Advent Calendar Conclusion: Christmas Eve

Superotica Advent Calendar 2014

It’s Christmas Eve, and all through the blog,
Not a twitter was stirring, nor even a frog…

Ok, yeah, that was bad. But it is Christmas Eve, and this means that today the final window in Tamsin Flowers’ incredible Advent Calendar has been opened. Ten days ago window #14 opened up on my own little story excerpt, and I let all of you know about it, and about the fabulous thirteen authors whose work appeared ahead of mine. Hopefully you have now enjoyed all the delicious treats that awaited you there, and perhaps followed along for the ten to be revealed since.

What’s that you say? You missed the previous post? You weren’t aware of the Superotica Advent Calendar? In that case, you will definitely want to start from the beginning, and you can find a complete listing of each author and entry here.

Once you’ve read through those, or if you have been all along and are now ready for the rest, well, here are the remaining stories, ready to round out your holiday treats!

  1. Lace Winter – Switch: Cuffs and Clamps
  2. Exhibit A – Dark Sky
  3. Jacob Louder – M
  4. Rose Caraway – An XXX-mas Story
    1. You can also hear an audio version of this story narrated by Rose here, with a sweet bonus by Malin James.
  5. A.M. Hartnett & Sheri Savill – Slender Man
  6. Malin James – The Couch
  7. Tabitha Rayne – The Clockwork Butterfly
  8. Kristina Lloyd – Undone
  9. Jane Gilbert – Dirty Hands
  10. Rachel Kramer Bussel – Dual Mastery
  11. Tamsin Flowers – Alchemy xii – New Year’s Eve

You cannot go wrong with any of these stories. Each of them is a wonderful holiday stocking stuffer for you to enjoy, and their combined heat should warm you on even the coldest winter day. It’s time to start unwrapping…

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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

I’ll Be Home For Christmas

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“Fabulous party, Kat! Thanks so much for inviting us. You really do know how to put on a dinner. Such a shame David couldn’t be here.”

Kathleen smiled and said good night to the last of her guests, wishing them a safe drive home through the snow. As soon as the door was shut, her smile disappeared. She turned back with a sigh to look over the mess of her living room and kitchen. Oh well, she thought, these dishes won’t clean themselves, so might as well get started.

Would it have been better if David had made it home? She wasn’t sure. Things had been a little tense between them before he left for this latest business trip, but they had always managed to hide such things behind an easy facade of marital bliss in front of guests before. Still, he should have been there, but the snow was coming down thick and who knew what the airport was like. She let the post-party melancholy wash over her, almost relieved to not have to be happy and cheerful for others any longer.

Kathleen started the first load in the dishwasher and began rinsing the remainder when the musical chime of the telephone interrupted her. David’s cellphone. His flight must have finally landed.

“Hey. Where are you? Everything ok?”

“Yeah. We got diverted to Grand Rapids. The airline offered everyone a hotel room.”

“Oh.” So he wasn’t coming home tonight. Kathleen wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She should have been disappointed, but her lack of disappointment was what disappointed her more.

“So how was the party? Sorry I missed it.”

“It was good. The Johnsons showed up after all.”

David laughed over the poor connection. Weather must have been interfering with his signal.

“Did they put on their usual show? Emily get drunk and flirt outrageously in front of Mike?”

In fact, Emily Johnson had done just that, as Kathleen had known she would. The previous year Emily had draped herself all over David at the party, whispering things into his ear, putting her hand on his hip, pushing her breast against his arm. Her husband Mike had silently steamed, drinking more and more while watching his wife with a frown, and Kathleen briefly entertained the idea of causing her own diversion. David had looked uncomfortable, but his erection had been pretty obvious through his slacks. This year had been no different, except instead of David, Emily picked on someone else. Kathleen had hoped they wouldn’t actually come, but they did.

“You know she did.” Kathleen hoped the bitterness wasn’t obvious in her voice. Really, she didn’t know why still threw these Christmas Eve parties, they just made her feel dejected, but everyone expected it of her.

“Hey. Kat. Really, I’m sorry I couldn’t be home. I know these things are draining for you.”

“Really, David? You’re not home for Christmas Eve; are you even going to be home for Christmas day? Did you have to wait ’til the last minute to fly home? Couldn’t you have come a day earlier?”

“Kat. Honey, I’m sorry about that.”

Kathleen felt awful. She knew it wasn’t David’s fault he’d had to go on this trip, and the client demanded he be there until the last minute. He wasn’t responsible for the weather or flight delays, but she just couldn’t help herself, taking her frustration out on her husband.

“I’m sorry, David. I know that was uncalled for. I’m just frustrated.”

“I know. I understand. Maybe I have a way to make it up to you.”

Was that a hint of something sly in his voice? What was he planning?

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me what you’re doing right now.”

“I’m doing the dishes and cleaning up, what else would I be doing?”

“Uh huh. Are you wearing your cocktail dress? The slinky little black number?”

Kathleen took a breath and let some of her frustration ebb away. It really was one of her favorite dresses, and now she remembered that David bought it for her last year.

“I am.”

“You know I’ve always thought you incredibly sexy in that dress.”

She smiled. “Yeah, well, right now it’s covered up with a kitchen apron so I don’t splash dirty, soapy water on it.”

“Wouldn’t it be even safer to take the dress off, and just wear the apron?”

“David! What, feeling a little lonely in your hotel room, are you?” Kathleen giggled.

“Just saying. It would be a shame to stain the dress. You’ve still got the fire going, right? It’s not cold? So why not go hang up the dress, nice and neat, and not take any chances?”

Despite herself, Kathleen felt a small tickle of arousal at his suggestion. Why not? Who was going to see, anyway, and it would make finishing the dishes more interesting to play along. She cradled the cordless phone against her shoulder and walked out into the living room, where indeed the fire still roared bright and warm, toasting the room.

“Ok. Ok, you win. Hold on a sec, I’m going to put the phone down a moment.”

She imagined she could hear his smile of satisfaction through the call. Now she felt silly about the idea, and considered just telling him she was removing the dress but not really doing it. After all, how would he know?

Then she looked at the photo of the two of them, together, on the mantel above the fire. They had taken that picture — was it a selfie? or a dualie? with both of them in it? — four years earlier while on a cruise in the Caribbean, and they both looked so happy in it. It had been Christmas then, too, except Christmas in Tortola was an entirely different affair from Christmas in Chicago. She had been happy then, she remembered. Very happy. David had made her feel so treasured, loved, and desired. She looked good in the photo, as did he — he was a very handsome man, was it his fault that drunken bitch Emily made a move on him? — and she realized that he made her feel sexy.

Kathleen shucked off the apron, then slinked out of the black dress. She was momentarily self-conscious, standing before the fire in nothing but heels, hold-ups, and panties. She carefully draped the dress over the back of a chair, then put the apron back on. Her nipples pebbled at the slightly rough texture of the apron brushing against them, and she began to feel a little naughty and, yes, sexy, doing this, even if there was no one to see. She picked up the phone.

“Ok. I did it.”

“Panties too, darling. I want you naked under that apron. You can leave your shoes and stockings on, if you’re wearing them.”

Kathleen blushed, which was silly because she was alone.

“David! I don’t know what’s come over you.” She thumbed her panties over her hips and let them fall to her ankles, then stepped out of them and bent down to pick them up and put them on the chair beside the dress. “There. I’m essentially naked, only the apron to cover me, and you know it doesn’t cover much.”

“Good thing you aren’t cooking with hot oil, then, eh, darling? Are you back in the kitchen now?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

“Well, I’m washing dishes, of course. I mean, most of them are in the dishwasher, but I’m rinsing off the extras.”

“Uh huh. Are you bending over the sink?”

Kathleen blushed again. How could he make such an innocuous thing feel so wicked?

“Um… yes. A little bit.”

“Bend over more. Make sure that pert little bottom of yours sticks out while you rinse those dishes.”

Kathleen couldn’t quite believe how turned on she was. Heat pooled in her belly and between her legs and her breathing deepened. She ran the tap to rinse away scraps and added the plate to the pile.

“Do you have much more to do?”

“I’m just about finished.”

“Mmm, yes, you are, aren’t you?”

Kathleen squirmed, not entirely sure about that, but feeling delightfully naughty from the simple act of washing dishes in the nude.

“Now, darling, I want you to touch yourself.”

“Touch myself?”

“That’s right. You know what I mean. And tell me how it makes you feel.”

She couldn’t quite believe she was doing this, but she played along, reaching under the apron to cup her own breasts, enjoying the weight of them in her hands, and taking the nipples between thumb and forefinger.

“You aren’t talking to me, darling. What are you doing?”

“I… I’m touching my breasts.”

“You know you have the most gorgeous tits, don’t you? I’ve always loved them. Now put a hand between your legs and touch yourself there.”

“David…”

“For the sake of a stranded traveler?”

Kathleen took another deep breath, then did as he asked. She wasn’t very surprised to find herself incredibly wet. Why did this turn her on so much? They had never done phone sex before, but she couldn’t deny the arousal she felt from hearing David’s voice and knowing he was hearing her. She wondered what he was doing on his end of the phone.

“Are you wet, my love?”

“Yes.”

“You do know I love you, right?”

She did. He did love her, and she did know that. And she loved him, too. Somehow they had allowed themselves to forget this all-important fact, but it was still true.

“Yes, David. I do know. And I love you, too.”

“So you miss me right now?”

“Oh, David! You’re getting me all worked up over here, when you’re off in another city, hours away, with a snowstorm between us. Is this a special kind of cruelty?” She said that with a strained bit of laughter, then moaned very softly into the phone while continuing to touch herself. “David, I wish you were home. Right now.”

“I’ve sent you a gift.”

“A gift? How could you send me a gift? You just got off a plane in another city from where you’re supposed to be, another city from me.”

“I arranged for a special delivery. Open the front door.”

“What? I can’t do that! I’m naked!”

“No one will see, my love. Do this for me. Trust me. It’s waiting for you on the front porch. Just open the door.”

Kathleen had serious doubts now, but it was after Midnight, after all. David was right. Who would see? She would be quick, she wouldn’t actually step outside, just open the door and quickly grab whatever it was.

“Ok. You’re unbelievable, you know. I can’t imagine how you arranged a special delivery late at night on Christmas Eve in a snowstorm while stranded away from home.”

“I have my ways.”

She almost heard the smirk in his voice. She wondered if the gift was going to be something naughty, a sex toy or something of that sort. That would explain his mood and the phone call. She went to the door and peeked through the peephole. No one was there, of course, and the porch light was already out after the last guest had left, much earlier.

“All right, I’m opening the door. If I get mugged, it’ll be your fault!”

Kathleen unlatched the deadbolt and pulled the door inward. She was confused; there was nothing on the porch.

“There’s nothing here. It didn’t arrive. I hope you didn’t pay extra for this delivery.”

“Ah, but it did arrive, my love.”

David stepped into view from beside the doorway, cellphone to his ear, snowflakes covering the shoulders of his overcoat and sticking to his hair. Kathleen was so surprised she nearly dropped the handset. He grinned at her, taking her in from top to bottom, barely concealed behind the apron, then looked straight into her eyes and spoke into the phone again, so she heard his voice live and a half-second later as an echo through the handset.

“Merry Christmas, Kat. I love you.”

wicked_wednesday

[I have entered this story into Marie Rebelle’s “Wicked Wednesday” #134 for “Christmas 2014.” Click the button and be sure to read all the other entries!]

Alchemy xii

Alchemy xii

image credit: White Room, via Tamsin Flowers

My name is now in print in a book you can actually buy! Or, well, download to your Kindle, because the book is free. Now before you get too excited about that comment, no, I do not mean that I have finally published something to Amazon. Soon, I hope! Some day…

However, my dear friend Tamsin Flowers, whom I have talked about before in these pages and with whom many of you are already familiar, has done something I did not expect, something that took my breath away when I saw it.

Tamsin, of course, has published quite a few books. She is a prolific and fabulous author, and her works are both kinky and quirky. There is usually a lighthearted tone to her erotica, and a lot of fun and whimsy, though occasionally she goes to something a little darker, and that’s pretty exciting, too.

Now she is embarking on something a little different, a little retro you might say, hearkening back to the days of the penny dreadfuls and when many novels were published in serial form in the pages of magazines and newspapers. She is writing a great omnibus of a book, Alchemy xii, and publishing it one month at a time, in thirteen installments. The first installment, the prologue to the series, is titled New Year’s Eve, and although it was intended to become available on December 31st, it is in fact available on Amazon now. For free.

image credit: White Room, via Tamsin Flowers

image credit: White Room, via Tamsin Flowers

Which means you really have no excuse not to download this book to your Kindle immediately. If you do so, and you go to the back of the book, there is an acknowledgments page. Four people are acknowledged there for their assistance helping Tamsin make this book the best it could be. Three of those names are probably no surprise to anyone following along: Malin James, Jade A Waters, and Eva Gantz. Malin and Jade are published authors, Eva is a standout in the publishing industry, and all three are popular bloggers or podcasters who have worked with Tamsin for some time.

The fourth name is Lace Winter.

Me. Alongside these greats. Included in Tamsin Flowers’ new book.

All I can say is that I feel incredibly honored that Tamsin asked me to help, and humbled to be included.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. The acknowledgments are at the back of the book. You really should get there by reading the book. You will want to read this book, the prologue and every installment. My name is in there because I believe in this book, because it truly is excellent.

In fact, my first ever Amazon review on any book is for New Year’s Eve. There will be more (I have a small backlog of books I loved that I want to go review), but there can be only one first.

So what is it all about? Well, it’s a ‘club BDSM’ story, and of course there have been many of those (I love reading them myself), but Alchemy xii goes a bit beyond that. The Alchemy of the title is the club itself, a near-mythical place occupying several floors atop a tall skyscraper in downtown Chicago. ‘Alchemy xii,’ or Alchemy 12, is the name of the club’s submissive training program, a year-long program in which a small handful of very lucky subs participate, at the end of which a number of opportunities may open up for them. Not all of them will complete the program. The head of the program, and Chicago’s ‘Prince of Kink,’ is Harry Lomax, a Dom a bit unlike most you will have encountered in fiction before (and probably outside of fiction, too). Harry is a very compelling character, not a cookie-cutter at all, complex and with his own little quirks. He’s not perfect, in the sense that he’s a human being, too, and this just makes him all the sweeter in my view. He’s also not pure Dom; he has a switchy side to him, in the right circumstances, and New Year’s Eve gives us a hint of that in his interactions with his boss and friend, Belladonna Grim. However, when he’s with his subs, there is never any doubt about who’s in charge, and whatever doubts and anxieties Harry may have, he won’t let them show here.

New Year’s Eve is told from Harry’s point of view and is the story of how, with a matter of only a few days and then just hours to go before the start of the new training program, he still has one trainee slot to fill. Enter Olivia Roux. Harry spots her while canvassing other clubs and immediately knows she’ll be perfect. He also knows he has to approach her just right, or she’ll run, because she’s new to this scene. In this installment, Harry courts Olivia for his program, although he doesn’t tell her until just a few hours before the deadline — Midnight, New Year’s Eve — what is really going on. Then the question is whether she will accept on such short notice, or will she turn him down?

Olivia herself is not pure sub, and this is something Harry sees in her early on, though she doesn’t know it yet about herself. Olivia is also a bit switchy. She definitely thinks for herself; no pushover, our Olivia.

image credit: White Room, via Tamsin Flowers

image credit: White Room, via Tamsin Flowers

The suspense, of course, is whether Olivia will accept, but it’s probably not much of a spoiler, because the rest of the series will be Olivia’s journal entries as she recounts and reflects upon her experiences. Oh, and yes, I’ve had a sneak peek into January, which will become available on January 1st, and I am not going to give anything away except to say that you will absolutely fall in love with Olivia when she finds her voice, just as you will fall in love with Harry in New Year’s Eve. You will want to be Olivia when she first experiences Alchemy.

Alchemy: (n) A power or process of transforming something common into something special. (source: Merriam-Webster)

Tamsin Flowers has worked her process and the result really is something special.

image credit: White Room, via Tamsin Flowers

image credit: White Room, via Tamsin Flowers

Olivia and the Advent Calendar

Superotica Advent Calendar 2014

Today I am a guest over at Tamsin Flowers’ blog Superotica, #14 on her Advent Calendar. Tamsin has featured another excerpt from my work-in-progress, Switch, with the continuing adventures of Olivia Strong.

Yes, that’s right, Tamsin has herself just published a story featuring another submissive named Olivia — Olivia Roux — and there are even a few other similarities between her Olivia and mine, though this is entirely coincidental. The similarities end there, but I like to think that if her Olivia and mine were to meet they would be friends. I think they would. I am going to post later in much more detail about Tamsin’s Olivia and her fabulous new serial novel Alchemy xii.

Today, however, I want to talk about Tamsin’s Superotica Advent Calendar. Every day from December 1 through December 24 she is posting a new story or excerpt, almost (and so far) entirely by guests, not by herself. Each story is accompanied by a picture (usually) selected by Tamsin, and she has been choosing some very interesting ones! This is in part inspired by Alison Tyler’s October post Power On, and in part just Tamsin’s own generous nature shining through, but her goal is to showcase a number of writers, some well-known and others up-and-coming, whose work she enjoys. I can tell you, there have so far been some amazing pieces featured, and it has become a regular feature for me every morning to read and enjoy the latest. So far, we have had:

  1. Alison Tyler – A Brief Distraction
  2. Saskia Walker – Monica’s Secret
  3. Justine Elyot – Hearts and Diamonds
  4. Ella Dawson – Promises
  5. Kay Jaybee – Santa’s Little Helper
  6. L Maretta – Falling From Disgrace
  7. Lana Fox – Cream: An Erotic Romance
  8. Molly Moore – Secret Santa
  9. Oleander Plume – Chemical [se]X
  10. Jade A Waters – Fertile
  11. Sommer Marsden – ‘Tis The Season
  12. Janine Ashbless – The Military Mind
  13. Delilah Night – Plunder
  14. … Me!

To say that I’m a little nervous, being in amongst some very famous names here, well, it’s a bit of an understatement!

In this excerpt, which takes place shortly after the most recent excerpt I’ve posted here on my own blog, things between Olivia and Nicholas have definitely heated up. I hope you enjoy it!

I also hope you enjoy all the other fine writers who have been featured so far, and will be featured in the ten days to come, of the Advent Calendar. No, I do not know who the remaining ten writers will be, just as I did not know who would come before me until each day when they appeared.

Thank you so much, Tamsin! You’re an absolute doll! ❤

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Distractions and a Quick Snippet

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I’ve been working on Partners and Crime lately, trying to expand it to a longer, single piece of, oh, perhaps 8000 words or so when done (for comparison, the three parts already posted here came to a total of about 3300 words combined). I have actually found it a little bit slow going, partly because I’m still figuring out where this story is supposed to end up (remember, it started as flash fiction and was never supposed to be more than a thousand words or so), and partly because I originally intended it for posting only to the blog, which I generally keep at no more than, um, somewhere between PG-13 and R rated, perhaps, and yes, it has now definitely crossed that border firmly into R territory, maybe even a little NC-17 in there.

Which is odd, because it’s not as if I haven’t written some very explicit scenes in other stories before (Switch). Why is this one different? Perhaps it’s because I’m actually thinking about how this one could appear as a short novelette on Amazon? Because I’m already thinking about potential beta readers and their reactions? Because when I first started writing Switch (which, so far, is much more explicit) a year ago, I didn’t ever expect to show it to anyone?

Or perhaps I’m just massively overthinking it.

Or spending too much time on social media. Yeah, there’s always that. Having trouble wordsmithing the next sentence? No problem! After all, someone just favorited my latest rambling tweet, and I need to go check that out. Oh, and look, someone just posted a very interesting article on — wait for it — social media strategy for authors; I’d definitely better read that. And hey, some of my favorite authors just got published in a new anthology; mmm, reading that sounds like much greater fun.

(On a side note, Chemical [se]X, edited by Oleander Plume, really is great fun to read.)

The blog could use an overhaul, too — really, I should put my excerpts together on an actual page — and gosh, I haven’t posted anything in a long time, and… well, I’m taking care of that problem right now, aren’t I? And distracting myself from finishing up a measly few thousand more words in Partners and Crime.

Ok, though, seriously, where do you think the story should go? When last we left them, Eileen McConnell and Daryl Travers had to dash into a shower stall in the women’s locker room at the police department where they both work because two other officers had just come in to the room. Oh, and Travers had been wearing Eileen’s handcuffs for most of the action up to this point, though she has just taken them off him (though that story point could change — what do you think?). Now, if you aren’t exactly clear on how these two ended up in this predicament, this would be an excellent time to go back and read the three installments I posted to the blog.

On another side note, Jade, I really did not have you in mind when I named one of the two officers entering the room Waters — the name just appeared from thin air as I wrote — but, hey, what would you do if you were in your namesake’s position? And yes, I know you aren’t nearly as crude and crass as the Waters in the story. You’re far too nice, and she’s… well, she’s not. At least, not yet.

Finally, I’ll leave you with a very brief snippet from the continuing story:

He tugged, and with a wiggle of my hips my panties slipped down my thighs. I tried to kick them away, but only succeeded in tangling them about my ankles. If Travers noticed, he gave no sign, and very quickly I forgot all about them too when…

When what? Ah, I’ll leave that to your imagination… for now.

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Safewords and Spankings

[Yet another excerpt from my work-in-progress novel, Switch. If you haven’t read the previous excerpts, you can find them at https://lacewinter.com/category/novels/switch/. In this scene, Nicholas has just delivered Olivia’s first-ever erotic spanking, and while it thoroughly aroused her (and hurt like hell), it left her confused about her feelings with regard to submission. This gives her an idea, but things never seem to work out quite the way Olivia plans.]

 

“Maybe you should have a safeword,” I said.

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Because just maybe I might want to tie you down instead, and spank your bottom. After all, I think you’ve been a very naughty Dom.”

Nicholas laughed. “Naughty? How have I been naughty?”

“Well, to use your own metaphor, you may steer the car and hit the accelerator, but only I have the brake pedal. Well, I’m not the one who put the brakes on just now; that was you. I was ready to press on, but you are the one who slowed things down. So, it seems to me that your foot strayed over the line onto my pedal, and therefore you were out of bounds and deserve a spanking.”

He truly looked amused. I don’t think he took me seriously. Of course, I’m not sure that I was being serious, I was just riffing on his own line, but now that we’d gone there, why not? I tapped his chest with my forefinger.

“So, big boy, what’s it going to be? Will you bend over that bench like a good boy and take the punishment you deserve, or do I need to restrain you?”

“And if I decide not to cooperate, little girl, just how are you going to bend me to your will?”

I took his hand and pulled it between my legs, placing his palm against the heat emanating again through my panties.

“You want this, don’t you?”

A fire gleamed in his eyes, and he didn’t pull his hand away.

“Well, if you harbor any hopes of getting that reward, and make no mistake, it will be a reward, then you had best be a good boy and do as you’re told.”

I couldn’t quite believe my audacity. Did I actually just do that? I sat there, holding his palm against my sex, staring him down, daring him. My heart was beating a hundred times a minute with nervousness and excitement, and I felt something hot pooling down low in my belly. I might have been blushing and sweating a little, because I was pretty sure he could feel the dampness that I just knew had to be soaking through my panties. I didn’t back down, however.

The amusement and fire in his eyes gave way to uncertainty, and then curiosity. He didn’t answer right away, he just sat there, looking me in the eye. He didn’t move his fingers, he just kept his palm still against me, and the heat between us grew nearly unbearable. If he didn’t break soon, then I would.

He broke.

He took a deep breath before speaking, opened his mouth, paused, closed it again, then finally spoke.

“You make a highly convincing argument, little sub, but I am only going along with this because it pleases me to do so, and because it pleases me to please you.”

He stood up, holding me so I didn’t dump onto the floor, then releasing me. I stared up at him with a confidence in my gaze that I didn’t yet feel in my heart.

“What’s your safeword?” I asked him.

“Oh, I don’t think I’m going to need a safeword, do you?”

“You just delivered a fine-sounding lecture about how a submissive retains the ultimate power, but only because he has a safeword. You’re the submissive now, and I’m your Domme, even if only for a few minutes. Do you really wish me to have that much absolute power over you? Because if so, I’m fine with that, but don’t come crying to me when you can’t handle what I dish out.”

His eyes danced with amusement. Of course he thought he was just humoring me.

“Very well. My safeword is obstinate, as in you’re an obstinate little sub who seems to like getting her own way.”

I smiled and followed him back over to the bench where, minutes earlier, he had me tied down and wondering what on earth had gotten into me. He kneeled and bent over the horse, looking just a little uncertain about it once he was in that position. Admittedly, being a big guy, he looked a little funny like that, but I thoroughly enjoyed the sight. I patted his ass affectionately, noticing how firm it felt through his blue jeans.

“Hmm, I think these are going to need to come off. After all, fair is only fair.”

His head whipped around, looking over his shoulder at me. “Oh no, I don’t think so. Don’t you think this is enough?”

“You have a safeword if you don’t like it. Otherwise, boy, I’m calling the shots.”

He scowled, thinking about it, then after a moment reaching to unbuckle his belt.

“Ah-ah. Keep your hands on the bench in front of you, unless you want me to tie them. I’ll take care of that.”

He pulled his hand away, leaning fully over the bench. I stood close behind him, leaning over him so I could get my arms around his hips, and took the belt buckle in my hands. As I undid it, and unbuttoned the fly of his 501s, I was hyper-aware of the closeness of his incredibly sexy ass to my hips. I think I even unconsciously pressed against him a bit. Well, maybe not all that unconsciously. I needed to get this lust under control if I wanted to do this right.

Very carefully I avoided touching him more than I needed to as I slid the jeans over his hips and down around his knees. Well, it seemed our oh-so-dominant Nicholas liked to go commando. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I took a deep breath, feeling almost a little light-headed, looking at that bared male vision before me. No flabbiness on this man, that was for sure. His glutes and quads bespoke a man who either spent much time in the gym, or a lot of time on his feet, using his legs. I bit my bottom lip and reminded myself of my task.

I stood up and knelt one knee on the bench beside Nicholas, leaning down to speak into his ear with one hand on his back.

“Are you ready, not-so-little sub?”

He hung his head, took a deep breath, then replied. “Yes, Mistress.”

Ooh, I liked the sound of that. A little thrill ran through me when he said that. Deeply satisfied, I ran my hand down his back, caressing him, until I felt his shirt end and his bare skin lay under my palm. I pulled his shirt-tail up out of the way, letting it bunch up around his waist, and following the cue from when our positions had been reversed, rubbed his right cheek in a circular motion, preparing him.

“How many spanks do you think you deserve, my sub?”

“As many as Mistress deems appropriate.”

“Good boy.”

I spanked him.

He barely flinched, but oh wow, my palm stung. I ignored the pain, rubbed his cheek, and then spanked the left one. Again, I really felt that in my hand, while he hardly seemed to notice. I didn’t even see much redness on his bottom, just the barest impression. I gave him two more swats, one to each cheek, in fairly quick succession, and then I had to stop.

My hand was on fire. Something was not right in this scenario.

I stood there a minute, shaking out my wrist, until I noticed him looking over his shoulder back at me, a gleam of laughter in his eye.

“Is something wrong, Mistress? Have we begun yet?”

Olivia Finds Her Hot Button

[This is the fourth excerpt from my work-in-progress novel, tentatively titled Switch. Before continuing, you may want to go back and see the earlier excerpts at In Which We Meet Olivia and Say Goodbye to PaulSecond Chances, and Second Chances (continued). After a disastrous attempt at figuring out if she’s into kinkier things with an ex-boyfriend, Olivia visits a local club that offers lessons. There she meets one of the instructors and is more than intrigued by the contrast he offers to her ex, but his calm detachment and polite refusal of her advances confuses her. In this scene, she has returned to the club for a second visit and decided to join, only to find a class has just finished (always a day late, that’s our Olivia).]

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Nicholas noticed me looking around and leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Would you like to see some of what we were doing in class?”

Again, my heart caught in my throat. What had they been doing in class? Something about rope-work. Well, my imagination could run wild with that. Obviously somebody was getting tied up, or tied down, or something.

“Yes, please.”

He waited. I just looked at him quizzically. Finally, he said, “Yes, please,…?”

I was thoroughly confused, and that must have shown on my face. He relented and said “Yes, please, Sir.

Oh.

Right. That. I had so much to learn.

He was still looking at me expectantly.

“Yes, please, Sir,” I said.

He grinned. “I think that’s another five swats added to your punishment, wouldn’t you agree?”

Ok, now we were talking! He could take me from aggravated to confused to relieved to absolutely drop-dead hot in a matter of moments.

“My my, little Olivia, I do think we’ve found a hot button for you. Do you even realize how much your whole demeanor changed when I mentioned swatting you and punishment?”

Was my heart ever going to slow down to a normal pace again? He leaned down close and whispered in my ear, “I’m going to spank you.”

I’m fairly sure I squeaked.

Switch: Second Chances (continued)

[This is the third excerpt from Switch. If you haven’t been following along, I recommend reading the earlier segments: In Which We Meet Olivia and Say Goodbye to Paul and Second Chances.]

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Paul still looked a little uncertain, but he didn’t think about it too long. He started pulling off his shirt, perhaps a little too eagerly, as he got himself stuck with his arms bound up in it behind his back. For a moment I thought of keeping him there, like that, and I had a brief frisson of excitement race through me, from a point between my breasts right down between my legs. The moment passed, however, and I just giggled a bit, turning away and climbing up onto the bed. I reached over to the nightstand and pulled out the handcuffs.

Paul’s eyes fairly goggled when he saw them, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Um, what’s up with those?”

I grinned over my shoulder at him as I threaded them through the slats in the headboard.

“An idea I had. Come on.”

He seemed really uncertain about it all, as I put first one wrist in a cuff, snapping it closed, and then my other. When that second one clicked into place, it passed quickly through my mind, What the hell am I doing? I didn’t let that stop me, however. Facing him again over my shoulder, my upturned ass in the air as I kneeled on the bed, resting my elbows on the pillows, I smiled, not at all as sure of myself as I tried to sound.

“I want you to spank me.”

Poor Paul. Now he really had that deer in headlights look, his shirt hanging from one wrist, his fly unzipped, standing there in shock.

“Spank you?”

“Yes, that’s right, I want you to spank me. I told you I wanted to try something different. Come on, it’ll be fun. Anyway, it’s an experiment.”

“I don’t know, Olivia. I mean, what if I hurt you? Are you sure about this?”

I heaved an exasperated sigh.

“Paul, get your ass up here on this bed, and spank me!”

His eyes grew even wider, if that were possible, but he finally got himself fully untangled from his shirt, kicked off his shoes and, still wearing his half-unzipped pants, climbed up onto the bed behind me. I wiggled my bare derriere at him and giggled again, although inside my heart was pounding something fierce and I could feel the heat of a blush spreading across my face and chest. I tugged on the cuffs experimentally, and yes, they held, very securely.

He put a hand on one of my butt-cheeks, and I liked that, so I wiggled again to encourage him.

“What are the handcuffs for? And when did you get those? Did you have those before?”

“I just got them, and I don’t know, it’s just an idea I had. I thought it’d be fun. Now come on, get busy!”

He lifted his hand, hovered over me with it for a moment, then sort of softly whacked me.

“Harder!”

He smacked me again, very slightly harder this time, but still very tentative.

“Did that hurt? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Paul, I’m not a baby, and you barely tapped me. It’s supposed to sting a little, isn’t it? It’s a spanking. Come on, spank me harder.”

“Can’t we just make love like normal?”

I sighed. So far, this experiment was a bust.

“Paul, please, can we just try it?”

He hit me one more time, no harder than before. Nothing. I was not aroused. I wasn’t turned on. This wasn’t working for me.

“I’m sorry, Olivia, I just don’t know. I don’t think this is right.”

He climbed off the bed and stood there, looking at me. Obviously it wasn’t working for him, either. He zipped up his fly, stepped into his shoes, and picked up his shirt.

“I don’t think I can do this, Olivia. I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go.”

I stared open-mouthed at him in shock.

“Go? Now?”

“Yeah. Maybe you were right the other night at dinner. I mean about us not being right for each other. Anyway, see you around, perhaps, ok?”

And with that, he walked out of the room.

“Paul!”

I heard the front door shut behind him as he left the apartment.

“Paul, dammit!”

I rattled the cuffs. I looked over at the nightstand, at the closed top drawer. The drawer I’d gotten them from. The drawer where the key sat.

Now what the hell was I going to do?

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Partners and Crime (part 3)

[This is the third segment in a continuing erotic short story. If you’re just coming across this story for the first time, you might wish to go back and read part one and part two first. You can also find the entire story listed under Categories… Short Stories in the sidebar to the right on the main page. If you’ve been following Eileen’s tale so far, well, things get decidedly… ahem… steamier in this installment. Therefore, it is not intended for readers under the age of 18. Not that you couldn’t see this coming from the earlier segments, I hope. 😉 ]

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The shower door shut behind me and I pushed Travers against the tiled wall. He’d said only one word since the cuffs went around his wrists, but his face told me all I really needed to know. Again I claimed his mouth, crushing his lips beneath my own, taking what I needed from him. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of his uniform shirt, acting with a will of their own, and then I pushed it off his shoulders, leaving it bunched around his wrists behind him.

The vest, though. This presented a little more challenge. Undaunted, I ripped at the velcro straps, freeing the front section from the rear, and pushed the heavy ballistic material up, but with Travers’ height I couldn’t quite get it over his head. He ducked to aid me, but I worried about dropping it on him and breaking his neck.

“Let me help you,” he whispered. He must have seen the doubt in my eyes. He half turned, presenting his locked wrists to me.

I looked him in the eye. We were already so far beyond the pale of acceptable behavior in the Department. Indecision nagged at me.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I muttered to myself. Travers is your partner, Eileen. Do you want to get fired? I pulled the key and with a metallic click freed his wrists.

If he heard me, he gave no sign. Freed from the cuffs, he quickly pulled the vest up over his head, hanging it with his undershirt and uniform blouse in one smooth motion from a towel hook. I hadn’t actually seen him without a shirt on before, and for a moment or two I lost myself in his smooth pecs and rippling abs. I could only hope my openmouthed surprise and naked desire wasn’t too obvious. I barely registered as he quickly relieved me of my own top, and then the sharp rip as he pulled the velcro straps on my ballistic vest brought me back to my senses.

“Wait,” I said, as my vest joined his, side by side on the hooks.

“Not yet,” I breathed as he lifted my arms and my sports bra went with the vest and uniform.

“I don’t think…” as he turned me to face the wall and pressed himself tightly up behind me,  his hands on my hips and his lips nuzzling against my neck.

“Don’t think, McConnell.” His breath was hot against my ear, and again that spicy aroma wafted over me.

Heat shot through my core, racing from his lips against my earlobe to his hands at my waist, and pooling low between my legs.

“Eileen,” I said. “Call me Eileen.”

I squirmed, needing some relief, and felt his clear arousal pressed against my backside. My worries melted in the heat of my need, and I pressed my cheek against the cool tile of the shower while his fingers undid my belt. I relished the smooth ceramic against my breasts, flattening my nipples, while my uniform trousers fell around my ankles.

“Black lace,” he said quietly, his fingertips sliding around the waistline of my panties. “I should have known there was a sensuous woman under that tough, professional exterior.”

I turned around in his arms, putting my back against the wall, laying my palms against the firm muscles of his chest and pushing. I took a deep breath, opening my mouth to speak, to object to his comment, and that’s when I realized he had completely divested himself of all his clothing. Whatever I had meant to say, it was gone. I couldn’t help myself; I looked down between us.

If his desire had been obvious before, it was almost painfully evident now. I struggled to imagine skin stretching so tight and wondered how he withstood it. His erection angled up and a little bit away from his body, slightly curved and pointed right at my belly, quivering gently from his deep breathing. A small drop of moisture glistened on the tip, and I could not help myself. I reached down and curled my fingers about the head, gently sliding my thumb through the smooth silky slickness.

Travers leaned his head back and groaned, closing his eyes. His entire body went rigid, and I swear, he got even harder in my hand, though I couldn’t see how that was possible. His large hands slid up my waist to grip me under my armpits, cupping the sides of my breasts with the heels of his palms. He moved his thumbs to my nipples, already pebble hard, sending jolts of sensation arcing through my body. I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth.

Get a grip, Eileen, I told myself. You’re losing control of the situation.

I reached up with my free hand and gripped the back of Travers’ head. The short spikiness of his close-cropped hair was almost electric against my palm. All of my senses seemed to be on hyperdrive, threatening to overwhelm me, yet still I pulled down on his head and brought his face to my breast.

Travers sucked my nipple between his teeth and laved it with his tongue. I moaned aloud, and that’s when the door to the locker room opened and Waters and Clark walked in.

The shower stall door was shut, but it would be immediately obvious someone was in here. Did they hear my moan? Would they look under the stall door and see four legs instead of two? No, why would they do that? But they might easily see Travers over the top of the door; he was a tall guy.

I reached beside me and turned on the water, drenching us both instantly. Of course the water was frigidly cold and my skin prickled with goosebumps, but that was the least of my worries. I put both hands on top of Travers’ head and pushed him down to his knees. He started to yelp when the water hit him, so I pulled his face in tight against me, muffling his mouth against my lace panties.

“McConnell, you ok in there?”

Travers wrapped his arms around my legs, his broad hands gripping my ass, and nuzzled me through the black lace material. I struggled to maintain calm in my voice.

“Yeah… yes, fine, just, uh, dropped the soap.”

I heard a snicker, Waters I thought, but I couldn’t be sure.

“Careful, McConnell. You never know what might happen when you bend over to pick it up.”

Waters was always trying to one-up the guys on the squad with how crass she could be, and Clark took her cues from her partner. I looked down at Travers. He hooked his fingertips in the waist of my panties, which would have been sopping wet even if the shower wasn’t running. He seemed oblivious to all else, and I was rapidly losing control again.

“Ha, funny! Yeah, I’ll be careful, all right.”

I gripped the short hairs of Travers’ head tightly. I had a very good idea what would happen if I bent over.

<To be continued>

Coffee Romance

I’m considering an entry for Frisky Feminist‘s Erotic Romance Anthology Love in the Time of Coffee. I mean, I love erotic romance, and I love coffee, so what’s not to like here? Of course, some seriously good writers that I know of are also considering entries, so competition might be… ahem… stiff. But, one has to start somewhere!

It’s not clear if the deadline for submissions is October 1 or December 1, so on the assumption it’s the former, I (and maybe you, too?) have to decide quickly. As in, very soon.

Here’s a snippet from the blurb at friskyfeminist.com:

Got a story about that sexy barista who keeps putting hearts on your cup? What about the brooding person in the corner that you just know is writing love poetry you’re dying to read?

We want to read it!

This comes right on the heels of Sheri Savill tweeting about coffee porn, which just got us all steaming and frothing for more, so the time must be right! At least right to ponder it over a cup of coffee.

What do you think?

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