BDSM Erotica
Date to be Published: August 29, 2025
Publisher: Changeling Press
club, and has more money than he can spend in a lifetime. He gets everything
he wants, and now he wants his paralegal, Aaron Marshall. Mixing work and
pleasure is a big no-no, but their mutual attraction is off the charts. The
one thing Maxwell isn’t looking for is love, but sometimes fate has a
mind of its own.
“I found this to be an interesting and sexy short read… I adored Aaron right
from the get-go and found him delightful and really easy to relate to. The
chemistry between the two men is delicious, the kink is hot and well written
and for a fun and quick read this story certainly fits the bill to my mind.”
— Fern, Long and Short Reviews
Fucking traffic. Even at this hour of the day, the streets were as jammed as
my calendar. Doesn’t matter what I drive. My Mercedes-Maybach
won’t get me to the office any faster than a Prius, but my ride got a
lot of looks. It commanded the eye as well as the road. I imagined the other
drivers were wondering what VIP was enjoying all this luxury. The thought
ignited me. Being the center of attention was a turn-on. It was better than
sex.
At last, my building came into view. It was an impressive sight. The Barnes
Building was a soaring glass tower, twenty stories high, and one of the most
prestigious addresses in the city. I helped design it myself. I demanded a
seat at the table with the architects and builders, and my input resulted in a
stunning building that met my needs. If you want something done right, do it
yourself. ‘Nuff said.
I turned into the parking garage and pulled into my reserved spot, savoring
the rewards of success. My car, my building, designer duds, a Rolex, they were
all symbols of my wealth and status. None of it was due to luck. I worked damn
hard to get where I was, long hours, high-profile court cases, good
investments… I was on top of the world. Now I was ready to enjoy
myself. For years work had overshadowed everything else in my life. I had made
a name for myself and accumulated stuff, but I had neglected the hedonistic
pleasures that shaped my life. It was time to focus on the thing that lit me
up. BDSM. Erotic play made me feel complete. It energized me. I just needed
the right partner. Lately, I had wondered whether the man I wanted even
existed. It was a tall order to fill.
I knew who I was and what I wanted — single, gay Dom looking for a playmate,
not a relationship. Nothing serious or exclusive. I wanted a man who was
submissive because he loved the way it made him feel, but finding a compatible
play partner wasn’t easy. In the past I’d had partners who played
at being submissive so they could gain access to me. They were only interested
in my prestige and money. I liked a man who was willing to work hard and make
it on his own. Someone who was constantly learning and wanted to challenge his
limits.
Even with my connections, it was difficult to meet men because my kink was a
well-hidden secret. Submissives who were looking for a Dom wouldn’t know
how to find me. It had been a long time since my Dominant side got any
attention, and it had been frustrating as hell.
Until the day Aaron Marshall showed up. We had instant chemistry. Chemistry
counted for a lot, but it wasn’t everything. There had to be more to it
than attraction. The big question was, could we build something on that
chemistry? This was such an improbable match, I couldn’t believe it was
more than a fluke. But what if it wasn’t? I intended to find out because
I was used to getting what I wanted, and I wanted this man.
I took the private elevator to the top floor. My suite was bright and modern,
a stark contrast to my public office one floor down. There it was all cherry
wood and leather, the warm traditional look I presented to the public. But the
private penthouse was my home when I was working on an important case so it
was all me, a personal office, sitting room, kitchen, bedroom, and a large
bath, even a walk-in closet stocked with some of my favorite paddles and
floggers.
I listened to my voice mail and found a message from Brett Holiday, my best
friend. No need to answer it. I’d be seeing him tonight. I went into the
bathroom to check my appearance before taking the back stairs to my office.
Before settling in, I walked out to the front office to greet Aaron, who was
now my newest paralegal. My current office manager was teaching him the ropes,
a task I planned on taking over shortly. Pun intended.
Aaron always clocked in ahead of everyone, even me. He wanted to make a good
impression, and he had. The man was a quick study and very professional, but
he had other assets that sparked my interest.
I never forgot our first meeting. I liked his looks immediately — dark blond
hair, hazel eyes, slim build, but his stance was what caught my attention.
Aaron stood in front of my desk, his back ramrod straight, arms at his sides,
head up, eyes down. His deference was flattering to the point of overkill. I
saw it as a tendency to yield to the will of another. He was hard-wired to be
a submissive.
We made eye contact and it was hot as hell. I pictured us having wild sex and
I sensed he felt the same. The undeniable connection between us was like an
out-of-body experience. That mysterious attraction couldn’t be forced.
It was what I longed for, but seldom found. Calm down, I told myself. Do not
hire this man because you want to fuck him.
“Have a seat, Mr. Marshall.”
“Thank you.”
I decided to test the water. “Thank you, Sir.”
Aaron’s eyes went wide but he responded immediately. “Yes, Sir.
Thank you, Sir.”
His reaction was beautiful to behold. Being told what to do excited him. I
could tell he wanted me to take control, to dominate him. Anticipation
shivered along my spine. I knew an untrained submissive when I saw one. Aaron
was struggling to recover his self-command, but his desire and arousal shone
like a beacon in a storm. I was intrigued.
About the Author
nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.
things never change.
Author Links
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
