| |
––––––––
Catherine Tramell has penned over six best-selling erotica series, including The Game of Doms, Her Broken Masters, and Erotic Femme Secrets.
Tramell’s background in journalism gives her the tools to transform her most private, secret thoughts and hottest fantasies into thrilling, sexy, dark, and romantic tales with unexpected twists and turns, taking readers on a steamy, suspenseful, and satisfying journey.
She specializes in spinning mystery, suspense, Mafia, BDSM, erotica, and psychologically thrilling stories. Check out Tramell’s spicy and slick series, Tempted, currently burning up the Amazon best-seller list.
In her free time, Tramell loves keeping up with the latest fashion trends, supporting LGBTQ causes, and of course, reading sizzling stories by her favorite authors.
Tramell resides in Charleston, South Carolina, with her husband, two children, and two dogs.
Receive a notification every time Tramell publishes a new book by subscribing to her email link.
Follow Catherine Tramell on Facebook, Instagram, BookBub, and Goodreads
Readers had this to say about Tramell’s books:
“I totally loved it. It’s dark and erotic. Twisted story that leaves you speechless (in a good way). Recommend!” – Etretiacova from BookBub
“She.Did.It.Again!!!! I am in love! Every time, I’m so engrossed in the story that I yell, “No!” when I’ve realized it’s over (for now)! Catherine Tramell continues to be one of my favorite authors. Must read! Love love love. Cannot wait for the next book!” -Shantelle from BookBub
“Another wonderful story by this author that captured my attention from the very beginning with the good character and plot development! I totally enjoyed this story throughout the entire book!” – Pat Wally from BookBub
––––––––
“What deep secrets can one have? Like a spider that weaves its web to ensnare its prey, Catherine created a story that drew me in and captured my emotions as I was introduced to the main characters and their plight. The descriptions were well enough that one could picture this as narration from someone experienced. With so many books to read and so little time, I try desperately to avoid book series. I fell for this story hook, line, and sinker and as such will have or rather look forward to reading the entire series.” – Michael (the Wolff) from Goodreads
Their Web of Lies
Their Web of Lies is the second book of Cath Tramell’s Her Broken Masters, a romance series about a complicated romance between three broken souls bound by nightmares and secrets. Will it bring them all to happiness or doom them?
In this second book, Mr. and Mrs. Smith are away from each other and playing hard with their secrets while covering them up with lies. Will there be spilled secrets this time?
PREVIEW THEIR WEB OF LIES
CHAPTER 1
Tatiana’s assistant, Morgana, leads me to the back of an exclusive restaurant in Las Vegas. A VIP elevator appears at the end of the hallway. The door opens, and Tatiana steps out with a welcoming smile.
“Kelly, it’s been awhile,” she greets before giving me cheek kisses. “I’ve arranged a show for you. The girl will be to your liking.”
The elevator door opens again, and I step inside with Tatiana. I stare at my reflection in the glass wall of the elevator. I’ve hidden my blonde hair under a black wig and covered my blue eyes with brown contact lenses. Rich and famous people compose the private club. Some of them might know my husband, Elijah Smith, a pioneer in the cargo industry. I don’t want him to know my secret.
For Elijah, I will always be the innocent and lovely Kelly, the wife he married fourteen years ago. He doesn't need to know that I'm a dominatrix and love punishing my slaves. So, in this exclusive club, I am known as Eponine. No one knows me as Kelly Smith, a billionaire’s wife.
“I’m looking for a slave like Ronda, Tatiana.”
"This girl is willing to go anywhere," Tatiana tells me as the door opens. She leads me to a room with a secret viewing window. Tatiana pushes a button. The lights on the other side of the window open. "She's the real deal and has nothing to lose. With the right amount, you can get her to sign the contract.”
I sit to watch the show prepared for me. A newlywed couple enters the room. A group of men walks after them and takes them away from each other. The goons push the husband on a chair. The men take the woman to a slave bed. I freeze in my seat as every muscle of my body trembles.
“What the hell is this, Tatiana?”
“Last year, I visited a private club in New Orleans. They have this show. They call it the Prima Nocti,” I clutch the handles of the chair while Tatiana explains. I look through the viewing window and watch as three men abuse the woman. It’s only a show, but it tells the story of the origin of the Prima Nocti practice in the New Orleans club.
It tells my story!
I rise from the chair and rush out of the room. Tatiana follows me and panics when I start to vomit in the hallway. How the hell did the author of the show know about our story? Nicholas Aracelli! Fourteen years have passed, and that man still haunts us.
“Kelly, what’s going on?” Tatiana appears behind me. I answer her with a slap.
"Do you think that it's enjoyable?" I snap. "Who will enjoy a show with men raping a bride on their first night?"
Tatiana knows that my depression a few years ago was because of my trauma from being raped. She doesn't know that it happened on the night of my wedding.
I can’t forget that night. I will never forget that night.
Fourteen years ago, what I thought to be my fairytale romance turned into a nightmare. Nicholas Aracelli, son of a rich man in New Orleans, was obsessed with me, but I was madly in love with Elijah Smith, my husband. He threatened to ruin our lives if I didn’t choose him. Elijah and I ignored his warning.
On the night of our wedding, Nicholas and his goons ambushed us in the cabin we rented for our honeymoon. He made my husband watch as he raped me, telling Elijah that he'd regret choosing me as his wife. Nicholas didn't stop there. After taking his fill, he gave me to his goons as a prize. My wedding night, my honeymoon. It all became nightmares that ruined me.
“I’m sorry. It was insensitive of me.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I smile softly at Tatiana.
A smile forms on my lips when I notice how hot she looks in her red and black corset. She's a few years older than me, but no one notices. Tatiana takes care of herself well. Her boobs still hold up like those of women in their twenties. Momma's breasts are always the best.
I reach for her healthy tits and slide my lips between hers. Tatiana returns my kiss instinctively. I tease her tongue with mine. She quickly pushes her mouth inside and explores my mouth. I play with her breasts; she massages my butt cheeks.
“How ‘bout we make tonight a teacher’s night?” Tatiana offers.
I lick her cleavage before answering, “I’d love that.”
#
I tie one of Tatiana’s ankles in one of the bases of the saltire cross. Her rose-scented oil lathered into her skin intoxicates me, making me smell her legs from the calf to her thigh. Tatiana shakes as my nose moves closer to her slit. Her skin is still young and supple despite her age. I pull the pearl string of her thong underwear out of the crack of her butt and spread her cheeks. She moans from the sensation of her anal orifice being stretched.
“Sorry, Master,” Tatiana cries when I spank her butt.
I stand up and grab her tits hard, intending to make her cry from the pain.
Tatiana is my teacher and my first slave. I met her in group therapy for depression. She was named a success story for overcoming depression. But it wasn't because of the support group therapy. Tatiana embraced her depression and used it to make her stronger.
The source of her depression is her dumbass ex-husband. Tatiana is a battered wife. Her husband didn’t give her any choice during their marriage. She even lost a lot in their divorce, including the custody of her children. Her husband believed that she was crazy.
After learning about BDSM, Tatiana realized that she was a slave, just as how her husband treated her. However, in this lifestyle, being a slave is her choice. She surrenders because she wants to and not because of fear or by force. I still find it sick that she sees it that way, but Tatiana has found her happiness from it. So, I tried my luck with this fetish.
Since I knew that I could no longer bear a child, my depression worsened. Elijah stood beside me, but he also monopolized our relationship. Though he didn't abuse his power, I realized that I lacked control of my life.
Tatiana encouraged me to try being the dominant. She volunteered to be my teacher and slave. I fell in love with it. Being in control of someone's life in a small room is nothing much. But it offered me an escape from being the weak woman that I was.
I pull Tatiana’s hair to the back and kiss her torridly. When she returns my kisses, I pinch her perked nipples. She moans sexily, and everything in me pumps like a crazy horse. I kiss her again. This time, stronger and more dominating. My hands slide down to her crotch. I squeeze her inner thighs, and she moans, "Master."
Tatiana’s eyes twinkle when I take the clit vibrator and run it on her slit. Her mouth parts as she moans. I take the opportunity to stick my tongue inside and force her to suck it. She whimpers into my mouth when I stick my fingers in her pussy.
“More, Master,” Tatiana begs. I spank her butt cheeks. “Please, Master.”
I release one of her hands and instruct her to pleasure herself while I prepare the next toy. Tatiana smiles when I show her the nipple suckers. "You still remember your safe word?" I ask. But she doesn't need it. Tatiana's tolerance for pain is exceptional. She has never used it with me. No matter how clumsy I was as a student.
Tatiana's moans take a musical turn when I pleasure her pussy with my tongue. She looks down at me and says, "I want you, Kelly.”
I should punish her for calling my name, but I love how seductive her voice sounds. I rise and face her with a smile. Tatiana kisses me while I release her from the cuffs of the cross. I caress her cheeks and kiss her passionately. It’s not love but lust.
Other than being a dominant, Tatiana also opened my eyes to my true sexual preference. Yes. I’m in love with my husband and will always be. I still love having sex with him sometimes, but nothing makes me feel more fulfilled than having sex with a woman. I am bisexual. As much as I love that preference, I can't show it to the world. Elijah will be humiliated. He had endured horrible humiliations in the past. I can't disgrace him again for marrying a bisexual.
#
"Master," my body arches from ecstasy as he brings me to another climax.
Our session should have ended an hour ago. But after getting a call, Master suddenly got the urge to have sex with me again. But it felt different. I can feel an excitement in him and an intimacy stronger than what he showed me before.
I don't know if it was because we already had sex, but I have become more familiar with him. My body responded to him better. I also feel freer – with all my guards down. Little Fox. He calls me that, and I’m starting to like it.
He grunts and fills me with his cum. Unlike the first time, I don’t panic. The moment feels so right. If it will get me pregnant again, I won’t care. My Master. He has the same eyes as my son though he is not the father. I won’t mind having another son with beautiful gray eyes again. Allyson! My mind finds the thoughts repulsive, but my shameless thoughts fill me with a thrill.
I moan when Master sucks my nipple while pumping the tissues around it. Disgusting – not! I giggle as he breastfeeds on me. I thread my fingers on his dirty blond hair and allow him to have all the milk he wants while my pussy walls milk him with all the cum he can offer.
“Delicious,” he wipes his lips of the excess milk with his tongue. A short moan leaves my mouth when he kisses my nipple. He flashes a playful smile and tells me, “You better wash it well before putting it on the baby.”
I bite my lower lip to stop myself from giggling. My master walks away from the bed. He looks like a masked, sculpted Adonis.
“What is this?” I ask when he gave me a signed calling card for a shop.
"Go to that shop tomorrow and pick everything you want," he orders me. "I want you to wear the things you chose in our next meetings. You don't look beautiful in that slave outfit."
“But I don’t have the money. I can’t have my allowance until Friday,” I remind him.
"Just go there," my Master tells me. He looks up at the clock. "It's already past midnight. You should go home to your son."
I take the card and put it in my tiny purse. Master watches me wrap the sheets around my body. I stop picking up my stuff after hearing him chuckle. My heart thumps like a wild horse when he walks to me. Christian’s father!
His smile. It’s the same as my son’s father – my rapist!
I remember the smiles, the stares and how I shamelessly moaned under him. My face burns as the memory of that shameful night flashes in my head.
It was my wedding night. My ex-husband, Nicholas Aracelli, gave me a drink to calm me down. I was naïve, young, and a virgin. He said it would help me enjoy the night. Everything on that day was perfect. Nicholas bought me a beautiful wedding gown and threw an elegant wedding reception. It was a fairytale wedding for a poor, simple girl from Empire, Louisiana.
The wedding was a fairytale, but the wedding night was a nightmare. Nicholas brought me to a place where another man was waiting for me. He was tall, toned, and had a wicked but handsome smile. I can’t remember his face, but I remember his smile. The man looked like a vampire that could compel anyone to do whatever he wanted.
Somehow, he was. Nicholas begged him to stop whatever plans the man had. He refused and forced Nicholas to sit on the couch. Another man made sure that he could see us having sex while I was in my wedding gown.
The man began to make advances to me. I fought and struggled, but my body was strangely weak. I later found out that Nicholas drugged me to keep me from resisting. I don't remember exactly what happened, but I seemed to have enjoyed whatever the man did to me. Until now, I can see myself moaning like a lustful woman as he took me in every position that night – before leaving me ruined for my husband.
It can't be him. He can't be that man. That man is someone powerful enough to compel somebody like Nicholas Aracelli to give his wife to him.
“Is something wrong?” my master asks. He looks at the bed and sees the spilled juices of our union. “Don’t worry. I’m safe. I had a vasectomy two years ago. So, you can’t get pregnant.”
I don’t know why, but part of me sank. He can’t get any woman pregnant, naturally. How can he be my son’s father?
“And why are you still covering yourself?” Master pulls the sheet from me, leaving me naked in front of him. My body is full of red marks from all his kisses. I gasp when he traces my curves with his warm palms. He chuckles and teases, “You like everything I do, huh, Little Fox?”
“M-Master.”
Before I can pretend to deny, his mouth finds his way to one of my breasts again. I moan while he sucks my nipple harder. He opens my mouth and quickly puts the milk inside. He forces me to share the taste with him. “This is bad,” he whispers. “I want you again, Little Fox.”
Master carries me from the floor and slams me back to the bed. Before I can say anything, he gags me with another milky kiss. Master keeps his mouth on mine while guiding his cock back inside me. My pussy swells from the two sessions we had, but it is still excited to receive him.
“Master,” I moan when he releases my mouth.
He flashes the familiar smile again, and a strange feeling envelops me. It’s almost like that night. My rapist also took me many times on my wedding night, and like a wanton woman, I enjoyed every moment with him.
Nicholas used it to taunt me when I refused to give myself to him. He always reminded me that I acted like a wild slut for my rapist – whose name he refused to tell. When I insisted on denying him, he would rape me. His actions were more like a real rape than that of my rapist.
Enough! I'm with my Master now. And he's not any of them.
I place my hands on his shoulders and gently strum my fingers up to his neck. My curiosity about his face grows, prompting me to reach for his mask. Master quickly grabs my hands and pins them above my head.
“The mask stays on all the time,” Master warns. “Do it again, and I’ll punish you.”
“I’m sorry,” I stutter.
As if his anger takes over him, Master’s thrusts intensify. He plunges his cock deeper inside me, slamming his hard crotch against my swollen pussy lips. I cry softly from the pain, but my body treats it like a spice from his sweet kisses. The fire of orgasm slowly grows back above my crotch. I struggle to free my hands to hold him. Master keeps them over my head. His gray eyes gaze straight into my brown eyes as he pumps hard in me. He growls softly while my hips move harder against him.
“You do love everything I do,” he kisses me gently before returning to thrusting fast and hard, bent on bringing us back to climax.
“Master,” I call on him repeatedly until the fire inside me explodes again. I tense under him, with all my muscles shaking inside me. My heart is thumping hard – almost to the point of bursting from my chest.
It is the same as the night with my rapist. It's a night I shouldn't enjoy but should be ashamed of. Yet, a feeling of assurance grows in my heart. All will be fine. Just as how that rapist gave me my precious son, I will have many good moments with my Master, too.
#
End of Preview
Continue Reading HERE
