I’ve got two new short stories – Good Christian Girl Gone Bad: Ganged by the Frat & A Dripping Exam. Both will be available on Amazon for $0.99 till the end of June. After that, they will go back to regular price of $2.99.
Feeding the Frat will be available for FREE from Wednesday June 26th till the end of the month.
Good Christian Girl Gone Bad: Ganged by the Frat
A short excerpt from Good Christian Girl Gone Bad:
Halfway through my second glass of red, Jack suggested we play strip poker. I’d never played before, but they were so keen, and I thought, why the hell not.
It turned out that I was not very good at strip poker. In fact, pretty soon, my pumps had gone, and my stockings were in a little pile on the floor next to me.
“Three Kings!” said Chad, laying down his cards, triumphantly. I looked at my pair of Aces and sighed.
“So…what does that mean?”
“It means your dress has to go.”
“Really?”
They all nodded. Well, if those were the rules…I stood, a little unsteady and began to unzip my dress. I felt it slacken, and with some difficulty, I managed to slip out of it, letting it slide down my body to the floor. I stood there, in my thong and bra, blushing bright red. All four of them were gazing at me, as though mesmerized. No-one said anything. It was a weird sensation!
“Wow,” said Jack, eventually.
I blushed again and sat down. Mark passed me the wine bottle and I took another swig, giggling when a little trickled down my chin.
“Let me get that,” said Jack. Before I realized what he meant, Jack had leaned over and licked the sticky trail of wine from my face. It was the most incredible sensation. I was blushing so much, and I felt my body turn all tingly from his touch. I didn’t know what to say, but Jack just smiled, kissed me lightly on the lips and then picked up the cards and began to deal.
A few minutes later, I was once again staring at a terrible hand. A pair of eights. Did I dare risk it? The wine was making me bolder though, so I took a chance. I called. Mark laid down a full house. I closed my eyes. Now what was I going to do!
“Sorry Chas, but that bra has to come off!” said Joe.
“I…I can’t…”
A Dripping Exam
A short excerpt from A Dripping Exam:
Dr Smith was not what I imagined. He was tall. I’m not sure how tall, but he had to be 6’5” at least. And he was young. Late twenties at the most, with thick, luxurious hair, narrow hips, broad shoulders and a healthy tan. It took me a moment or two to regain my composure before I could speak to him.
“So, Dana, isn’t it?” he asked, as I sat on the other side of his desk.
“Yes…yes…I’m Dana,” I said, gushing like a schoolgirl.
“I see from the notes your doctor sent through that you’re having a little trouble with your breasts. Soreness? Heaviness and swelling? And leakage, I am guessing.”
I nodded, flushing red with embarrassment.
“Well I’ve some experience of dealing with this kind of problem, so I am sure we can help you. But before we start, do you mind if I examine your breasts?”
“No, not at all,” I said, a little too quickly.
“If you could lie on the couch,” he said, smiling. I did as I was told, lying flat on the couch, staring at the ceiling. I could feel my heart pounding. Dr Smith approached and began to touch my breasts through my blouse. Instantly I felt tingles through my body. He probed and pressed and explored and the feelings I began to experience were so intense that I had to close my eyes and bite my lip to avoid giving a gasp or a yelp. To my shame, I could feel that my nipples were beginning to leak a little. And they weren’t the only part of me that was starting to moisten.
“Hmmm,” said Dr Smith, concluding his examination. “I think I can see the problem. The good news is that we can treat them right away. That is, if you’re willing and have the time.”
I nodded, unable to get my breath back from his touching.
“Excellent. If you’d like to follow me.”
Dr Smith opened another door at the back of his consulting room and led me down a polished, plush corridor to a room with a red door. He unlocked the door, stepped aside and ushered me in.
At first, I didn’t know what to make of the room. It was kind of small, with tiny windows. In the centre of the room was a metal frame, with two parts, top and bottom, creating a sort of three-sided corral, of the type that you might see cattle herded into at a rodeo. There were straps fixed to the frame, and beyond it, a strange looking machine with wires and tubes attached.
“I…what is this?” I asked, bewildered. Dr Smith smiled.
“Don’t be alarmed. It is an unusual set-up, I agree, but then many of these experimental appear to be unconventional at first. It’s all scientifically rigorous and safe, I assure you.”
I wasn’t entirely reassured but I reasoned that if my own doctor had referred me here, it had to be legit. My faith began to waver, however, when Dr Smith told me I would have to undress.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m afraid clothes will make the treatment process impossible. It’s quite alright, I’ve seen thousands of people naked. You are completely safe here.”
A voice in my brain was telling me that I should probably just leave. But another voice was reminding me that my breast ‘problem’ had to be treated. And then there was the fact that Dr Smith was the most attractive person I had ever seen in my life.
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