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!

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.

 

 

 

Alas, poor Yorick…

Not that I knew him well but there are days I can certainly relate.

Good morning!  I have just had the most fun conversation about stuff I need but can’t afford that I’ve ever had.  Everybody say, “Hi Jae!”

I’ll pretend you did.  Jae, of the incredibly sexy voice I’d happily listen to while he told me exactly what to do to make myself cum for him, works for GoDaddy.com.  And he could give me those instructions over the phone or blindfold me and do it in person.

I bet he’s blushing now.  *grins* I did tell him that I’d stopped paying attention to what he was saying because I had begun to try to figure out how to describe his voice to my readers.  After I told him I write “very adult fiction” he looked up my website and blog and bookmarked them both.  

Isn’t it lovely that the first one he’ll read (presumably) is about him, even just a little bit?

Now, the reason Jae called me is because today my ownership of my domain names, and the hosting, for my website runs out.  I do not have the money to renew.  Being disabled and perennially broke makes doing anything to get out of being perennially broke extremely difficult.  

I love my website.  I truly do.  Jason did some good work there. I know that a few things need to be changed – like the fonts on some pages and the Where to Buy page (continue reading for information about that) – but it is gorgeous.  I really want to keep it but I cannot afford the original $308 to renew for two years, nor the near $200 for the single year (see why I chose 2 years? Cheaper.).  

Jae gave me all kinds of info about penalties and how long I have before said penalties are applied to renewals.  We talked for a while.  I admit to prolonging the conversation (and coming away with damp panties).  

I prolonged it with bits like this:

He said, after he’d had sufficient time for his brain to process very adult fiction, “It’s too bad there isn’t a button you could click and …well, I’d be happy to read a few sentences for you.”

I sucked in a gasp at the thought of him reading lines from scenes like when Liam claimed Anna as his slave and ordered her to suck Marcus’s cock.  I said, “Duuuude! Don’t say that. That would get us off on a whole other tangent that should not be recorded for your boss.” My word, he has a sexy laugh too.

And then, sadly, the time came for our time together to end.  He ended the call with “Is there anything else I can do for you?” I said, “Yes but it doesn’t go with your job.”

*ahem*

Needless to say, that this point, it looks like my long-awaited, beautiful website is going to go down.  Hopefully, at the end of the month, maybe as early as next week, it will return but who knows.

Meanwhile!  You can actually buy HW1 on Amazon and Kindle. If you want an autographed copy you can email me at caitybowman@gmail.com . The cost for that is $15 – I have to pay for shipping but it is the same price no matter where in the world you are.  It is the Amazon cover.

I, Caity Bowman, do solemnly swear to put Lizendale up next week.  I will be going over HW2 one more time as soon as I finish HW3.  My goal for publication is July 1st.  After that, Birdie and Rolf will see print.  

I am going to have lunch now and do some more writing in HW3.  

May you find as much pleasure in this Wednesday as I did this morning. 😉  

Muah!

Spring Three – Macros!

Good day, peeps!   I am in a spectacularly good mood.   It is a beautifully, painfully sunny morning, I have good music in my ears, I’m researching my trip and I am setting up a self-bondage tie for a pita friend of mine.  And I am being evil.  I should make him get a magic wand/hitachi.  Hmmm…   *asks if he has one*

This is the (rather badly drawn) tie I'm having him do.  I have many talents.  Drawing isn't one of them. *chuckles*

This is the (rather badly drawn) tie I’m having him do. I have many talents. Drawing isn’t one of them. *chuckles*

While I’m waiting for his answer, let us continue with today’s blog.   

Last in my ‘Holy crap, do I ever need to catch up!’ series is the macros.  Tomorrow will be the pics I took last week and we’ll be all caught up and on schedule for photos! 

Oh! Joy!  He does have a wand massager.  Excellent.

First in our parade here are two pictures that amused me to take and amused me more when I saw them enlarged.  One picture I took just for the pretty… well, and because the pretty was in an odd place.  Two pictures that were fascinating and one last one because I loved what was going.  All pictures have had my usual assortment treatments done to them, depending on what they needed.  

Oh, just as a warning, the ‘Icy Gator’ picture is a little fuzzy.  Kind of hard on the eyes but its very abstract nature is what makes it what it is as a photo, I think.

Why don’t we do that one first?   This was taken on our walk amidst the melty ice on the public beach.  I couldn’t see the viewfinder (because I wasn’t sure I could get up if I got down) so I had no idea that it focused on the pier rather than what was right in front of it.  Ridiculous camera.  😉 When I got home and looked at the enlarged picture, all I could see was a fuzzy alligator made of ice.

See it?

See it?  

This next one was something I saw in the sand where the melt water was carving into the large hillocks and dunes created by the winter storms.  What I saw, immediately, was a village carved into the sand.  The whole thing was less than a foot high so of course I had to take pictures of it.

See?  Reminds me of an Indiana Jones movie.

See? Reminds me of an Indiana Jones movie.

Next we have the pretty.  On the weekends, I have a habit of stepping outside while I’m waiting on the kettle.  I look at the changes Mother Nature has wrought over night and get a feel for the day.  Peter has had these mats hanging over the railing trying to detox them for  weeks now.  That particular morning I was out just after sunrise, before the frost had a chance to crack and begin to melt.  I liked the sparkle on here and tried to capture it and the perspective I saw it from.

How pretty is my world?

How pretty is my world?

Walking along I found thing I can only figure is half of a locker door – like the kind you find in a high school hallway.  It was rusty and falling apart, almost unidentifiable.  I, of course, loved it.

The colours are beautiful.   The textures are amazing.

The colours are beautiful. The textures are amazing.

The next one is from the same area (and is our second last for the day).  I love the way the pebbles look against the rust.  And the perspective, starting with the slightly fuzzy sand, the sharper focus of the mid-ground and then the gleam of the pebbles, is wonderful.  

It's gorgeous, no?   I definitely live in a pretty world.  I love it.

It’s gorgeous, no? I definitely live in a pretty world. I love it.

And finally, one of my favourite things – the birch tree.  I don’t remember why I fell in love with the tree when I was small.  I think it had something to do with learning that the bark can be used as paper.  I came upon this driftwood while walking with The Boyfriend and just had to take a picture.  I love the lines and the colours.  I love that it looks like a fish and a mouth.  

What do you think?  Isn't it gorgeous?

What do you think? Isn’t it gorgeous?

 That’s it for me, folks.  I’ll try and get the last set posted tomorrow.   And hopefully, it won’t take me all day like it did this one.  I had good reason for it taking all day though  *smug, satisfied grin* 

“Oooo!  A double photoblog weekend!  Thanks, Caity!”

You are so welcome!  😉

I’m off to make dinner.  Oh I know that cauliflower pizza sounds gross but it’s really not.  Try it.

Muah! 

Holidays, Fantasies, Characters, and Plot Lines

 Happy Canada Day!

It is indeed Canada Day!  In 1867 Canada officially became an independently governed colony.  

Canada Day (French: Fête du Canada) is the national day of Canada, a federal statutory holiday celebrating the anniversary of the July 1, 1867, enactment of the British North America Act, 1867 (today called the Constitution Act, 1867, in Canada), which united three coloniesinto a single country called Canada within the British Empire. Originally called Dominion Day (French: Le Jour de la Confédération), the name was changed in 1982, the year the Canada Act was passed. Canada Day observances take place throughout Canada as well as by Canadians internationally.

Soo…

Bonne fête Canada!  Happy Canada Day!

Now that we have that over with, let’s get on with things.

I think my brain is finally working again.  I smell smoke so I think it is.

So I wrote a little fluff piece called The Milk Man.  It’s kinda hot.  It’s not my usual fare though.  It’s a MFM threesome (male-female-male),  which is not all that unusual for me.  It involves …toys… also not that unusual.  

“So what IS unusual about it, Caity?”

I’m so glad you asked!  “Toys” should be “equipment” and Rolf drugs the girl with E.  I don’t state that explicitly in the story but he gives her a drink of water that tastes funny and shortly thereafter sensations and pleasure are amped up.  What else could it be?  *chuckles*

Second – oh, didn’t I say “first”?  Oh well – Rolf takes her for a long drive, making her masturbate in the front seat as he goes.  My favourite part of their drive is the end:  (I should say that Rolf is a ‘Daddy Dom’, something that has nothing to do with age play in this case.  It’s about nurturing and attitudes and no desire to have someone act like they’re 15 or younger.  It’s the way the term Daddy has always been in BDSM, it’s only fairly recently that it’s turned into something with littles and that’s affected the whole form of Dominance.)

Anna gasped in equal measures fear and arousal.  When the car dipped to the shoulder her fingernails and scraped against her clit.  The fear just added to everything she was feeling and when combined with the blindfold, the spectacle she was sure she was making of herself and the random bumps in the road forcing her fingers into places that she didn’t intend was driving her into subspace.

Rolf finally turned into a gravel driveway.  “Slide your fingers inside you, girl.   Keep them there until we stop. Don’t move them.”

“Yes Daddy.”  Anna slipped two fingers into her hot, wet core and pressed her palm against her clit.

As they bumped along the rutted driveway Anna’s fingers slid in and out and her palm constantly bumped her clit.  By the time they stopped in front of a large, well kept barn, she was on the edge of orgasm, nearly crying with the need for more.  “Please Daddy!  Please.”  The last word was drawn out on a whimper, turned into five syllables.

See?  A bumpy road made good.  After that he makes her squirt hard.  

The equipment?  A modified milking machine and a spanking bench made to hold someone to be milked.  And taken advantage of.

Unusual, no?  Not sure why it was in my head but now it’s on paper (so to speak) so I can get back to work.

Work for the next couple of days involves organizing details.  Character details, location details, weapons, allies, enemies.  I have two books to go through.  I’ll write as I can in HW3 but this has to be done too.  I have to keep it straight somehow.

So what does my it’s my method and by the Gods you’d better not touch it hyper-organized self do to keep it all straight?  

A binder.

With dividers.

And sub-categories.  

And different colours.

Oh and a list in the front telling me what colours are what.

Plus highlighters and different styles of writing for each part of each category.

The problem is that there is soooo much to go through.  I am glad that I didn’t wait until the end of book three.  

Also, I’m trying to decide where the wedding will be.  The Botanical Gardens?  The Pack grounds?  

Oh oh oh my!  I just found it!

The Duke Street Church:

It’s no longer used.  Might be owned by the estate Prince Sarah inherited when she stepped into Skeena’s place.  hmmm

I’m trying to find interior pictures.  If any of you have any ideas where I could (because none of my searches are showing it) please, please let me know!

So Anna has picked her dress in HW3.  And I made a decision about how it’s all getting done quickly.

The entire community was eager for this wedding and had stepped up.  The caterers, the hall, the flowers… everything was run by the Supernatural community. 

See?  So it’ll get done, one way or another.   Now that the dress will be chosen Chelle is hustling Anna through choosing bridesmaids dresses.   Oh crap, I have to pick bridesmaid dresses!   *headdesks*  Oh and I have to figure out what “the hall” is too.  

Okay, I have work to do, brunch to make and a boyfriend to wake.  Brunch means a walk to the grocery store.  

Oh, speaking of desks!  Take a look at my new work space.  Tee says it’s messy but it’s perfectly organized, thank you very much!  

That’s Wilson under the monitor, the terrifying cat behind the laptop, a tea cup AND a water bottle. The space is HUGE and I love it! Have Peter to thank for it.

Love the new space.  I need a new chair though lol   No, the tower isn’t hooked up.  The monitor is linked to my laptop.  

And speaking of Peter:

♥ Self-portrait of the two of us. I love it.

Have a great holiday weekend!  (for those in Canada and the US [July 4th] who have a holiday)

Muah!

Wild Creatures

I can’t seem to do this blog without this theme song in my head.  

 

One fine day with a woof and a purr
a baby was born and it cause a little stir
no blue bug
no three-eyed frog
just a feline canine little catdog

catdog
catdog
alone in the world was a little catdog

out on the road or back in town
all the little critters put catdog down
trying to be brothers
trying to get along
trying to walk together
trying to sing this song

catdog
catdog
alone in the world was a little catdog

catdog
catdog
alone in the world was a little catdog
alone in the world was a little catdog

It’s one of the silliest, weirdest cartoons I’ve ever seen and I was as hooked as my kids.  More so really, since I still love it and they look at me like I’m insane.

Today is photography day!  And I’ll get to it, sorting through my pics to find the best ones.  I’m at the cottage with Peter.  I love it here.  Three seasons of the year he lives here and now I get to spend them with him.  I love looking out the window and seeing the lake.

This is not my view.  It was taken from the upper parking lot at the public beach.   Yesterday as a matter of fact.  Little heavy on the close up and not enough on the lake.  But it’s beautiful nonetheless. They are rebuilding the natural flora here – which looks better in the summer but it’s still just turning into spring so we’ll cut them some slack.

But here it’s far less toxic than my apartment has been this week.  (we have discussed what toxic means in previous posts)  I don’t know what was up with the place but I think the apartment north of mine has painted.  There was construction noise and now awful chemical levels.  It makes sense.  Plus the apartment south of mine has been leaving their garbage in the hallway between our apartments all week.  If it’s not gone on Monday I’ll be calling the landlord.

My apartment is also where the wild things are.  (Yay!  Success!  I’ve been trying to figure out how to use that since I cobbled together the idea for today’s pictures.  hehehe)

I have a cat.  He’s huge now, 9 months old, or so.  Grew so fast and so big I had to take him off the kitten food and put him on adult food already.  He is affectionately named Terror because when he was wee, no bigger than a slice of bread, he used to attack.  Not viciously but it was funny as hell.  He’d come leaping out of places.  Pounce on you in bed just because you breathed.  When you played with him when he was that small (and really, up until about 3 months ago), that furry boy was all claws.  Now he’s all teeth.  If he gets his teeth into your arm he won’t let go.  It’s funny but really painful. 

He’s a gorgeous cat.  His fur is fascinating.  It was hard getting a macro shot of him, given that he was breathing in his sleep (I know eh, how dare he! lol)  so it’s a little blurry but it shows it well.  I wanted to try macros on him so Peter and I gave it a shot.

Well, I first had to show you this, apparently.  It’s just too cute.  

Okay, now the fur.

Closer…  You can see the stripes and such here.

Looks like a porcupine doesn’t he?  It’s crazy.  He’s a gorgeous cat.  

Except at 4 am when I’ve gotten up to pee and he’s decided it’s perfect Mommy-attention time.  He doesn’t want to get it.  Nooo.  He wants to give it.  Purr, knead, purr purr purrrrrrrrrrrr.  And curl up against my head.  Forehead butted up against my arm (up near my face) or my neck… or cheek… or temple.  

Grr.

This week we had a visitor.  Can you guess what he was?

Yeah, he’s blurry but he was all twitchy.  I have a predatory aura sometimes and he thought I was going to eat him.  

Seriously.

Have you guessed it?  

This is Peanut, my daughter’s bunny.  He’s adorable.  Tiny little thing, he’s half the size of the cat.  An Angora, I believe.  She’s not online to ask.  He came to see us because he needed his claws clipped and I’m the one with the tools and experience.  Ever tried to clip the claws of a protesting Daschund?  Or a Mini-Pinscer for that matter?  Not fun! And not easy lol  The twitchy, scared little bunny is a cakewalk.

But as afraid as he was of me, this didn’t bother him: 

He was standing behind the door of the bunny’s cage.  Peanut didn’t give a damn.  And Terror couldn’t decide whether it was friend, foe or food.   They’ve been nose to nose and side by side but still, Terror can’t figure it out.  He couldn’t with the hamsters either.  He’d sit on top of their cages and stare at them.  

Speaking of wild life…

Last weekend we picked my 16 y/o son up from work and look what I talked him into:

Yep, got the teenage gamer flying a kite. 😀  “Don’t take my picture Mom!”  *insert evil laugh*  

We were down at the private beach and I swear there’s a kite eating tree in that hillside brush.   So of course The Kid had to get the kite as close to it as possible.  

And yes, he falls under ‘wild things’ as does this:

The afternoon turned into the adventures of the Madagascar Penguins and Bendy Blue Bunny.  TK and I had fun.   

And now that I’ve entertained you with the local fauna (very local lol) next week perhaps we’ll do the local flora.  Or whatever strikes my fancy. 

For now though, I need to get the scene with Liam and Anna done.  She *is* a little tied up…

Anna sat and watched as he once again dipped into her chest.  He pulled a blindfold out and wrapped it around her head.  “Lee… Master… please let me see you.”  She whimpered as her world turned completely black when he tied the blindfold tight.

Liam smiled, pleased with the look of the dark purple silk against her pale flesh.  Her mouth looked full, generous and inviting so he kissed her as he pushed her back on the bed.  He left her gasping for more as he adjusted her so that her behind was a few inches from the edge of the bed, just enough to support her feet as he pressed her heels to her ass. “Stay that way,” he said and pushed her knees wide.  Then he went back to the chest and brought out four lengths of rope the same colour as the blindfold. 

After Liam found the center of each rope he put one aside and looped the other, doubled, around her thigh and shin.  He slid the ends through the loop created by the fold in the rope and set about wrapping it around her legs a couple of times.  Then he twisted the ends and wrapped them around the loops, in front of her thigh and behind her calf, until the binding was nice and tight, then he tied it off.

Then he picked up another length, slid the center through the leg bondage, put the ends through the loop and tightened it.  He tied the whole thing to the headboard so she couldn’t move her leg.  When Anna whimpered and pulled, he patted her thigh.  “You’re fine, pet, don’t worry.”  Then he did the same thing to her other leg and tied it to the footboard.

Anna was spread wide open and held like that, with her feet near her ass, thighs and calves tied together with loops of dark purple rope.  Her pussy was spread wide open, every curve, every fold, every drop of moisture exposed.  She whimpered and tried to hide herself from view, taken by surprise at his sudden desire to bind her.

“Anna Marie! Do I need to tie your hands too?”

“No Master, please don’t.”

Yet Liam saw her twitch at the thought.  He found the leather cuffs he’d had her wear often when they were apart and wrapped them around each wrist then clipped them together with the carabiner that dangled from the left one.  He drew her arms over her head and leaned over to whisper in her ear.  “Leave them here.  Don’t you move them.”