Title: Sexed Into Submission
Author: Julie Bailes
Cover Design: MG Bookcovers
Release Date: August 14, 2014
***Contains BDSM material. Intended for mature audience only. NOT for the easily offended.***
The daughter of a house wife whore, and a screw-all-his-clients attorney, I learned early on that trust can’t be given and love doesn’t truly exist. Sure, maybe it exists in fairytales, but this is real life and it’s ugly. Love, lust, anger, and joy, emotions, in general, are for the weak and I don’t do them.
I’m a hell-on-heels heartbreaker who can’t be tamed, or so I thought. This dominating, possessive, and sinfully sexy piece of man storms into my life and his only mission is to break me down like a house of cards caught in the middle of a windstorm. Ryder is shaking my world, flipping it upside down, and stirring my emotions like a hurricane. I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before and doing things I normally don’t do. His touch, his presence, they leave me drunk on sin and thirsty for more.
This man, Ryder, he’s the type of man who once you’ve met, there’s no forgetting him. He’s the antidote that gets me by. We have a fatal attraction, and nothing good can come from it. All good things must come to an end, and it’s only a matter of time before we discover if what we’re sharing is a blessing or curse.
About the Author:
Julie resides in a small town in southern West Virginia with her high school sweetheart, and their three rowdy children. She has a passion for writing and helping others meet their maximum potential. With an unhealthy addiction to coffee and all things chocolate, she has developed a love for fitness. Even though she has city in her blood, Julie enjoys mudding, four wheeling, and hunting with her husband. On days she isn’t busy playing chauffeur or writing, you will most likely find her cuddled into her husband’s side reading a naughty book.
Other Books by Julie Bailes:
Sexed Into Submission
Love, it isn’t for me. Emotions, they’re for the weak. Me? I’m strong and independent, a woman who doesn’t need a man to make her feel secure. I make my own rules, and break those made by others. I’m rebellious and I don’t submit to anyone, except Dean. But, that’s only because he’s my boss. The daughter of a housewife whore and fuck-all-his-clients lawyer, I depend on no one but myself. My father was never home, always at a bar fucking any broad with a tan and fake tits. And my mother, well, she screwed anything with a third leg, muscles, and tattoos. I have both of them to thank for passing along the ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’ gene to me. Always fucking, never loving.
At sixteen my mother said to me, “Your body’s a Goddamn weapon, Piper. Flaunt it; use it to your advantage, and you’ll never want for anything.” Truer words have never been spoken. She fucking nailed it. I sat back and took notes as I watched her use her body to manipulate men, watched as each one gave her anything her slutty little heart desired.
“You’re up in ten, Piper,” Dean yells. Turning to examine myself in the mirror, I reach for the hairspray and sprits my hair. Using my fingers I ruffle it to give that messy, yet sexy, just fucked appearance. It drives these rich bastards crazy. I take the tube of lipstick and coat my full, fuck-me-now lips a bright whore red. Bending over to strap my hooker heels tight, I hear a snap, followed by a deliciously familiar sting to my left ass cheek. “You’re up, beautiful,” Candice winks. “Hey! How many times do I have to tell you… no foreplay before my show! Geez, Candy, you know how hard it is to keep grip on the pole when your thighs are all wet and slippery,” I joke.
The lights go out and my heels clink against the hardwood stage as I make my way front and center, ready to give these lucky son-of-a-bitches the show of their life. As I get into position, I gaze out into the crowd to see if it’s a full house, but all I’m able to see are dark shadows and the twinkling eyes of twelve or so men surrounding the edge of the stage. The red light above my head brightens, putting me in the spotlight right where I belong. I line my spine with the cool steel and reach my hands behind me to grip it securely. As I wait for my music to begin, I hear hoots and whistles, along with an impatient member who’s ready to get his dick up, bellow, “Come on, sweetheart, l want to see your sexy ass work that pole!” Ha! I assure you, there’s nothing sweet about me. My body, face, and smile… they’re tools to lure you cheating fucks into my trap. Build you up, fuck your brains out, and milk you for all you’re worth. That’s what I do. My pussy’s sweet as molasses, but my heart pumps vicious venom, or so I’ve been told.
The music begins to play, and red and white lights flash along with the beat. When the artist’s voice fills the room, the lights stop and black lights surround the stage, illuminating my white two-piece and shimmering bronzed skin. I snake myself down the pole and grind my hands along my body as I go. Whipping my hair around several times, I snake my way back up and climb the pole. I do my flips and spins, then slide to the floor and go into a side split. I use one hand to lift my hair up off my neck and the other to untie my top, remove it from my body, and place it between my teeth. Then, just like a cougar searching for her prey, I skim the crowd for the wealthiest prick to claim tonight. See, this isn’t your typical strip club. Dean’s strict about who he lets in here. Each persons a member, none of them accumulating less than six figures a year. Most of the men are in business suits, so it can be difficult to tell which one’s willing to make it rain. Fuck making it rain; I’m on the prowl for someone who’s willing to flood me with Benjamin’s.
Straight-ahead, dead center of the stage, I catch a glimpse of an unfamiliar face. He’s not a regular, and he’s not the typical type of man you’d see in here on a Thursday night. He’s dressed casually in a white button down shirt, no tie or jacket. And from here, he appears to be in his late twenties, not fifties like the rest of the crowd. Now, most of the men here are fairly handsome, but this man, he’s panty drenching sexy. His dark hair, broad muscular frame, and twinkling eyes are completely erotic.
As I dance around and own the stage, he nods his head for me to make my way to him. His eyes roam my body, almost as if he’s evaluating my moves instead of enjoying them. Since he’s new, and clearly the only man that doesn’t seem to appreciate my performance, I go over to show him some special attention. I get on my hands and knees and crawl to him, slowly and seductively.
When I’m to the edge of the stage I drop my top into his lap. I sit up and lean back onto my ankles. Then, I take my breasts into my hands and pull on my nipples as I roll my hips and stomach. The next time I look into his face, his teeth are latched onto his bottom lip, his arms are crossed, and he’s looking at me as if he’s challenging me to up my game. I’m not used to this sort of reaction. The men in this club drool over me, fall on their knees and worship me. What I should do is move along to the next man waving money toward me, but for some fucked up reason, I’m hungry for this assholes satisfaction.
Fuck it, I’m breaking the rules, but that’s nothing new. We’re not supposed to touch the members with your tits, ass, or pussy- unless they pay for a private show. But, desperate times call for desperate measures. Rolling onto my back, I scoot my ass to the edge of the stage, as close as I can get without falling off. I pull my legs together and point them to the ceiling, arch my back, and then I let them fall open to the side. We’re so close I feel his breath brush the inside of my thigh as he breathes. He wants a show, and dammit, I’m gonna give it to him.
When he least expects it, I take my long tan legs and wrap them around his neck, crossing my ankles behind his head. I use my arms to support my weight, and his shoulders as leg rests. I roll my body and thrust my hips while other members fill my bottoms with bills. My mystery man’s arms fall to his lap. His shoulders rise and fall rapidly as his breathing increases, and I can tell he’s biting his tongue, resisting the urge to lean up and taste my sweetness.
His glistening eyes are filled with lust and anticipation. And now that he’s finally enjoying the show, I can move along to give my faithful paying men and women the attention they deserve. Before I go, I tighten my legs and pull his face into my drenched middle, thrust my pelvis, and glide my pussy up his face before releasing him.
Finally, the music’s over and I can go back to shower and wait for Dean to hand over my money. He lets us keep everything we earn; the members pay more than enough in fees to keep this place up and running, not to mention Dean’s mansion and Ferrari. Some of the girls are in college and Dean wants them to be able to pay their tuition without taking out student loans, but most are like me, working with what we have while we have it. Our bodies won’t always be this glorious. One day, our ass will sag and our tits will drag the floor. Besides, why would anyone want to pay thousands of dollars for someone to have control over what they do, when to do it, and how it should be done? Fuck that, I don’t do well with authority. Plus, I’ve made enough money over the last three years that it’ll last me the rest of my life; more than most people will make working their entire life, even those who possess a fancy ass college degree.
I don’t have to worry about anything. I don’t have a house or car note, and my utilities are paid for by my father. All I’m responsible for are luxuries; coach purses, clothes, jewelry, and my biggest obsession- shoes. I don’t have to worry about buying attire for work, Dean takes care of us. He’s sort of our Hugh Heffner. He makes sure we’re taken care of. If we need anything, all we have to do is ask and we’ll receive. Surprisingly, we don’t have to fuck him for any of it. However, I’m sure any woman would be more than happy to do so if he asked. Hell, I believe I’m the only woman who’s refused him. Don’t get me wrong, Dean’s very attractive. He’s a successful, domineering male with dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and sun kissed skin. He’s solid muscle, and has a smile that will melt any woman’s panties within a ten mile radius. I’ve had my chances, and God knows Dean can pleasure a woman, but he’s the only man I can’t toy with. If I fuck him and leave him, that’ll be the end of my career.
“Piper, baby, come here for a minute,” Dean instructs as I’m drying myself. I remove the towel from my body and hair, and toss the soiled linens into the hamper and strut across the room toward Dean, completely naked. I’m not modest in the least. Hell, why should I be? Dean’s seen all of me before, and so have all the girls. When I’m at Dean’s side, I freeze when my eyes land on my mystery man. Dean lifts his arm and I cuddle into his side. He drapes his arm across my shoulder and leans down for a kiss. I give him a quick peck and turn my attention back to the glorious piece man before us.
“Piper, I’d like for you to meet my brother, Ryder.” Ryder, huh? Perfect name for what I want to do to him. Ride. Him. Hard. Ryder’s eyes follow the water droplets dripping down my body from my freshly washed hair. Dean clears his throat to grab Ryder’s attention, uncomfortable with another man ogling the woman he wishes were his. Dean pulls me closer into his side and kisses the top of my head. “As you know, the requests for people wanting a membership into Delectable Desire is getting longer, and we can’t continue to turn people away. Ryder has decided to hop on board and help us out. Now, I’m still your boss, but so is Ryder. He’s agreed to keep an eye on you girls while I attend to members out on the floor. If I’m not around and you need something, don’t hesitate to ask him.” I nod. “Of course. Welcome, Ryder.” I extend my hand to him and he eyes it questionably. “O-kay,” I mumble, retrieving my hand, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist.
“After the show you gave me out there, I believe I deserve something more personal than a fucking handshake. I mean, you did rub your pussy along my face,” he smirks. Before I say another word, I look up to Dean. He smiles down at me and nods, giving me approval to be my smart-ass self. “Something more personal?” I ask, taking a step closer to Ryder. “Um-hum,” he replies, flashing a cocky grin. “I’m going to go lock up. Piper, be nice,” Dean warns, leaving the two of us alone.
I take two more steps and close the gap between us. I feel his hardness protruding through his slacks. “Let’s see,” I ponder. I take a small step back and trail my acrylic nail down the center of his chest. I slide my hand down his bumpy abs and land on his hard, thick, and long cock. I massage his length over his pants. His eyes close and a low growl rumbles from the back of his throat. I lean up on my tiptoes, run my tongue up the side of his neck, and squeeze his dick. “That personal enough, boss man?” I whisper, nibbling his ear lobe. Suddenly, his hands are at the back of my head. Roughly, he yanks my hair and tilts my face up to his. Suddenly, my vindictive motives are jumbled together, and all I can think about is placing my hands on his shoulders, lifting myself off the ground, wrapping my legs around his waist, taking his throbbing cock deep into my pussy, and fucking him until my name’s the only name in his vocabulary.
Abruptly, he spins me around and presses me against the wall, positioning us so his front rests against my back. He pulls one of my arms behind my back and the other above my head, pressing it into the wall. Instinctively, I push my ass out and grind against him, and he pushes his hardness against me. “You like what you feel, Piper? You like feeling my response to you?” he asks, his voice cold, yet seductive. With the side of my face resting against the wall, I nod. He presses deeper into me and begins to nip at my neck, causing the heat between my legs to rise to combustible levels. He’s reversed our roles. I’m the one who is always in control. Remembering this, I fight to pull away.
He bites down on my neck, and what should’ve been a scream comes out a moan. “You like pain, Piper?” He pulls his hips back and thrust his hard dick against my ass once more, taking my breath away. “You will not tease me and get my dick hard in front of group of men, ever again. Understand, Piper?” Who the fuck does he think he is? I’m not his fucking puppet or property. “No. Actually, I don’t understand. You see, boss, I don’t take orders from anyone; especially from a cocky prick, such as yourself. And I’m sorry, but if a whiff of pussy was all it took to get your dick stiff, clearly you need to get laid more often,” I spit, frustrated by the way he’s affecting me. An evil chuckle escapes his lips. “Oh, Piper. You have a lot to learn, sweetheart. This,” he says, grinding into me even deeper, “it will not happen again, not without consequences.” He releases my arms and spins me around to face him, then he takes my chin between his strong fingers and lift my face. “See you soon, Piper,” he says against my lips. Then, he pulls his face away from mine, traces my bottom lip with his thumb, and disappears through the curtain that leads out to the stage. I don’t know who Ryder thinks I am, but I refuse to let him threaten me. I may have a pussy, but I refuse to be treated like one.
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