Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Slave for resale, plus a new bundle

Hello everyone. My obligations besides writing have been slow, so I've been working on making up for some lost time. Here's the latest story:


And an excerpt:
I was drying off with the bathroom door open when I heard the door’s lock click open. I scrambled out of the bathroom and onto my knees in front of the bed, hair still slick with moisture, body freshly scrubbed. I smelled of soap and shampoo instead of the stale interior of Ronnie’s sedan.
The door swung open and I realized belatedly that anyone else in the hallway was going to get an eyeful. It was too late to move without looking ridiculous though, and a part of me wanted to show off anyway. For just a moment, I fantasized about what Ronnie could make me do if the hotel had room service, the sort of special tip he could make me offer.
I shook it off and wondered if those impulses had been there before my brainwashing, if a part of me had always been so slutty, or if it was another change inserted seamlessly into my personality by some faceless technician.
Either way, it was only Ronnie, a plastic bag of takeout in hand. He raised an eyebrow at my pose, and nudged the door shut behind him without taking his eyes off of me. As it clicked locked again, he asked, “I take it you’re feeling back to normal, then? All your memories right where you left them?”
“Yes Sir,” I watched as he set the bag down and slipped out of his shoes, then said, “Everything is very clear now. Everything that matters, anyway.”
He peeled off his own shirt and asked, “What minor details aren’t?”
“What you’re going to do with me after our little road trip,” I looked at his feet instead of his face as I asked, “I take it that you didn’t steal me for yourself?”
“Not so much, no,” Ronnie chuckled softly and replied, “But that’s for the best. I think you can do better than seeing every convenience store in the Continental United States. Besides which, you won’t remember me in another day or two. Trust me,” he unbuttoned the fly on his jeans, “Some things are better in small doses.”
He seemed amused by the notion, more than anything else.
As he dropped his pants around his ankles, I asked, “So where am I going to end up?”
 Per the usual, it's already available on Smashwords, and will soon be cleared on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.


I've also decided to put this in a bundle with two other recent stories:



In addition to Secondhand Slave, his bundle contains A Tough Act To Swallow and A Hard Bargain Driven. As with my other new release, it's already available on Smashwords, and I expect it to clear Amazon and Barnes & Noble at about the same time.

Thanks for reading, and I hope to have more stories done in the very near future! :)

xoxoxo
- Jessie

Saturday, July 18, 2015

A Hard Bargain Driven

Here's a look at my latest offering:


And an excerpt of the text:
“Oh,” the doctor glanced at my hand, “The ring will need to come off too.”
I looked down at my wedding ring, white gold with a two carat diamond. I knew that I should care about letting it out of my sight. For the past five years, I’d worn it almost nonstop, and never had it out of arm’s reach. Beyond that, it had cost about six grand altogether - Greg had had a very good year, before he proposed to me. It was tasteful, it was lovely. Objectively, her request should have been a big deal. 
All the same, trying to be concerned was like leaning on empty space. I just couldn’t muster the slightest dismay. After a moment’s hesitation, I slipped it off and dropped it in the bin, atop my sweaty nightie, and said, “Right.”
I didn’t bother to ask if I’d see it again. It was part of my old life.
The doctor smiled at me and said, “That’s very good compliance.” She offered Nathan a sidelong glance and asked, “Did she really get this far on just two months of conditioning? I mean, I know you’re good, but that’s very impressive.”
“Conditioning? Like… we’re talking about my hair, right?” I blinked in confusion. I felt a strange tingling sensation at the word. Despite the question I was pretty sure that they weren’t talking about my hair care.
“Actually,” Nathan said, “It was only six weeks. Tina here is a complete natural, one of the best subjects I’ve ever encountered on an assignment.” He smiled at me and said, “We’re just talking about how receptive your mind is to hypnotic programming. What can you tell the good doctor about your experience with hypnosis, Tina?”
‹Receptive.›
‹Hypnotic programming.›
“I have no experience with hypnosis, Sir.” The words fell out of my mouth, completely automatic. Hearing them made me feel muddled though. On the one hand, I knew what I said was true: I had never been closer to a hypnotist than watching a stage show on TV. On the other hand, I had the intense sensation that I’d forgotten something important, the sort of feeling I might get if I left the oven on, or left my keys at work. The more I tried to focus on it, the more slippery it felt.
It's already available on Smashwords, and will soon be posted to both Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Hope you like it, and are enjoying your summers. :)