Saturday, September 19, 2015

Book Tour & Giveaway - The Ties That Bind by C.P. Mandara


Title: The Ties That Bind
Genre: Dark Erotica, BDSM, Suspense




Will Mark Matthews accept Redcliff’s terms for his daughter’s release, surrendering both body and mind to the enemy? Petal’s sanity depends upon the fact, for in the sixth and final book of Pony Tales she is to discover that the fate in store for her at Albrecht is not a pretty one.

Shipped off to Leyland Forbes in a steel cage, the pony-girl will have to endure all sorts of imaginative bondage and BDSM at his palatial manor, as her body is photographed intimately by several of the world’s top photographers. As the day progresses she will find herself taken out to dinner in chains, before being cleverly and expertly divested of her virginity.

Trouble awaits when she returns to the stables, however. One of the trainers has taken a monstrous dislike to her and intends to prove his superiority, both in the dungeon and beyond.

Escape is beginning to seem like an impossible dream…


Content warning:  M/f, F/f, M/M, kinky underwater bondage, dub-con, non-consensual sex.


PG EXCERPT
“She’s been screaming her head off for an hour, Michael. Can I knock her out, or at the least move the woman somewhere far, far away, preferably underground?”
There was a long sigh at the end of the telephone receiver and it was clear that the owner of the voice was in a testy mood.

“K, darling. It’s unlike you to be so squeamish. What’s up?”

The blonde on the other end of the receiver sighed again. Michael’s voice was not one of sympathy and it was clear that her sentry duty was far from over. “Your son is putting muddy footprints all over my brand new, silver travertine tiles. He’s already necked most of the alcohol in the house and has now taken my remote control prisoner.” She added a little growl for effect, to let him know she was not at all pleased by the turn of events.

There was a slight pause as her complaints were considered before all of them were rebuffed as she had expected.

“You have a cleaning lady who will be in first thing tomorrow to clear up the footprints and any other mess he might leave, paid for by me I might add, and I’m more than happy to get you a delivery of whatever tipple might take your fancy. Of course, you realise you can’t drink anything with her in the house and nor can you watch TV, so I fail to see your point.” The voice had taken on a bemused tone. “It’s the screaming that’s getting you down, hmm? And here I thought you enjoyed that sort of thing.”

The blonde heard a burst of uncharacteristic laughter erupt from her handset and nearly fell over from her position, leant casually against the granite kitchen countertop. As it was, several cookbooks fell to their demise and a jar of chrome utensils quickly followed suit.

“K, dear, are you OK? It’s nearly all over now. We’ll have him right where we want him in just a couple of days. The girls are in place, and there’s the added bonus of having both Isabelle and Jennifer as an incentive to get Mark to co-operate. I think the man has a conscience, but we’ll find out shortly, darling.”

“What are you planning to do with them?” Scuttling around on the floor, she banged shiny serving spoons, spatulas and ladles back into their container, loud enough to create pretty impressive backing for a drum and bass album.

“Something diabolically nasty, what else? I want to watch him squirm and I want him to know exactly what I’m capable of. When you take on someone of Matthews’ calibre, you make sure he understands you the first time, because there’s no way you’ll get hold of him a second time.”
The banging stopped abruptly and a smile flittered across K’s face, her bright red lips uplifting in sudden comprehension. “Oh goody, we get to play with them, too?”

Michael Redcliff cleared his throat and smiled to himself. “Yes, dear, that was the plan. Have you cheered up a bit now?”

“A little,” she admitted, her voice having taken on a soft, dreamy quality and her thoughts were suddenly whisked to far more pleasurable pastures.

“Good.”

“But what about the damn screaming,” she groaned, coming back to earth firmly with a bump.

“Do you have your cell phone handy?”

K finally managed to get herself upright and set the utensil jar safely back on the counter. She pulled the receiver away from her ear and looked at the phone as if it had sprouted purple fur and claws. Rolling her eyes, already wondering where this was leading, she put the handset back to her ear. “Of course I have a cell phone, but I’m on the home phone at the moment. You want me to call you from my cell?”

“No darling. I want you to record the delightful Isabelle’s screams. A little bit of sobbing and begging wouldn’t go amiss, either. Let’s stir Matthew’s up and get him a little jumpy. Make the recording around a couple of minutes in length and then send it to me. I’ll need to deliver it from an untraceable account. We don’t want to give the boy any ammunition he can use.”

“OK, give me ten minutes and I’ll get it to you. Out of curiosity, though, why aren’t you keeping her at yours?”

“Ahh, that’s because there’s always the chance that Matthew’s may be really stupid and have the authorities come barging in here. I’m the only link he has. He doesn’t know that you’re my sidekick. You won’t even be up for consideration. He gets very protective of his staff, I hear, and has gone to some great lengths to ‘save’ them in the past. It helps that he’s got a soft spot for Isabelle and a hard one for my daughter.”

“But Isabelle isn’t one of his girls, is she?”


“She is now.”


ADULT EXCERPT
“We need to work together, you and I,” said Mark, and his lips descended to nuzzle her neck, “because I suspect we want the same thing.”

“You want ten tonnes of sugar and a three litre vat of coffee?” She was rewarded with a sharp nip for her troubles. “Don’t go vampire on me,” she threatened, “I’ve already got you down as the big bad wolf.”

He laughed. “Because I can see you, smell you and eat you better than anyone else you’ve ever known?”

“No, it was a ‘whose afraid of the big bad wolf thing,’ but you’ve been replaced in that department. Anyway, tell me what we’re working together on.”


“I’m never especially comfortable around you,” she yelped as she received a backhander on her left butt-cheek, “but I’m not afraid of you, no.”

“Good.”

Her right cheek was subjected to the same treatment and it felt divine. He then pressed something cold and hard against the entrance to her pussy, and she instinctively moved upwards to avoid it.

“Relax. It’s just a set of Ben Wa balls. They’ll help improve your pelvic floor muscles because you’ll have to squeeze tightly to keep them inside of you. Lots of squeezing makes my fun in the bedroom infinitely more entertaining.” Another slap on her backside, but the first ball was already being worked inside her and it felt sublime. It was heavy, smooth and almost certainly made of some kind of metal. Her money would be on stainless steel.

“These are some of the heaviest ones I can find, mainly because I don’t like to make my games too easy for you. If you live under my roof, you’re going to have to work for everything and I mean everything, but that’s all part of the fun. If you can figure out a way to please me, I’ll make your life bearable.” He stroked the line of her throat and tongued the unbelievably sensitive spot just behind her earlobe. She shuddered.

“Does bearable include unlimited amounts of coffee and chocolate?” There was another petulant yelp as he increased the strength of his swats, but she didn’t wiggle out of the way.

“No, and never tell me stuff like that, because now I’ll ration both coffee and chocolate until you’re begging for the stuff. I like watching women beg. There’s something amazing about watching a woman beg, especially for sex.” He winked at her. “I’ll remember to cover you from head to toe in chocolate body paint frequently, in order to torment the hell out of you.” The second kegel ball was slotted into place, as deep inside her as his fingers would go. There was a pause as her body took a moment to spasm all over. Mark aroused her just by speaking, damnit, and all the rest of the stuff was just overkill in her opinion. Biting her tongue sharply, she managed to get a hold of herself.

“That might be OK, as long as I get a chance to lick the stuff off,” said Jenny thoughtfully.

“Oh no. I’ll be painting your chocolate rations somewhere far more interesting.” Mark pulled her away from the bed and stood directly in front of her. Jenny was trying hard not to laugh. She couldn’t help it. The image of Mark with his cock covered in chocolate was doing strange things to her libido.

“Now I’m curious. Would you like your chocolate rations orally or as a suppository? I’m sure the sugar would hit you quicker if we…”

“Nooo,” Jenny bit out, and the man had successfully wiped the smile off her face in an instant, which she guessed was his goal.

“Right, enough distractions. The name of the game is this… I have a pair of bolt cutters that will make moving and walking far less embarrassing for your restaurant visit. You keep those balls inside you for the next ten minutes, no matter what I do to you, and I’ll see what I can manage with regards to your restraints. You’ll still have the cuffs on, of course, but you’ll lose the chains – so more freedom for a little bit of effort. What do you say, Miss Redcliff?”

“Game on,” came the reply.

The pressure of the heavy metal balls within her had seemed fine at first. Mark made her crawl around the floor a bit, and introduced a flogger to the proceedings, but it was not particularly hard work to keep them securely inside her. She had to squeeze the muscles of her vagina tightly together, but the initial effort required to do so was sustainable, or so she’d thought.

Moving around proved difficult, not because of the chains, she’d almost become used to those, but when the balls vibrated and bounced together they sent shock waves of pleasure radiating through her body. The flogger drove her this way and that throughout his apartment, and each twist and turn was murder on her insides.

“I’ve waited a long time to fuck you, Jennifer Redcliff.” His voice echoed in her ears but she didn’t fully comprehend their meaning until a few moments later. “Whatever I want is usually delivered immediately to me, with no questions asked. I guess that’s one of the perks of being me. Having to wait over a week for something I really want is unheard of, and yet here I am still as excited by you as the first day I laid eyes on you. Scrap that, even more so. I want to pin you to the wall like a fucking Van Gogh, Miss Redcliff, and just like the Van Gogh, I wouldn’t mind if you graced my wall for several years or more. Does that scare you? Do you want to serve, Jenny? Do you want to serve me? Or are you, perhaps, just telling me the words I want to hear so you can run out on me at the first opportunity?”
To prove his point, Mark had scooped her up off the floor and slammed her backside against the bright white wall behind her. He obviously preferred the minimalist look, because not a single painting adorned it, which was probably a good thing when your head was being slammed against it. Not that she cared. Her body was buzzing with an intensity that had little to do with the vibrating balls inside her. Just one look from the annoying man in front of her and she was reduced to speaking gibberish. He had his flies undone and his cock nudging for entrance at her pussy, which might explain her inability to articulate words, but then again those smouldering brown eyes could produce naked flames if one weren’t careful. When he thrust himself inside her and smacked into the two balls, she nearly exploded on the spot.

There was no question that she was wet. Dripping wet. These days she was always soaked. But having two heavy, vibrating balls slammed into your cervix was an experience she was not going to forget in a hurry. Finally she got a grip on her tongue. “So,” she said breathlessly, feeling his mouth hovering above her nipple, “where are the Van Gogh’s?” Bathing in the hot air from his mouth, her nipple pleaded for more, and finally he teased it with his tongue. Small licks and flicks was all it was treated to, but it cried out for more, stretching and straining its little self until it could grow no more.

“I already told you, you are the Van Gogh, and if you don’t shut up, I might decide to hang you here permanently for my own personal use.”

His strokes were blunt but fierce. He worked the balls inside her as deep as they would go, cupping her reddened ass in his hands and tilting her towards him. Grinding against her clit, she was once again mute, so his threat had been a pointless one. Her head was in another place entirely and it was a happy place. Each thrust knocked the balls about inside her and they played a decadently wonderful tune.

“Madam, I am at your cervix for the entire evening,” Mark whispered, barely holding back a chuckle. Jenny didn’t care. She was almost at the point where she was hoping his earlier threat might come true. Being pinned against his wall for this kind of regular treatment wouldn’t be a hardship. Au contraire. It would be a fucking amazing. Before that thought had a chance to be examined, he pulled out of her.

Two heavy metal balls plummeted downwards and she did her best to slow their descent by clenching her PC muscles as hard as she could. Her face twisted as the effort of gripping them took hold.

“I’m not going to make this easy on you, Pet. You’re going to have to work to keep those balls inside of you. Grabbing her wrists, one at a time, he slammed them into the wall above her head. “Tell me what you want,” he growled.

But she wasn’t going to give in that easily. If he wanted to play nasty, then so could she, and the chocolate episode was still fresh in her mind. “I want,” she breathed in sexily and fluttered her eyelashes in great swoops that Cleopatra would have been proud of, “the largest cup of coffee that you can find.”

He grinned evilly, and she knew instantly that she’d made a mistake, but controlling the things that flowed out of her mouth had never been one of her strong points, and even less so in the heat of the moment. His cock slid between her legs and gently strokes the edges of her labia. Moving back and forth he teased her gently and she groaned in arousal. “There goes your ‘before-dinner-orgasm’ darling, and you’ll be lucky if I don’t take you out to dinner stark naked and wearing even more chains than you are already. Does that appeal?”

“No,” she mewled, swiftly curtailing anything else that might have threatened to spill out of her mouth. She had more important things to worry about. The heavy balls inside her were slipping. If she’d have behaved herself, she would barely have had to work for her bolt cutters, but now, without his help… things were getting difficult. Clamping together her tiring muscles, the lines of strain became evident upon her face.


“So let’s try that again. Tell me what you want.”



Christina Mandara was born in the UK, but has spent most of her life travelling the world. She speaks three languages and has been chiefly employed in the fields of finance and travel. Her favourite city is Sydney and her favourite holiday destination is the south of France.

She loves keeping fit and enjoys running, cycling and water sports. Think surfing or sailing. She's a big fan of BDSM in all of its glorious forms, and her favourite item in the toy closet (a box simply isn't big enough) is her riding crop.

In her spare time she's usually cuddled up with a good book, exploring the countryside, or baking in the kitchen. In fact, she loves her kitchen so much, she's one of the few woman who wouldn't mind being tied to it! Her first and foremost love is writing, however, and more often than not you'll find her on a laptop spinning tales of romance, erotica or dark, paranormal fantasies.  



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Christina is generously running a giveaway during The Ties That Bind book tour and giving away the following:
First Prize: $10 Amazon Gift Card
Second Prize: A signed copy of 'The Riding School,' with signed bookmark
Third prize: A black flogger and fridge magnets

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