Saturday Spanks Christmas Edition: A Contract for Christmas – #BDSMRomance #HolidayRomance #SaturdaySpanks

The holiday season is upon us. I don’t have a new holiday release – I’ve been busy with my steam punk series The Toymakers Guild – but I can certainly share some of the good parts of my festive tales from previous years.

Here is a steamy bit of BDSM from my story A Contract for Christmas.

Blurb

This Christmas, Santa demands more than milk and cookies.

Isabella plans to surprise her husband and master Greg with an intimate Christmas Eve dinner for two. She’s left with only her fantasies of Greg’s dominance to keep her company, though, when a blizzard strands him at an airport a thousand miles away. Then her husband’s best friend James shows up at her door. Over the past year, Greg has invited James to participate in some of their kinky scenes, but Bella has never been alone with the sexy entrepreneur. Should she let him in and risk surrendering to his quiet authority without her master’s permission?

Greg resolves her doubts in an unexpected phone call, ordering her to fulfill James’s every desire. Ever obedient, Bella complies, and James rewards her with a night of soul-searing pleasure. When Greg returns on Christmas morning, he appears unfazed by her powerful new connection to his friend. Instead, he offers Bella an outrageous gift, one she’s not sure she dares accept.

Spanks!

He captured my feet in matching restraints, then forced my thighs apart so he could bind each ankle to a corner post with Velcro straps. It took no more than sixty seconds for him to immobilize me. As he stood back to admire his handiwork, I wondered for a moment where he’d acquired those skills. Had he and Greg trained as dominants together, or was their mutual interest in kink only a happy coincidence?

Either way, I was the lucky beneficiary.

“Are you comfortable, Bella? No pain?”

In fact my hip joints protested a bit from being spread so wide, but that was a small price to pay for the luscious sense of exposure enforced by this position. The pose elevated my breasts, brazenly presenting my erect nipples. My pussy gaped, displaying my slick, swollen labia and engorged clit. Juices leaked out to drip down the crevice between my ass cheeks, flowing over my still-stretched rear hole. Helpless and horny, I was ready for anything he might want to dish out.

“None that I can’t handle, James.”

“Oh really? Guess I’ll have to ramp up the volume. Just a minute…”

Stripping off his shirt with typical economy and ease, he folded it on the vanity stool. His jeans followed. Before he set them down, he extracted his belt from the waist. “I’m going to want this,” he said, laying it alongside my outstretched body so I could smell the leather. “And these, of course.” He dropped five or six condoms onto the bed table.

I couldn’t help laughing. “How many times do you plan to fuck me, James?”

He kneeled between my legs, his engorged cock bobbing as he moved. “As many times as you can handle, woman.” He picked up the belt, running it over his palm. “Then I’ll fuck you some more.”

He loomed over me, fierce and unsmiling. A burst of fear tingled through me.

“But first, I’ll beat you. Do you agree?”

I closed my eyes, momentarily overwhelmed. No one but Greg had ever inflicted the sort of pain I knew the belt would produce. Even in our three-way scenes, my husband had always taken the lead when it came to punishment. I was scared. What if James couldn’t read my signals? Would he know, the way Greg always did, when I’d had too much?

He sensed my uncertainty, at least. His voice was gentle when he spoke again. “What’s your safe word, Bella?”

“Artichoke. But with Greg I never…”

“Use it if you need to. I think I know you well enough walk that fine line between not enough and too much, but don’t be afraid to stop me if I’m wrong.”

“And if you really don’t want me to whip you,” he added with a grin, “just say so. I have lots of alternative ideas.”

“No, no—I want it—I want your belt—it’s just that you—you…”

“I’m not Greg,” he answered. “I know. But I am your master, at least for tonight. You’ll know that soon.”

Without warning, he brought the belt down just above my right knee. A line of fire stitched its way up my thigh, then jumped to ignite my sex.

“Oh, God—James!—oh—” I bit back my words, afraid he’d misunderstand, that he’d stop. Instead, he lashed at my other thigh, a strong, pure blow that only fanned the conflagration.

I’m not a pain slut like some subs. Mostly I endure the hurt in order to please my master. This beating, though, was different. The leather played across my skin, cutting, bruising, heating me to a fever that was like nothing I’d never felt before. Pain, but somehow not pain—not when I watched the flow of muscle under James’s skin, the graceful arc of the strap as he prepared another stroke, the dark energy dancing in his eyes.

He had perfect control over his instrument. Every lash landed exactly where he intended. For the most part he concentrated on my thighs, but occasionally he’d flick the leather across my nipples. I screamed, thrashed, strained at my bonds, driven higher each time the belt connected with my flesh.

James whipped me into a frenzy. Between my legs the ache built and built, and built some more. I needed to come, more than I needed air. Yet still he whipped me, and I let him. I understood that was what he needed—what only I could give him.

The belt edged closer to my cunt. Dazed and drunk with lust, still I guessed how this would end. Yet his final stroke took me by surprise—the one that kissed my clit and sent me spinning into climax.

Treat yourself to a bit of holiday heat!

Kinky Literature - https://kinkyliterature.com/book/5010-a-contract-for-christmas/

Amazon US - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B019ECGDJ6

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B019ECGDJ6

Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/600663

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/a-contract-for-christmas

B&N – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-contract-for-christmas-lisabet-sarai/1123145816?ean=2940152524987

Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28231652-a-contract-for-christmas

Saturday Spanks: Bound and Breathless -- #BDSM #BoxedSet #SaturdaySpanks

It’s been ages since I did a Saturday Spanks post. Since I just released a BDSM boxed set, though, this seemed an appropriate weekend. Enjoy!

About Bound and Breathless

Agony that burns - until it sets you alight with pleasure

For some people, kink is a game, a way to spice up sex by adding a hint of taboo. This book isn’t about those people.

These stories dig deeper, baring souls, exposing the heady thrill of power and surrender, intimacy and complicity. In the passionate dance of dominant and submissive, there is no tomorrow. There is only now, balanced between pleasure and pain, breathless with forbidden possibilities.

Excerpt from "Never Too Late"

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.

“I want you across my lap. I want to turn that pale flesh of yours a nice, rosy pink.”

I obey. I can’t believe that I’m doing it, but I stretch myself along his thighs. The fine wool of his slacks is distended at the groin. I rub my damp bush against the hard mass of his erection, the emotional pleasure almost trumping the physical. He wants me. That’s all that really matters.

“Be still, slut!” He slaps my ass cheek with terrible force. The pain is a shock. He brings his palm down again on the other side, even harder. I whimper and try not to move.

He rains blows down on my tender flesh. Sometimes he lands a stinging smack at the back of my plump thighs. Sometimes he catches me across the crevice between my cheeks. The pain builds and builds until tears blur my vision, but still he spanks me, again and again, with the same ferocity he showed me in the elevator.

My ass feels as though it’s bleeding and raw, yet still he beats me. His strength and stamina appear to have no limits. Floating in a red sea of pain, I sense his jubilation. As much as he has me in thrall, I’m also giving him what he needs. I know somehow he would stop if I told him to do so. I can’t bring myself to that point. I don’t want to disappoint him.

When he finally does stop, I hardly notice. I’ve grown accustomed to the sharp sting and the deeper ache from earlier strokes. It’s all I’ve ever known, all I want to know.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature: https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/90-bound-and-breathless-passionate-kink/

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B097HJYMFC/

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B097HJYMFC/

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B097HJYMFC/

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B097HJYMFC/

Universal Amazon Link: https://rxe.me/HJYMFC

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58372150-bound-and-breathless

Have you ever been beaten by a lover? #BDSM #FirstNovel #SaturdaySpanks

I haven’t done a Saturday Spanks post in a while. Today I’m sharing an excerpt from my very first novel, Raw Silk. In fact, this is the first flogging scene I ever wrote.

Not bad, I think, for an amateur...

Blurb

In a foreign land, a woman discovers exotic new realms of the senses…

When software engineer Kate O’Neill leaves her lover David to take a job in Thailand, she becomes sexually involved with two very different men—a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic proprietor of a sex bar.

Each touches her in a different way, each teaches her different things about her body and her heart.

Then David comes to Bangkok, and Kate realizes that, finally, she must choose one of the three men who all desire her. 

 

 

Excerpt

The lights of Bangkok sparkled below. Could anyone see her, naked and restrained, framed by the rosy glow behind her? As the leather-attired giant tied her other wrist to the ring on the opposite wall, Kate wondered about the other women Gregory had lured to this hotel room. And men? So far she had seen no indication that his dominant stance extended only to females. His manipulation of Edward Harrison suggested the contrary. Who were they? How did they behave? How much pain, how much humiliation could they endure?

More than she could, no doubt. All at once she felt woefully inadequate. She watched Marshall, as he finished off a neat bowline and tested its strength. How could she ever satisfy him?

He caught her glance, read the distress in her eyes. “Yes, I admit I’ve brought others here, to my comfortable urban dungeon. But that should not concern you.”

She was fully bound now, arms stretched wide across the window alcove.

“Spread your legs a little more,” he interrupted himself to order. “You’ll find that you’re more stable.”

He stood before her, hands on his hips. “You are mine now, Kate, mine because I chose to make you mine. Mine because you chose to answer my call.” He brushed the hair back from her anxious eyes. “Your role is to obey me, to serve me and please me.” He paused then continued softly, “And you do, Kate. You please me greatly, even in your innocence and inexperience.If there are others who also serve, what is that to you? You should be grateful to them, for giving your Master pleasure.”

Kate felt her jealousy and despair melt away. He was right. As long as she could give him what he wanted, what else mattered?

She heard him moving behind her, near the bed, then he stood before her again, something dark in his hands.

“I left this on the bed, also, for you to examine and consider. But apparently you did not notice—or did not allow yourself to do so.”

He held out the article for her inspection. Kate swallowed the lump in her throat. The item in his hands was clearly some sort of leather whip.

“The technical term,” Gregory said, smiling, “is cat-o’-nine-tails. You’ll notice the many strands of leather radiating from the handle.” He grasped the handle, which was neatly encased in braided leather, in his left hand, running his right over the strands as if caressing a lover’s hair. “Each thong ends with a knot. When used correctly, the thongs apply a sharp heat, while the knots digging into the skin provide an extra sting.”

He dangled the whip above her shoulder, the knots just touching then brushed it across her breasts. The leather was amazingly soft, but as he dragged it across her still-swollen nipples, she felt the echo of the clamps on her flesh.

Now he was delicately tracing an upward path, from her pubic fur across her belly, sending delicious tremors up her spine and down her bound arms. Thus far, he was using the cat-o’-nine-tails as an instrument of pure pleasure.

He spoke again, without stopping his leather caresses. “Have you ever been beaten by a lover?”

She shook her head, and felt herself blush, though she didn’t understand why.

“Have you ever dreamed or fantasized about such a thing?”

“No,” she said, indignant. “Of course not.”

Gregory laughed. “Of course not? Indeed! Perhaps you don’t remember your dreams, Kate.”

He leaned close to her ear, whispering, “The first time I laid eyes on you, I sensed that you craved the whip. I saw it in your eyes, in the way you moved, in your fierce, almost defiant independence. I felt your yearning to be mastered, to be set free.”

She hung her head, silent. Was what he said true? Did she really know so little of herself?

“I want to whip you, Kate, whip you well, to open your mind and your senses to the possibilities within you.”

He lifted her chin with the end of the whip, so that her eyes met his.

“Will you do this for me? Do you dare to take this next step?”

His gaze was a spotlight, searching to the depths of her soul. Kate felt fear and desire, rebellion—I’ll show him what I dare!—and devotion—How could I not do whatever pleases him? She found herself fascinated by the leather implement of punishment that he wielded with such familiarity. She was curious, disgusted, and, as usual in Marshall’s presence, unbelievably aroused.

Finally she answered. “Yes,” she said softly. “I dare. For you.” Her cheeks burned at admitting her weakness.

“Good,” he said. “Once again, you do not disappoint me.” He circled around behind her. “Now, relax. And breathe.”

The first stroke caught her by surprise. Confused by her mixed emotions and muddled by her lust, she had not been thinking about the pain. Each leather strand was a red-hot wire, searing the flesh of her buttocks. She bit her lip, trying not to cry out.

A precise snap and a second stroke landed, a little lower, on the fullest part of her rump. “Ouch!” She could feel the individual traces left by the knots, a dozen separate bites all over those swelling cheeks.

“Does that hurt?” asked Gregory, with a little laugh. “But I have just begun.” He swung the whip three times in rapid succession, crisscrossing her behind with sharp leather kisses. Then there was another snapping sound, and the thongs raked across the sensitive skin on the backs of her thighs.

Kate whimpered. Each stroke built on the pain of the previous one. Her whole rear burned and stung, as the man behind her methodically applied the whip to her ass, her thighs, and her shoulders. She twisted and writhed, trying in vain to avoid the lashes. The bonds held her taut.

Gregory used an uneven rhythm, so that she could not anticipate the blows. There would be a pause of several breaths, then he would rain four or five quick strokes on her quivering flesh.

She could no longer feel the individual strands of the whip. All had blended into a hot haze of pain, streaking up and down her body. Tears pricked her eyes. She wished that she could see her tormentor. Perhaps that would give her courage.

Even as this thought came to her, he stopped. She felt his palms cupping her buttocks. Even against her inflamed skin, his touch was hot. Now she felt him sliding his fingers into her cunt, probing and massaging.

She knew that she was drenched with arousal, that the beating had left her sex more swollen and hungry than before. “Just testing,” said Gregory with his characteristic mocking tone. “I want to make sure that you are enjoying yourself.”

Buy Links (Ebook and Print)

Kinky Literature

http://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/361-raw-silk-/

Amazon US

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AUSE5NE/

Amazon UK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01AUSE5NE/

Barnes & Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/raw-silk-lisabet-sarai/1102328201?ean=9781786510051

Totally Bound

https://www.totallybound.com/raw-silk

Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28603390-raw-silk

#SaturdaySpanks: Sin City Sweethearts -- #Spanking #Erotica #StripPoker

 

 

I’ve got a very intense Saturday Spanks excerpt for you today, from my outrageous erotica tale Sin City Sweethearts (Vegas Babes #3). It starts out with a game of strip poker, after dinner on Thanksgiving, and just gets wilder from there!

Blurb

Like many newlyweds, Annie and Ted work hard, economize, live in a too-small apartment, and make passionate love whenever possible. They’re just a bit more open-minded and inclusive about sex than most couples—they met at The Fox’s Den strip club and bonded during an orgy. They’re delighted when fraternal twins Marcella and Madeleine McNabb move into the apartment downstairs. The innocent eighteen year old beauties have come to Las Vegas for university and to escape their overprotective family. Annie and Ted figure it’s practically their duty to educate the sisters about the real Sin City.

Marcie and Maddy prove to be apt pupils, with voracious carnal appetites. Before long they’re intimately involved not only with their upstairs neighbors, but also their hippie landlord and landlady, Maddy’s hunky coach, Marcie’s dominant department head, a handful of their classmates, a bevy of strippers from the Den and the infamous Foxy and Larry themselves. Then the four McNabb brothers come to town, threatening to drag the twins back to Ely, and things get truly wild.

Excerpt

“All I’ve got is my underwear,” said Marcie, holding Joel’s gaze. She felt like she was already naked. Her nipples were hot and hard, throbbing each time they brushed the fabric of her dress. Moisture leaked from her slick and swollen pussy. Whoever won her panties would find them distinctly damp.

“And how good are your cards?” he challenged. “Are you going to bet?”

She nodded. “And you?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll win. My jeans. Okay, call.”

Annie flipped over her cards. “Two pair, aces over queens.”

Her heart slamming against her ribs, Marcie exposed her three jacks. “Three of a kind.” She raised her eyes to Joel’s face. “And you?”

The pony-tailed host gave her a slow smile. “I’ve got three of a kind, too.” He tipped over a queen, and Marcie sucked in her breath. Grasping the hem of her dress, she pulled it over her head to expose her bare tits. Why wait?

“Three sevens,” he continued, displaying the rest of his hand. “You win, Marcie.”

He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it behind him. His blue jeans took longer to remove. His impressively rigid cock got in the way.

His shaft arced up from a salt-and-pepper tangle at his groin, seven inches at least, the skin pale and smooth-looking. His dick didn’t seem to have the veins she’d seen on the other guys she’d had. The swollen bulb, fatter than the rod itself, was a deep magenta, shiny with the fluids that leaked from his slit. Joel’s erection bobbed and twitched, as if preening under her rapt gaze.

Saliva pooled in Marcie’s mouth. He looked utterly delicious.

“Care for a taste?” he offered, reading her mind.

She scurried over, on her hands and knees, scattering the cards in all directions. In seconds she was crouched between his spread legs, licking up his pre-cum and swirling her tongue over that tempting knob. Opening wider, she sucked half his length into his mouth.

Joel groaned. “Yeah, that’s right, little girl. Swallow me whole.”

She did just that, relaxing her throat and sinking down until her nose nestled in his grizzled pubes. He smelled incredible, spicy and exotic as incense. Meanwhile his flavor was different from Ted’s, more subtle, without the sharp tang she remembered. He’s a vegetarian, she recalled. They say that makes a difference.

Forming her lips into a tight circle around his rock-hard shaft, she slid up and down, backing off to lap at his cockhead, then plunging down to take every pulsing inch. He groaned and bucked under her, driving deeper, until she nearly choked on his flesh. He might not eat meat, she thought. But I do.

She gripped his corded thighs with both hands and sucked harder, feeling his muscles strain as he arched into her mouth. That’s right, she thought, picking up the pace. Give me your cum, Joel. Your own special whipped cream.

Her clit, still trapped inside her panties, felt huge and tender. Every time Joel’s dick hit the back of her throat, it pulled her further up the slope to her own climax. She wanted to touch herself, but he was thrashing so hard now that she couldn’t let go of his legs. Marcie squeezed her own thighs together and clenched her hungry pussy. She was so, so turned on. Wouldn’t it be cool if she could come just from sucking Joel off?

“You naughty, naughty girl!” Ted’s voice, behind her, broke into her fantasy. Hands—presumably his—snagged the elastic waistband of her bikinis and dragged the sodden bit of fabric down to her bent knees. “If only your parents knew about the nasty way you’re celebrating Thanksgiving!” He swept one finger through her dripping cleft, pushing her to the very edge of coming, but snatched his hand away before she tumbled over.

Marcie moaned in protest around the cock in her mouth. The vibrations triggered more frenzied thrusts from the man underneath her. She arched back, futilely seeking more contact with the guy behind her.

“You know what you need?” Ted pinched one butt cheek and she yowled at the sting, her voice muffled by Joel’s cock.

I need your fingers in my pussy, she thought, wild with arousal. Or your cock.

“You need discipline, slut.” Another pinch, fingernails digging into her flesh. The pain took seconds to fade and when it did left her, strangely, wanting more.

Do that to my clit. Please!

“You need a good, old-fashioned spanking!” In sync with his words, Ted brought his hand down hard on her right ass cheek.

It hurt, far more than she ever would have expected. Her skin exploded with a bright, sharp sensation, as if little knives were embedded in his palm. Her mouth fell open; the cock she’d been sucking slipped out. She didn’t even notice. Ted spanked the opposite cheek. She thought he’d lit a match and held it to her naked flesh.

“Ow! Oh, god! Please…ow! Ted…” Her voice trailed off into inarticulate moans as he continued to spank her, alternating sides and locations. Sometimes his swats landed on the fleshy, full part of her butt. Sometimes, as if seeking variety, he laid his stinging blows on the sensitive skin near the join with her thighs. That felt like being broiled alive. Yet when he moved higher once more, she missed the exquisite burn.

Swat! Swat!

“You wanted this, you little slut,” Ted said, panting with exertion. “You practically begged me to spank you.”

She had begged him. She’d had no idea.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Tears in her eyes, pussy juice streaming down her legs, Marcie shook her head. Despite the pain—because of the pain?—she’d never been so aroused in her life. “Don’t—ow! —don’t stop,” she gasped.

“You want to come, slut?”

“Please…” she whimpered.

“Open your legs. That’s right.”

Ted reached between her spread thighs to pinch her clit, exactly as she’d imagined. At the same time, he slid a wet finger deep into her asshole.

She flew apart, exploding into an orgasm so intense that the room spun dizzily around her. Colors danced on her closed eyelids, bright flashes she felt as well as saw. Pleasure flared in her belly, expanding like overheated gas. Lighting arced through her, from clit to ass and back, in a fiery circuit that consumed all rational thought.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://kinkyliterature.com/book/5123-sin-city-sweethearts-vegas-babes-book-3/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MQVSWCH

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07MQVSWCH

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/917885

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sin-city-sweethearts-lisabet-sarai/1130204032?ean=2940155941880

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43594528-sin-city-sweethearts

A femdom snippet from The Ingredients of Bliss - #SaturdaySpanks #FemDom #BDSMRomance

LastWednesday, for the Book Hooks blog hop, I featured a fairly tame excerpt from my BDSM ménage erotic romance, The Ingredients of Bliss. For today’s Saturday Spanks post, I thought I should give you something spicier.

Here’s part of a hot femdom scene, set in a Paris hotel. Emily has been ordered by her master Harry to dominate her boss, impeccable French chef Etienne.

It’s complicated...

Enjoy!

Kicking off my shoes, I sat cross-legged on the bed across from the chair, examining its bound occupant. Less than a meter separated us. I could see the sheen of sweat on my captive’s forehead, the clear droplets gathering at his slit then dribbling down his shaft. My position exposed the thoroughly soaked crotch of my silk thong. Etienne licked his lips. His cock twitched as though he’d been hit by an electric shock.

“Now that you’re tied up nice and tight, I think I’m going to punish you. You deserve it—begging me to invite you to my room then showing up dressed like the slut that you are…”

I crawled up toward the head of the bed, giving him a good view of my bum and opened the drawer of the table next to the bed. I’d been too afraid of customs inspections to bring much in the way of sex toys, but I figured I could improvise.

Pulling out a pair of lacquered wood chopsticks, I held them up for Etienne to see. His perplexed expression made me chuckle.

“Were you hoping for a flogger, maybe? Or some clamps? You’d be surprised how versatile these can be…”

Perched on the edge of the bed once more, I leaned forward and caught one of his pink little nipples between the tips.

“Oh…”

Maintaining an iron grip, I pulled. I’ve been using kuàizi since I was three. I know how to hold on to a grain of rice or a morsel of meat and not let go.

“Ow! Oh, mon Dieu!”

“Don’t complain now, Etienne, or I’ll have to gag you.”

I moved to the other nipple, grabbing and twisting. Ever obedient, Etienne swallowed his cry of pain. The first nipple stood up smartly, fatter and redder than before.

“I’ve read that chopsticks can be used as nipple clamps.” I snapped the wood against the nub I’d assaulted first. He flinched, but his cock was harder than ever. “You capture the nipple between the two sticks then loop rubber bands around the two ends to force them together.” Actually, Harry had told me this, one night when he had me spread on his kitchen counter with clothespins biting into my labia. The thrill had pretty much neutralized the pain. He hadn’t yet tried the chopstick maneuver on me. I suspected he’d get around to that at some point.

“By moving the rubber bands closer to the center of the parallel sticks, you can increase the pressure.”

“Ah—ar—ah…”

“But I find chopsticks also work well when you don’t happen to have a cane or a crop.” Using the two chopsticks like miniature switches, I struck both nipples at once. Then I snapped at his thighs with the sticks, first on one side, then the other, moving closer to his erection with each stroke. “And they’re very portable.” Red streaks appeared in the wake of my blows, nicely parallel lines decorating his tanned skin.

How could I be doing this? And enjoying it? Because I was enjoying myself, I had to admit. I loved marking him, the sense of power and ownership it conveyed. I loved the notion that he’d endure this kind of pain, just to please me. If I were honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I loved seeing the proud and domineering master chef humbled. I recalled those first few days on the set, when he’d dismissed my culinary creations as faddish and unauthentic. Now I had him eating out of my hand, figuratively and literally too, if that was what I wanted.

Etienne was whimpering now, squirming against his bonds each time the lacquered wood made contact with his flesh. I paused, mere centimeters from his cock, and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Should I stop? Is it too much?” I knew that if I lashed his swollen penis, the sting would be far more intense than from my blows to his thighs. I peered into his face, reading both terror and desire.

“Uh—it’s up to you, Mistress.” He wanted to know what it would feel like, I could tell, but he couldn’t admit it. This time, I wouldn’t force him to confess.

“Hmm. Well—how about one stroke on each side then. You mustn’t come, though. If you do, I’ll make you very, very sorry. Understand?”

He nodded. I planted a brief kiss on his ripe lips as a reward. He was really so sweet, so vulnerable, so giving. He opened and thrust out his tongue, rude and forward. I just laughed and pulled away.

“You know you’ll pay for that, Etienne.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The sparkle in his eyes belied his deferent tone of voice. Some slave! But how could I complain?

“Are you ready? Take a deep breath…”

I flicked my wrist and snapped the chopstick against his quivering cock. His breath hitched, but his eyes stayed locked to mine.

“Good boy,” I murmured. “One more.” I was tempted to hold back with this last blow. His expression changed my mind.

“Sacre bleu…” he hissed. He jerked in his bonds. His cock surged like a rocket and for a moment, I was certain he’d lose control.

I pictured my lovely red corset, splattered with his cum. The image was so erotic I almost hoped he’d fail. By some miracle of will, though, he managed to hold on.

****

The Ingredients of Bliss is available in ebook and print at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Totally Bound, and other fine bookstores.

Dark desires flourish ... #BDSM #femdom #suspense #SaturdaySpanks

 

It’s Saturday – so let’s have some BDSM fun with a Saturday Spanks post!

This bit of femdom comes from my erotic thriller Bangkok Noir. In fact this book is quite dark and raw – one of the few books I've written that does not have a HEA - but this particular scene is enlightened by mutual lust.

Blurb

Dark desires flourish in the glittering City of Angels

Diana Fanning, aka the Professor, runs The Academy, the only genuine BDSM bar in Bangkok. She's the first person police colonel Apichat Weeranwongsakul consults when a bar girl turns up brutally murdered, tightly bound, with clamped nipples and every orifice stuffed with sex toys. The colonel figures the killer might be one of her customers. But he has his own secrets. He needs Diana to satisfy his shameful dreams of being beaten and abused.

Meanwhile, a mysterious American named Sam stalks Nok, the lovely natural dominant who is the Professor's star performer. Nok is used to being the one in charge. She can't understand why she craves the discipline Sam administers.

As more women are slaughtered, always in kinky circumstances, the Professor finds herself in an exclusive world catering to the perversions of Bangkok's wealthy and well-connected. Simultaneously looking for evidence and satisfying her own lusts, she doesn't realize until too late that the power she's used to wielding won't save her from becoming the serial murderer's next victim.

I made him wait for several minutes, while I became familiar with the belt. It was smooth and supple. I held it to my nose and breathed deeply; my cunt quivered in response. Leather always has that effect on me. I slipped the belt between my legs and ran it back and forth between my pussy lips. Lubricating it. The sensation was delicious. I found myself hoping that my victim would break quickly, so that I could experience some personal relief.

My first stroke took him by surprise. The leather whistled through the air and landed squarely across both buttocks. A scarlet trail erupted in its wake.

Apichat choked back a cry of pain and shock. I came around to look at this face. There were tears in his eyes.

"Too much?" I asked softly.

"Oh no, Ajarn. No. It just that it has been so long."

"So I should continue, then?"

He raised his eyes to mine. "Please, Ajarn."

My second stroke sliced clean and sharp across his shoulders. His body shook with the force of it, but he remained silent. The third blow painted red patterns across the backs of his thighs. His muscles clenched each time I struck, but still he made no sound.

Ten strokes. Twenty. His skin began to look as though he had been barbecued. I paused to check his state, a bit worried. His eyes were closed. His tousled hair was matted against his sweaty brow. His breathing was deep and even. And his russet-colored cock was rigid as stone.

"Enough?" I whispered in his ear. He shook his head.

"More," he croaked hoarsely. "Please, more."

I gave him twenty more strokes. His buttocks twitched and his back arched each time the leather kissed him. My arms and back began to ache. I'm not young any more. Still, he offered his body to me, mutely asking for my power, my pain.

Finally, it was I who couldn't take any more. I unfastened the handcuffs. He crumpled to the floor.

 

Was he unconscious? I crouched beside him, rolling him over on his back.

"Colonel? Are you all right?"

He opened his eyes and smiled, though his voice was a weak whisper. "Oh yes. Thank you, Ajarn." He let his eyes close again, exhausted, but his face was calm and relaxed.

There he was, simultaneously so vulnerable, and so strong. With that cock of his still rearing up between those sinewy thighs. I had no choice.

I reached for his trousers and rummaged once more in his pockets. As I hoped, I found a condom. I straddled his skinny body and lowered my slippery cunt onto his swollen organ.

His cock convulsed as my heat engulfed him. "Don't come, slave," I warned, "or I'll beat you some more." He said nothing, but I could swear that he struggled not to grin. Leaning over, I forced my nipple into his mouth. "Suck on this, slave, and be grateful. Maybe after I climax, I'll let you come."

He answered by arching his back, driving his cock into my depths. Unexpectedly, that was enough to push me over the edge. I plummeted down, down, flying through a void where there was nothing but pleasure. Pleasure swirled around me, shimmered through me.

I felt his teeth sink into my breast. His nails scored my buttocks. Dimly I heard grunts, sensed renewed heat as he exploded inside me. Pleasure, the sweet pure pleasure of lust long denied, washed every other sensation away.

Buy Links (Audio)

Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Erotica-Sexuality/Bangkok-Noir-Audiobook/B071PDZMWQ?qid=1496335661&sr=1-2

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Bangkok-Noir/dp/B072636CWY/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_product_top?ie=UTF8

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35280466-bangkok-noir

Buy Links (Ebook)

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Bangkok-Noir-Thriller-Lisabet-Sarai-ebook/dp/B00NIABWK6/

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bangkok-noir-lisabet-sarai/1114303601?ean=2940150400511

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/bangkok-noir-4

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28499362-bangkok-noir