Free Domination Sex: Conditioned Response by Erika Masten

DOMINATION SEX: CONDITIONED
RESPONSE
     
    by
    Erika Masten
     
     
    SMASHWORDS
EDITION
    Copyright © 2012 Erika
Masten.
    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
     
     
    Erika Masten
    [email protected]
    http://erikamasten.com
     
     
    Published by Sticky Sweet Books. This
book contains material protected under International and Federal
Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of
this material is prohibited. Without limiting the rights under
copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored on, or introduced into a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written
permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of
this book.
     
    Smashwords Edition License
Notes
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    This is a work of fiction. Any
similarities to actual persons or events are purely
coincidental.
     
    Warning: Explicit content. Intended for
mature readers only. All characters depicted herein are 18 years or
older, and all sexual activities are of a consensual
nature.
     
    This is a work of erotic fantasy. In
real life, please protect yourself and your lover by always
practicing safe sex.
     
     
    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Domination Sex:
Conditioned Response
     
    Excerpt From
    A Firm Hand: Dominated
#4
     
    Excerpt From
    My Two Doms: Hot Hard Menage
#3
     
     
    DOMINATION SEX: CONDITIONED
RESPONSE

    Life can go so wrong so quickly.
Yesterday, I was having lunch at my favorite Italian place with my
best friend, Julie, cooing over too many glasses of wine about how
sure I was Robert was getting ready to ask me to marry him. An
argument last night and a phone call this afternoon, and I’m single
again for the first time in a year and a half.
    Glancing at the clock over the mantle,
I think about what I’m supposed to be doing right now—what I
thought I’d be doing. Friday night just before a three-day
weekend…I should be walking into Julie’s house for a party. I
should be on the arm of my beautiful blond Robert, waiting for just
the right moment to announce our engagement to all our
friends.
    Julie and I went to college with most
of our social circle, and my love-life is a running joke among
them. I’m the wild girl who won’t settle down, who’s having too
much fun dating all the most handsome men in the city. Almost all
my friends are already married and starting to have families. I’m
still going through two or three boyfriends a year, besides the
in-between dating.
    In nearly a decade, no one has lasted
as long as Robert. Either I’m moving too fast, or they’re too
boring. His parents wouldn’t approve, or my friends think he’s a
jerk. We’re just not quite compatible in bed, or—behind my
back—he’s compatible with every woman he sees. The back-and-forth
isn’t nearly the Sex in the City glamour-fest people imagine. I’ve
spent more New Years and Valentine’s Days alone or wishing I was
alone than I’d care to remember.
    Despite a surge of determination to
get myself together and go stag to Julie’s party, I never quite
made it out the door. Now most of my mascara is melted all over the
tissues I’ve been crying into, and my blue eyes are a puffy red
mess. I tend to twist my hair when I fret, so my long, curly red
strands have gone from a carefree updo to a loose, finger-tangled
snarl. My light blue sheath dress is so wrinkled, after an hour and
a half of me sitting in an anxious little ball on the sofa, that it
looks like a roadmap. Right