Killing Time

By: SE Chardou

The Ties That Bond Trilogy


This novel is dedicated to my street team, Elle’s Sultry Saints, and the gorgeous women who help me every day with my career. I adore you all!

Thanks again to all my author friends and family.

Tabby Coots, my tireless PA and the amazing cover artist who re-did this cover. You’re wonderful and I am so happy SE Hall introduced us. Now I can’t imagine my life without you.

For everyone else who has a dream of being a writer or has ever put pen to paper, just know you’re doing it right when you can wrench emotion from people and make them feel, laugh, cry, want to throw their tablet or the physical book. Books are instruments of power and I respect them immensely.

And to all my readers and fans, this one is for you. Happy reading! <3


“Was It A Dream?” – Thirty Seconds to Mars

“I Want To Kill You Like They Do In The Movies” – Marilyn Manson

“Rx Queen” – Deftones

“Million Dollar Man” – Lana Del Rey

“Up In The Air” – Thirty Seconds To Mars

“Risk” – Deftones

“Hurricane” – Thirty Seconds To Mars

“Trophy” - +++ (Crosses)

“Beware” – Deftones

“In The Waiting Line” – Zero 7

“Old Money” – Lana Del Rey

“Love Is A Losing Game” – Amy Winehouse

Listen to Killing Time Playlist on Spotify!



FIVE LONG ENDLESS fucking days.

That’s how long she’d been trapped in the cage, down in the dungeon. Her eyes were covered with a leather blindfold and there was no way to see through the thick yet soft material. This wasn’t the first time she’d gone through one of these sensory deprivation exercises but they always freaked her the fuck out.

She sat in the dungeon and although it was contained enough and the door at the top of the stairs was locked, she’d been placed in a cage. Her hands were free but she was deprived of even the smallest amount of pleasure as she wore an uncomfortable chastity belt with two metal dildos attached inside. One was planted firmly up her asshole while the other one surged in her wet, aching cunt.

Her clit could not be touched in any way as it was covered by a metal plate. Her master told her these punishments were to teach her how to behave in their relationship. She believed him but sometimes, she pissed him off purposely just to be sent down to the dungeon and locked in the tight, confined space of the cage too.

Many in the vanilla world would never truly understand real BDSM thanks to crappy, “mommy porn” books, which explored a fairy tale version of a world which simply did not exist for those who were truly part of the community. They weren’t all sick, twisted sadists and masochists with parent and background issues.

She considered herself perfectly normal as she had a very fulfilling job where she spent most of her time half naked anyway therefore modesty was not an issue. Once she left that job and came home, she was in a complete and utterly fulfilling relationship, which consisted of Total Power Exchange—or TPE, as it was referred to those in the community.

At home, she was merely a slave and the receptacle of her master’s pleasure. Nothing he craved or desired was taboo and she would grant him any wish he wanted. Although, technically, a slave, she wasn’t really treated like one and that pleased her very deeply. He liked the sound of slave and master though in fact they had more of a dominant-submissive relationship.

She did not have to eat on the floor beside her master since he preferred them to take their meals together. She also did not do any housework and although they spent way too much time at one of the many locations of Club X-Tasy, her master didn’t believe in participating in orgies, at least not any where she would be forced to share her body with others. He did go to them—after all it was his prerogative to do so—and sometimes she accompanied him as an observer. It was an activity he put together at least twice per month to keep his customers happy but she was never on the menu.

She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all when she thought about the dungeon and how she’d gotten herself sent there in the first place. She’d just arrived home from a photo shoot on location and she was bone tired. Her master greeted her at the front door after his manservant, Albert, answered the door. His staff was completely aware of what went on between them but they acted as if it was perfectly normal and in a way, it was—they were two consenting adults after all.

He wanted her to undress as soon as Albert shut the door and kneel before him naked. She’d wanted to comply but something inside her rebelled and she quickly figured it out. She didn’t want to submit on her own that night; she’d wanted him to beat her into submission and that is exactly what happened. He’d grabbed her by the arm and frog-marched her through the grand foyer with all of its pale marble floorings and straight to the dungeon.

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