BookShop News: With This Ring

With This Ring  is a romp that can best be described as a BDSM wedding fantasy!

Stephen, a submisisve who enjoys humilation, has been visiting Brenda, his favourite Dominatrix for some time.

One day she casually announces they should get married!

Stephen discovers it is not a good idea to decline a proposal from a skilled and ruthless dominatrix like Brenda!

(22,046 words  €7.50 – Discount available for newsletter subscribers)

To purchase and download, go here.


‘I think,…’ Brenda said, ‘…we should get married.’
It was a provoking statement and delivered with a studied nonchalance.
Stephen could not answer, even if he wanted to, as he was in a position that permitted absolutely no movement and, more importantly, no speech.
Completely naked, Stephen’s wrists were cuffed behind his back and his elbows painfully forced together with a leather strap Belinda had buckled tightly with her usual aplomb.
On his knees on the hard tiled floor, his thighs were pushed apart with a chrome spreader bar with leather straps at each end. Again, Brenda had buckled the straps of the leather bar quite tightly and the leather constantly pinched Stephen’s tender thighs.
Brenda had not stopped there and Stephen’s ankles were also forced open with another, albeit smaller, spreader bar. If it wasn’t for the noose around his throat connected to the wall frame and the anal hook also connected to the frame, Stephen would have toppled over and fallen on his face and on his hard, dripping cock!
Stephen also wore a hood which dehumanised his face and made his rapidly blinking eyes appear wider and, perhaps, even more afraid.
He could see and could hear but he could not talk as his mouth was distended by the inflatable gag. The tube and bellows for that gag was hanging against his bare, hairless chest.
It was superb bondage and completely restricted Stephen with tightness and a low but annoying constant pain.
His knees ached from kneeling on the hard surface, the rope around his throat chafed, the silver anal hook held him in position with a painful surety and his jaw ached from being forced open for such a long period.
Brenda sat in a comfortable armchair, occasional table to her left with wineglass, ashtray, rolled gold cigarette case and a very ornate gold cigarette lighter.
She was very comfortable while Stephen was clearly not in any state of comfort. His bondage was inescapable.
Brenda left nothing to chance, which is why she was the most successful professional dominatrix in London. Originally from New York, Brenda had found her niche in London and had settled there five years previously.
It was also why Stephen, a successful business man in the vanilla world and a very submissive bottom in the fetish world, had paid outrageous sums for intense sessions with Brenda over the past three years.
Brenda lit a cigarette and, under the hood, Stephen flinched. He knew that Brenda did not ordinarily smoke and the cigarette would become an instrument of exquisite torture.
Stephen still had some small circular marks on his shoulders from Brenda’s cigarettes. The consummate professional, Brenda knew to leave marks that would fade quickly but linger long enough for the sub to remember the session for a few hours afterwards.
‘It makes perfect sense, bitch,’ Brenda said with a small smile. ‘You need me and we are perfect together. Some dudes could even call that fucking romantic! Jesus, if I keep talking about hearts and flowers, I may cry!’
Nothing, of course, was further from the truth as Brenda smiled.
She held the burning end of the cigarette over Stephen’s left nipple, causing him to writhe on the anal hook until Brenda saw tears glistening in his eyes. Always the consummate professional, Brenda held the glowing end of the cigarette over that now red and quivering nipple for a few more seconds before removing it.
Stephen was forty-three years old, single and held a high position within one of the big three global accountancy firms.
At just twenty nine years of age, Brenda was curvy and very sexy when she wanted to be, elegant and reserved when required.
Most of the time though, she was domineering and controlling as well as quite cruel to her eager submissive clients who paid handsomely for her detailed attention.
‘Every girl wants to get married,’ Brenda said and, to Stephen’s relief, stubbed the cigarette out in an ashtray.
She picked up her wineglass, sipped and pushed the heel of her black stiletto into Stephen’s plump balls.
He moaned in the gag and Brenda’s eyes shone when she heard the sound.
‘Did that hurt? You’d better not come on my shoes, bitch! I’ll cut your balls off if you do!’
Part of Brenda’s appeal to her steady submissive clientele was her New York accent, her relentless, no holds barred cruelty and her constant and quite imaginative abuse and threats.
Most of her clients were wealthy businessmen in the city, men that had achieved high positions in the commercial world and who were well educated.
As usual, Brenda was superbly dressed in a sensual black cocktail dress. The garment was tight and the hem ended mid-thigh so Stephen could gaze upon Brenda’s perfect, long legs in sheathed in sheer black nylon.
Stephen, like her other submissive clients had never seen Brenda naked, had never kissed her flesh and had found great joy in being able to, occasionally, kiss her shoes while wanking.
The fact that Brenda did not wear any fetish garments and always controlled her client’s sessions wearing a chic designer cocktail dress or an expensive business skirt and jacket, added to her appeal. Brenda did not even own a whip but she did have a rather interesting collection of canes!
The British submissive male, Brenda had discovered, had a fondness for the cane and many of her clients enjoyed being forced to lie over the vast desk in Brenda’s study and accept “six of the best”!
However, Brenda drew the line at dressing in a school uniform or any other costume. One submissive had the temerity to suggest Brenda wear the costume of an airline hostess. Brenda had simply ended the session, escorted the bewildered submissive to the door and told him that he had been expelled, that he could no longer pay to serve her.
The client had been distraught! He had sent roses, diamonds, perfume and airline tickets in an effort to persuade Brenda to see him again.
Brenda did not, although she kept the diamonds, the perfume and the airline tickets. She returned the roses. For some unknown reason, Brenda hated roses.
There were several captains of industry and other well-known and well respected businessmen who could not comfortably sit down after a session with Brenda and the cane!
‘I’ve never been married. Have you?’ Brenda asked idly, pushing the heel of her stiletto into Stephen’s stomach.
Stephen could not, of course, answer the question.
The pressure of the heel forced Stephen back slightly so the anal hook, wedged deep inside his bowels, moved sharply inside him, providing another painful reminder of his predicament.
Sweat was dripping from his forehead and running inside the hood, stinging his eyes. He couldn’t actually think straight as he was intensely aroused and floating deeply within his sub-space.
Brenda sipped the wine, glanced at the antique French wall clock hanging next to the Venetian mirror and carefully placed the half empty wineglass on the small table next to the gold cigarette case.
‘It appears our session is over,’ she said briskly.
Stephen felt a tremor of delighted anticipation as he knew that he would, at last, be permitted to orgasm.

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