Showing posts with label Body Electric. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Body Electric. Show all posts

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Back List Blast: D&S Duos Book 1 - #BDSM #ElectricPlay #Giveaway #BackListBlast


D&S Duos Book 1 cover

Back to BDSM today – seems that I can’t stay away for long! – with a bit from D&S Duos: Book 1. The four D&S Duos volumes each offer two of my most intense and emotional stories involving power exchange. The first book includes “Body Electric” and “Limits: A Love Story”.

Leave me a comment and you could win a copy of the book, or maybe even the grand prize – a $25 bookstore gift certificate!

D&S Duos Book 1
M/F BDSM erotica

D&S Duos Book 1 combines two of Lisabet Sarai's hottest BDSM short stories into one sizzling package. In "Body Electric", a professor of engineering charms his female colleague into experiments on the erotic effects of electricity. In "Limits", an established Master/slave couple push their relationship to next level of trust - blood sports. Also includes a searing excerpt from Lisabet's BDSM erotic thriller Bangkok Noir.

Excerpt

The thing in his hands looked like something from a 1940's horror film. It had a handle, topped with a mushroom-shaped globe of glass that glowed with a malevolent purple light. Inside the glass, bright sparks danced. Their images flickered on the wall next to the bed.

Slowly, he brought the bulb closer to my bare flesh. The crackling noise grew more intense. He hovered above my nipple. "Don't move," he whispered.

All at once a rain of sparks shot from the tube to the taut node of flesh. I was being pierced with a thousand needles. I screamed, as much from surprise as from the pain. Ryan pulled the device away, as I tried to catch my breath.

"Colette?"

"Sorry, Doctor. I wasn't expecting..." Before I could finish, his mouth was on my recently assaulting nipple, lapping and sucking, soaking my skin with his hot saliva. I felt every movement of his tongue deep in my cunt. When he brought the glowing globe close again, I thought I was ready. This time, though, the sparks were stronger, hotter, more painful. Electricity crawled over my breast, wherever he had left traces of wetness.

Before I could recover, he was sparking my other nipple. I jumped and squirmed. My cunt contracted with each contact. He stroked my stomach. "You're all sweaty," he said. The thing sputtered and popped. Miniature bolts of lightning showered down on my navel. "And your thighs are smeared with cunt-juice..." He swept the wand slowly over my body and a long trail of sparks stitched up the sensitive skin toward my gaping sex.

"I've always been fascinated by electricity," he said in a conversational tone as the bulb approached my cunt. I tensed, waiting for the jolt I knew would come. Nothing could have prepared me for the raw sensations. Sparks danced on my clit and sputtered among my wet folds. I screamed again, overwhelmed, confused as to whether I was in terrible pain or close to climax.

My tormentor paused. "I didn't invent this handy little device, but I've made a few modifications. For example, I can turn up the power, or increase the frequency. Or make the variations random. Would you like that?"

All I could do was moan.

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Be sure to leave a comment. Otherwise you can’t win!

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Body Electric - #BDSM #Electricity #MFRWHooks

Book Hooks banner

I’ve been away for the past two weekshope you have all been enjoying yourselves! Just got back yesterday, a few hours before the Book Hooks deadline.

This hook is from my story “Body Electric”, one of two BDSM erotic romance tales in D&S Duos Book 1. I have four volumes in this series, each (as suggested by the series title) including two tales of power exchange. These books tend more toward “literary” erotica, but almost all have at least a hint of romance. Many focus on relationships between committed couples. 

 

In "Body Electric", a professor of engineering charms his female colleague into experiments on the erotic effects of electricity. In "Limits", the second tale in this volume, a long-established kinky couple push their relationship to next level of trust.

You can get a copy of the book here:




Here’s the hook:

He didn't look like an engineer. He smiled and postured and gestured expansively as if reciting poetry or making a speech. Half a dozen females surrounded him, hanging on his every word. Periodically the little knot of women (which even included crusty old Margaret Evans) would burst into self-conscious laughter. Dean Evans would look around nervously, then return her attentive gaze to the towering shaggy-haired orator in their midst, as if he were a combination of Tom Cruise and Mahatma Gandhi.

A politician, or a TV celebrity, or even the leader of cult – I could readily believe that he was any of these as I watched him fascinate his listeners. But an assistant professor from the department of electrical engineering? Highly implausible. But true nevertheless. Earlier in the evening, my colleague Loren had given me a full briefing. Dr. Ryan Moresby was apparently a brilliant teacher, a talented inventor, and a rising star in his department. In addition, Loren emphasized, he was single, which was surprising considering his obvious talent in attracting the opposite sex. Of course, why would someone with that kind of charisma want to settle down?

I wondered idly how many of the women in that little circle of his he had bedded, then gave myself a mental slap on the hand. I had to stop thinking like that! Ever since I completed my dissertation, I had found myself speculating on other people's secret lives and desires. My research on women's erotic literature was, of course, impeccably scholarly, serious and restrained, carefully purged of any salacious elements. My sources, though, were anything but. Their enduring influence on my thoughts was only too clear.

~ ~ ~

I hope you’ll drop by to visit the other authors participating in this week’s Book Hooks hop!




Friday, April 8, 2016

Back List Blast: D&S Duos Book 1 (#bdsm #erotic #electricplay)



Get your copy today! Amazon B&N Excessica


The thing in his hands looked like something from a 1940's horror film. It had a handle, topped with a mushroom-shaped globe of glass that glowed with a malevolent purple light. Inside the glass, bright sparks danced. Their images flickered on the wall next to the bed.

Slowly, he brought the bulb closer to my bare flesh. The crackling noise grew more intense. He hovered above my nipple. "Don't move," he whispered.

All at once a rain of sparks shot from the tube to the taut node of flesh. I was being pierced with a thousand needles. I screamed, as much from surprise as from the pain. Ryan pulled the device away, as I tried to catch my breath.

"Colette?"

"Sorry, Doctor. I wasn't expecting..." Before I could finish, his mouth was on my recently assaulting nipple, lapping and sucking, soaking my skin with his hot saliva. I felt every movement of his tongue deep in my cunt. When he brought the glowing globe close again, I thought I was ready. This time, though, the sparks were stronger, hotter, more painful. Electricity crawled over my breast, wherever he had left traces of wetness.

Before I could recover, he was sparking my other nipple. I jumped and squirmed. My cunt contracted with each contact. He stroked my stomach. "You're all sweaty," he said. The thing sputtered and popped. Miniature bolts of lightning showered down on my navel. "And your thighs are smeared with cunt-juice..." He swept the wand slowly over my body and a long trail of sparks stitched up the sensitive skin toward my gaping sex.

"I've always been fascinated by electricity," he said in a conversational tone as the bulb approached my cunt. I tensed, waiting for the jolt I knew would come. Nothing could have prepared me for the raw sensations. Sparks danced on my clit and sputtered among my wet folds. I screamed again, overwhelmed, confused as to whether I was in terrible pain or close to climax.

My tormenter paused. "I didn't invent this handy little device, but I've made a few modifications. For example, I can turn up the power, or increase the frequency. Or make the variations random. Would you like that?"

All I could do moan.

Sunday, January 4, 2015

Sunday Snog #156, New Release and Contest


Today I'm celebrating the release of Book One in my D&S Duos series, available now from Excessica. I'll be publishing a bunch more of this little gems, each of which contains two extremely hot BDSM short stories.

My kiss excerpt today is from "Body Electric", one of the two tales in Book One. I hope you enjoy it!

And what's a celebration without prizes? You could win your choice of either The Understudy or Mastering Maya - both BDSM erotic romance.  Just leave a comment with your email address below. In your comment, tell me about what you enjoy in a BDSM story. (Or tell me don't like BDSM - that's okay too!)

And when you're finished with my snog and the giveaway, don't forget to visit Snog Central to read more sexy kisses from your favorite authors.




Should I – do I have to call you Master?" He grinned at me. I thought I'd die of embarrassment.

"Do you want to?"

"Um – I don't think so. It would seem artificial."

"Well, then. It's your choice, you know. This is all your choice."

I couldn't believe that. I felt compelled by him, controlled by his will, ensnared by his lecherous mind.

"Why don't you just address me as 'Sir'? Or better yet, how about 'Doctor'?" His smile was half-mocking, half-gentle. "How would that be?"

"That would be fine – Doctor."

"Excellent. But you shouldn't say anything unless I give you permission. You know that, don't you?"

I nodded. This seemed like the natural order of things.

"Good. Now, then. Let's get rid of those clothes."

I began to unbutton my blouse. "No, don't move. I’ll undress you, this time."

He undid the first three buttons and pulled the garment open to reveal my unglamorous cotton bra. He brushed his fingertips over my swollen nipples, clearly visible as they poked out the fabric. Pleasure shivered across my skin and down to my already-aching pussy.

"You have such lovely big nipples. So sensitive." He pinched the right one. I gasped. "I don't want you to wear a bra anymore. I want everyone to be able to see those luscious tits of yours."

"But, when I teach... It's not proper..."

"Did I say you could speak?" He frowned briefly. I wanted to drop through the floor.

"If you want to please me, you'll go braless. It's up to you."

I was silent. I craved his approval, more than anything.

He laid a cool palm against my cheek. "What other people think doesn't matter, Colette. You only need to worry about me."

All at once he leaned down and kissed me. I expected brashness, energy, power. Instead it was a gossamer kiss, delicate, the barest contact of his lips on mine.

It set me on fire. Tremors raced through my body. I felt his hands everywhere, exploring, exposing my raw need. I felt his mind, questing, tasting the flavors of my lust. Yet only his lips were touching me, and just barely.

I wanted more. I wanted his tongue, his fingers. I wanted his cock, which I knew was hard though I hadn't seen it. I was acutely aware of his lust, controlled and hidden as it was. I tried to press my body against him, but he pulled away.

"Not yet. Not until you're ready." He resumed the process of methodically removing my clothes. He did not touch me again. I could swear that he was trying to frustrate me. I promised myself that I wouldn't beg.

******

Buy now from Amazon US or Amazon UK! The book will be available within the next few days at other bookstores.

Don't forget to leave your comment!

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Sunday Snog #141: For Sommer


Today's Sunday Snog is special. We're combining forces today to support our fellow erotic author Sommer Marsden, both morally (yes, we smut-mongers care about morality) and financially. Sommer, who writes deliciously seductive fiction, much of it featuring power exchange, is going through a rough time as her husband battles pancreatic cancer. The ever-vibrant Victoria Blisse has organized today's campaign, encouraging everyone to share some erotic excerpts and to raise some cash to help Sommer and her family.

Each author (fifty three of us, last time I went to count!) is doing things a bit differently. Here's my deal.

I've got a sexy kiss (BDSM, of course) from my short story "Body Electric" for you below. Read the excerpt and leave me a comment with your email address. I will enter you to win a copy of my BDSM erotic romance, The Understudy

Meanwhile, I will throw $1 into the pot of donations for each comment I receive.

And if you'd like to donate on your own, just go to http://smutforgood.co.uk. It's easy as pie, and any amount is welcome.

Here's the excerpt. Enjoy! And thanks for visiting.

******
My room was dim, lit only by the lamp on my bureau. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the floor, at a loss, while Ryan reconnoitered. My clit was still tingling from his brief exploration. My juices dribbled lazily down the insides of my thighs.

"I think I see how to manage this. Lie down here."

He rummaged in his case while I arranged myself on the bed. He held up a thick coil of cotton clothesline. A stab of fear distracted me from my arousal. Fantasizing about bondage was fine, but could I really allow him to do this?

"I am going to tie you to the bed, Colette, unless you tell me to stop. You don't have to be afraid. I've done this many times before."

Jealousy flared up, replacing the fear. Who else had he used the way he was using me?

"So, I'm just another conquest for you?" Ryan looked surprised at my outburst. He sat down beside me on the bed and took my hand.

"No, of course not. You know better than that. You know that you're special."

"I'm sure that you tell every one of your women that."

"But it's true. I knew it the moment I saw you. You have a precious gift, a sexual intensity that you can't hide, though you try. A craving for the extremes of sensation. Overwhelming curiosity and insatiable appetite. The rare ability to surrender completely to pleasure."

His touch was making me weak, but I still tried to resist.

"In the stories, the doms always say that. They know how to push the right buttons. They seduce their victims into thinking that there's something magical and deep about their interaction. When after all, it's just sex -- kinky, perverted, but in the final analysis, just sex."

"Just sex?" Ryan leaped onto the bed, straddling my body, pinning my wrists to the sheets with his huge hands. Then he kissed me with a ferocity that literally took my breath away. His tongue forced its way into my mouth and tangled with mine. He gnawed at my lips, mashing them against my teeth. I tasted blood.

I struggled against him for a moment, then relaxed and let his mouth ravage me. With that release came pleasure so acute that it washed away all thought. I was floating in a sea of pleasure: the tingling in my nipples where his shirt rubbed against them; the sparks flashing across my belly from the pressure of his hidden cock; the exquisite contractions rippling through the depths of my cunt.

I writhed against him, unable to control myself, not caring what he thought or what he did. I opened myself to the pleasure and let it take me away.

"'And if the body does not do as much as the Soul? And if the body were not the Soul, what is the Soul?'"

Ryan had relinquished my mouth and was peering down at me. His long black hair half-obscured his blazing eyes.

I gasped for breath. "Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass." The pleasure had subsided somewhat, but I knew that it lay waiting for me to claim it again.

"Yes. 'Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth, the atmosphere and the clouds, and what was expected of heaven or fear'd of hell, are now consumed.' That's what he was talking about, you know. Sex. 'Just' sex."

I nodded. I knew.

"Let me bind you, Colette."

I nodded again.


******

Don't forget to comment! Help yourself, and Sommer too!


Sunday, April 13, 2014

Sunday Snog #121: Quiet Evening at Home (M/F/F)

Happy Sunday! Today I've got a F/F oral moment from my short story "Quiet Evening at Home", one of the tales in my collection Body Electric.  The book is currently being  featured in a Kindle Countdown at both Amazon and Amazon UK.  The price starts at 99 cents/99 pence and goes up day by day. The sooner you buy, the more you save!

When you've recovered from my snog, please visit Blisse Kiss Central for lots more oral action!



"Lucia," I said, somewhat breathless. "Why don't you take over? I need to make myself more comfortable." Roughly, I pulled my blouse off and began unzipping my jeans.

"Delighted," she said. She stood in front of Michael, thighs spread wide. I knew she was bare underneath her brief skirt. From half a room away I could smell the aroma of her sex; I knew that Michael would be drowning in it.

"What do you say, Mike? Should I spank you for a while?"

He just looked at her, his sweat-damp hair falling into his eyes. Helpless with lust. I knew exactly how he felt.

She strutted off into the kitchen area on her spike heels. Michael and I both followed her every movement with our eyes. She returned with a wooden spoon, which she showed to our shackled lover.

His eyes widened with fear.

"No, Lucia, please! I can't take it!"

"Of course you can, Mike. You're a big, strong man. Strong enough to satisfy two women, right?"

"But I'm already so sore..."

"Sorry, but I really don't want to wreck my fingernails..."

I watched with fascination as Lucia began to use the spoon to belabor poor Michael's crimson buttocks. He yelled and twisted, trying to get away from her blows, but to no avail.

"Hush, Mike, more quietly please. We don't want the neighbors calling the police about some domestic dispute." However, she dropped the spoon and began to spank him with her open palms, first one hand, then the other.

My clothes scattered on the floor, I sat on the couch and watched the tableau unfold. Lucia was magnificent. Michael was reduced to whimpering and twitching feebly with each slap.

My fingers crept into the hungry cleft between my thighs. My sex was a raging furnace.

It seemed to go on a long while, but sexual arousal does distort time. I should mention that Michael was still hugely tumescent. Finally, Lucia stopped.

"I think that's enough. For now." She glanced over to where I lay on the couch, legs splayed, both hands busy in my cunt. A smile dawned on her dark features like a tropical sunrise.

"However, I have an idea for another, gentler punishment." She rotated the bar stool so that Michael could see me on the couch.

"See what you're missing, Mike? You know, you really don't give us the appreciation we deserve." Slithering down next to me, she kissed me long and deeply. My heart leaped; I wasn't going to scare her away, that was for sure.

She scooped her breasts out of the cups of the bustier and fed me her ripe nipples, one at a time. I trailed my tongue down her neck, marveling at her silky skin, wallowing in her perfume. Soon she was as naked as I was, and all was fingers, tongues, musk and salt. Soon time stopped.

After a long while, I raised my head from Lucia's delightfully curly bush to look over at Michael. I'll give him credit. His swollen cock looked purple and painful, but he hadn't come. His eyes silently pleaded with me.

"Maybe we'll let you loose soon, Michael," I called to him. "We don't really need you, but a hard cock might turn out to have its uses." He brightened visibly and I gave him a grin. "Meanwhile, I really must compliment you on your excellent taste in women." I buried my face back in Lucia's sweet cunt.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Five Ways to Save Money!

I'm a bargain hunter - third generation. I was only six the first time my grandmother took me to the original Filene's Basement in downtown Boston and explained to me that I should never pay full price for something if I could get it at a discount. If you've never heard of FB, it was this cavernous, complicated space under one of Boston's most chic department stores, where you could get top-quality, name-brand clothing and accessories for a fraction of what it would cost on the floors above. Tables piled high with dresses, skirts, slacks and blouses - seconds, odd lots, manufacturers close-outs; rickety racks of fancy shoes; tuxedos and fur coats; and a crowd rummaging through it all with cut-throat intentions, looking for the deals of the day.

Filene's "automatic reduction" policy was addictive. After  a week, the price dropped by 25%. Two weeks, and you'd pay only half the original price (which normally would have started out lower than the original price anyway). Three weeks unsold meant the price was a quarter of where it started. And at thirty days - if you found something that had been around that long - the merchandise was given away.

I loved it. I came back on my own, as a teen and as an adult, seeking the holy grail - great style, perfect fit, and miniscule price. More often than not I came away empty handed, but every now and again I'd strike it lucky. Either way it was exciting.

Anyway, Amazon has something a bit like Filene's automatic discounts, only it works in the other direction. Kindle Countdown Deals go on for three to five days, during a well-specified date range (though I'm never sure what time zone they use). A book on a Kindle Countdown starts at a really low price - 99 cents for books at Amazon US. Over the course of the countdown days, the price climbs back up toward the regular level. So this is definitely the case of the early bird chowing down on the worm.
 
Five of my books from Books We Love will be on Kindle Countdown over the next few weeks. If you've been tempted to read Spank Me Again Stranger, Body Electric, Bangkok Noir, Nasty Business or Exposure, but not quite ready to shell out the cash, here's your chance to get your very own copies - cheap! To help you get the most of this deal, I've created a handy little table below. The deals are gooing on between today and the first week in May, so bookmark this page for handy reference!

I've included buy links and to excerpts, too - just to make it easy. Don't miss this chance to save some of your hard-earned dough, and get some great reading besides!


Site URLStartEnd
Amazon.comApril 3, 2014April 10, 2014
Amazon.co.ukApril 4, 2014April 11, 2014
Read an excerpt
Site URLStartEnd
Amazon.comApril 11, 2014April 17, 2014
Amazon.co.ukApril 11, 2014April 17, 2014
Read an excerpt
Site URLStartEnd
Amazon.comApril 18, 2014April 24, 2014
Amazon.co.ukApril 18, 2014April 24, 2014
Read an excerpt
Site URLStartEnd
Amazon.comApril 25, 2014May 1, 2014
Amazon.co.ukApril 25, 2014May 1, 2014
Read an excerpt
Site URLStartEnd
Amazon.comMay 2, 2014May 8, 2014
Amazon.co.ukMay 2, 2014May 8, 2014
Read an excerpt

Monday, February 10, 2014

Love, Sex and Submission


Welcome to the Valentine's Day Gift Hop as we celebrate love, sex, and all things books! Our grand prizes are a Kindle Paperwhite and a digital new adult romance basket. Every comment on every blog in the hop will count as an entry toward either of the grand prizes. Each blogger will also be giving away an individual prize. For information on what you could win from me, read on!

So Skye Warren, the marvelous organizer of this hop, has suggested we discuss something related to love and romance as a way of getting you all in the mood for Friday. When I considered what I personally find most romantic, the answer was easy: dominance and submission. 

I'm not a part of the BDSM "scene". I don't practice "lifestyle" BDSM. However, I've experienced one extremely intense, long-term D/s relationship that profoundly changed my world view and that influenced me to begin writing erotica about  fourteen years ago. Since then I've written many books that feature elements of dominance and submission, as well as dozens of short stories. (For a categorized list, visit http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books_index.html).  With my friend S.F. Mayfair, I also co-edited  Sacred Exchange, a collection of stories exploring the spiritual and mystical aspects of dominance and submisssion.

Why do I think love, sex and BDSM go together?  For me, the essence of a D/s relationship lies in the emotional bond between the dominant and the submissive. The physical trappings and conventional activities - the riding crop and the gag, the handcuffs and the nipple clamps, the whippings and the binding - are side issues, merely the methods chosen to express, explore, and strengthen the bond. Others may associate BDSM with humiliation, cruelty, abuse, and agony. In my view, BDSM is about devotion, commitment, trust, and ecstasy.

In a true D/s relationship, there is no coercion. The submissive voluntarily gives up control to the dominant. In return, the dominant accepts responsibility for the submissive's well-being and ultimately, for his or her pleasure. The sub surrenders herself to the Dom, in devotion and trust. (For now I'll assume a female submissive.  I've written both male- and female-dominant tales, as well as some lesbian D/s, but it gets awkward to keep using multiple pronouns!) The Dom can do whatever he wants with the sub; she has, after all, given her consent. He has the intoxicating knowledge that by taking what he desires, he will also give his sub what she most craves: the satisfaction of pleasing her master and the freedom to experience her most intimate fantasies of ravishment and abuse.

Let me give you an example, from my very first novel Raw Silk.

****

He carried her over to the bed and laid her down on her back. "“Lift your arms above your head,"” he commanded.

As she complied, her hand brushed against something, dangling from the headboard. She turned to look at the braided ropes of red silk, fastened to the rattan spokes, and suddenly understood why Gregory had disappeared when she first arrived. A few things to attend to, he had said. So he had left her with his lady co-conspirator, trusting his comrade and the performance to inflame Kate”s senses and imagination, while he came and installed these bonds.

 Gregory watched the comprehension dawning in her eyes. “

"Yes, Kate. I prepared these for you. Only for you."

He leaned closer. "“I want to tie you here, hand and foot, so that you will be more completely at my disposal. I believe that you want that, too. But you must tell me so. I will not do this without your permission.”"

Kate was silent. She had never been so unsure in her life. Fear, suspicion, shame, and distrust warred with curiosity and desire. In his arms she had felt both sheltered and helpless, and she longed for those feelings again. Yet he was essentially a stranger, she reminded herself, a stranger with a shady profession and an unsavory reputation.

When she looked him, though, she saw concern and attentiveness in his eyes, even though his cock still pulsed hugely from his fly. The sight of his manhood sent a delicious weakness through her limbs. I must be crazy, she thought to herself, as she nodded her assent.

“"Do it," she murmured, and did not trust herself to say anymore.

With expert skill, he bound her wrists with the silken braids. "“Silk is a marvelous substance,"” he commented. “"So soft, but incredibly strong. Like you, my little Kate. I know that you can endure much, Kate.  Much more than you would believe.”"

***

But what about the pain? Intense emotional connection, trust, devotion, that all sounds wonderful, but is it worth suffering beneath the lash, enduring the ropes biting into your flesh?

I don't particularly seek out pain (though I understand that some BDSM practitioners do). In any case, pain is a strange thing. It depends on expectations as much as on reality. I have read that native American women did not experience any pain at childbirth because their culture viewed labor and delivery as joyous and easy. (Those of you who are mothers might be skeptical.) In any case, during a D/s scene, when you are unbelievably turned-on,  pain does not necessarily feel bad. For one thing, elevated levels of endorphins  decrease pain sensitivity levels. Whip strokes and spankings stimulate the senses - it is the mind that translates them as pleasure or pain, or sometimes both at once.  

Here's another  excerpt, from "Body Electric", in my collection of stories with the same title, that demonstrates this.

***


My legs were spread wide, my cunt-lips stretched open, baring my throbbing clit to tremble in random air currents. The sheet beneath me was soaked with my secretions. Do something, I thought. Anything.

He returned to his attaché case. There was a strange noise, a kind of hissing or snapping. "I thought we might begin with this little gadget."

The thing in his hands looked like something from a 1940's horror film. It had a handle, topped with a mushroom-shaped globe of glass that glowed with a malevolent purple light. Inside the glass, bright sparks danced. Their images flickered on the wall next to the bed.

Slowly, he brought the bulb closer to my bare flesh. The crackling noise grew more intense. He hovered above my nipple. "Don't move," he whispered.

All at once a rain of sparks shot from the tube to the taut node of flesh. I was being pierced with a thousand needles. I screamed, as much from surprise as from the pain. Ryan pulled the device away, as I tried to catch my breath.

"Colette?"

"Sorry, Doctor. I wasn't expecting..." Before I could finish, his mouth was on my recently assaulting nipple, lapping and sucking, soaking my skin with his hot saliva. I felt every movement of his tongue deep in my cunt.

When he brought the glowing globe close again, I thought I was ready. This time, though, the sparks were stronger, hotter, more painful. Electricity crawled over my breast, wherever he had left traces of wetness.

Before I could recover, he was sparking my other nipple. I jumped and squirmed. My cunt contracted with each contact.

He stroked by stomach. "You're all sweaty," he said. The thing sputtered and popped. Miniature bolts of lightning showered down on my navel. "And your thighs are smeared with cunt-juice..." He swept the wand slowly over my body and a long trail of sparks stitched up the sensitive skin toward my gaping sex.

"I've always been fascinated by electricity," he said in a conversational tone as the bulb approached my cunt.

I tensed, waiting for the jolt I knew would come. Nothing could have prepared me for the raw sensations. Sparks danced on my clit and sputtered among my wet folds. I screamed again, overwhelmed, confused as to whether I was in terrible pain or close to climax.

***

Have I convinced you that dominance and submission can be  romantic? If not, perhaps you'd like to read my free story, "An Old-Fashioned Valentine".

Yeah, yeah, I can hear you thinking. That's great but what about the prize?

To make up for having such a long post, I'll give away two prizes:: an autographed print copy of Raw Silk, and an ebook version of Body Electric. Just leave a comment to enter (as well as to enter for your name for the grand prize, of course). I'll draw winners on Sunday the 16th of February.

Happy Hopping! And Happy Valentine's Day!






Friday, October 11, 2013

Body Electric is FREE on Amazon


Just popping in to let you know that my diverse erotic short story collection Body Electric is free on Amazon, today through Monday. Click here to get your copy!

http://www.amazon.com/Body-Electric-ebook/dp/B004OA5YXA/

Just to whet your appetite, you'll find an excerpt from the title story below. Enjoy!

"Should I -- do I have to call you Master?" He grinned at me. I thought I'd die of embarrassment.
"Do you want to?"
"Um -- I don't think so. It would seem artificial."
"Well, then. It's your choice, you know. This is all your choice."
I couldn't believe that. I felt compelled by him, controlled by his will, ensnared by his lecherous mind.
"Why don't you just address me as 'Sir'? Or better yet, how about 'Doctor'?" His smile was half-mocking, half-gentle. "How would that be?"
"That would be fine -- Doctor."
"Excellent. But you shouldn't say anything unless I give you permission. You know that, don't you?"
I nodded. This seemed like the natural order of things.
"Good. Now, then. Let's get rid of those clothes."
I began to unbutton my blouse. "No, don't move. I’ll undress you, this time."
He undid the first three buttons and pulled the garment open to reveal my unglamorous cotton bra. He brushed his fingertips over my swollen nipples, clearly visible as they poked out the fabric. Pleasure shivered across my skin and down to my already-aching pussy.
"You have such lovely big nipples. So sensitive." He pinched the right one. I gasped. "I don't want you to wear a bra anymore. I want everyone to be able to see those luscious tits of yours."
"But, when I teach... It's not proper..."
"Did I say you could speak?" He frowned briefly. I wanted to drop through the floor.
"If you want to please me, you'll go braless. It's up to you."
I was silent. I craved his approval, more than anything.
He laid a cool palm against my cheek. "What other people think doesn't matter, Colette. You only need to worry about me."
All at once he leaned down and kissed me. I expected brashness, energy, power. Instead it was a gossamer kiss, delicate, the barest contact of his lips on mine.
It set me on fire. Tremors raced through my body. I felt his hands everywhere, exploring, exposing my raw need. I felt his mind, questing, tasting the flavors of my lust. Yet only his lips were touching me, and just barely.
I wanted more. I wanted his tongue, his fingers. I wanted his cock, which I knew was hard though I hadn't seen it. I was acutely aware of his lust, controlled and hidden as it was. I tried to press my body against him, but he pulled away.
"Not yet. Not until you're ready." He resumed the process of methodically removing my clothes. He did not touch me again. I could swear that he was trying to frustrate me. I promised myself that I wouldn't beg.





Sunday, July 14, 2013

Sunday Snog #86: Fourth World

Today's snog is from my vampire ménage short story "Fourth World", available in my collection Body Electric. Just to warn you - it's not a nice story and definitely not a romance. It's hot, though!

When you get through here, head over to Victoria's Sunday Snog page for links to lots more kisses, some romantic, some naughty, some (most likely) downright filthy!



She keeps her body pressed against ours in the lift. To my surprise she hits the button for the car park. I’d assumed that we would take a cab. The trip down takes forever. I find it difficult to breathe. Surreptitiously, I check the mirror. Is my boner visible?

Her eyes meet mine in the glass. Her full lips curl into a knowing smile. There’s something odd about her reflection. It wavers, flickering in and out of focus. I shake my head and the effect disappears. I must be more drunk than I thought.

As we exit from the lift lobby, still arm in arm in arm, a monstrous black Mercedes glides up to the curb. The door swings open. “Get in, please,” she purrs. I slide across the tooled leather, impressed despite myself. Mai, in the middle, cuddles up to me. She pulls Jeremy closer. The automobile floats up the helical ramp and out of the garage, nearly silent. There’s a tinted glass barrier. I can’t see the driver. Mai flicks her tongue over my earlobe, sending a bolt of lightning to my groin, then makes a wet trail down the side of my neck.

I smell her perfume, jasmine edged with something sharper, less sweet. My heart slams against my ribs. “Who are you?” She must be someone’s daughter or wife, a general or a politician. Or maybe the latest pop sensation, though her classic style argues that she’s older than her body would suggest.

“I’m nobody. Just a woman looking for a good time. Sanuk sabai. You understand?”

“Yes, but...”

“Hush, Harry. You talk too much. You should be more like your friend. A man of action.”

I turn to see Jeremy’s hand wandering up her silk-clad thigh. I’m surprised by his daring. Back at school he was always the shy one in our crowd. I was the one who took the initiative.

His eyes are closed, his lips parted. His trousers rise up from his groin in an imposing peak. Mai cups his bulk and squeezes. Jeremy groans. His hand slips under her skirt.

Jealousy sizzles through me. A red mist clouds my vision. “Never mind,” says Mai, her hand on my thigh, her lips fastening on mine.

Her kiss claims me. I try to take control, to thrust my tongue between her ripe lips, but she playfully forces me back, then plunders my mouth with her own. She tastes sweet but strange, the fruity remnants of her wine not quite hiding a metallic element. My cock surges, painful and eager, trapped in my tight briefs.

Blinded by the fall of her hair around my face, I grope for her breast. Her flesh is firm and elastic under my fingers. Her nipple juts through flimsy barrier of her dress. I circle it with my thumb and she moans into my mouth. I pinch the delightful nub and she bites my lip, hard enough to draw blood. I want to protest, to push her away, but she’s far stronger than I expect. Her kiss becomes more heated, more desperate. My pierced lip throbs. Something’s not right, I think, but then her hand settles on my cock and all thought vanishes.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Sunday Snog: Something Borrowed

Today's kiss is from my short story "Something Borrowed", one of the tales in my extremely eclectic collection Body Electric.  This M/M/F tale was based on a real life experience - but I'm not going to tell you how much is true and how much is the product of my very active imagination!

When you're done with my snog, please visit Victoria's Sunday Snog page for links to lots more succulent kisses!


The song stretched out forever. Gradually I relaxed into Mark’s embrace, allowing him to take the lead. We moved together, each step flowing into the next, like one being. Everything felt so very right. I was high on the way we fit together, the way I responded to his subtlest cue. Effervescent joy leavened my lust. This was something new, something more than just physical.

I peered up at him. His half-smile, the light dancing in his ocean eyes told me he sensed it, too.

Drunk on his closeness, I didn’t even notice when the music stopped. I was shocked when he released me. My first impulse was to grab him, to press myself against his sweet, lean body once again. I couldn’t bear the loss of contact. Only his firm hand on my shoulder stopped me. He led me back to my chair. I discovered that I was trembling.

Mark seated himself beside me. “Thank you – but I don’t know your name yet.”

I was fascinated by his ripe lips and imagining a kiss. It took me a moment to answer.

“Oh – um – Delia. I’m Delia.”

He caught my hand between his. Blood raced to my clit at the skin-on-skin gesture. “It’s a pleasure, Delia.” 

The sparkle from the cut-glass chandelier overhead reflected in his eyes. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No! No, please, I’m fine.” My other hand was on top of his two. I couldn’t stand the notion of his leaving. I suddenly saw that I was acting uncivilized. Maybe he wanted a drink himself. Perhaps he even wanted to get away from me. “Of course, if you’d like one...”

“No, that’s okay. You just seemed a bit – flushed.” His grin made it perfectly clear that he understood why. I should have been annoyed by his cockiness, but honestly, I wanted him too much.

“Ah – well, it’s a bit warm in here. I expected San Francisco to be cool and damp this time of year.” Right, Delia. Talk about the weather. That’s always a refuge in times of social confusion.

Mark had not released my hand. He brushed a fingertip delicately across my palm. My nipples tightened to the point of pain. “Where are you from?” he asked, tracing a line along the outside of my index finger. I shivered.

“I live in Los Angeles. Santa Monica actually. I teach computer science at UCLA.” I was amazed that I was managing to keep up any kind of discourse. My heart slammed against my ribs and I could feel a dribble of pussy juice inching its way down the inside of my thigh. “Jill was my roommate in college, but we’ve been a bit out of touch. This is the first time I’ve seen her since she moved west.”

“Ah, we’re practically neighbors. I live in Westwood. Junior partner in a law firm.”

A lawyer! I should have known. He was so slick, so sure of himself. But damn it, he was gorgeous.

I made a superhuman effort to pull myself together. Extricating my hand from his, I brushed my damp curls away from my sweaty forehead. “And what about you? How do you know Jill and Dan?”

“I don’t. But my boyfriend Scott – “ Mark gestured toward the dining room, where an athletic blond guy was deep in conversation with Dan – “He’s the best man. I just came along to keep him company.”

For a moment I was sure that the San Andreas fault had finally let go. The earth rocked under my feet. A roaring filled my ears. “Your boyfriend?” I sputtered at last.

“Yes, that’s right.” Mark’s amusement transformed itself into concern as he saw my distress. “Are you alright? Is that a problem?”

I couldn’t look at him. I wanted to sink through the floor. Here I was, creaming over his luscious body and fresh face, imagining that he was my soul mate, for God’s sake, and he was gay!

He cupped my chin and raised my gaze to his. “What’s wrong, Delia? It doesn’t gross you out, does it? The thought of two guys together?”

“No – of course not – it’s just that I thought – I felt – you and me...” I don’t think I’ve ever been so miserable and embarrassed. “I thought you were – interested in me...”

That’s when he kissed me. Wallowing in self-disgust, I didn’t expect the soft brush of his lips against mine, the tease of his tongue flickering across my mouth before he pulled back. I gasped. The fire in my sex flared again at his touch, his taste, the heady scent that swirled around him.

“I am interested. Very much so. I feel like there’s some kind of strong connection between us.”

So he felt it too. “But...”

“I like girls as well as guys. And Scott’s not the jealous type. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”


Sunday, June 3, 2012

A Forbidden Kiss from Opening Night


My snog today comes from my M/M alternative history story, Opening Night.  Set in London in 1887, on the eve of the first performance of Gilbert and Sullivan's opera "Ruddigore", the story dares to imagine what might have happened if a brash young leading man had seduced the brilliant comic lyricist William Gilbert. The story is part of my collection Body Electric, available at Amazon.

Of course, by now I don't have to remind you to visit Victoria Blisse and check out all the other sultry snogs posted by my fellow authors. Because you can never have too many kisses!



It was past ten when a knock woke him from a doze that must have crept up on him despite the fear of nightmares. "Yes, who is it?"
 
His visitor didn't wait to be invited in. "It's me, William. It's Frank."

Gilbert bolted upright, anger providing him with sudden energy. Red boiled behind his eyelids. "What are you doing here? I can't have you here. Get out, this instant."

The younger man shut the door. He sidled over in Gilbert's direction. Gilbert backed away. "I needed to see you, William. To talk to you, about the other afternoon. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you so hard."

"Never mind. Just go away now. Please, go away."

"I apologize for being so rude, so insensitive. I've been wanting you so long, it just seemed natural to say it. To show you. I should have realized how new this would be for you, how shocking." With theatrical grace, Wilson glided to his knees in front of Gilbert, his head bowed. "Forgive me, please."

Gilbert gazed down at Frank's golden curls, gleaming in the harsh electric light. He smelled the man's floral cologne. Damn, his heart was beating like thunder, and there was an uncomfortable tightness in his crotch. Damn, damn, damn.

"Get up," he said gruffly. "Show a bit of self-respect, Wilson."

"Not until I hear you say that I'm forgiven."

"Fine, fine, I forgive you, now get up and go."

Gilbert didn't understand how he did it, but all at once Frank was standing in front of him, face to face, close, much too close. He was taller than Gilbert and had to bend to whisper.

"Thank you, William." Then Gilbert felt the man's mouth on his own. He felt Frank's tongue toying with his mustache, tickling, probing, tentative at first, then bold and confident as Gilbert opened his lips.

Gilbert's resistance melted. Frank's arms encircled him, and Gilbert reciprocated, stirred by the sensation of strength in those young limbs. Frank tasted of horehound and tobacco, masculine and yet sweet. Frank kissed him eagerly, passionately, and from some place he had not known existed, Gilbert responded with equal passion.

He felt the hard, hot lump that he knew was Frank's cock, grinding against his thigh. Somehow this did not terrify or appall him. He welcomed it, exquisitely aware that his own cock was swollen and sensitive.

The dark clouds that had haunted him for the past two days dissolved in the brilliance of Frank's kiss. Gilbert did not think, did not worry or reason or judge. For the first time in a very long time, he simply allowed himself to feel.

Frank brought his hand down to fondle Gilbert's erection. For the briefest instant, Gilbert rejoiced at the touch. Then the weight of reality, the burden of thought, came crashing down upon him.

"No!" Gilbert hissed. "No! Stop. We must stop."

"But, William..." Frank aimed a kiss at him; Gilbert twisted away.

"We cannot do this. I cannot."

Frank dusted a finger lightly over Gilbert's groin. "Oh, I think you can, and quite well, too."

Sunday, May 27, 2012

A D/s Kiss from Body Electric


My Sunday Snog comes from my short story "Body Electric", the lead tale in my collection of the same title. It's pretty brief, but I think it does the job!
If you haven't been there already, go visit Victoria Blisse at Snog Central, read her delicious kiss excerpt (her kisses are always a lot more elaborate than mine!) and then follow the links to more sexy snogging fun!

 
"Should I -- do I have to call you Master?" He grinned at me. I thought I'd die of embarrassment.
"Do you want to?"
"Um -- I don't think so. It would seem artificial."
"Well, then. It's your choice, you know. This is all your choice."
I couldn't believe that. I felt compelled by him, controlled by his will, ensnared by his lecherous mind.
"Why don't you just address me as 'Sir'? Or better yet, how about 'Doctor'?" His smile was half-mocking, half-gentle. "How would that be?"
"That would be fine -- Doctor."
"Excellent. But you shouldn't say anything unless I give you permission. You know that, don't you?"
I nodded. This seemed like the natural order of things.
"Good. Now, then. Let's get rid of those clothes."
I began to unbutton my blouse. "No, don't move. I’ll undress you, this time."
He undid the first three buttons and pulled the garment open to reveal my unglamorous cotton bra. He brushed his fingertips over my swollen nipples, clearly visible as they poked out the fabric. Pleasure shivered across my skin and down to my already-aching pussy.
"You have such lovely big nipples. So sensitive." He pinched the right one. I gasped. "I don't want you to wear a bra anymore. I want everyone to be able to see those luscious tits of yours."
"But, when I teach... It's not proper..."
"Did I say you could speak?" He frowned briefly. I wanted to drop through the floor.
"If you want to please me, you'll go braless. It's up to you."
I was silent. I craved his approval, more than anything.
He laid a cool palm against my cheek. "What other people think doesn't matter, Colette. You only need to worry about me."
All at once he leaned down and kissed me. I expected brashness, energy, power. Instead it was a gossamer kiss, delicate, the barest contact of his lips on mine.
It set me on fire. Tremors raced through my body. I felt his hands everywhere, exploring, exposing my raw need. I felt his mind, questing, tasting the flavors of my lust. Yet only his lips were touching me, and just barely.
I wanted more. I wanted his tongue, his fingers. I wanted his cock, which I knew was hard though I hadn't seen it. I was acutely aware of his lust, controlled and hidden as it was. I tried to press my body against him, but he pulled away.
"Not yet. Not until you're ready." He resumed the process of methodically removing my clothes. He did not touch me again. I could swear that he was trying to frustrate me. I promised myself that I wouldn't beg.
 You can get your own copy of Body Electric at Amazon.com!

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Sunday Snog: Never Too Late

I've got an intense snog for you this Sunday, from the BDSM story "Never Too Late", which is part of my Body Electric collection. And if you like BDSM - get yourself a copy of Just a Spanking, offering lots more dominance and submission with a strong dose of romance.

Don't forget to visit Victoria Blisse at Snog Central for many more sexy snogs -this and every Sunday. After all a Sunday without snogs is like a sundae without whipped cream.

****

I'm outside his room at seven sharp, heart pounding as though I'd run a marathon. What am I doing? I'm fifty five, married nearly three decades. I'm a grandmother, for heaven's sake. The keycard slides into the lock. The light flashes green. I step across the threshold, knowing the risks but unable to stop myself.

He lounges in a chair by the window. The drapes are open. The lights of the Inner Harbor sparkle on the other side of the glass. The room is dim and I'm briefly grateful. Perhaps he will not notice my flaws.

"Good evening, Elizabeth." He doesn't rise. He makes me come to him. I stand before him, eyes cast down, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. Sweat pools under my arms, spoiling my best silk blouse. Moisture gathers in my pussy.

"Um―I don't even know your name," I stutter.

"Yes, you do. Think."

I recreate my memory of him, from that fateful moment when I stepped into the lift and found it occupied. Tall,a bit overweight, but distinguished in his tailored charcoal suit. Black hair, dark eyes, brows that arched in appreciation as he surveyed me. I struggle to recall his badge. Even before he had spoken, I'd been flustered and aroused. Distracted. "Mark?" I say finally, a half guess.

"Good girl. You see, you know more about me than you think you do. You know you can trust me, don't you?"

"What?" Before I understand what's happening, he's looming over me, taking possession of my mouth, rolling my rigid nipples between his finger and thumb and kindling sparks. He tastes of the after-dinner mints they offer in the hotel coffee shop. His hands explore my body, weighing my breasts, groping my ass. Helpless, beyond rationality, I melt again.

"You know instinctively," he murmurs in my ear. "I'm the master you've dreamed of." He nips the tender flesh of the lobe hard enough to make me cry out. "I'm the one who will make you beg for mercy and scream with pleasure."

"No," I say. "I haven't. I can't. I'm married." My pro forma protests are weak, even to my own ears. He is already tearing the clothing from me. The first time his fingers graze my bare skin, electricity sizzles along the surface, down to my cunt. I moan, pressing against his still-clothed body. He chuckles and steps away.

"Turn around. Let me look at you. Especially at that fat ass." My face burns with embarrassment as I follow his instructions. It never occurs to me to object. I feel his eyes on the butt that I can't seem to shrink no matter how many hours I spend on the Stairmaster.

"Lovely," he says and I glow with pride. He is pleased. That's all I seem to need. He strokes my ample backside. When he moves away again, I nearly cry from the loss.