In prudish, patriarchal Victorian England, nineteen year old prodigy Gillian Smith finds a secret society dedicated to the erotic arts. She’ll need both her intellect and her physical charms to earn the permanent position she craves.
Inspired by a salacious catalogue found in her deceased uncle’s library, she applies for an apprenticeship with the Toymakers Guild. The Guild fabricates bespoke sexual artifacts for the private pleasure of select clients – an occupation for which Gillian, with her technical abilities and her lascivious temperament, is eminently suited.
The other apprentices, initially skeptical about a female engineer, become enthusiastic supporters once they’ve tested her erotic aptitude. The voluptuous Governing Director, and the dashing French journeyman likewise help expand her carnal repertoire. The final decision, however, rests with the reclusive Master Toymaker, who has been missing for nearly two years.
When an unscrupulous nobleman sets up a competing enterprise, he threatens not only the livelihood of the Guild’s members but their lives as well. Gillian hatches an audacious plan to entrap the villain, save the Guild, and leave the absent Master no choice but to grant her heart’s desire.
If you like steam punk erotica with a kinky feminist bent, you’ll love The Pornographer’s Apprentice.
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Red welts now streaked the journeyman’s back. Amelia surveyed her handiwork, apparently taking a break. “That’s half of what you’re owed,” she told him. “However, the next dozen strokes won’t be so easy.” She rummaged in her box. “I’m sure you’ll remember this. One of your cleverest designs.”
She held up a bulbous device, tapered at both ends, about two inches in diameter at its largest. A quartet of wires flowed from the base, terminating in broad rubber cuffs.
Sébastien groaned. “Mr. Bosley’s electric arse stimulator? But we delivered that more than six months ago!”
“I had Mr. Fawcett and Mr. Burns build a duplicate. Just in case. Fortunately for you, I have plenty of lard…” Suiting actions to words, she scooped some waxy white substance out of a covered jar and smeared it over the device. Spreading Sébastien’s rear cheeks with one hand, she pressed the greased plug against his sphincter with the other. “Just relax,” she crooned.
“I’m trying, ma’am.”
She reached around to grab his erection, using it for leverage. He shuddered at her touch. “Don’t fight me, boy. You know you won’t win.”
“Oh – oh, Mistress…”
Pushing and twisting simultaneously, she finally seated the bulb in his rear channel.
Gillian moaned in concert with the victim, her recently reamed arsehole twitching.
“Such a brilliant concept,” she continued in a even tone as she fastened the cuffs around his thighs and upper arms. “Harvesting the power of the user’s own kinetic energy, I mean. The more frenetic the struggles, the more intense the electrical stimulation.”
Gillian immediately grasped Sébastien’s dilemma. Poor man!
Amelia smoothed the curls away from his forehead, then dropped her hand to his rampant cock and squeezed. His jerk of pleasure turned to a cry of pain as the devilish toy delivered a shock to his tender rectum. “Are you ready for the second dozen strokes, my boy?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he managed, through gritted teeth.
“Very good. Now try to stay still…”
The lash snapped, landing on his shoulder. Reflexively, he flinched away from the blow. The sudden movement activated the electric plug. He let out a wail, his back arching as the infernal thing in his arse came to life.
“One,” intoned Amelia.
The next stroke carved a red path across his buttocks. This time he managed to keep himself still enough to avoid being shocked.
“Two,” called his tormenter. Before he could catch his breath, the whip flew once more, slashing across the backs of his thighs.
“Mon dieu!” he cried, shaking as electric pulses wracked his rectum.
“Three. Are you all right, Sébastien?”
“And if you need me to stop?”
“I’ll say ‘Logarithm’,” he replied. “But you need not worry. Finish the punishment, Mistress. I deserve it.”
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh