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Review of Down For The Countess, A Femdom Book

More information about
Down For The Countess, A Femdom Book

The Countess, Natasha Vronsky, is beautiful, sexy, yet extremely cruel to her slaves both physically and psychologically.  Ivey lusts her, yet what he receives are bruises, endless teases and denials.  In Siberia, Countess Vronsky abuses Ivey with whips and kicks him on the face with her boots.  She intentionally lets him escape yet catches him again, trapping him in her cruel game. 

Below is my favorite part in this femdom book:

“Get down on all fours and crawl to me!” the Countess demanded.
I blindly obeyed her. “How—”
“You’re so gullible. I mentioned the daily visits from the dairy. You took the bait, hook, line, and sinker.” She pointed her booted foot at me elegantly.
But I was thoroughly hacked at her. I got the point: She was too clever by half, and I led the balloting for dodo of the year. “So you can stand on one foot. What do you want me to do, applaud?”
With blinding speed, she kicked me so hard she knocked out the two teeth I mentioned earlier and gashed my face from my upper lip to my nose. “Any more snappy repartee?”
I managed to mutter, “I’m sorry.” Blood and teeth spattered from my mouth.

Then, the Countess, with the Doctor, Dr. Khachaturian, drove him back, to treat him.

“Be a man,” the Countess taunted.
During the second stitch, tears formed in my eyes and the pain was so intense I thought I might pass out. But I remained silent.
The pain held my complete attention until Dr. Khachaturian paused at the end of the second
suture. Taking a psychological breath, I realized Countess Vronsky was writhing in erotic delight against my captive body. “Suffer for me!” she hissed.
My agony was turning her on!
I didn’t have any choice in her sadistic pleasure—the stitches hurt like hell—so I tried to fight through the torture and pretend she wasn’t there. But when I closed my eyes, I could not escape the vision of cruelty shaping Countess Vronsky’s eyes, her mouth, her cheeks, and her jaws into majestic glory, radiant with the rush of twisting my misery into her ecstasy. The more she abused me— booting a gash in my face and supervising the infliction of excruciating pain to treat the wound—the more deeply her decadent delights gratified her.
Not only was I powerless to stop her, but also I submerged my will into hers. She made me
some animated thing that she could manipulate to bring herself to orgasm. In my helpless agony, I exulted in letting her use me. Virtually penetrating her vagina was better than never entering the Countess at all.
Nevertheless, I really, truly, dearly wanted to fuck her.
After Dr. Khachaturian completed the third and final suture, she snapped her latex gloves off
quickly. Her face was flushed and she was breathing heavily. I noticed a damp spot in her crotch.
Damn! She was getting turned on by my suffering, too!
Without a word, the two women turned me over on my belly and strapped me to the operating
table. They started undressing as if they were racing. Dr. Khachaturian finished first and helped the Countess out of her skintight latex, treating me to a glimpse of her startling hips—wide in proportion to her waist, but still narrow in actual inches. I marveled at the optical illusion of her hips, a phenomenon that never failed to churn my desires. And her bush looked so neat, almost virginal, that I wondered if she shaved it occasionally or trimmed it frequently.
I couldn’t mull the point long. The back of Dr. Khachaturian’s crew-cut head blocked my view
while her florid face pressed into the Countess’s pussy. Countess Vronsky maintained that contact by reclining slowly. Once seated, the Countess took her worshiper’s head in her slender fingers and pressed that loving face deeper into her hungry nexus.
My eyes darted to Countess Vronsky’s face. She glared back at me. Her lips parted slightly in a wicked smile as if perpetrating a crime with total immunity, flaunting her brazen behavior, and mocking her observer for his impotence in opposing her. But above all else, she cut me with the smirk of exclusion, raised eyebrows and pursed lips making it clear I was on the outside looking in, and she’d never let me in again. I could watch the magical elixir of ecstasy she brewed and dispensed, but I could never taste it.
At least for that moment, she burned her message of denial into my soul.
I can’t describe the colossal sense of loss that came over me. I desperately searched my mind
for new ways I could let Countess Vronsky destroy me—any imaginable means for me to go Down for the Countess (except the most pleasurable way, of course, because she sternly forbade me even that self-effacing ultimate kiss). If she subjected me to the most perverse, depraved exploitation to get her funky thrills, I would comply joyfully just to remain appended with her. She had corrupted my mind so thoroughly I wanted to be hers at all cost

The author combines elements of the Countess' physical cruelty, her tease and denial, lesbian love with the doctor, and their sadist delights in seeing Ivey suffer.  The result is, for the submissive reader, to place him in the position of Ivey, and enjoy the erotic scene of being so close to a beautiful and sexy woman, yet abused by her, and teased and denied in seeing her making love with another woman, while suffering for her, under her, without the slightest pleasure chance of being equal to her, yet able to watch her pleasuring herself through the stimulation of a suffered male.

King Key is an exceptional writer.  It is worth buying his other novels.  Please see http://www.pinkflamingo.com/brands/King-Key.html for more information.


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