Taming Hope: Western Menage Series, #3

By Samantha Madisen

Penniless and out on the street, Hope Lee turns to the only place she can find work, the brothel. Trying to put her best foot forward, she convinces the Madame to give her a chance. With the contract signed, Hope finds herself the property of Madame M. But when the Doc comes by for her examination, she can't control her temper long enough and winds up over his knee, with the prospect of a job looking worse than it ever has before. 

Clint and Madison have a feeling there's something different about the town they just rode into, they're just not quite sure what it is. They quickly find out what their hunch is about when the hotel is full and they're told to look for beds at the brothel. One glimpse of Hope and the men know she's to be their bride, all they have to do is convince her of it. 

Realizing that she's got a gal with too much sass on her hands, Madame M is only too happy when the two rugged cowboys offer to take the fiery tempered new girl from her. 

Soon Hope finds herself the object of not just the stern men's affections, but also their discipline as they begin to show her what it means to be a Red River bride. 

This 29,000+ word erotic western includes themes of anal play, spanking, bdsm and mfm, mfmm menage. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thirteenth Line Publications
• Release date: Oct 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519996749

Book preview

Taming Hope

Western Menage Series Book 3

by Samantha Madisen

Copyright 2015 Samantha Madisen

Thirteenth Line Publications

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, companies, organizations, products and events in this book, other than those that are clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, companies, organizations, events, or products, is purely coincidental.

All characters depicted in this story are 18 years or older.

Cover characters are models. Image(s) is/are licensed from:

periodimages.com/depositphotos.com

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Hard Times

Chapter 2: No Room

Chapter 3: Doc's Examination

Chapter 4: An Impromptu Ceremony

Chapter 5: Sealing the Vows

Chapter 6: First Training

Chapter 7: Both at Once

Chapter 8: Finding a Third

Chapter 9: Taking a Third

Chapter 10: The Machine

Epilogue

Chapter 1: Hard Times

Hope

Having been brought up the way I was, the last place I expected to find myself was in front of a brothel, looking for work. But there I was.

It wasn't a decision I had taken lightly. In fact, it was barely a decision at all. When Pa had died, the only person left to take care of me had been my step-brother Seth. But he'd hated me the whole time we were growing up and not much changed after Pa passed. He'd given me three months to find a husband. Said he wasn't going to pay my way. I tried. Heaven knows I tried. Seth even helped, if you could call rounding up drunks from the bar and bringing them over to have a look at me helping.

Well, they weren't all drunks, I suppose. Some of 'em were good men. But they were all the type that wanted a woman who'd shut up and cook and clean and give them what they needed without having to give a thing back. They'd usually pass once I opened my mouth. Running my mouth was what Seth called it. I guess they just weren't used to women that had an opinion. Well, that's where my opinions had gotten me, on the front steps of a whorehouse with nowhere else to turn.

May I help you? were the first words I heard when I stepped inside and pulled the heavy door shut behind me, my eyes adjusting to the reddish darkness of the place. The voice belonged to a woman about twice my age. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun and the red dress she was wearing matched the decor of the place. I took a deep breath. It was all I had left. I'd tried everything else.

I'm here for work. I could barely believe I'd heard the words come out of my own mouth. Her expression changed immediately. The stern lines around her eyes melted a bit and she looked me up and down, like she was appraising what I might be worth. It still felt like a terrible mistake, but there was nothing else I could do.

Well, young lady, the woman said, stepping out from behind her lectern before we even begin to speak you'll have to tell me how old you are.

Nineteen years old.

The scowl returned to her face and I wondered if I'd said something wrong. Maybe I should have lied and said I was older. If this didn't work out, I didn't know what I was going to do. Am I...am I too young? I asked, feeling a flush of embarrassment heating up my face already.

That's not the trouble, the woman said curtly. The trouble is young ladies who walk in here and answer questions without putting a 'ma'am' at the end. Step through here. She opened a door leading to a small room with a desk behind her and I shuffled in, my head hung low to avoid her gaze. Alma, come take care of the front. I've got business to attend to, I heard her say down the long corridor.

Yes ma'am, I heard a woman's voice say and a few seconds later saw a girl my age walk past the door. The dark haired woman turned to face me and closed the door behind her. The light in the room was brighter than in the hall and she took a few steps around me, her eyes running up and down my tattered clothes as she tried to get a good look at me.

What's your name.

Hope Lee.

Her brow furrowed even further as her eyes locked onto mine. Hope, ma'am, I said, staring right back at her this time. She folded her arms across her chest and her face took on a smugness. Just because I was about to give up my womanhood didn't mean I had to give up my dignity too.

I'm Madame McBeth but you can call me Madame, or ma'am, as you just did there. And you'll learn to do it with a little more humility if you really want to be gainfully employed in this establishment.

I felt a hot fury rising up inside me. I was none to fond of being talked to like that by anyone, much less some old crow. But I stilled my flaring temper. I had to find it in myself to listen and follow orders. Whether I liked it or not, it was the last hope I had.

Very well. Madame, I said, careful not to stare too long at the woman, lest it catch her ire.

That's better, but I know your type.

Her words surprised me and I looked at her at once, wondering what she meant by them. I bet your Pa never taught you how to listen or respect, did he?

My Pa's passed on, ma'am, I said quietly, trying to ignore the swell of regret that rose in me at having to say such a thing.

I'm sorry to hear that but it doesn't answer my question.

I believe he taught me as well as he could, ma'am.

Never laid a hand on you though, did he?

I shot her a look I shouldn't have before I could stop myself. That's what I thought. Her words fell with a thud onto the hard wood of the floor. What in the hell was this crow going on about, I wondered. You see my dear, I've had a few like you come through here. Tried to groom them. Tried as best I could to help them. But every single time they didn't like something the men did, well they'd have a thing or two to say about it and the men didn't like that none too much. You even know what goes on in a brothel?

This time I couldn't help the red that started burning up my face. Truth was, I knew that something went on in a brothel concerning men and women, but I was ashamed to admit I had no idea what that something was. I looked away for a long time, hoping she would fill the silence with an explanation, but that stubborn old bat did no such thing. She just let us stand there, the silence hanging thick between us until I had no choice but to look back at her and shake my head.

That's what I thought. Why don't you take a seat. I shuffled over to the chair she was pointing at and tried to look anywhere but at her while she settled onto the edge of the desk. A brothel, my dear, is a place where men come to fuck.

The words hit me like a wood beam up the side of my head. My eyes went wide and there was no hiding my utter shock at what she'd said.

Do you know what fucking is? she added, a hint of a smile curling one side of her lips.

Though I had some inkling of what it might be, I couldn't say that I was terribly knowledgeable of what went on between a man and a woman behind closed doors. In fact, I'd often wondered why my parents had shared a bed, though I usually just explained it away by telling myself it was probably warmer that way. I didn't want to come off as completely stupid though, lest it hurt my chances at employ.

I suppose I know that...I guess what I mean to say is that...there are certain aspects of... I tried starting the sentence a number of times but not once could I finish it. The truth was, I couldn't find anything to say that wouldn't completely betray my ignorance of