The Clever Fox: Part Two (The Pleasure Hound Series)


Product Description


Front Matter


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven


Chapter One

The Cindermama series


Stay tuned at the end of the book for a glimpse at Part Three of this serial!

In a matriarchal society where men are second class citizens, Emet is a vocal advocate for his gender. He and Alyss are pitted against one another over a legal issue that could eradicate fundamental male rights. When he discovers his husband Adom and Alyss are more than friends, he suspects her of seducing Adom to throw him off. But while Emet may butt heads with Alyss in chambers, in the bedroom neither he nor his husband can keep their hands off her. 

This story contains MM sexual scenes, MF sexual scenes and rope bondage.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2015 by N. S. Seneb

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

Edited by Heartspell Media, LLC

Cover design by
Yocla Designs

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition June 2015

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Chapter One

Alyss didn’t need to open her eyes to see the sun had risen. She felt the rays press into her face, her shoulders, her legs. The weight of the light cracked open the surface of her being. The bright tendrils reached into the chrysalis of her self. It wrapped around her soul and pulled.

Alyss opened her eyes. Her hands went to her shoulders, her thighs, her heart. There was an itch on her skin though she’d bathed and oiled herself before going to bed last night. She’d had to wash to scrub away the evidence of the paint.

She sat up now. She scratched at the itch at her elbow, then on down to her wrist. She stopped there, feeling the indentations in her skin from the previous night; the marks left by Adom’s ropes.

When she came home last night, she couldn’t sleep for all the energy running through her body. After Adom freed her from the ropes and massaged the kinks from her wrists, Alyss had expected all her worries and weights to resettle. They hadn’t. The sense of weightlessness, of freedom, remained. On her way home she’d gotten a burst of creative energy as though the ropes had freed her. She’d picked up a box of colored pencils and paints from a store. She snuck them into the house as though she were sneaking in a lover. She closed and locked her bedroom door and then lay on the floor all night wrapped up in her artwork. Before dawn, she shoved all the drawings into a dress bag in her closet. The servants weren’t allowed to touch her garments without her express permission. Her Mother and Grand Mother had no care for clothes outside of their basic functionality of covering their modesty. Her drawings were safe. No one would go in there.

Alyss went into her closet now and grabbed a dress of orange solid lines outlined in black. The dress fluttered over her head and came to rest on top of her curves. She went to her dresser to accent the dress with hair clips that resembled a butterflies wings.

Outside her window, a field of green stared back at her. Her Grand Mother’s gardens were once filled with an array of colorful blooms that people came far and wide to see. Alyss had loved waking to the sight when she was a girl. The best view had been from the nursery she’d shared with her sister. One of her male nannies had said that the garden had been designed by one of the girls’ fathers as a tribute to the Goddess. Neither Merlyn nor Alyss had ever met either of their fathers. Her Mother had sent both males away shortly after Alyss’ conception. Angyla had had two girl offsprings, a feat most women did not achieve in their society. Having no plans to conceive more, Angyla no longer had use for her husbands and sent them away. When both girls made it safely into their teen years without illness or incident, their Grand Mother had the flower garden tribute mowed down, replacing it with practical produce.

This morning, a spot of color in the fields caught Alyss’ eyes. At the edge of the greenery a purple flower, perhaps a violet, struggled to reach the surface and the sun’s rays. But no sooner than Alyss spied the fledging bloom did a shadow overtake it and the ground’s keeper yanked it up by its roots.

Alyss jerked back from the window as though she felt the life-ending effects of having her essence pulled from her own depths. She’d learned at a young age that this household suffered nothing and no one coloring outside of the practical lines set up by its’ matriarchs.

The sound of thunder called from the distance. The bright day and the far reaching rays of the sun would soon be overtaken by a storm. Alyss grabbed a gray wrap to protect herself from the elements outside her doors.

Before leaving her bedroom, she took quick steps to her closet. She shut the door to her wardrobe, enclosing her garments, the pencils, paints and canvases into the darkness. She hesitated before finally going out of her bedroom to face the sterile walls and monochrome carpeting of her home. Her skin itched again.

In the dining room, her Mother and Grand Mother sat at the table spooning jam onto their bread.

“Good morning, Mother, Grand Mother.”

“You’re awful chipper today,” said her Mother. “You must be prepared.”

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