The renegade ex-white slaver known as Tyler thought he had seen it all. But he had not yet met one of his greatest adversaries: a woman who hated beauty, but didn’t want to destroy it… she wanted to possess it, control it…subjugate it......
With the help of her evil brood and a perverse band of sadistic sorority sisters, the worst nightmare of five beautiful young women come true. And only one man can save them from a fate worse than death. Come meet them all on this college campus, where the administration gets high marks in white slavery, and pretty coeds enroll, but never graduate. Instead, they get…EXPELLED!
EXPELLED is my latest TYLER novel, available in both ebook formats and as a collectible hard copy, too.
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Sara Cullum made a mistake. Maybe she should have struggled; maybe she should have fought. But she definitely should not have pleaded. She should not have looked up with those light blue eyes of hers and made that sound with her gagged mouth, moving her pink lips that way. She didn’t know Hugh Carlson, but she should have known enough not to do that at the dean.
Elizabeth Russidge looked at the girl with disgusted pity. She should have known that begging that way would only excite him more. Why did she think they did this in the first place?
Why did they have to gag and bind her at all? They wanted her helpless; they wanted her desperate; they wanted her unwilling. That was the only way he could deal with her. That was the only way he could have her.
It was his dream come true and he had paid an enormous amount to the college for it.
Mistress Elizabeth smiled when she saw Sara plead with her body and eyes. She listened to the frightened student explaining his poisoning plight and smiled, knowing that Sara’s mistake would ensure the university the grant Hugh Carlson had promised it. She smiled as Carlson paused, then grabbed the girl around the waist.
Sara screamed and writhed and kicked as Carlson flung her back to the couch. As soon as she hit -- her torso over the seat cushions, knees on the floor, head against the sofa back -- Carlson was on her, dragging up her skirt and reaching for his zipper. Sara jerked herself away, but he caught her like a veteran angler catching a reluctant fish. He pulled her back into position again and again as he continued his quest for his fly. Sara was like a panicked pony -- arching, scratching, flinging her head back, kicking.
Mistress Elizabeth was enraptured, watching the girl’s elegant, imprisoned form in motion, her lips stretched by the packing and gagging bridle. There was only one thing marring the symmetry, and the dean strode forward to rectify the matter.
Elizabeth wrapped one hand in Sara’s silky hair and pulled. With a shocked grunt of pain, the girl was forced to push her head on the sofa cushions.
“Hold her elbows," Elizabeth instructed sharply, bringing up the handcuff key.
Carlson looked up in surprise, but then did as he was told, practically drooling.
As Sara stretched herself agonizingly, the tears just beginning to roll down her face, Mistress Elizabeth moved her wrists so that they were handcuffed behind her, the belt-strap holding her limbs in the middle of her back.
There, that’s better , the dean thought as she stood. She grabbed Sara’s hair in a twisting grip, forcing the girl to rise.
“Hey!” Carlson said, but the dean merely put her finger to her lips and pulled Sara by her hair over to the table. She held the girl’s head down so that Sara was forced to walk, bent over and off balance.
The man followed quizzically behind, his fly open.