Red Hot Reads: A Kinky Anthology

My new release, A Collar and Tie, is available in Xcite's new e-book anthology, Red Hot Reads 1. I share the stage with a quartet of other authors as we offer up a kinky bounty of salacious sex.

Blurb:

A native New Yorker, Charlie Anderson, is fired from his big-wig, corporate conglomerate leaving him more than a few yards away from the lap of luxury. Forced to sell his expansive designer tie collection for cash, he resorts to taking an interview for a job as a janitor in the New York subway.

He knows he will have to jump through hoops, but when he lays eyes on Gayle Truman, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. A Nicole Kidman look alike, with eccentric fashion sense and braces, Charlie's potential boss brings new excitement to the idea of slutting himself out for a higher position in the pecking order.


A female domination short, A Collar and Tie teaches Charlie a thing or two in the self confidence department. Mainly that it's not so bad cleaning after other people's mess while pushing your own sexual boundaries.

Excerpt

The door folded back and she was suddenly there leaning against the jamb. A Nicole Kidman if she shopped at Gap and put up her corkscrew curls with a pen. Although, the scarlet pinstripe skirt was a bit much against the white, wide collared blouse. She didn't have glasses to top off the secretary chic and I almost wanted to pout. Instead, I offered her my hand after wiping it across my coat.
   

She nodded as she pumped my hand once, a quick, pert squeeze. She followed it up with a smile and I realized she had braces along her bottom and top teeth. It was oddly cute.
        “Come in my office and we'll discuss the job description. You have a resume I assume?”
        “I'm a little over qualified actually.”
        “Never judge a man by his clothes, Mr...?”
        “Anderson. Charlie.” I cleared my throat loudly and stepped across her into the office, her breasts just barely registered through the fabric of my coat as I passed her.
        “Well, Charlie, let's get started here.”
    

We both sat down in our respective seats. Mine, a squelchy leather high-back and her's a swivel. She spun around to face the computer nestled into the shelved oak desk and opened a document to start typing my file. I passed my silver bordered resume across the desk. She gave it a quick skim.
        

“You’re hired. You start work tonight. Go downstairs and put on your uniform and meet me in the janitor’s closet.”
        “Yes Ma’am.” I gave her a mock salute.
        “That’s what I want to hear.”

    A shiver caressed the back of my neck. It felt like I was being watched. Putting my hands in my pockets I headed downstairs to the janitor’s closet. Despite the shadows, the grimy, soiled floors, the yellow bulbs dimming as I shook the stairs descending, I wasn't one to disobey orders.  I located the small room off to the left of a bunch of storage shelves packed with various chemicals. I went into the room closing the door behind me.
    

The tie slipping from my neck felt like my last safety line. Hanging it by the paint cans made me anxious. My breathing grew quicker, anticipation of getting the humiliation over with consuming my thoughts. It was bad enough I'd have to take a job cleaning up after other people's crap, but they would make me wear the uniform too.
    

 As my slacks slipped to my ankles, my back exposed to air conditioning vents going overtime, the door knob rattled behind me. An arm snaked around my chest, catching me off guard and pulling me backwards before I could look back. I couldn't fight against the fabric around my ankles, hindering any escape in blundering backwards motion. A soft palm cupped my eyes. I was naked. My heart stuttered inside my chest with panic. A stirring of my cock in answer to the intense heat of the palm pressed to my chest.
       

 “This is a test. You will do everything I ask of you. If you don’t, you’ll be out of a job. When you answer I will be Mistress, do you understand me?”
    It was a mental fight to force myself to even struggle. The British lilt to her voice soothing the anger that instinctively arose from the orders given to me. I wanted her. I wanted the job. I wanted it all. Lips caressing my ear, a gentle nibble, her wet breathe clinging to my neck.
“Yes, yes. Please. Mistress.” my voice is choked with need.
If this is her game, I will play.
 

She crushes me to my knees. The concrete is icy, aching against my bruised knees from her push downward. One hand is still over my eyes as she crouches, reaching over to grab something from the shelf. Course fabric from her suit plays across my chest. I feel the hint of her chest against my back. The sudden contact leaves my skin buzzing for heavier sensation. The weight of her breasts behind me. There are no more lights.
    

I felt my tie tickle around my neck, shifting, tightening around my throat, a clinging crush of windpipe. She had me on a leash, pulling the silk slack tight. Forcing back my head, creating a delicate arch in my back. My breathes were panting. Sweat beading and forming along the ridges of my stomach. I was sure she could feel it as she played along the lines of my abs with her fingernails. Each little mark made a hissing sound escape my twisted mouth. Fingers trailed over my right thigh like a piano and hit my pulsing, dancing cock smoothing her palm down the shaft and towards the head. It brought an eager noise to my throat despite my discomfort.
   

The touch grew quicker, rougher, making my knees weak. A shooting pleasure deluding my synapses to bow my spine further. A release in my unforgiving noose as I feel her course hair briefly graze my shoulders. Her other hand cupped my balls and rolled them casually, a spark to the smooth, aggravating sensation trailing up my shaft. She was moving velvet over my skin and I only had to cry out for more. My lips opened, a slight whimper of almost pain-like proportions because the pleasure was so great. Then she stopped altogether.
 

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