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In “I Am Yours,” Mistress Ann’s favorite pet gets a lesson in boundaries. “I Am Yours” is published in its entirety in Not Safe for Work


B saw G’s eyes fill with confusion as he was led away by Alice to parts of the house unknown. B knew the kind of strength and power that Alice could put behind a paddle, and his cock throbbed anew at the mere thought of her expert application of Ann’s punishments.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Ann returned to face B, standing in front of him. Her voice was low–firm, but gentle.

“You crossed a line,” she said to him again, slowly peeling the condom off and disposing of it. She ran her fingertips over the sensitive flesh, making him choke back a moan.

“I got carried away,” he said, his voice husky with desire for her. “It won’t happen again.”

She stepped closer to him and pressed her palms against his chest. He shivered at her touch, knowing that she could feel his need for her as if it was a separate entity in the room with them. “You are mine,” she reminded him, running her hand over the sensitive, raised skin of his brand. “I am not yours.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I would hate for three little words murmured in desperation to spoil a perfectly lovely relationship,” she said.

He swallowed hard, his throat feeling suddenly tight. “I won’t allow it,” he assured her. “I won’t forget my place again.”

“I will make sure you don’t,” she said, retrieving a thick, black leather strap from it’s hook on the rack. He took a deep breath, anticipating the searing pain to come. Ann reared her arm back and brought the strap down on his buttocks. He gasped, savoring the sweet sting.

Again and again, she marked his skin with the wide, thick leather strap, leaving deep red welts that criss-crossed his ass and thighs. His flesh burned, the pain increasing exponentially as she struck him, the pleasure mingling with each stroke. His moans turned to cries, incoherent and involuntary ejaculations that rose in volume and intensity.

When she finally stopped, he let his weight sag against his restraints. His ass was on fire and his breath was coming out in ragged gasps. Ann crossed in front of him and held the leather strap up to his lips. Gratefully, he kissed it, and gently, she wiped a tear off his cheek with her thumb.


If you’d like to read more, Not Safe for Work is available for the Kindle, in paperback, and for the Nook