Have you been wondering if you should preorder my up coming release or not?
Here is a sneak peek into chapter one to help you decide.
Dark clouds collided together outside of the grocery store, and a strong wind picked up the trash, skittering it across the parking lot as she hurried to pick up a few of the forgotten ingredients for her Master’s Dinner. It was early afternoon, but the ominous gloom in the sky made it feel much later. The first few rain drops started to fall free from the clouds and splattered over her hunched shoulders before she reached the door. Thunder boomed through the atmosphere as she entered the brightly lit shop.
The weather man’s threat of the coming storm had packed the town’s little grocery store, making it far more difficult to grab the items on her very short list. What should have only taken her a few minutes was finally finished after half an hour of standing in the long lines at the slow moving check out. She grabbed a newspaper and held it over her head as she made her way back through the mechanical doors and out into the parking lot.
The brewing storm had come to a head while she shopped and now the rain fell from the sky in diagonal sheets instead of random drops. Holding her groceries tightly to her chest as she skipped carefully through the puddles, the submissive maid never saw the tall man in a long trench coat shadowing her every footstep.
Several feet from her car, a hand with a drug coated cloth was roughly slapped over her nose and mouth. Her screams never had the chance to form as the two brown paper bags, filled with fresh produce, fell from her limp arms and scattered across the dirty parking lot. The soaked newspaper she used to protect her hair flittered to the ground to land in a puddle and be swept away to the storm drain.
Because of the booming storm, there were no other shoppers in the parking lot to gasp with shock and surprise. She was easily whisked away from the area before any authorities could be called or even a local hero could stop the man holding on to the unscented cloth. Her wilted body was thrown into one of the club’s blacked out vehicles and taken in for preparation.
The Fox Hunt would take place as soon as the weather improved, and just as her Master had warned, she had no inclination that she would be snatched up out of her routine on this blustery day in the middle of July.
Her supple body was driven to the Fox Den, all while she slept in the drug induced stupor. A large young man, a male slave of the club, carried her from the vehicle and into the grooming station. He laid her on a high table and slipped a small sedative into a flowing vein in her arm for when the chloroform wore off. He carefully but quickly removed all of her clothing.
Her dark blue jeans and black lace panties were slipped off her pale thighs and folded before being placed into a bag that would be returned to her later. The male slave also removed her tee shirt and black bra with clinical efficiency and added them to the designated bag for her belongings. She had no jewelry, except for the delicate chain of a day collar she wore around her neck which the servant left in place, for now.
The young slave used a small nozzle on the end of a flexible hose to wash every inch of her marble flesh. When her skin was a slight rosy pink from all of his scrubbing, he then rinsed and dried her carefully. He watched her face for signs of her waking, but she rested easy. All of her features were relaxed, as if she were simply asleep at the spa.
Her long hair was a joy for him to wash. He coated the tresses with thick suds of the rose scented shampoo that was favored by the Master of the Hunt, and when that was settled in he then washed it away as well. Next, he lathered her hair in a conditioner made for the rich and famous, something only Goddess’s should be allowed to enjoy. The next time he rinsed her heavy hair out, it felt like woven silk between his fingers. The brush he used to untangle its length broke through any hidden knots and soon he was able to twist the black mass into a single French braid down the center of her head.
His last task was to shield her skin with a high SPF sun screen that would protect her porcelain body while she was being hunted down by the club’s finest gentlemen. The Terrier of the hunt knocked lightly on the door to the grooming station and the young slave turned to him with a sincere smile.
“This one is just lovely.” He mused while moving the length of her long braid over her shoulder.
“Indeed she is. I hope she gives the boys a good run. They need it after last month’s lazy whore.” Like every other young woman before her, the fox to be would have an hour’s head start before the hunt truly began. What she does with that time is simply up to her. Last month’s female fox merely kneeled in front of the calvary, effectively killing the sporting mood. Then she was taken to the play house to be used in such a way that would drain the men’s agitated attitude from being denied their hunt.
Her use of the head start may have been regretted.
“She will. Even in sleep I can feel her spirit. Her body is lean, but strong, with taught muscles just waiting to spring into action.” The grooming slave stroked a hand down her bicep before moving to put his tools away. “I do hope to see her again soon.”
“We’ll see.” The Terrier patted the male slave on his leather clad ass before scooping up the pretty fox and leaving to deposit her in the stables where they would wait out the weather and the drugs.
Go get your copy to find out what happens