Gabi Moore - Mindfuck - A Bad Boy Romance With A Twist

C opyright 2017 by Gabi Moore. All rights reserved.

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H ey there ! Im Gabi Moore and Im on a mission to love like Ive never been hurt, dance like nobodys watching, and write sex scenes like my mother didnt raise me right.

I write about some of the naughty things Ive done, and some of the naughty things I still wish I could do. Some days, I forget which is which.

I like coffee and men with accents. And lately, Ive been trying to give up dirty puns but its hard.

So hard.

For naughty surprises and a freebie, join my

NAUGHTY NEWSLETTER!

- Gabi Moore

NORA:

The love story Im about to tell you is the purest and most beautiful thing Ive ever done.

But it all began in the darkest, ugliest way possible.

Forget what you know about power and domination. Yes, this is a story of submission, but real submission, where the stakes are real and the cost is high.

This is a story like all other good stories. It has good guys and bad guys, scary parts and naughty parts. And it has me, someone who thought they knew how the story would end, just like you think you do right now.

But when Dean Cane entered my life, everything changed

Ive done some kinky shit in my time, believe me, but nothing could have prepared me for that last taboo, that deepest humiliation, the pleasure I had long forbidden myself love.

DEAN:

It was revenge that led me to her at first, Ill admit it.

I thought I had her pegged. I thought I knew what I was getting into. But I underestimated her.

Im a powerful man. Getting others to bend to my will is second nature to me. But something about her made me want to tear away at all that and see what was hiding underneath.

But she had no idea who I could be, or how dark the truth really was...

Cutting myself off from the Cane empire? Incurring the wrath of some of the most powerful men in the country?

I could abandon her, let her take the fall and walk away from all of this. Or I could run with her now and do my best to protect her

Y ou think that people like me cant actually be real. You laugh nervously at the mention of my existence and quickly change the topic. That stuffs just for other people, living other lives, right?

But youre wrong.

I learned this lesson the hard way.

You know all those things you think dont apply to you? All those weirdos and perverts in the world doing shocking things you could never imagine yourself doing? Well, youre more like them than you know. Believe me.

The story I want to tell you is a story like all other good stories. It has good guys and bad guys, scary parts and naughty parts. And it has me, someone who thought they knew how the story would end, just like you think you do right now.

This is a story about nakedness.

As you read, I ask you to undress, with me. Ill go first, if you like, but you must trust me and do as I say.

Take everything off.

Take off your clothing and your shoes and your underwear. Strip down to what you are underneath human decency. Underneath all your assumptions and habits. Come down deep with me, dont be scared.

Do you feel uncomfortable?

Good.

Lets take off more.

I want you to peel off all your doubts, all your expectations. Forget about who you think you are and who you tell yourself I am. Lets be naked together we can always come back to our costumes later, cant we?

Look at yourself now.

Look at your flesh, and the way it breathes and pulses with the waves of sensation that pass over it. It has memories and desires, this flesh, but try to forget those now. Isnt it interesting, how it swells and responds to touch? To pleasure? To pain? But lets not linger here. Your bare flesh is lovely but its also a barrier to me, to our connecting, to all the dark and exquisite things I want to show you. Where were going, you wont need your flesh. So take it off, too.

Our game is played deeper down still, underneath the flesh. Will you go there with me? Your bones and organs are not needed here either. I am interested in what lies underneath even that; I want to flirt a little with the being wrapped all the way at the very core. Do you remember that being?

I hope you have listened closely.

Have you taken it all off?

Look with me now, at what remains.

Can you see it? Can you feel how delicious it is, to behold this raw, hot seed at the very center of you? How delicate, how strange this little kernel. We cant stay here for long, but be brave. Hold on with me. Do you see it?

I see it.

I didnt used to, but now I do.

This is the story of how I learned to peel everything away. To be more naked than I had ever been before. If youre ready, if you can let go of your fear, then come with me now, and Ill show you exactly how it all happened

M yth :Its all about sex

Reality:Its all about control

F oreplay begins well before the client walks through my door. He only ever sees the end result: the perfect, total picture of everything he had until then only fantasized about.

Its overwhelming for many of them at first. They see their darkest, most disturbing fantasies come to life, and the squeaking PVC of her cat suit is more real than anything thats happened to him in years. Her scent is so intoxicating he can almost taste it at the back of his throat.

My clients pay a lot because they get a lot.

Im an artist, and the first brush strokes I lay down are some of the most important. I spend at least 30 minutes primping my outfit before anyone steps a foot into my dungeon. I wouldnt want a wayward eyebrow hair or a rough hangnail to destroy the illusion, would I?

Around two thirds of all the men I see are roughly identical: they all have the same haircuts, the same pale indents on their ring fingers, the same nervous hunger in their eyes. They pay me upwards of $700 for a half hour of my precious time, and for the mind-blowing thrill of being told what disappointing little scum they are, and how if it pleases me I might decide to allow them to lick my boot.

Im not a prostitute. In fact, whatever the opposite of a prostitute is, thats what I am. I make my own rules, do as I please and earn obscene amounts of money in the process. I am a Pro Domme to use the lingo, but Im more than that. For me, its not much of an illusion at all. Ive already played at being weak and helpless in this life, and I like my current game much, much more.

I spend hours getting dressed, grooming, painting my face. When I look on as men spill all those despicable desires that the world out there likes to pretend doesnt exist, I make sure Im looking my absolute best.

For most people, my occupation seems cheap and dirty. A little alarming. But that only tells you about them, not me. And if anyone wanted to take any of it away from me, theyd have to claw it from my cold dead hands. Im a connoisseur and a dominatrix. Im classy, refined, and demanding. But really, none of those labels matter at all.