Mrs Fisher's Guests - Book Three

By James Missaglia

The third book in Mr Missaglia’s chronicling of a dominant and erotic landlady sees her becoming even more controlling and inventive with the man who has taken lodgings with her.

Poor Patrick is now docile to the point of being a canine and is no longer in a position to deny his mature and irresistible landlady anything she desires.

Exotic and erotic female-led fiction for the connoisseur of fiction's most commanding heroines.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9780244877781

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Mrs Fisher's Guests - Book Three

Mrs Fisher’s Guests

A Dominant Landlady and the Guests She Controls

Book Three

By

James Missaglia

Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without prior written permission from the publisher.

© 2020

The right of James Missaglia to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with section 77 of the copyright, designs and patents act 1988. This book is sold subject to the conditions that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Mrs Fisher’s Guests

Book Three

By

James Missaglia

1

Mrs Fisher was watching opera on Sky Arts and eating a Chinese takeaway.

Patrick was kneeling on the floor beside her, his hands tied to his ankles, otherwise naked.

Occasionally she would lift her chopsticks and feed him a morsel from her plate, or give him a sip of her wine, but he was not allowed to speak.

When she had finished eating she patted his head and ruffled his hair, but like any good dog, he was not allowed up on the sofa.

She did not often truss her plaything up like this, but then she did not often spend the evening watching television. It was an indulgence and she had even dressed for it, with lots of dark satin and heavy makeup. In keeping with her mood, she turned on the room’s uplighters and placed a few candles around for atmosphere.

I think watching opera this way is far less satisfactory than being in the theatre, but it is a lot more convenient.

He might have agreed, but he had been told to remain completely silent, on pain of having his balls whipped.

And she meant it, too.

When La Traviata was finished, she sat back in the sofa, quite contented.

An evening well spent, I think. I've seen that production in Milan, it’s one of my favourites.

She ruffled his hair again.

Hmm. Now what am I to do with you, eh? she mused. You've been quite obedient, haven't you, just sitting their patiently.

She tickled his neck and he leaned in to her caresses.

You're a very good boy, yes you are, she told him, in exactly the tone of voice you would use with a Labrador as he responded with the same dewy eyed enthusiasm.

In the end she turned him around and opened her skirt. She was wearing underclothes but they were minimal, easily brushed aside by an enthusiastic tongue. She deftly put her legs over his shoulders.

I think this would end the evening nicely. Don't begin too quickly, I love Verdi but he doesn't get me wet.

Patrick understood. He began with long, slow strokes of his tongue across her labia. He