly at the panic-stricken girl reduced to whimpering. He scooped up the bottom hem of her wedding gown and slid his stubby fingers under her frilly petticoat and glided his fingers slowly up the length of her leg, from her ankle to her knee. His giggle was a mixture of gulping snot and the snorting of a pig.

"NO! NO!" Edith screamed. "STOP!" Her arms and legs strained with the effort as she tried uselessly to twist away from the stubby, groping fingers.

Dr. Valentine spread his legs even wider, settled back in his large chair, and sighed with ecstasy at the sight of Edith struggling helplessly. He stroked his fingers through his kneeling captive girl's long, silky blonde hair. She serviced him with her ruby lips as he enjoyed Edith's sobbing cries and screams, and the sensual feel of his girl's fingers caressing his cock and balls.

Borga reached up and petted Edith's quivering belly, nuzzling his head against the inside of her thighs, sniffing and rubbing his nose against her crotch. He stepped back and lifted the hem of her gown again. His scissors nibbled into the cloth, snipping away a fragment about an inch square. Bit by bit, with unhurried technique, pausing occasionally to step back and admire his artistry, he snipped away at her wedding costume and frilly lace petticoat. As minutes melted together into an hour, tiny piece by tiny piece around the perimeter of her gown disappeared, exposing an ever rising view of Edith's shapely legs in white silk stockings. Her frail, lacy fortress of modesty was gradually breached with delightful ease. In the first half-hour, one foot of her beset wedding gown and petticoat lay in pieces like erotic confetti on the polished marble floor under her scandalously widespread legs. At the end of the hour, her alluring knees came into view. Borga ducked under her shortened gown, reaching up to caress the crotch of her panties. She screamed and desperately thrashed against her chains, frantically trying to escape his touch. Borga giggled and moved out from under her, grinning and winking at his master and the two men. The butler standing at the door had unbuttoned his fly, also grinning as he fondled his throbbing cock.

"I'm sure by now, my dear," Dr. Valentine said with a shake of his head and a shaming 'tsk-tsk', "that you can feel the cool draft of air on your disgracefully exposed legs. How could you degrade yourself by inviting my servant, Borga, to touch your most intimate and desirable treasure?"

B-b-but," She stammered, "I didn't! I couldn't-I can't stop him!" Her head tipped back as she wailed. "Oh, please, please! Someone help me!""Ann," the 'Fat-Boy' sung out and her body stiffened. He waited a moment before turning a lumbering head and settling his hollow eyes on her quaking body. "Ann, you're up. Get in the game, girl!" he called out again and somehow she got her legs to respond. She walked up to the back of his chair as he turned back to the screens. "Take your clothes off. Mr. Pendfold needs a hand." He tapped one of the monitors with his pencil. "Office #6; second floor."

She looked around helplessly. The clothes rack was along the side wall and taking a breath, she unbuttoned her blouse. Christ, she thought as she unzipped her skirt, why the hell did I wear pantyhose? She folded her skirt and placed it on a hanger. The 'Fat-Boy' didn't seem to be watching so she peeled off her hose and underpants, then unhooked her bra, balled everything together and placed them on the top rack. The concrete floor was cold and she was glad to get back into her high heels.

Ann stepped back toward the 'Fat-Boy' and he half turned to her, eying her nakedness momentarily before resuming his careful surveillance of the monitors. He must have spotted her knees quaking because he seemed to soften. "It's Mr. Pendfold," he repeated in a quiet voice. "He's ok; a gentleman. You'll be ok."

"Thank you," Ann whispered back. And picking up her laptop, she stepped out the door and walked toward the stairs at the end of the corridor.

No one was there to see, but she had never felt more naked. Completely exposed. She was conscious of every movement; every jiggle of flesh; every slip and slide of skin. Her heart was pounding by the time she reached the second floor. She was horrified when she opened the fire door and saw two men at the far end of the hallway, but they seemed too consumed in a heated discussion to notice a naked new girl as she searched for office #6. Luckily it was only two doors along and taking a breath to steady her nerves, Ann tapped lightly and slipped through into the office.

It was a long, narrow room and Mr. Pendfold didn't look up from his desk as she made her way forward on teetering heels.

"You requested some help?" she ventured as she got closer.

"Yes, my dear," he answered kindly and she felt her spirits lift. "Just a couple of letters typed, if you could."

"Certainly, sir," Ann replied, eying the small secretarial desk. It was an odd little desk, custom built from cheap veneer, the seat was positioned very low with a gentle backward slope. Her skin squeaked embarrassingly on the varnished wood when she slipped into place and she held her laptop to her chest to cover her breasts. When she tried to settle-in, Ann found that the seat tilted her back onto her tail bone and lifted her thighs. She got the odd feeling that she was taking off; in an airplane. The desk top was small, just large enough to hold her laptop, and it was positioned higher than necessary giving an unhindered view underneath. When she swiveled her legs under and placed her feet on the built-in bar, Ann found that it too was slanted, sides like a little peaked rooftop. With a foot on each side of the ridge, it was difficult to keep her knees pressed together. The desk was positioned directly in front of Mr. Pendfold and she felt the heat rise in her neck when she realized that she was on display. When he looked up he would have a lusty view up between her legs.

He shuffled papers and marked corrections with a yellow pencil. "You're new..." he said, keeping his eyes lowered.

"Yes, sir," Ann offered without explanation. "First day on the job."

"You are a most pleasingly attractive girl and you will pardon me if I say... you don't seem to belong here."

"Thank you," Ann replied, studying his features. He had a kindly face, grandfatherly, and she placed his age at close to seventy. "And you also," she hesitated at her own boldness. "You are not what I expected, Mr. Pendfold."

His deep chuckle fortified her. "Dear-o-dear. I'm just a silly old man, though, aren't I? But my heart still flutters at the sight of a lovely young girl; the curve of an ankle; slope of her breast. I apologize if I offend, dear."

"No, of course not, sir." Ann found herself warming to him.

"Oh please, please call me Joseph," he smiled and finally looked up, catching her eyes with a twinkle. She returned his smile and swallowing hard, she lowered the laptop from her chest and placed it on the small desktop in front of her. "Yes, yes," he continued. "You are most agreeable, quite lovely. But tell me child, how do you come to be here in this den of deviants?"

"Simple, I guess. My husband and I need the money. We took an easy loan and bought our first house. Well you know how it went; things slipped south awfully quickly. Dave lost his job and the bank is foreclosing. We've got no income, nothing to sell except... well, this..." she faltered, glancing down at her bare chest and fighting the flood of tears.

"Now, now," he soothed, holding up a gnarled hand. "No tears. I need you clear and focused; work is at hand!"

"I'm so sorry," she apologized. "Please forgive me. What is it you would like me to help you with?"

"Just some typing if you could; a couple of letters."

"Certainly." And steadying herself, Ann lifted the lid of her laptop and opened a new word document. She didn't look up when he slid his chair back to stand. She was holding her breath as he moved in closer and was surprised and relieved when he didn't touch her. He placed his letters down in front of her, clarified a few points and then returned to his desk. Ann started to type. She knew he was studying her body as she worked, checking the slight sway of her breasts as her hands moved about the keyboard; the slight quiver of thigh as she shifted her knees. But somehow it didn't seem to matter. She was mature enough to know that she was here to provide pleasure and, somehow, she felt grateful to be in a position to do it. Ann actually felt a shiver of excitement, knowing she was pleasing him and her body began to respond.

She finished his letters and unabashedly stood from behind her desk and placed her laptop in front of him so he could check her work. He asked for a few changes and she leaned over him to make the additions. He smiled happily as she finished up. "Print me off two copies of each and leave them with Reena at the front desk before you leave for home," he instructed. And that was it! Ann was finished!

She closed her laptop and turning, headed for the door. It didn't bother her in the least to know that as she walked away, his eyes were focused on her behind.

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