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    Let Down Your Hair: A Twisted Fairytale
    Let Down Your Hair: A Twisted Fairytale
    Let Down Your Hair: A Twisted Fairytale
    Ebook67 pages1 hour

    Let Down Your Hair: A Twisted Fairytale

    By Romi Foxx

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    About this ebook

    When Taiah unwittingly becomes caught up in a world of BDSM and humiliation, she also finds herself being molded into her very own Evil Queen's fairytale fantasy. Will she submit to being bound and kept as her Mistress's twisted fairytale sex toy?

    The first in a series of Twisted Fairytales by Romi Foxx, follow Taiah's introduction to submission, punishment and degradation; and witness the creation of Rapunzel.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRomi Foxx
    Release dateOct 30, 2012
    ISBN9781301091218
    Let Down Your Hair: A Twisted Fairytale
    Author

    Romi Foxx

    I live with my Mistress and am usually to be found bound, gagged, and obedient - or tied to a chair and writing!

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      Book preview

      Let Down Your Hair - Romi Foxx

      LET DOWN YOUR HAIR

      A Twisted Fairytale

      By Romi Foxx

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2012 Romi Foxx

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Chapter 1

      So I should start at the beginning – someone once said that it’s a very good place to start (thank you Sister Maria). Except that I won’t, as the beginning suggests that I should tell you about my upbringing, my family, my work – through all the interminably dull, idyllic childhood stuff, through the single-shade-of-endless-grey accounting career, way up to finding myself semi naked on a massage table about to be pummelled by a woman who fascinated and frightened me in equal measures. Maybe we should start there instead?

      Enter Ms Morrigan. My tutor.

      I’d hired her to teach me sports massage, reiki and crystal healing in a bid to change my life for the better, having worked myself into the ground as a corporate accountant and fallen ill. I knew I just couldn’t go back to office work – no offense to any accountants out there, it’s a rewarding career if it’s right for you. I, however, had found myself in the archetypal square peg, round hole situation and I didn’t really want my corners knocking off. I like my corners. Something had to change, and holistic therapies had helped me regain strength whilst also opening a little chink of light in my mind. I’d been so used to focussing on work that I’d forgotten to look outside of it, outside of myself even. Essentially I’d become one of those people I’d despised as a student – a drone, sleep-walking through life, missing out on so much that was happening around me because I’d closed my mind off to it all. Politics? Love? Spontaneity? Don’t make me laugh, just living my life took up all the energy I had. The don’t-make-eye-contact commute to and from work, containing the obligatory give-the-person-playing-music-and-laughing-too-loudly-dirty-looks rule, coupled with a focus on how to make a business that I had no real ownership of even more wealthy for what was a meagre salary if worked out on an hourly pay basis sapped it from me and kept me in a rut. Massage, reiki, crystals, meditation, they’d started to help me look outside of my own incredibly small existence. In a way, becoming ill was the best thing that ever happened to me. Though it didn’t feel that way at the time of course.

      Anyway, back to the ever present, omniscient Ms Morrigan. I’d ventured down the odd route of private tutoring because in all honesty I still couldn’t stand for too long without feeling faint, so I’d decided I’d feel awkward in classes with other people, worrying I’d slow everything down for my fellow students. I’d been fortunate enough to get a pay-off from work (the word ‘redundancy’ rings out like a death-knell, bringing with it fear and uncertainty. I was starting to see the sunshine on the other side of that particularly dark cloud and realise that redundancy was, for me at least, a happy word), so I decided to invest in myself.

      I had been so nervous before the first lesson. I hadn’t met her, so the reality of the situation was that I was inviting a strange woman to my house to see me with few or no clothes on (well, she’d have to demonstrate, wouldn’t she?!) I’d chosen a woman deliberately, as my home was my safe place. I couldn’t imagine a man I didn’t know stepping foot in here, never mind seeing me nearly naked. And especially not to touch me! I’d trawled the yellow pages and gone to friends for recommendations of therapists they’d used. One of them came up with Ms. Morrigan, saying that she was professional and also easy to get on with; perfect.

      So when she turned up that first day, bang on time and full of energy, I assumed it was just nerves that made my insides contract. It was simply a healthy dose of fear of the unknown that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through me as we made eye contact. And it was definitely only concern that I might be about to make a huge fool of myself, taking on something I’d be rubbish at after having given up a lucrative career, that made my legs tremble when we shook hands.

      I was straight, after all – so there obviously wasn’t anything else at work here.

      She was certainly an impressive woman however, anyone could see that. 6 foot tall, she was one of only a few woman who could look me straight in the eye without me having to bend down, and she was sporty slim. You know the type – not your ‘i-only-eat-brocolli-except-on-Fridays-when-it’s-just-water-so-i-stay-skinny’ type, she was vital. Strong but not muscly, health radiated off

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