This blog will contain...
...profanity, sexually explicit dialog andadult imagery.
If you are under 18 and/or offended by this...

Thanks fiona, from "Sir Q and Me" for the warning message that just makes me melt. :)

Sunday, June 30, 2013

An enema for ownership?

Now I've talked on humiliation through things like enema play in the past. You may remember that I shared I see that as only one possible motivation behind the use of enema play. (urgh momentary vent- I'm feeling a hate on the word "play" for BDSM activities at the moment.) Beyond humiliation, I see ownership (in a BDSM context) and care being other possible avenues to explore with enema play. While humiliation can be a powerful motivation in BDSM, what is humiliating is not the same for all people. For instance, I don't find the specific idea of my Master giving me an enema a humiliating idea- unfortunately, it's a hard limit for Him, so I only get to enjoy it in fiction.

So yes, be aware that eventually you'll see scenes in my Vala's Story series where different slaves are given enemas. It doesn't happen constantly, but it's definitely there. I'd like to give you some fiction to enjoy, something mentioned in one of my books (not saying which lol), but not actually shown...

The Queen, Simon, and Abrecan...

"My sweet boy." The Queen ran his hand over Abrecan's back.

Abrecan pressed his lips to the hard tile of The Queen's shower. His right knee pushed against the wall.

The Queen looked over his shoulder. "Simon, you have everything ready?"

"Yes, my Queen. Just bringing it over to the table."

"Are you my good boy?" The Queen knelt just outside the shower.

"Yes, please, my Queen, I'm being good, my Queen." Abrecan groaned at The Queen's hands moving over his ass. "Please, my Queen."

"Please, what?" The Queen pressed one long finger between Abrecan's asscheeks. "Tell me what you want, little boy."

Abrecan groaned. "I... I... my Queen..."

"You need me to tell you?"

"Please, yes, my Queen."

Simon stood behind The Queen. "He needs you to take care of him, my Queen."

"Yes, please, my Queen." Abrecan trembled.

The Queen accepted a bottle of lube from Simon. He held it over Abrecan's crack.

"Oh my Queen!" Abrecan's legs moved back and forth.

"Good boy." The Queen pushed two lube-covered fingers into Abrecan. He moved them in and out, slowly.

Simon leaned against the glass enclosure. "Are you going to enjoy his ass before the enema, my Queen?"

"Hm. Should I fuck your beautiful ass, fill it with my cum, and then clean you out?" He laid his other hand on Abrecan's neck.

"I beg you please, my Queen." Abrecan pushed back on The Queen's fingers.

"But do you deserve it?" The Queen added another finger.

"Not... not deserve... but I beg, my Queen."

The Queen dripped more lube before insinuating a fourth finger into Abrecan.

"You would barely feel my cock after having my hand stretching you."

"It... it would feel... good... to you... my Queen." Abrecan panted.

"Yes, it would." The Queen pressed his face against the back of Abrecan's neck. "It always feels good to fuck you, my stormy boy."

Abrecan shuddered to hear the endearment pass The Queen's lips.

"No, maybe later I will fuck this ass when I have you in my bed. Then when I have had enough of your ass, I will fuck your face until I come deep in your gorgeous throat."

Abrecan groaned. He reached behind himself to further open to the invasion of The Queen’s fingers.

"The enema ready?"

"Yes, my Queen," Simon murmured.

The Queen eased his fingers out of Abrecan; the sub sighed regretfully. "Keep holding yourself open for me."

"Yes, my Queen." Abrecan's fingers pushed into the meat of his asscheek.

The Queen slid the rectal tip into Abrecan's asshole. "Relax your grip, good boy."

"Yes, thank you, my Queen." Abrecan luxuriated in The Queen's hand caressing his back. "My Queen," he whimpered as he began to writhe against the floor.

"Yes, my sweet boy. Good boy." The Queen repeatedly kissed Abrecan. "Does this feel good?"

"Yes, thank you, my Queen. Please, my Queen, my Lord."

Simon gazed down on Abrecan. "I love hearing him beg. Such a precious sound, my Queen."

"You taught him well." The Queen grinned at Simon.

"Thanks, my Queen." Simon clasped The Queen's shoulder. "He should be full shortly."

"That would be why he is moaning so beautifully." The Queen pressed a hand against Abrecan's lower back. "Is Simon right? Are you very full?"

"Yes, my Queen. Yes, my Lord Simon is right." Abrecan pressed his lips together as a tear dropped down his cheek.

"Good, sweet boy." The Queen brushed the tear away. "I love you, my boy."

"Starting to hurt, my Queen." Abrecan gasped.

"Almost done." The Queen glanced up at Simon who nodded. "What a good slave you are. I love how you obey me."

"Yes, obey you, my Queen," Abrecan cried, his breath catching with his sobs. "Please, my Queen," he begged.

"Just a little longer." The Queen eased the tip of out Abrecan and handed it to Simon. "I want your ass very clean before I take you into my bed and fuck you until you are begging to come as hard as you are crying now."

Abrecan's lips trembled as he gazed up at The Queen. "I love you, my Queen."

"I love you too." The Queen brushed his fingers across Abrecan's lips. "Come on, sweet boy. Stand."

Abrecan grasped The Queen's hands. He struggled to his knees then to his feet. "My Queen."

"Yes, good boy," The Queen murmured, Abrecan leaning into him while being led to the toilet. "You are pleasing me very much right now."

"Thank you, my Queen. Thank you." Abrecan stumbled along, bent forward.

"Sit, good boy," The Queen urged. "You may release as soon as you sit."

Abrecan cried out, groans pouring from his mouth. He squeezed The Queen's hands, pushed his head against Simon. "Yours, my Queen." He strained again, pushing more of the fluid out of his body.

"Whose slave are you?"

"Yours, my Queen," Abrecan panted.

"I enjoy controlling you even in this way, my boy."

Abrecan's eyelashes fluttered. He shook with his crying and the emptying.

"Is my bed ready for us?"

"Yes, my Queen." Simon squeezed Abrecan's shoulder. "Ready for you to enjoy this boy and for him to sleep between us, my Queen."

Abrecan whimpered.

"Good boy." Simon grabbed toilet paper and wiped Abrecan.

"Thank you, my Lord." Abrecan stared up at Simon.

"Good boy," Simon kissed Abrecan's cheek. "Go to bed with our Master now."

Abrecan shuddered one last time and rose awkwardly into The Queen's embrace.

"Come, sweet. I want to hold my loving slave." The Queen led Abrecan into his bedroom. "Mine."

When I started to enjoy enemas, I had a bit of a learning curve. First I found out that the disposable enemas you see in most stores are meant for constipation relief and therefore aren't safe for regular use. Thankfully Fleet came out with their natural variety, just for internal cleansing. However the environmentalist in me shuddered at all that wasted plastic. So after fruitless searches of local stores for home enema kits, I moved online. I found everything from the $6 hot water bottle/douche/enema kit that I bought to a $100 system at www.jtsstockroom.com . Believe me, if my Master was into enemas too, I'd beg for a costlier model. The tube that came with my cheap model will mean I'll eventually beg to spend more money on something a bit better.

Speaking of solution- that was a difficult search too. Unfortunately I didn't save any of the links so I could share them with you. I can't remember where I found it, but what I’ve ended up is a few squirts of aloe mixed with warm water into a 1 quart bottle. (If you try this, make sure to get straight aloe with no numbing stuff in it- like for sunburns.) There's a recommendation for a saline-based solution in Dr. Charlie Glickman's "Ultimate Guide to Prostate Pleasure" that I want to try as well.

My Master has no direct involvement with my enemas; it's part of my personal grooming that I do. But it's His enjoyment of anal sex & stimulation that I think on as I'm in the bathroom.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

So I can't give consent.... ?

My Master says, "You look for reasons to be offended, pissed." Yes, He's right on that often enough, although not always literally.

I already mentioned the FB censorship of consensual BDSM pages a few days ago. Well in the midst of screen shots from the "Women, Action, and the Media" page (which denies its involvement despite screen shots proving their involvement), I came across one screen shot that seriously angered me.

I couldn't find that particular one when I went looking for it yesterday, but I'll summarize the paragraph as I did for friends:

BDSM is violence, always, and is nothing but violence is it's impossible for a woman to consent to it. Therefore any woman who identifies as a submissive is really just a domestic abuse victim.

More than just the censorship of consensual BDSM pages, the woman who seethed this opinion angered me. "So I can't consent to our relationship, Master?" I vented at Him. "I am not a domestic abuse victim" appeared in at least one status message of mine on FB. The very idea that this woman, under the auspices of feminism, was declaring my agency invalid pissed me off.

Of course, it's not as simple as that. Yes, I've heard arguments similar to hers in the past. There are a few problems within them. The equation that BDSM is only violence is a problem for me. While it isn't always the case, for me (and for most of my writing) BDSM is a lived part of a committed relationship.

Violence being wrong is another problem. Is it just wrong in this situation because it's within a romantic relationship? Hearing "violence," what comes to mind for me is a variety of sports (like football, bull fighting), human rights' abuses in factories, foreign countries, school bullying. Not a consensual BDSM relationship in which two or more individuals are interacting for mutual pleasure.

I'm sorry to admit that how to rebut the "domestic abuse" charge escapes me at the moment; I'm with my Master at a gaming store and have no internet connection. I know I've read BDSM writer rebuttals however; on Leather & Grace UUs for BDSM Awareness' website, there is a section in BDSM basics for UUs that talks about it- http://leatherandgrace.wordpress.com/bdsm-basics-for-uus/bdsm-versus-abuse/ . I think I remember the big difference being about open, honest, discussed consent. And this woman is saying that I can't consent!

Another problem with that woman's comments are their heteronormative world view. She doesn't leave space for female dominants, male submissives, gender queer or same sex pairings. She only acknowledges Male dom, female sub pairings and assumes a homogeneity that just doesn't exist. Yes, my Master is a cisgender man and I am His cisgender female submissive. However, we are polyamorous and we do have a discussed agreement around that. While I'm cisgender, when talking about sexual orientation, I identify as queer, using the UUA definition of the identity. We may look like the patriarchy-based relationship this woman scorns, but our identities make a lie of that image.

Now going in a different direction, I want to share a (possibly unfair) summary I made for one non-BDSM friend; she understands quite a bit about BDSM despite not being into however. I said:

It seems common among heterosexual pairings that the female submissive talks, reads, writes, thinks about BDSM constantly, including philosophical consideration of consent far more than the male dominant.

I can tell you that, especially if you've read more than one blog post of mine, that is definitely the case for my Master and I. I even engage in education and activism around BDSM (often with L&G). So it baffles me that this woman is saying I can't consent. Does all this thought I engage in about BDSM mean nothing then?

In the final analysis, I have to ask what this all means. This woman isn't alone in believing this way. Sometimes I will ask rhetorically, has this woman ever spoken to anyone like me? It's easy enough to read someone's blog post and disagree, but has she ever looked into the eyes of a female submissive and truly heard her story? I doubt it. The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom has been engaged in it's "Consent Counts" program awhile now. What will it accomplish? Will it manage to educate anyone like this woman? I sure hope so.

So I started this out with a quote from my Master. I can almost hear some feminist decry, "Her master has taken her self-esteem so she can't even think for herself." But notice, yes, I quoted, Him, but I didn't say He's always right or that my tendency to offense is good or bad- this if for me to judge and Him to react to. :D

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Judging each others' BDSM practices?

First off, I feel the need to defend my friend Patricia Logan's book "Silver Ties (Silvers)"- I shared my review of it yesterday. This one 2-star review got my mind going for the following post. For some reason, I can't manage to give you a link, but feel free to wander over to Amazon and read the 14 reviews the book has currently received. Now first off- yes, I gave the book a 5 star while she only gave it 2. From my perspective, she quibbles about BDSM practices, activities as if her understanding of these things are the only understanding- or at least the only correct one. She quibbles about how Zack- the story's Dom- presents himself as a Dom. Yes, Zack needs the leathers etc to get into the right mental space to dominate. More power to him; that's not how my Master and I play (my Master is much closer to The Queen's preference for a pair of jeans), but you know, it's a PREFERENCE! There is not a thing wrong with the way Zack is as a dominant as long as the submissive he's playing with it is okay and well, Cassidy finds it very hot.

Also I would summarize several of her comments as "That's not how I play/I found that too intense." Well I find watersports play that involves the drinking of urine too intense; should I go find a watersports story and complain in a review of it?

But this review is just the starting point for me thoughts. I've had other conversations recently where a friend "into BDSM" questioned something and often enough, I thought the questioning unfair. Just because you don't like or don't agree with a specific type of relationship or sexual activity, it does not always make the "whatever" inherently wrong.

Like one is "Christian Domestic Discipline." I probably won't do it justice and I hope a friend who writes/practices DD will comment in my comments about this. To my understanding, DD is almost like a sub-set or a related relationship type to BDSM. Now CDD is a sub-set of DD; you don't have to be Christian to practice DD, but there are Christians who do. While I enjoy "spanking/Domestic Discipline" fiction, I know the whole practice isn't for me. I like the Dominance/submission of BSDM, but there's a whole world of activities I enjoy that don't necessarily "belong" under DD practices as well. That's fine to my Master and I; we have our BDSM, we have friends who are into DD- neither of us are better or worse. However with an explosion in articles written about DD- and not by DD practitioners, that I'm aware- I worry that the DD community is simply getting what BDSM-ers have been getting already with the popularity of "Fifty Shades of Grey"- people writing about us who don't really know what they're writing about. Sure, you can read an article about safeword use and think you understand, but you don't.

Beyond outsiders of the community- whether it's BDSM or DD we're talking about- let's touch on community members judging each other. I've already vented a few times throughout this post, given a few examples. But really, why do we judge each other's kinks? Don't we get enough of that from the outside? People telling us that what we do is disgusting, wrong? We are talking about adult consenting to activity. As long as everyone is consenting, no children or animals are involved, and no permanent harm is done without previous agreement, I don't see where it's anyone's place to tell another what's right or wrong.

Monday, June 24, 2013

talk talk talk, BDSM, Facebook censorship, fucking, and consent

Hm, pondering posts. Yes, I just did one on Saturday, but this afternoon ( in my time zone) you get another one.

My Master was off at a gaming convention for several days- He just got this morning. :D It's been nice, He's used me twice in the last few hours and once I get this written and posted, I'll be going to wake Him and hopefully get another using lol.

Looking at that paragraph makes me think about various things that happened on Facebook this weekend. Now if you've read more than a post or a two of mine, you've no doubt come across my thoughts on feminism. With how important equality is to me, with how I believe so strongly in women's agency, in our choices being supported, when I was a teenager just really starting to learn about BDSM and feminist philosophy, I found an ideology that wanted to police women's sexuality, that was NOT the supportive and freeing belief set that I'd been taught feminism should be or even was. While I haven't done much of my own research, it does appear that the "feminist" page "Women, Action, and Media" and some of its members are behind Facebook's unpublishing of consensual BDSM pages. I did read a bit and found myself having to read no more- one member of that group posted a long paragraph that I will sum up as "BDSM is about violence- violence is always wrong- there's no way BDSM can be consensual- women submissives who say they consent are victims." Yup, I'm sure if He reads this post, my Master will be glad He was away because I'd have ended up venting at Him about that one. I am NOT a domestic abuse survivor. I chose this life, being a lifestyle BDSM slave. I want this. I am happy living this way. No, I'm not saying it's for everyone- neither is my writing. But it is for me and for those who enjoy BDSM and practice it safely. How dare this woman say that I can't consent to this piece of my identity!

I'm getting ready for Camp Nanowrimo- it was in 6.5 days last time I logged into the site. I'm so excited. While I've participated in Nanowrimo in November 3 times (and won each time), this will be my first Camp Nano. I'm writing a (planned novella) calling it "Week-long." It's set in story time after the completion of Vala's Story, so I won't be sharing any excerpts from it as most will be surprise killers from the series. However, my editor is working away at "Gates of the Garden: Book Two" so I'm hoping I'll have that for you all to read. Please do remember that I have written a series and you will need to read "Out of the Night: Book One" before you read "Gates..." to understand the story. Go to the "My Books" page for purchasing information- print, Kindle, and Nook editions.

It's been awhile since I talked about my 6 days of the week posting schedule, to help me get posting to happen. With putting my dog to sleep the beginning of this month, I've been totally off. In these days leading up to Camp Nano, I want to focus hard on filling in the schedule, giving you a bunch of on topic things to read. Of course, this means some debate especially on Tuesdays. My goal for that day has been to give my readers short stories written specifically for the blog. I'm not sure what I want to write about. I've enjoyed filling out various time periods both before and during "Out of the Night: Book One." I enjoyed writing the story in which The Queen taught Kaya about prostate massage using Ailin as the teaching tool. I'm still in the building stages with this blog though- I think of my friend Anastasia Vitsky'sblog, where she has dozens of people commenting every day. She can post asking for suggestions and have answers- I'm overjoyed if one person comments on a blog post. I'd like to ask you all "What topic, theme, kink etc I should write a short story on?" but I can't trust that I'll get something- not saying that I wouldn't try to write a short if someone posted a suggestion in the comments today :D

oh and I was thinking on identity- almost forgot this one. I sometimes struggle with whether or not I should promote a blog post in this LGBT writers and readers group I'm in on Facebook. As I said it this weekend, what's a "queer identified, polyamory living, married and committed to a cisgender male in a D/s relationship supposed to do at a LGBT gathering?"

Okay, I'm done wandering for the moment. Time to post this and go see about waking my Master. Yes, a third using is my goal :)

Thursday, June 13, 2013

MJ visits again- this time with an intense scene of pussy shaving & punching

Well you had to know I'd invite MJ back after that first scene she shared with us :D. Read her first scene here. All I can say is wow!

How about I talk about some rockin’ sex and some BDSM, too. This is the most intense scene I had just with R and like I said, I had major subdrop many hours later, but before that happened, I savored how sore my poor pussy felt. He said to me the next day that he loves pussies and he thinks that mine is exceptional and the fact that I let him do whatever he wants to it makes him very happy. So...it went like this (cue music and wavy camera shot)

I already knew that Sunday morning sometime after brunch, R was going to shave my pussy – not clean, mind you as I’ve been growing out my pubic hair, much to my chagrin – but he was going to shape it the way that he likes. He threatened to use a straight razor and tried to make me believe that he brought one, but in the end, it was a really large and very sharp 8” chef’s knife. The scene began with me preparing my chair for him to his specifications: plastic bag over the couch cushions, a sheet then towels; I brought him a bowl of warm water, my razor with a new blade; the knife and shaving cream.

He started by binding me to the chair. He first tied my hands up and over my head so I would be leaning on them – I love this position – gets me into rope space right away. He then had me slide down in the chair to where my pussy was just at the end of the cushion and spread my legs wide so he could tie them to the arms of the chair. He bound my ankles and lower leg to my upper leg before having spreading me wide; I’d never felt so vulnerable before. By this point, I had started to breathe heavily and had gotten flush. “Are you ok, mj?” “Yes, Sir. I’m good.” I could feel my eyelids flutter open and closed; they became unfocused as he continued to bind my other leg. I was left with my legs spread eagle with my knees up, leaning on my hands.

He moved on to touching my pussy very lightly; playing with the hair and my labia; opening me up so he could look at me – he touched my slit to see how wet I was already. He looked into my eyes and asked again, “You doing ok, mj” A little breathy, I said, “Yes, Sir. I’m great.” He laughed a little and picked up the big knife. He ran the duller part of the blade through my pussy, teasing me. He then hit me with the flat of the knife and I shivered and let out a deep sigh; knives had become one of my favorite kinks. “Breathe, mj. You nervous?” He said as he leaned over me with the knifepoint just entering me. I looked him in the eyes and said, “I trust you, Sir.” He smiled and called me a good girl. I remember closing my eyes and sighing deeply again and when I opened them, he was still staring at me. He gave me an evil grin and then used the knife to cut some pubic hair with it and then put it down.

He kneeled down on a pillow in front of me and blew on my pussy. I groaned and tried to move but I was pinned down quite effectively. “Oh, no you don’t, mj” I smiled and he wiped his fingers through my pussy again and his finger came up wet with my juices. He put his finger into my mouth and sucked it in just like I’d do to his cock. I licked around his finger until it was clean. That earned me another “good girl.” He set himself to the task of shaving me and it was the most erotic thing I had ever done. He put shaving cream all around the outside of my pussy and over my pubic bone and then carefully began to shave me.

Every now and again, he’d just barely touch my clit with the razor or his finger. At one point, he woke me up out of my stupor, by grabbing my clit and rolling it around in his wet, shaving cream covered fingers. I moaned and tried to move again, but was stopped with a sharp smack to my pussy. I yelped then groaned some more. He kept working on my pussy until he seemed satisfied. He wiped me down and then asked A for her opinion. She had been sitting directly across from me reading a book while this was going. She stood up, walked over, and made a few comments, but I really wasn’t aware of their conversation. I had sunk into a blissful state of subspace and was almost completely out of it. The only thing that I tried to do was telegraph with my eyes that I didn’t want her involved. He handed her the razor, but as she was looking at an area to shave – he took it back from her and made some last minute passes. Then, out of nowhere, he hit my pussy hard. I screeched and my hips strained against the rope. He continued to slap me hard and I started screaming and gasping for air.

R smacks me again but it feels different. Harder, more of a thud instead of a crack-type sound. I realize it as I open my eyes and look up at him…he punched my pussy and I almost come right then. “Like that?” “Ohmygod, Sir. Please! More!” I see him pull his arm back a bit and thump! I gasp and scream in earnest. I’m trying to close my legs, but after each punch, I open them again asking for more. He punches me again – like rabbit punches – pop, pop, pop, pop. He stops and I’m breathing heavily; sweat pouring off of me. He leans over and I flinch as he laughs his evil laugh. “Had enough, mj?”I look back at him with an equally evil smile and pant out, “No, Sir. More please!” He crouches down in front of me and bites my inner thigh and I howl in pain; he follows it with licking my sopping wet pussy. I’m saying something; maybe I’m begging; I have no idea. All I can feel is my pussy and his hot mouth and tongue on me.

Before I know it, he has stood up again and starts to punch me – hard and fast. By now, I’ve slipped down in the chair – the ropes have slid on my wet skin, allowing more movement. He stops and tightens one leg back down and begins to taunt and tease me. I’m in heaven, so far into subspace; I feel higher than any I ever felt on the myriad of drugs I put into my system years ago. He punches and I smile, no it’s a shit-eating grin. He punches again and I try to escape again, trying to wrench my legs together and then opening them up. I feel like I could go on like this forever. I’m only feeling my pussy, then his fist. My pussy. His fist. . He stops again and leans over, “Are you done yet, mj?” “No, Sir!” I whine. “Yeah, you’re done.” “No, Sir. I can do more. I can keep going.” “I know you can, mj. But, you’re done for now.” He starts to untie my legs and I stare at my leg and the indentation that the rope made. That leg is released and I groan as I lower it. He does the other leg; I stare at the pretty design on my leg and then lower it with a creek. I’m now slouched all the way down in the chair; how I don’t fall off is a mystery to me. I’m still breathing hard and I can’t move.

I don’t remember how I sat up to let him untie my arms and hands; all I know is that I’m now slouched down in the seat again with my eyes closed – happily spinning around. “How’s your pussy feel?” I touch myself, my clit, labia, slit and pubic bone while he watches. “I think I’m ok, Sir. But, I have no idea!” I start to laugh and giggle – my usual subspace reaction, except I’m not usually feeling so physically strung out. I feel boneless and floaty. “What’s so funny, mj?” He says with a smile in his voice – my eyes are closed, so all I hear is the smile. “Well, Sir. You were just punching my pussy.” He laughs. “Yes, mj. I was punching your lovely pussy. I knew you would love it and could take it.” I purr like a kitten at his praise, “Yes, Sir. You were right. I certainly could take it.”

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Raven McAllan visits my blog to talk about her book "Master"

When I began to wrote Master, I had no idea it was going to be such a roller coaster ride for them or me. What I thought was going to be a straightforward short story about lost love, turned out to be nothing like it. The more the story unfolded, the more I learned the more I was pulled in. I knew I couldn't leave it as a quick light read. It was more complex.
Did I succeed in doing Caden and Anna's story Justice? I hope so, but I don't know. I gave it my all. I cried, got all hot and bothered, and at times wondered if I'd get a HEA, or even a HFN…
Whether we all—myself, Caden, Anna and those who helped them—succeeded will depend on you the readers. We gave it our best shot.
Here's the blurb…
Caden McCourt did not expect to find his estranged wife Diana at a BDSM club. When he does, the renowned Master is determined to claim back his errant wife.
 When Diana left him fifteen years prior, she lost a part of herself. Seeing Cade again throws her into a tail spin.
She cannot be the sub he needs, but she can't walk away either. When she's challenged by Cade to face her demons, her old nightmares resurface. Can they overcome the chasm between them, or are the nightmares simply too strong?

And a wee tease…

"Here's the details of the guy I was telling you about." Linsey waved the document in her hand. "It's a real coup getting him to agree to guest here, I tell you. Evidently, it’s a rare occurrence when he guests. He'll be here in a day or so to look round." She handed the slim file to Anna, who took it and started to read the typed pages. The name jumped out at Anna and spots floated in front of her eyes. There was a strange ringing noise in her ears; her pulse raced, and her skin went clammy.
Oh hell, don't let me faint. Not here, not now. Let me tell her. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't form the words. A week, wavery croak was the best she could manage. Anna began to hyperventilate, and for the life of her couldn't stop.
"Anna, what's wrong?" Linsey pushed Anna's head down. "Take deep breaths, come on now, you're fine."
Am I? I'm not so sure. However, Anna did as Linsey told her and gradually the ringing disappeared, and her vision cleared. She gulped in air and wiped her forehead on the tissue Linsey handed to her.
"Don't move." Linsey left the office. Anna couldn't have moved if she tried. Her legs felt like jelly, and pins and needles bombarded her skin like tiny hailstones. Linsey re-entered the room and passed Anna a glass of water. "Drink it slowly and tell me what brought that on. Are you pregnant? Am I going to have to try to knit booties and have coal around for you to eat?"
That made Anna smile, albeit a somewhat small grin. "Not a snowball in hell’s chance of that. No, it's just you okayed this guy." She handed the form back, hoping her hands didn't shake.
Linsey scanned the form. "Yeah? Well, what's not to accept? I'm really over the moon with this. He's a well-respected Dom. Great form, even better credentials, and all his subs rave about him. We're honored to get him. He's very picky where he demonstrates and only does a couple of guest nights a year. He has the choice of anywhere in the world to go, and he chose to come here. I was gobsmacked, I tell you. We'd have them queuing to the border to get in if we advertised. What a coup. So, as I said, what’s not to accept? I should be genuflecting all the way to his base and back again."
Now how could she answer that?
With the truth.

Buy links…

If you're like me you like a bit of gen on the author, here we go…
Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she's strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.
Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

You can find out more about Raven here…

Friday, June 7, 2013

Lynn Richards visits to talk about BDSM and her book

First let me say how happy we are to be here and for Joelle giving us a chance to talk, pimp our book and have some fun. No, that was not a typo, Lynn Richards is the pseudonym for two best friends who write erotica romance. Our experience with BDSM is, sadly to say, all in our imagination. When we decided to put these elements into some of our novels, we, of course, had to do some research (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). Research being one of the major perks of writing erotica romance or romance of any kind. Our research, also sadly to say was done all on the internet. We went to site after site, after site… getting inspired (and aroused!). It wasn’t until we came upon an article about why the theme of BDSM was bursting forth in all romance genres and why women had suddenly embraced the thought of BDSM that we found the angle we wanted for our story, Bought, Branded and Bound - CONTROL.

We’re not sure if this article was written by a man or a woman, but it was told from a man’s point of view. His thoughts of why a woman wanted to be controlled in the bedroom. Now we all know that what men say and what they feel are often two different things and we don’t know if his theory is correct because we do not practice the lifestyle, but we do know those thoughts and insights struck a chord deep inside, and that the BDSM themes in romance and erotica are nothing new, just different. It comes down to the same thing – women want to lose control. More importantly, they want a man who is willing to take control. Heard the term alpha male anyone?

Women are constantly being asked to control situations: calling a plumber when the toilet leaks, breaking up a fight between two children, making sure the report gets turned in on time at work. When can a woman just be? Rarely ever. The article described how he would order his partner to kneel in the middle of the bed, a blindfold on, hands above her head. While he took control. She was not submitting to him, she was trusting him. Trusting him to touch her, pleasure her, see to her every want and need. Control her. Control her pleasure.

You might say what’s in it for him? We sometimes forget what fragile egos men really have and their need to be needed. What better way for a woman to show her love and desire for a man than to put herself completely in his hands, and trust that he will bring her fulfillment.

Those were the feelings we wanted to bring out in our series, Bought, Branded and Bound. A man who needs to control and a woman who trusts him completely.

Any assumptions made about the BDSM lifestyle are based on our very limited knowledge of the lifestyle. We applaud anyone who embraces a lifestyle that makes them happy and fulfilled.



Macy Trent was a chubby girl but that didn't mean she obeyed anybody's rules but her own. That is, until her drop-dead gorgeous boss blackmailed her into submitting to his will. She agrees to spend the weekend with Logan and obey his every command.

Twenty four hours later…Oh my God what have I done?

That’s Macy first thought upon waking and finding herself in Logan Quinn’s bed. As memories of the night before – and her wanton behavior – come flooding back, Macy realizes last night wasn’t her biggest regret, it was falling in love with her drop dead gorgeous boss.

Logan’s curvy assistant is sarcastic, willful, and deliberately disobedient and he’s had enough of her attitude. He knows the only way to get her out of his system is to make her submit. He also knows being a Dom is all about maintaining control. So why does his curvy secretary make him want to break his every rule?

Come join Logan and Macy on their incredibly erotic journey and find out what happens when a good little submissive makes her dominant lose control…

WARNING: For mature audiences only - contains elements of discipline, submission, dominance, hot sex and . . . romance

All three parts are available on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords and Kobo


“Again, Macy, why are you being punished?”

Macy was sitting on the end of the bed like a good submissive when Logan entered the bedroom almost an hour later. Luckily he hadn’t finished sooner. She’d taken a quick shower before donning one of his dress shirts and even answered a text from her sister.

“Because I put two sugars in your coffee instead of three.”

“Did you do that deliberately, Miss Trent? You have made coffee for me almost every day since you’ve been in my employ. And you have put one cube of sugar in my coffee each time. Why forget today?”

He stood there, watching her, his eyes flashing with fire. She didn’t know if it was anger or desire. She hoped it was desire.

“Do you know why I think you forgot, Miss Trent?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

“I think you want to be punished. You want to feel the heat of my hand on your backside. You want to see how much you can tolerate before using your safe word, don’t you, Macy?”

He stepped back and pulled the t-shirt over his head. Next he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajamas and let them slide to the floor. He wore no socks or shoes. Or underwear.

He walked over to the sitting area and placed one of the high-backed chairs in front of the mirrored closets. Taking a seat he motioned her over. “Come, stand in front of me the way you did last night.”

Macy complied, stepping in front of the chair with her back to him. She could feel her blood thrumming through her body. Even though she couldn’t comprehend the satisfaction to be had from spanking—yet—she was excited. Aroused at the thought of having Logan’s hands on her again.

Would she ever get enough of this man?

He reached out, his hands going under the tail of her shirt to trace the shape of her ass. His hands were warm, his touch firm as he stroked her soft flesh, making her tremble.

“Do you like that, Macy?”

Her breathing hitched. His touch was like a narcotic. One simple stroke and she’d do anything to have more. “Yes.”

“Unbutton my shirt.”

As soon as she’d undone the last button, he was tugging her down across his lap, her torso resting on the large curved arm of the chair. The fingers of one hand threaded through her hair, pulling the errant strands away from her face. Suddenly, she could see them in the mirror. He was watching her. Gauging her reaction.

“I want you to watch me spank you, Miss Trent,” he murmured. This was it. The thought both frightened and aroused her.

Macy watched his face, the brooding, hungry look—like a starving man offered a feast, yet afraid it was going to be snatched away before he got a taste. Fascinated by his expression as he stared raptly at her plump cheeks, she missed the rise of his hand.


Lynn Richards is actually the pseudonym chosen by two best friends who started writing together back when they were both young and idealistic. Though no longer exactly young, we're still best friends and still pretty idealistic. We enjoy reading (and writing) romances ranging from sweet and pure, to spicy hot and erotic. We love hearing from our readers. Please E-mail us at lynn.richardsromance@yahoo.com and let us know what kind of reads you like and what you'd like to see from Lynn Richards in the future. And thanks for taking time to read Lynn Richards’ romances!

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Beauty and the Wolf
Bedded by the Best Man
Bought by the Texas Billionaire
Branded by the Texas Billionaire
Bound by the Texas Billionaire
Delighting Daisy
Leader of the Pack
Pleasuring Tara
Seduced by the Italian
Sex by the Numbers
Taken by Force
Tempting the Texas Tycoon
Under His Control
Zoey’s Christmas Surprise

Thursday, June 6, 2013

My friend MJ visits to tell us all about deepthroating and strap-on using... on her!

First, I want to thank Joelle for asking me to be a guest on her blog. My name is mj – well, that’s my scene name, but because the scene and lifestyle have become a significant portion of my life and most of my friends and acquaintances are also part of it, it has become my name. Even the friends I have that have made it out of the dungeon and into other parts of my life still call me mj. It’s a name I love because it represents the transformation that I underwent from a kinky, vanilla girl who didn’t know what was missing in her life, to a kinky sub who found what she was looking for.

Now – I’m no writer, but I love to write – always have. When I started playing at parties and events, I also began to write journal entries to show my online writer friends that I had become friends with. As time went on, they became less reports of what happened at the dungeon last night, to sexy stories that I hope to string together for a book one day. I get loads of encouragement from these writer friends to keep writing, as well as comments about how the scene was so hot they had to get a fan to cool off! I’ve even shown some entries to my real life friends, especially the Dom that I have been playing with for the last 10 months.

Here is part of a scene that happened a few months ago. Some of the stories are dreamily erotic and some are raunchy. I picked this for the post it is of the raunchy variety and thought as Joelle's readers, you would enjoy it. A quick setup: I am in a poly triad with my sometimes Dom, R, and his sub, A. They have been together for almost 2 years and I’m their “first addition” to their dynamic. It started with R and I doing a scene together, finding that we had an amazing connection and, well, it went from there. That’s a story all its own, but this little event happened when we were 6 months into what we like to call “the blind leading the blind” BDSM/poly sexy times.

How to describe it? It was my first time doing anything like this and this was my crazy idea. One afternoon when the three of us were fucking, I got this urge to fuck A with a strap-on. That was all well and good, R said when I told him, but "I want to watch her fuck you, I have some wicked plans.” R got that look that says what out, mj, you’re in for something new and you’ll never guess what he will be adding to a simple fucking with a strap-on.

A purchased a cute, pink strap-on made of webbing and I added my favorite dildo. R had me lie down on the bed with my legs over the edge with my pussy right up at the edge. He handed her the lube and told me to lube up the dildo and my pussy. He moved her closer to the bed and pushed her forward to he could slide the dildo inside of me.

Now, R puts himself over me in the 69 position and sticks his cock right in my mouth. Unlike A, I can deep throat like a freakin’ sex worker. I actually took a class on it at TESfest last summer. It was taught by a porn star – got lots of pointers. Anyway – back to the action - R starts to direct A in the art of fucking mj and she starts to get into a groove. R moves forward on me and I lose contact with cock; then I hear A shriek. I was like what was that? R had bitten A’s nipple and I was like – that’s all well and good, but please give me back your cock. Pushy, right? But, what doesn’t want to hear that shit?

He puts himself back in my mouth and while A is ravaging my pussy, I am going to town on R’s cock. He’s actually giving feedback: something he rarely does unless he’s about to cum. In my sex-induced haze, I’m feeling all proud of myself and shit and take him all the way down my throat. I almost gagged, but used what I learned in class to breathe threw it. Well, breathing was becoming an optional occurrence, but I was able to open my mouth wider to get some air. R will be the first one to admit that he doesn’t have the biggest cock in the world, but that makes it perfect for deep throating because it’s long enough, but narrow enough to breathe around if I really have to. Just for clarification, he doesn’t have a thing cock; I have a big fucking mouth. I’m sure I won’t hear any arguments from you all.

I feel the bed shifting and think, “crap! The implements that R used to torture my pussy are still on the bed. OMG, what else is he going to do with my poor pussy?” I’ll give the deets on the noontime pussy beating later. Suffice it to say, I was already a bit sore on the outside thanks to getting a good, solid pussy whooping. All of a sudden, I feel leather on my leg and then a thwack! His belt lands right on my clit and labia. He says, “nice benny to the strap on? I can beat mj’s pussy without landing some instrument of destruction on some guy’s poor dick.” I crack up around his cock and almost gag again. Then, *deep inhale* I hit the side of his leg for almost making me gag. It’s accompanied by a garbled, “Hey!”

He tells A to stop for a sec and twists on me and I have to release his cock again. “You didn’t just hit me, did you, mj?” All meek and shit, I say, “um, no, Sir” “Were you tapping out? Did you want my cock out of your mouth?” “Um, no, Sir. It was just that you almost made me gag cuz I was laughing.” “So, you’re saying you don’t want to laugh?” I feel like I’m getting closer to walking off a bridge willingly, but I also know he’s not very serious about this…I hope. “A, go back to fucking her, but first hand me the bat.” Don’t worry, friends, it wasn’t a full size bat! It was one of these mini jobbers made out of wood. I open my mouth to say something and he gives me the Dom look of death. I smile as pretty as I can and open my mouth to receive his cock.

A goes back to fucking me but good and R starts hitting me with the bat. When he did this to me before, I was able to close my legs and roll away from him or do that after being hit. Clearly, I’m going nowhere. “Hey, mj” “Yes, Sir?” “You know how I’m going to tie you up next time I beat your pussy because you wouldn’t stop squirming?” *gulp* “Yes, Sir” “This works just as good!” Smack, thwack, guttural groan, scream, fuuuuck that hurts! But, now I’m seconds from cumming, hard. A few more pass and I’m going to blow…”May I cum now, Sir, please, I’ll be good, promise..” “Oh, I know you’ll be good. But, what the fuck, you may cum. I love watching you do it. Go ahead.”

I explode so forcefully that he holds me down by my legs and shoves his cock deep in my mouth. He’s loving the vibrations that I’m making when I deep throat him again, but I know he won’t cum because he already told us he wants to be fucking us before he will cum. The man has such control over his cock; it’s an astounding and wonderful ability. Me, on the other, keep cumming like, like..I don’t know, but I keep going. After what seems like a while, R gets off of me and tells A to pull out. I lie there in an orgasm-induced haze until, R whispers in my ear, “It’s time to switch, mj. You ready to fuck An even harder.” I slowly open my eyes and look at him, suddenly full of energy. As I move to sit up, I say, “Well, Yes, Sir. I sure am…”

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Randi Alexander blog hop- promoting her book "Double Her Fantasy" and giving away prizes!

Free Book! Double Her Fantasy by Randi Alexander, and a Chance to Win a Sexy Nightshirt and Two Other Fun Prizes

Hi - I’m Randi Alexander, and I’ve got a couple fun things going on this week. My erotic menage romance is free at Amazon June 4 - 8. Published by The Wild Rose Press, it’s a hot and romantic story that I hope you’ll enjoy.

Drop by my website for multiple chances to win a cute nightshirt (sizes S - 3X) with my tagline printed on it, a big coffee mug, or a handy flask necklace. Click here to enter.

BOOK BLURB: At a comic book convention, artist Megan Shore is thrilled to meet action movie hunk Garret McGatlin. Usually reclusive, Megan flirts with the leading man of her sexual fantasies. He invites her to his suite for a drink, but when she arrives, his rancher brother Trey opens the door and unleashes Megan's cowboy fantasy. Both men pour on the charm, and she can't decide which of them she desires more.

The McGatlin brothers have shared women, but none of them were like Megan, irresistible and perfect for both of them. Working together, they execute a potent seduction. During a hot, amazing week, the three-way relationship becomes emotionally charged. When they're thrown into the media spotlight, Megan fears the exposure will trigger a past threat. Garrett and Trey need to prove they can keep Megan safe as well as happy and satisfied in their arms.

Available at Amazon.com: http://amzn.to/ZFyXI1

EXCERPT: Megan dropped her head lower, licking each of Garret's balls, sucking gently. His short, wiry hair tickled her lips and prodded into her tongue as she tasted him. Pressing her nose into the dip between the base of his cock and his scrotum, she inhaled the rich scent of his musk.

With a needy whine, she kissed a path back to the head and sucked his knob into her mouth, then quickly pressed down, taking him all the way in, down her throat, creating a suction that he'd have to notice.

Garret let out a shout as her lips reached the bottom of his cock and she swallowed, convulsing her throat around his plump head.

Trey jumped off the bed and stood behind her. He lifted her hips, setting her knees between Garret's legs, then he pushed them apart enough to ease his own knees between hers.

She glided her mouth slowly over Garret's cock, taking him deep, then shallow, then licking around his head and into his slit.

Trey's finger parted her pussy lips and carried her moisture up toward her ass. “Your little rosebud.” He touched her, circling and pressing.

The motion turned her excitement into frenzy. She'd never imagined how stimulating the touch of a man's finger on her anus could be. When she'd played there herself, it evoked nothing as spectacular as the pleasure Trey's finger stirred. Would he take her there?

“I need to be inside your pussy, first.” The snap of latex warned her that he meant immediately.

Adjusting the angle of her mouth's suction grip on Garret's cock, Megan arched her back, opening herself to tempt Trey inside her pussy.

* * * * * * * *
I hope you like Double Her Fantasy, and good luck in the contest!
"Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied"

Double Her Fantasy is free in digital format at Amazon

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Guest Blogger- Paloma Beck: "Holding Hope"

Holding Hope
Series: Seven Sin Sisters Series
Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance
Elements: Adult language/ Explicit Sex
Author: Paloma Beck
Publisher: Secret Cravings Publishing
Page Count: 40 pages

The seven Sinster sisters are entwined in a legacy originating back from the time of the Italian Wars in the 1500s. One by one, they’ll find their mates from the immortal Valendite Breeds and secure their place in history.

Lucas believed he was fated to live out a solitary existence. He devoted himself to the sole mission of protecting his family and his breed when the woman he thought to be his mate died right in front of his eyes. With only one fated mate, Lucas understood his life would be lived alone.

Until he held hope in his arms… Ella was a captive of his sworn enemy when he found her and immediately felt the connection. Lucas rescued her, nursed her back to health and cared for her. Now can he convince her to embrace her identity as one of the women of the Magdalena Circle? This might prove to me his most difficult mission yet.

  •         Lustful Cravings, Seven Sin Sisters, book one (8/2012)
  •          Eternal Envy, Seven Sin Sisters, book two (10/ 2012)
  •          Holiday Gem, Seven Sin Sisters, book three (12/2012)
  •          Vanished Pride, Seven Sin Sisters, book four (2/2013)
  •          Holding Hope, Seven Sin Sisters, novella (5/2013)
  •          Frozen Fury, Seven Sin Sisters, book five (anticipated 6/2013)

It’s a Free Read!


Lucas held the most precious thing in his arms, something he thought he’d never have in his many years. Once, just once before, had he allowed himself to hope but it hadn’t been meant to be. Martha had died before he could claim her but he’d been certain at the time that she was his mate. Could it be he was wrong? He’d lived years believing he’d lost his only chance at love, his one true mate. Now, holding Ella in his arms, Lucas understood Martha hadn’t been his mate after all. You couldn’t have two mates –two people perfect for you- and with all certainty, every fiber of his being assured him that he was holding his mate in his arms at this very moment.

He looked down at Ella. She appeared so young; he wondered how old she was. He knew nothing about her and still his heart beat only for her now. Her pale skin was soft under his calloused fingers. He longed to stroke his fingers through her short blond hair but didn’t want to disturb her. She remained limp and still but he took solace in knowing she was calmer now. Her cinnamon brown eyes were closed again. He’d nearly broken down when those precious eyes looked up at him, first afraid and then hopeful. They’d been filled with hope, with such faith and a trust he didn’t deserve.

His gut clenched with the knowledge that he’d claimed this magnificent woman without her consent. Would she understand he had no choice? She was so weak and seemed so vulnerable. He’d held her the entire flight back to the United States, hadn’t let anyone so much as touch her. When Donovan, the TEU’s medic, tried to help, Lucas fought back his growls while he refused his help.

“She needs more blood,” Donovan explained. “I can hear her heartbeat fading again.”

Lucas heard his brother-in-arms but couldn’t reconcile himself to what needed to be done.

“Lucas, listen to me,” Donovan raised his voice as he touched Lucas’s shoulder. “Since she’s a woman of the Magdalena Circle, our blood can sustain her through her injuries. I gave her a few drops of my blood while we were being held. Let me give her a few more.”

“No,” Lucas raised his voice to match Donovan and showed his sharp teeth, two actions he’d never before taken against one of his brothers-in-arms. Shame immediately rushed through him. “I apologize, Van, but no more. She will take from me alone.” Lucas knew the few drops Van had given her wouldn’t do any harm. Since he wasn’t her natural mate, it had no effect aside from sustaining her health during her healing but he still couldn’t allow it.

Understanding swept over Donovan as he backed away and nodded. “You’ll need to at least give her a few drops until she’s well enough to feed fully.” Donovan pulled the curtain and left them alone.

Silence reigned over them as Lucas sat holding his mate, holding his hope in the future.

“I’m so very sorry, my precious, I can’t bear to see you like this. I must feed you and make you well.” Lucas’s voice broke as he pulled Ella closer against him. He fought to control his emotions, anger and frustration raging through him. He’d given up searching for a mate because he’d believed she had died. Had he not been so foolish, Ella may not have ended up held captive by Nassir and his men. What hell had she gone through?


Paloma Beck is a Romance Author living a life of contradiction... she's a happily married carpooling mom writing erotic romance. It's almost naughty! Paloma writes in both the Contemporary and Paranormal realms, journaling the stories her characters tell her, and they are anything but PG. She dabbles in vampires, witches, menage, spanking and bdsm - all in her books, of course. Paloma believes a daily dose of espresso and a good book make any day better.
Talk to Paloma on any of these sites:
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