#WIPIT Wednesday – Preview of The First Chapter of THE TIES THAT BIND #BDSM

It’s time for me to release the first chapter of my biggest book ever! It’s sitting at around 115,000 words at the moment and it’s a bit of a monster. Hope you enjoy 😉

The Ties That Bind

Will Mark Matthews accept Redcliff’s terms for his daughter’s release, surrendering both body and mind to the enemy? Petal’s sanity depends upon the fact, for in the sixth and final book of Pony Tales she is to discover that the fate in store for her at Albrecht is not a pretty one.

Shipped off to Leyland Forbes in a steel cage, the pony-girl will have to endure all sorts of imaginative bondage and BDSM at his palatial manor, as her body is photographed intimately by several of the world’s top photographers. As the day progresses she will find herself taken out to dinner in chains, before being cleverly and expertly divested of her virginity.

Trouble awaits when she returns to the stables, however. One of the trainers has taken a monstrous dislike to her and intends to prove his superiority, both in the dungeon and beyond.

Escape is beginning to seem like an impossible dream…

Cocoa

Mark couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t your normal, run-of-the-mill insomnia, either. This time the stress payload he was carrying was nearly impossible to shift. Submission! The dirty old bastard wanted to see him brought low, but for what? His breathing hitched and he could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead. That damn phone call had broken his cell. He’d been so shocked at Redcliff’s request that he’d dropped the thing. Get a grip, he cursed, feeling his fingers shaking around the pan of hot milk he had simmering on the range.

It was three am in the morning and he was making cocoa, of all things. Apparently, the stuff helped you sleep. Something about milk and an amino acid called tryptophan, but he wasn’t convinced. This was his third mug and the cloying chocolate was beginning to make his tongue curl in distaste. He didn’t want to think about Redcliff and his insane request, but typically, that was all his subconscious wanted to focus on, and he was beginning to realise that he’d need chemicals in order to get the asshole out of his system. For a man who always prided himself on his exemplary control, resorting to sleeping tablets was the absolute last straw. It would be almost as if Redcliff had won before the battle even commenced. So cocoa it was.

What did the man want? Not money, as he’d originally thought, but he most certainly wanted something. He’d put too high a price tag on his daughter, though. Mark’s body was not for sale. He’d travelled the submission route a long time ago and it was an experience he didn’t care to repeat. Once upon a time he’d had barely a penny to his name and once upon a time, he’d have done nearly anything to succeed. That was many years ago, he’d chosen his path and he’d known the consequences.

Back in his teens, when he’d dropped out of college due to lack of funds, he already knew where he wanted to be and, more importantly, how to get there. The trouble was, he’d needed money and plenty of it in order to achieve his dream. He’d been frequently propositioned by women, even back then, but he’d always refused them. Mark hadn’t been bothered by the fairer sex at all in his youth. Sure he’d had some fun with them, but he was far too focused to let them take up much of his time. When they got whiney and needy, as most of them did, he got rid of them immediately and moved on. All of them had swiftly gotten the hint, except one.

He let his thoughts trail back to Sophia. She’d been his ticket to ride. He owed her everything that he was today, but she’d demanded an astronomically high price in return. Sophia had been twelve years his senior, and back then the age gap had been insurmountable for him. She’d been a woman of the world, well travelled, with a high-profile career and she was frequently spotlight fodder for the paparazzi. The pair of them regularly met on his early morning jogs around Hyde Park, but although she smiled at him, he never gave her more than a cursory glance in return. Over the years he’d discovered that smiling at the wrong woman was dangerous, and he knew without a doubt that Sophia was not someone he wanted to mess with. She had an unshakeable air of confidence about her, eyes that spoke of cunning intelligence, and a beautiful body that was built for fucking. He knew she wanted him. Every time their paths crossed, and it was more frequent than it should have been according to the laws of chance, he could feel her lingering glance upon him, and the turn of her head as he jogged past. Here was a lady who was used to getting what she wanted. It was too bad she’d picked the wrong man to throw her lures at. He was simply not interested.

Sophia had been smart enough to bide her time and wait. She’d had him under surveillance, although he hadn’t known that at the time, but when he dropped out of college, she’d known what kind of trouble he was in. Even then, she hadn’t pounced. The woman had watched him apply for a ton of jobs, none of which he acquired due to his lack of experience, and then she had let the despair of soaring rent prices and stacking bills creep upon him. Her timing, when she finally did approach him, could not have been more perfect. He was nearly on his knees with despair, but little did he know that in a few days’ time, he’d be on his knees with a whole lot more than just depression on his mind.

The woman entered his life by brazenly blocking his exit out of Hyde Park’s Queen Elizabeth gates one day. She’d stood stock still in the widest stance she could manage with her legs shoulder width apart and her hands on her hips. He could have run around her, but it was clear she wanted to speak with him and knowing he would probably run into her sooner rather than later, he figured he’d stop and put an end to the silliness once and for all. Feigning a politeness he did not feel at her intrusion, he asked, “Can I help you?” If his tone was a little clipped, it was simply too bad.

“No,” she’d answered him with a calculating smile, “but I believe I can help you.” He’d looked at her darkly then, shaken his head and made to walk past her, but she’d held out one arm, stopping him in his tracks and said, “Here’s my card. Just read my offer. That’s all I ask.” He had taken the cream vellum business card from her proffered fingers, which had been expensively embossed with gold swirls, without really thinking about what he was doing. Before he could give it back she had neatly sidestepped out of his path and continued on her way, leaving him to stare at the twisted wrought-iron flowers, leaves and spirals that decorated the length and breadth of the magnificent gates. It had taken him several seconds to gather his wits and continue onwards. When curiosity led him to examine the card, the front was fairly harmless and told him that she held the position of Chief Financial Officer at a prestigious law firm in Chelsea. He remembered whistling. Whilst he was no expert in salaries, he knew enough to know that the woman was loaded. Turning the card over in his hands, he hadn’t really expected to find anything on the reverse, but there in scripted handwriting was just one word. Sex. It accompanied the figure of one thousand pounds. His jaw had hung open all the way home.

He hadn’t accepted her offer at first, but neither had he thrown the card away. You had to be pretty desperate to accept an offer like that and he had been sure there would be a job for him just around the corner. There hadn’t been. Two weeks later he had no money, no food and two days until his landlord threatened to evict him. His level of hopelessness had spiralled to such a degree, that he decided a one-night stand with an attractive lady couldn’t be all that bad. Still, he’d sat outside her office for two hours before he’d summoned enough courage to walk in.

It was clear Sophia had been almost as surprised as he was, with regards to his presence in her bureau. She’d almost taken a step backwards when she found him propped upon on a black recliner waiting for her. Her gaze had quickly hardened to a pinpoint stare as she’d coolly assessed his presence.

“Your offer expired a week ago,” she said, and her tone was not friendly.

Mark offered her a lazy smile, one that belied his racing heart-beat and sweating palms, and had simply said, “Then write me another.” She stared at him for the longest ten seconds of his life, before answering. “Meet me back here at seven pm, sharp. If you’re late, the offer is null and void.”

He hadn’t been late.

The milk slopped into his powdered cocoa with a lot more force than necessary and he had an Icelandic geyser moment, where it whooshed out of the mug, did a double backflip and then landed with a wet splat against the flat surface of his ceramic hob.

Goddamn. Jumping backwards to avoid the scalding hot liquid, he could at least be thankful that he hadn’t managed to burn himself. What was wrong with him today? But the question wasn’t even worth asking. He knew exactly what was wrong. Redcliff had dropped a bombshell and now his ordered little world was fraying around the edges. He didn’t need a trip down memory lane right now. That part of his past had been over a long time ago, but he took a moment to wonder if the old man knew about it. It was doubtful. It wasn’t the sort of thing you spread around in general conversation and he couldn’t imagine Sophia having talked. She’d had far more to lose than he, should the details have been leaked.

Mopping up the mess of spilt milk and chocolate, he let his gut instinct take over. Clearly Redcliff wanted something. Mark had no doubt he’d love to have his hide bent over double and spanked raw, but that wasn’t the main reason for his little request. There was something bigger at stake here. Money, power, control – it might be any of those things that the old guy wanted, but Mark’s submission would be secondary to the equation.

The trouble was, Mark knew how men like Redcliff operated. The word ‘no’ was not in their vocabulary and if one avenue of attack failed, he would most certainly have a back-up plan. It was the back-up plan that concerned him. No way in hell was he willingly going to agree to flatten himself out at Mr R’s feet, but if a few wheels turned in the right direction and a few palms were greased, he might just find himself exactly where he promised himself he would never be again. Whilst Sophia might have pushed him to his limit and beyond on more than one occasion, Redcliff would be looking for more. He would want blood, sweat, and tears. Let’s face it; the man was clearly unwell. He wouldn’t be winning any father of the year competition in the near future, and if he was capable of doing that to his daughter, hell only knew what he had planned for him. Rolling his fingers around his two throbbing temples, he decided that at the very least he’d have to upgrade his security. Then he needed to come up with a plan. He, like Redcliff, was not the sort of man to fall at the first hurdle. He would have Ms Redcliff, one way or another, and it would be on his terms or not at all.

Keep Hopping!

1. Saucy Sadie
2. Ashe Barker
3. Daryl Devore
4. Jaye Peaches
5. Aubrey Cara
6. Alexis Alvarez
7. Jennifer Reynolds

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