1. 'Phoenyx: Flesh and Fire' Sample: Svetla


    Date: 5/19/2016, Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Lesbian Sex, Author: Morgana_the_Stripper, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    To celebrate the official publication of my first erotic novel, 'Phoenyx: Flesh and Fire Erotic Memoirs of a Striptease Artist', here's a juicy sample wherein our Berlin stripper heroine Phoenyx is challenged to a very public battle of wills an ideologies by the Amazonian dominatrix Svetlana. It's the late 80s and the Cold War is beginning to thaw...everywhere, that is, except in Svetlana's mind. Winner takes all....loser suffers total humiliation in front of a packed house... " “I think Sweaty Lana wants a word,” Petra confided in me quietly as I turned up for my wage packet one Saturday. “Which word's that?” I asked, “Smirnoff?” “She didn't say. You never know, maybe she's looking to share some glasnost now that Mr. Gorbachev seems to be tearing up the red flag in her country.” “Well it would be about time,” I said. “Don't think I've exchanged more than a few dozen words with that awkward madam since I first came here.” I found her backstage, where she was working out with dumbbells, topless, and admiring her triceps in the mirror as she did so. “Afternoon,” I said. “I believe you wanted a word with me?” She finished her set, silently mouthing the reps before even bothering to look at me. I was just about to turn on my heel and leave when she bashed the iron weights to the floor and said, “A word? No, a challenge, more like.” “Challenge?” I repeated. “A challenge for what?” “Why, for superiority, of course.” I laughed, having failed to expect anything so heavy or ...
    dramatic. She didn't get the joke, and her narrow eyes got even narrower. “What?” I gasped, realising that she was serious. “Yes, don't look so surprised. I know what you want. To be the top. The big star of this place. You think you have Bruno in your pocket? Heh. Well, I can show you who's boss.” “You can try,” I said, still wondering why it had taken this long for her to decide that she didn't like me. Although perhaps my recent changes to my set and attitude were beginning to cramp her style. “It's more than just pride at stake. It's East vs West now, you Berlin bitch.” I wanted to shrug her off with a laugh and a wave of her hand, but the chill hostility which seeped out of her very pores was something I knew I would have to deal with, stamp on, and put out of my life completely. The only way to handle this strange new antagonism was to face it head-on, and hope that I was strong enough to defeat it. “Try acting the Bolshevik with me, you balloon-breasted heifer, and I'll tear your bl**dy Red wall right down,” I snarled back. “I never saw my Father again thanks to that atrocity, so back off. I don't have any fight with you, and never did.” She passed behind me and caught me by the hair as she went, yanking me off balance. “You see? That's fighting talk. You act peaceful but your mouth spits war.” “Unhand my hair. You're hurting me.” She yanked me hard. “If I do this again, will you cry?” she sneered. “No, but I might get angry enough to kick you in the tits. And I never get ...
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