Holy Moly! And Kinkentine

Oh my gods! You have GOT to see the end-of-day position for Tied to the Beat! They are fantastic. I have never had a book do so well and I am quivering with excitement.

Check it out!

Look at that! The Highland Wolves books are on the charts but we’re talking in the thousands. Thanks to all the Canucks who are supporting us! Now we just need to get those international numbers up (it’s not even on the charts in the UK! Get buying, my friends!).

All you have to do is change the numbers in the links you’re going to click from .ca to .com or .co.uk or whatever your dot may be. I’ll give you the links again:

WORTH THE RISK by (Crystal St Clair writing as) Crystal Lynn & Iain Shaw, Author vol1

BOUND BY YOU by Claudia Stevens vol2

SECOND CHANCE PERSUASION by Simone Evans, Author vol3

KEEPING HIS KITTEN by Rexi Lake vol4

TIED TO THE BEAT by Catherine Bowman vol5

JOIN THE LP GROUP: Leather Persuasion Series – Erotic Readers Book Club

Trust me, they’re worth the read! We aim to try to portray what BDSM is really like and have fun doing it.

Now, for Kinkentine! Today’s prompt: Simultaneous Orgasms | Forced orgasm | Dubious/Non-Consent

I think I may have rolled them all into one. Let’s find out! 😉 (Remember! It’s all first draft.)

Simultaneous Orgasms | Forced orgasm | Dubious/Non-Consent

He struggled in his bonds, wondering just how he got there in the first place. Was it the drink she’d brought him at the bar?  He hardly knew the woman.  Met her online, talked to her for almost three months. Some serious hot and heavy conversations; his cock twitched at the memories and he scowled. He’d agreed to meet because she’d promised him an hourglass figure, large breasts and an eager lover.

That wasn’t what he’d gotten.

Exactly…

She was an hourglass.  It was just one that held half a ton of sand.

He had nothing against larger people, he just preferred women who worked out and looked like it.

His cock, which had been half hard at the thought of this woman, this Sasha, deflated immediately. She’d had lipstick on her front tooth, for God’s sake. He’d only stayed for a drink because it was polite.

Now… Now he was in a darkened room, on his back with his arms tied spread out and anchored to a headboard. His legs were spread-eagled, too, and there was a large pillow under his hips, thrusting them into the air.

She was kneeling three fingers into his ass, massaging his prostate and she’d already wrung one orgasm out of him. It was a cold, sticky mess on his belly. He had to admit: her mouth, long cleaned of lipstick, was pretty talented.

Was she?  Oh fuck.  He can’t do it again. He’s too sensitive.

He bucks his hips as her mouth heads for his cock and earns a hard slap on his right nipple when his pelvic bone connects with her chin.  In the next moment, he’s cursing himself for saying, “I am not a bastard, thank you very much; my parents were happily married when I was born.”

A handprint blooms on his thigh.

His cock deflates.

Her hand grabs it and starts vigorously stroking as her fingers…diddle…(it’s the only word he can think of) his prostate. Soon he’s hard again, despite the sandpaper of her palms. Doesn’t she moisturize? I thought all women did. The random thought pops in and out of his head like a bubble appearing out of the dish soap when you set it down.

Grunts escape him against his will. He can feel another orgasm building. The first one had almost hurt but he figured that was because he’d never had anyone poking around in his ass before. This one was hot and heavy and winding him up pretty tight.  He could feel it building in his balls and his lower back as well as right where her fingers were.

An area he refused to acknowledge at the moment.

Sounds of pleasure escaped him and he thrashed. He was actually starting to genuinely enjoy it. Maybe she wasn’t a half a ton.  Just not anorexically skeletal like the girls he thought he liked. He lifted his head and looked at her.

“Pleasingly plump,” he whispered. I can get behind that. His cock hardened further as his brain twisted that thought into a pretzel.  Oh, I wonder if she’ll let me.

She was nude. Her breasts hung below her as she bobbed up and down on his cock and the large, turgid nipples, dark pink and looking like they ached with need – they certainly did in his imagination – made his mouth water.

“Let me taste you,” he rasped just before the orgasm hit him. He yelled, body in a tight arc off the bed as he came in her mouth this time. He pumped into her mouth, filling her throat with as much of him as he had left.

There was more to produce?

She took her damn time drawing her mouth off him, licking him clean and making him gasp and twitch.  She pulled her fingers out of him, leaving him feeling oddly bereft, and ripped off the glove he’d had no idea she was wearing.

Then, oh bliss, she plopped one of those lovely nipples of his mouth.  He latched on, drawing it deep into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth and lashing it with his tongue as he sucked. She hung on to the headboard and stared down at him.

He stared into her eyes. Remarkable. Are they green?  It’s so hard to tell.  But look at those lashes. The shape of her eyes. The arc of her brows.  She’s really pretty. 

I’m an asshole.

He laved her nipple lovingly by way of apology and she pulled it out, replaced it with the other and allowed him to do the same to it. 

Then she pulled away all together.

He was shocked when she made him promise to lie still and said she trusted him to keep his word.

Shocked more when she undid his restraints then crawled back on the bed. She crawled up to his side, stared at him for a moment again and almost moved away.

“Wait, why are you hesitating?”

He listened then smiled. “You’re beautiful.  I was an asshole. Do it.”

Then he was being smothered by the best part of a woman.  He eagerly set to very enjoyable work. He was pleased to find that she was clean. She tasted like strawberries and honey.  Never understood the jokes about fish tacos. Good women are clean and sweet.

He had to put his arms around her thighs as he brought her to her first orgasm.  His face wet, he gently pushed her away a bit so he could catch a good breath and wipe his face a little on his arm.

“You taste good, Honey.”

He dove in again. And brought her to another. And another, until she was a quivering mess that couldn’t hold her up. 

He was surprised to find himself hard again. “Let me have you. Be inside you.”

She was off him in a flash. On her knees and elbows and looking at him over her shoulder.

He sat up. “Are you sure?” Her ass wiggle was all the invitation he needed.

“I…A condom?” He looked around as she spoke. “Yes, we have talked before… If you’re sure…”

At her word, he knelt behind her and grabbed his bare cock in his hand. He looked down at it.  It was no longer than seven inches, but it was almost as thick around as a coke can and it had always served him well.  Thick ridges and a well-cut head caressed and pulled at a woman’s inner muscles and he knew how to move to hit the g-spot with whichever stroke he chose.

He proved it to her.

She showed him how much she enjoyed it with almost a dozen orgasms.  It was the last one that got him.  He was so close, thrusting deep and hard, fast. Pelvis slapping ass, his balls hitting her labia with every slam into her.  Her fists were curled into the bedding, hair stuck to her back and a tangled mess around her face, as she thrust back to meet him.

Then her vaginal walls tightened around him, nearly crushing him, as things got hotter and wetter.

Her orgasm exploded all around him – around his cock, into the air as she screamed – and dragged him with her. His orgasm was wrenched from him and he growled as it started, ending with a shout, fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her tight against him.

“Holy shit,” he said as he pulled himself from her then looked for a towel to clean her up with. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

It was a lot of run to write. Especially to write the guy in the position of submission; I don’t usually do that. The next couple of days are interesting, too:

  • Lingerie | Collaring | Mind Control
  • Hatefucking/Angry Sex | Orgasm denial or edging | Nonhuman

They should be fun.

Have a great night. Love you all!

Muah!

Of the Leather Persuasion

Good morning, everyone!

I know, it’s a terrible shock to see me pop up in your email. “Catherine actually wrote a blog? What the f…?” I know, I get it; it’s been thirteen months since I’ve written one.

In those thirteen months, though, life has been busy.

I have to say, I’ve lost my hermit status. There are actually new people in my life! We have a new friend name Paul. He’s a Witch, he’s gay, he’s a Drag Queen, he’s brilliant at throwing shade (he’s fierce!) and he is


There is also G, M’s best friend, who is becoming my best male friend, outside of M. He is a Dom, a wonderful man, and brilliant.

My son got engaged!

This is my favourite photo from that day.

My daughter got accepted to her exchange program and is spending this school year in England. She’s thrilled. I’m thrilled. I miss her. She comes home for the holidays in a few days.

They all do. I’m looking forward to it. Boykid has been in Australia this past month. I know Girl-in-law has missed him fiercely.

What else has happened… hmm… OH! I did the MS Ride! I did the entire first day, which ended up being around 85km. I cried, I quit, I got back on, and we were the last team in. Just dead last.

That night I had a fever of 102*F, way out of it with fever and pain. The next morning, I had a fever, still, a degree or so lower. M & G insisted I get on the shuttle to go two stops up and avoid the hills so I went to the shuttle stop (M dropped me off with my bike) and everyone there was like, “A fever? No, no no, you need to go to the third stop. Besides, there’s only one hill from there.” So I did 25km from there.

It wasn’t the full ride but I crossed the finish line and did what I said I was going to do.

This year, I have Zwift and will be doing better indoor training (ankle damage notwithstanding) and I will do more next year. Maybe the whole ride. It’s just that the second day starts on hills like this:

Super steep in the middle of the city, not the country.

I’m working on it, though.

Has anything else happened? M’s divorce is final! I don’t remember anything else offhand, but that’s because I’m tired and achy. My ankle is in an Aircast boot right now because there is tendon damage.

I am back today because I am part of a new series! Of the Leather Persuasuion is a series dedicated to trying to promote a healthy view of BDSM.

Here is the series blurb:

This Valentine’s Day the Leather Persuasion Resort is the exotic obsession among singles or couples of the BDSM lifestyle on a secluded island of Trunk Bay. Take the questionnaire and follow your guide, Lance Pierce, at the pier where you will experience the vacation of a lifetime. Meet your special someone or casual play partner! At the Leather Persuasion Resort, anything is possible.

Collect all 5 erotic stories in this brand new kink series of varying degrees of erotic romantic heat. Dip your toes into the sand with the characters, experiencing the exclusive erotic adventures that will forever be memorable.

It should be a lot of fun! We have Crystal Lynn and Edward Blackwood collaborating on Worth the Risk for Book 1. You can pre-order here

Book Two by Claudia Steven

Alivia Grant is finally getting a break from her stressful job and bound for a girl’s getaway with Penelope Vasquez, her best friend. Penelope has promised Alivia lots of fun, relaxation, and lots of hotties at the resort where they will be staying. Without another thought, Alivia packs her bags and boards a plane bound for an island retreat.

There’s only one thing that could ruin Alivia’s vacation. Penelope has kept a very big secret from Alivia about the resort. This luxurious resort isn’t something you see on t.v. This is the one of a kind Leather Persuasion Resort — a BDSM resort. Alivia has always wanted to explore the lifestyle of BDSM but has always been too scared to dive into it on her own.

Will this vacation be the push that Alivia needs to get out of her comfort zone and experience the world she has always dreamed of? Or will she be homebound before the vacation ever begins?

You can find her pre-order link here.

Book three brings us Simone Evans with Second Chance Persuasion.

Jannah and Nikolas Allen have been married for five years and trying for a baby for eight months, and in all that time, Jannah hadn’t shared one important fact about herself — she’d been a domme before meeting Nikolas on her first day at Lazarus Industries as a technical writer. Afraid to share her need for dominance with the straight-laced computer programmer, she pushed it deep down in favor of love.

But, now, Jannah is realizing something is missing in her marriage so she decided to take a trip to get her past desires out of her system once and for all. Her and Nikolas agreed to take separate ‘friends only’ vacations — giving them time apart, away from the stress of making a baby — the two separated at the airport uncertain about what their future will hold.

Will Jannah accept her true self and find the courage to tell her husband about herself when she returns from the Leather Persuasion Resort on Trunk Bay? Or, will her mysterious submissive throw a wrench in her plans?

Next up is Rexi Lake with book 4, Keeping His Kitten.

Her pre-order link is here.

The Kitten

Kelli has always been an explorer. Of marine life. As half owner of a wildlife rescue, she has spent a lot of time in the waters off Jubilee Harbor, Connecticut. An unexpected gift to visit the island of St. John gives her an opportunity to explore the reefs in the warmer waters of the Caribbean. What she doesn’t realize until she’s on her way is that the resort she’s been gifted an all-expenses-paid trip to isn’t just any resort. It’s a BDSM resort that caters to any kink imaginable. She’s had her fantasies, but she’s never acted on them. She thinks she can get away with simply booking some reef tours and snorkeling adventures, but the resort director sends her to Jake, a local bar owner and a VIP member of the resort.

The Master

Jake grew up on St. John’s Island and his bar Saints has thrived with the resort located on the next bay. As a member of Leather Persuasions and a St. John’s native, he gets the business when someone wants an excursion outside the resort. When he gets a call from a woman requesting a tour of the reefs, he never expects to discover someone whose unexplored curiosities are a perfect match to his own kinks. He’s played with guests before, but no one has ever sparked that need for more in him.

Will Kelli be the one to turn the tide? Can Jake convince her to enjoy a little playtime? Does he have what it takes to keep this kitten?

And then there’s mine:

Oh, wait, that’s right, you have to wait until the reveal this afternoon before you can find out what it is. 😉

I am doing a takeover of the Leather Persuasion Series – Erotic Readers Book Club on Facebook this afternoon starting at 2pm EST. (That’s Toronto, Canada time, -5hrs, GMT) While I’m there, I will be doing a Facebook Live chat about BDSM, namely SSC and RACK.

Those are Safe, Sane and Consensual and Risk Aware Consensual Kink. They are the way people should be behaving in the BDSM world and we’ll talk about what they are and why they’re important, plus any other topics that come up.

I will post again once my pre-order links are active and my book cover has been revealed. Have a wonderful day and I hope we see you at today’s takeover.

Muah!

An Awww Moment

The cover for HW2

The cover for HW2

 

Hello!

Are you melting today?  We’re melting today.  It’s GK’s first day of Grade 11.  And she has homework.  Very frustrating homework.  One question is:  You’ve discovered a new element: A=302, Z=119.  How many protons, neurons and electrons are there?

She bent a plastic pencil in half.   I read her textbook and I can’t tell her either.  Hopefully, her classmates will be able to.

Meanwhile, I recently finished the third edit on HW2.  I passed it on to a friend of mine who loves my writing but is brutally honest.  Always has been.  She has edited for me before.  I asked her to look for stupid errors that I’ve missed.  I haven’t looked at the results yet because I wanted to share the content of her return email.

I’m sorry this took me longer than I expected it to. But I am so happy to have been asked. I highlighted the changes I made in case you want to change things back and left notes at the end of each chapter. There is one exception, a joke I had to mention, couldn’t stop myself. Overall the story is wonderful, sexy and heartwarming. I cried when he proposed and when he was scared of her I cried with her, earning me some funny looks around here. simply put, I loved the book.

Isn’t that wonderful?   I love it when I can affect people like that.   THIS is why I write.  Why I wish more people could see my books.  Why I don’t understand people like the book stores who say “this isn’t our thing.”  What?  Evocative writing isn’t for you?  Why do you manage a store in the largest chain in Canada?

*coughs*  End rant.  Sorry.

I think what kitty wrote here is fantastic.  

Wait, I have to find the joke.

Found it!  Kitty is from Arizona, (USA), which, for those who don’t know, is a desert state.  When I was there, a Canadian from a humid province, I had to make the following joke myself, at least once.  (Probably more than once, knowing me. *laughs*)

The line from the story – where Anna, Liam and Chelle had just stepped into the first circle of Hell – is:  The heat took their breath away and, gasping, Anna managed to make an old North American joke, “At least it’s a dry heat.”  She wheezed out a laugh.

Kitty’s joke: “In my head I saw it continued …just like Arizona.” 

*grins*  There is a reason we’re friends.  

I’m off to make dinner now.  I had to share her praise with you.  I love it.

Have a grand evening (or day for you Aussies).

Muah!

 

Fiction Friday Week 28

Good afternoon!

I am nearing the end of the third edit of HW2 and I thought I’d share a little bit of it with you.  

This chapter of the book has the Four Claw Pack plotting to overthrow Prince Skeena, the vampire ruler of Glasgow.  Skeena is a bitch.  I’ve mentioned that in the blog before, I think. *laughs*

This bit here demonstrates that quite well.  

It also, perhaps, suggests that I’m a little bit twisted.  A little.  

Mostly though, Skeena’s a sadistic bitch.  

I am off to explore some things I’m excited about.

Enjoy!  

Muah!  

Skeena realized something was up when her food began to disappear.  They stopped kowtowing and started standing straighter just before they started refusing to come when summoned.  She called Sarah to her rooms. 

“Yes, my Prince?”  Sarah was a consummate actress.  She knew what was coming but she worked damn hard to make sure it never showed in her eyes or attitude.

“Why are the dogs and cats suddenly refusing to feed me?”

Fuck! thought Sarah.  Idiots!  Outwardly she shrugged.  “I have no idea, my Prince.  Perhaps the ones you have summoned do not have the blood to give and need fed and some rest?”  As soon as the question was out of her mouth she wanted to snatch it out of the air.  It was openly critical, not something the other took too well.

Skeena was on her in a flash.  She slammed Sarah against the wall, one hand on her throat, crushing her windpipe.  Snarling and ever paranoid, Skeena searched Sarah’s eyes.  “You have always been loyal to me, Sarah MacLean.  Do not make any mistakes now.”

Sarah was unable to keep the hatred out of her eyes and what was left of her voice.  “Your end is coming, you controlling cow.  Did you really think you could act this way forever?”  Her words were hoarse and nearly silent but she knew the Prince heard her well.

“Only one person has the ability to pull off a coup with any remote chance of success, my friend,” Skeena sneered the last word, “and that is you.”  Skeena released Sarah’s throat and Sarah dropped to her knees, coughing. 

Sarah struggled to get her breathing back in working order.  In the next moment she yelped in pain as Skeena’s foot connected with her spleen then her ribs.  Still, her ire was enough to make her grind out one last sentence.  “You’ll be ash before the night is out.  I pray I get the chance to do it myself.”

Skeena’s foot connected with Sarah’s jaw and as Sarah lay there, fighting the blackness threatening to take over her mind Skeena yelled for her guards.  Two entered the room, one loyal to the bone to the Prince and the other loyal to Sarah.  They both showed surprise at seeing Sarah on the floor, spitting out blood.  “Take this cunt down to my dungeon!  I’ll be done as soon as I change my clothes.”  Skeena paused.  “Wait!  Parade the traitor through the house first.  Let her be a warning”.

The guard loyal to Sarah reached her first and, with an internal wince, wrapped his fingers in her hair to pull her upright.  As Sarah’s hands flew up to grab his wrist he adjusted his grip so it only looked like he was pulling her solely by her hair.  Sarah’s grip on his wrist made her able to help him maintain the illusion.  Guard two, satisfied the first had things properly in hand, merely opened the door.  Neither of them said anything to the Prince, conditioned long ago never to speak in her presence.  She had said that didn’t want to hear voices of the peons in her home.

The two dragged Sarah through a series of corridors, past Wolves, a couple of Tigers and one Lion, they all looked on with wide eyes. More gathered to stare in shock as the guards took Sarah on a return trip.  One of the Tigers then discretely withdrew to find a phone.  She called Glynnis and relayed what she saw.

Finally, the guards came back to Skeena’s room.  Guard two moved a large trunk and pulled back a rug.  Hidden below the furnishings was a large trap door.  Guard Two opened it and Guard One, Jake, dragged Sarah down by her hair.

 In the dungeon, Sarah was strung up.  She was manacled wrist and ankle by Jake then Guard Two turned a crank set into the stone wall and Sarah’s arms were lifted above her head and stretched just to the point of pain, until she was standing on the tips of her toes.  Her clothes were cut from her by Jake, who did his best to convey that someone would save her without letting the other guard see it.  Sarah took a breath and sighed softly as she let her head droop.  Her hair fell forward to curtain her face and she mouthed, “It’s okay” at Jake.

He turned to Guard Two.  “She’s set, go let the Prince know.”

“She doesn’t want to hear from us.  She said she’d be down in a moment, we’ll leave it at that.”  He sneered at Jake like he knew that Jake’s loyalties were not quite where they should be.  Just then the door opened and both their mouths snapped shut.

Skeena was wearing a blood red gi and carrying a wooden case about thirty-two inches long by six wide.  She looked around the room.  There were a couple of small tables, one beside what looked like a dentist’s chair and one beside a four foot high stone altar.  “Move a table to sit in front of her.”

As Guard Two did her bidding Skeena shifted the case to under one arm and moved to a glass fronted cabinet with interior recessed lights.  Inside was a shelf of knives.  Curved ones, long ones, short ones, wide ones, narrow filleting ones.  There were double-edged and single-edged; ones for hunting, gutting, skinning and survival.  Skeena picked up one that sat alone under its own spotlight.

The Prince brought the knife and case over to the table and set them both down.  She opened the case, pulled out a cat-o’-nine whip and showed it to Skeena with a grin.  “It’s been a long time since I used this.”  She lifted the tails to Sarah’s line of vision.  Sarah was staring at the wall across from her but Skeena managed to make her focus for a brief moment on the whip.  Skeena cackled when Sarah shuddered.  The flogger was thirty inches long, six inches of that were simply the handle; the other twenty-four inches was comprised of the thin leather falls, also known as tails.

Each of the nine tails had pieces of razor sharp bone tied into it in random places, two to four pieces per tail.  The thing was designed not only to have a hell of an impact but to shred flesh.  And the Prince was planning on using it on Sarah.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?”  Skeena waited for an answer.  When none was forthcoming, she slapped Sarah across the facing, leaving a bright red imprint of her hand.  “It’s lovely.  Isn’t it.”

“Quite.  You really should feel it for yourself before you use it on anyone else.”  Sarah’s voice was hard.

Skeena was amused.  “But first, we’re going to indulge ourselves in a little blade play.  Playing with knives is so much fun, don’t you think?”

Sarah shrugged as best she could with her arms stretched over her head.  She liked to play a little rough in the bedroom – she liked her ass slapped when being fucked from behind or her nipples pinched hard.  Sometimes she liked having her mouth used without her having any control over it.  She liked teeth.  A lot.  But she did not hold with the level of Sadomasochism Skeena did.  Especially since a lot of the masochists Skeena played with were involuntary.  Skeena was starting to scare her but she was determined not to let it show.

Skeena laid the flogger down and picked up the knife.  It had a four inch handle with a double-sided grip.  The blade was nine inches long.  One side was a smooth, sharp edge.  It was straight until an inch or so to the tip where it swooped up.  The opposite side had a small scoop in it then a serrated edge started.  The blade was custom and Skeena had had the edge cut like a saw blade.  A saw’s cutting edge is set so that the teeth are set just off centre, alternating left and right.  She kept both edges sharp enough to slice a piece of paper, were one dropped onto it.

Sarah knew that blade.  She had seen what it could do and for the first time, fear crept into her eyes.

“Oh good,” Skeena drawled as she looked at Sarah.  “You remember this knife.  We’re going to play with it.”  She set the smooth edge against Sarah’s ribs, just under her arm and applied a small bit of pressure until the knife popped through the first layer of skin.  She pressed a little harder and drew the knife around to under Sarah’s breast in a wide arc.  Then, before Sarah could begin to feel the delayed pain such a sharp knife creates, Skeena flipped the knife around and dug the serrated edge into the new cut. 

Skeena sawed at the cut, tearing the edges of the flesh and digging until she hit bone.  She followed the new cut all the way around. 

Sarah ground her teeth together and clenched her fists.  It took all her willpower not to scream out. 

Skeena saw that as a challenge.

P.S  Apparently there’s a reason I do at least three edits.  I found the word ‘watching’ where it should have said ‘wanting’!

Fiction Friday Week 26

This blog is for those over the age of majority in your region.  While I normally post stuff I’d let my 15 y/o read THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE DAYS.  If you are under 18, go away.

Good morning!  

I’ve been absent, I know.  It happens. 🙂  

I have a number of pictures to share with you.  It’s a theme similar to this time last year – the flora around me. I can’t help it.  The blooms captivate me.

But this isn’t about that. 

I was worried that I had nothing to share with you.  I haven’t written anything in HW4 and there isn’t much research done this week because I’ve been doing other things.  I get distracted and then foomp nothing’s done.  

I’m working on it.  I have been pondering the story in the background.  I need to go back into the previous books and adjust her pregnancy.  I think cutting the gestation in half is bad.  It gives me no room to get anything done in book four.  How could she possibly hunt an evil witch if she’s A) heavily pregnant or B) a brand new mother of triplets?  

As I said, I thought at first that I had nothing to share today. Last Saturday morning, however, I got slapped with a short story.  It’s less than 1800 words and it’s erotic.  I have said in the past that I am an inspired writer and every now and then, stories just pour out of me, as was the case on Saturday.  

A funny little story came out of it too.  It is my habit to rise at sunrise (or close to it) and get on my laptop. I turn music on and put headphones in.  When The Boyfriend wakes up he texts me, “Good morning, girl.”  I usually get up and go into the bedroom.

That’s what happened Saturday.  He texted me and I automatically rose.  This time I unplugged my computer and took it with me.  I’m not entirely sure I stopped typing.  I sat on the bed.  *click click clackety click* 

“Writing?” he asks.

*Frankenstien grunt… click click clackety click*

He laughs.  “Yep, I guess so.”  He picked up his phone, opened a game, and waited me out. 

I wrote the entire thing in less than an hour.  It’s had a brief edit but that’s all.  I have no real idea what the trigger was just that this happened.  

I have a strange idea for a story – I want to write a yoga-kink story.  One where the sub/slave is doing Sun Salutation, for instance, and her Master is doing her.  Nipple weights, restraints (with mobility within the parameters of each movement), paddles, crops, etc.  That one will be fun to write. 😉

Enjoy the story and happy Friday!

Muah!

Suspension

 

She hung there, nude, on her toes, wrists in cuffs that wrapped around half her forearm, draped over the back of her hands and offered her a small bar across her palms that she could grip.  And gripping she was.  A hook held the cuffs together.  The hook was attached to a chain that snaked down from a firmly anchored hook in the ceiling. 

Her head was thrown back, breath escaped her in panted puffs.  Her skin was on fire and that fire had soaked into her blood.  The fire was in her groin.  Thick fluid coated her inner thighs, slicked her core and made her easy to toy with.  Her skin was pink and red, welted in places, though no bruises marred the creamy satin of her flesh. 

He hated bruises.  He had worked hard at learning how to combine pleasure with pain without leaving the ugliness of the purples, yellows and blues caused by broken blood vessels beneath the skin.  He loved the waterfall of copper and silver hair that flowed down her back.  He tapped the crop he held against his thigh and smiled with vicious pleasure as her head jerked up and she gasped.  He aimed, swung and tapped a particularly large welt.

A scream escaped her. 

A chuckle left him.  He knew that scream.  It was all need, carnal and animal.  He could smell the need on her.  The fear. She trusted him with her life, a gift he didn’t take lightly, but still, she was afraid.  Afraid, he thought, that he wouldn’t take her, that he wouldn’t make them one and thereby make them both whole.  Afraid, he thought too, that he would hurt her more and that he wouldn’t.

So he laid the crop down and stepped up to her, behind her, just close enough that he could feel the heat of her flesh on his bare chest.  Not so close that the iron need, locked behind the zipper of the leather jeans, the need that was his, could touch her.  He punished himself cruelly by waiting.  Someday, he thought, he would examine his need to punish himself.  For now, however, the anticipation was bittersweet and totally worth it. 

Please, she thought, please, please.  It was one of only two coherent words she could keep in her head.  The other was now.  She pushed back on her toes and succeeded in brushing her body against her.  Primal, primitive pleasure shot through her at the evidence of his own need shot through her and made her growl softly.  She’d discovered, as she’d grown into the woman she was, that with age came greater orgasms.  They were deeper, richer, tore her apart at a cellular level it seemed.  And she definitely knew how to appreciate them better.

He growled in return and stepped forward, pushing her back into place then forward, forcing her to stretch her arms as she stepped forward on her toes.  He knew the burn in her shoulders would need taken care of but right now, he didn’t care.  He wrapped his arms around her, dragged his hands up the softness of her belly and weighed her breasts in his hands.  He pinched the nipples tightly, pulling them away from her and lifting her breasts up. 

Her sound of pleasure turned to one of pain.  She had large breasts and gravity tugged on them hard, fighting the grip he had on her.  She squirmed, tried to push up further on her toes.  The pain was hot and bright red in her mind.  It took a long minute for her to understand this punishment but when she did she submitted, relaxed her body against him and gave herself up to his hands again.

Satisfied, he slowly let her breasts down and let go.  He relished the whimper she released as the blood rushed back into her nipples.  He grabbed her jaw and twisted her head to kiss her.  It was hard, fast and awkward.  Unsatisfied, with the taste of her on his lips, he moved around her.  He took possession of her jaw again and held her firm.  He fought with instinct and lightly brushed his lips over hers.

His lips were hers, no matter what he thought, she decided.  She loved the feel of them, the taste of him on her.  She waited, soft and pliant, and let him tease her.  She flicked her tongue out and swiped at his lips.  She almost smiled at his answering groan but the way he took her mouth in the next moment prevented it.

She just had to do it, didn’t she, he asked himself.  Just had to breach his control and try to take it from him.  He slanted his mouth over hers, forced her lips to part and branded her with his need for her.  And all it took was his hands to brush against her hips, to ghost around the curve of her ass, for her to take the hint and wrap her legs around his waist.  He knew that she’d gripped those little bars across her palms and put her weight on her arms until she’d settled around him. 

Still, he wasn’t happy.  He slid his hands up her arms and unhooked her.  There, that was right, he thought as her arms dropped around his neck.  He staggered, caught himself, then carried her to the bed.  He dropped them both down, catching his weight on his arms.  Seconds later he wrapped himself around her and continued the assault on her mouth even as she cried out in surprise and pain.

Oh damn it hurt when both of them landed on the welts on her back but she didn’t care.  She fought the restraints, struggled to be able to fulfill her need to touch him.  She growled and whimpered when all she could do was grab his hair and turn the kiss into an equal battleground.  They fought for supremacy, licking, teasing, biting, devouring.   Their need filled the room with sounds.

Finally he broke the kiss and disengaged her fingers from his hair.  He rose to his knees and stared down at her.  When she tried to rise to touch him, he put his hand on her chest and pushed her back.  He wanted to look.  Her hair was everywhere, spread across the pale blue pillowcases like fire.  Her eyes were wild with need, lust and love.  The expressions on her face alternated between need, lust, love and fury.  The fury amused him. He knew it was there because he wasn’t touching, wasn’t letting her touch. 

Because there was fury, he grabbed her wrists and forced her arms over her head.  He leaned over her, sighing at the feel of her mouth on his chest, and searched for the chain and hook he knew was attached to the headboard, buried behind the mattress.  When it rattled, she stilled then bucked against him, struggling to get her wrists out of his grip.

He merely chuckled, laid down on top of her to kiss her briefly then changed his position.  He straddled her legs, holding them closed.  She struggled, eyeing him warily.  He grinned, she fought not to grin back. Then he leaned forward and brushed his lips along her jaw.  She turned her head to give him access.  He tasted the sensitive spot behind her ear then slide his mouth down the column of her neck.  He set his teeth around her throat as her chin went up.

She laid there in total submission, limp and soft.  She let him know that she was his.  Then, as his mouth moved over her, lips and tongue soothing, teasing, tormenting, she writhed for him.  She cried out for him, twisting and wriggling.  And when he spread her legs, laid between him, she opened for him.  She welcomed the bruising grip on her hips that kept her from bucking and dislodging him as he tasted her thoroughly.  The heat built in her, swirling higher, brighter and hotter with each stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth.

He lifted his mouth and his eyes and watched as he pierced her with one finger then two.  She screamed a word as he curled those fingers and brushed against the tight bundle of nerves.  He refused her, brushed against it again. She wordlessly screamed her fury and need .  He teased again.

Tears rolled from her eyes as she fought to keep all that fire inside from exploding outward.  She screamed that word again.  She cried as he denied her, again.  She growled, helpless to stop it, as he slid his fingers from her grasping core only to plunge them back in. 

Finally, he gave his permission.  One word and then his mouth at the apex of her womanhood. 

Her body coiled tightly as she tried to let go.  She couldn’t force what she needed; she had to wait for it to come to her again.  Her breath lodged in her chest.  Then he stroked once more with his fingers, set his teeth around her and bit down lightly.  It was like a volcano erupting, hot, intense and totally encompassing.  The pleasure burst from her with a wrenching scream that tore her throat and a waterfall that almost drowned him.

He made her explode again, and again, and once last time before he slowly brought her down and moved back up her body to cover her once more.  He tucked one arm under her shoulder and use the other to stroke her face.  He whispered to her softly as she looked at him with eyes that didn’t see clearly.

She could feel him, smell herself on him.  She could feel him nudging at her core as he tenderly made sure she was alright.  She forced herself to focus on him because she needed him in her, needed them to be together, and she knew he would only enter her if she was with him. 

Tell me, he demanded.  Tell me you need me.

I need you.  Her voice was raw, ragged, soft, as she pressed her cheek against his hand.

You want me.  He pressed the words from her. 

I want you.  The desire blazed from her eyes.

You love me.  It wasn’t a question, he knew it as well as he knew his own name. 

I love you.  The truth of it was in every fiber of her being, in the way she breathed as she said it.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, opened herself to him again.

He got a grip, lined himself up, then let go.  He let go of his steely control and slammed into her.  He rose up and held himself pressed against her, pelvis to pelvis, root to core. 

Finally, they both thought.  Peace at last.

 

 

 

*girlie scream of excitement*

See?!  A good reason for the scream.

See?! A good reason for the scream.

I am totally stoked.  This is the announcement I mentioned a couple of weekends ago.  I had some technical issues – Createspace and I were just not getting along as far as the formatting goes – but I got them resolved and here you have it.  Lizendale, for sale.

Lizendale was up on Lulu many years ago but it was not the quality it should be.  I did not have a great experience with Lulu either so when the contract ended I was happy to take the book down and revamp it.  The book as a whole reads much better now.   The prologue is, still, a short story all on its own.  Meeting Irisi and Alexander is important to the rest of the story.  It is full of violence and love and eroticism, just like you’d expect from me.

Their daughter, Alexi, is a wonderful girl.  She has a gift with people, animals and plants alike.  Everything she pays attention to is happier.  Animals thrive, plants grow.  She is intelligent, compassionate, and always sunny.  She worries about her mother and loathes her father – and learns later just exactly why she should.  That loathing is the only dark spot in a girl that is otherwise, pure light. Magni, on the other hand, is barely contained violence.  He is a ruthless male, a hunter of evil and almost two centuries old when he first encounters Alexi.

Magni is Talos.  They are a step above humans in the evolutionary scale. They have great mastery over the energy that is in all things.  They can manipulate at will, from changing the temperature in a room to shifting molecules around to change their own shape or that of something else. In Magni’s world, one rumoured about but not quite known to most humans, the Talos are born with half a soul.  They are creatures of the light until they become 500 years old or so.   At that point, darkness starts creeping in, unless they have found the person holding the other half of their soul.  It comes to a point where they have to choose – end their lives or give into the darkness and become Winnigo. (Winnigo is a term I borrowed from Native American mythology.  As best I can remember from my research, it is a form of demon, inasmuch as that culture has demons.) Alexi is the other half of Magni.  His attraction to her is instant but he is forced to wait for five years before he can claim her.  As soon as he presents himself to her, she is smitten.  They quickly learn what love is, what that connection of souls means.  

And, almost as quickly, darkness finds them in the form of a Winnego named J’aret.  J’aret’s initial motivation is revenge but then he learns what Alexi is – the prophesied girl, the one who walks the line between human and Talos, born to be Mated to Talos.  The one who mates her will have the greatest power of all, able to rule human, Talos and Winnego alike.    The book is dark, violent, erotic, passionate and full of love, all at the same time.  Kind of like Sherrilyn Kenyon’s BDB series, IMO.  

You can find it here. For now.  It’ll be on Amazon soon and I will share the link for that as soon as it happens. I have to adjust the formatting to get it on Kindle but I’m already working on that. I will have a giveaway very soon too. How could I not? 😉

Have a great evening, folks!

Muah!

Fiction Friday Week 15… on Sunday

Good morning, folks.

Sorry about the delay for this week’s sampling.  Once again, I’m forced to blame it on chemicals scattering my brain.  Toxic exposures have been at a ridiculous volume this week.  This morning, my brain is a miasma of my usual intellect peeking  at me through a swirl of coloured fog.  It gets quickly swallowed up again so let’s see if I can get through this before I vanish once more into the haze.  

Yesterday was another of  my daughter’s dance competitions, this time in Chatham, Ontario.  It’s a lovely theater staffed by lovely people (except for this one surly usher, don’t know what was up her butt… maybe it was people squishing her between the door and the wall.  Of course, if she hadn’t hid behind the door she wouldn’t have been squished.) and it was less toxic than some places we have been but… it was still toxic, especially with all the people in it.

Her groups did well, though there were some mistakes in her Open group.  The Musical Theatre was near flawless, IMO.  

Today I am home and recovering.  

Thursday was therapy, shots and a bit of a runaround trying to get a prescription refilled.  It left me in much the same condition on Friday that I am today.  I totally spaced on the blog.  It did pop into my head at one point.  We were in the car and the thought flew out the window but some dark corner of my brain did start pondering and considering the matter.  

I didn’t get much writing done this past week so I’ve been trying to think of something to share with you.   I figured it out yesterday, while at the theater.  

GK and I were discussing the Highland Wolves books and got to talking about the people attending the wedding.  This conversation came about because I was writing on my phone.  Three of those people are Sarah MacLean and her fiances, Andre and Sebastian.  GK wanted to know why Sarah had two fiances and how that came about.  

That’s what I’ve decided to share with you, chapter one of HW3 – Sarah’s coronation and the proposal by Andre and Sebastian.  

You enjoy that, it’s lovely, and I am going to transcribe the paragraph I wrote into my phone and hope I remember the rest of what I meant to write.

Have a great Sunday!

Muah!  

(PS.  The edit isn’t perfect in the blog portion [and the chapter is a first draf] but my thinking is slipping away again so you’ll just have to deal with it. 😉 )

Chapter One

Present day, Glasgow

Liam Taggart and Anna Connor stood before the new Prince of Glasgow, Sarah MacLean; they were the last to speak to her in this coronation save Andre Whyte, Prince of Edinburgh.  It had been just over two weeks since the bloody coup that had overthrown and killed the previous Prince and set Sarah in her place.  Liam carried a chest about four feet long, seven inches high and a foot wide.  There were jewels crusted in it and a scrolled SM was embossed in gold on the lid.  Gold latches were placed in two spots along the length, hinges on the other side. 

Liam’s voice rumbled through the large hall Sarah’s people had commandeered for the coronation.  “We, the Alphas of the Four Claw Pack, pledge our friendship and allegiance to you Sarah McLean, Prince of Glasgow.”

Anna took over.  “We offer you this gift of friendship, made for you by artisans unknown in this world.”  She smiled at Sarah as she and Liam turned to face each other.  She opened the latches and lifted the lid.  Inside, nestled on a bed of royal purple silk, was an archer’s sword to rival Anna’s.  Anna lifted it out and laid it across her palms before turning to offer it to Sarah. 

Sarah looked at the beautiful weapon.  Despite the jewels, she could see that it was indeed a weapon.  The edges gleamed in the soft lights and their wickedness was evident.  The blade itself was a metal she couldn’t identify.  Marquis cut pink stones spread out across the guard from the mottled green and red stone in the center.  The hilt was wrapped in what looked like butter soft leather.  The pommel caught her attention.  It looked like a sapphire but when the light caught it a star burst from the core.

Anna spoke only when Sarah lifted the sword with a smile and began to examine it.  “The blade is Damascus steel forged with a small amount of ground Dragon scale to add to the strength.”  There was a collective gasp at this.  Dragon scale was next to impossible to come by.  Indeed, Anna had called in several favours to get this sword made as she wanted it and done in a fortnight.  It had taken a lot of magic to temper and cure the blade to its nearly unbreakable hardness in so short a time.

Anna smiled at the awe on Sarah’s face and continued.  “The guard is the same metal.  It is inset with a bloodstone in the center.  We chose bloodstone because it is said that with this stone you can track the course of the sun through the heavens.  We gave it to you so that you will always have a piece of the sun with you.”  She gestured at the sharp ovals alongside the bloodstone.  “These are moonstone, chosen because it allows you a glimpse into your future, so that you may see your enemies before they see you.”

Sarah opened her mouth to say something but Anna touched the small sapphire in the pommel.  “With this star sapphire we unite the sun and the moon as you must unite the Kisses of Glasgow.”  Anna smiled and stepped back.

Liam gave the chest to Sarah’s new aide to put away and lifted his voice as his eyes met Sarah’s.  “May there be no equal a leader, no better a governor, no rival a judge.  May your life be long, with just enough strife to make the peace always a pleasure.  May there be enough pain in your life to make you appreciate the love and joy.  May there be enough tears to make the smiles well earned.  We of the Four Claw welcome Glasgow’s new Prince!”

Sarah cradled the sword carefully in her arms.  “Thank you, Liam and Anna.  I look forward to a long and peaceful relationship with the Four Claw Pack.”  She leaned forward and whispered.  “The sword is absolutely beautiful; I can’t believe you did this for me, thank you.”

 Anna grinned.  “I have a feeling you’ll prove worth it.” 

Andre approached and Anna and Liam took their places to the side again.  Close behind Andre was Sascha and both men were smiling.

Sarah couldn’t help it, her love for them bloomed in her face and she smiled before she managed to quickly school her face back into a neutral expression.

Both men knelt on one knee and placed their right fists over their hearts.  Andre spoke for both of them.  “I, Prince Andre Whyte, leader of the Edinburgh Vampires, pledge my friendship and allegiance to you, Prince Sarah MacLean of Glasgow in times of peace and war.”  As Sarah opened her mouth to speak Andre and Sascha reached into their jacket pockets with their left hands and held out small, square jeweler’s boxes. 

Sarah looked confused.  “Andre?”

Together the two men opened the boxes.  In Andre’s was a ring with a large princess cut arctic opal in a platinum setting.  Small square diamonds were nestled on either side.  In Sascha’s box was a simple platinum circle with small round cut arctic opals set halfway around the band.  They lifted the boxes to her and spoke simultaneously.  “Sarah MacLean, will you do us the honour of becoming our wife?”

Sarah looked up from the green-blue stones in the rings to the green and brown eyes of her lovers.  “Andre…  Sascha…  I…I don’t know what to say.”

Anna, who was grinning from ear to ear, moved forward and had to be restrained by Liam.  She settled for stage whispering, “Say yes!”  Her actions made several people in the large room chuckle and whispers swept through to the back.  The entire assembly leaned forward to hear Sarah’s answer.

“Yes!  Dear Goddess, yes!”  She set the sword in its case and threw herself at her men as they leapt towards her.  Everyone burst into applause as Andre then Sascha put the engagement rings on her finger. 

Sarah’s aide, who had been acting as Master of Ceremonies stepped forward and lifted her hands.  Once the crowd calmed down she shouted, “All hail Prince Sarah!”  The echoed sentiment shook the rafters and windows and the members of Sarah’s new fiefdom surged forward.  Anna and Liam slipped out the side and headed home.