Discomfort Zone - #kink #violence #squicks

I’ve been thinking about my comfort zones - topics I can write and explore without getting scared or squicked or otherwise wanting to stop - and the areas outside those boundaries. When it comes to sexual topics, there's not much that bothers me. I've written orgies , exhibitionism, bondage, all sorts of corporal punishment, infantilism, incest, enemas and golden showers, even so-called blood sports (although there was nothing playful about that tale). I won't say I'm totally relaxed penning stories with extreme elements - I'm more likely to be aroused - but in most cases I'm not uncomfortable.

There is one sort of content that I find induces extreme discomfort, though - any sort of serious violence.

I'm not talking about rough sex here; I've written plenty of scenes where someone wants to be fucked within an inch of his or her life, and someone else gladly complies. No, I'm referring to cases where a character gets beaten, stabbed, burned, blinded, castrated, literally tortured by another. Even if this activity is in the context of a relationship - even if the victim apparently consents - this sort of scene really bothers me. I recognize, a bit sheepishly, that few of my dominants possess more than a subtle streak of true sadism. I've never written a pure sadist, who gets his or her thrills from causing pain as opposed to being in control. That would make me much too uncomfortable.

Back in 2010, I edited my good friend C. Sanchez-Garcia's charitable short story collection, Coming Together Presents C. Sanchez-Garcia. One of the tales he included in the manuscript was "Miss Julia's Cake Club". Julia is a poverty-stricken Hispanic woman, beaten and abused by her husband, who lives in an unnamed military dictatorship. She is arrested and tortured by authorities who believe that she's somehow connected to an opposition political movement. Julia dreams of having a beautiful, well-equipped kitchen where she can cook and bake, sharing her love with others. Instead, for reasons she can't begin to fathom, she is subjected to incredible pain, terror and humiliation. One of the story's most extreme scenes offers a chilling description of water boarding, detailed enough to give anyone nightmares.

It was terribly difficult for me to work on "Miss Julia's Cake Club". It's a true, powerful, serious story about dignity, trust, freedom and redemption. It's not sensationalist or exploitative. Like almost everything Garce writes, it has a spiritual dimension. It is also, at times, intensely erotic, as Julia escapes into her fantasies. I could appreciate all this, but still, I had to force myself to read on.

I reviewed that story at least three or four times over the course of preparing the book for publication. It never lost its impact. It never failed to make me uncomfortable.

It occurs to me, looking back, that consciously or unconsciously, this might have been the author's intention. If one can read such a story of violence and abuse and remain comfortable, perhaps one has lost some aspect of humanity.

Of course, not all violent tales have redeeming social value. Pretty much all of them bother me, though. I especially dislike work that sexualizes cruelty (which Garce's story does not). I can't imagine writing something in that vein. Yes, I do have a scene in Necessary Madness where the villain plans to sacrifice the hero while fucking him, as part of a satanic ritual (and yes, that was pretty tough for me to write), but there's no violence for its own sake (and the hero of course manages to save himself, so there's just the threat of bloodshed, not the fact). I know, intellectually, that some people find the idea of inflicting serious pain and causing real physical damage to be arousing. I can't understand that, from an emotional perspective - and although I try hard to be tolerant and broad minded, I can't help feeling distinctly queasy.

So despite my carefully cultivated reputation for being a sexual pioneer, open to experimentation, willing to try (or at least to write about!) any sort of perversion, I guess I'm really a wimp.

I make no apologies.

Tales of love with a BDSM twist -- @pebbleslacasse #mistress #submission #femdom

By Pebbles Lacasse (Guest Blogger)

Hello everyone, I’m Pebbles Lacasse. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you Lisabet for having me as a guest on your blog. For all of you who have never heard my name before, I’ll tell you a bit about the stories I write and how I create my characters.

Although I’ve written books that aren’t sexual, my favorite tales to tell are about the delights of BDSM. Many readers think there can’t be a love story to come from a book about consensual rough sex. I don’t want the readers to get hung up on all the sexual aspects of the stories. Love is where it’s at, am I right? I adore a good romance. My characters always discover their love where they least expected to find them. I’m always pleased to finish a book with a happy ending.

When starting a novel, I like to imagine characters that have interesting personalities and a wild sex drive. Each one is strong-minded, especially the submissives. Occasionally, however, their characteristics resemble people I know in real life. Some of my friends tell me about their wildest fantasies, most they would never act upon. But, there are others who whisper risqué details of the most exciting, taboo sex they have ever had. A few of those stories have made it into my books but I won’t tell you which scenarios or their names. Secrecy is a must.

The main character in my book series, My JoeSmith, is quiet and seems innocent. She differs greatly from the woman who tells her tale in my third book, Alexa & Blaire. Both seek adventure as well as mind-blowing sexual experiences, and neither thinks love in on the table until all of a sudden, it is. Through trust, budding romances thrive, blooming into a bond stronger than the ropes used to bind them.

Mistress Tarah is my latest book, published February 16 of 2018. This book is a bit different than the others in that the storyteller is a dominatrix and not the submissive. It was so much fun to write the book from another perspective. I can see myself writing more books like this one. All of my BDSM books are published through eXcessica.

If love and explicit sexual scenes are your thing, check out the blurb for Mistress Tarah…

Mistress Tarah quenches the secret kinky thirsts of her wealthy clients, pushing each person’s boundaries to their limit. Whether they want to be humiliated, adored, punished or bound, she enjoys taking them into their world of fantasy, ensuring their experience with her is unequalled. Mistress Tarah thrives in her expert ability to dish out exactly the right amount of pain before pleasure, never leaving a client disappointed no matter the depth of their perversion.

Victor is a ferocious master of his own dungeon but when Mistress Tarah calls, she need only ask him to join her and he will eagerly fulfill her client’s desire of being physically overwhelmed by a muscle-bound beast of a man. He has an uncanny ability of bringing both men and women to unimaginable heightened states of arousal.

When he leaves the dungeon, he becomes the gentle giant who loves and adores Mistress Tarah with a patient easiness that she doesn’t understand. The one thing she fears the most is giving her love away, no matter how much she wants to let herself fall for Victor’s gentle touch, loving arms and his promise of an everlasting love.

Her fears of meeting his family have her doubting they will accept her unconditionally if Victor reveals who she is. When one of her top clients is discovered to be an important member of Victor’s family, will this new information cast her out of his life, proving to her once again that nobody can love unconditionally… not even Victor?

Have I tickled your interest? Not quite? Perhaps you need a little snippet from between the pages of Mistress Tarah. Here is an excerpt that just might pull on your naughty string…

I have Steven lying face down, spread out on the floor while I sit on his lower back and spank his ass. Before he laid flat, I had him aim his prick to point toward his feet so the top of it rests against the floor. I shove my fingers into his asshole while my other hand presses down on the head of his engorged cock, nearly flattening it to the floor. He’s gasping and groaning as I punish his prick and asshole. He can hear his wife moaning but I have him so he can’t see her. I arranged him purposely this way to frustrate him, which will excite him even more.

My fingers slap at his testicles before stroking the tip of his cock. He’s crying out and moaning at the same time. It could all stop if he wanted it to but he enjoys the suffering. I can feel his manhood swelling beneath him. I push three fingers into his ass, and then four while fucking him slowly.

My attention is drawn back to Victor and Kim when she screams out from her first orgasm by him. His fingers are buried deep into her sloppy, wet cunt. I can hear the sloshing as his digits wave inside of her.

He looks to me and winks, letting me know that he’s going to fuck her soon. I need to arrange Steven so he can watch her reactions. I order him to follow me crawling like a baby. He complies without a sound, standing as soon as we reach the pillars.

After fastening his hands together behind his back using metal handcuffs, I buckle a collar onto his neck and attach it to one of the ropes that hang from the ceiling chains, and then pull it until he’s standing straight and tall. If his feet are flat on the floor, the collar will slow the blood flow to his brain but if he’s on his toes, he’ll be fine. I will need to monitor him very closely in this position. The rope is set with a quick release if he gets weak or passes out.

I insert a large butt plug into his ass, which slips in easier than usual. Victor stretched him quite a bit. I stand in front of him and fondle his prick while he stares at my eyes, trying not to offend me by peeking at his wife and Victor. He learned a long time ago to watch me while I’m touching him, unless I instruct him otherwise. I slide a handheld fucking sleeve over his erect penis and slowly glide up and down his full length while I gingerly fondle his testicles with my free hand, squeezing hard at times.

“Watch your wife. Victor is going to fuck her. Do you think she’ll scream? Maybe she’ll enjoy his cock so much that yours will no longer satisfy her.” My words are spoken in a soft, teasing voice while I make my way behind him so he can watch them… so we can both watch them.

My hand slides the fucking sleeve while my other plays with the butt plug, pushing and pulling it, not enough to say I’m fucking him with it, just teasing. I veer my eyes to the couple as he’s rolling on a condom. She is panting, anxiously awaiting his thick, rigid member.

He leans over like he’s going to kiss her but it’s in the contract that he doesn’t. He’s allowed to kiss her husband but not her. Steven felt it would be too emotionally intimate for a man to kiss another man’s wife. He’s sure he’d get jealous if that were to occur. People never know what they will or will not get upset about until the situation arises and by then, sometimes it’s too late. I warned couples to be conscious of that, especially for their first time with a bisexual male partner.

He lines up his large cock and slowly pushes forward, sliding all the way into her without pausing. Her mouth gapes, releasing a long, loud moan. He pulls his hips back and then glides into her with great care not to slam hard the first few times. She’s watching his washboard abs flex and relax. He puts his hands on the back of his head and purposely flexes his muscles as he fucks her.

Her face reddens and she screams out, “I’m coming!” Her teeth clench as she fights to keep her eyes open so she can see the glorious creature before her but they flutter and then squeeze tightly shut.

Victor pushes his pelvis against her and holds, grabbing her waist to help hold himself inside her as her cunt spasms around his prick. He will not let her spray, thus not giving her the powerfully orgasmic experience that every woman so desires. As soon as her body eases, he begins hammering into her. She’s watching his face again as he watches his cock fill her completely. When he looks back up at her, she’s coming again. He holds inside her waiting for her to ease, once again refusing her the gushing orgasm.

He pulls out of her long enough to walk a few steps to collect a vibrating wand from the floor beside them. He lines up and slides into her wet cunt with a quick thrust. She’s already moaning, working up another orgasm. I think she’s so infatuated by his appearance that he could be the worst lay ever and she’d still orgasm, but he is very good, I know this for a fact.

He presses the vibrating wand against her clit and she starts squirming against the restraints. Soon she’s wailing and moaning, begging him not to stop what he’s doing to her. He continues to fuck her with an easygoing rhythm while vibrating her tiny cluster of nerves. As soon as she starts whining like she’s going to climax, he slams his prick into her cunt repeatedly, with force. Kim falls silent, her face reddening as she holds her breath, so lost in ecstasy, her brain too overcome by pleasure to realize that she needs to breathe.

Victor suddenly pulls out of her and spins to the side as a flooding gush of cum sprays from her spastic cunt, splashing onto the floor. Her body convulses as she gasps in a long breathe and then screams, demanding him to continue. “Fuck me hard!”

Do you want to read more? I hope you do. Here are some links to my author pages to help you…

eXcessica - http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=6&products_id=1398

Goodreads- https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38610504-mistress-tarah

Amazon.com - https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=pebbles+lacasse

Barnes & Noble - https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mistress-tarah-pebbles-lacasse/1127959616?ean=2940158612541

Manic Readers - http://www.manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=bookdetail&bookid=62002

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/pebbles.lacasse.56

About Pebbles

Pebbles Lacasse is a writer of erotic sex that some would consider to be taboo. The genre of BDSM is sadly overlooked by many, but Pebbles enjoys creating characters with big personalities that are easy for most readers to assimilate with, especially if ‘normal’ is not what you crave. Although she’s written sci-fi and mystery under her real name, sex is what she writes best.

Having been raised in a small town in southern Canada, she learned the value of keeping life simple. Pebbles remains near her birthplace even though she has lived elsewhere. Home is with family. She’s worked in many jobs that taught her what it means to work hard but due to illness, is now at home creating characters who love to be bad.

She’s married to the love of her life who just so happens to be her best friend. Together they’ve raised two amazing children who are now grown and living happy, productive lives. She keeps her family close to her heart, always and forever.

Be good to one another and don’t hurt anyone, unless they ask you to.

Xoxo,

Pebbles Lacasse

@pebbleslacasse

Review Tuesday: Show Yourself To Me by Xan West

Show Yourself to Me: Queer Kink Erotica by Xan West

Go Deeper Press, 2015

I am not the target audience for this very personal book. I’m not transgendered, or disabled, or a person of color. I’ve never been abused, sexually or otherwise. My real world experience with kink is limited to a single, long-ago relationship, though dominance and submission permeate my sexual fantasies and much of my writing. Although I’m strongly attracted to women and label myself bi-sexual, in practice most of my relationships have been straight. My reality has little in common with the world portrayed in this collection.

Nevertheless, Xan West’s tales speak to me at some fundamental level. The stories in Show Yourself to Me evoke emotions that I recognize, even when the activities are foreign to the point of being disturbing. There are truths here, shining against the dark background of extreme sadism, articulated with glorious clarity. They linger long after the visceral impact of Xan’s rough sex has faded.

Many of these tales were familiar. I’ve always appreciated both the intense eroticism and the subtle interplay of complementary desires one finds in any story authored by Xan West. Gathered together, these tales are almost overwhelming—each one a punch in the gut, with no time to recover before the next. This book is not for the faint of heart.

Although the sexual activities involved in these stories tend to be quite similar, the moods vary. The book begins with the plaintive and nostalgic “Missing Daddy”, a top’s reminiscing about his first dominant.

I miss Daddy. It’s that simple. Not just him—I miss who I was back then. A chubby cub novice, eager, hungry, open. We’re supposed to graduate, you know. Those of us whose path to the top begins at the bottom. We’re supposed to grow from boy to Daddy in a way that is so fine, so right, where we pay our dues and never look back with longing.

The secret truth of it is this: many of us that moved to the other side of the whip did it to approximate what we had longed for and rarely received. We did it not because we grew up slowly, nurtured by Daddy, but because we decided to grow up on our own and stop yearning for that kind of Daddy. To instead get our pleasure from being that Daddy to some lucky boy. No one tells those stories. It would not do to talk of the ways we suffered from neglect, betrayal, abandonment, and flat-out abuse as bottoms. It would rip open our mythology and make our boys doubt our desire for them.

Theo was before all that. When I was fresh-faced and barely 24. When I still thought that the hard part was figuring out I was a Daddy’s boy. When I was hopeful and certain in my desires. When I still felt whole.

This passage made me ache. It’s so rare that erotic authors chronicle the process that leads someone to become a top, or consider the vulnerabilities that might remain beneath the facade of absolute power.

“First Time Since” portrays loss of another sort. After releasing a submissive from a long-term relationship, the narrator stops wearing the boots that symbolize the D/s dynamic.

We build these intense relationships, fill them with ritual and intent and all of our full selves, and even if they end honorably (as this one did), that doesn’t stop us from feeling ripped in two. Like a vital piece of self just walked out the door, never to return.

Rebuilding came first. Reclaiming all the tasks I delegated to him. All of the opportunities for service that I created led to this sense that we were one unit—interdependent.

So I began to take them back. From the preparation of food to putting away my clothes precisely as I require. From keeping my glass full to shaving my head every week.

But not my boots. They gathered dust as I tried to imagine feeling powerful enough, strong enough, whole enough to wear them. They were patient. More patient than I was with this grieving.

Eventually, this dominant finds a new bottom, someone eager to bathe those boots in tears and cum, then polish them to a perfect shine. The fact remains though, that sex is only an expression of deeper needs—for connection, for control, for reverence.

That is perhaps one of the primary messages in this book. Kinky sexual activities abound in Show Yourself to Me: ass-fucking, cock-sucking, fisting, piss play, knife play, breath play, fire play, floggings, canings, pretty much any extreme you might imagine. Still the author is very clear—physical sex is not the point. These stories aren’t just wildly transgressive fuck-fests (not just...). They’re parables about admitting who you are, owning your desires even when they’re socially unacceptable, searching for partners whom you can trust enough to show your true self—dark as that might be—and who will be equally open in return. The release that comes from that sort of connection (which might just as easily be found in an anonymous alley fuck as in a committed relationship) goes far beyond pleasure.

One story that beautifully illustrates this point is “The Tale of Jan and Tam”. Jan is new in town, kinky and queer, a novice bottom looking for a place to call home. Tam is an experienced top of legendary sadism who has just split with a boy who allowed that cruelty to get out of hand. At a workshop, Jan and Tam negotiate a scene of “transformative play”.

Jan continued, “I don’t want the transformative part to be about me and what I need. What I need is pain. If that can be a path to your transformative experience, that would be my choice.”

Tam was silent for a few minutes. Who was this person? How could they have arrived offering exactly what ze had just realized ze needed? Ze couldn’t even really believe it.

“You’re talking about me being the focus of the transformative play?”

Jan was glad ze finally spoke. It had been so hard for them to get out. But they had come to Carter Hall hoping for more. The only way to get what they wanted was to name it.

“Yes,” Jan said quietly. “What kind of transformation do you seek?”

....

“I want to unleash my sadism, go deeper than I have in a long time.” Tam swallowed. “What I need is for you to hold on to me as I do that. To be the anchor to this world. To accept what I show you, however scary, and keep holding on.”

“That’s a big job.”

“Yes. And. I need you to really be able to hold space, during and after.”

Jan nodded. Was this something they could do? They knew they wanted it. But it was important not to make false promises. Tam would be counting on them. Jan swallowed. Time to take the risk.

“Yes. I can do that. I want to do that, for you.”

The scene that follows is intense, but for me, this negotiation, this naming of one’s desires, was the most arousing part of the story.

Another message common theme in Show Yourself To Me involves the fluidity of gender. Physical anatomy doesn’t determine maleness or femaleness, and indeed, there exist infinite variations between these two apparent poles. In many stories, I wasn’t sure of either the biological or the psychological gender of the protagonists. After a while, I decided it didn’t matter. A strap-on cock is as real as one of flesh and blood. Indeed, the fact that one has chosen a cock as opposed to being born with one can make it sexier.

Xan begins the story “Strong” with a candid admission of this fact:

For both of us, gender is complex identity and elaborate sex toy. But not just that. It is not easy to grow up breaking the gender rules, to live lives visibly nonconforming. Gender is a dangerous and delicious edge in which we play, knowing that we may inadvertently step on the minefields of our gendered histories and present struggles. Part of the thrill is that danger. We push gender to its own edges, play its sharpness against our throats, fear in our mouths, ache in our guts, building armor against becoming what we fear.

In this tale, the submissive plays as both male and female. Ultimately the sub is more than either.

This is already much longer than my typical review. There’s a lot more I could say. I could go on posting exquisite snippets from Xan’s tales more or less indefinitely. I have many more bookmarked.

Instead, I’ll just tell you flat out. If you’re intrigued and aroused by gender ambiguity—if you’re looking for erotica that’s both brilliantly insightful and blazing hot—if you believe, as I do, that sexual interactions are a path to healing and self-awareness—go get yourself a copy of this book.