Tag Archive | erotic

Slave Girls – Craving To Submit…




Ahhh… Sorry just had to get that out of my system – this cover is so spectacular that I couldn’t make you wait till later in the post. I just had to go for it straight off – and truth be told I’m half tempted to leave it at that. What more persuasion would you need to buy this glorious book?

But I wouldn’t be playing fair if I didn’t tell you a little more about it…

Have you ever felt the urge to submit? To pledge your body and mind to a master? To give a stranger complete control over your pain and pleasure? Intense pain, shattering orgasms, souls laid bare and skin burned with belts and canes…you’ll find it all between these covers in a collection of stories that are deliciously intense and divinely decadent. The stories D L King has curated in Slave Girls are hot and dirty – and if you’ve been harboring a secret desire to submit, somewhere deep down inside your soul, this is a book that will make you tremble…



Forever in an electric dance of give and take, pleasure and power are inextricably linked. In Slave Girls, award-winning eroticist D. L. King pulls back the velvet curtain to reveal a world where every sexual fantasy is realized, a world driven by women devoted to their own desires and their dominants. These Slave Girls want nothing more than to willingly relinquish control to the capable hands of the right Master. Trained and tested to suit every sexual taste, these women learn the ropes—literally. A hassle-filled day turns on a dime when a strong Dom takes charge in Victoria Behn’s “Hell-Bent for Leather.” In Giselle Renarde’s “Postcards from Paris,” one good girl lives for her daily dose of discipline and tough love. The thrill of being in service to a stranger compels the lust-filled sub in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s “Out of Sight.” Your own desires may surprise you after finishing the submissive exploits of Slave Girls.


From “Savoring Little One” by Graydancer


         Slow. Savor.

Her thighs came into view, the seam going up to be lost in the dark lace that bound each leg. I swallowed. There must be some atavistic trigger that makes the sight of a garter fastened to the top of a stocking rouse a primitive hunting instinct. It’s like a crosshairs laid over a particularly delectable prey. Almost irresistible.

The straps of each garter climbed the curves of her ass, one on each side, neatly framing the beautiful cleft between two graceful hemispheres. Her skin shone silvery pale, and again I flexed my fingers. Then I saw the dark fishtail shape of a lace thong flowing from the top of her ass over each hip and disappearing under the garter belt.

I frowned.

“Little One, was I mistaken in the purpose of your invitation?”

She turned her head over her shoulder, eyes surprised. This wasn’t how the script in her head was written. “Um…what?” she murmured, and then caught herself, maintaining her demeanor. “What do you mean, Sir?” She looked confused, a little lost, and my heart beat a little faster at the adorably sweet expression.

I stepped closer behind her, deliberately, keeping my face stern as I met her eyes. “I asked”—my hand went to her neck, caressing the smooth skin there—“if I was mistaken”—fingers curled up into her hair—“as to why”—tightened, her breath hissing as my fist clenched, tilting her head up and toward me—“you invited me here.”

My face was centimeters from hers, and I could feel the warm skin of her ass pressed against my trousers, her skirt still held up in tight shaking fists. She knew I wasn’t actually upset—the swell of my cock pressing through my trousers against her buttocks was evidence of that. However, arousal did not translate into kindness in our particular dynamic. In fact, it often resulted in the opposite. She knew that. I felt her tense with fearful anticipation and grind her ass against me in spite of it. Because of it.

“You asked me to come here and take you,” I growled, my eyes locked on hers. “You were quite specific about your desire for fucking and sucking and beating and kneeling and having me, for lack of a more convenient term”—I tightened my grip slightly—“fuck your shit up.” Her pupils dilated slightly with the added rush of endorphins.

“Yes, Sir…” she breathed out, an eager, trembling sound.

“And I, in turn, was quite specific as to the manner in which you were to present yourself.”

“I thought…that is, I mean, I did, Sir, I thought…” I could see her mind racing, comparing the inventory of what she was wearing with the emails and chats we’d exchanged, the many flirtations that had led to this evening. I knew she would go over and over them in her mind, looking for something she’d missed or added, round and round in her head, and I let her wheels spin.

The fact was that she was perfect. She was wearing exactly what I’d requested, from the long skirt to the thin white cotton blouse. Heels to hair and everything in between, lovely and luscious and a feast for my eyes to savor.

But beauty is only part of this kind of play. The spice comes from the fear and the sweet dissonance of conflicting desires, to please and to be punished.

My part was, in effect, to season the experience. To taste.

“It’s not the ‘what,’ Little One. It’s the ‘how.’ Do you recall my views on the proper deportment of thong and garter belt?”

“Yes, Sir…you prefer the thong over the garter belt.”

“Yes, Little One, that’s what I said. And you responded with a very particular statement, one that I never forgot.” I turned her head slightly so that my warm breath tickled her sensitive ear. “You said you’d never had occasion to dress in such a slutty way.”

She didn’t reply, but I felt her body react to the words.

“So I’m forced to wonder if perhaps I was misled as to the nature of this occasion. Perhaps you don’t want to be on your knees. To feel my cock fill your throat till you gasp but still want it deeper. That sopping cunt of yours slam-fucked till you can barely walk, forced to cum for me till you’re hoarse and still beg for more.” I made the words guttural, growling, letting the monosyllables strike her desire with physical force. She was grinding against me harder now, and it took every bit of resolve I had not to push back.

But no, I was a rock of will upon which her growing lust crashed, and I continued. “That’s how I remember our conversation. That’s what I thought you invited me for.” I hissed angrily in her ear. “Was I wrong?”

She whimpered softly. “No…”

“Then say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I…I want you, Sir.”

“That’s all? Simple enough. I’m here.” I tightened my fingers again, eliciting another soft, high moan. “Your ass says you want more. Tell me what you want, Little One.”

She made another keening sound, and I shook her slightly. “Tell me!”

“I…I want you to…to fuck me, Sir.” Suddenly the barrier was broken, and the words poured out in a rush. “I want to taste you…I…I want to suck you hard and cum on your hard…c—” She paused for a moment, and I thought I might have to pull the word out of her, but then she swallowed, licked her lips, and forced it out. “Your…c-cock over and over and feel your hand on me, in me, taking me, I want you to take me, Sir, use me…” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again, and one more word whispered out. “Hard.”

Available from Cleis Press and Amazon.

The Bachelor’s Prayer


I’ve written a dirty story.

“So what’s new?” you might ask.

This one! It’s new, it’s desperately dirty and it’s free for you to read over at Juicy Sex Stories.

“What’s the catch?” you say.

The catch? No catch. Well, it’s not really a catch…but you could do me a favor by rating it (and naturally I’d prefer a higher rating to a lower rating but I’ll leave that particular detail to you). You see, it’s an entry in a competition. I had to write a story about a sexual first. Luckily, it didn’t have to be something sweet about a pretty and naive (albeit rather old for reasons of decency) girl losing her virginity. It could be about any sexual first. And I wanted to write somethng dirty. So I picked pegging.

Yes, that’s right – head over to Juicy Sex Stories to read The Bachelor’s Prayer – an every day tale about a charming young man being pegged by his girl!

But before you go, here’s a little teaser….

16727266_sThe Bachelor’s Prayer

It’s pretty much same all over the world, I would guess. The Bachelor’s Prayer—dear lord, save us from needy girls, save us from greedy girls, save us from girls that turn into their mothers and save us, most of all, from girls who want to experiment with sex.

Okay, you’re looking at that last clause and I know what you’re thinking. What’s wrong with a little experimentation in the bedroom every now and again? And I couldn’t agree with you more. A little pushing, nudging of the boundaries is a fine thing. When I’m in control of it. But sometimes, a ballsy girl might push you a little too far. Take you out of your comfort zone and lead you along a path you don’t really want to explore…

For example, take what happened between me and this chick, Della. She was hot and when I picked her up, one Saturday afternoon down at Benny’s pool hall, she was wearing the shortest shorts—like, when she bent over the pool table… Well, you get the picture, don’t you? We went back to my place, sunk a few beers and got down to business—fast. She was a girl with a healthy appetite. I banged her brains out three times before Sunday morning and after that we were an item. She would come round to my apartment whenever she felt horny and that was pretty much every day. I began to get worried about the little man, that I’d wear him out or something. And the guys at work—the more exhausted I looked each morning when I came in, the more they laughed.

In other words, for about three weeks she was perfect.

But then, on the twenty-second straight day in a row that she’d come over, she was kind of ornery. We started making out on the couch when she suddenly pulled back from me.

“You know, Charlie, this is getting kinda boring.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. My cock, straining up against the fabric of my shorts sure didn’t think so. “What d’you mean?”

“Like, you know,” she said. “Same thing every day. I come round. We kiss, I go down on you, you fuck me. I go home. Same thing each time.”

“You wanna do something different?” I asked. Myself, I couldn’t see the problem.

“Would you, Charlie?” she said. She had the cutest smile when something made her happy. “Would you really let me play?”

“Sure,” I said. “Whatever you want.”

Those are three words that, when you’re talking to a woman, you’d be wise to avoid. That was the lesson I was just about to learn.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ve got a couple of fun toys at home. I’ll bring them with me.”

Then she went down on me and, boy, was I in heaven for eleven and a half minutes.


Want to read more…?

Have you met the Sexy Librarian?


Nothing gives me more pleasure than seeing a new book pop up on my Amazon author page – so, yeah, take a look at this little beauty courtesy of Rose Caraway and Cleis Press

I’m so hoping the book is actually going to be that big when it comes out!

I have a story in it called Pow! It’s Shibari Girl!, which is a lot of fun. And there are stories by lots of other amazing writers, including Rachel Kramer Bussel, Salome Wilde and, of course, Rose herself.

It’s not coming out until November, but you can pre-order it:


Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

The Furious Temptation of Elise Hepner!


I’m very excited today to have a new – never been on Superotica before – guest for your delight and delectation: the wonderful Ms Elise Hepner! And she’s brought with her a very saucy little excerpt from her latest title, The Furious Temptation from Secret Cravings Publishing.


For millennia Megaera, a Fury, has functioned as Hades right hand by passing judgment on demons who break the sacred laws. Stalwart in her moral compass, but harboring a curse triggered by rage, she walks a thin line between perfection and destruction. But when she digs into a case uncovering a string of demon rapes, she incites a war with Mount Olympus that could ripple chaos throughout the ages.

Omen Cole was demon made during the Civil War after repeated torture at the hands of his enemies. Sentenced to an eternity as watchdog over his emotionally frail, once human ex-wife, he’s haunted that he couldn’t save her from a brutal assault.

Now it’s happened again. And Megaera needs his testimony. Omen will sell his body—and anything else—to avenge his fragile ex-wife. If that means an alliance with Megaera, he’ll make it the most memorable of their eternity.



Omen Cole would get nothing from me. Not when we’d be working together for Goddess knows how long. His grip on my bicep tightened imperceptibly, as if he wasn’t aware of his strength. Heat washed up my arm, as bitingly painful as any burn. But I didn’t flinch, tense, or move a muscle. Let him unleash his rage on me, at least then we’d be working with a clear-headed demon instead of one clouded by unbelievable rage.
“What do you want?” I narrowed my gaze, tongue easing across my bottom lip.
It wasn’t really a question, not as he backed me against the hard press of marble. Nowhere to go and no one to see us. Adrenaline pounded at my temples as his other hand took a hold of my other arm. I was as good as pinned by his body and his stare. I cocked my head, a subtle dare. The lift of my lips, only at one corner—come and get me.
“A distraction.”
Before I could make another comment, the small inch of space separating our bodies dwindled to nothing as he shoved himself on me, his lips bruising against mine as my whole body went limp with acceptance. Take, take from me for the good of our cause—a cause that suddenly outweighed all of my common sense once I’d convinced myself on the walk to the elevator that this form of distraction was exactly what he needed to keep himself on track. Not as though our plan benefited me in any way at all. Gave me an excuse. The excuse.
His tongue pushed against my mouth without invitation and I opened for his perusal knowing that, as his fingers tightened around me and pain spiked up to my shoulders, he wouldn’t give me a choice. Part of me—the beast, the anger—coiled inside me. An innate reaction to a predator as my hands slid up through his button down to have skin on skin. His first few buttons burst because I couldn’t get to him quick enough. I let myself dabble in the freedom of touch. In the longing for unshackled emotion of any kind—and my beast was sated, even as I yearned for more of him.
Our bodies molded together and he groaned in my mouth, easing his other hand to my left breast before he cupped me. His possessive touch was an electric shock to my system and I jerked against him. His laughter as he tugged my lower lip between his teeth and brought my nipple hard against his palm. A yearning unlike anything I’d ever acknowledged, nothing and everything shifted for me all at once as if a part of myself was merely waiting, dormant for the pleasure that would calm me and piece together my tormented puzzle.16727266_s
When my fingers skimmed the line of his pants, he let out a satisfying hiss that made my panties damp as my stomach plummeted to my sensible heels. In kind, Omen brushed his thumb across my nipple, earning my small shift as if to get away from the torment despite the wall at my back. On the second pass, I did the next best thing. I left the teasing to amateurs. My hand slid past his pants and found his hard, long length hot against my palm. I squeezed him, unable to suppress a noise in the back of my throat that ricocheted inside my bones.
Omen moaned and mumbled something I couldn’t make out with the sound of my need pounding against my temples. As his hand moved from my bicep I tried to pinpoint his next move. Oh, so wrong. His nimble fingers tipped my head back with his tight grip in my hair so it stung enough to get my attention. He underestimated me. I wasn’t losing this battle.
Despite my small groan, lips partway open, eyes slit while I watched his expression flit from one emotion to the next. Nothing stopped my progress when my palm slid from the base of him to the tip, one hard, long slide that made him quake against me. He yanked my head back even further. His grip on my breast was relentlessly hard and he bared his teeth in a smile that rocked me to my core.
“You haven’t gone for the obvious point yet.” I struggled to exhale, every bit of me trembled, and my voice was gravely with lust.
“Unlike you, I don’t need to cheat.” He drew close to my cocked back head as our lips almost pressed together, our body heat mingling as he ground himself against my palm. “For another time.”
His light kiss caught me by surprise—but the swiftness with which he entangled from me must have hurt, as I was still very much attached to him. Even from practically across the room he showed no pain. Though his pants were a bit constricted at the fly and that bit of discomfort was enough of a hit for me that I was satisfied.
“I wasn’t distraction enough for you?”
“No, you were perfect. I simply can’t stand the idea of using you up so quickly. Even if I do want to fuck you into the wall behind your back until you can’t walk straight for a week. But a gentleman doesn’t tell his superior that, especially when she’s a lady of good breeding. So you think on that, and I’ll pretend I didn’t say it out loud. Wouldn’t want to give you any ideas you couldn’t handle.”
“I can handle far more than you know, little boy.”
“Oh, now, come on.” He gave me an incredulous, cocky look. “We both know I’m not little. The warmth tingling on your palm speaks for itself.”
Thankfully before I had the chance to lick my lips and tip my hand, the elevator’s telltale wind pushed us both a bit to the side. The car came to a standstill with barely a screech of effort and the golden, shimmering doors pulled back as I fought to regain some kind of composure. I was buzzed from the tips of my toes to the top of my scalp. It took everything in me to wipe the dopey grin off my face that would have proved it as I moved into the elevator car without another glance or word to Omen. I only knew he followed me because he greeted Hermes and told him to take us to the archival room.
Point. Set. Match.
And there would be no rematch.

Buy Links:


Barnes & Noble

Bio: Elise Hepner lives with her husband and two eccentric cats in Maryland. She spends the majority of her free time in her basement office concocting smutty characters and sinful situations that leaves readers satisfied. When not writing, she researches everything from automatons in the 18th century to gladiatorial rules in Ancient Rome. She prides herself on being an avid information hound as well as a blog reading addict–which is her favorite way to procrastinate. Her previous publications include books and stories with Entangled, Excessica, Xcite, Ellora’s Cave, Secret Cravings Publishing and Cleis Press.
Author Links:

Website: http://www.elisehepner.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/EHepner
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Elise-Hepner-Writing/311925106401


I Can Never Say Never to Alison Tyler!


Yes, she’s back! Erotica’s most prolific writer – Alison Tyler (who else?) – has skipped on over with her latest title from Cleis Press, Never Say Never. But this one is a little different… Part sex guide, part erotic anthology, totally super hot – this is a book that every couple needs to keep things alive and sizzling in the bedroom. Or for that matter, in the kitchen, on the stairs, in the garden or somewhere else where you shouldn’t be doing it!


Okay, so here’s the formal blurb:

Never Say Never
Tips, Tricks and Erotic Inspiration for Lovers


Inspiration for Lovers

Monogamy does not have to equal monotony! Bestselling author Alison Tyler has made it her life’s mission to demonstrate that uninhibited, exciting and highly imaginative sex goes down best with lovers who just happen to be long-term couples, too. Half of a very happily married duo, Tyler explains how couples can build a level of trust that makes experimentation possible.

Never Say Never is a blissful blend of Tyler’s wisdom, expert advice and scintillating erotic scenarios guaranteed to liven up your bedroom. Finding the true object of your lust is only the beginning. The sizzling stories and helpful tips in Never Say Never will help you discover exactly what sets your pulse racing for a lifetime of satisfying sex.


And what’s not love about that? I’ve been dipping in and out of Never… for the last few days and not only have I been learning some new tricks (What? Did you think erotica writers knew everything about sex?), I’ve also been enjoying the superb stories from truly excellent writers – Kristina Lloyd, Sommer Marsden, Justine Elyot, Thomas S Roche, Janine Ashbless, Angell Brooks, Georgia E Jones, Charlotte Stein, Teresa Noelle Roberts, N T Morley, Shanna Germain, Sophie Valenti, Donna George Storey, Ashley Lister, Dante Davidson and of course, Tyler herself.

As my favourite editrix writes in her introduction… That’s what Never Say Never is all about: the endless array of possibilities that await when you place a handcuff key on your key ring, when you dig in the closet for four silk ties, when you cue up the camcorder to make a “home movie” you won’t be playing for the Mahjong Club. In this guide/erotic collection, I’ve gathered sixteen stories to set the mood, to spark ideas, to spank your inhibitions – and I’ve added tawdry tidbits from my own explicit experiences, as well as more than fifty filthy clips from more than forty well-known writers in the erotica industry.

(Oh, and I’m proud to say that I number among those forty! Find my clips if you can…)

Meanwhile, here’s a fabulously filthy excerpt from Sommer Marsden’s story, Beneath the Surface.

16748341_s“I think you need to let me put it in you for a minute.” He says this to me with a wry grin and I want to appear affronted. Offended. Shocked.
            I’m not. My body betrays me by sending out a rush of arousal. Nipples spike, stomach dips, pussy grows wet. I swear I can feel my eyes dilating and my pulse jumping like a cornered rabbit in my throat. My fingers are clutching cut up vegetables, my mind is on measurements and the final headcount. I’m frustrated, anxious and frazzled. I stare.
            “I know you’re busy, though, so just for a moment.”
            “I’m not…ready,” I lie. Why do I always do this to myself when he surprises me this way? Why do I never just say, Yes, dear fucking all that is holy yes! Fuck me now. I’m ready. No preamble is fine. Why do I always insist on the build up?
            Derrick reaches out to capture my hard nipple through my worn out UCLA tee. He pinches hard enough that my tongue roams over my lips to lick away the dryness. Pleasure and pain tangle, grapple, fight to the death and on that final bit of pressure pleasure wins. My pussy goes from wet to soaked, my need to have him now has become overwhelming. That fast. That easy. I drop my clutched vegetables on a pretty crystal plate because my hands are shaking.
            What he just did to me—so simply and so expertly—is why. I want the dance of warring emotions. I want the teasing and the torture. I want the blips of pain that slither beneath my skin, dark needs swimming in vibrant want. Like eels beneath the surface of a sunny pond.
            “Just a moment,” I gasp. “But I’m not wet—”
            “If you say you’re not wet enough Fiona, I’ll have to spank you. Because it isn’t just a lie. It’s whatever lies beyond a lie.”
            Something twists deep inside of me, rippling waves of fear and excitement radiate out from my center. My body seems to be humming with electricity. I chew my lip as if considering and then blurt. “But, I’m not wet enough.”
            “Lie,” he reminds me, smiling.
            He is absolutely right. We both know it. It is a big. Fat. Lie. But one I need to tell.
            “See,” Derrick whispers pushing his big hand slowly past the meager barrier of my ratty old sweat pants. I’m catering an event. I’m up to my eyeballs in batter and flour and small delicate cheese twists and fruit and that ever loving fucking veggie platter. I am dressed like a castoff or a college student. My dark hair is twisted up like a mad woman’s. But I can feel my pulse slamming in my temples and my cheeks blushing a hot, slatternly red.
            I watch his hand disappear inch by inch until he’s turned his palm to me, cupping my mound, long thick finger nudging between my nether lips to brush rudely over my clit. Too short, that touch was too damn short. But then he’s plunging a finger into me and my eyes are sliding shut. I’m so wet I can hear him sink a second finger into my willing cunt.
            “Feels pretty wet to me,” he says. His free hand yanks my sweats down around my knees and I gasp. It’s always a surprise when taunting turns to rough. And when rough turns to welcome it’s even better.

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Spring Fling Blog Hop – Win a Sexy Book!


Spring is very definitely in the air now and to celebrate my friends over at Love, Lust and Lipstick Stains have devised a mega blog hop. The sap’s rising, the bunnies and the blogs are hopping and the prizes are amazing! YOU COULD EVEN WIN A PRIZE HERE!

Over fifty authors and bloggers have joined together to bring you some amazing posts, great giveaways and lots of fun! Don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter to win a Kindle tablet, gift cards, paperbacks and swag and be sure to check out the other blogs taking part.

Now, of course, given the theme of the hop, my post should be about Spring-and I would be the first to admit it’s a very sexy time of year. But when you write erotica, most of the action is taking place under the covers or down in the dungeon, so none of my work really dwells upon the season-apart from The Christmas Tattoo, obviously!

But because I know the Spring sunshine is making everyone feel horny, instead I’ll tease you with an excerpt from my current release, Her Boss & His Client– a steamy, sultry, sexy menage story set in the fast-paced world of London advertising.



And be sure to enter the Rafflecopter for lots more prizes!



Here’s the blurb:

When Dana Lewis starts her new job at a prestigious London advertising agency, she vows to herself that she won’t sleep with her new boss – a mistake that got her fired from her last job. But that was before she was allocated to work on Jack Brent’s team, writing copy for the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever met. And when he starts playing footsie with her under the table at lunch on her first day, she knows it’s only a matter of time…

Nathan Drake is a travel tycoon and he expects the very best from the agency he employs to create his advertising campaigns. Jack puts Dana on the job and Nathan makes it clear he likes what he sees, whisking her away to his country retreat.

Before she knows it, Dana is burning the candle at both ends – and her new lovers are complete opposites in the bedroom. Nathan is as calm and controlling as Jack is fiery and tempestuous… However, she doesn’t want to risk being caught as a two-timer, so she knows she needs to make a decision. But which man should she choose?


Nathan bent closer, so close I could feel his breath on my forehead, my cheek, my chin, my throat.  I gasped but as I moved my head forwards, he inched back, teasing me still, making me wait for what I needed so desperately.

‘Please, let me kiss you.’

My voice sounded breathy in my ears but he only answered with another question.

‘Can I blindfold you?’

He didn’t wait for my response.  Like a conjurer he suddenly held a silk scarf in his hands and then placed the soft fabric across my face and tied deftly at the back of my head.  I bridled against it in a moment’s panic and put my hand up to pull it away.  But Nathan caught my wrist.

‘Shhhhh, it’s okay,’ he whispered in my ear.  ‘Nothing bad will happen.  Only good, only things you want.’

His hand stroked my cheek and the panic subsided a little.

‘Why the blindfold?  I want to see you.’

‘But I need you to feel me.  To smell me.  To taste me.  We use our eyes too much, Dana.  Making love needs to draw upon our other senses.’

He trailed his tongue down my neck and across to my clavicle.  My breath hitched and as I drew in air I became aware of his musky, male scent.  I slumped forward against him as my legs turned to water and in one sweeping move he lifted me into his arms.

‘Okay, yes, I surrender,’ I said, letting my head fall against his chest.  ‘Do with me what you will.’

I felt myself being carried upstairs and then along a straight landing or corridor.  A door swung open with a creek and then fell shut behind us and then, although I could feel we were still moving, Nathan’s footsteps made no noise upon the floor.

He put me down gently and I found myself lying on a soft, warm surface, a little firm for a bed.  I felt around with my hands. If it was a bed, it was huge; I couldn’t feel an edge in any direction.  The room was silent.

‘Nathan?’ I said, suddenly nervous again.

‘I’m here,’ he said, and the smile in his voice reassured me.

But then his actions did anything but.  With a sudden flurry of move and a metallic clicking noise, he had cuffed one of my wrists to something secure somewhere above my head.  I thrashed my other arm but he had the advantage of sight and a moment later that wrist was cuffed too.

‘Nathan,’ I said, ‘I don’t like this.  Please let me go.’

‘Dana, you gave yourself to me.’

‘You said you wouldn’t hurt me.’

‘Have I?’

He stroked my forehead and then I felt his lips on my neck again.

‘No,’ I whimpered, fear and desire colliding within me.

Slowly and gently his hand reached underneath me and found its way to the zipper of my dress.  He pulled it down and then equally slowly I felt him peeling my dress away, as if he were unwrapping a present.  He uncuffed each arm in turn to release my arms from the garment, then recuffed them.  I lay still, just slightly raising my hips to allow him to slide the dress down and away; I heard the soft rustle as the slip of fabric landed somewhere down beyond my feet.  At the same time, there was a sharp intake of breath.

‘God, you’re beautiful, Dana.  I pictured you like this in my mind but, Jesus, I didn’t come close.’

I sensed the weight of his body straddling me, even though he hardly touched me.  Then his hands came to rest along my forearms and for the first time I felt his lips on mine.  I lifted my head to receive his kiss and his tongue pushed gently into my mouth, rubbing itself against my tongue, exploring with leisured insistence.  He tasted good, a little sweet with the memory of the alcohol we’d drunk earlier.

My whole body responded, my tongue hungrily invading his mouth as I writhed beneath him.  His hands slid down my arms and softly skimmed the lacy bra against which my breasts now strained.  He hooked a finger into one of the delicate cups and yanked the material down to free its occupant.  As he did the same on the other side, his mouth pulled away from mine and then I felt his tongue, followed swiftly by his teeth, on my nipple.  He pulled and cajoled and nipped, and under his ministrations my hips strained up against his thighs and then pushed down hard against the mattress.  He caught my other nipple with his finger and thumb, making me gasp as he twisted it hard, and the fact that both breasts were still confined by the pushed down bra made it feel even sexier.

But then suddenly he vanished, his mouth and his fingers absent, his weight lifting from the bed.

‘Nathan?’ I said.

Absolute silence.  Absolute darkness.  I was breathing heavily and I needed to be touched.  Deep inside the dull ache of longing had become more akin to a sharp pain.  I strained against the restraints at my wrists.  If Nathan had gone, I needed to be able to touch myself.

‘Behave, my darling, or you’ll have to wait longer.’

He sounded a long way off, on the other side of the room; a very large room.

I tried to stay still, pushing my thighs together in attempt to salve the pain and need between my legs.  But immediately Nathan’s hands were on my ankles and my legs were gently separated.  I felt him slip something round my ankle and then I heard the metallic jangle of a buckle being pulled tight; my leg was immobile.  The same treatment for the other leg and there I was, pinned down and vulnerable, in just my panties and my pushed-aside bra.

I whimpered.  I wanted to feel his touch, firmly, and I shivered in anticipation, not knowing where to expect it.

But Nathan made me wait.  I don’t know how long I lay there captive.  And all I could think about was him.  My mouth watered, my cunt grew wet and warm, me breathing fast and nervous.  My hips started writhing of their own volition and I felt on the verge of tears, ready to cry with frustration if I didn’t feel his hand on me soon.

Momentarily something brushed against my ribs and I yelped, my breath hard and fast as I fought against my restraints.  But then nothing.  Perhaps I had imagined it.

‘Nathan?  Are you here?’

‘I’m here,’ he whispered right in my ear, making me jump.  ‘Are you ready for me?’

‘More than ready.’  I could hardly speak.

He kissed me again, long and hard on the mouth.  And then he let his tongue wander, down the side of my neck, across my shoulders and onto my breasts.  As it brushed my nipple, I let out a low groan; it was as if my skin caught fire under his touch.  A hand slid down my belly and crept inside the top of my panties, making my hips buck and my back arch.  My whole body had become hyper-responsive, making me moan and cry out, so brutal was my need for satisfaction.

As I writhed and wriggled, he quickly ripped away my panties and I thrust my hips forwards to meet his hand.  But they met nothing and once again the room was quiet.

‘Please, Nathan.’  I’d never heard myself beg before.  ‘Please.’

‘What do you want?’

I felt his breath like a soft caress on my inner thigh.

‘I want to come.  I want you to make me come.’

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50 Shades of Kink – Beginners’ BDSM


Do you know your top from your bottom? Your flogger from your quirt? Your Ben Wa from your butt plug? If you can answer yes to all three questions – woah, you’ve got it going on! But if you’re not so sure or you’re looking for a little expert guidance for your play, I’ve got the perfect book for you:



Tristan Taormino has written the perfect beginners guide to kink-so if 50 Shades of Grey made you feel a little more adventurous but also slightly nervous, let Tristan run a soothing hand down your back and tell you all you need to know about BDSM. In other words, submit yourself into the hands of an expert!

This is, frankly, a gorgeous little book! It really is a pocket guide that, should you want to, you could sneak into a coat pocket or purse for speedy reference. (Fabulous work, as usual, from Cleis Press!) But despite being dinky it’s packed with advice and information to take you on  a journey that your body desires, even if your hand’s a little shaky to start with. You can use it to explore your own newly awoken interests or give it to a partner who’s new to something you know and love. It’s the ultimate beginners’ guide to the world of kinky sex, BDSM, roleplay and a whole host more. From the basic techniques involved to inspired suggestions, you’ll learn about bondage and spanking, how to eroticize power and cultivate deeper connections. Tristan will teach you the language of kink as she lifts the veil on popular taboos and fabulous fantasies.

Inside, you’ll find chapters on:

  • Embrace Your Inner Kinkster: Myths, Truths, and Communication
  • BDSM Basics: Terms, Roles and Principles
  • Dominant/Submissive Role Play
  • Sexual Power Games: Pleasure and Orgasm Control
  • Sensory Deprivation: Blindfolds, Hoods, and Earplugs
  • Sensation Play: Massage Oil Candles, Nipple Clamps, and More
  • Bondage: Basics and DIY
  • More Bondage: Restraints, Bondage Tape, Gags, and Collars
  • Smack! Spanking, Paddles, and Crops
  • Smack Harder: Floggers and Canes
  • Rough Sex
  • Fifty Items for Your Toy Bag
  • Reading List

Here’s a delightful excerpt on sexual power games:

Sexual Power Games: Pleasure and Orgasm Control

One way to explore dominance and submission is through sexual power games. Sexual power games are role-playing scenarios that use sex as the central tool for control. They often revolve around giving or withholding certain types of stimulation and pleasure, ordering the submissive to perform sex on herself or you, and controlling the submissive’s orgasms. Remember that as with other kinky activities, consent is key; so when I use the terms control, order, force, or torture, I use them in the context of a scene where people have agreed to consensual dominance and submission.

Tease and Torment

Tease and torment is a fun game where the dominant is not only clearly in charge but uses that power to torment the submissive. The idea here is to get your submissive nice and turned on, squirming in pleasure, and then, back off. This is where you stop what you’re doing to him, and watch him squirm even more. Put your mouth just an inch away from her pussy and stay there. Turn the vibrator down or off suddenly and don’t let her have the controls. Stop fucking her. Hover over her lips just barely touching them. Then, tease. Don’t let her get close enough to your hand, mouth, cock, or body to have what she craves. You can combine this game with bondage to make it even more difficult for her to get what she wants. Teasing builds tension, anticipation, and arousal. It puts what your partner desires just out of reach. This can lead to someone asking, begging, pleading, or even bargaining (“I’ll give you the best blow job if you just fuck me afterward.”) Eventually, you will give in and let her have what she wants, and by then, she’ll be so beside herself, the payoff for both of you will be even bigger.

Forced Masturbation

This is a good one to play whether you’re in the same room, in separate places, or connecting long distance via phone, instant messenger, text, or Skype. It’s easy—the dominant orders the submissive to masturbate. This is a great way to exercise control over her pleasure: she gets to have it, but only when you say so. In fact, maybe she can only touch herself with your permission. Perhaps you give her instructions about exactly how she should do it, and she must follow your directions to the letter or risk punishment. Maybe she needs to describe to you in detail what she’s doing, what she’s fantasizing about, and what she wants you to do to her. Maybe she needs to get over her shyness and perform for you, give you a show. Maybe she must dedicate her orgasm to you or say your name when she comes, or ask your permission before she has an orgasm. Whatever way you design it, this once solitary activity which was her domain alone now belongs to you.

You can also direct your submissive to masturbate when you’re not around. Order her to do it with a specific toy or wearing a particular outfit. Tell her to write up a report of her activities and send it to you. Get creative with your requests; you’ll keep her on her toes and you on her mind whenever she masturbates. These can be great homework exercises for couples in long- distance relationships, and they help keep the D/s dynamic present even when you are not physically near each other.

Orgasm Control

Imagine if your ability to orgasm was decided by someone else. If you like being at someone’s mercy, handing over control of your pleasure, then this kind of surrender may really appeal to you as a submissive. For dominants, do you like to take charge of your partner’s body and use sex as a way to control her? Orgasm control can take several different forms, each of them a different kind of sexual power play.

One very popular element of dominance/submissive role play is when the dominant requires the submissive to first ask permission in order to have an orgasm. It’s a simple, yet deeply symbolic act that says, “I control you. Your orgasms belong to me.” Some people write it into their contracts. Basically, the submissive must always ask the dominant’s permission before having an orgasm. Usually, the rule means that as the submissive is right on the edge of coming, he has to pause, ask (or beg), and the dominant can decide to extend or deny permission for him to have an orgasm. Creative dominants can require a task first (“Lick my boots!”) or administer ten strokes of the paddle before permission is given. Orgasm control is a ritual that not only reinforces the dominant/submissive dynamic but is also such a fun power game to play!

Speaking of denying permission, orgasm denial is another form of control—one that’s a bit more devious (and, yes, even sadistic). When the submissive asks for permission, your answer is confident and resounding: “No.” You can do it as a correction, punishment, or just to see the look on her face. Denying orgasm makes a submissive squirm, squeal, beg, plead, all while getting more turned on in the process. It’s a great way to take someone to the edge of climax, then flip the switch. You get bonus points for incorporating sex toys into this game, like vibrators, Kegel balls (also called Ben Wa balls), dildos, or butt plugs—since they’ll make it even more difficult for her to not come. It’s another kind of tease and torment sure to drive her crazy, where the reward—a much- anticipated orgasm when you say so—is even sweeter. Or perhaps the reward is delayed, a few hours or a few days.

On the other end of the spectrum is the forced orgasm. Let me start with a disclaimer: if your partner has trouble achieving orgasm, this is not the game to play. It could create tension, anxiety, shame, and fear, and that’s not what we’re after at all. But if your partner is reliably orgasmic, then this is another fun way to control her. Think of it as making your partner have an orgasm on demand. When you feel like she’s getting close (or she has told you she is, as instructed), you can demand that she come. Or you can put her in some nice bondage, then strap a vibrator to her clitoris, so she has no choice but to come. The dominant gets to call the shots, the submissive gets to follow the command and come: win- win!


Tristan Taormino is an award-winning author, sex educator, film maker and radio host. She is the author of more than seven books including The Secrets of Great G-Spot Orgasms and Female Ejaculation, The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women, and Opening Up: A Guide to Creating and Sustaining Open Relationships. She is the editor of more than 25 anthologies, as well as being the creator and series editor of the Best Lesbian Erotica anthology series. Her books have sold over 500,000 copies.

You can buy 50 Shades of Kink from:

Cleis Press





Elust #57 – hottest sex on the net!

Elust #57 Cammies on the Floor Image

Photo courtesy of Cammies on the Floor

Welcome to Elust #57

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #58? Start with the rules, come back May 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

I’ve Got 99 Problems

Vasectomy Blues

I’ve always wanted to call myself queer.


~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Aoyama Yuki and My Very First Times

I don’t know how to be happy


~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Sex News,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Prostitution Laundering
That Body-safe Sex Toy Could Make You Sick
“Nice Shoes. Wanna Fuck?” — On Pick Up Lines
Rape prevention
Life of a Sheltered Child: Sex Toys (Part II)
A Tour of Fucking Sculptures Sex Toy Studio
Bashing Belle Knox: Because You GET Porn
Would You Pay $133 to See Midori Eat Fruit?

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Heart of Glass
Talking BDSM: Are safewords really necessary?
45 Seconds
I want
Whispered Words
Aftercare: In Kink and Erotica
Ariel Castro: The Man in the Mirror?
We Are Ethical
Apology tokens, punishments, and forgiveness

Erotic Fiction

Very Short Stories – If We Hadn’t Had Sex
Larry Knew Better
Lasting Impressions
The Boys
Sounds of a Kitten
Chemical (se)X
Shopping Together
Enjoy Being Seduced on the South Bank
Room 6
Caught In The Act
Packing Light
For your thighs only (007 Parody)

Erotic Non-Fiction

Dental Torture
My hand around your throat
Conversations With My Owner
Cuming Without You.
On My Knees Again
It Always Starts With A Kiss
World Champion, Yes, I Can!
Omne Trium Perfectum
When Good Sex Tapes Go Bad
Submission: An Initiation (Part Four)

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Hidden No More
Female condoms are fucking awesome!
Female Ejaculation and How to Achieve It
Mommy Doesn’t Want Sex
How To Train Your Vagina
Camp Dildo
Being slut shamed made me want more sex
Don’t say my name


“Hidden” memes
A Brief History of Sex Blogging

Writing About Writing

Openings and Grabbing Your Reader


Sense Memory – a Lusty Limerick


ELust Site Badge

Want to join Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Mile High Club?


Buckle up, strap down and put your seat in the upright position – we’re about to take off for a flight of fancy! Rachel Kramer Bussel is inviting you to join the Mile High Club with her latest Cleis Press anthology, High Flying. Destination? Nowhere in particular – it’s just an exercise in revving up your engines!

FlyingHigh_hiresAs usual, Miss Kramer Bussel has gathered together some of the most talented erotica writers around and this time she’s tasked them writing sex on a plane. And, as there’s nothing I love more than a bad pun, I’m delighted to say they’ve reached new heights. More seriously, there’s a lot to like about this book. Firstly, the cover’s cute – though whenever I try to hang my feet out in the aisle, some trolly dolly threatens to mow them down with the drinks cart! Next, the table of contents is like a roll call for fabulous writing, featuring Alison Tyler, Rachel herself, Kristina Wright, Cheyenne Blue, Donna George Storey, Thomas S Roche, Elizabeth Caldwell, Sommer Marsden, Teresa Noelle Roberts, Bill Kte’pi, Zach Lindley, Desiree, Jeremy Edwards, Matt Conklin, Vanessa Vaughn, Craig J Sorensen, Stan Kent, Geneva King and Ryan Field. So now you know you’re in for some fun!

Despite the limitations of the theme, there’s plenty of variety between these covers. Craig J Sorensen finds a novel use for a banana, Jeremy Edwards invents a whole new flight class, Sommer Marsden finds new meaning in the term ‘scream queen’, while Kristina Wright revisits first love, or should I say, lust. All in all, the pilots, the passengers and the flight crew simply can’t keep their hands off each other once they reach 30,000 feet.

Here’s a teaser from Donna George Storey’s Nasty Little Habit to encourage you to book your ticket…I mean buy the book!


He begins to strum.

Each stroke of his finger sends sparks sizzling through my pussy. My cheeks burn and I’m trying so hard not to moan, my ribs ache. I squeeze Paul’s wrist to steady myself but – devilishly – he only quickens the pace. There’s no turning back now, because I’m a slave to that jiggling finger. I’m a horny slut who wants it so bad, she’ll let a stranger finger her twat on an airplane, yes, she’ll let him rub her wet, swollen pussy until she comes, which is just what I’m doing right now, yes, I’m coming all over Paul’s hand. I grit my teeth to hold back the scream rising from my belly, ricocheting through my body as my ass jerks rhythmically into the cushion.

Amazon US

Cleis Press

Welcome to the Mile High Club – I hope you’ve enjoyed your flight!



Smut for Good – Curves Rule!



Prize draw now closed

He watched her sleeping. She’d kicked the sheets away in the heat of the tropical night and now, as dawn broke and the screeches of the macaws invaded his sleep, he lay motionless at her side, drinking in the magnificence of her naked form.
A fine sheen of perspiration caught the light, exaggerating the contours of her breasts, belly and thighs—a creamy landscape he’d explored so thoroughly the previous evening. Beads of sweat trickled down the gully between her heavy breasts and he was conflicted between his urge to catch them with his tongue and his desire not to wake her. To simply lie and watch the rise and fall of her chest and listen to the soft sigh of her breathing.
She rolled in her sleep, turning away from him, presenting him with the outward jut of her muscular buttocks. He caught the smell of her sex as her thighs rubbed lightly together and it reminded him of last night. He could still taste her in his mouth and he breathed in deeply, enjoying the sensation as his cock grew hard.
He reached out with his hand to find the moist warmth at the juncture between her thighs and buttocks. She moaned in her sleep and pushed back against him.

(From a work in progress)

Smut for Good: Curves Rule is a blog hop with prizes galore to raise funds for Parkinson’s UK as this is Parkinson’s Awareness week. Please leave a comment below to be entered into a prize draw for a copy of my latest release, Her Boss & His Client.

To find more curves, and seek out further prizes please visit http://smutters.co.uk/smut-for-good and if you can take a minute to please visit the Smut for Good: Curves Rule Just Giving Page at http://www.justgiving.com/curvesrule and donate whatever you can to help us reach our target of £100 to raise awareness of Parkinson’s and to support the charity Parkinson’s UK http://www.parkinsons.org.uk/ who help those with the disease learn to cope with the challenges, give out information and search for a cure.