It's FINALLY here - the naughtiness that happens in Albrecht Stables finally comes to a climatic end. (18+ Audience Only)
Blurb:Will Mark Matthews accept Redcliff's terms for his daughter's release, surrendering both body and mind to the enemy? Petal's sanity depends upon the fact, for in the sixth and final book of the Pony Tales she is to discover that the fate in store for her at Albrecht is not a pretty one. Shipped off to Leyland Forbes in a steel cage, the pony-girl will have to endure all sorts of imaginative bondage and BDSM at his palatial manor, as her body is photographed intimately by several of the world's top photographers. As the day progresses she will find herself taken out to dinner in chains, before being cleverly and expertly divested of her virginity. Trouble awaits when she returns to the stables, however. One of the trainers has taken a monstrous dislike to her and intends to prove his superiority, both in the dungeon and beyond. Escape for Jenny is beginning to seem like an impossible dream...
If you want me to utter that safe word, you’re going the wrong way about it,” breathed Jenny, who was still struggling to rub her body against his.
He barked out a laugh. “Oh you’ll utter your naughty little word before the night is out,” whispered Mark, nuzzling his lips against her neck, “but at the moment, I want to lick, bite, nibble, pinch, tweak and chew every inch of you. She made a face at him and he shook his head, amused. “Relax, you’ll enjoy it.” She narrowed her eyes at that. “OK,” he amended, “you’ll enjoy most of it.”
Whatever Jenny’s reply to his comment might have been was lost, for his mouth descended quickly upon her sex and employed every trick in the book to get her to panting level in record time. When she’d reached the ‘ten-seconds-to-blast-off’ point, he abruptly stopped and moved on to other ‘less sensitive’ body parts. She made lots of funny gurgling noises, and some interesting Kung Fu moves against his knot-work, but ultimately, she just had to wait and endure. He planned to cover her entire body with his tongue-work and lips, and he started high, tracing the delicate lines of her cheekbones, the ridge of her lips, the line of her nose, and the arch of her neck. Nipping at the tightly pointed buds of her nipples and palpating the soft flesh of her abdomen, he then moved to bite the tender inner flesh of her thighs and tongue a wavy line of worship down to her ankles. He sucked toes, pretty little red-tipped toes that were stretched high in the air, and then he got down low and traced a path around her plugs with his tongue. Under her arms, over her shoulders, down to her tight little waist, he suckled, blew, kissed and even hummed tunes against her skin. She smelled divine. She tasted better. It was a shame she was not edible, for he could have eaten her whole. When he had covered her body from top to bottom at least twice, only then did he return to his shot glass.
With his long fingers, he gently pried the glass loose from the tight confines of her pussy, not able to contain his smile of satisfaction when she groaned at its removal. “You like being filled.” It was a statement, not a question, which was just as well, because he didn’t get an answer. “Do you like being stretched, I wonder?” Inserting the middle and index finger of his right hand into her dripping wet channel, he began to stretch the soft, wet walls of her sex. There was another groan. “I guess I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured. Making slow scissor motions with his fingers, he began to stretch the tight flesh of her pussy, opening her up. “Can you guess what I’m going to do next?” With his fingers still slipping and sliding inside her, he held up his shot glass and twirled the remaining liquid around. “You only get one guess, Princess.”
“Oh God, please tell me you’re not,” said Jenny, who spoke thickly and with stilted pauses. His fingers appeared to be quite the distraction.
“Oh,” breathed Mark happily, “I’m afraid I am.” Tilting the glass to a forty-five degree angle he let it hover for just a second, and as soon as Jenny grimaced and closed her eyes, he slowly began to pour.
“It’s still warm,” she whimpered in a pained voice.
“It’ll be nothing compared to the temperature I’m about to rocket you up to, given a couple of a minutes.”
“How are you going to get that out again? You can suck it out, surely?” Jenny opened one eye at him and gave him a nasty look.
“We’ll have to hope, for your sake, that I can. Otherwise I’ll be searching the apartment up and down for a straw, and then I might get distracted and feel the need to blow bubbles.”
She gave a horrified shudder beneath him, but then his mouth was upon her and it was all about pleasure. He flipped the stereo on with his spare hand and the shuffle function found the ‘Flower duet,’ from the opera ‘Lakmé’ which usually reminded him of the British Airways commercial, but tonight he had other things on his mind. It was a strangely appropriate piece, but he hadn’t the time to consider the intricacies of opera at the moment. He was focused. He had his goal in sight and he was nothing if not an overachiever.
He suckled, tongued, stroked and slurped. Light trickles of Sambuca ran into his mouth, flavoured with her unique, spicy essence that made the subtle hint of elderflower and the strong tang of liquorice seem like nectar from the Gods. Speaking of Gods, she tasted heavenly. Earthy, musky, flowery, and there was a hint of sweetness he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She seemed to have a particular scent and taste that drove him wild, and tonight, he intended to indulge himself. She wouldn’t be getting a sip of this particular vintage. This was all for him and he savoured each drop. When her thighs began trembling beneath his hands, he increased the suction of his mouth and captured her clit. In a few artful flicks, he had her screaming and then he could wait no longer. He was inside her. With long, tortured thrusts of urgency, he finally found solace within her body. She squeezed him tightly, somehow remembering what she had been taught and as he ran his fingers up and down her body, caressing and stroking her arms, breasts and thighs, he lost himself. One moment he was a sensible, control-freak style dominant and in the next he was a rutting beast. He needed to pull himself back and rein it in, or this session would not end as planned.
Pulling out of Jennifer Redcliff’s body was one of the hardest things he had ever done. Considering how long it had taken him to immerse himself inside it, it was hardly surprising. Breathing hard, he withdrew his aching cock, and it was clear she felt the same way for her body tried desperately hard to hold on to him. “They’ve taught you well, I see,” he said with a sardonic smile, as he finally gathered his breath back.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
“I’m that good, huh?”
Get Your Copy of the TIES THAT BIND here.
Get Your Copy of the TIES THAT BIND here.
Imaginative Bondage - Jenny is about to find herself centre stage in Leyland Forbes palatial mansion as he works to entertain his guests in what will be the BDSM party of the century. She will find herself sprayed up in body paint and forming part of a moving exhibition - a carousel - before being dipped several feet underwater for experimental underwater games.
Marianna and the 'No Panties' rule - What happened to Marianna after we left her in Atlantisse? Well, she's about to feature as a human dessert plate for the entertainment of Mark Matthews and a few others, besides. Then, when she arrives back at the office, she will have to face her 'no panties' punishment - which involves her walking around the office with... yes, you've guessed it... her panties around her ankles.
Mark and Jenny - Finally some alone time for Mark and Jenny! Lots of shocking, naughty games ensue and she'll have a rather intimate experience with a shot glass. A safe word will be chosen and Mark will do all he can to make sure that it is uttered before the evening comes to a close.
Redcliff - This man wants to watch Mark squirm, and preferably at his feet. The tactics he will employ to make sure that will happen are going to make your eyes water!
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A little bit about Christina Mandara: Christina Mandara was born in the UK, but has spent most of her life travelling the world. She speaks three languages and has been chiefly employed in the fields of finance and travel. Her favourite city is Sydney and her favourite holiday destination is the south of France. She loves keeping fit and enjoys running, cycling and water sports. No, not those kinds of water sports; think surfing or sailing. That doesn't mean that she doesn't enjoy BDSM in all of its glorious forms, be that pony girls, bondage, edge play, orgasm denial or a damn good spanking. Her favourite item in the toy closet (a box simply isn't big enough) is her riding crop. In her spare time she's usually cuddled up with a good book, exploring the countryside or baking in the kitchen. In fact, she loves her kitchen so much she's one of few woman who wouldn't mind being tied to it! Her first and foremost love is writing, however, and more often than not you'll find her on a laptop spinning tales of romance, erotica or dark, paranormal fantasies.
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