Friday, May 30, 2014

Consequences of losing a race in Prophettown #SatSpanks

These silly BDSM games of Prophettown were so fun to write that I think I need to keep sharing from them. Find them in Emily's Discovery!
Twenty beautiful, naked young women pounded up the dirt track; it was instantly clear that only Mary and Tessa had a chance of winning, and they ran neck-and-neck for the few seconds of the race, followed by a third girl well behind, who was strangely exultant to come in third, behind Mary, who pulled away just at the very end, and Tessa. 
The main feed showed the third place finisher. "There's Callie, jumping for joy," said Frank. "She won't be going over the losers' bar." 
"And neither will Mary and Tessa, of course," contributed Joe. Mary was beaming, but Tessa was weeping. "But as I said, Tessa's going to be in bad trouble with Dave." The main-feed cut to a shot of Dave who was now holding, to my surprise, a rattan cane in his right hand, and had an angry look on his face.
Here's the blurb! Click here to buy on Amazon!
The Prince of Wales and I stood in the drawing room of the lovely house outside Boulogne, alone. 
"Mrs. Wilkes," said the future king of England, "I believe you are a very naughty girl." 
I blushed deeply, and said, "I am, your Highness." 
"I hope you will not think it untoward of me," he continued, "but I should confess to you right away that I have a great fondness for correcting the naughty conduct of young ladies. Do you find that untoward of me?" 
"No, your Highness," I replied. 
"I am very much afraid that I feel the need to chastise you immediately, Mrs. Wilkes. There is something about you that makes a man think that your naughtiness is always in need of discipline. I suspect your husband feels the same way." 
The 36th book of EXPLORATIONS tells the exciting stories of fantasy-Emily as she attends the taboo athletic-and-sex festival of Prophettown and prepares to play her own role, and of Victorian Emily as her disciplinary, erotic week with the Prince of Wales begins. Mf, spanking, eroticism. 
This book of Explorations contains fiction elaborating the following sorts of fantasy that you may wish to avoid: Mf, spanking, exhibitionism. It's intended for over-18 audiences who, like me, are interested in exploring the lines between pleasure and pain, dominance and submission, and fantasy and reality. All characters depicted are consenting adults. 
Read all the Saturday Spankings!




Visual spanking stories analysis: the maids

(This analysis concerns yesterday's story.)

Maids. What is it about maids? Well, the uniform, of course. But I think the hotness of the uniform actually comes from the way the uniform embodies the even more essential hotness of the power dynamic. Maids, nurses, cheerleaders, schoolgirls: all of them groups that could be considered subject to masculine authority, at least in certain stereotypical situations.

In imagining a backstory for these "maids," then, I decided that I should make that masculine authority explicit.

And then there's the table. I really would like to know what the actual purpose of that article might be, but it certainly makes a wonderful place to have maids lean in order to present their lace-adorned backsides. Leaning of course, in such a fashion, with back to viewer, must always invoke the thought of disciplinary eroticism: to my mind, why would you have a girl in lace lingerie (like me!) lean that way if you weren't going to spank her? How tragic would it be to allow my lace-covered bottom to escape the paddle, once I presented it that way!

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Visual inspirations for spanking stories: the maids

(See here for an explanation of this series and here for an index to it.)

In the room he called his throne room, with the baroque furnishings that spoke of his royal lineage (though of course he was not a prince himself, but simply the wealthiest man in Luxembourg), Pierre had set up, before the dais on which his throne sat, a special sort of table: five feet long and about eighteen inches wide, with a cushion atop it. This unique piece of furniture was reserved for disciplining the maids.

The maids in Pierre's establishment wore a unique sort of uniform--and indeed no two maids wore exactly the same arrangement of lacy lingerie and the regulation apron, tied at the back with a fetching bow. Pierre chose them for their compatibility with one another, as well as for their suitability to wear the uniform and to serve him in the way the uniform implied they must serve him.

And every Thursday he disciplined them in the throne room.

The maids, in their uniforms, would enter, and take up their place together, leaning over the special padded table. He would sit behind them, watching sometimes for more than an hour. Eventually, of course, he would approach, and spank them with his leather paddle, on their lovely lace-adorned bottoms, until those bottoms glowed red, and they were ready to come to his bed. 


Before he did that, though, the maids knew that he expected them to show him their affection for one another. It was a lovely game they played, for the maids knew that Pierre would pretend that he spanked them because they could not keep from kissing and touching each other, when in truth he loved to see their affection: that affection, displayed over the special table appointed for their spankings, above all made him ready to give them their spankings.

(Photo via Sir Dušan Gabrielson of the wonderful Sensual BDSM community on Google Plus.)

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

BDSM steeplechase #RTKDungeonCrawl

Just in case you didn't get enough of the BDSM athletic festival in yesterday's post, here's a tidbit from one of my favorite parts of the just-released Emily's Discovery.
The first few events were familiar from standard track-and-field: in addition to a selection of running-races, there were the high-jump and the long-jump. By 10am, though, the events unique to Prophettown had begun: the first of these, which was also the final track event of the day, was a sort of steeplechase where at each of the barriers enforcers with straps were positioned to do as much damage as they could to the passing naked female runners. This was the event Sarah had been entered in, and it was really rather dramatic and exciting, because it was clearly a much loved spectacle, and both the enforcers and the runners seemed to feel the need to do an exemplary job in turning it out both for the assembled Prophettown citizenry and, via the broadcast, the BDSM world. 
"Like an ordinary steeplechase," Frank said, "the whipping-race takes place over a long distance: these girls must make it around the track six times. So you should expect to see all the the drama that entails, multiplied several times by the addition of the enforcers." 
"That's right, Frank," said Joe. "There's almost always a lead group of three or four fast runners, and then a much bigger mass of girls behind them." 
"Why is that, Joe?" 
"Simply because the enforcers are so good at tripping the girls up. A girl who tries to go it on her own always ends up flat on the track, with an enforcer strapping her backside back and blue."
And I have a blurb, now! Click here to buy on Amazon!
The Prince of Wales and I stood in the drawing room of the lovely house outside Boulogne, alone. 
"Mrs. Wilkes," said the future king of England, "I believe you are a very naughty girl." 
I blushed deeply, and said, "I am, your Highness." 
"I hope you will not think it untoward of me," he continued, "but I should confess to you right away that I have a great fondness for correcting the naughty conduct of young ladies. Do you find that untoward of me?" 
"No, your Highness," I replied. 
"I am very much afraid that I feel the need to chastise you immediately, Mrs. Wilkes. There is something about you that makes a man think that your naughtiness is always in need of discipline. I suspect your husband feels the same way." 
The 36th book of EXPLORATIONS tells the exciting stories of fantasy-Emily as she attends the taboo athletic-and-sex festival of Prophettown and prepares to play her own role, and of Victorian Emily as her disciplinary, erotic week with the Prince of Wales begins. Mf, spanking, eroticism. 
This book of Explorations contains fiction elaborating the following sorts of fantasy that you may wish to avoid: Mf, spanking, exhibitionism. It's intended for over-18 audiences who, like me, are interested in exploring the lines between pleasure and pain, dominance and submission, and fantasy and reality. All characters depicted are consenting adults.
Keep crawling!











Monday, May 26, 2014

Athletics in Prophettown #Taboo2sday

This is from the soon-to-be released 36th book of EXPLORATIONS, Emily's Discovery (update: it's here! Click!). My heroine is watching a broadcast of the midsummer games in Prophettown. I'm pretty sure it's taboo, but I can't quite figure out why. Any thoughts?
"Lovely," said Joe. "Her coach is Jeff Carter, and he was telling me yesterday that he likes to fuck Mary both before and after her training sessions--that's a bit novel: many coaches say that fucking a girl before she trains is a no-no, and some of them even think that girls in training shouldn't get any fucking at all, but it's hard to blame coach Carter when you see that sweet little puss on Mary. We caught some of that action during Mary's final warm-up." 
There was a cut to a locker-room, where a middle-aged man was enjoying Mary from behind over a bench. He was saying, "Good girl; there you go. Ride it hard, now. You're a winner; make coach come, now." 
"Jesus Christ," I said. "This place is unbelievable." 
"You're just figuring that out?" asked Charles, drily.
Blurb coming soon!


More wonderful, taboo delights below!











Friday, May 23, 2014

Edward VII, spanker royal #SatSpanks

Partly in honor of the Second Notebook having been fortunate enough to be on Spanking Stories Book Club yesterday, and partly just to shift gears and get ready for the release of the penultimate book of EXPLORATIONS, here's something from the forthcoming Emily's Discovery (update: it's here! Click!):
The Prince of Wales and I stood in the drawing room of the lovely house outside Boulogne, alone. 
"Mrs. Wilkes," said the future king of England, "I believe you are a very naughty girl." 
I blushed deeply, and said, "I am, your Highness." 
"I hope you will not think it untoward of me," he continued, "but I should confess to you right away that I have a great fondness for correcting the naughty conduct of young ladies. Do you find that untoward of me?" 
"No, your Highness," I replied. 
"I am very much afraid that I feel the need to chastise you immediately, Mrs. Wilkes. There is something about you that makes a man think that your naughtiness is always in need of discipline."
No blurb yet, even, so you can be about your SatSpanks business. Remember that Tara's Corbin's Bend book Exile to Unity is coming this week!


Read all the Saturday Spankings!




Visual spanking stories analysis: Tuscany

(This analysis concerns yesterday's story.)

I think it's the way he's lifted her dress. After that comes her leaning over him, supporting herself on his shoulders as he makes her feel she has no choice but to lean over, because she yearns to be claimed that way, yearns to be made to show what he can do to her with the merest touch, and the way he has the right to lift her dress that way, whenever he wants.

Then come the elegant dress, and her hair, and the barely-glimpsed scenery. Oh, and his chest.

But the central thermeme is the simple, dominant act of a man putting his hand up my dress, according to his desire. He finds that I am without underwear, because I must always be available to him. He has spanked me, of course--why wouldn't he? He likes to spank girls, and I am a girl who deserves spanking because I get so very wet whenever he calls me to him, so that he may lift my dress and claim his rights over my body.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Visual inspirations for spanking stories: Tuscany

(See here for an explanation of this series and here for an index to it.)

Paolo called Anna to him, across the patio that overlooked the rolling hills covered in little vineyards. When she stood right in front of him, dressed in her exquisite gown and ready for the party, he said, "Put your hands on my shoulders."

Smiling, Anna obeyed. Paolo look up at her beautiful face, and took the hem of her dress in his right hand, and raised it to her knees, to her thighs, higher. . . until he could touch her where he loved to think Anna was always waiting for him.

Paolo knew he would find no panties there, because he had confiscated her panties himself only an hour before. He touched; he claimed. Anna bent forward, biting her lower lip and looking down into his eyes, trying to yield herself to his hand as fully as she could.

"Why so wet?" Paolo asked with a mischievous smile.

"You know why," Anna whispered back. "You know how I get after a spanking."

"Ah, but that was supposed to be a punishment, was it not?"

Anna laughed, softly. "For wearing clothes so beautifully, yes."

"Indeed," Paolo replied. "As I said, when you wear your clothes so beautifully, I cannot think of anything but having you."

"So you took my panties, and spanked me over your knee, yes. And now I cannot move without thinking of your big hands, and the way they claim me for your own."

Then Paolo claimed her with his hand, even more forcefully, and Anna cried out, and threw her head back. She clung to his shoulders, as if she would fall, and rode his hand shamelessly, with her eyes closed, as Paolo looked up at her, thinking that really they didn't have to go to the party.

(Photo via Bella Bella of the wonderful Sensual BDSM community on Google Plus.)

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Aftercare in Corbin's Bend #RTKDungeonCrawl

This one comes from one of my favorite scenes--Sarah's first aftercare.
If she had to pick one thing from October and November that she always wanted to remember, it was after he had put her collar around her neck for the first time, and she sat in his lap on the sofa in front of the fire, with him in jeans and T-shirt and her in, well, nothing except the collar, and they were (she was sure no one would ever believe it, but it was true) talking about Roman history. 
That was one of the many forms that aftercare took for them. She wouldn't say that aftercare was her favorite part, because that seemed to her to betray her absolute need for the spanking and the caning and the brutal sex, but it was certainly the sweetest part. The first time it happened that way, with her collared, in front of the fire, was at about 2 am on Sunday 29 September, when she had been enjoyed by John in every way a man can enjoy a woman, and she felt the very beginnings of what John told her was called ‘subdrop’. The fire was very warm, but she still shivered a bit in his arms. 
"Shh, Sarah. Shh. It's OK. It's normal. I'm here. I'm holding you." 
"John... is it wrong?" 
He snuggled her close, and kissed her brow, then her lips. "No, sweetheart, it's not wrong." 
"But... the things I want..." 
"The things we need," he said firmly. "The things we need to find fulfillment."
Here's the blurb--buy at Amazon here!

When Professor John Dunn moves to Corbin's Bend, hoping to live the spanking-centered BDSM lifestyle for which he has always yearned, he gets more than he bargained for when his brilliant student Sarah Harshaw sets out to seduce him. Sarah, in turn, gets much more than she bargained for when she finds herself taken in hand, and loving it.

Both John and Sarah know that their torrid D/s relationship is wrong, but both also know that they have found in the other a true partner not just erotically, but intellectually as well. Will their love survive the trials that inevitably befall it when Sarah's parents find out, and confront John? Can Sarah convince John that she knew what she was doing when she entered his office even though wearing his collar wasn't in her game-plan?

Keep crawling!












Monday, May 19, 2014

Professor and student #Taboo2sday

I suppose you could consider it a minor taboo, but these forbidden erotic relationships--priest/penitent, boss/secretary, above all teacher/student--get to me.

Just the simplest of snippets, today, to prove it:

She learned a new lesson almost every day: new critical methodologies in Roman history, new submissive postures, new rope configurations, new things to be beaten with or fucked with. The most heavenly sessions were when they actually did talk about her thesis, and then she would say something sassy, and get the look, and then she would be over his knee, or over his desk, or over the kitchen table, and she would be his, all his, every spank a proof that she was what he wanted, and he was what she wanted.

Here's the blurb--buy at Amazon here!

When Professor John Dunn moves to Corbin's Bend, hoping to live the spanking-centered BDSM lifestyle for which he has always yearned, he gets more than he bargained for when his brilliant student Sarah Harshaw sets out to seduce him. Sarah, in turn, gets much more than she bargained for when she finds herself taken in hand, and loving it.

Both John and Sarah know that their torrid D/s relationship is wrong, but both also know that they have found in the other a true partner not just erotically, but intellectually as well. Will their love survive the trials that inevitably befall it when Sarah's parents find out, and confront John? Can Sarah convince John that she knew what she was doing when she entered his office even though wearing his collar wasn't in her game-plan? 




More wonderful, taboo delights below!







Note from a dominant professor: Sarah's Tutorial #CorbinsBend

When Sarah comes over to John's house for the first time, here's what happens:
He had left a note for her on the kitchen table. 
Dear little Sarah, 
Here are my instructions for you. Please remember that I will punish you if you fail to follow them. 
First, take off all your clothes. In my house, you will usually be naked, so you had better get used to it as soon as possible. In fact, don't continue reading this note until you are naked. 
She obeyed. How could anything be so shameful and so wonderful at the same time? She folded her clothes, and piled them on the bed in the guest room. Her only adornment now was John's butt plug, which was purple: she had seen it for the first time that morning when she had had to remove it to answer certain biological needs. That had been another horrible, wonderful thing. Sleeping with the butt plug–or, rather, ‘sleeping’ with it, had felt rather extraordinary: neither horrible nor wonderful, just a constant reminder of this strange thing that had happened, this strange transformation she seemed to be undergoing and was incapable of resisting, let alone stopping. She was now a girl who slept with a butt plug when her professor told her to. That was different from the person she had been the previous night, to say the least.
 Here's the blurb! Buy it at Amazon here!
When Professor John Dunn moves to Corbin's Bend, hoping to live the spanking-centered BDSM lifestyle for which he has always yearned, he gets more than he bargained for when his brilliant student Sarah Harshaw sets out to seduce him. Sarah, in turn, gets much more than she bargained for when she finds herself taken in hand, and loving it. 
Both John and Sarah know that their torrid D/s relationship is wrong, but both also know that they have found in the other a true partner not just erotically, but intellectually as well. Will their love survive the trials that inevitably befall it when Sarah's parents find out, and confront John? Can Sarah convince John that she knew what she was doing when she entered his office even though wearing his collar wasn't in her game-plan?

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Sheri Savill, the banana guy lady, comes to answer Emily's questions

Sheri Savill holds a very special place in my relatively brief life as an author. She invited me to a group for people like us, on a whim she says now was based on my "real" profession of lawyer. We hit it off, to put it mildly. Sheri claims she has a terrible time making things up, but her wonderful creations, which she (being perverse, heh) has declined to link here, beg to differ. For goodness' sake, if you read this blog, you will HOWL at Bound for Disappointment. Sheri refuses to guarantee that, of course--but I'll happily do so.

Why do you write?

Why does the lungfish loll about in the mud?

I’ve reevaluated my motives for writing fiction a lot since I started. Because fiction writing is new to me (very).

As of today, anyway, I will say that I’m clearly NOT in this to claw my way to the top of some pile, or to beat out someone for a ranking or claim-to-fame or to make pots of money. That much I’m clear on. So I’ll say that I write fiction because I … sometimes enjoy it, sort of.

But writing is about a lot of other things for me, too, that I can’t say are strictly “enjoyable.” It’s a lifelong drive in me. I’ve always written, since I could hold a crayon. I have a drive to create, express, engage, and that exists in a lot of different areas in my life. Artistic endeavors of all kinds. So writing is a weird sort of therapy for me, too, sometimes.

My blogposts? Venn diagrams and pie charts and captions about guys’ dicks (Banana Guys)? But it’s all writing, right? I probably should write my own odd brand of essay-babble-memoir-humor book, but the market for that is especially vicious, I think. Wait, the market for smut is pretty competitive too, from what I’ve seen. Jesus.

Am I supposed to be talking about writing spanking fiction right now? [Insert something here about how I find writing erotic fiction empowering or an integral part of my personal growth.] Nah, It’s not a cure for cancer. For me this stuff is like a bag of popcorn at a movie. Light extemporanea. I’d love to say this is important work that I do, and I can’t wait to label my stuff literary erotica or literary erotic fiction, but I can sense the eyerolling from here so I’ll hold off.

What's your desert-island fantasy? (If you were marooned on a desert-island with only a single fantasy to get off to for the rest of your life, what would you choose?)

Desert island, I always think of Swept Away, the Lina Wertmuller film, not the Madonna abomination. Giancarlo, oh lordy, he was so damned hot and Dommy in that.

OK, desert-island fantasy, hmm. I gave this some thought overnight and came back here. And honestly I can’t pick one fantasy because mine change all the time. They really do. I get into something for a while and then I get bored with it and have to change things up. Add, subtract, hello we are detouring to Planet WTF briefly. What got me hot and bothered last year doesn’t work now.

When I first started reading erotica, the stuff I liked, well, I couldn’t even re-read a lot of it now. It wouldn’t hold my, uh, attention, I don’t think. But in the interest of not being an obtuse interviewee, I’ll say the baseline fantasy stuff for me is generally anything with D/s, anal, hard “use” of a submissive. My preference is for hetero-oriented D/s, darker and heavier BDSM, but of course YMMV (and let’s hope it does because if we all had the exact same fantasies GOOD GOD how boring would that be?).

Do you think of BDSM and/or spankophilia as a practice or as an orientation, or as something else, and what does your answer mean to you?

I think of it as a hobby more than a “lifestyle.” Lifestyle makes me think of healthy snacks and condoms and retirement communities. Not in that order.

I started back in the early to mid 90s. Yes I am real and that’s one big difference between me and some authors, too. I may be new to fiction but I’m not new to kink (real life). At all. I know we all have to start somewhere and there’s no end to exploration and learning, so I try not to judge. But part of me thinks it’s funny that theory-only or “fiction-only” authors of kinky-ass smut (as I call it) are far more successful at the business (and it IS a business) than people who are real in it. Irony there. And reviews saying something doesn’t sound realistic or safe make me laugh too. Not at of it is, of course, but I know which parts are and which aren’t and I laugh a lot, I’ll leave it at that. Heh.

Who's a favorite character from your own work, and why?

Tara Febreze from Bound for Disappointment. She’s just fun, isn’t she? Surely she is not based at all on anyone real. Not at all. And I love her.

I have a WIP, though -- a serious BDSM erotic romance -- and right now she’s definitely my favorite character. Smart, tough, no-BS, submissive but not a doormat, etc. If you’re keeping score at home, I’ve shelved “The Limits of Her Submission” for now. Lost interest. Look, something shiny!

Who's a favorite character from someone else's work (erotic or non-erotic) and why?

Why, any and all of Emily Tilton’s characters, of course! Snort.

I am a huge fangurl of BG Harlen’s Break Her (no, really Sheri?!). I loved both the main characters in that story. The female lead is just so totally kick-ass. The male lead, such a cold brute, but so fascinating. It worked for me. I know it wasn’t everyone’s cuppa but it worked for me, I could not turn the pages fast enough. I rarely say that about any book.

Other memorable characters for me, Marla Singer in Fight Club, who is actually a strong woman. I like strong and quirky, I guess. Scarlett O’Hara. Oh! And Tara Febreze! She may be a submissive but the woman knows how to wield a chainsaw. And did I just mention Scarlett O’Hara and Tara Febreze in the same sentence? I bloody well did. Hello, ego spill on aisle four. Ego spill on aisle four. We have containment.

Thanks, Em, for having me! You’ll never work in this town again. Hey am I supposed to plug a book or something at the end here? I could do that. Buy Emily’s books, damn you, people! OK I think I’ll just thank the Academy and start walking off stage going the wrong direction and then that helpful usher guy walks up fast and grabs me by the arm and jerks me in the other direction.


Shhh! Sheri is up to something (look at the banner, there, when you click on the link)!

Friday, May 16, 2014

A natural spanker #SatSpanks

Professor John Dunn, in my new Corbin's Bend book, Sarah's Tutorial, is a natural spanker, as he reminds himself on his long drive from the East Coast to Colorado:
It did go deep for him. Somewhere around Iowa, he began to go over, in his mind's eye, all the scenes he had played with Joanna and Miriam, critiquing his performance as a Dominant and thinking about the new possibilities about to open for him in Corbin's Bend. He remembered what it felt like to have Joanna's bottom under his hand for the very first time, after he had said, in a voice that sounded strange in his ears then–soft, but not tentative despite the slight quaver in it (he had no quaver now), "I think you'd better get over my lap, you naughty girl." 
Joanna had started to pull down her jeans then, but he had had the presence of mind to stop her and to say, "I'll tell you when to do that." In a certain sense, his life had begun at that moment, when he saw the look in her eyes that made him think that he probably was, after all, as he had thought since he could remember thinking about anything, a natural at this.
Here's the blurb! Buy it at Amazon here!
When Professor John Dunn moves to Corbin's Bend, hoping to live the spanking-centered BDSM lifestyle for which he has always yearned, he gets more than he bargained for when his brilliant student Sarah Harshaw sets out to seduce him. Sarah, in turn, gets much more than she bargained for when she finds herself taken in hand, and loving it. 
Both John and Sarah know that their torrid D/s relationship is wrong, but both also know that they have found in the other a true partner not just erotically, but intellectually as well. Will their love survive the trials that inevitably befall it when Sarah's parents find out, and confront John? Can Sarah convince John that she knew what she was doing when she entered his office even though wearing his collar wasn't in her game-plan?
Read all the Saturday Spankings!




Visual spanking stories analysis: the special rope

(This analysis concerns yesterday's story.)

Really beautiful shibari has a special hold on me that seems to single itself out from the more general visual arousal of which it's a part. Bondage, non-specifically--shibari, other rope-work, leather, chains, etc.--has a certain power: the idea that a Dominant might restrain me the way the subs in the images I love have been restrained in one way or another always seems to call forth in me a unique arousal in that unlike images that suggest punishment or sex, restraint simply says that the one restrained belongs to the one who restrained her.

Shibari, though, both in the aesthetic appeal of the knots and loops themselves and in the aesthetic appeal of the forms into which the rope shapes the submissive body, adds that layer of objectification that always comes with the aestheticization of the object. That in itself doesn't single out shibari, because of course it's the very same impulse that gives us lacy lingerie (thank goodness!). Shibari is different, I think, because of the extremity of the shaping of the body (as for example in this picture) and because of the range of implications of rope itself--so different from lace. Rope is dominant, masculine even.

Thus, when "Zoe" ponders her crotch-rope, she sees it as the representative of her unnamed "he."

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Visual inspirations for spanking stories: the special rope

(See here for an explanation of this series and here for an index to it.)

Was Zoe crazy to love a man because he could tie her up this way--because he wanted to tie her up so that she must remain entirely motionless, head bent so that when her eyes were open she could see only how his rope claimed her?

Was she crazy to love him because he made her keep her pantyhose on, because he liked pantyhose?

She looked at the rope that ran between her legs, against her pantyhose-covered sex, under, and back up to join the rope that held her arms behind her back. The crotch-rope, he called it, but that seemed such a harsh, alien name for something that touched Zoe so intimately. The special rope, she wanted to call it, because it seemed to find out all the things about Zoe that made her the sub she was. The tension in that rope, when she tried to lift her head, made her shout. The special rope rubbed against the pantyhose, and the pantyhose rubbed against her sex, and against her special little opening in back, and below, and Zoe cried out.

And when she cried out, she remembered that he had said that if she made any noise she would be flogged, with his lovely leather flogger.

Zoe moaned as loud as she could, moving her head gently up and down to make the special rope do what made her craziness seem like the only sanity.

"Zoe," he called from the other room, "I'm bringing the flogger, sweetie."

(Photo via Ellis J. Sophia of the wonderful Sensual BDSM community on Google Plus.)

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

A BDSM contract from Sarah's Tutorial #RTKDungeonCrawl

I'm so excited that this book is almost here. This contract is something I started drafting several years ago--really it's the germ of all of Sarah's Tutorial.
I, the undersigned Sarah Jane Harshaw
Seeing her name in that document, not written in on a line left to be filled in, but, through the magic of word-processing, actually in the document as if it were a fait accompli that she would swear she knew her professor planned to spank her, among what appeared now to be many, many other things, judging by the length of the document she held, had a sort of twofold effect on Sarah. 
First, but not strongest, was the sense of wrongness. She was his student; he was her professor. How could he use her name like that, in a document intended to make it acceptable for him to spank her and fuck her?  Yes, she had arrived intending to seduce him into something very similar, something not officially against the code of conduct, yet still, according to her church-every-Sunday upbringing–morally wrong. But in her perspective, that differed from using her full legal name and including it into his sexually explicit legal document. 
Second, but much, much stronger, she felt a sense of erotic and, she had to admit, romantic rightness. She now felt absolutely sure that John Dunn, PhD, knew what she needed, and she was tired of pretending she didn't need it. She was tired of not letting her fantasies actually go where they really wanted to go, where she got spanked and fucked and caned and fucked and given to rooms full of men in black robes who showed her no mercy. She didn't care anymore that her father spanked her mother, and she would never end up like that, she had told herself as she planned the years ahead of her. She wanted this. She wanted him, and she wanted to be the girl in this affidavit, his girl. 
known henceforth in these presents as “the girl,”  
She couldn't help it: she moaned aloud when she read that, and looked at Professor Dunn, asking (to her aching inward shame) whether he permitted her to begin touching herself yet. She saw him nod his head. She whimpered, and, with the feeling of wrongness now strangely increasing the feeling of rightness, of extreme, irresistible hotness, moved the tips of the fingers of her right hand naughtily (oh, so naughtily) inside the gusset of the lace thong, not from above, from her waist, which would have been naughty enough, of course, but from the side and below, from her right thigh, which, for reasons she had never really understood, seemed much more shameful and therefore, of course, much hotter. And she returned to reading.
Here's the blurb--buy at Amazon here!

When Professor John Dunn moves to Corbin's Bend, hoping to live the spanking-centered BDSM lifestyle for which he has always yearned, he gets more than he bargained for when his brilliant student Sarah Harshaw sets out to seduce him. Sarah, in turn, gets much more than she bargained for when she finds herself taken in hand, and loving it.

Both John and Sarah know that their torrid D/s relationship is wrong, but both also know that they have found in the other a true partner not just erotically, but intellectually as well. Will their love survive the trials that inevitably befall it when Sarah's parents find out, and confront John? Can Sarah convince John that she knew what she was doing when she entered his office even though wearing his collar wasn't in her game-plan?

Keep crawling!










Monday, May 12, 2014

Sweet memories of the taboo in Sarah's Tutorial #Taboo2sday

I'm not sure why I enjoyed writing my heroine's despair at having my hero break up with her. Or perhaps "enjoyed" is the wrong word. . . but I certainly learned something about my own inner relation to the taboo.
Whatever. Trying to see John was the last thing she wanted, she kept telling herself. No, what she wanted was not to do anything, and so she didn't. At one point she tried to find the resolve to touch herself between her legs, where her old curls were now growing back. It didn't have the desired effect, unless the desired effect was to break through the dullness to the wracking sobs. She felt wrong down there–wrong in a way that it had never, ever felt to do any of the so-called depraved things John had made her do: the time he had introduced her to watersports, the first time she had gone ass-to-mouth, her first enema. All of that had, frankly, to borrow a phrase, seemed like God's plan for her.
Here's the blurb--buy at Amazon here!

When Professor John Dunn moves to Corbin's Bend, hoping to live the spanking-centered BDSM lifestyle for which he has always yearned, he gets more than he bargained for when his brilliant student Sarah Harshaw sets out to seduce him. Sarah, in turn, gets much more than she bargained for when she finds herself taken in hand, and loving it.

Both John and Sarah know that their torrid D/s relationship is wrong, but both also know that they have found in the other a true partner not just erotically, but intellectually as well. Will their love survive the trials that inevitably befall it when Sarah's parents find out, and confront John? Can Sarah convince John that she knew what she was doing when she entered his office even though wearing his collar wasn't in her game-plan? 




More wonderful, taboo delights below!








Sarah's Tutorial is coming later this week!

It's release-week at last for Sarah's Tutorial, the second Corbin's Bend book! Here's how things really get rolling, at the beginning of the second chapter:
Email from Sarah Harshaw to her friend Susan Lewis: 
Dear Susan, 
So here I am, back at Sandy Ridge. Marilyn (remember her? –my roommate–you met her at my house in April) says Hi. 
So: news. I'm taking Western Civ this semester. I can just hear you say: ‘You're taking what?’ Because I'm about to graduate with a degree in History, right? Stupid requirements–I waited until senior year to get this one out of the way. It seemed like an idiot move to me too. That is, until I showed up for lecture the first day, and saw my professor. He's new at Sandy Ridge: he just moved here from the East Coast. His name is Dr. Dunn, and he's a wonderful, old-fashioned prof. He's also gorgeous in that tweedy almost-middle-aged way, with dark hair that's just going silver at the temples and light brown eyes, and cheekbones so high I worry they might actually hurt him.
So I, um, asked about him at the history department. He's a widower and moved to Colorado completely alone. Plus, when I told my mom about him, she said he lives in Corbin's Bend, and goes to my parents' church. Also, I'm nearly positive he looked right at me in lecture this morning. 
You know I want to apply to grad school after I get through undergrad here. I think I should ask Professor Dunn to do a tutorial with me, don't you? You never know where that kind of meeting can lead, do you? ;) (Yes, I know I'm very naughty–don't you dare tell Fred!) 
Love,
Sarah 
“If we are to keep company, Sarah,” said Professor Dunn, “you must understand what sort of relationship you are entering into. I am past the age at which I have any wish to trifle with the more traditional—and for me dishonest—forms of prelude to my erotic pursuits with a girl in whom I have taken an interest. These days, when I accept a girl for a tutorial, I ask her to stipulate in advance that she relinquishes certain rights girls and women tend to regard as essential these days.” 
Sarah swallowed hard. She had certainly not expected this sort of discourse from a professor she planned to seduce, especially when she had her hand on his lap, lovingly and naughtily bringing it to life beneath his woolen trousers, as they sat on the little couch in his office. The professor was supposed to be grateful, not peremptory. That was how she thought these crushes worked.
Here's the blurb--buy at Amazon here!
When Professor John Dunn moves to Corbin's Bend, hoping to live the spanking-centered BDSM lifestyle for which he has always yearned, he gets more than he bargained for when his brilliant student Sarah Harshaw sets out to seduce him. Sarah, in turn, gets much more than she bargained for when she finds herself taken in hand, and loving it. 
Both John and Sarah know that their torrid D/s relationship is wrong, but both also know that they have found in the other a true partner not just erotically, but intellectually as well. Will their love survive the trials that inevitably befall it when Sarah's parents find out, and confront John? Can Sarah convince John that she knew what she was doing when she entered his office even though wearing his collar wasn't in her game-plan?

Sunday, May 11, 2014

An amazing leader of the spanking fic community, Cara Bristol, answers Emily's questions!

I frankly don't know whether to give top billing to Cara Bristol's quickly-becoming-classic works of spanking fiction or to her incredible leadership in places like the "Spanking Fiction" community on Facebook. Cara is one of a handful of ne plus ultra writers for me--spanking writers who have made it in their own slice(s) of the genre (see The Rod and Cane Society, not to mention her new Breeder series, from which she's sharing the second book this morning) but who have stuck around to help the writers coming in after them. Writers like Cara seem to me to have rejected the old zero-sum model of success in favor of a compelling vision of a spanking fiction market that just keeps growing. "Why wouldn't it?" Cara seems to be saying. "Look what we've done so far."

Why do you write?

I write because I am hardwired to express myself through the written word. If I didn’t write erotic romance, I would still write something. Even before I could write a story, I still wrote. At six years old when I was learning to read, I would make lists of all the words I knew how to spell. I wrote my first “novel” as a class assignment when I was ten. I enjoyed writing school term papers, became a news reporter, and later went into public relations, but fiction, particularly romance, satisfies me in a way that no other writing has.

What's your desert-island fantasy? (If you were marooned on a desert-island with only a single fantasy to get off to for the rest of your life, what would you choose?)

Well, my first fantasy would be to get off the island! I’m pragmatic that way. How about I’m stuck on the island with a fully loaded Kindle? No, that wouldn’t work—the battery wouldn’t last. So….I’m stranded with a strong, sexy hunk who would protect me and see to my every need. And we stumble upon an abandoned village where the natives had had a hedonistic lifestyle…

Do you think of BDSM and/or spankophilia as a practice or as an orientation, or as something else, and what does your answer mean to you?

I think it varies from person to person and to different degrees. For some, BDSM/Spankophilia (like writing!) is hardwired into their makeup. Whether a result of nature, or some sort of imprinting on their brain at early age, Dominance/submission or spankophilia has become a core part of their personality. And for others, it can be something they “play” at without a serious orientation.

Who's a favorite character from your own work, and why?

Marlix, the Alpha Commander hero of Terran, is a favorite. He has a reputation for ruthlessness, but there is an innocence to him, a boyishness that contrasts with an uber masculinity. He’s strong and fierce, but proves himself to be flexible and accommodating. He makes mistakes, but he owns up to them. He does things he never imagined he would do in pursuit of the heroine.

Who's a favorite character from someone else's work (erotic or non-erotic) and why?

Val Rios from The Point of it All by Jade Cary. He has the machismo thing going on, but he is so protective and chivalrous toward the heroine. He has great presence. Sexy as hell.

Here's the blurb of Terran!

After fleeing heartache on Terra, Tara Diehl has adjusted to male-dominated Parseon better than most vendors until she is kidnapped by Alpha Marlix, a ruling commander. At first her tall, muscled abductor terrifies her, especially when he doesn’t hesitate to quell her struggle for freedom with some force. When her attempts to escape fail, she decides to seduce her way to freedom.

But out of seduction and subterfuge grow a true intimacy that cause Marlix and Tara to take action that drives Parseon to the brink of civil war, threatening not only their relationship, but also their lives.

Terran, the second book in the Breeder sci-fi series, is a “capture” romance involving a domineering but hunky alien, a female with a bad dye job and an even worse attitude, hot sex, and spanking.

And an excerpt!

If people gawked, she did not notice. Panic blinded Tara to all but instinct as she tore through the Bazaar. Suck it up. Suck it up. Sobs of relief convulsed in her throat when her feet found their way to her shop. Perched on a counter stool eating lunch, Ramon leaped to his feet as she stumbled in.

“My God, Tara! What the hell happened?” He grabbed a bolt of flannel off its stand and threw it around her, then hugged her to his chest.

Unable to stop crying, she heaved and shuddered as Ramon rocked her and swore under his breath.

“I th-thought it w-would be o-o-okay. I only went out-outside to check.”

Ramon stiffened.

“They grabbed me,” she sobbed.

“They?”

“Th-three males.”

“Fuck,” he swore, his voice laden with concern. He did not need to say I-told-you-so to remind Tara how foolish she’d been. “We need to call Security. The Terran Embassy.”

She shook her head. “No.” The Terrans held little authority and couldn’t do anything. Parseon Security did have power but would do nothing. Nor could she endure an interrogation by males cut from the same cloth as her attackers. Parseon did not consider sexual assault a crime but rather a sport, which was why the treaty attempted to protect its female vendors by insisting they travel with an escort. By venturing into the Market alone, she had disobeyed the rules intended to protect her.

“Yes. My God, Tara, you were attacked.” He dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper. “Did they rape you?”

“No,” she lied. She squeezed her eyes shut against Ramon’s shoulder. She’d been pinned to the ground. They had sodomized her with their fingers—they just hadn’t gotten around to the rest of it, because the Commander had intervened. She recalled his growl, his shadow. The boot on her back had lifted, and her attacker had flown through the air. She’d heard a thud and a snap, and then the pounding of feet as the other two attackers had scrambled away.

Only Alpha remained. Though he’d saved her, the rage and intent to harm that enlarged his already huge body had terrified her, and she’d fled, as much from him as the attack.

“You’re bleeding,” Ramon said, and she became aware of searing pain in her legs, back, and chest. They’d cut her when they had sliced at her clothing and had pummeled her with their fists and feet. “You need medical attention. I’m calling Security.”

“No!” came a gravelly shout.

Ramon started, but Tara did not. Hadn’t she known all along he would follow her?

“I will handle this.” There was no mistaking the threat in the gaze the Alpha cast upon Ramon. “Leave us.”

A brave Ramon shook his head. “No, I’m staying.”

Aggression shimmered off the Commander in waves. Ramon was wiry but little match for most men on Terra, let alone an Alpha. She had little doubt how he would fare in a confrontation. Again, she pictured her attacker sailing through the air as if the Commander had thrown a stuffed toy and not a live adult male.

She opened her mouth to reassure her shop mate she would be okay, but before she could speak, the Commander yanked her out of Ramon’s protective embrace and slung her over his shoulder. The Alpha stalked out of her shop into the Bazaar.

She could hear Ramon yelling.

Shock and fear paralyzed her. Hard sinew and bone shifted beneath her abdomen as the Commander carried her as if her weight posed no burden. She stared at the moving ground. His arm across her thighs immobilized her legs. The flannel with which Ramon had covered her trussed her arms. Tara found her voice. “Let me go! Where are you taking me?” Had he saved her only to rape her himself? Along with amusement and derision, there’d been lust in his eyes during their fabric transaction.

The Commander ignored her.

Tara worked her arms free of the flannel and punched at his legs. “Put me down, now!”

He growled and struck her ass hard three times.

She hit him again.

He retaliated.

For every blow she landed against him, he tripled with his own.

“Help! Somebody, please help,” she screamed, knowing it was in vain. Not a single person had come to her rescue during the attack by the betas, and no one would oppose an Alpha. Parseons would not, and though shock registered on the faces of her fellow vendors, the Commander moved too swiftly for them to do anything—if they had dared. Her fear rising, Tara began to cry.

Before she knew it, they had exited the Bazaar, left the Market, and boarded the sky tram.

And all the links you'll need to find and enjoy Cara's writings!

Amazon Buy Link

Author website

Facebook

Twitter

Author Amazon Page




Friday, May 9, 2014

Stolen pleasure from the Whore of the East #SatSpanks

In the latest book of EXPLORATIONS, Emily's Festivalthe Victorian BDSM festival play has a scene where the Whore of the East pleasures the women of a castle while they try to keep on "doing tapestry" as Terry Pratchett might put it.
"Yes. . .," said the lady, "very fine. . . very fine. . . lovely. . . knights on enormous steeds, with great big swords." 
The whore was paying her the most attention now. The rule seemed to be that when the whore paid you attention, you must attempt to carry on the conversation. 
"Steeds, and swords, and steeds. . ." said the lady again, clearly in torment. 
The audience was laughing uproariously now. At last the lady spent with a scream. That was the cue for the knight to return, and for him to drag away the lady and put her again over the punishment bench. While the whore worked on the first of the maids, the lady was beaten with a strap, for the stolen pleasure.
The woman who was clearly meant to be the lady of the crusader knight who had brought the Whore of the East back to his castle rose as the whore was brought into the scene. 
"My Lord," she said, "what meaneth this strange sort of arrival? Who is this harlot, and how darest thou bring her into our home?" 
"This whore is for mine own pleasure, wife. Hussies, remove her garments, and get her over her bench of discipline, that she learn how ill it will go with her if she should question her lord's pleasures!"

In the 35th book of Explorations, Victorian Emily watches the end of the great BDSM festival-play, while in the Prophettown guesthouse fantasy-Charles enjoys the charms of five girls of refreshment. Mf, Mfffff, anal, spanking, watersports.

This book of Explorations contains fiction elaborating the following sorts of fantasy that you may wish to avoid: Mf, Mfffff, anal, spanking, watersports. It's intended for over-18 audiences who, like me, are interested in exploring the lines between pleasure and pain, dominance and submission, and fantasy and reality. All characters depicted are consenting adults.



Read all the Saturday Spankings!





Visual spanking stories analysis: lipstick

(this analysis concerns yesterday's story)

How can it be the lipstick? And yet, it is.

The lipstick means that "Violet" is in the midst of getting ready for some occasion--in the midst of the dressing-up process. The pose of displaying her panties, as she is, would inspire a very different narrative without the idea that someone has interrupted her dressing-up.

Together with the radiant smile, it suggested to me that Violet has been a very good girl. She's happy to show off the lovely lacy panties.

In turn, the way my mind works, at least, I'm forced to think of an occasion on which Violet was not such a good girl, and of what the consequences might have been.


Finally, because her smile radiates so much warmth, I think she must be anticipating something wonderful: by now you must know that as far as I'm concerned that wonderful thing could only be a spanking.