The Fetish Queen, Part One: Reborn

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As if she was needed somewhere else. In the end, it was an easy choice. The smile grew into a battle grin as the waves crashed in front of her and the wind finally won the battle with her scarf, tearing it from her hair and sending her smooth, golden locks whipping in the wind.

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The sun chose that moment to break free of the low clouds on the horizon and send shafts of golden white light over the waves. It was time to decide again, she thought, and stood, brushing sand off her s-style suit and smoothing her hair.

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She fetched another scarf from her bag and used the rearview mirror to tie her hair back again and freshen her lipstick. A loud honk woke Max Jobman up from a sound sleep, and his German shepherd, Bambi, scrambled up beside him. Mary was both his neighbor and business partner. It had sure shocked the shit out of him at the time. And now there were more surprises.

He thought about ignoring the honk for one brief second, but the incidents of the past month compelled him to get up and check. He knew he would never get back to sleep anyway. He snatched up his T-shirt from the arm of the couch and pulled it over his head. Bambi stood in front of him, grinning, eager to investigate. Max stood and stretched before locating his jeans on the floor. He tugged them on, going commando as usual, and snatched up his keys from the coffee table. Barefoot, he padded across the cool tile to the front door, where he slid on the flip-flops that he kept there for easy access. Bambi trotted at his side as they made their way down the sidewalk in front of his part of the property and rounded the corner to the street that led to the beach. His uncle and Mandy had lived together in the house for years before they were married.

Mary was coming out of her garage just as he reached the drive. A beautiful blonde wearing a red scarf in her hair and oversize sunglasses pulled up to the curb in a classic s Mercedes convertible. It was creamy and round and reminded Max of the white chocolate Godiva truffles that they sold at the Fetish Box.

Mandy had left the Box—as they called it—to Mary as well. The blonde, Lille, he assumed, stepped out of the car wearing a suit that was downright ridiculous for the beach, but absolutely perfect for a set of curves that made his mouth fall open, just a little. She came toward them and raised her sunglasses, revealing eyes as green as the rolling hills of his homeland, Ireland.

She made a pout with her lips as if she was disappointed in him, then blew him a kiss.

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Love the tattoos. Are you always this grumpy in the morning? Suddenly all he wanted was to rip that scarf off her head, toss her over his shoulder, and take her to his house and fuck her. He grimaced, his grip tightening on the thick leather of her bag, shifting it to cover his front. His dick was tenting the front of his jeans, not that he gave a piss whether anyone saw his hard-on. Next to him, Bambi whined a little and wagged her tail. She was undoubtedly hoping they were headed to the beach. He realized the blonde had left, heading into the house, so he pinned his glare on Mary.

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She was laughing at him, her large gray eyes crinkling at the corners, pale skin luminous in the morning light. She made a moue of her lips and patted him on the cheek, mimicking her friend, which made his snarl all the fiercer. She actually laughed at him. The blonde was sitting at the table when he finally made his way into the kitchen. She sat straight-backed and ladylike, looking as lovely as a s movie star.

She had a heart-shaped face with a pointed little chin and thick, soft-looking blond hair that probably curled when it was wet. He lost his breath again, just for a moment, and that pissed him off to no end. He set her bag down on the table in front of her with a thunk. The thing weighed a ton. He heard the front door open and after a moment, her happy shepherd face came around the corner of the living room, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Mary followed, looking relaxed and comfortable in a tank top and pajama bottoms, her feet encased in a pair of Ugg loafers that John, her lover and manager at the Box, had purchased for her.

She handed him a plastic-wrapped newspaper from the yard as she walked by, smacking it against his chest. He took it with a grunt and sat down. Bambi made her way under the table and lay down on top of his feet. Weak sunlight streamed into the room from a kitchen window as the scent of coffee filled the room. Mary crossed the kitchen and wrapped her arms around John. He was making coffee, undoubtedly for the blond queen of the universe. Atticus jumped up on her legs and she bent and picked him up. Watching Lille from the corner of his eye, Max saw her smile at the scene.

It was a soft, sad smile that made her seem human. Suddenly, as if she sensed his regard, she turned those green eyes on him and the softness disappeared from her expression.

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She studied him as if he were a damn cut of beef at Whole Foods. Strike that.

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See full terms and conditions and this month's choices. There isn't even any unreal OPness which most chinese novels seemed to have. Longest continuously operating club in America and possibly the world Now one day the wise Sumedha, having retired to the splendid upper apartment of his house, seated himself cross-legged, and fell a thinking. Not because he was super duper handsome and doting on MC. Goddess Dahlia Rain.

The shoppers at Whole Foods had more warmth. He hated that he wanted her almost as much as he hated the disruption he knew she was about to cause in his life. Atticus followed Mary and joined Bambi under the table. Lille took a pastry and turned her body away from Max, just a little, and he was able to relax enough to grab a croissant and pull off a chunk, scattering flakes that resembled fish food flakes.

He set it down gently in the center of the table. John had been managing the Fetish Box for Mandy before she died, and he stayed on as a manager when Mary took over.

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Max wondered what was going to happen now that the queen of the universe had arrived. Appropriate, Max thought snidely. John pulled out a chair and joined them, settling his lean, rangy frame with ease at the small table. He gave judgments without partiality, hatred, ignorance, or fear. Lawsuits being thus decided with justice, there were none who brought false cases. Though the judges sat all day in xxiii the court, they had to leave without any one coming for justice.

It came to this, that the Hall of Justice would have to be closed!

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It behoves me, therefore, now to examine into my own faults; and if I find that anything is wrong in me, to put that away, and practise only virtue. Thenceforth he sought for some one to tell him his faults; but among those around him he found no one who would tell him of any fault, but heard only his own praise. And finding no fault-finder there, he sought among those who lived outside the city, in the suburbs, at the four gates. So he made over the kingdom to his ministers, and mounted his chariot; and taking only his charioteer, left the city in disguise.

And searching the country through, up to the very boundary, he found no fault-finder, and heard only of his own virtue; and so he turned back from the outermost boundary, and returned by the high road towards the city. Now at that time the king of Kosala, Mallika by name, xxiv was also ruling his kingdom with righteousness; and when seeking for some fault in himself, he also found no fault-finder in the palace, but only heard of his own virtue!

So seeking in country places, he too came to that very spot. And these two came face to face in a low cart-track with precipitous sides, where there was no space for a chariot to get out of the way! Take thy carriage out of the way, and make room for the chariot of our king! What is now to be done? And when he had arrived at that conclusion, he asked that charioteer what the age of the king of Kosala was.

Read More From Nicole Camden

Newly single and loving every minute, Lille—a.k.a. the Fetish Queen—is unleashed and ready to dominate in the first chapter of the sexy, enticing Fetish Queen, buxom, and bold, pin-up. Editorial Reviews. About the Author. Nicole Camden, author of “The Nekkid Truth​” in Big Guns The Fetish Queen, Part One: Reborn by [Camden, Nicole].

But on inquiry he found that the ages of both were equal. Then he inquired about the extent of his kingdom, and about his army, and his wealth, and his renown, and about the country he lived in, and his caste and tribe and family. And he found that both were lords of a kingdom three hundred leagues in extent; and that in respect of army and wealth and renown, and the countries in which xxv they lived, and their caste and their tribe and their family, they were just on a par!

But pray, then, what is the kind of goodness your king has? And when he had thus spoken, both Mallika, the king xxvi and his charioteer alighted from their chariot. And Mallika the king took his exhortation to heart; and having in vain searched the country through for a fault-finder, he too returned to his own city, and practised charity and other good deeds; and so at the end of his life he went to heaven. But none the less also is the story-teller thoroughly in earnest; he really means that justice is noble, that to conquer evil by good is the right thing, and that goodness is the true measure of greatness.

The object is edification also, and not amusement only. The lesson itself is quite Buddhistic. It is by no means, however, exclusively Buddhistic. It is to be regretted that some writers on Buddhism have been led away by their just admiration for the noble teaching of Gotama into an unjust depreciation of the religious system of which his own was, after all, but the highest product and result.