Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Golden Retriever Husband by day.
Former sadistic professional Dom turned Daddy, and owner of Club Alias, by night.
I’ve been married to the only woman I’ve ever loved for five blissful years. My world went from being the darkest part of the universe to having to wear sunglasses at night it’s so bright, thanks to my wife and our four-year-old, Luna. They’ve healed that part of me—the heavy Sadist who needed to inflict pain on consenting Masochists with an inhuman-level pain tolerance. Instead, I’m now a pleasure Dom for my good-girl submissive, and enjoy taking up residence around our daughter’s little finger, since I can’t stand seeing either of my girls unhappy.
But something’s been amiss with my wife, my doll, lately. Something I haven’t forced her to talk about, because I know she’ll come to me when she’s ready and able to speak on it. Until then, I’ll continue to pour all the love and light she’s given me back into her and worship her in all the ways I know how.
Twyla/doll
Damn-good wife. World’s Okayest Mom. Winging it as Manager of Toys for Twats.
Failure as a submissive.
At least that’s what my stupid, oversensitive fear instinct makes me feel like.
You know how we all have that fight-or-flight response whenever we face something stressful? Well, I don’t duke it out nor run away. I freeze. And it’s really freaking annoying when I’m doing my best to be my Master’s good girl and follow his commands but suddenly get stuck as if Elsa shot an icicle straight up my—
And being the amazing Dominant he is, my husband doesn’t punish me for not following an order, even though my natural reaction also takes away my ability to speak. Instead, he immediately ends the scene as if I called my safeword, bundles me up on his lap, and pampers me with the sweetest aftercare.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Twyla
“The shipment of new dildos and intimacy companions were delivered this morning, boss. Just in time for the big sale. I left them all in the boxes for you, since I know you prefer to inspect the ones we’ve never carried before,” Christi tells me, grabbing her purse from the safe beneath the register. She tosses it on her shoulder, then rounds the counter, giving me a high-five when I hold my hand up as she passes me on her way to the front door.
I ignore the little bit of panic that hits me when she reminds me how close we are to our bi-annual sale, which this year happens to land on my husband’s birthday. And I haven’t figured out a worthy enough present to get for him.
“Awesome. I’ve been dying to see for myself just how ‘lifelike’ these things actually feel,” I reply, pushing my glasses up my nose as I turn my head toward the back room, but her giggle has me facing her once again, my eyes narrowing. “What?”
She smirks and shrugs. “Nothing, Twy. Just didn’t think you swung that way.”
My brow furrows, my confusion written all over my face—as usual. “Huh?”
Christi rolls her eyes then says, “The sex dolls. They’re all… you know… female.”
My face flushes as it always does when a misunderstanding like this happens, no matter how long I’ve worked here at Toys for Twats. Even after I took over as the head honcho when Roxy, the former owner, decided she wanted more time with her husband and retired—my own husband, Seth, quickly swooping in and buying her out, incorporating it with his BDSM club, Club Alias. And even after the probing and exposing experience of pregnancy and the birth of my daughter, Luna, I still get a little embarrassed.
Maybe it’s the fact that I was a virgin until I was twenty-four.
Or maybe it’s because I kept myself sequestered and focused on my studies, then work before my sister and I made our escape from California and landed here on the East Coast several years ago. I hadn’t been exposed to all the sexual stuff everyone else seems to find normal in TV shows, movies, and… well, everywhere you look, really. I was firmly planted in laboratories and cleanrooms while working as a chemical engineer, with no time for social media or even friends.
So how did I end up here, as the manager of a sex shop, you might ask?
I might not have had social media or friends, but I had my big sister. And as the only thing I cared about outside of my career, when Astrid needed my help to escape her abusive boyfriend, I was all in, a hundred percent. With her very life at stake, the way things were going, I knew we only had one chance to do it right. I quit my job, picked her up in the middle of the night, and after closing our eyes and letting fate guide our fingertip on the map, we drove straight to the other side of the country.
To a small military town called Ft. Vanter, where there was absolutely no use for a chemical engineer who focused on developing all-natural cleaning solutions.
And with that fancy degree and specialty, I was quickly labeled “overqualified” for literally every job I applied for around town… until Roxy took pity on me and hired me.
The virgin who had never even seen a vibrator in real life before.
But as fate would have it, during my very first week of working here, in walked Seth Owens, the—secret—owner of the local BDSM club, at which he was also the trainer in all things sex toys and equipment… although in a much more hands-on way than one would teach a new employee at a novelty store. But at that time, I didn’t know that, and after a completely mortifying mishap, where my now sexy, goofy asshole of a husband pretended he was some regular guy stopping into a sex shop for the first time, Roxy spilled the beans and basically offered me up to the sex god as his newest disciple. She recruited him to teach me about all the things I was supposed to sell… and the rest, as they say, is history.
Along with my V-card.
I giggle at my last thought, my hand coming up to cover my lips, and receive a confused look from Christi much like my own a moment ago.
“Sorry. I squirreled there. Um. No. Not what I meant. The skin on these intimacy companions, it’s supposed to feel incredibly real and unlike the silicone and other materials used for dildos and men’s masturbators. I did a deep dive into this company’s products, and judging by the compounds and componen—”
“Boss. As much as I love seeing you geek out about chemistry stuff, since you get so excited you don’t even hesitate on words like ‘dildos’ or men’s ‘masturbators,’ I’ve really got to get to class. I was just pickin’. I knew what you meant,” she assures me with a smile, giving me a little wave before shoving open the tinted glass door.