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Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Blue Leaf Academy never prepared AV for anything like this! At the oh-so strict "finishing" school Blue Leaf Academy, rebellious Anne Victoria has been taught very strict obedience--to men. She has gone from being the unwilling slave of handsome, rich Ian McPherson, to his very willing slave. Then she is kidnapped by two brutal men who intend to ransom her back to McPherson. But in the meantime, they plan to use her to satisfy some very nasty desires. Although she has been trained to submit, Anne Victoria fights back. But she is overpowered and forced to submit to the men sexually. Then word comes back from McPherson. He refuses to pay one penny to ransom her and tells the men they can keep her! The two men decide to make her work out the ransom and pimp her out. Blue Leaf Academy never prepared AV for anything like this!
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: June 2009

4 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [60 KB]
Words: 12546
Reading time: 35-50 min.

CANDIDATE JOURNAL 3

DATE: April 1

DAY: Monday

TIME: 8:30 am

NAME: Anne Victoria Berkley-White

LOCATION WHERE THIS IS WRITTEN: At the moment I am in a huge bedroom in Montana. The walls are all exposed wood from the logs the house is built from. And don't jump to the conclusion that it's just a log cabin. It's mammoth. It's just made from flat logs. Ian told me that they are western red cedar and they do look red. He calls the house a lodge. I'm not sure how that's different from a house though. The ceilings are white and I guess plaster but with big open beams the same color as the walls. And there is a stone fireplace in the bedroom and a fire is blazing away in it right now.

WEARING: I'm wearing what I slept in last night. It's actually some sort of animal skin I think. But it is extremely soft and supple. It barely covers my ass cheeks and has fringe on the bottom. It's about like a shirt except that the tail is square instead of rounded. It buttons up the front and has a round neckline. And Ian also likes me barelegged in bed, no socks or anything of the sort.

RE: MEN: Ian seems to be the perfect gentleman. He is soft-spoken and very gentle with me. After the trip out here in his jet, and even though we actually arrived here at about the same time we left the east coast, I was tired. He made no demands on me what so ever.

RE: SEX: I'm still of a mind that I will do anything he asks of me. If he is as gentle and patient with me during sex as he has been otherwise, I'm really looking forward to it. Okay, I'll be honest. He can do anything he wants to me as long as it includes fucking me. I can't believe I just said that. But it is true. Although, I do hope that he doesn't ask me to give his horse a blow job, you know? Have you seen the cocks on those things?

DIARY: Ian McPherson. He is HOT! And he is old enough to be my father! That just doesn't matter at all. He is so kind. On the flight our here, he sat with me and we talked about books he'd read recently and about his ranches and that he is in the wool business. It's a family thing. His family owned a mill as he referred to it, in Scotland for four generations. They made thread from wool off sheep. But he explained that they bought the wool from Scottish farmers and just made thread or yarn. Then his grandfather expanded the business to include importing wool from Australia and other places. And he also started to produce wool fabrics and then even woven products like sweaters. Apparently the family was not too thrilled about the new direction his granddad took. When his father took over the firm, he sort of let things slip in those new areas. Then his father died suddenly. He didn't elaborate. Ian was only just out of college and it was his responsibility to take over the business. He said he not only rekindled all the activities that his granddad had started, but he bought the ranch in Montana and another in Australia. He brought Scottish sheep lines to both of them and now he says the business is vertically integrated from sheep to sweaters and kilts, whatever that means.

We arrived here about five or six in the evening yesterday. I was exhausted, considering the fact that on Saturday night I got two or three hours of sleep and then yesterday was three hours longer than normal days owing to the time change. I couldn't believe it, but I was taken to a spa of sorts just near here. I was given about twenty minutes in a steam room followed by a mud bath in some sort of special clay. Then after a shower, I was pummeled by expert hands. I could hardly walk afterward. I fell asleep in the car on the way back here from the spa. Someone, I'm assuming it was Ian carried me into the house and lay me on the bed. I slept until nearly eleven o'clock. When I awoke, I was ravenous.

I was uncertain as to what I should do, so I lay there on the bed for several minutes with my eyes closed. Then I physically stirred and sat up. Ian was sitting in a chair near the fireplace reading a book. He smiled at me and spoke. Oh, he calls me Lady Anne, even though I told him I go by Tory. I guess I don't really care. Maybe it even makes sense because I am becoming someone new and different, aren't I?

He took me by the hand and said that he would get me some food, but first, there was a price involved. I had no money. But I found out that money was not legal tender here. No, he said that money wasn't necessary that I had everything I needed to barter for whatever I needed or wanted. He told me to take off all my clothes. So I jumped to the conclusion that the price was sex. Wrong again. At least not sex directly. I was a little apprehensive as I stripped down to bra and panties. When he returned I was still standing next to the bed, with my arms over my breasts. He wagged his head at me negatively as if I were a child. Of course at our age differences I am just a child to him. He wanted me to be naked. That was difficult for the first time. Still, my adventurous streak saved me and I did as instructed. That was when he gave me the little buckskin top I'm now wearing. But he also gave me a leather garter belt that was as soft as butter. I put it on first and after he passed me stockings, I sat on the bedside to put them on. They were fine silk and in a tan color with a hint of red. And they had reinforced toes and heels. They felt gorgeous as I slipped them up my legs. Even though I smoothed them several times, when I flexed my foot there were little wrinkles in the hollows of my ankles. As I slipped on the little dress, or whatever it is, he passed me a pair of soft buckskin moccasins that were every bit as soft as the other leather things I wore.

Once dressed, I looked up at him and saw total approval in his eyes and I noticed as he raised his left hand slightly and made a circling motion indicating that he wanted me to turn around, that he held several, what I would later find to be, rawhide laces. They appeared to be about four feet long. I was going to turn completely in a circle, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me as I faced away from him. He pulled my hands behind my back and bound them there with a piece of the rawhide. My hands were placed palm to palm so that my forearms were against one another. What surprised me most was when he bound my elbows with another length of the leather, pulling them until they touched. It wasn't painful, but I'm sure it could become uncomfortable after a period of time.

We were in the kitchen a short time later and a woman, probably even older than she looked came in and began to cook at an enormous gas range. She seemed to pay no attention to the fact that I was bound, but went about her work.

"This is Chenoa. Her name means 'dove'. She is Algonquian. Been working here since before I bought the place."

I was a little uncomfortable being bound and dressed as I was and her being right there watching, although she didn't seem to be watching at all. I mentioned my concern to Ian.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can fix that for you."

He came around to my side of the table. I was really impressed with how considerate of my feelings Ian was, that is until he put the leather blindfold over my eyes, pulling it tight behind my head.

"There, now you can't see if she's watching you."

Needless to say, he fed me dinner and wine, since I not only couldn't see, but had no use of my hands at all. After dinner, he guided me back up to the bedroom. Once there, he scooped me up and put me very gently on the bed.

I felt him pull the moccasins from my feet and then his hands touched me. The first touch was so soft and light, barely fingertips, brushing against the sides of my leg. One set of fingertips against the outside of my left leg, another inside, starting at the heel of my foot and gently, slowly sliding up my ankle, calf, past my knee to the stocking top on my thigh. He unhooked the little clips on the garter belt that held the stocking before doing the same process to the right leg. He didn't remove the stockings, only the garter belt.

I felt warm breath on my thighs, almost as if her were speaking to them in a whisper. Then I jumped when the wet tongue made its first contact with my naked skin just above the stocking top. Chills raised on my upper body as he continued to kiss, lick and nibble, sending a vibration of excitement through me. I'd have probably tried to push him away if I'd had the use of my hands. But, my only option was to lie there and let him do as he wished ... as I wished truthfully.

He never touched my sex but moved from my legs to my stomach, opening buttons and pushing the little buckskin dress away to my sides. His tongue curled around my navel then slowly moved to my breasts. At the first warm wet kiss on a nipple, I tried to pull away from the almost too intense feelings. Then his hand grasped the other breast while he suckled at my nipple, pulling it into his mouth, nibbling on it and ... suddenly he pulled away. But instantly I knew the evil of his actions, when he blew on that wet nipple and it turned nearly to stone and I gasped.

I heard him chuckle in a low rumbling way that sounded between sinister and amused. Then his mouth was at my ear, his whisper soft and warm.

"May I fuck you?"

"Oh God, yes!"