Today's guest is long-time Black Lace stablemate (and now Sinful Press buddy) Justine Elyot with her brand new, published-just-today book The Story of Jo:
“I met a man called Emmett, and now I belong to him.”
Twenty-something Jo meets Emmett on a team-building course, and her initial disdain for him soon turns into attraction.
With Emmett’s strong but loving hand to guide her, Jo unleashes her inner submissive and they embark on an intense voyage of sexual discovery. Their mutual fascination sees them exploring bondage, spanking, toys and more, and their romance is as perfect as Jo could hope for, until another man appears on the scene.
She knows that Emmett hero-worships his former boss and mentor, Charles, but when she finds out that Charles is the man who introduced Emmett to the art of domination, she has no idea how to feel.
With fierce desire growing between the three of them, can they find a way to explore this new dynamic without destroying what they already have?
The flogging seemed to go on forever, with Emmett whipping me up into burning heat and sting, but the pain was nothing compared to the challenge of Fox’s implacable gaze. I wanted desperately to hide from it, but there was nowhere to run.
Instead, I had to accept that he was watching and enjoying my humiliation, as well as adding to it with his clear appreciation. Which was crueller—the man who whipped, or the man who watched?
As my merciless husband laid stroke after stroke, I howled and whimpered, the sounds squeezed out from a captive jaw.
“You need this,” said Fox, as the first tear fell. “Don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I wailed, trying hard to move my body, but restrained at every turn.
“Do you deserve it?”
“Yes, yes, I deserve it,” I hissed. I was becoming something less than human, something purely submissive and sexual.
Emmett laid several evil strokes on my exposed inner thighs, then he moved between them. My clit was so swollen and wet that the whip felt good, almost orgasmic, against it.
“Oh God,” I moaned. “I can’t…”
Emmett went back to my bottom, which must have been as red as it could possibly be by now. It was so incredibly sore, and yet I felt nowhere near safewording. I was locked into Fox’s laser stare, powerless to break out.
He rose from his chair and grabbed my hair, in the way Emmett had done, then kissed me ravishingly while Emmett finished up on my behind. My tears spilled on to his cheeks and ran down his nose while his tongue plunged inside my mouth.
I clung to his shirt, holding him near me, rapt and lost in the sensation.
Emmett laid aside his whip. Fox broke the kiss.
I lay, panting and burning, between them. I had crossed the boundary of fear. I was in the realm of pure submissive bliss.
“Come and look at her arse,” invited Emmett brokenly. “That’s red for you.”
“Incredible,” said Fox. “Judging by the state of her down there, she’s ready for a good seeing to.”
“Weren’t we going to…first…?”
“Yes, yes. I’m ahead of myself. Right.”
Fox came back round and sat in his chair. I could see the great bulge in his suit trousers and thought it must be uncomfortable for him, but I didn’t have too much sympathy to spare when my own pussy was absolutely dripping.
“Remember,” he said. “Eye contact. I’ll hold you in place if necessary, but I think it’s time you tried to obey without help. Hold out your hands to me.”
I quickly wiped my damp cheeks with the backs of them, then gave them up to Fox, who held my fingers. Once we were linked, Emmett moved in between my legs and began to touch me, slowly, teasingly, tracing out the line of my labia with his fingertips.
I sighed gently. Fox smiled, enjoying my helplessness, stroking my fingers.
“Is that good?” he whispered.
Emmett rubbed my clit and I moaned in gratitude.
“Take that as a yes,” said Fox dryly.
“Yes, sir,” I groaned.
The eye contact maintenance was hard; they were rolling back and sideways and all over as Emmett settled into a slow, steady rhythm. He introduced one finger, then two, then three, into my vagina, but he didn’t thrust. They were there as a marker, a reminder of what I was going to get.
I was barely in need of any stimulation at all—it was a matter of a minute, maybe two, before I felt the approach of a shattering orgasm.
I think Emmett could feel the first flutters against his seated fingers. Still stroking away at my clit, he asked me if I was close.
“Yes, yes, sir,” I said.
Fox pinched my fingers, and I tried hard to focus on him, but everything was beginning to blur.
“You know what you have to do, pet,” Emmett reminded me.
“I know, I know, please, sir, may I come?”
“Who are you asking?” Fox leant forward, his gaze bearing down hard on me.
“You, sir, you and…both…everyone…please…oh God.”
“No,” said Fox, and I let out a loud moan of despair.
“Joking,” he said. “Go on then, just this once.”
He dropped my fingers and cupped my lower face in both hands, keeping my eyes full on him as my climax gushed down and out of me. The enormity of the feeling was unlike anything I’d experienced before, and it precipitated me into a flurry of tears. He kissed them all away, with passion, while Emmett fell to his knees and kissed my pussy and clit. I felt cocooned in tenderness, loved and adored beyond dreams.
Fox found my lips and kissed me hard and hungrily throughout the vigorous fucking Emmett then subjected me to. Each thrust pushed me into Fox’s face, and slapped up against my stinging bottom. I clung blindly to Fox’s shirt, bunching it in my fists. He was my support and my strength, just as much as Emmett was now. The bond was forged.
Buy The Story of Jo at:
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