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Sofia Bane
Dominating the Billionaire (F/m Femdom Rough Sex)
Dominating the Billionaire (F/m Femdom Rough Sex)
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When Stella first comes to audit casino owner Ezra Risk, she's not impressed - he seems like a rich kid with more money than sense. But when Ezra reveals how much he hates being in charge of his business, he offers to pay Stella to dominate him - let her be in control for once! This 6200 word story includes F/m femdom, fingering, oral, belting, public sex, humiliation, and pegging; adults only!
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Excerpt:
I picked up the wine glass. “I’ll be careful,” I promised at his look.
Ezra shook his head. “I’m not paying you to force feed me, for god’s sake.”
I should’ve slapped him again; instead I held the wine glass to his lips. He closed his mouth tightly, looking like an impertinent child. And so I poured the wine anyway, a line of deep red streaking down his lips, his chin, the ropes at his chest. The liquid hit the waistband of his gray slacks and spread outwards in a dark stain.
Ezra jerked backwards. “Fuck!” He tried to use his bound arms to pull off the ropes, found himself held fast. “Why would you do that?” he groaned.
“You know the answer to that.” I pulled his wine glass back from his mouth, sipped some of the wine myself.
He was still upset with me. “That’s three hundred dollar wine,” he hissed. “And thousand dollar pants.”
I laughed in his face – I didn’t intend to, but I did. “Who the fuck even needs thousand dollar pants?” I grabbed a cloth napkin and dabbed his face. “Want them off?”
I said it so casually that it nearly didn’t sound like a sexual proposition. But he caught it, finally gave me one of his cheeky grins. “Yes, Mistress.”
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Excerpt:
I picked up the wine glass. “I’ll be careful,” I promised at his look.
Ezra shook his head. “I’m not paying you to force feed me, for god’s sake.”
I should’ve slapped him again; instead I held the wine glass to his lips. He closed his mouth tightly, looking like an impertinent child. And so I poured the wine anyway, a line of deep red streaking down his lips, his chin, the ropes at his chest. The liquid hit the waistband of his gray slacks and spread outwards in a dark stain.
Ezra jerked backwards. “Fuck!” He tried to use his bound arms to pull off the ropes, found himself held fast. “Why would you do that?” he groaned.
“You know the answer to that.” I pulled his wine glass back from his mouth, sipped some of the wine myself.
He was still upset with me. “That’s three hundred dollar wine,” he hissed. “And thousand dollar pants.”
I laughed in his face – I didn’t intend to, but I did. “Who the fuck even needs thousand dollar pants?” I grabbed a cloth napkin and dabbed his face. “Want them off?”
I said it so casually that it nearly didn’t sound like a sexual proposition. But he caught it, finally gave me one of his cheeky grins. “Yes, Mistress.”
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