Fifty Shades of Fairy Tales Omnibus Read online

  “What the hell?” I smiled. “Let’s go for it.”

  Mike grinned a wide, toothy grin. “Then let’s get started with bonding ceremony two! We’re doing it on the fly tonight. Kinda like eloping.”

  And as these words left his lips, all the lights in the bar, except for one globe light above a rounded table, went out.

  The black lacquered table became my stage, and the three brothers helped me up onto it. I sat while they strapped a combo manacle device to my ankles and wrists.

  “What’s this exactly?” I’d read about a lot of kinky devices in my life, used a few with the brief partners I’d had, but I’d never seen this one before.

  “It’s called a spreader,” the one brother explained, after they helped me stand in my four inch suede platform pumps. These were the only clothes they allowed me to keep on. “It keeps your legs open wide for us, and keeps you tied up, while we torment you.” Then he slapped my ass to punctuate his sentence.

  The table was short, and they were tall, so it was no trouble for them to administer sexual torture while I was showcased for them at this height. One produced a leather riding crop, and he ran the soft tip up my legs, flicked the tip of the crop over my swelling clitoris, then explored my now wet sex with this leathery loop. I moaned as the soft tip tickled between my labia then poked into my creamy hole.

  “Like that?” he whispered before he kissed the backs of my knees.

  “Yesss…” I groaned.

  His brother’s broad, rough hands folded around my leg and his callused palms scraped my skin as they travelled upward. He encircled my waist and pulled me back down so I sat on the polished surface now. My bound wrists pulled my ankles up, so I was completely exposed to them all, and completely helpless. All that would stop them was the safe word, and I didn’t want them to stop. Didn’t even want them to slow down.

  One brother brought out a curved vibrator with a spongy looking head, and he plunged the rounded, bulbous top into my pussy, while another brother swept a blue, fuzzy feather back and forth over my sex. My third lover suckled at my nipples while I thrashed in my bonds. I wanted to touch their sweat kissed skin, but I was denied. Wanted to touch and please them as they pleased me, but one whispered in my ear, “This is your night,” as I thought this.

  The feather left my clit and a tongue lapped over the sensitive bud while the curved vibrator sank deeper into my pussy. I writhed and moaned, my breath coming in short huffs of air, as a clitoral orgasm shuddered through me.

  The vibrator found my g-spot and hummed against it, creating a light tingling that soon amped up to an insistent throbbing. The man between my legs continued to suck, lick, and nibble my clit while the sex toy probed and pleasured deep inside of me. Soon I hit orgasm number two, and the sensation rocketed through my every cell, leaving me a trembling, bound mass of ecstasy.

  They took me over and over, reveling in my reactions to the pleasure they had to give. When we finally finished, they pulled me from the table and set me in the center of their muscled, sweat-shining flesh. They kissed me and licked their pearly semen from my skin.

  “So are we all officially men and wife now?” I asked, grinning at my troupe of fairy lovers.

  “We are.” Mike kissed me passionately. “Now, boys, let’s get her upstairs to the marriage bed.”

  I gave him a wide-eyed look and a groan, but this time more from exhaustion. “I don’t know if I can go another round!”

  He chuckled. “Oh, not only will you sleep tonight. You just might pass out in our arms.”

  ***

  The Ugly Duckling

  An awkward skateboarder transforms into a gorgeous dom.

  By Leigh Foxlee

  ***

  The Ugly Duckling

  Did I leave the bedroom TV on again? I walked up the stairs, frowning as I tried to remember my hectic morning. Kiss Corey goodbye, grab a muffin for breakfast…

  When I opened the bedroom door, I stopped mentally ticking off my before work routine and let out a scream. I couldn’t help myself.

  My husband Corey and my best friend--make that supposed best friend--Emma were screwing each other’s brains out on my brand new sheets. I hurled curses at them before I hurled the shoe I yanked from my foot. Then I turned and ran from the scene, sobbing as I went.

  Corey ran down the stairs after me, and I turned to face him as he padded into the open kitchen. Emma trailed after him. Her long, brunette curls were a tangled mess, and she struggled to keep the sheet up over her boobs as she tried not to trip over the hem. Her honey colored eyes met mine briefly, and they flashed guilt that she quickly hid by looking away.

  Corey’s gray eyes were full of fake regret and false apology. This wasn’t the first time I’d caught him in bed with another woman, but it would be the last.

  “Casey, baby, I can explain.” He gripped my arms and pressed me into the marble countertop. He tried on a sexy smile, rubbed my skin through my shirt, tried to press his cock against my thigh, but I squirmed away.

  “I’ve heard this story before,” I practically growled the words as I steeled my resolve. He was a gorgeous man. There was no denying that. And whether I hated him or not, he still had a physical effect on me. But I couldn’t let that sway me this time.

  “You told me you were going to leave her,” Emma hissed these words once she overheard our conversation. She shot daggers in my direction.

  My eyes blurred from tears, but no way would I cry again. I glared at my soon to be ex-husband and my ex-best friend. We’d been high school pals. Corey was the star quarterback. Emma was the head cheerleader, and I was their brainy little tagalong. But how brainy was I? I’d been playing this game of denial with myself for a very long time. Did a smart girl really do that?

  And the truth hit me like a punch to the gut. But then, I’d known the truth all along. Corey was using me. Always had been. After all, I was the main breadwinner. I was the one bringing home paychecks, while he made excuses about turning down good job after good job so he could go out and be the playboy.

  And enough was enough. As he leaned in to kiss me, while Emma screamed like a scalded cat about him being a traitor, I pushed my tiny hands into his massive pecs and scooted out of his embrace.

  Once I was a safe distance away, I snapped up my cell phone and said, “I want you both out of here in under an hour, or I’m calling the police.”

  ***

  Two days later, Corey was gone, and our joint bank account was drained. I stared at the computer screen readout in disbelief. All zeros where there should’ve been a nice chunk of money.

  “Bastard.” I blew a dark blonde curl out of my brown eyes and crumpled the empty paper coffee cup next to me. While I did so, I pretended it was Corey’s head.

  He’d drained every last penny we had. Phone calls to his parents and our friends turned up nothing. The guy had skipped town, or people were lying to me. Emma had also disappeared.

  Big surprise.

  The mortgage on our condo was due, and I’d just received a call that morning telling me my furniture would soon be repossessed. Thank universe I had a small personal account with only my name on it. But there wasn’t enough in it to pay all the bills, and while I had a great job as a corporate consultant who streamlined businesses for efficiency, it would take a few great paying gigs to get me back on my feet.

  So I called my guardian angel AKA my grandmother. She was a wealthy woman who’d made her money in real estate, and she’d also raised me after my parents left me, quite literally, on her doorstep.

  Gran Margie’s cell phone message informed me she was on one of her “extended vacations.”

  “Crap cakes!” I punched the END button.

  “Extended vacation” meant Gran had sold off everything and moved again. I’d get a call from her in about three months to give me her new address, ask how I was doing, and invite me to stay.

  Until then, there was only one other person I could turn to for help. My true, old best friend-
-Kerry McIntyre. She was a geek girl like me, but, unlike me, she never bowed to peer pressure. She walked her own line, and I felt like crap for falling out of touch with her over the last few years. Hopefully, she wouldn’t tell me to screw off when I phoned.

  ***

  “Holy crap! You’ve hit the big time, Kerry!”

  My eyes went wide as I took in the sprawling mansion. It was modern in design, with clean, bright white everywhere. I loved the parquet floor in the great room.

  She laughed at my exclamation as she handed me a cocktail and led me to a marble topped bar with leather covered stools. “It isn’t my place. I’m just staying here, for now. The house belongs to my brother.”

  And at the mention of Butch McIntyre, I nearly choked on my green olive. “Wow, what’s Butch up to these days?” I tried to sound casual about it, but my voice squeaked.

  “He was modeling, and he got married.”

  Modeling, married? My head spun with curiosity.

  Butch McIntyre had been a scabby-kneed skateboarder the last time I saw him. He was a lanky kid with a shock of black hair and the most amazing aquamarine eyes I’d ever seen. A quiet, awkward teen, he’d loved horror movies, his skateboard, and video games. He was two years younger than Kerry and I.

  I tried to picture that lanky, shy geek boy transformed into a male model. Then I thought about him being married, and my heart sank with disappointment.

  “So, he’s married?”

  His sister’s face saddened. “Was married. She died. Car accident.” Kerry’s eyes glimmered when she looked into her martini glass. “She was the president of the agency that represented Butch, and she left her fortune to him.”

  “Oh…I’m so sorry.” I reached out and wrapped an arm around Kerry’s shoulder, gave her a comforting squeeze. “Geez, I’m a bitch.” I shook my head at myself. “I’ve missed so much that’s happened to you, and I come running to you as soon as shit hits the fan in my life, but you never said a word about Butch.”

  She hugged me. “Don’t worry about it, hon. That was Butch’s story, not mine.”

  I nodded, thankful for her forgiveness. Then I bit my lip as I thought of Butch, our past, again. “Will he mind me staying here? I mean … we weren’t exactly friends back in high school.”

  She shook her head and grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I told him you’d be around for a few months, and he was cool with it.” She got up from the stool and drained her martini glass. “Now, I better go pack.”

  “Pack?” I gave her a perplexed frown.

  “Yeah, sorry I can’t stay with you.” She flashed an apologetic smile as she rushed toward the stairs to the upper level of the home. “I’m going on vacation with Burt. You’ll meet him when we get back. Promise.”

  ***

  Two hours later, I was alone again, feeling dejected and sorry for myself. It seemed everyone except me had somewhere to go and someone to be with. I told myself to stop moping and take a tour of the house, like Kerry said I should.

  Just as I was about to do so, keys jangled in the door.

  When Butch walked in, I barely recognized him. Okay, I’m lying, I didn’t recognize him at all. Gone was the lanky skateboarder kid with an outbreak of acne and bad hair. If I’d have met the man standing before me on the street, I’d have never known who he was.

  He stood over six feet tall, and he was still slender, but the scrawniness had been chased away by curves and ridges of muscle. His skin was smooth and pale, and the dazzling smile he flashed my way brimmed with confidence. A silky black wave of hair fell over one eye, but he moved the dark mane, which fell to his chin, away from his face.

  “It’s good to see you, Casey,” he said, his voice still soft and shy like when we were kids.

  I smiled a shaky smile. My heart kicked up its pace, dazzled by his good looks and seeing him again after all these years. My gut soured with guilt over the way I’d treated him back then. He’d been the little tagalong kid who tried to follow me and Kerry everywhere. I teased him to make him leave us alone, outright bullied him at some times, and I’m not proud of what I did.

  But it does make me wonder how he feels about me now. Has he forgiven me? I guess our time alone will tell.

  “It’s good to see you, too.” I cleared my throat to get the words out. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

  “No problem. Sorry to hear about you and Corey.” He threw his coat on the back of one expensive looking lounger. The t-shirt revealed was snug and showed off his physique perfectly. He wore a pair of cargo pants that molded to his ass and made my mouth water.

  “Thanks. Sorry to hear about your wife.” I felt terrible when his face wrinkled in intense grief.

  “Thanks.” He walked into the kitchen, keeping his back to me. “She was my world. She taught me a lot about life.” His voice went hoarse with emotion.

  Feeling like a heel for stirring this pain in him, I made my way to where he stood, staring in the open fridge, and place a hand on his broad back.

  “I didn’t mean to cause you pain.” I stroked my palm over the plane of muscle, from shoulder to shoulder. “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t stop my hand from moving lower.

  He whirled around and there was icy fire in those eyes. I stepped back, afraid I’d now angered him. But instead of anger, it appeared my touch had aroused him, judging by the massive tent in his trousers. He yanked me into his arms and spun me around. I slammed into the fridge door and it slammed shut as his lips crushed hard against mine. He kissed me breathless as I ripped open his shirt.

  Moments later he returned the favor, then his big hands slipped beneath the lacy cups of my underwire bra, freeing my large, round breasts from the fabric. His tongue danced down my throat, his teeth nipped along my collarbone, while he massaged the firm globes. Then his mouth descended on my nipples, flicking them with the tip of his tongue until they stood stiff and hard. He suckled these peaks, making them and my pussy throb like a powerful drumbeat.

  His hands skimmed down my sides, caressing my curves with soft, but strong, hands. He yanked up my skirt until my silky black panties were revealed. These, too, were soon ripped off.

  He toyed with my sex using skilled fingers that soon had me moaning against his lips and writhing in his grip.

  “Let me fuck you,” he whispered into my ear before tonguing it until I groaned. “Right now, right here, please. I have condoms…”

  “No need,” I said breathlessly as his stubble grazed my neck. “I’m on the pill.”

  “Is that a yes?” He tugged my leg up and I wrapped it around his waist. His fingers dug deep into my ass cheek.

  “Yes, fuck me now.”

  He dropped his pants and he wore no underwear, so his massive cock sprung free, its plump head glistening with pre-cum. His rigid, thick shaft was buried deep inside me within seconds. I moaned and let my head fall back as he pumped in and out of my pussy with wild abandon.

  His cock felt sublime inside of me, and my cunt walls gripped him tight, milked him for all the pleasure he had to give. His glans glided over my g-spot in a rhythm that stroked it just right. Pleasing pressure built deep inside of me as I let this primal passion take me over. Delightful tingling hummed through my clit as his pelvis rubbed against it with every thrust. I clung to his strong shoulders, now damp with sweat, as we fucked like two wild animals in heat.

  The clitoral orgasm burst through me, making me clutch tighter to his strong back as I writhed and shook with ecstasy. It heated up the bliss building deep inside of me, encouraging a second orgasm out of my pulsing cunt. I screamed out my release this time, hugging him so tightly our bodies seemed to become one as he pumped once, twice, more inside of me and spilled his seed deep. Then we slid down the sweat-slick fridge door, and he pulled me into his arms.

  We laid on the chilly tiles like that for a few minutes.

  Then, in the afterglow of multiple orgasms, I began to regret what we had done. After all, I was just coming out of a relationship, he was rec
ently widowed, and I sure didn’t want to start anything new when I was fresh on the rebound.

  I skittered out of his arms and to my feet. “I’m sorry … I … I mean, we…”

  He stood, quick like a panther, and ensnared my wrist. “What’s wrong?”

  I scooped my tattered clothes off the floor. “Well, I’m still married.”

  His sensuous lips curled into a sneer. “Corey Hildebrandt? Yeah, great guy to hold on to.” He snatched his shirt up from the tiles and stood glowering at me. “I’m still jumpy from that bastard shoving me into lockers.”

  I cringed at the memory. One time, Butch got out of the locker before Corey could fasten the combo lock. It was the only time I ever saw Butch snap, and he beat the shit out of the high school quarterback that day, scrawny kid or not. His anger seemed to give him the strength of three guys that afternoon, and I quietly cheered when he broke Corey’s perfect nose.

  But instead of telling him that, my idiot mouth blurted, “Corey isn’t a bad guy. He’s just got his issues, like we all do.”

  Butch’s beautiful eyes widened and he sputtered. He stalked closer to me, pressing his sculpted chest into mine. The heat of his body seeped through my skin and made it hard to think.

  “Isn’t a bad guy?” He scoffed in disbelief and his eyes flashed icy blue. “He’s cheated on you, what, five times now?”

  My heart hiccupped in my chest. “How do you know that?”

  His very kissable lips thinned into a tense line. As he calculated what to say, he slowly exhaled through his nose. “My sister told me.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, now once more back in my bra and torn shirt. So, his life stories were off limits and mine weren’t? Was that it? I couldn’t be mad at Kerry. She’d helped me out when I had been so out of touch for so long.