Erotica Bites


*Warning: The hardest lessons to learn are the ones that shape your character. If I could go back and be a better submissive, I would. I humbly apologize, Master. Please don’t let them take me away.


Master wants me in black leather tonight. He says I look like an angel in my corset with my breasts spilling out.

But I mustn’t spill out, he says. I must be demure at all times while serving his friends. I must remember my place.

After I take a bath in scented oil I take a long time to groom. Hot pink toenails and fingernails—Master’s favorite. He says he likes how my fingers look wrapped around his cock.

I smooth vanilla lotion all over my body, focusing on massaging into the special creases that will delight Master most. Some submissives aren’t as careful to please their Masters as I am. We’ve been together only six months, but he knows me. And I know him.

I know he loves to nuzzle the arches of my feet, so I spend a lot of time rubbing lotion there. By the time I’m finished, I’m as soft as a baby. When I look in the mirror, I’m glowing pink from the heat of the water and massage.

Throwing a look at the clock on the nightstand, I realize the stirrings I hear in the rest of the house are the caterers carting in food. I must hurry.

Drying my hair takes forever. It’s not very long—only to the middle of my back—but it’s thick. But I can’t take shortcuts, not tonight. I’m going to make Master proud. After all, this party is to show me off.

As I slip into my garter belt and stockings, and then add my thong panties over the top, I keep an ear on the activity beyond the bedroom. Master had insisted on dressing himself, though he let me groom him last night. Just thinking about serving him has me aching. My nipples are so hard that it almost hurts to lock them inside my new leather corset.

Master likes to look good. First he had me trim his hair. It’s actually how we met. He came into Barber Brothers every week just to get a few stray hairs trimmed. I liked running my hands through his hair. Sometimes he let me wash it. Those were the most decadent moments, lathering his scalp and watching his eyes close in pleasure.

One day he’d caught my hand and brought it to his lips. I was mesmerized, watching his beautiful mouth so close to my knuckles. That’s when he asked me out. Only when I gave my breathless “yes” did he skim my knuckles with his lips.

It was the moment I realized that when Master asks for something, he wants it now. He wouldn’t let me finish my shift at Barber Brothers. He spoke with my boss for a minute and then beckoned me with a flick of his fingers. I’d been wet just walking across the barber shop to meet him.

I was wet facing the mirror now. Sliding my hands over my torso, I tried to see myself through Master’s eyes. Always. He was my one and only concern in the universe. He was my only job now, and I adored it.

I touched a fingertip to the simple silver choker I wore. A heart hung in the hollow of my throat, bearing Master’s name. Jackson. My Jackson.

The door opened, and I turned to see him in full glory. Black pants, fitted to his long muscled legs. A white shirt unbuttoned at the throat and rolled to the elbows. But what caught my gaze and held it was the shining leather belt around his trim middle. I could nearly taste the leather as well as hear it meeting my skin.

I shivered, and Master smiled. In a few strides he crossed the room to me. “You look beautiful, Livvy.” When he used my name instead of “slave” or “slut,” it felt extra-special. He tilted my chin up using a rough knuckle underneath, and I quivered even as I kept my eyes lowered as he wished.

“Thank you, Master.”

He pressed a kiss between my brows. “You’ll make me proud. Now come on. The guests are arriving.”








I can’t keep my eyes off her wicked curves. I can’t keep my hands to myself. It doesn’t matter that she’s my best friend’s daughter or that she’s barely legal. I must have her, and if that’s wrong, I’ll pay the consequences.

“Goodness, there are a lot of files,” I said, looking up at the wall in awe. The space was packed full of files from floor to ceiling. A small ladder stood off to the side, available for reaching the top shelf.

I looked at the stack in my hand. Sloan—or Mr. Barbosa, I had to remember to call him by his last name—leaned against the doorframe, his stare unwavering. It made me nervous. My heart beat like crazy, and my knees wobbled so much I feared I’d fall off the ladder.

But my new boss had given me a bunch of folders beginning with the letter A.

“Go on, Ashley. You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

I lowered my lashes to try to hide it when I looked at him. He was tall and looked as if he worked out, unlike my own lawyer father and a lot of other men in the judicial system I’d met.

Wearing fitted gray pants with a pristine white button-down shirt and a striped tie, he was walking sex. His dark hair swept over his forehead and the hint of a black beard was sprouting on his angular jaw. Beneath my blouse, my nipples peaked at the thought of how that five o’clock shadow would feel on my thighs.

I shivered.

“You are afraid of heights. Poor girl.” His voice was deep and shivery-good. It reminded me of Christian Bale’s in Batman. I’d sit on any jury just to hear him talk.

“I’m not afraid of heights.” To prove it, I placed one foot on the ladder. My heels were new, the spikiest ones in my closet. And apparently good enough for a job interview. I was now an employee of Barbosa, Jefferson and Frankfurt. Personal secretary to Attorney Sloan Barbosa.

Heat slipped into my stomach. I shot my boss another look before climbing to the second step.

As I ascended, he talked. “Have we met before?”

“Yes, at my father’s party last holiday season.”

His eyes narrowed. They turned down slightly at the corners, giving him a sleepy air that was completely false. One look at his dangerous scowl and you knew he was wide awake and probably dreaming up ways to incarcerate his next victim.

As I reached the top of the ladder, I braced myself and read the A names on the files now at eye level. I slipped two into their places and searched for a place for the third.

Papers fluttered out, and I followed their momentum. Down, down to Sloan.

His gaze was fixed on my skirt.

Up my skirt.

My heart raced and a gasp slipped past my lips. Was he…? I glanced down.

Oh God, he was. The stud of a man was looking up my skirt. My pussy was instantly creaming with wetness for him. I’d had my eye on him at the holiday party last year, but I had been just a kid. Seventeen and never been touched.

Since then, I’d been with one boy. The memory of his inept groping was too disgusting to think about when I was in the same room as my new boss.

A man like Sloan Barbosa would know what to do with a woman’s body. With hands like those, he could work me into a frenzy.

He already was, and I was just standing on the ladder.

“While you’re up there, will you please check on another file for me?” His baritone raised a full-body shiver in me. I clung to the ladder.


“To the right. Anderson, Barry.”

“Looking now.” I shifted my feet on the ladder and stretched toward the spot. From the corner of my eye, I noted Sloan standing closer to the ladder than before, one big hand wrapped around the support. His neck craned backward and his eyes half-lidded.

I eased my weight to one foot, sending my hip outward and hoping my skirt slit opened a little more. What could he see, if anything? How was a man like him even interested in a cheap thrill like looking up the skirt of a woman as inexperienced as I was?

“Found it.”

“Good,” he crooned.

My nipples bunched into the hardest little stones. I wanted his hot lips wrapped around them. His face shoved in my pussy. I hadn’t yet experienced oral sex, but I’d heard other girls talking and I often fantasized about it while fingering myself.

If I didn’t get off this ladder soon, I didn’t know if I could stop myself from rocking my cunt against the ladder.

I moaned quietly and began to descend with the Anderson file. When I faced my boss, he looked into my eyes. Deeply. The melted chocolate of his eyes made my pussy hotter. Wetter.

“Get back up there, Ashley.”

Oh God. His command did very bad things to me. My chest rose and fell with each harsh breath I dragged in.