Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Karen Mercury getting naughty with The Good Switch!

If you're in the mood for public exhibition, flogging, forced seduction, and role play with a happily ever after, don't miss The Good Switch!

expensive business suit, and Natasha wants to restore order to the chaos that has become of her life. Ari’s brand of domination equals security and safety for her.
Natasha Woolf’s delinquent teen son is giving her nothing but headaches. Enter Ari Braverman, politician turned powerful food critic, and she welcomes the help. Ari is a charismatic, cultured silver fox in an
After a nasty breakup in Washington, D.C., Ari hesitates to accept a new submissive. But he discovers the spitfire restaurant owner has a feisty side that refuses to offer total surrender, and he’s surprised that her rebel play turns him on.
When his old girlfriend Kelly pops up begging to reconcile, Ari sends the ex-sub packing. Kelly worms her way into the graces of politicos supporting his Congressional bid, with deadly intentions for the sub who has taken her place. Natasha must fight tooth and nail to prove she is…The Good Switch.

Hot Excerpt-

She stammered, “You’ve never…brought anyone here?”
“Never,” was all he’d say, and he reached behind a ceramic pot that sat on top of the low wall. “The Sandbox people told me where to get these cuffs and other…things.”
Nipple clamps. Natasha was in her element with that implement, and she looked down with interest as Ari slid the tweezer clamps onto her nipples with surgical precision. His gaze flickered back and forth from her face to her nipple, then back to her face. No doubt he was gauging her reaction to the varying tension of the clamps. She writhed, gritting her teeth and arching her neck, and he must have liked what he saw, for he left the clamps tight.
He sat back between her thighs to regard her with amusement. She snarled through her clenched teeth, snorting and bucking like a caged feline. “Do it, you bastard,” she seethed, like an actress in an exorcism movie.
Ari drew himself up. “Whoa, whoa! Who holds all the cards around here, young missy? I don’t think you’re in any position to issue orders. This deserves punishment.” Magically, from behind the same pot Ari revealed a pair of scissors, and with one snip he easily did away with the strip of panty shielding her pussy.
He admired the view while she undulated her spine mightily, like the swells of a stormy ocean. She just wanted him to touch her! Make me come, you bastard! Fuck me in the mouth or pussy! Just do something! Stop teasing me! But she knew this was part of clit torture, and she shouldn’t have been surprised when he swished several fingers quickly over her extended, swollen clit. Of course she jumped about a foot in the air and had to clench her jaw so tightly it hurt. Again and again he swiped his fingers, just enough to set her utterly on edge.
She could have safeworded, of course. She could have even crawled up the side of the wall and leaped over it. She could have brought her bound hands around her front and diddled herself into ecstasy. But this was part of the game, remaining at his beck and call, and Natasha loved it. Every time he brushed the flats of his fingers across her throbbing clitoris she cried out involuntarily and writhed even more furiously. She was trying to kiss the sky with her cunt, shaking and shimmying every time he so much as brushed his hand anywhere near her pussy. Yet he kept it soft enough to guarantee she’d never be able to come.
She shouted through her clenched teeth. “Ari...” Her warning tone did nothing to speed up his toying with her. Her pussy’s inner walls clutched at nothing hollowly, and her helplessness only heightened the anticipation. Would he turn her over his knee, like he had in her office? Would he lightly stroke her cunt, or would he choose the more severe option?
“You’ve got a lovely pussy,” he said now. He smiled, so relaxed, while she just wanted to scream and tear his—or her own—hair out! He gave her clit three or four serious, sensuous strokes of the thumb. Ten more of those and she would’ve been crashing into the heavens with a thunderous orgasm. But Ari seemed to know this. Even more casually now, he removed his tie slowly. “I think I came up with the right word for you. Firecracker. I can just tell that when I allow you to come you’ll just explode. You’re like a live wire, just crackling with electricity. You love being played with, don’t you?”
Natasha did explode then. “Ari! Will you hurry the fuck up?” She knew this would gain her more punishment, but it would probably be the sort she liked.
She was right. Again he frowned, twining his necktie around his knuckles. He tensed the silk between his hands, uncaring if he was ruining the Italian material. “You’re just a fresh, saucy little lady, aren’t you? I’m going to have to do something about that mouth on you.” And with one fluid motion, he kneeled over Natasha and whipped the tie around the back of her skull. A few simple knots and she was completely gagged. She whinnied like a horse and thrashed her head back and forth, but he had expertly prevented her from notifying his neighbors of their games.
Once more he reached behind the pot and withdrew what looked like a little riding crop. Aha. She was familiar with this item, too. It was a “flapper,” a combination of a flogger and a crop, with four leather falls that could be teased lightly or thwacked. Natasha fell silent and stopped writhing with anticipation of what might come next. She panted through her nostrils, her eyes burning.
There it was—the arrogant, smoldering flash in his eyes. She’d known it was there from the stories she’d heard about the trauma room, the brass balls, the ambitious barracuda. He claimed he’d mellowed out, but she didn’t think anyone ever lost that drive, that determination, that quest for power. His eyes narrowed and he slapped her labia with the flapper. It made a sharp crack there in the still courtyard air.
“You need to remember your place, woman.” Thwack. Again and again he slapped her, in such a precise way that every slap got her juices flowing even more. Smack. Not too hard, and definitely not too soft, Ari flogged her pussy in exactly the right manner. Every smack brought her higher and higher up the cliff. He continued the teasing, the torture he’d started with his fingers, only now he upped the ante. He smacked her pussy loudly and now he reached out and diddled her constrained nipple. That was when she screamed.

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