Jack and Katie have been flirting at the office for years. When management starts downsizing, they are both unsure if they will be able to keep their jobs. As the tension builds, the two are set on a collision course.
A mysterious magician comes to the sleepy New England town of Latham. He’s looking for a new assistant for his stage act and he’s set his sights on Penny, a beautiful young redhead who works at the local paper.
Is the Astonishing Asmirac all he seems? What secrets lie in his traveling magic show? Why is Penny so drawn to the gleam of his lovely pocket watch?
Let yourself be drawn into Disappearing Penny, a erotic hypnotic novel by Jack Stratton.
Asmirac took a pocket watch out of his vest pocket and clicked it open. He examined the time and looked up at the wall clock to check it. He then smiled and proceeded to wind the watch as he looked over at Penelope, who stared at his timepiece with curiosity.
The watch was old, the sort of soft dull color gold got when it was touched over and over again. Still, it did shine. It reflected the light from the setting sun coming in through the window. It was quite lovely.
“Do you like my watch, Penny?” he asked without looking up.
She gazed at it, almost unaware of his words.
“I told you, Mister Ambrose, it’s Penelope,” she corrected, her voice slightly dreamy.
“I am sorry. It just slips off my tongue so, I can’t help it. Penny. Pretty Penny. Pretty pretty Penny Penny. Watch watch. Tick tock.” With a tiny flick of his wrist, the watch fell from his hand and dangled on its chain, eye level with both of them. With another flick of his wrist it swung back and forth in time with his little repetitive phrases.
“Pretty watch, pretty Penny, watch and see, listen close, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock goes the gold watch. Can you hear it in your head? Tick tock, tick tock?”
Her mouth was slack, her eyes following the golden circle on a chain.
Elisa always seemed to come back to Mark’s apartment. He had the right combination of trustworthiness and meanness that let him take her to the dark places she wanted to go. But when he finds out about her new love interest will his jealousy push him too far?
Mark is a bit obsessed. He keeps running into a cute, if a bit bratty, college girl named Megan in the mall. She certainly wants nothing to do with the thirty-something Mark, but when she gets into some financial trouble she finds herself in his car listening to his very interesting offer.
What is she willing to do for $1000? Can she play her part in his kinky role play scenario? Will she be seduced into entering his world of dirty games and easy money?
After procuring the services of a beautiful nineteen year old girl, Mark is training his young paid playmate Megan on how to seduce her best friend into their kinky world.
Will Ashley be convinced to follow her best friend down the rabbit hole and into a twisted and kinky lifestyle? Will Megan be able to deal with her master’s new obsession? Will Mark be able to handle not one but two rented sex slaves?
“How does this work?” Ashley said, her eyes red and her lip quivering.
Megan was pulling her down the street by her hand, stopping every few steps and sighing deeply giving Ashley pep talks.
“It’s the easiest thing in the world. I know you’ve had sex before. In fact I know all three guys you’ve done it with. Trust me, it’s going to be awesome. You just go there and start making out with him and then he’d do all the work and then you leave with 500 buck!” she said pulling her best friend another twenty feet.
“But I don’t even know him. Like I’ve never even met him! What if I don’t want to do it when I get there?” she asked almost on the verge of crying.
“Then say ‘I don’t want to do this’ and he’ll drive us back to the mall,” Megan said, annoyed.
“But what if he doesn’t-like-think I’m pretty enough?” Ashley said, her biting her lower lip.
Megan rolled her eyes.
“You’re gorgeous, come on! You’re, like, the prettiest girl I know!” she said even more agitated.
They walked a bit more, the whole time Megan pulling Ashley by the hand.
“What are you going to be doing? You’re not going to leave me alone there are you?!” Ashley said, suddenly hysterical.
“No! I’ll be right there, I mean, in the other room-” Megan thought about that, “I mean, I can even be in the same room if it will make you feel better,” she added.
Slowly waking up in the morning, two lovers play a new game. Bondage, rough sex, and erotic facesitting.
When she clicked shut the first cuff on my wrist, I raised an eyebrow. She gave me innocent eyes; I yawned. She lazily walked around the bed and pulled my other hand into the other handcuff. Then she made her way to the foot of the bed and found the rope I’d left there. I looked down, straining my neck a bit as she tried to approximate the knot I’d made around her ankles a few hours before. I wasn’t sure how accurate it was, but I couldn’t pull my legs free.
She pulled the blanket and the sheet off of me and I felt, suddenly, the weight of my powerlessness. She looked down at me with her hands on her hips, naked, smiling, planning.
“Are you ready to earn your coffee?” she said with a challenging glint in her eye.
“It’ll be cold by then,” I answered calmly.
She rolled her eyes and knelt on the bed next to me.
The slap was, to be honest, a little too hard and a little too close to my ear. The world swam and spun for a moment.
The Valet is the tale of a dedicated butler doing his best to attend to the needs of his employer’s female guest.
From The Valet:
She looked over the uneaten fruit and pastries and sighed.
“A man like that certainly does leave a lot of leftovers,” she said, a little sadly, pouring herself some more champagne and considered her place.
“No need to worry, miss, nothing will go to waste,” I said pouring the orange juice into a plastic jug for later. She laughed at this, her charm was visceral.
“He doesn’t mind you taking the leftovers?” she asked, the question lingering in the air whether she meant the food or other things.
“I assure you, he often insists, miss” I said, gathering her glass and her coffee cup, not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the heat of her body.
“Does he ever let you finish what he’s started?” she said, her voice lower. I straightened.
“You’ll have to ask Mr Leinhardt about that, miss, I’m not really at liberty to talk about the goings on of the house,” and there was nothing in my voice. I squashed all feeling and simply busied myself with the cleaning up of breakfast and memorizing every blushing inch of her body.
“What if he told you to-” she reached down and grabbed my crotch. I coughed a bit, mostly for her benefit. It’s unfair to have such a ravishing woman think she has no effect on a man. Even a man who is adept at swallowing his own desires.
“I’m afraid, as I said, you’ll have to take that up with Mr Leinhardt, miss. The particulars of my responsibilities are indeed up to him. And if I might, miss, my name is Howards.”
The story of a woman named Valentine who meets a charming writer of risqué stories. As she is seduced by his words she is also confronted by the guilt of playing his taboo games. Will reality live up to the dirty fantasies?
“You mentioned the story about the blonde,” he said, with his eyes on her legs.
His gaze made her feel sexy. She sipped the bourbon and winced a little as it burned in her throat.
“Right. I think it was one of your earlier stories. There was a man and a blonde girl. She was younger than him. They were in a restaurant and he was telling her what to do,” she said, trying not to look at him so that she could speak without being embarrassed.
“What did he tell her to do?”
She took another sip, for courage.
“He told her to pull up her skirt when the waiter wasn’t near,” she whispered.
“And touch herself.”
He smiled again. She wanted his hands on her, like in the cab. She wanted him.
“Pull up your skirt,” he said.
“I’m not one of the girls in your stories,” she said with a laugh.
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