Princess's Pet: A FemDom Tale (Amy's Bitch Book 11) - PDF free download eBook

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  • Published: 14.02.2019
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Introduction

Nadia - Princess Nadia to submissive Brian - is that rare thing, a naturally dominant woman. For someone who never dominated a man before, she sure picked it up quickly. While Brian's slut...

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Details of Princess's Pet: A FemDom Tale (Amy's Bitch Book 11)

Original Title
Princess's Pet: A FemDom Tale (Amy's Bitch Book 11)
Edition Format
Kindle Edition
Number of Pages
19 pages
Book Language
English
Ebook Format
PDF, EPUB

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Princess's Pet: A FemDom Tale (Amy's Bitch Book 11)

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Some brief overview of this book

Nadia - Princess Nadia to submissive Brian - is that rare thing, a naturally dominant woman. For someone who never dominated a man before, she sure picked it up quickly. While Brian's slut wife Amy spends the weekend submitting sexually to her asshole boss, Brian suffers his greatest - and most public - humiliation yet as Nadia takes him shopping.If there's a depth these d Nadia - Princess Nadia to submissive Brian - is that rare thing, a naturally dominant woman.

For someone who never dominated a man before, she sure picked it up quickly. While Brian's slut wife Amy spends the weekend submitting sexually to her asshole boss, Brian suffers his greatest - and most public - humiliation yet as Nadia takes him shopping.If there's a depth these dominant women won't force him to sink to, they haven't found it yet. "You've got him well trained", the saleswoman said in awe.

I watched as Nadia surreptitiously fished the remote from her remaining boot and slipped it into her purse. "Oh, that's nothing", she bragged. "Shoe boy.

No hands this time". The saleswoman gasped audibly. I could hear her colleagues crowding around as I bowed my head, my cock throbbing in cage and panties as my face drew within inches of my Princess's divine pussy.

Nadia smiled as my lips fumbled against her smooth skin, and lost in submission, I allowed myself a tender kiss on her thigh before finally taking the zipper between my teeth. Slowly, my hands clasping one another behind my back, I drew the zipper down to her foot. Then, taking her heel carefully between my lips, I pulled the boot off and dropped it to the floor.

Smugly, Nadia tugged on my leash. "Now, the new ones", she ordered softly. I tried to keep my hands steady as I complied, lifting the sexy red shoes from their box and slipping them on to Nadia's feet one by one, watching eagerly for that forbidden flash of panties as she moved her legs.

With the shoes on, she stood, towering over me as I stayed on the floor. She didn't walk across the shoe store; she glided. It never ceases to amaze me how women walk in very high heels, never mind how graceful and sexy they look while doing it.

Nadia walked as though she was born in heels, her body swaying seductively with each long stride. The heels had to be six inches tall and thin as the stem of a wine glass, but she pivoted and turned like a gymnast on a balance bar. Returning to where I kneeled, awestruck, she turned again, raising one foot high and rapping the heel against the laminate floor with a sharp crack, as if to punctuate her performance.

I felt like applauding as she struck a pose. "They look fabulous on you", the saleswoman said. "How do they feel?" "Like a million bucks", Nadia grinned.

"I'll take them". She sat on the bench again, a red heel pointing like a dagger at my heart as she stretched out her long leg. Without further instruction, I gently removed the proffered shoe and returned it to the box, repeating the procedure with her other foot.

"Boots", Nadia said curtly, and my cock spasmed in its tiny prison as I slid the soft leather back on to her legs, the zipper groaning as I drew it from her foot to her thigh, hell to heaven and back again as the boots grew tight against her. Finally, she crossed her legs again, smiling down at me. "Well, shoe boy", she gently mocked.

"Go pay the lady". The saleswoman tried and failed to stifle a laugh as I awkwardly stood and followed her to the register, the leash dangling from my collar. I handed her my credit card, the smile never leaving her lips as she ran it through.

The register spat out a receipt, and she slipped it inside the string-handled bag before handing it to me. "Your wife certainly, uh, keeps you on a short leash", she said, her lips quivering with suppressed laughter as her co-workers snickered behind her. My shame burned hotter than the sun.

"She's not my wife", I mumbled. I held one side of the bag, but the saleswoman was reluctant to let go of her side. "Your girlfriend, then", she persisted.


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