Dr. Jacobs' Whore

By Elle Laveau

In this erotic tale of dominance and submission, we follow Emma's journey from a shy, career oriented girl into the world of BDSM.

When Dr. Jacobs, a professor from Emma's old collage, unexpectedly takes over the research lab Emma now works at, the old sexual tensions arise again. Things take off quickly and before she knows it, Emma is Dr. Jacobs' whore...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elle Laveau
• Release date: Apr 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301227976

Book preview

Dr. Jacobs’ Whore

By

Elle Laveau

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 Elle Laveau

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

1

When I woke up that Friday morning, I had no idea what the day had in store for me. I found myself wide awake an hour before my alarm was set to go off. I felt so uncharacteristically energized that instead of trying to fall back to sleep, I decided to start my day off early. There was no way I could have known then the turn my day would take.

Since I had an extra hour, I didn't have to rush for once. I took my time and lingered under the warm water as I shampooed my long, blond hair and washed myself with lemon scented body soap, running my hands over my curvy physique thoroughly before rinsing off and turning off the tap.

I stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror, running a brush through my long, wet locks and drying my large breasts and rounded hips with a fluffy, white towel. Because of my early awakening, I had time to blow dry my hair and apply makeup, something I rarely did for work since the majority of my time was spent alone in the lab. Instead of my usual business casual attire--which consisted of brown or black slacks and a bland button-down shirt--I spotted a black dress at the back of my closet. It was very professional looking, but I had never had an occasion to wear it. Something in me told me to put it on.

On my way out the door, as I was slipping on my black heels, I realized I wasn't wearing any pantyhose. I debated about changing into my usual attire at the risk of looking unprofessional with my bare legs. I reasoned that since I may not even see anyone during my day, I could risk it.

Walking into the building, I pulled my security ID badge out of my purse and held it against the pad at the main entrance, waiting for the beep to sound my admittance. I made my way down the hallway to the last suite on the left. Once inside,