French Dominion

Annette Benefice

Description

Everybody's favorite French nanny Marie Elise Focault is back from the 'The Price of Advertising'. This time, our lovely dominatrix finds herself wrongly locked up in a minimal security prison. Determined to break free, she uses her wiles to first seduce and then control an impressionable young corrections officer by the name of Ramira Estevez. Yet, our lovely dominatrix could never be satisfied with the love of one lone woman, not when she could have scores of other girls worshiping at her feet. Is our French woman crafty enough to overtake an entire penal complex and subvert it to her will? Moreover, can she do it without causing a state wide panic. Enter the erotic world of the French dominatrix and find out! Warning: All characters in this story are eighteen years or older. This novel contains lurid descriptions of lesbian erotica, bondage, and spankings along with psychological and physical control. If these scenes make you uncomfortable, this book may not be for you.

Sujets

• Erotic literature

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 01 mars 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781622875429
• Langue: English

Extrait

FRENCH DOMINION
Annette Benefice


First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
FRENCH DOMINION
By Annette Benefice
French Dominion
Copyright ©2014 Annette Benefice

ISBN 978-1622-875-42-9 EBOOK

February 2014

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com



ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns ─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .
FRENCH DOMINION

“Was it good for you, little one? I need to know.”
Ramira Estevez smiled. Rolling over in bed, she snuggled up closer to her lover. Somehow, she never grew tired of staring at Marie’s exquisite face. Even with her tussled black hair, the French woman was a sight to behold. Tall for a lady from Europe, her curvy figure could literally make heads turn everywhere.
Not that Ramira was any ugly woman herself. With her dark olive skin, luscious build, and beautiful brown eyes, she was considered by many to be a real Latin beauty herself. Together, they made an awesome pair, she thought. She just wished they had more time for their scandalous love affair.
“Perhaps, we should get you ready?” Marie murmured. “No?”
The Latina girl sighed. She knew her mother was probably right. Despite all the trappings of their luxury hotel, San Alda was still a prison. Marie might be a care free inmate, but she had responsibilities. Being a night corrections guard, she would be expected back at the desk in another twenty minutes. Grudgingly now, she rolled off the bed and began searching for her uniform top. She was still buttoning up her shirt when Marie went into her bathroom and brought back a container full of warm water.
The Latina girl quickly lifted up her tan uniform top, and allowed her mother to sponge off her private area. Marie was always so careful to make sure she was clean. For Ramira though, this was just another added treat. She enjoyed the pampering especially the caresses of her mother’s moist loofah to her bottom.
Her mouth was still gaping open wide with pleasure when Marie used a towel to dry her off now, and put a diaper on her. Ramira had long ago accepted the plastic pull-up. She did not mind. It had become a mark of her mother’s dominance over her.
No, if Ramira was troubled at all this night, it was because she kept thinking that she was forgetting something. Reaching for her skirt, she could not help wondering if she lost an item, an item of importance. Using her hand, she began frantically patting the front of her uniform top.
“My shield,” she asked alarmingly. “Where is my shield?”
“Ah, do not worry.” Marie smiled at her.
Ramira was relieved to see her French mother reach into her dresser drawer, and pull out the gold badge.
“See,” Mari held up the shiny insignia. “I did not want it to get scratched on the floor. So, I had it placed in here for safe keeping.”
Ramira smiled gratefully. She was ready to accept back the precious item when Marie in explicatively raised it above her head. The girl looked at her French mother quizzically.
“If you are a big police officer,” she grinned. “This should be no problem to grab it, no?”
The short woman extended her hand up for her badge. Her Mother however used her six foot one height to keep it safely out of reach.
“Ah so close,” Marie teased, “So close.”
Why was she doing this? Ramira thought. They did not have time for such games. If she did not make it back to the desk in full uniform and soon, they could both be caught. The Latina girl tried using her tippy toes now to touch the badge in question. Still, Marie held the item way up high.
“Ah, you are almost there!”
Ramira knew she could not use force. Her mother would never allow such a vulgar move. Nor could she scream or protest since as it would invariably wake the rest of women inmates in the prison dormitory. Desperate now, she began hopping up and down on her legs to reach her badge.
“Oh, look at you,” Marie giggled. “You look so cute, almost like a little girl!”
Ramira did not feel cute, but she did indeed feel increasingly ridiculous. Jumping up and down, a feeling of smallness began welling up inside her. With every attempt to raise her arms, her diaper began to protrude out more. With every failed effort too, she felt less like a corrections officer and more like a helpless child struggling for a piece of candy. Frustrated after the sixth try, the Latina girl’s chin began to quiver. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. Her French mother must have caught her distraught look, because she suddenly stopped her cruel game.
“Oh, little one,” she was aghast. “I had no idea that I was causing you such terrible pain.”
Her French mother sat down on her bed, and called her over. As Ramira rushed into her warm lap, her French mother handed back her proud badge, and began to gently stroke her hair.
“There now,” Marie cuddled and kissed her, “all better?”
The Latina girl sniffed, and accepted her mother’s calm cradling. Squirming in her plastic diaper, she wondered how it all began. How did she ever get to be such a mommy’s girl?

*****

“I know right. It floored me the first time I saw everything too.”
Ramira could not help herself. Her jaw literally dropped whenever she gazed around the richness of the San Alda campus. The pictures on the ranch’s website did not begin to do this prison facility justice. Situated against a mountain hillside, the minimum security establishment gave the impression of being a majestic castle. There was even a pillared rotunda and circle stone driveway to welcome guests.
The inside was no different. With its raised ceilings, lavish furniture and plush carpet; the lobby looked like something out of a French Chateau. And the inmate rooms, she thought, the inmate rooms were incredible. Each girl was given a comfortable queen bed with a personal walk in bathroom. There was also a mounted fifty inch screen T.V. in each room along with a mini-refrigerator. Lastly, and more importantly there were virtually no locks on any of the dormitory doors anywhere. The young women were literally free to come and go as they pleased.
This was no prison, at least not in the normal sense. If the young women were done with their counseling sessions, and computer classes, they could indulge in any number of activities on the campus such as yoga, acupuncture, and zumba classes. For other diversions, there was a heated indoor swimming pool, two tennis courts, a spa and even an exercise room. The place had all the comforts of a luxury resort and more. If a young woman had to do time for a non-violent misdemeanor offense, this was certainly the way to do it.
“Hey girl, you still following me, ain’t you?”
Ramira stopped staring and kept up with her new supervising sergeant. Wanda James, her new boss was a little spitfire. Standing at five foot two, she was an attractive black woman who liked nothing more than to keep her uniform perfect and her prisoners on their toes.
More than just good looks though, Wanda had street cred in Ramira’s book. Having spent three years in the army, and then another three as a corrections officer at a federal prison, what she lacked in height she more than made up for with a drill instructor’s voice. The girls in the facility knew to give her a wide berth.
“Like I was saying,” Wanda continued on with her tour. “Don’t get so caught up in all this Hollywood glamour of this place. When you get right down to it, all the girls here ain’t anything but a bunch of rich spoiled brats. Most of them come from wealthy families from Bel Air, and Beverly Hills. Ain’t none of them ever worked a single day in their life. If it hadn’t been for their rich daddies and mommas, they most likely ended up in a regular minimal security prison somewhere.”
Ramira glanced at these so called spoiled brats walking the hallways. It was hard for any woman to objectively judge another woman’s looks, but for her most of them had the appearance of runway models. Almost every one of them was dead drop gorgeous. Then of course, she thought when your gene pool included a long list of famous actresses and models, it was hard not be beautiful. This was especially true when you had the services of some of the best dermatologists and plastic surgeons in the world.
“See that,” Wanda pointed at one of the women. “I want you to take a good look at those black skirts that they are wearing.”
Ramira already had. The stylish uniforms were unlike any she had seen in any prison rehab system. There were no bulky orange overalls here. No, the young women were permitted to wear black multi-pleated skirts with button down white collar shirts. Their blazers had a fashionable preppie look to them as well. She had no idea who thought this scheme up, but the tailored school clothes must have very reassuring to their parents on weekend visits. It was almost like they attending an exclusive academy.
Do you notice that?” She asked. “Each is wearing a different colored strip around the bottom hem of their skirts to represent their rehab status. Red means full privileges, green means reduced privileges, orange means no privileges, and white means probationary status. It is how we keep track of their rankings without a score card”
“Speaking of which,” Wanda halted.
“Ashley,” she called after one of the young women. “Ashley, yeah I’m talking to you girl! I noticed that skirt of yours is creeping up rather high on your thigh again. You mind taking it down before I get out my ruler girl, and have to put some nasty old deme