MasturbationMonday – Remove those #Panties! #FREE


Hello and welcome to Masturbation Monday and I have GREAT NEWS – I come (pun intended) bearing gifts…

For those that haven’t grabbed their free copy of ‘Dancing With Death’ get it now by clicking on one of the pictures or just here. It’s FREE until Tuesday 27th Jan, so don’t delay, grab it TODAY. Ok, enough of that. Here’s some naughtiness to get you one-clicking and loading up your kindle with kink!


Desiring Death

‘Lift your skirt up, cherie, and display that beautiful backside of yours.’

She summarily exploded, like a can of coke that had taken a vigorous ride on a pogo stick. Score one for the Duchess, he thought.

‘How dare you!’ Violetta’s violet eyes went a dangerous shade of purple and she shrieked her displeasure at him. ‘Is this how you get your kicks? Issuing stupid commands and ogling bottoms? You are insane!’

Martinet had to bite his bottom lip quite hard to keep from smiling at her fraught response. Of course, she had no option but to pick up the hem of her floor length, lilac frock and pull the entire length of it up, over her back. Her rump was now blatantly on display for his perusal and it was even more beautiful than he had imagined. The cherry on top was that her face had darkened to a beautifully deep scarlet in colour. There was little doubt about the matter now and the Duchess had been right on the money.

‘Very nice,’ he commented appreciatively, knowing it would rile her. He wasn’t lying, though. The view was magnificent. Although the human eye would have been able to see very little about five metres away from the Castello’s grand oak doors, his were able to spot the tiniest of details, even from the respectable distance he held himself at.

For instance, he could tell from the washing tag that her gown needed to be laundered by specialist dry-cleaners. She’d left the thing hanging out of the back of her dress and would probably be mortified if she found out. The tag also told him that it could not be ironed. It was all thoroughly exciting stuff. He also knew that pale, white, Egyptian cotton had been used to trim her dress and that the method used to complete the task was a blind hem stitch. He would put money on the fact that her satin bikini panties had been designed by Calvin Klein even though the waistband had been twisted and the only lettering visible was a ‘C.’ It helped that he’d studied ladies underwear in great detail over the years. From La Perla to Victoria’s Secret, he’d seen it and stripped it, from more than his fair share of willing participants, too.

‘Slide your panties down your ankles.’ The command was issued in a silky voice. He was well aware that that particular order would have her frothing at the mouth and he was not to be disappointed. The look she gave him could have killed a mortal.

‘Why are you doing this?’ There was a hiccup and a soft sob. The distress in her voice was most pleasing.

‘Because I can,’ he replied, and watched with avid enjoyment while she peeled her delicate underwear slowly down her smooth, long legs. It took a little longer than it would have normally, due to her broken arm, which he allowed to hang limply by her side for the time being. From early on in their relationship he intended to define, quite clearly, that good behaviour meant pleasure and that bad behaviour had such dire consequences that it wasn’t worth thinking about.

He would fix her arm, later, if she pleased him. It would take him a few minutes, but after he’d finished it would be impossible to tell she’d ever broken it. Knitting bones together and threading nerves, sinew and fibres back into the right slots was not difficult for him. Earning the reward of that boon, however, would be horribly difficult for her. Violetta was going to quickly learn that exemplary conduct would earn her rewards, but naughty behaviour would ensure that humiliations and punishments would be heaped upon her. It mattered not to him which path she chose, he would probably have equal fun with either. He frowned. Scrap that thought. He’d have far more fun if she disobeyed his every word and fought like a hell cat. He was counting on it.

When the panties began to slide down towards her ankles, he took a moment to savour the anger and fury that she directed at him. He knew that her mind was rebelling against his absolute control, but she had yet to find an override switch for his commands – nor would she. Once he was inside a mind, there was no way, to his knowledge, that he could be removed. As soon as he had a little of her blood inside him, the bond would become even more pronounced and it would grow stronger with each subsequent feeding. The sooner he drank from her, the better, because then there would be no going back. They would be intrinsically bound and then, there was only death or rebirth to consider.

He smiled as he felt her mind give a little push towards his. She was already raging mad and struggling for all she was worth to try and stop the inevitable progress of her flimsy undergarments, but she would soon learn that resistance against him was hopelessly futile. When her panties finally piled in a pretty little puddle at her feet, she was beside herself with mortification. Her modesty was wonderfully enchanting. He watched her squirm. He was beginning to wonder why he hadn’t tried this revenge game earlier. If he’d known how much fun it would be, he could have been at it for centuries…

‘Each time you try to fight me, cherie, I shall make things a little more difficult for you. That way, you’ll soon come to realise that obedience is the only option worth considering.’ His tongue licked his lips thoughtfully. ‘Let’s see. Hmm, I suppose I had better check whether you’re aroused before I get carried away.’

He approached her slowly, his soft leather brogues making no noise on the verdant carpet of short grass beneath him. He purposefully took his time. He wanted her to feel each one of his silent steps, knowing that she would just about be able to watch him from the corner of her eye. He knew that her heart rate was at its maximum setting and that her mouth had run so dry, she was unable to swallow. He also knew that heat had begun to pool between her legs, fiery liquid heat that had nothing to do with his exceptionally clever talents – and yet everything to do with him. Either she found him charmingly attractive or she was turned on by his dominant behaviour. It was probably a combination of the two, but there was no denying her body’s response. Good. If she found him attractive, it would make things easier for him and much more humiliating for her.

‘Are you wet for me, Princess?’ With his final step he reached the beautiful, twin peaks of her buttocks and drew his hand leisurely across them, with the lightest of touches. He noted that they were firm, taut specimens and that they wobbled in all the right places. After a few moments, he pursed his lips and decided that she was not going to answer his question. How terribly rude! Squeezing one of her delectable ass cheeks sharply, he was rewarded with a gasp. It appeared she hadn’t lost her tongue, after all.

‘Answer the question.’ His tone was abrupt.

‘Fuck you,’ she whispered in a panicked, thready voice.

So, the huntress was losing her edge. What a pity. He knew that if he let his control of her slip, her legs would buckle out from under her. The girl was scared.

‘Oh, you will be precious, if we can tame the huntress out of you. Now answer the question or I’ll make you answer it, and believe me when I say you won’t like my tactics.’ His voice was a seductive murmur and he let it penetrate her entire body. By the way her teeth clenched tightly together, he guessed she didn’t much like the effect he had on her. Too bad.

He decided to go easy on her, just this once, and give her an opportunity to speak. He waited. A long, pregnant pause lit up the night sky and the tension around them had a torque that a Mercedes would have been proud of. She was in a spin and there was no right way to turn. As he suspected, no answer was forthcoming. Her lips remained held in a tight line and she would not look at him. He had never considered, even for a moment, that there would be, which was why she had been positioned exactly like this, her buttocks thrust up in the air and bared for his hands. Licking his lips, he felt a glimmer of excitement begin to stir within him. He had not felt such a powerful sentiment since the death of Jacques de Molay, the Grand Master of the Templar Knights, who had been burned at the stake in 1314. Also a vampire, Molay had been a close friend and confederate during some of Martinet’s more ‘unstable’ years. His ugly death had nearly been the end of him, but that was another story. Thankfully, the subject matter today was a far more palatable emotion.


‘Oh, Violetta,’ he sighed delightedly. ‘You and I are going to get along splendidly.’ With no further ado, he began unfastening the thick leather belt from around his waist. He didn’t hurry. He took his own, sweet time as he wanted her to hear what he was doing. The chink of metal as the clasp became free, the swish of movement as it slithered through the loopholes of his trousers and a final, slow drag as he unthreaded the tongue. She was a smart lady. He knew she’d quickly put two and two together and would realise exactly what he had planned for her. He casually glanced her way, and although he was eagerly awaiting her reaction, not a whit of it was reflected upon her face. He looked at her with a lazy, bored expression and voiced his next question.

‘Do you want to run, Violetta?’ His voice was a dangerously low drawl. He gave her mind an extra hard push to make sure she answered him this time. He knew she felt it, because her head snapped back in shock. Yeah and that’s only the half of it sweet pea, he thought.

‘Yes,’ she whispered and there was a hint of vulnerability now in her voice. She wasn’t lying, not that she would have been able to. He could feel her body trying to prime itself for flight, but that avenue was not open to her. To be fair, just about all avenues were locked down and closed, but it would take her some time to realise that and get used to his omnipotent presence. He would look forward to the day she gave up fighting him, but suspected that once it happened her appeal would dwindle significantly. He wasn’t going to let the thought concern him, there was always death for her to look forward to.

‘So, are you going to answer my earlier inquiry? Are you wet for me, precious?’ He began to double the belt over in his fist, forming a slanted ‘O’ shape and tapped it against his palm a few times for good measure. Meanwhile, he watched her lips intently and waited for them to move.

‘Oh, I believe I already did,’ she murmured and smiled sweetly at him. The shock of her cheeky riposte nearly, oh so nearly, made his breath catch. So she had been playing with him? Unheard of. The fighting hellcat was back. How exquisite.

‘I can make you answer me in a polite fashion the easy way or the hard way,’ he said, before unleashing his killer smile.

‘You’d better get used to the hard way, then,’ she said, letting her violet eyes bore into his.

Martinet bent his neck to the left until he heard it crack. This one had plenty of cheek, and in more than one area. Clearing his throat noisily he said, ‘Good. I much prefer the hard way. But you do realise this might hurt, cherie? What with that poor arm of yours, I’d have thought you might have wanted to play it safe.’ The mocking words dripped from a honeyed tongue.

‘I’m a huntress,’ came the sharp retort. ‘We’re taught to handle pain. She glared at him with wonderfully narrowed eyes and her pupils were so large they nearly obscured her pretty, violet irises. ‘I’ve had vampire talons sink their wrath into my back, arms, legs and breasts. Fangs have tried repeatedly to sever prominent arteries in my neck and thighs. Fists have broken my nose and bruised my ribs. Nothing you can do with your belt will compel me to answer the question. I can withstand a great deal of torture.’

Martinet merely smiled. It had been a magnificent speech, but it had little merit upon the methods that he was likely to use. He decided to re-educate her on the matter. ‘Ah, but this isn’t going to be the same kind of torture you’re used to, cherie. This will be a mix of pleasure and pain, and when we combine the two, I think that pretty pink tongue of yours will start telling me all sorts of secrets, without my having to search for them.’

She didn’t deign to respond to him, but her eyes, those gloriously vivid eyes, told him all he needed to know. This was a battle she expected to win. Little did she know, but there wasn’t a female in the land who’d managed to best him at this game and she wasn’t going to be the first.

Masturbation Monday

Need a fix of Desiring Death? Click the image below 🙂


Hop along now 😉

1. Wicked Games 2. Joelle Casteel
3. Gossamer Threads 4. The Power of Edging
5. Substitute 6. Game Day
7. Beg, Brat

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