Contents
Title Page
About This Book
Also By Megan Michaels
Copyright Page
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Other Books By Megan Michaels
From The Author
Finding Submission
Megan Michaels
About This Book
Preston Harrison is the picture of the gentleman Southern lawyer, as handsome and affable, as he was strict and precise. His ordered professional life suited him and his temperament, not a thing out of place, not an event unplanned. But he was more than a lawyer though — he was also a Dom, and he made sure his personal life and professional life never intersected. Never that is until his world is turned upside down by one Avery Beauchamp, a stubborn, adorable, and way too sassy pocket Venus.
Being the only daughter of a respected Judge should’ve set Avery up for a life of ease, of privilege. But Avery had a habit of not doing anything she should — she only did the things she wanted. Marching to the beat of her own (very smart-mouthed) drummer had always served the headstrong girl well… until the day she ran afoul of a little thing called the law.
A strict southern lawyer and a color-outside-the-lines misdemeanor offender should have been like oil and water. But when a Judge’s daughter finds herself on the wrong side of the law, she’s presented with a choice: a fine and possible jail time, or an alternative sentence. Preston — against his better judgment — finds himself agreeing to the rather unique sentence for the wayward girl: house arrest for Avery.
There was one problem for Avery though: the house where she would serve her sentence wasn’t hers — it was Preston’s. Worse, as she learns what working for the strict Preston Harrison really means — and how deep her own repressed desires might go — she fears that she might lose more than her freedom to the devastatingly handsome Dom. She might lose her heart too.
Note: This BDSM erotic romance includes the following acts or themes: bare bottom spanking and other corporal punishment, D/s, explicit sexuality, anal play, and BDSM activity including kitty/pet play. If these acts or themes might be offensive to you, please do not buy this book.
Also By Megan Michaels
What Naughty Little Girls Get
The Little Princess Cruise
Cover Design by Rachel A. Olson (Nosweatgraphics.weebly.com)
This book is a work of fiction, the characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
The book contains content that is not suitable for readers aged 17 and under.
For mature readers only.
Copyright © 2014 by Megan Michaels
All rights reserved.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my beloved husband. His unflagging patience and tolerance of my long hours and moodiness means more than he will ever know. Thank you for reading my books, and supporting me unconditionally.
Thanks to Natasha Knight for believing in me long before anyone believed in me, and giving me my start as an author. A more wonderful, awesome friend one could never hope for. The list of things that we can talk and laugh about are endless. My forever, long distance friend!
Last, but most definitely not least, I would like to thank Trent Evans for believing in my ability to write “smokin,’ hot sex” and supporting me in all my ideas and endeavors. He pushes me to my limits, making me grow. He is the best beta reader, editor, friend, and grammar geek. I learn from him daily.
Without these three people, I would not be here and Finding Submission would never have been created.
For my husband, whose love keeps me buoyed
Prologue
“Avery Rose, you knew this wouldn’t end well for you when you did it. I want you to go downstairs and sit on your spanking bench in the den until you receive further instructions. Now!”
Avery stomped down the stairs to the den. She hated that damn spanking bench. And she hated that he called it her spanking bench. It wasn’t her bench at all. She pushed open the heavy cherry door, hearing the hinge squeak. She slammed it shut. She didn’t care that he wouldn’t like it. She didn’t like being sent to sit on the damn bench, either. She sat on the hard wood staring at the corner, remembering the first time she’d been sent to stand in that same corner, a crushed, dead spider in her line of vision. At least that wasn’t the issue today — she kept the walls of the house clean.
She didn’t get what the big deal was anyway — it was only a car. It’s wasn’t like she’d ruined one of his suits, or even ruined the car. She’d just messed it up a little. Fussy and anal were definitely words that described Preston.
“Stand up.” Preston closed the door behind him and was standing right next her as she stood up obediently.
“I want you to push your pants down past your knees.”
She pushed the button through the hole on her jeans and shimmied them down over her hips, pulling her panties up so they didn’t go down with them. Like that made any sense; she knew that they would be next. But she wanted to preserve her modesty for as long as she could.
“Now your panties. Push them to your knees.”
She pushed her black panties down to meet her jeans. “Preston, I—“
“Avery, did I say you could speak?” She shook her head. “I didn’t think so. You’ll speak when spoken to. Hands on your head and turn around facing me.”
She turned and immediately his eyes lowered, staring at her pussy. While he was ogling her naked sex, she couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans. His cock was definitely giving him trouble.
Good. Let him suffer a little.
“If I run my finger through your slit, will I find it dripping wet?” When Avery didn’t answer him, he said, “Answer me, girlie.”
“Yes, Sir. It’s very wet.”
“Awesome. We’ll take care of that later. Now, tell me why you’re going to get a spanking today.” Preston crossed his arms over his broad chest, adjusting his stance.
“I ate French fries in your car. But—“
“Is there a rule about eating French fries in the car, Miss Avery Rose?”
“Yes, Sir. It’s never allowed in your car.” Avery dropped her gaze to the carpet. He made her feel like such a bad girl.
“Ever. French fries are never, ever supposed to be in my car. We’ve discussed this on several occasions, haven’t we, girlie?” Preston reached out, putting a hand under her chin, raising her gaze to meet his.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”
“Did I ask if you were sorry?” Preston’s head tilted as if he was curious about her answer.
“No, Sir. But I am sorry.”
Preston pulled her spanking bench out until it was about a foot away from the wall. “Come around your bench, please. I want you to bend over with both your hands on the wood. You’ll receive six lashes from my belt. You will not eat French fries in my car again.”
Avery bent over the bench and cringed when she heard the leather slapping through the belt loops on his jeans. The jingle of his buckle made her clit throb.
The belt lightly tapped against her bottom. Why did she have to have French fries in his damn car
anyway? She knew he would be pissed. She just hated that stupid rule. Who could pick up food smelling like hot fries and not eat them in the car? Preston. That’s who. He was just so damn methodical — it was always about the rules for him. It’s what made him a good lawyer. She struggled with submission though. She wanted to submit, but the evil Avery would kick in, and before she knew it she was over his knee, the spanking bench, or in the playroom for a punishment.
Three lashes hit her bottom one after the other. The fire that bloomed took her voice away. She didn’t yell or cry out, instead she expelled all the air from her lungs and bent at the knees several times, waggling her bottom up and down.
“I love seeing your plump ass jiggle. Can you promise to do that again on the next strokes? Please?” Preston chuckled above her.
Avery stopped immediately. She knew he loved her ass, but the thought of it “jiggling” upset her as much as he enjoyed it.
“These next three will all be to your sit spot, Kitten. I want you to keep your hands on the bench.” The belt sliced through the air and she mentally counted out the three lashes as she shouted louder with each one. The underside of her bottom was the worst, and she was never able to stoically take lashes there. She managed to stay bent over though as Preston rubbed her bottom, quietly speaking words of encouragement to her.
“Stay in position. Don’t move.” Preston walked away and she heard the drawer to his desk opening, then his heavy footfalls coming back to her.
“Let me put your collar on, sweetie.” He pushed her hair aside and she felt it sliding onto her neck. But it felt different. She reached up and it wasn’t her collar.
“Preston… this isn’t… is this… did you give me a new collar?”
Preston laughed. “Yes, I wanted it to be a surprise. I hope you like it. Turn around, here’s a mirror.”
Dancing around from foot to foot in excitement, Avery found herself hobbled with her jeans at her ankles. She leaned over to pull them up.
“Uh-uh, keep them down. I want your red bottom naked and exposed.” He winked at her. “I may need to service that ass in a minute.”
Looking in the mirror, she was so excited to see her new collar. It was white leather with black chains swooping on the front with a two inch Gothic cross in the center. There were silver glitter bells on delicate chains on the left and right side of the collar, and one chained bell next to the cross. She twisted her head to the left and the right to get a better view and then shook her head to hear the bells ring. All three jingled at one time, the sound melodious.
She turned to Preston, who had pulled his cock out, stroking the soft, silky skin. A drop of pre-cum had formed on the tip and she leaned over, her bells jingling. “Let me lick you with my new collar on, Sir.”
She licked his cock and balls, the bells tinkling in rhythm as she moved. How she loved licking him. She savored every drop of sweat, the salty taste on her tongue. She inhaled deeply, smelling the musky smell from his balls. His wiry hair tickled her nose and the back of her tongue as she sucked his balls into her mouth, gently rolling them on her tongue, the soft skin of the sac belying the firm nodules inside. She slowly slid them around in her mouth, taking care with the delicate package she was allowed to suck and lick.
“Kitty, you need to move to my cock, sweetie. I need to be in your mouth or I’m going to lose my load outside of your mouth. I need you to suck every single drop.”
Avery licked slowly up the underside of his penis, running her tongue along every vein and ridge. She loved the difference in texture going from his balls to his cock. She teased the tip of him, sucking and pulling, going deeper an inch at a time. He whistled, sucking air through his teeth, reaching out to pull on her hair.
“Deeper, Avery. Pull me in deeper. Breathe. Breathe, sweetie. Relax and let me go down the back of your throat.” Preston pushed deeper, then pulled out, giving her space to breathe before thrusting deep again. When the pace increased, she sucked him hard, hollowing her cheeks to increase the pull on him. He shouted with his release, his hips thrusting until every drop of his semen filled her.
“Lick me dry, Kitten.” The sound of her new bells hadn’t stopped yet.
When Avery had cleaned him thoroughly, he pulled her up into his arms and kissed her forehead. “Such a good girl.”
“Sir. I love my new collar. Is it okay if you find me staring at it in every mirror in the house?”
“It would be my pleasure to find you staring at it. It looks even better on you than I anticipated.”
Chapter 1
Avery Beauchamp looked at her checkbook — the car payment was due that day, and she didn’t get paid for two more days. She had already pushed the due date back two weeks. It had to be paid today. She could call her father — he’d come to the rescue before and would do it again. But Avery wasn’t willing to eat enough crow for that. She was not going to be the first one to give in; she’d wait until he contacted her first.
Judge Beauchamp loved his only daughter and doted on her. But when she’d walked out six months ago, she’d proclaimed loudly that she would do it alone with no help from him. She could’ve stayed at home and continued with her comfortable life, but her father wanted her to follow the house rules as long as she lived there. She was twenty-four and had graduated from college; she wasn’t a child who needed a curfew and rules. He wanted her to be home by midnight during the week, and two in the morning on Friday and Saturday. She hadn’t had a curfew since she’d left home. He‘d reduced her allowance, forcing her to get a job, but she didn’t qualify for anything with her degree in International Relations. And she refused to work as a cashier in any of the local stores.
The last straw occurred the night she came home at two in the morning —on a weeknight. Her father had been waiting for her in the living room.
Judge Grayson Beauchamp had flicked the lamp on in the living room when she entered the house. “Avery Rose, what time were you supposed to be home, young lady?”
Avery’s hand had grabbed at her chest. “My God, Daddy, you scared me to death!”
“Answer the question, please.” He’d dropped his chin looking at her.
“Midnight. But Daddy, we were at the local coffee shop listening to a jazz band. We lost track of time.”
She hadn’t been happy with the interrogation and had let him know it.
“I don’t care where you were. Rules are rules for a reason, and you know me well enough by now to know that I don’t back down from my rules.” The Judge had paused, staring at his only daughter. “Your disregard has consequences. You’ll now be required to be home by eight o’clock for a week.”
Avery had adjusted her stance and put a hand on her hip. “Are ya freaking kidding me? Daddy that’s ridiculous and you know it.”
“I know no such thing. My rules aren’t to be ignored, young lady, and an earlier curfew for a week will remind you of that.”
“I’m done with this. I’m moving out. I need to get an apartment. I just posted an ad on Craig’s List offering my services as a housecleaner in Brentwood. There are enough rich people out there; I should be able to get a few houses lined up. Enough to pay my own rent.”
“That’s your decision. I’ll pay your rent for the first two months and help you move out. Until then, however, you’ll follow my rules.” He’d raised an eyebrow at her and continued. “And you’ll be home by eight o’clock every night for the next week, and then follow my curfew until you leave. Understood?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She’d have agreed to anything until she could get out from under his thumb.
Now, here she was with two Rolex watches in her hand. She’d stolen them from the Johnson’s house. Paula and David Johnson had a drawer filled with Rolex watches — his and hers watches. They wouldn’t notice they were missing. Or so she thought. She knew that if she sold them at the pawn shop, she’d have enough money to pay her car payment. She’d never done anything like this though, and was a nervous wreck.
Avery knew
that twenty miles or so outside of Brentwood, she’d be able to find a pawn shop. They were everywhere in that neighborhood and if she wasn’t sure, all she had to do was ask. She parked her car along the crumbling curb in front of the pawn shop, and walked in.
It was a quiet night, and she seemed to be the only customer in the shop. The guy behind the counter greeted her, “Hey, good evening. Can I help you?”
“Uhm. Well, I have these Rolex watches and I need to sell them.” She pulled them out of the pocket of her leather coat, putting them on the counter.
“Wow. These are beautiful. Where’d you get your hands on these?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re kinda young to have one Rolex, let alone two.”
Shit. What are you going to do now, Avery?
“They were a gift from my father. He gave them to me for high school and college graduation.” The lie rolled right off her lips. It concerned her at times like these how easily lies came to mind. She tried to not look nervously at the man.
“Well, let me go to the backroom and check out the value for these. I’ll come right back with a price for ya. Look around and enjoy yourself. I’ll be about ten to fifteen minutes.” He winked at her, walking away with the watches.
Avery meandered around the store, looking at swords, baseball cards, comic books, and dolls. The shop had an amazing record collection. She was totally engrossed in looking at the records from the seventies and eighties when she heard the bell above the door jingle. She glanced over her shoulder to see a police officer walk in. Her heart leapt in her chest.
Oh God, is he here for me?
Avery contemplated simply leaving, but if the cop wasn’t there for her, that would make her look guilty. And she needed the money for her car payment, she had to wait. Unsure of what to do, she focused on the stack of albums in front of her, trying to look casual.
Finding Submission (Service & Submission Book 1) Page 1
