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Emily's Fantasies

By: Molly Jayne
Published By: Blushing Press
Copyright: ©2018 by Blushing Books® and Molly Jayne
31,000 words
Heat Level:
4.6 Out Of 5 (4.6 on 9)   |  Write a review
Price:
$2.99

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Emily is a full time government translator and part time erotic romance author, writing under a couple of aliases. Once, on a sad, depressing day, she penned her favorite fantasies. Her best friend and publisher discovered the manuscript and put into paperback, publishing it under Emily’s real name. Emily found it amusing – until she received an onslaught of suitors. She immediately pulled all the copies from the store shelves. Or so she thought. 

Connor hasn’t participated in his favorite pastime – women – since a nasty break up two years ago. Needing some semblance of release, he stops at the local bookstore for a magazine on his way home from work. Browsing the back shelves, he comes across a small paperback tucked between some literature. Fascinated, he reads the prologue and then reads it again. Something he hasn’t felt in two years creeps down his spinedesire, visions, excitement. Without further ado, he purchases the book and heads home to devour it. 

When he shows up at a writer's conference and the two meet, will he be the man destined to fulfill Emily's Fantasies? 

Publisher's Note: This sensual romance contains elements of power exchange.  

Prologue 

 

 

The cover of a book caught Connor's eye as he was browsing the adult bookstore aisles—Emily's Fantasies. Taking it off the shelf, he looked at the book cover and then read the prologue. 

 

My name is Emily Masters; I'm twenty-six and still single. 

I'm not beautiful. Don't get me wrong, I'm enough, just not that strike-you-dumb-stunning that you read about in all those great romance novels. My hair is plain dark brown and brushes the center of my back when I braid it—just long, full-bodied, brown hair. There are none of those shimmering highlights or cute ringlets that frame an angelic oval face; although it does have a clean wholesome shine when the sun hits it just right. 

My eyes are good. I have noticed I have exceptional long vision, but I can also see to read fine, no need for glasses. To me, they're emerald green, but my driver's license says hazelprofessionals. I have regular lashes that have absolutely no effect on the opposite sex if I playfully bat them. Funny, though, my mom says that when my eyes tear up, my tough-as-nails dad melts like warm butter. Obviously, she's the one who wields the paddle in our household. 

I'm not fat but not skinny, either. I'm five-six-and-a-half, and I wear a size six in almost everything. Jeans, as all women know, can go a size up or down, except those new skinny jeans they're making and then I would probably wear a triple XL. I've got boobs. Normal boobs, pert, size thirty-four Ba handful, but they say more than that's a waste, anyway. 

My greatest asset, I think, is my ass. Not that anyone has looked at it in quite a while, except Mom, months ago. Me and my sassy mouth, gets me in a bit of trouble from time to time. Dad laughs, but Momnot so much. Back to my ass, it's a round, tight little bubbleone spank of a big, strong man's hand would catch both cheeks. It doesn't stick out or anything, but right where your thighs meet your butt, there is a definite distinction and then the backs of my thighs are fleshy and tender. 

I like to pride myself on not being overly particular about men's features. I'm not looking for one of those six-foot-four Scottish barbarians with six pack abs and thighs as big around as my waist. Nope! I'm not saying Quasimodo is my type, but I'm not looking for a Greek god, either. It's just not all that important to me if my head barely reaches his muscled chest or if he has long, silky hair. His nose doesn't have to have that noticeable little bump telling you he has had it broken at least once in a real man's fight. It doesn't matter if his eyes are sky blue, shimmering green, or coal black with long thick lashes that rest on his cheek when he closes his eyes. Glasses are okay, too. 

So why am I still single? I think it may be me or that I'm broken or something. I want a man who's confident with himself. I want him to know what he wants and takes it. I want him to have integrity. I want him to have rules which he enforces. I want his eyes, no matter the color, to see into my soul. I want the tone of his voice, whether it is stern, encouraging, ordering, soothing, or angry, to make a chill race over my body in pleasure and anticipation. I want self-confidence, not arrogance. 

You see, I have these thoughts. Fantasies, actually, and settling for less than that fulfillmentwell, it's not going to happen. I want to submit, but also, I want to be accountable for my actions, to feel pain blazing across my ass and thighs, to feel the heat of humiliation. I want to see his pupils dilated, hear his breathing become erratic, and know his cock is rock hard from watching my ass clench, from watching me squirm and buck, from hearing my cries of pain. 

Oh, and I'm addicted to orgasms. 

He chuckled at the author's wit and could just imagine her sassy mouth. 'Addicted to orgasms'. 

Flipping back to the cover, he noted the variety of equipment used to restrain individuals for punishment. Some of them were fairly mundane, but some were quite extreme. The Victorian settee with the rolled cushioned arms was common, as was the lightly padded spanking horse. Not so common was the sturdy, waist high, four-legged stool fixed in the floor. The seat looked to have some sort of cushion on the modified seat and there were leather restraints attached at varying locations indicating some very uncomfortable, very exposed positions for either female or male victim. Along with those few items, he recognized stocks, a kneeling bench, and a cage. 

He re-read the prologue, then turned the page. There was only one sentence. 

ARE YOU INTERESTED? 

Intrigued for the first time in many months, Connor purchased the book, tossed it on the passenger seat of his car, and drove straight home. TV dinner and a glass of iced tea in hand, he settled on his chesterfield, propping his feet on the expensive marble coffee table. He again read the prologue, the author's invitation, and turned to the first chapter. 

 

Late Again 

 

 

Emily saw him standing on the front porch when she pulled around the corner. She was late again, and he had warned her, last time, of the consequences. Her thoughts raced as she got out of the car, searching for the right words to explain her tardiness. 

She stopped where the sidewalk met the porch, his disapproving frown unnerving her. "I h-had a meeting. I know I should have c-called you," she stammered. "But they kept talking, couldn't come to an agreement. Then I got caught in the evening traffic. I know I should have texted before I left, but then I was in the car" 

The expression on his face transformed from disappointment to irritation as he held up his hand to silence her. "And that would have been a whole lot worse." She could tell he was finished listening to her stumble through her story, watching her shift nervously from foot to foot. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a pocket knife. 

"Cut me two switches. Each is to be at least three-feet long and a quarter-inch thick," he instructed, handing her the knife. 

Setting her things on the porch step, she stretched out her hand, palm up, meekly accepting the opened blade. She silently chastised herself as she forced her feet not to stomp through the yard as she went to the dreaded peach tree for said switches. 

When she returned, he solemnly informed her of the next task. "You are to go inside. Remove your long, floaty skirt. Pull your panties down to your knees, and position yourself over the arm of my Victorian sofa," he said, his eyes passionless under his drawn brows. "Your feet are to be on the floor and the tip of your nose pressed to the cushion. Then, you will wait for me, as I have for you." 

When he walked into the living room ten minutes later, Emily was positioned over the cushioned arm of the sofa as he had instructed. She lifted her head, looking in his direction when she heard him enter; dark, forbidding eyes met hers. 

"Your nose is to be in the cushion," he snapped, and she quickly dropped her head. She heard him set something on the coffee table and then he moved to stand behind her. 

A moment later, she felt his hand skim along the inside of her thighs, urging her legs further apart. His fingers gently squeezed the lips of her pussy, increasing the excited apprehension mounting within her. 

"Look up at the coffee table," he ordered. When Emily lifted her eyes, the first thing she saw was a large analog clock with a slow moving second hand. "How late were you?" 

"Twenty minutes, Sir," she replied softly. 

"Then you will receive twenty separate, burning lines," he said with quiet emphasis. 

He was standing close against her bare bottom, caressing its roundness. "I will administer one stroke a minute. Whether the strike comes as the minute changes or during that minute, you will have to wait for each until it arrives, as I have been forced to wait for you to arrive home." His repeating of the fact he had been kept waiting caused her heart to skip a beat. 

He then moved back and to the left. She could feel his eyes roam over her, taking in the beauty of her firm, full, bare buttocks. Slowly, he ran the switch up and down her exposed skin and then inside the dividing crevice of her ass, toying with her nerve endings and building her anticipation of what was about to happen. As he drew back, Emily clenched her ass cheeks, preparing for the first lash. Instead, he laid the switch back across her bottom and began moving it in a path from the top of her ass to the middle of her thighs, delegating without words the boundaries he had chosen. 

"After each lash," his deep voice instructed, "you will repeat,' thank you, Sir. I will not be late again'." 

"Yes, Sir," Emily whimpered, knowing how she dreaded this ordeal and yet craved its searing pain at the same time. 

"Eyes on the clock," he ordered, and she fixed her eyes on the white clock face. 

The hands clicked to six-forty, and the first stroke landed in the middle of her buttocks. 

"Mmmfff!" Emily's muffled gasp filled the cushion as her toes curled, tipping her ass into a more upward position. "Thank you, Sir. I will not be late again." 

Each second ticked painfully by as he and Emily waited. 

Swish!!!! 

"Aaahhh! Thank you, Sir. I will not be late again." 

More than once, Emily flailed her legs as the switch welted a different area of her upturned ass and thighs, her required statement coming between choking sobs, at times muffled by the cushion she now hugged tightly. But she didn't lose count of the number of times the switch landed, and as the clock hands reached seven o'clock, the last searing lash fell. 

"Oooowwwmmmmffff! Thank you, Sir. I will not be late again." 

Emily could feel his nearness as his fingers lightly traced the welts he had left. She felt his fingers touch her dripping wet pussy, carefully spreading the sticky lips apart. She felt him move to position himself between her legs and then she heard the zipper of his trousers being lowered. She felt his warm hands gently grasp her hips, drawing her back. 

Her pussy muscles clenched as she felt him push himself deep into her. With each thrust, the pain diminished and pleasure took its place. They soon began to move together as one, each carrying the other closer and closer to the climax both of them now desired. 

Emily's entire body began to spasm as her widespread legs quivered uncontrollably and her hips gyrated on the arm of the sofa. As the inner walls of her pussy constricted, she felt him tumble into the first wave of his own orgasm. His fingers dug into her hip; his groin began to thrust faster, the thrust more forceful. 

"Oh please, let me come," Emily moaned loudly as her body began to overtake her senses. 

"No," he growled, stilling as his own juices shot forth. "This is punishment; you will not come." 

Panting and exhausted, her pussy twitching, Emily remained across the arm of the sofa as he slowly removed his cock, leaving her pussy with only a remembrance of his domination. 

"You may clean yourself and then begin my supper," his warm voice allowed. Then, taking hold of her shoulders, he assisted her to her feet and turned her around to face him. Drawing her into his comforting embrace, he kissed her tenderly. "Next time, I think maybe you should take the time to make the phone call." 

"Yes, Sir," she whispered, gazing up at him. 

Catching a stray tear with his thumb, he offered a lopsided smile, "If you're very good this evening, I will let you come when we go to bed." Smiling for the first time since she arrived home, Emily headed for the bathroom. 

 

Connor read the first story again, taking note of a couple of things. The author never mentioned his name, but she did refer to him as Sir several times. He liked that. She seemed to like the slight building up of anticipationretrieving her own switches, having to prepare herself, then having to wait for punishment. Also, the author noted he made her participate, took his pleasure, and comforted her after. Interesting. 

He looked at the book cover again, seeing the Victorian sofa with high, round cushioned arms, and visualized Emily's embarrassing position, clutching the cushion to muffle her cries, the peach switch striping her bare bottom and tender thighs as the minutes slowly ticked by. 

Marking his place, he tossed the book to the cushion beside him, rested his head back on the chesterfield and closed his eyes. Visions of creamy smooth buttocks rounded over the Victorian sofa, cries of pain, and muffled pleas invaded his thoughts. Twenty vivid, red welts traversing her ass and thighs had him shifting his burgeoning erection. 

Connor woke with a start, then grabbed the back of his neck. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but the crook in his neck was painful enough to indicate it had been more than a few minutes. After a trip to the bathroom, he grabbed a cup of coffee and picked up the book, turning to the next chapter. 

Southern Lady on 06/08/2018 06:16am
Connor seems to have found someone into the heady mixture of romance spiced up with spankings. However, while Emily seems to be aware o these potent mixtures, in truth she is an un-experienced player. Off course that%u2019s where the romance peppered with generous spankings comes into the book. That%u2019s what this one special and a can%u2019t miss storyline for the reader. We thoroughly enjoyed the plot%u2019s premise and how it played out.
Redrabbitt on 06/06/2018 02:08pm
really liked this quick read and the character interaction between author Emily Masters and Dominant Connor McGregor. What starts out as a book called %u201CEmily%u2019s Fantasies%u201D at a small bookstore, will lead to him finding her, attending a convention and starting a relationship with her, making her fantasies become a reality.

Connor McGregor is a dominant, runs a family multi-billion dollar business, and at present, is not in a D/s relationship. He will find a book by Emily Masters at a small bookstore that intrigues him and the more he reads, the more he desires to learn more about her. Asking his brother to research Emily, he will learn that she will be part of a convention held in Dayton, and he will be there to meet her. He loves her bio that says she is addicted to orgasms.

Emily Masters writes BDSM stories and had written a book about her fantasies and fantasy man that she thought had been pulled completely from the market. She isn%u2019t involved in a relationship and the last Dom she had left a sour taste in her mouth. She is so over wannabe men calling themselves dominants.

The plot will have Connor reading Emily%u2019s book through three times and seeing that she is craving a man who isn%u2019t afraid to take charge, to give her the discipline, love, support, and guidance she wants. Connor just gets the feeling that they are the yin-yang to each other and determined he will meet her in person and she what comes of it. So he will fly to Dayton and discover that only high dollar suites are available, but that is ok, he can afford it, and it is worth it to meet Emily and see if they click.

Seeing her on a ladder will have him barking out orders, and she will grudgingly comply. Then he will come upon her again and take control. There is reluctant obedience, but sparks are there. With issues with needing rooms for another guest, Emily steps forward to give up one of her rooms, and Connor has the perfect opportunity to offer her the extra room in his suite. She is independent and getting her to acquiesces is the beginning of their D/s adventure.

The story will include passages from her book that he has been reading. It will also have her daydreaming as he says things to her. Could he be the real thing, the man who she has been dreaming about, craving, desiring? Can she willingly submit to his dominance and correction? There are several detailed corrections and explicit sex scenes, and fantasies in the story.
Goldie Nut on 06/05/2018 06:23pm
Emily Masters had written a book about her personal fantasies. All the copies
were supposed to be pulled but one copy. Connor has the one copy not returned.
He reads the book and finds that he must meet Emily. His brother Richard finds out
all he can for Connor but Connor is not satisfied and wants to know her address and
other contact information. He finds she is going to be in Florida and at a Seminar to showcase another novel she has just completed. Connor makes tracks to meet her in Florida
before she even knows it is going to happen. There are a lot of twists and turns after
this.
Stylie Kidd on 05/31/2018 04:58pm

When sexy Dom Conner happens upon a lone paperback in an adult book store - he finds a story of a woman who wants exactly what he has always wanted to deliver. He goes home, reads the book from cover to cover and proceeds to try and find the author. When he discovers she is going to be attending a good event that weekend - he makes plans to find her. Sparks fly between them as Conner shows Emily that her fantasies can come true.
Marcia Skinner-Williams on 05/31/2018 08:55am
Emily's Fantasies was an interesting book too read. The character's have more of a S/m dynamic than your everyday vanilla couple. The many punishments are a little harsh but in turn the sex is passionate, sensual, and raw. I loved that Connor wanted to give Emily her fantasies and acted on his own desires as well. I would like to have known more about who Connor was as a Dom, but overall it was a good read. I look forward to reading more from this author. I voluntarily received an arc copy of this book.
Nancy Hughes on 05/29/2018 11:12pm
Emily has written fantasies, hoping someday to meet the Dom, who will bring them to life. She meets Connor, but doesn't take him seriously at first, thinking he's a wannabe. Story moves along quickly, from spankings, to sadistic play, and sex. I voluntarily reviewed an advanced reader copy of this book.
LuCinda Beebe on 05/29/2018 11:32am
This is a fast-paced, enjoyable, and fun story. Emily is a BDSM author who accidentally got some of her stories published in a book. When she found out she pulled them off the shelves but missed one which is the one Connor, who is a Dom, finds and reads. The characters are complex and likable with the plot line kind of predictable but still interesting.
Lillie322 on 05/26/2018 05:17pm
I voluntarily reviewed an advance reader copy of this book. This book is hot and I really wish it had lasted longer. Once he reads a book that Emily wrote about her secret fantasies and then tried to bury, he is hooked. Connor is a dominate who loves delivering just the sometimes harsh level of punishment Emily craves. Spanking romance. Hand, paddle, anal, ginger, clamps, plugs, restraint.
Tami on 05/26/2018 09:08am
When Connor purchases and reads a small book titled Emily's fantasies he is more than a bit intrigued. This woman seems exactly what is missing in his live, and so Connor decides that he will meet her. He gets his chance when he learns that she will participate at a BDSM convention.

Molly Jayne is a new author for me and I am so very glad that I read this book. Emily and Connor's chemistry is combustive to put it mildly. Their passion made the pages burn. The only complaint I do have is that the book was a bit too short. And also there were some insecurities Emily did have that were not addressed and I would have liked to read how Connor would have handled them. Nevertheless I loved reading the book.

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