Disciplined

What is a Strebor Quickiez? Years ago, I decided that I wanted to create a series of short, erotic books that would be designed to be read in the span of one day. Thus, the Strebor Quickiez collection was born. Whether a reader takes in the excitement on the way to and from work on public transportation, or during their lunch break and before bedtime, they can get a “quick fix” in the form of a stimulating read.

Designed to be published in collections of three to six titles per season, Strebor Quickiez will be enticing to those who steer away from larger novels and those who do not have the time to commit to spend a longer span of time to take in a good read. The first set includes
The Raw Essentials of Human Sexuality, One Taste
and
Head Bangers: An APF Sexcapade
; the follow-up to my wilder successful novel
The Sisters of APF: The Indoctrination of Soror Ride Dick
. Rounding out the collection is a trilogy featuring three women who receive separate invitations to make their respective sexual fantasies come true:
Obsessed, Auctioned
and
Disciplined
.

It is my hope and desire that booksellers embrace Strebor Quickiez and promote them to their consumer base. I am convinced that these books can do a heavy volume in sales and, as always, I appreciate the support shown to all of my efforts throughout the eight years.

Blessings,

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Last summer I had the privilege of participating in the Soul Expressions Wal-Mart Tour. I made so many new friends. I’d like to thank Angela Benson, L. Divine, Marilyn Griffith, Geneva Holliday aka Bernice McFadden, Brenda Jackson, Beverly Jenkins and Earl Sewell for their friendship and kindness.

While on tour, Victoria Christopher Murray became my new BFF. She and Kimberla Lawson Roby generously shared their knowledge and experiences in the book industry. When these two veterans spoke, a few of us gathered around hanging on to their every word. Like sponges, we sucked up as much information as we could possibly retain. Thanks ladies for sharing your wisdom.

I had a ball with the BAD GURLS on tour: Wahida Clark, Seven, and Vickie Stringer. While touring Indiana and Illinois, I was experiencing a personal crisis, but bonding with these ladies helped me get though a rough time. I hadn’t laughed with such gusto in quite a while. My three cohorts had nicknames: Mob Boss, Voodoo Queen, and Ms. Glitz and Glamour. By the way, Ms. G&G took off a Juicy necklace and bracelet and gave them to me (with a smile) after I openly admired the gorgeous trinkets.
Thanks, Vickie. That was really generous. I wear your gifts with fond memories.

A heartfelt thank-you goes out to Pamela Nelson of Levy Entertainment. Watching you and your team in action was an education and I couldn’t help getting involved. Pam, you are elegant, competent, professional, and very smart! I’m honored to know you.

Karen Dempsey Hammond, Aletha Dempsey, Shari Reason, and words can’t express how each of you has impacted my life. Thank you all for the love and the kinship.

Thank you, Charmaine Parker for six years of cherished friendship. I look forward to many, many more.

And finally, many thanks to my two brilliant Erotic Odyssey co-authors: Kimberly Kaye Terry and Delilah Devlin. OMG! WE DID IT! I’m so proud of us! Sending big puffy hearts to both of you!

I
nside the exclusive Fifth Avenue boutique, the air held the rich smell of leather mixed with the sweet aroma of fresh flowers. Tinkling background music accompanied blissful sighs, soft utterances, and sudden gasps. The staff, accustomed to hearing excited female murmuring, went about their tasks, acting professional and indifferent to their moans of delight.

Featuring designs from Paris, Milan, New York, and Los Angeles, this upscale shoe salon was a haven for the hopelessly addicted. Stilettos, strappy sandals, peep-toe pumps, and boots—all so decadently beautiful; they looked more like fine art than footwear—with prices ranging from six hundred to four thousand dollars.

Among the masses of spectacular shoes on prominent display, an attractive and solicitous staff served hors d’oeuvres and exotic iced teas. From the ornate light fixtures down to the plush carpeting, everything inside the boutique was pure seduction.

Chauffeur-driven limousines waited outside as well-heeled patrons indulged their shoe obsessions with wild abandon.

A perfectly coiffed, ultra-thin woman who looked stylish and elegant in a slim skirt and skinny jacket ensemble took on a lustful look when a pair of flirtatious red heels caught her eyes. “Ah,”
she murmured and clapped her manicured hands with childlike impatience. “Bring them to me. Hurry! Oh, I must have them.” Beautiful and rich, the blonde ice queen was not accustomed to waiting.

In another area of the boutique, an odd couple browsed. Attempting to hold on to her fast-fleeing beauty with Botox injections and other touted fountains of youth, a middle-aged socialite, her arm linked with her gay companion’s, picked up a black pump and admired it lovingly.

“It’s sexy enough to fuck,” her companion murmured with a naughty giggle.

“Yes. It’s so divine,” she replied, gazing breathless as she licked her collagen-filled lips.

With her brow furrowed and a cellphone tucked between her right shoulder and ear, a harried personal shopper listened to a hard-to-please client rant. Absently brushing her fingers against an ostrich-skin stiletto, she smiled dreamily and gave a visible shudder. The shoes were foot candy. Each pair screamed sex, and only the privileged elite could afford this erotic shopping experience.

A buzzer sounded. On high alert to keep out tourists and pesky “I-just-wanna-browse” pedestrians, the pretentious staff turned up their noses and stared at the hidden monitor. Recognizing the fabulously wealthy Yoyin Ayikade, the manager hurried to the front door to greet her.

Flanked by two strikingly handsome men, Yoyin entered the shop with an air of proprietorship and ignored the manager who greeted her. With her full lips pursed, her emerald eyes swept over the boutique. She strode along purposefully, waving away refreshments and refusing to engage in unnecessary interactions.

Yoyin, a proud shoe fetishist, was there for one purpose alone—to indulge her cravings.

Tall and willowy, Yoyin possessed majestic and unusual beauty. Her copper-hued complexion, smooth high forehead, protruding full lips, and prominent wide nose were almost sculptural African characteristics. However, green eyes and straight, burnished honey-colored hair that hung to the middle of her back was a stark contrast to her skin tone and facial appearance.

She could have adorned herself with a set of matching men, but her attendants—Niklas and Sebastian—in drastic contrasts of white and black—complemented her dual heritage. Unbearably handsome with classic Nordic features, Niklas had pale skin, blue eyes, and white blond hair that cascaded past his shoulders. Sebastian was black as night, and his onyx eyes held a penetrating intensity. His perfectly shaped head was smooth and clean shaven.

Yoyin spotted an alluring pair of Christian Louboutins, and with her two men on each side, she moved swiftly toward the shoes. With fluid movements, her outstretched hand seized the crystal S-shaped sandal, holding it delicately as if it she had captured a fluttering butterfly. Lashes lowered and inhaling deeply, she fondled the soft inner calfskin. She gave a sharp intake of breath as she slid her palm up and down the signature red sole. Exhaling, she smiled and sensually trailed a finger down the back of the shoe’s three-inch heel. This foreplay aroused her to great heights, readying her to penetrate the sexy sandal with her long, shapely foot.

A salesperson approached, her eyes sparkling with approval. “Hi, I’m Rebecca. Those shoes are exquisite—Would you like to try…”

Yoyin flipped her hair haughtily and cast a telling glance at Sebastian. In an instant, Sebastian moved in front of Yoyin. Tall and magnificently muscular, he became an impenetrable human barricade, obstructing the intrusive salesgirl from viewing or engaging Yoyin in further dialogue.

With his long limbs sleek with fine musculature, the lithe and powerful Niklas stepped forward. Niklas held Rebecca with an icy blue stare. “If you have any question, you must address Sebastian or me. Am I clear?” he spoke crisply. A hint of a Swedish accent added to his attractiveness.

The frazzled young woman nodded, gazing at him, mesmerized by his immense beauty—masculine and feminine at the same time.

Sebastian embraced Yoyin and led her over to a suede settee to recline and recover.

Rebecca swallowed visibly. “What did I do? Did I say something wrong?” she asked the blond hunk. “I complimented the shoes, but she walked away as if I’d insulted her before I could even find out her size.”

“Size nine,” Niklas said brusquely. With a shake of his hand, he dismissed the sales clerk.

Rebecca, her lashes blinking over her large brown eyes, nodded and scurried away.

Sebastian propped a pillow behind Yoyin’s head.

Yoyin leaned forward, causing the pillow to shift out of place. “What would prompt that vile shop girl to attempt to engage me in such imbecilic chatter?” She touched her forehead with the back of her hand, and her head fell back in despair.

Sebastian repositioned the pillow to cushion the back of her head, his expression sympathetic as he ran his thick black fingers through her honey-silken hair.

“I feel violated and nauseous!” Yoyin’s voice was shrill with complaint.

“It won’t happen again,” Sebastian assured her as he stroked her hair.

Soon, Niklas joined them. His face filled with compassion as he knelt before Yoyin and tenderly grasped her hand. “I’ve spoken with the manager,” he reported. “You won’t be bothered again.”

Yoyin nodded, maintaining a martyred expression.

The fascinating presence of Yoyin and her attendants changed the atmosphere within the boutique. The caste-conscious patrons exchanged curious glances, silently asking,
Who is that exotic creature? How’d she capture two perfect male specimens? Is she listed in New York’s social registry?

The store manager approached the settee, holding an impressive-looking shoe box, which he handed to Niklas and then promptly left without a word. Niklas set the box on the rich carpet. Yoyin stuck out the pointy toes of her black Valentino pumps, nearly touching his face.

Gently, Niklas removed her shoes and took in the immense beauty of her feet. Long with high arches, her feet were like sculpted art. Golden nail polish and diamond toe rings, enhanced their beauty, heightened her sex appeal.

Enraptured, Niklas grasped a slender foot and deeply inhaled while Sebastian caressed her neck and massaged her shoulders with his strong ebony hands.

Patrons and staff, a captive audience, covered their mouths in shock and gawked at the shameless trio, yet they were mesmerized.

The shoppers’ lustful interest in shoes began to wane, and all eyes were drawn to the ultra-masculine African and the beautiful Swede whose face was as pretty as a girl’s. The two men doted
on the oddly beautiful black girl. Their public display of intimacy made unwitting voyeurs of everyone in viewing range. Witnessing such unbridled devotion, caused ripples of envy to course throughout the room. The attendants’ sensitivity and outward show of devotion to Yoyin was unlike anything ever seen.

Yoyin murmured softly. Sebastian bent at the waist, draped an arm around her, allowing her to whisper in his ear. His perfectly shaped, gleaming head nodded in understanding. Squaring his broad shoulders, Sebastian strode across the large room, rushing past the mesmerized affluent. His movement, so swift and powerful, stirred a breeze that fluttered skirts and tousled hair, leaving behind a hint of an expensive male fragrance. He spotted Rebecca and beckoned her.

“Yes, how can I help you?” the flustered young thing asked, her eyes flitting from the devastatingly handsome black man who towered over her to the gorgeous Swede on his knees, paying ardent homage to the black woman’s feet.

Sebastian stroked his chin and briefly appraised the multitudes of exquisite shoes. Then, he began pointing, making spontaneous selections for Yoyin’s enjoyment: the blue satin thong sandals, a pair of black chiffon peep-toe pumps, the leopard-print leather slingbacks, the green crocodile stilettos, the peep-toe pumps in a pale-pink gathered crepe, brown suede boots, and the black patent-leather wedge heels.

Rebecca jotted each selection on a small pad.

“Wrap them. I’ll handle the payment,” Sebastian stated, aware that his sensual baritone sent shockwaves straight to Rebecca’s groin.

“What about the crystal sandals? Does she want to purchase them?” Mildly disabled from the throbbing sensation occurring
within her feminine core, Rebecca’s voice emerged in a shaky whisper.

“Most definitely.”

Before dashing to the stockroom, Rebecca’s eyes lingered on Sebastian’s wonderfully broad chest. She took note of his rippled muscles and huge biceps, which were quite apparent, despite a loose-fitting shirt.

She cut an eye at the debauchery taking place on the settee before reluctantly turning and briskly walking away.

Unconcerned about the audience, Niklas kissed the sole of Yoyin’s foot. His lips moved to the top of her feet, brushed against the skin, and kissed each brightly polished toenail.

Sebastian rejoined Yoyin and Niklas and lowered himself to the floor. Bowing his head in reverence, he cradled Yoyin’s delicate foot and gazed upon it, his eyes filled with devotion. As Niklas lavished her right foot with unrestrained desire, Sebastian catered to the left, massaging away any lingering tension.

With pronounced sexual interest, the two overwhelmingly good-looking, hard-muscled attendants began to cover her bejeweled feet with fervent kisses. Tongues glided over her soft skin and slid between her toes. Kissing, licking, stroking, Sebastian and Niklas worshipped her feet.

Preoccupied with her sparkly new possessions, Yoyin didn’t give her adoring attendants a glance. She murmured contentedly as she caressed, fondled, cuddled, and nuzzled her pretty glittery shoes. She closed her eyes, enraptured as she imagined the lovemaking session between the glamorous shoes and her sexy feet.

A pointy-toed shoe disappeared beneath a woman’s dress. The red sole of a Christian Louboutin was pressed against the boutique manager’s crotch. With her arm still linked around her gay
companion, the older, collagen-helped woman tightened her grip on the crystal goblet, wrapped her artificially plump lips around the glass, and guzzled down her iced tea trying to douse the building heat between her thighs. Surrendering to passion, she dropped her companion’s arm and handed him the crystal goblet before she straddled and humped a tall and firm riding boot.

Pretentious staff and haughty patrons, all writhed, moaned, and undulated, without inhibitions. The low, heated moans and sighs of pleasure in concert with background music escalated to higher pitches, the sounds climbing to a screaming crescendo.

This impromptu orgy was orchestrated by Yoyin Ayikade to give a boost to what had started out being a terribly boring day.