Blackmail Into Submission

By Sable Collins

Three worlds are set to align into one explosive supernova as they all weave together in a knotted grip of BDSM debauchery.
27-year-old Nimue(Nim) DeLaCruz is structuring her life to reach its fullest potential. She and her polyamorous partner; Dutch, the leader of a local riding club known as The Flying Dutchmen, have undertaken a new loan with Dutch agreeing to be the cosigner.

She now finds herself in a responsible position to make monthly payments and to boost her income as an artist, she models for her Alma Mater University’s weekly fine arts painting class. Always aware of her hungered free sexual proclivities and desires, she still finds time to cohost an online BDSM themed local role-playing chatroom as one of the main scripters. It is here where she comes face to face with someone who will introduce her to the true lifestyle of submission and sexual slavery.

But with such sexual freedom comes a cost. One that no amount of saving for is able to be maintained and very soon, Nim finds herself in a huge predicament. One that only her own bondage and servitude will satisfy and solve.

Her dreams are on the line. Her business in jeopardy. Her reputation threatened. Three worlds, many players, one outcome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sable Collins
• Release date: Apr 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463796504

Sable Collins

I write about dubious consent, cuckolding, lactation, lesbians, interracial sex and whatever else that strikes my fancy.I write stories to get people off.Some people say I'm a hack. Other people say they can't help touching themselves when ever they read one of my stories. Read and decide for yourself.

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Others in the room began to gather and watch as Nim was humiliated by this stranger. The more she struggled, the harder the slaps grew until by some saving grace, he threw her to her knees once more. Worthless WHORE! His hands traced the silk before he shrugged and ripped them clean off her body, leaving her completely naked for all to see. "Waste of good silk, right from the start!

CHAPTER ONE

Art Class

The night laid out before the girl like an ebony carpet of peat; full of dewy mist that squelched under her mare’s hooves and foretold of ripples of mud that would inevitably rise above to the fetlocks, stalling any forward progress through the bogs if she didn’t keep a strong, consistent control of the crossing.

She could see the glen just a half a hundred paces away and with a final burst of strength, she squeezed her thighs in tight along the horse’s already belabored withers and snapped the leather lead rein in one hand while wrapping her other hand’s fingers in the long knotted mane,  thrust her pelvis hard to the travel saddle pommel and through gritted teeth, urged

Come on, Wyndlyn, we’ve been through worse. Up, heeeeeeeeeeeeeeyup! she encouraged as the dapple grey finally regained her footing and stepped free onto the more solid soil of the riverbed that outlined the valley.

Sliding free of the saddle in one smooth motion, her leather wrapped legs felt like rubber as her booted soles hit the ground and for a few seconds, she clung to Wyndlyn for balance. The horse nudged the girl with a few playful but understanding full cheek rubs and nickered softly in reassurance. I know…just a bit longer, right? We don’t want to be discovered here in the open. What say you and I get over that hillock and check out the forest for the night, huh? Again, the horse whinnied and stamped the ground with one curled hoof and began to walk alongside the rider as the two made headway toward the safety of the high trees.

Suddenly, her breath was stilled in her throat like an ice flow clogging a winter sea, for there was more than a forest she discovered as the horse and girl found themselves on the outer perimeter of a rock walled encampment. Cautiously, she tethered her mount to a nearby sapling, and withdrew her sheathed sword from under the horse’s saddle blanket, swung it deftly across her left shoulder and cinched it tightly along her rib cage.

Pulling her travel cloak around her body, the girl began to stride toward the cavern entrance in an attempt to gain first strike advantage; for to be caught among the ruins could mean being accused of spying or scouting from another clan and would bring about a death sentence of that she was certain. She’d rather take the risk of assuming the role of a wayward traveler than that of a runaway slave.

Stepping inside the cavern proper, her cursory glance of the Men and Women within, told her that she had made the correct choice and take this risk as all eyes turned to the entrance. She immediately slunk lithely to her