Analise's Journey, Episode 11 Excerpt

Analise rubbed her palms on her thighs as she stared at herself in the full length mirror in her bedroom. Behind her on the bed, she could see Lena lounging on the bed. “Are you sure about this?” Analise gestured to the get-up she was wearing. 

Instead of the comfortable poet’s shirt and leggings she’d worn the last time she’d gone out with her Doms to Olivia’s, she was now decked out entirely in leather. From the shiny mini leather skirt with delicate fringe on the hem to the bustier-corset contraption Lena had stuffed her into, Analise looked like sex on a stick. Not only were her breasts uplifted by the demi-cups, but the top two-thirds of them were completely bare. Her newly pierced nipples were on display for everyone to see. Of course, Lena hadn’t stopped there. She’d also insisted that Analise don the sheer stockings with a sexy line running up the back of her legs, garters, and a barely-there thong. The high heels gracing her feet weren’t stilettos, but they still elevated her average height until she towered over her pint-sized friend. 

“Of course I’m sure, Ani. Your men are going to take one look at you in that get-up, snap a collar around your neck, and be proud to show you off at the play party.” Lena joined her at the mirror. “Girl, if I had your curves, I’d be showing them off all the time.” She smiled at Analise, while she met Analise’s eyes in the mirror. “Trust me on this.” 

Analise grumbled. “You mean like I trusted you last month, when you and Mason lent me your cabin?” 

Lena rolled her eyes. “It turned out good, didn’t it? Those men broke you in good, from what I hear.” 

Propping her hand on her hip, Analise glared at her friend, trying to ignore the memories her friend’s words triggered. She’d spent three days in a hedonistic daze, as Master and Sir had loved her until she’d barely been able to walk. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking of the pleasure they’d given her. At the moment, she needed to keep her mind on the conversation at hand. “You’re lucky I didn’t hunt you down for your part. You should’ve told me that Grim and Liam owned the property across the road from you and Mason. I took a wrong turn because I couldn’t read my own handwriting and ended up in their laps.” She tugged on the corset’s neckline once more. “That’s it! I’m changing.” 

“No, you’re not. I picked this outfit out with Liam and Grim in mind. So quit your bitching. You’ve been inseparable from them since you got back. So what if you needed a little helping hand. Besides it’s your own fault you ended up at their cabin instead of Mason’s.” 

“And you didn’t tip them off that I would be going up there?” Analise crossed her arms over her breasts, covering her still-tender nipples. 

Lena pretended to be affronted. “As if I would do such a thing.” Then a grin crossed her face. “That’s not to say, however, that I didn’t tell Mason to call a friend, and put a bug in their ear about your plans.” 

“You’re something else, Lena. Good thing, I love you.” 

Lena propped her hands on her hips and grinned. “Of course you love me. Now get your ass moving. Liam and Grim will be here any minute. You want to make sure you’re ready. Making your Doms wait is never a good thing.” 

Analise took another quick glance at the corset thing, its zipper running up the front to nestle between her breasts and the o-hooks running down either side. She had to admit it was sexy, but did she have the courage to wear it where others would be able to see it? Maybe it would be best if she changed? Maybe saving the outfit for a time when she was visiting the men at their home? She took a step towards her closet, as a brisk knock on her door filtered into the room. Her heart jumped and began to race. She couldn’t do this…she grabbed a pair of leggings and a tank top before dashing into the bathroom as Lena sighed. 

“You know you can’t hide in there forever, right?” Her friend asked as she moved to answer the door. 

©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.