Edited by D.L. King, Under Her Thumb showcases the very best Fem Dom erotica today. This anthology is a feast to be savoured by those whose desires lean toward the bottom or the top, but will also give the curious a sexy glimpse into the secretive world of S/M. From a foreword by Midori to stories by greats like Rachel Kramer Bussel, D.L. King, Teresa Noelle Roberts, Dominic Santi and more, this exciting collection is a unique and fresh exploration of BDSM.
“Bottled and Bound” is the story of a dominant woman and her submissive partner. There are typical themes of power play within the story, echoed by the monarchic overtones of the character names (Regina and James) as well as the familiar tropes of BDSM activity including riding crops, black velvet cords and a cross. As with all the stories in this collection, Brocker’s writing is a combination of efficient storytelling, combined with an eye for the exciting, enticing and erotic.
See full review here (scroll down to find Under Her Thumb).
From Amos Lassen:
The most amazing thing about this collection is the variety and diversity of stories. Too often in erotic anthologies we get the same old stories again and again so I must commend King on her selections.
See full review here: Under Her Thumb – Yes Ma’am.
From Lori Perkins:
Great collection of stories about dominant women with terrific variety and creativity. DL King is a master anthologist and this is one of her finest collections.
And then, just seconds after James had eased drops of massage oil onto his palm, the bottle slipped, and vanished into the bath water with a heavy plop.
Regina glared into the mirror in front of the tub, meeting James’s horrified expression in its reflection.
“Well, get it out!” she snapped.
While he fished in the warm, lilac-scented water, chanting over and over how sorry he was, Regina sighed, disappointed. So very disappointed.
Her expression didn’t reveal the strange delight that was rising within her.
James had done everything right that evening. The key word she had texted after she finished work, Shattered, had told him what she expected. She’d come home to a house decked in candlelight, to have James remove her coat and heels and store them in the correct places, to devour a sumptuous repast rich with cream and tomato, and imbibe the two glasses of sparkling wine James had poured her. Afterwards, he’d offered her his arm and brought her upstairs to the bathroom, steamy with hot mist, all white marble and gilded edges, in pride of place the long bathtub with curled, gold lion’s paws. He’d undressed her, and pointedly ignored her nakedness, even as his cock was clearly half-hard through his black jeans, and hadn’t touched her but to help her into the tub. Regina had sunk back into the water, scented just as she knew it would be, and relaxed for a good long while, knowing that James would be sitting on the stool, waiting for her to request a massage.
Ever since the day, a year and a half ago, that James had rescued her dropped handbag from the escalators at the nearest tube station, he had been willing to do anything for her.
“Anything?” Regina had asked on their third date.
“Yes.” His answer was utterly sincere.
Still, Regina had been surprised when he’d agreed to her exact terms. Very pleased, though. He was distinctly attractive, with fine cheek bones and a striking profile, and the pale brown hair that would always suggest boyishness. Lucky to find him didn’t begin to cover it.
It had taken her a year to teach him how she wanted her house run, how she liked her meals, how she needed her clothes ironed. James adjusted his schedule to work mostly from home so he had time to do as she expected. As good as he was, he had also learned the hard way that variations or forgetfulness would earn him a swift punishment.
So too would clumsiness.
She had trained him well, so well that even though her eyes were closed, his hands would not stray to his cock and stroke it through his jeans. Regina had thought, though, that he would have known that resting something on the lip of the bathtub was a stupid thing to do. Apparently not.
The massage was one of her favourite parts of this ritual. And now, the bottle – a decidedly expensive bottle – was spilling its contents into the bath water. He was still babbling his apologies when he drew it out and tried to shake the water out of it.
The steam itself stilled as James froze, meeting Regina’s eyes in the mirror. She straightened up, still glaring at him, and said;
“Finish what you started. We’ll continue as usual, and look to your punishment after.”
James nodded. “Yes, m’lady.”
M’lady. It had taken him a long time to say it without awkwardness; now it flowed with the natural ease of a knight’s tribute.
He reapplied the oil to his palms – this time putting the bottle down on the floor. The massage was competent, but the tense anticipation of what she would do later permeated each touch and squeeze. His face was full of concentration, and his breaths were juddering.
Regina relished that, her lips curling in the mirror, parting as if she could taste his fear.