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    The Sex Ninja
    The Sex Ninja
    The Sex Ninja
    Ebook86 pages1 hour

    The Sex Ninja

    By Lily Brom

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Lily has lived her vanilla lifestyle for years secure, if not content, in the knowledge that every man she meets will eventually leave, declaring she ran over his heart like a steamroller.

    She dreamed of a man who could circumvent the cycle of lust fueled love to fear to frustration to failure so many had fallen victim to. There had to be a stronger type of man, there had to be one who would invite her to be herself and not hold her liable for their reaction to her sexuality.

    This brought her to Jack: tall, dark and devilishly handsome Jack. He was confident, yet, not cocky, emotionally intelligent and interesting, but mostly he was a deliciously cunning manipulator, who she felt might be Dominant.

    In a world where literature involving BDSM is rife with impossible fantasy we are finally introduced to Lily and her sensual experiences. She wantonly invites the lines between vanilla and kink to be blurred beyond all reconciliation. She has invited us to share her unintended journey of self-explorations, inner conflict and devoted submission to her Sex Ninja.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXinXii
    Release dateFeb 27, 2015
    ISBN9780993865015
    The Sex Ninja
    Author

    Lily Brom

    Lily is a writer, lifestyle submissive, petite masochist, proud seductress, mentor and advocate of a woman's right to self-determination.Lily is an adventurous person, an ardent outdoor enthusiast, and can often be found on the hiking trails of the Rocky Mountains with her dogs. She loves travel, culinary arts, gardening, sewing and spending time with her family. She has a degree in Liberal Arts and Business, a former career in public service and owns her own business. She is an advocate for volunteerism, social responsibility and the environment.

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      Book preview

      The Sex Ninja - Lily Brom

      1930

      ONE

      Wasn’t Talking Theoretical Orgasms

      You’re like a witch or something. You put some kind of spell on me, and I just can’t seem to stay away from you, Wonderbread informed as we were breaking up.

      Wonderbread was my last vanilla boyfriend and he was the catalyst that pushed me to embrace the kinky thoughts I had been harboring for years. He wasn’t the first man to blame me for seducing him and rolling over his heart like a steamroller.

      My relationships all shared this common thread of events that always ended the same way. A push-me pull-me game played out on an imaginary chessboard locked in a perpetual stalemate of fear, contempt and resentment. The beginnings were always hot and heavy. The intensity would either overwhelm or burn them out and send them running for the hills, only to return later, with their tail between their legs or panting with obsession. Both of which, truthfully, were complete turn-offs. Once the trust was irrevocably shattered, their shiny crown of respect was tarnished and how does anyone open up and embrace someone they can’t respect?? Even though I tried very hard not to project the sins of the past onto the next one, it only took a couple of times before I just started to accept it as the eventual outcome. Holding part of myself back had manifested under the guise of self-preservation.

      As Wonderbread assigned blame to me for how he felt, I pondered what I could possibly do to end this pattern, how I could find a man who could circumvent the cycle of lust fueled love to fear to frustration to failure so many had fallen victim to. There had to be a stronger type of man, there had to be one who would invite me to be myself and not hold me liable for their reaction to my sexuality.

      This brought me to Jack: tall, dark and devilishly handsome Jack.

      Jack shaved his head, had a goatee and beautiful body. His physical style actually became a fetish for me for a few years. I met Jack on a popular vanilla dating site. He held my interest almost immediately because he was different than most of the men who became infatuated with me. He was confident, yet, not cocky, emotionally intelligent and interesting, but mostly he was a deliciously cunning manipulator, who I felt might be Dominant. I am not saying all Dominants are cunning manipulators but the type I enjoy always seem to have one foot firmly planted in the world of a sociopath and the other in that of an enlightened humanist.

      Jack wasn’t completely into me at first. He was no doubt a player, with many women on his charming line. I also think I wasn’t his type. He was looking for a kinky girl. He never directly indicated that he was into BDSM but, something about his personality just screamed I want to tie you up. After our first telephone conversation, one could say that I was inspired. I remember laying on my bed, smiling up at the ceiling as I replayed parts of the conversation over and over in my head. I wanted to dare Jack to fuck me. I wanted to twist him up so tight in my sexuality that he forgot his reservations about me. I wanted to make him want me. I wanted to see where it would take me.

      Now, it takes a certain level of confidence or insanity to want a man who isn’t immediately into you, but I knew enough to realize that Jack was definitely outside the scope of my previous experiences and I wanted to try him. My curiosity demanded it. My motivation wasn’t inspired by romantic love or even pure lust. It was from a deep seated desire to experience a sexual satisfaction that I knew was missing from my repertoire. I am a seductress. I have been for as long as I can remember and it always kind of surprises me how I do what I do so well. I’ll admit my looks are unique and above average, but I don’t consider myself beautiful. I’ve asked quite a few men what they find so alluring about me and it always comes back to my eyes, my lips, my hair or my playful, bordering on fearlessly demented, demeanor. Occasionally I get a chubby chaser who admits he loves my Buddha belly, rounded bum and hips, which I accept as a compliment. We all have our fetishes and if my chubby body makes a man hard, then awesomeness is the best word to describe my feeling about it. Jack though, was going to be a little harder to seduce since we still hadn’t met in person and pictures are like blowing a kiss. The sentiment is there, but they lack the depth or nuance needed to get him to say I must taste this woman!

      One night while we were talking on the phone about sex, I started to rub my clit and let out a sigh-like moan to let him know I wasn’t talking theoretical orgasms anymore. Immediately his voice changed. It became intoxicatingly authoritative and he wasted no time taking control of the content of our now very sexual conversation. Normally, I was the leader in the sexuality of my relationships, my cerebral attention to detail making most men dazed and confused with arousal. It was unusual for me to have a man match me in fantasy sex talk. Even more importantly, he was a man who lived eight blocks away from my house, a man who was single and definitely kinky.

      After a week of talking, we had arranged our first date to be a casual lunch at a local café in our town. A date for which he was twenty minutes late. I was about to leave when he finally arrived but, holy moly, he was the manliest man I had ever seen in my life. We sat down at a small table that lacked any intimacy, but within a few moments, it felt like he was the only person there with me in the café.

      Am I what you expected? he checked out my cleavage unabashedly.

      Yes, you’re very handsome, I smiled happily, relieved he was as tall as he stated. Am I what you expected?

      You’re beautiful, he smiled, your pictures don’t do you justice.

      "I almost left because you were so

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