Forced Oral – Quinton’s Crucible by Trent Evans 1


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This is quite possibly the BEST book I’ve read this year and, with hesitation, I will say the best Trent Evans book I’ve ever read.   I feel like I’m cheating on Maintenance Night or What She’s Looking For, but this book left me with my mouth open, shaking  my head, and barely able to breathe I was so turned on by the scenes and riveted by the storyline.

I know some of you are already shaking your head and saying, “Nope.  I don’t like F/m (Female/male)”  Don’t be hasty, not yet.  This is a book about a Dom, a bastard alpha-hole, who is forced to submit to a Domme as payment for his sins.  Yes, you will love this trust me!!  Quinton’s alpha male, dominance is always present or lurking.   And, to be honest, I fell in love with Anna too.

The chemistry and sex appeal oozed off the pages. I beta read this book, and I told Trent that I think he has a freedom in this genre that he doesn’t always feel in M/f.  He can be as harsh and kinky as he wants with F/m without worrying about women being upset or offended. I’m truly hoping we’ll see more F/m from Mr. Evans.

Take a chance– you won’t be sorry.  This is such a glorious ride for the same price as a cup of coffee.  Do yourself a favor this weekend and read it

This excerpt (and you will only read part of it) is one of the hottest ones in the book and I begged for permission to post it:)  Enjoy!

“Come over here.” She pushed her chair back, pointing at the floor at her feet. “Right here. On your knees.”

He didn’t move at first, then shuffled forward reluctantly. Kneeling down, his knees thumped against the floor with a velocity that probably didn’t feel particularly good.

“You’ll get better at that.” She leaned forward, loving the way his position thrust her breasts closer to him. It was both a tease, and a way of reinforcing her power over him. She knew submitting to a female was galling enough — emphasizing her advantage here, both physically and psychologically, by thrusting those symbols of femininity in his face, was something she very much enjoyed. “Your life up until now has revolved around that cock of yours, hasn’t it?”

He didn’t say a thing, staring steadily at her.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, boy.”

“I don’t know.” His nostrils flared, his eyes flashing just a moment of defiance. “Yes, I guess. I’m a guy.”

“Not any more you’re not. You’re a slave now. More to the point, you’re my slave.” Anna unzipped the side of the dark denim skirt she’d changed into before she and Ivy unstrapped the hapless Quinton from his bench of woe. She’d had to peel herself out of absolutely sodden panties. There was no way she was going to ruin any more that day.

His eyes dropped down as she opened her thighs, easing the skirt up until it bunched at her hips. She smiled at the feel of the cool air on her exposed sex. It had been a while since she’d shaved, and the bush she presented to him was thicker than she normally kept it. He’d just have to deal with it

.

“The days of your cock being the center of your universe are over, boy.” She tapped the top of her slit with the tip of her finger. “This is to be your focus now. You wish to please me, yes?”

He nodded, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes not leaving her sex.

“Well, pleasing me, means pleasing this. My pussy is going to be the first thing you think of when you wake up, and the last thing on your mind before you slip off to sleep. This is the center of your universe now, boy.”

His cock began to fill again at the words, and she met his eyes, letting him know she was watching it.

“Interesting.” It was all she said as she watched it pulse, rising slowly, until it jutted up from his crotch.

“You like eating pussy, Quinton? Is that it?”

“I don’t think — I don’t know.”

“When was the last time you pleasured a woman with that tongue of yours? Be honest, or I’ll strap that impudent cock until it goes soft again.”

His eyes grew wide. “No… I’m sorry. I haven’t done it in years — I think I was a teenager, maybe.”

“Why? Is there something you have against vaginas? Afraid of a nice, hard clit?” She drew a finger through her folds, collecting a thick coating of sticky juices. “Are you one of those foolish boys who thinks pussies are sort of… gross?”

She’d had a few subs who’d exhibited a mild distaste for it, at first.

Silly men.

When she’d gotten done with each of them, lovingly running their tongue between her wet labia was the only thing they could think about.

Quinton would get there someday — and she knew she was going to love getting him there.

She touched her wet finger to the tip of his nose. He flinched ever so slightly, but it was far more than she’d ever permit. She wanted her slaves salivating at the mere scent of her arousal.

Taking hold of a fistful of his hair, twisting hard, she jerked him closer. He put his bound hands upon one of her thighs. Despite the surge of electricity that ran up her leg to earth in her clit, she shook her head at him.

“You don’t use those hands unless I tell you to.” She shook him sharply by the hair, a pained sound escaping from his clenched teeth. “And you definitely don’t touch me — ever — until given permission. You understand me?”

“Yes.”

She wrenched on his hair, and he winced. “Try again. Louder.”

“Yes, Mistress!”

“There, isn’t that better?” She cooed it as she spread her wetness around each nostril, painting his nose with it. “Take a deep breath, boy.”

Amazingly, he did, his cheeks flooding crimson.

His abject obedience had her clit throbbing, her nipples hard enough to etch glass.

“That is your Mistress — that scent is all you care about now. Not that cock, not whatever it was your silly little mind was consumed with before. Here? In my house? Wearing my chains? Your only concern is making this pussy happy.” She thrust two fingers inside, the wet sounds jarringly loud. “Very happy.”

Pulling her sodden fingers free, he seemed to know what was coming, his eyes closing.

“Open up.” Her nail prodded at the corner of his mouth.

Reluctantly, he complied, letting her push the digits inside. “Take them all the way in. Going to be good practice for what’s coming too. Taste me.” She smiled down at him. “You know I expect you to lick all of it off. You’d think I wouldn’t have to instruct you on that.” She sighed dramatically, taking firm hold of his hair once more, as she pulled her fingers from between his lips.

Leaning down, her nose almost to his, the spicy note of her arousal strong, she looked him in the eyes. “You will always — every fucking time — lick me clean. Completely clean.”

Then she slapped his face with that same wet hand, his wide-eyed expression equal parts shock and pain. Before he could register what she’d done, she smacked his other cheek, harder this time, his head rocking to the side.

“Do we understand each other?”

She squeezed his locks still further, and he grimaced. “Yes, Mistress.”

“You’re a good boy.” She patted the cheek she’d just slapped, an angry mark already blooming upon his skin, the distinct image of multiple fingers beginning to take shape in the red splotch filling in. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Presenting the fingers to his lips, he quickly licked them. Watching him patiently, she made soft, encouraging noises to him as he fervently worked.

“Much better!” Then she pinched his chin between thumb and forefinger, and brought his lips to hers. The whites shone in his eyes as she kissed him deeply, allowing her tongue to wander into his mouth. It was only when he seemed to relax slightly, his own wet tongue stirring against hers, did she pull back, smiling at him again.

“You see? When you please me, you might be rewarded.”

Staring at her for another long moment, he seemed stunned into silence. Right where she wanted him.

“Now then. Back to the subject.” She sat back, her fingers easing through the dark, wiry hair covering her mound. Her breath caught as she used two fingers to spread apart her bright pink labia, the motion moving her hood against her aching clit. She knew she was but a breath from exploding like a supernova.

She just hoped she could hold out until his sweet face was buried deep in her cunt before she did it.

“Get to work. I want to see what your technique looks like now — then we can work on training you to improve it. For your sake, I hope you remember how to do this.”

Swallowing hard, he met her gaze. She wasn’t sure exactly what she saw there, but she thought most of all, there was the sweet glimmer of fear, as if he doubted he’d be able to perform up to her standards. It only ramped her arousal up still higher.

Anna very much liked her slaves to fear her displeasure.

Taking hold of his hair once more, she drew his face against her sex, his nose probing into her pubic hair. “You don’t stop until I give you permission.”

His tongue snaked out tentatively, swirling at the tip of her slit, clumsily seeking her clit. She sighed, yanking him back harshly. He brought his hands up in a protective motion.

“Don’t you dare move those hands. Keep them down.”

He complied, but he glared at her, both his cheeks bright red now, as if he’d just come in from a long walk on a cold night.

“If that’s what you think is eating pussy… then we’ve got a lot of work to do to get you trained up to my expectations. Your poor little tongue is going to be very tired, my boy.”

She touched her swollen labia, running the tip of her finger down her seam. “You’re going for my clit right away. No. Do not do this. Your job is to warm me up, to worship my pussy with that tongue, those lips, that face. It’s all mine — and you will service me the way I like. I don’t care how long it takes. You’re going to learn how to use that mouth properly, Quinton.” Pulling him against her again, holding him tight, she let her head lean back, the feeling of power over this man only making her sex drip still more. “When you start, use the flat of your tongue. Stick it out — just like how you’d lick an ice cream cone.” Incredibly, when she pulled his face back enough to see it, he complied. His pink tongue was long and broad.

Very nice.

She’d have to talk to Leah about the possibilities there as well.

“Good boy,” she said, patting his cheek. “Run that tongue between my lips, slowly, gently. But before that, we’re going to get one thing out of the way right now. When you’re required to service a pussy, mine especially, you better put out of your mind right now any idea that the only thing you’re doing it licking cunt. There’s a lot more there than just a clit.

Start low — I want that tongue right on my asshole. Keep it there until I tell you.” She slid her hips forward a little, still holding him by the hair, spreading herself still wider to give him access. “Get right in there,” she said, holding him, guiding his face against her.

She sucked in a quick breath as his nose eased between her labia, the hot, soft, wet tongue plastered to her bottomhole.

Oh God, that feels so good!

Her anus was exceptionally sensitive, and she intended to instruct him on the proper way to lick her there as well, but for today it was just a taste — she smiled at that — of things to come.

His breath was so hot against her tissues as he held still, obediently waiting, his broad tongue spread upon her secret hole. It was a sweet, quiet moment that she held him there, drowning in the erotic, lustful power at having him perform so intimate a service — and directed entirely by her.

It was a twisted turn-on to her that she was using his face as a glorified sex toy.

“Now lick — slowly. One long stroke through my lips.”

He obeyed and she shivered as he did it, his tongue running up her perineum, then slipping between the labia.

“If you can’t taste me, you’re going too fast. There… slower. Slower.” She sighed. “That’s it.”

The tip of his tongue rode up toward her clit, and she stopped him with her hand. “No. Not yet. Again. This time, as you lick between the lips push your tongue deeper.”

When he didn’t comply right away, she jerked him by the hair. “I shouldn’t have to ask you to start. You should have already been licking. Now, tongue on my ass, stubborn boy.”

The hot, wet tongue pressed to her secret opening again and she sighed. “Now, go.”

Again, his soft tongue slowly explored — and again, he had to be pulled up short from licking her clit, no matter how much it wanted to be licked.

This time she pulled his head back so she could look at him. In silence, she stared into his eyes, searching them. Then she slapped his face again. He gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing, and she slapped him across the other side.

“We can take all day doing this if you like, boy. You will learn how to service your Mistress. How long it takes is entirely up to you.”

“Okay! I’m… I’m sorry!”

“You can show you’re sorry by actually listening to my instructions.” She gave his head a sharp shake by the hair, his wince making her smile. She yanked him back down then, pressing his face to her throbbing pussy. “Now, get back to work.”

Trust me you will want to read more of that!!  Click on the links below or the picture at the top to purchase your copy.

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Product Description

 

As it so often was, my choice was obedience, or pain.

When they held the whip, or the cane, or the crop, my eyes always focused on the hands. The way the fingers caressed the braided leather of a handle, the way a maroon painted nail would catch the light as the cane sliced through the air, my bound body waiting to be reacquainted with its old friend agony.

I knew what they wanted, what they expected. But I never cooperated. They’d never make me give it to them.

I always chose the pain. No matter how bad it was — and there had been times that it was awful — it still paled next to the bitterness of obedience, of bowing.

To her.

Never.

They liked to make me wait. But it wouldn’t work either. I would endure, and I would prevail.

The door opened, the subtle zephyr of air across my chilled skin bringing me back to the present. I straightened my back, raising my chin. It was an unspoken expectation that I was to look at the floor in their presence, but I wasn’t about to meekly conform to their insane demands. It would cost me, I knew, but nothing came without cost in this place. I would show them I was no cowering dog.

I would endure.

The sound of the heels on the smooth concrete always echoed, and as a result I could never tell how many of them had entered, how many would witness my ordeal, participate in it, savor it.

Then the heels appeared in the circle of light shining down upon me. So, it was to be only one tormentor this time. I dreaded it when it was only one, for oddly, it always lasted longer, the pain was always worse.

But I would endure.

“Do you know how long you’ve been in this hole?”

My blood ran cold at the sound of the silky smooth voice, the cool confidence, the edge in her slightly clipped cadence. It was her. I was certain of it.

Anna.

I was afraid, but she’d never know it.

I would cry out before the end, a seething mass of marks burning across my skin. As always, I’d try to hold back the tears. I wouldn’t let her see them. Not ever. I would not scream. I would not break.

I would endure.

My punishment was always merciless, but that wasn’t the worst of it. It was what happened afterward.

Those words.

She whispered them against my welted skin, as my muscles trembled and spasmed, pain wracking my shoulders, the stripes upon my back like flames licking my flesh.

It wasn’t her lash that I feared.

They were the words she spoke to me, before leaving me to my agony, my solitude. Each time, they threatened to undo me — and each time I heard them, they were more seductive.

“Surrender to me.”

Finally, the harrowing story of Quinton Trask’s ordeal can be told. This novel can be read as a stand-alone, but the experience will be much richer if the reader has previously read Her Troika, Book #2 in the Dominion Trust series.

Publisher’s Warning: This dark romance is intended for mature audiences. 18 and over only!

This novel contains the following themes or activities: pervasive F/m BDSM, capture fantasy, intense and explicit sex, and other acts of unequal power dynamics. If any of these might be offensive to you, please do not buy or read this book.

Word Count: 94,532

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