Giselle's Best Fetish Erotica - Giselle Renarde - ebook
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From kinky costumes to sex dolls, Giselle’s got you covered! In this spanking-new collection, find fourteen tales of discipline and bondage, dressing up and role play, voyeurism, public sex, food and toys and so much more! Award-winning author Giselle Renarde has written erotic fiction for hundreds of anthologies, and her work is anything but ordinary. Giselle’s Best Fetish Erotica includes quirky original stories and fantastic fan favourites to tickle unexplored regions of your sexual mind. Surrender to temptation today!

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Giselle’s Best Fetish Erotica © 2016 by Giselle Renarde

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.

Cover design © 2016 Giselle Renarde

First Edition 2016

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

Table of Contents

Disclaimer

Giselle’s Best Fetish Erotica | 14 Kinky Sex Stories | By | Giselle Renarde

Night Nurse

Massive Attack

Must Love Dolls

That’s Not a Scrunchie

A Thief in the Night

The Birds and the Bees

Don’t Break the Chain

The Fattening Room

Black Lace and Wood

In Tooth and Claw

Crush

Bless Me Father

Here Lies Rob in his Dirty Clothes

Dogging the Law

ABOUT GISELLE RENARDE

Giselle Renarde | Canada just got hotter! | Want to stay up to date? Visit http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com! | Sign up for Giselle’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/R4b11

You might also enjoy: | Femdom Lesbians | Two Erotic BDSM Novels Featuring Women Who Dominate | By Giselle Renarde

Giselle’s Best Fetish Erotica

14 Kinky Sex Stories

By

Giselle Renarde

Night Nurse

“I don’t know about this...”

Joanne clawed at the covers, kicking her feet beneath the sheets.  “Oh, come on!  Who can resist a sexy night nurse?”

“I guess.”  The bathroom door opened and Steve emerged, fresh as a daisy.  “But I doubt this is what most men have in mind.”

Joanne sat up in bed, giddy as hell.  “Oh baby, you’re making me drool.”

He turned to trace both hands down the curve of his ass.  “Does this dress make my butt look big?”

“No way, baby.”  Joanne kicked off the covers.  “I’m ready for my physical, but I must admit, I’m a little nervous.”

“You’re not the only one, sister.”  Steve pulled on the tight white mini-dress Joanne had coaxed him into.  “Why is this thing so short?”

“It shows off your thighs.”  Her gaze drizzled the length of his stellar white stockings.  “And, baby, you’ve got sweeeet thighs.”

When she reached for them, Steve hit her hand away.  “That is not proper patient behavior!”

“I’m sorry, Nurse... what’s your name?”

“Ratched.”

Joanne laughed out loud.  “No!”

“Okay, it’s Nurse Betty.”

“No!”  She rolled around the bed, in fits.  “Pick another one, baby.”

“Settle down, now.”  Steve pinned one shoulder to the bed, and the warmth of his hand on her bare skin sent a pulse straight between her legs.  “That’s a good girl.”

Her breath grew shallow as she looked up at his closely shaved face.  He’d put on a touch of lipstick, a little blush, and some subdued eye shadow.  The mascara made his blue eyes pop.  When he smiled, she nearly passed out.

“I like your hair.”

Steve cocked his head, twisting strands of the blonde wig around one finger.  “Oh, you!  Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Will it get me here?” Joanne asked, sneaking her hand underneath his starched cotton dress.

“Naughty, naughty!”  Steve clicked his tongue, moving Joanne’s hand to the mattress. “Were you raised by wolves, young lady?  Let a girl do her job.”

“Lift your skirt.  I’ll give you a job that’ll blow your mind.”

“Hmm?  What was that?”

“Nothing, Nurse.”

Steve set his hands on his hips and shook his head.  “No wonder none of the other clinics will take you.”

She reached for his crotch.  “I’m baaad.”

With a squeal, Steve shuffled backwards.  His cute canvas tennis shoes squeaked against the hardwood floors.  “Keep those hands to yourself, young lady, or I’ll have to bring out the restraints.”

Joanne arched forward.  “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Just watch me!”  Steve grabbed the Velcro pads from the dresser and strutted haughtily to the bedside.  “Hands against the iron posts.”

“Make me!”

“You’re fighting a losing battle, young lady.”  Steve grabbed both wrists as she tussled against him.  “Don’t even bother.  You’ll never win.”

“Yes I will!”  She kicked her feet and whipped her hair while Steve velcroed her wrists together.  Of course he was right—he was too strong to beat, and his muscles surged as he secured her hands to the iron bars of their headboard. 

So she bit him.

“What the hell!”  Steve jumped away from the bed, cradling his wounded arm.  “You little bitch!  I’ll have you locked up for assaulting a medical professional.”

“Do your worst and I’ll do mine.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?”  Joanne struggled uselessly against the Velcro.  “It means you’ve got a dirty little secret and I could easily expose it.”

“Expose it?”  Steve’s cock jumped so hard Joanne could see it through his skirt.  “Why, whatever do you mean?”

“I think you know.”  Her feet were still free, and she grabbed the hem of his skirt between her toes, lifting it up.  “Well, well.  What have we here?”

“Brat!”  Steve quickly covered himself, but the image of his thick cock branded itself on Joanne’s brain. 

“I saw it,” she cooed, picturing the bulge of his cockhead beneath those tight white stockings.  “You’ve got a big, hard cock under that skirt.”

“How dare you?” 

“Don’t deny it.”  Her foot found his erection and stroked it under his skirt.  “Oh, you like that.  My little foot rubbing your fat cock—you like it, don’t you?”

“This is most inappropriate,” Steve said, but he didn’t push her away.

“You’re a naughty night nurse.  You just love it when wayward patients dig out your dick.  Don’t you?”

Steve’s eyes flashed.  “I’m a medical professional, young lady.”

“Oh yeah?”  Joanne put on her brattiest airs.  “Then why haven’t you examined me yet?  If you’re such a professional, do your damn job.”

Squirming toward the edge of the bed, Joanne opened her legs.  The position was a little awkward, with her hands bundled over her head and secured to an iron rod, but she’d give anything to feel his hands on her just now.

“I will do my job,” Steve said, picking up a pair of latex gloves.  “And I’ll do it by the book, thank you very much.”

Joanne’s pussy pulsed as she watched her husband snap on those sheer gloves.  They clung to his fingers the way those white stockings hugged his firm erection.  God, she wanted that monster in her mouth.  Steve looked so hot in his naughty nurse getup.

“Where do you want to examine me?” Joanne asked.

“Right here is fine.”

She giggled like a schoolgirl.  “I mean where on my body, silly.”

“I see.”  He set his palms on her splayed thighs and pressed down. His strength surged through the muscles in his arms.  “This is as good a place as any.”

“Oh.”  Joanne gazed at him through the valley of her breasts.  Her skin jumped when he opened her pussy lips with his sheathed thumbs.  She could feel his heat right through the latex.  “You’ve done this before.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “It’s my job.”

“In your professional opinion, Nurse, would you say I’m sufficiently juicy, too juicy, or not juicy enough?”

“That’s easy.”  Steve pierced her with one thick finger, and her cunt rang out with a wet squelching sound.  “Hear that?  You’re wet enough for two.”

“Ooh!”  Joanne’s muscles seized as Steve rubbed that sensitive spot just inside her pussy. “That feels good.”

“It’s not supposed to feel good,” Steve clucked as he jammed another finger inside her.  “I’m measuring your cunt capacity.  It’s a scientific procedure.”

“Like hell it is.”

Steve said, “Fine,” and pulled out.

Joanne put on a pout.  “I didn’t say stop.”

With a smirk, he shoved them back in, filling her cunt so full she thrashed against her bindings.  It hurt so good, the way he stretched her open with those thick, firm fingers.  This felt different with gloves, strangely naughty. Those weren’t her husband’s fingers, oh no.  They belonged to the naughtiest of night nurses—the one who’d secretly shared her bed for nearly twelve years.

She squealed when he dove between her legs.

“Just testing your reflexes,” Steve cried, crawling up the bed.

When his tongue met her clit, every muscle tensed.  “Oh no.”

“Oh yes, young lady.”  He wrapped his mouth around her pussy, sucking every swollen fold.  Joanne hollered and shrieked, but she couldn’t fight him anymore—she wanted this too much.  His lips traced sticky pink gloss all over her pussy lips.  He kissed them like a mouth.

How was he doing that? 

Pressing her heels into the mattress, Joanne hoisted her hips up, feeding Steve her pussy like a warm slice of strawberry pie.  He growled as he ate her, cupping her ass cheeks with two gloved hands.  She missed his fingers, but if all went as planned, she’d surely get a crack at the huge, throbbing cock beneath that prim white skirt.

A ball of fire lit in Joanne’s belly, and she bucked against Steve’s face.  Her body had a mind of its own.  Rubbing her fat clit up and down his hot tongue, she cried, “Yes, you naughty bitch!  Eat my fucking cunt.  I’m gonna come so hard.”

Steve grunted his approval, letting her stroke her eager cunt against his tongue.  Would she have gotten off so fiercely if it wasn’t for the wig and the make-up?  It seemed like she always came hardest when Steve was dressed to impress.  There was something about seeing her guy dressed like a girl that really put her over the edge.

“Eat me!”  She rammed her wet cunt against his face, finding the rhythm and the speed that took her up and over.  “Yes!  Right there, you naughty thing.  Just like that.”

He kept at her as she came, and even when it felt like too much, he refused to let up.  Her pussy fluttered, her belly flipped, and the muscles in her thighs locked tight.  She struggled to get away, but it was no use.  Velcro was a powerful tool when it wanted to be, and Steve’s gloved hands clung to her ass.  No chance of being set free.

She arched higher off the bed when his tongue found some forgotten spot between her thighs.  The edge approached faster than before, and suddenly she was over it again, freefalling off the precipice of orgasm.  How did he do that?  The man in the nurse’s uniform made her scream until her throat ached.  She couldn’t get enough.

Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration.

“Too much,” she said, closing her legs to push his head away.  “Too much.  Oh God, I can’t take it anymore.”

Steve backed away from her swollen pussy, grinning like a demon.  “Your reaction times are beyond reproach.”

Joanne couldn’t stop panting, but she managed to giggle.

“Make no mistake,” he went on.  “I’m not done with you yet.”

She caught her breath just long enough to say, “I sure hope not.”

Massive Attack

Mandi’s at a birthday party.  Ashanta works weekends.  The house feels fucking creepy when Jim’s home alone.  Too quiet.  He snaps on the TV and settles into the baby-blue recliner—a relic from his mother’s house, but comfortable as all get-out.

What’s that?  Is something creaking upstairs? 

No, it’s nothing.  Not a damn thing.  House to himself and Jim can’t relax, hearing goddamn ghosts in the attic.

Grown man afraid of a creaking floorboard.  What a dink.

Wait, there it is again!

A creak.  For sure, this time.  That’s no ghost, no way.  Footfalls on the stairs, panther steps, barely there. 

His muscles freeze.  He’s incapacitated, can’t even turn his head.

And now it’s too late.  There’s a tearing sound, like splitting the seat of your pants, and duct tape wrangles his chest.  His heart hammers the dull grey seal.  It’s a whirlwind as the man in black secures him to Mom’s blue recliner. 

Some great protector he turns out to be!  Thank God Mandi and Ashanta aren’t home.  If there’s one thing Jim can be thankful for, it’s that his beautiful daughter and sweetheart wife will be spared.

His hands are free, but a lot of good that does him with his arms taped down.  His fingers are numb anyway.  So are his legs as the guy secures him to the chair, stringing tape round and round the recliner.

The guy... the... guy?  The person, all in black.  The person... with breasts. 

Wow, those are some hefty boobs under that black turtleneck.  She’s got nice full hips, too.  Sweet ass.  Sweeeet ass.  The swell of that round bottom enlivens Jim’s senses.  His body comes back to life.

She tears off the end of the roll so briskly cardboard snaps off with the last of the tape.  Strutting around the chair, she stands before him, hands on hips.  Her black pants fit so snugly he can make out a hint of where her pussy splits.  Her belly curves like there’s one more on the way.  And those tits!  A huge, heavy swell of flesh sucks him in like a vortex.

But those big fricken’ doe eyes win the day.  Her glistening lips score a close second.  He can’t make out any other features beyond the black ski mask.

She leans in, finding his cock and rubbing with the meat of her palm.

“I’m hard,” he says.

She smiles, as if to say, “Well, duh!”

The belt comes off, the zipper comes down, and she pulls his stiff cock from his pants.  Her gloves are so buttery-smooth and the situation so fraught that he almost comes right away.  He’s staring at her tits and that isn’t helping matters, so he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

His dick pumps precum all over her wrist.  He’s getting her wet.

Her smile hasn’t faded.  She sinks to her knees. 

As she gazes at him like a horny fawn, her lips meet his dick.  Instead of simply swallowing it, she traces his cockhead round and round like she’s putting on lipstick.

“Just suck it, already!”  Jim jerks and struggles, but what can he do?  He’s stuck to the floor.  He can’t lift the chair.  “Come on, please just suck my dick.”

She raises an eyebrow—he can’t actually see her eyebrows, but he’s sure she’s doing it—as if to ask, “Who’s in charge, here?”

Her tongue slides out from between her lips.  Pink velvet.  He can feel its softness even before the first lick.

She should have taped down his hands. 

As sensation swirls like a hot hurricane, the vigor returns to his fingers.  He reaches awkwardly for her shoulders and presses them down.  The effort pays off, because she licks his dick in sweeping circles, making his cock jerk, making him moan.

Finally, he wins.  She consumes his cock like a last meal.  She eats him voraciously, not savouring his skin, but devouring it.  The TV blares in the background, and he can’t fully shut out the infomercial, even as she sucks his dick.

Her leather gloves leave no prints as they circle his shaft, drawing his attention away from the TV.  His erection is wet with saliva, so her fist travels easily up and down.  That girl knows what she wants, and she’s taking it.

When she smacks his balls, leather snaps against his tender flesh.  “Hell, no!”

“Hell yes,” she says, telepathically. 

He can read her thoughts.

Pounding his meat, she sucks him voraciously.  Her gloves bring a new level of tightness to the throttle.  Hand around dick.  Palm hugging balls.  She squeezes.

How could he not come?

His thighs shudder under the weight of her boobs.  Sensation falls out of his arms.  If his pulse races any faster, it’ll fly right out of his body.  No holding back now.  He lets go, coating her throat, and she swallows like she loves it.  Every spurt.  Every shot.  She gulps it all down.

When she sits back on her heels, Jim laughs.  Utter disbelief.  “You gonna cut off all this tape now?”

An impish smirk crosses her lips. 

“Crazy woman.”  He shakes his head and asks, “How’d you get the afternoon off?”

Must Love Dolls

It’s not like she caught him browsing Japanese love dolls. Honor wasn’t the kind of type of wife who checked her husband’s internet history.  They didn’t hide things from each other. 

Tom didn’t have to disclose what he was shopping for, or awkwardly broach the subject, because his computer was right there on his lap while they watched TV.  He simply turned the screen in Honor’s direction and asked, “What do you think of Natsuki?”

“Very sexy,” Honor said, though her focus remained with CSI: Miami.

“Her breasts are huge for an Asian girl, but I guess that’s the fantasy.”

“Mmm-hmm.”  Honor glanced at the photo again, trying to piece together what she was seeing: a gorgeous girl in a lime green fishnet top, big breasts, no bra. Jean cut-offs, shaved pussy, no panties. She looked closer, not at the photo this time, but at the website itself.  “Wait, Tom, is she... she’s not real, is she?”

He laughed.  “Real as in flesh and blood?  No.  No, she’s a doll.”

Screw CSI in all its incarnations—Tom’s find was much more interesting.

“She looks almost human, doesn’t she?” he asked.

Honor licked her lips as she stared at those perky peach nipples.  “More than human.  She looks... she looks good enough to eat.”

Tom’s hand found her thigh.  “You want to eat Natsuki, do you?”

“Is she, like, physically... physiologically...”  Honor couldn’t remember the word.

“Anatomically?”

“Anatomically, yeah.”  She took a deep breath, but her lungs quivered.  “Is she anatomically correct?”

Honor looked up from the computer screen to meet her husband’s self-assured grin. He said, “Natsuki’s got it all.”

* * * *

When she arrived at their door, it was like Christmas morning. 

Natsuki started life on the other side of the planet, shipped all the way from Australia.  She cost nearly as much as Honor’s used Honda Civic, but unlike the Civic, Natsuki had no previous owners.  Nobody had ever taken this girl for a ride.  Honor and Tom would be the first.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about her,” Honor said as the scooped handfuls of packing peanuts out of the huge reinforced cardboard box.  “Maybe it’s the eyes, or the lips.  I don’t know, but I literally haven’t gone one day without fantasizing about this girl since that night you first showed me her picture.”

Tom smiled.  “I can’t remember the last time I saw you so excited about something.”

“I get excited about you,” she said.