Serving: Curvy Submissive & Older Dom BDSM

By Q. Zayne

Cleo struggles with her feelings for her Master as Marcus explores and trains her. The island's secrets lure her into danger.
If you enjoy BDSM focused on a woman's pleasure and male dominance within a relationship and a character-driven story, welcome to Submission Island!

Digging deep in a suitcase pocket, I withdrew a camouflage scarf like a magic trick. You never knew when you might want to do a military scene, or need a blindfold or gag. Bandannas had so many uses. I tied it around my neck with a quick-release knot, envisioning whipping it across the attacker’s eyes to confuse him, knocking him down, and tying his hands behind his back. Implausible, but I was excited. I’d never envisioned myself as an action heroine before. They were always so thin.

Submission Island is an erotic BDSM serial for readers 18+. It features romantic suspense and ancient secrets. Half-Egyptian Cleo is 28 and surrendering to her first Master. Brief passages concerning past violence and death may be disturbing for some readers. Serving is the 4th episode of the serial. It's a special novella-length episode. The events of the episode resolve, and the story concludes in Sacrifices. For greatest pleasure, read episodes 1-3 before this one.
Enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Q. Zayne
• Release date: Jun 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463189207

Q. Zayne

Q. Zayne often appears on top 100 author lists. Q. minored in Classical Archaeology and has an MFA in Creative Writing from SFSU. After teaching at the university, working as an editor, and freelancing, the author embarked on a wild digital publishing adventure. Thanks to fabulous readers, super promoters, and unflagging supporters, Q. writes fiction for a living from the Yucatan, Central America, and the California coast.Check out the Quin Zayne books for dirty, high-heat romance, and Q. Zayne for Erotica and naughty fairy tales.

Book preview

Teasers

I WANTED EVERYTHING Submission Island had to offer. This wasn’t just a diversion for me. It was a rite of passage. I belonged here. Getting up the nerve to follow through meant this is who I am. I like intense stimulation. I like a dominant, sadistic man. I like sex to hurt. I want to get ****ed so hard I cry. I crave it. I need it. There’s nothing like the release of building up all that tension, feeling so controlled and so free—surrendering in that free fall, the electric bliss that burns through, and leaves me empty and clean.

EVERYTHING HE DID TO me felt like being loved for the first time.

HE KISSED ME LIKE I was life to him. His mouth burned mine. He opened my lips, plundered my mouth. I couldn’t think, I could barely breathe as he gave me his all, making my body shake and my mind spread calm as a windless sea.

Get free books, multi-author deals and giveaway offers! Sign up for my newsletter.

Serving

Submission Island 4

CURVY SUBMISSIVE & Older Dom

BDSM

Marcus & Cleo

BY Q. ZAYNE

Copyright

DO NOT POST ANY OF our stories on any site.

Copyright renewed ©2018 Hughes Empire. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be copied, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express written permission of the author except for brief excerpts in a review. Cover photo ©Deposit Photos and the photographer, all rights reserved. The use of this photo doesn’t suggest endorsement by the photographer nor the models, nor does it imply anything about the models.

First electronic book publication: June 2017, 2nd edition May 2018

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual businesses, entities, creatures or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All people and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. This story is for mature readers 18+.

Dedication

TO T, FOR HIS WISDOM, kindness, and generosity,

and to D, who inspires me with her spirit and discipline.

A special thank you to the authors and promoters boosting my books.

And to my readers. I treasure your reviews.

Dancing to Him

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Many books in Erotica contain immediate and frequent sex scenes with no heart connection. This isn’t that kind of book. If you enjoy BDSM focused on a woman’s pleasure and male dominance in a loving relationship, welcome to Submission Island.

MARCUS LICKED HIS LIPS and followed my movements with his dark eyes. He sat back in the armchair, his eyes half-lidded like a cat’s.

Dropping my hem, I raised my hands over my head and clapped them in a slow, hard rhythm. I roiled my hips like magma in a volcano’s belly.

I stepped to him, swiveling and raising each hip high as I approached. I sensed his cock deep inside me as I churned. I hungered for him. I could launch myself onto his lap, but I knew he wanted the tease, the sex dance that made me more naked than undressing. He enjoyed witnessing my desire, the core-level burn I felt for him.

Alright, I’d show him.

I leaned toward him, rolled my breasts in his reach, and danced away. I savored how much he wanted to touch me. It showed on his face. This dance came easier than the first. I wanted to show him my desire.

Spinning in an accelerated beat, working imaginary veils, my heat built, shaking my breasts for him. I presented him with my ass, working my hips low and high, alternating fast and slow, keeping the sensation of his big cock inside me. His face became a mask of lust.

He reached toward me, I danced away. I played my air veils over my face and body, tantalizing him. My feet arched and dropped, my calves and hips tightened. I worked my ass in a figure eight right where his fingertips could graze and arched out of reach before he touched me.

Ecstatic in my inner music, I spun away. I whirled in place, raising my hands overhead. My hair whipped loose. With careful control, I worked my head side to side in the isolation move I saw him perform. It felt so right to me, giving him a dance from my heritage, a dance of my mother and her mothers before her. Rolling my head, I camel-walked to him and dragged my hair across his body.

He grabbed my hair. I slid away, letting him pull it. I felt wanton, but not submissive. Bad me.

I spun in the other direction. The inside of the tent felt heavy with sultry air, so hot and moist it condensed on my skin. My husband held my hand, his face anguished. I was going to die giving birth to our first child. Tears ran down my face. I whipped away. It felt like me, me and Marcus,