Surrender to Love – a short blog update

Livia’s guest post on Heather Long’s blog gave us some insight into the mind of the female dominant, basically from a lessons’ learned perspective and was  a lot of fun to see, wasn’t it?  I hope I’ve converted a few new readers!  You’re going to be seeing a lot more of Livia, Bruce, Siddella and others from my Decadent books online as we start off an unofficial blog tour over the coming months.

I’m looking forward to sharing with you all!

SurrenderToLoveBanner

Workshops – Male POV and Why Kink

Coming up Sept 24th on a private yahoo loop – Why Kink

Do you like to write BDSM? Do you want to learn more about the lifestyle from a real DOM? Check out the class coming up in informedwriter yahoo loop on 9/24 with Sascha Illyvich called Why Kink. Class cost is $20.00 and will run M-F. The instructor will post lessons around 1p eastern and will be available off and on during the day for questions. Payment needs to be made to me by paypal at sandys37@hotmail.com before midnight 9/23 to be eligible for class. Class will be held via yahoo loop. For questions email me at sandysullivan@romancestorytime.com.  This is the prequel to my BDSM for Romance Authors class.

In October I’ll be teaching online for Outreach International Romance Writers of America chapter.

ates: October 1 – 15, 2012

 

Fee: OIRW Member $10 Non-Member $15

 

Course Description:

 

In this workshop, learn the ins and outs of character creation from a side of romance we rarely hear from, the male romance reader/writer! Kinky Erotic Romance author Sascha Illyvich shares with us tips on how to create more memorable heroes, avoid some common pitfalls and have more fun with our writing!

 

What you’ll learn from this class:

Male Archetypes and how they affect our characters

How (il)logical men think and why they act the way they do

How to take any male character from any movie/story and modify him to fit your story

How to get your man to express his true “self”

What men REALLY care about and how to work with that for your characters*

A man’s self view*

The GAY MALE Viewpoint*

The Male Cycle of Emotions and how it compares to the female cycle of emotions

A man’s journey in life

What men really think

 

Instructor Bio:

 

Sascha started writing thirteen years ago, releasing poetry and an occasional short erotica story before focusing on kinky erotic romance in various subgenres. His books have been listed under the Road to Romance’s Recommended read list, as well nominated for the CAPA.

 

He is also the host of the Unnamed Romance Show on Radio Dentata and continue to write for Renaissance E-books, and Total E-bound. Readers can find his work, plus free reads at http://saschaillyvichauthor.com

He is also part of the WriteSex Panel, a blog group that’s defining erotica for writers in any genre! Find us at www.writesex.net

 

Workshops are open to all. You do not have to be a RWA member.

To register, go to http://www.oirwa.com/forum/campus/.

For more information, contact Maria Connor, 2012 OIRW Campus Coordinator.

http://www.oirwa.com/officers-volunteers/contact-campus-coordinator/.

Here I come I’m droppipn (book) plates on your ass

Photo copyright belongs to the original owner.

 

A little something for your eyehole…from the upcoming paranormal bdsm collection featuring Bonni Sansom, Margie Church, Marianne LaCroix and me.

Finding Eternity

The story is: Solan is a man fighting, searching for his destiny when he’s struck down in battle. Katherine comes to his aid only to cryptically hint at her interest in him and need for him to own her. Can Solan realize his life belongs to the vampiress or will his selfishness cost him the one thing he needs to be complete?

Unedited First Chapter:

Light from an explosion blinded him. Another detonation rocked the ground beneath him, forcing him to his knees.  Solan gripped the hilt of his sword, pulled it from its sheath and stabbed the ground.  Using the sword for leverage, he forced himself to his feet just in time to free the sword and counter the attack coming at him.

His blade connected with the other man’s and rang out, sparks flying.

“You die now, warrior.” With a grunt, the behemoth of a man swung his blade at Solan.

Solan parried and jumped back.  Eyes narrowed, he focused on the weak spot in his opponent’s armor.  Dressed in leather boots, gauntlets, and clean rust colored armor, the man known simply as an Outsider heaved his sword back.  With one hand, he swung the giant blade at Solan.

Solan jumped away and charged in, swinging his sword across the Outsider’s midsection. He cut into the leather but barely scraped the skin.

The Outsider laughed and struck back, lunging at Solan, fist cocked back.

Solan took the blow to his lungs, wind whooshing out of him.  He swore bone cracked. That wasn’t good.  No hospitals in the area for at least two days journey meant he’d probably have to repair the injury himself, along with his other numerous cuts and scrapes.

In rapid fire succession, the Outsider jumped again at Solan, thrusting sword and fist at him.

Solan could only leap back and out of the way, each time feeling the wind from the Outsider’s attacks bite into his skin.

Instinct told him he could only keep this up another few minutes at best before the Outsider’s blade cut into him and tore him to pieces.

“I could keep this up,” the Outsider swung again, “for hours.  My strength is legendary.”

Solan said nothing as he blocked the sword coming at his head.  Straining, he parried the blade away and countered with an attack of his own.

The Outsider stopped his advance, held up his free hand. Thick fingers curled and uncurled, a white ball of light formed and hovered just above his palm.  Soundless energy swept up into a point, making the air crackle. Solan saw his chance.

The Outsider cocked his fist back and started to throw the light.

Ducking just in time, Solan thrust his sword up, catching the Outsider just below his ribs.  “Victory will be mine.”

Surprise slowly spread across the Outsider’s face.  He coughed blood and looked down at the new wound in his chest with wide eyes.

“You cannot heal that wound.  This blade is made from special iron and has been blessed by the Goddess Herself.  This battle,” Solan withdrew his blade, “is over.”

The ball of light dissipated into glimmers of light, disappearing and the Outsider fell to his knees, blood dripping down his chin.  Solan had cracked ribs and his blade punched through the attacker’s body completely.  Solid metal pierced the lung, silencing the wounded man.

With sword still in hand, he swung one last time at Solan.

Too close to deflect the blow with his weapon, Solan spun away in attempt to catch the blade in his weak arm.

The tip of the blade caught him, tearing deep in his flesh.

He grit his teeth, wiped sweat from his brow and looked around, scanning the barren land.  Several hundred yards from where he stood, an army made its way through what used to be lush forest and crystal clear streams.

Now, only soot and gunpowder filled the air.  The blue skies had turned gray, the ground empty, devoid of life.

Another explosion landed near him, sending him flying several feet back.  Mortar and shells fired off in rapid succession as the invaders sieged the lands and pushed back the humans attempting to defeat what Solan could only label as otherworldly beings.

He had to get away.  The cut on his arm was only one of many he’d endured before meeting the Outsider.

He’d lost a lot of blood.  Only dedicated skill had saved his life.  The Outsider had him outweighed by at least a good, solid hundred pounds.  His skill, speed and strength combined had him in Solan’s face so using his whip remained impossible.

He’d lost the short sword earlier in the day, had to pin two attackers to a tree.  If he pulled out the blade, they’d heal.  If he left it in, they’d die in hours.

By only a miracle, he still breathed.

His lungs burned inhaling smoke and death, his eyes stung, sweat ran down his forehead.  He reached into one of his kilt pockets, pulled out a rag and tore it into strips.  With difficulty concentrating, he tied the makeshift bandage around his arm.

His stomach grumbled.  He hadn’t eaten in two days.  The last village he passed through had been so impoverished, and his warrior’s code wouldn’t let him take from those lesser of him.

Silence echoed loudly around him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“No cut too deep,” he took a step forward.  Then another.  Dirt and gravel crunched beneath his boots.  “No road too long.  No wind too hard…”  The strain in his voice became apparent.  Even speaking felt like work.

Nothing around this desolate battlefield would sustain him.  With darkness setting soon, he could only hope for respite from his journey in the form of sleep.  Healing sleep and nourishment were the cornerstones of sustenance yet he’d lacked both.  The war between humans and the Other raged and he still didn’t know which side he belonged on.

He supposed in the end, he was his own side.

One last shell screamed through the air, whistling high enough that the sound carried and hurt Solan’s ears.

He had to make it through this battle.  Had to live.  Had to fulfill his destiny, whatever that was.

Yet, he saw only spots now, his vision blurring.  Something dug into his uncovered knees and cut into his skin.

Someone yelled.

Then Solan realized it was his scream permeating the air.

Tears streaked down his cheeks. He could not fail.  He had yet to figure out what that witch meant by finding his destiny.

Someone, something, in the air flew towards him.  A figure.  But, what?  He could only make out slender features in the fog and mist before the ground came at him too quickly and he saw black.

* * * *

Something wet and warm slid across his forehead, bringing him back from unconsciousness.  Solan didn’t move, but he opened his senses more.  Beneath him, softness.

“No night too dark.”

The sound of something dripping pulled his attention to his left, before the warmth dabbed at his forehead again.

“No road too long.”

Those words.

The voice was feminine, soft, with a foreign lilt that sounded sweet to his ears.

“No wind too strong.”

A washcloth.  Reality intruded the dull haze he’d been in as muscles ached and he let out a groan.

Carefully, he opened his eyes.

“You’re awake.”

Blurred vision gave way to reveal the face of an angel.

Or a demon.

Midnight blue hair hung straight, framing an oval face. Ruby red lips meant for easing the suffering of man only caused him to harden.

Her eyes seemed lifeless at first, but Solan stared harder into the pools of her irises, found himself sinking slowly into the depths of Krylon blue before he shook himself out of it.

Pain sliced through his limbs.

“Be careful.  I’ve given you something for the pain, but,” she ran a hand through her hair and he imagined what it would feel like to tangle his fingers in it.

She smiled, showed tiny fangs.

He gasped, “You’re a,” he tried to move, agonizing pain cut through him. He grit his teeth, the warrior in him refusing to scream.

“Yes, warrior.  I am the undead.”

“Where did you learn those words?”

“I don’t know,” she set a washcloth back in the basin.  “They have been in my head for many years now.  I cannot remember a time when I didn’t think of them. Why do you ask?”

Solan closed his eyes.  “No reason.”

Her arm brushed against his, sending a jolt of arousal coursing through him.  Again, he grunted, more in frustration at not being able to move or react, than anything else.

“This will sting a bit, but it’s necessary to change the wounds on your shoulder.  The cut is very deep and we had to replace a lot of what you lost.”

His eyes widened.

“No,” she shook her head, ‘Not with our blood.  There are willing humans who donate to us as we require in return for our protection.  Our herbs would not cure you, the state your body was in.”

The first time in ages he’d talked to someone who wasn’t trying to kill him and it had to be a vampire.  What did that say of his life?  “I see.”  He inhaled slowly, careful not to send another shock of pain through his system.  Exhaling was slightly more comfortable.

“When I found you, I tried to heal you with magic but the wounds wouldn’t close.  Something bad…”

“An Outsider.”  He turned his head to look at the basin and remove her pretty face from his sight.

“Yes.”  She picked up something metal, he caught the gleam of candlelight reflecting off it.  “You’re not-“

Two fingers pressed against his mouth.  “You have bomb shrapnel in you.  I’m simply going to remove it.”

The contact of her fingers against his lips made his throat dry.  He had to have her despite her being…

“Look away, it will hurt less.”

“You don’t have medicine to numb me?”

She swiped the knife through a flame, held it at eye level and blinked.  “I do not.”

Eyes wide, Solan jerked against her, sending pain lacing through his body.  His heart skipped a beat.  “You can’t bespell me?”

She shook her head slowly.  “Sadly, no.”

His eyes met hers and he found himself getting lost in her gaze, yet it wasn’t the intentional power of persuasion screaming in his head that stole his focus.  It was just…her.

With careful attention, she brought the knife to his flesh and cut along the injured area.

Solan stared down the line of her body, jerked from the knife cutting and pain, but found he liked the way the purple dress fit her.  Large breasts spilled from the lace top. If he had to guess, the dress reached floor length and tapered at the waist.  He couldn’t move past her breasts.

Her eyes met his and her lips curled upward in an appreciative smile.  Then she frowned.

“Ouch,” the sting bit into him, and his arm suddenly felt lighter.

“Just as I suspected.   The Outsider’s blade had magic woven into the folding of steel.”

“You can detect magic?”

She nodded.  “There are many things not understood about our race, but the humans won’t ask. And the Outsiders seek to control us.”

He’d heard.  The Outsiders sought to rule the world and blanket it with chaos.  Humans fought bravely but lost out due to the sheer size and strength of the typical Outsider.  Vampires hadn’t been a factor.  “Rumors and legends abound about your kind.”

Again, she nodded, and the light reflected off her pale skin.  Shadows danced over her flesh.  Solan swore he saw demons running over her skin but then again, he could be hallucinating.

“The spell works to slow down the opponent upon drawing blood.  It’s as though weight is added to compound the severity of your injuries.  The mind cannot process the additional weight so fast, so you end up spent before your much larger opponent.”

“No wonder he seemed so much faster.”

“I am Katherine, by the way.”  She threaded a needle and began stitching the wound in his arm.  “Most of your other wounds I can heal with magic if you will allow.  For now, you should rest.”

Solan started to protest but the pinch of her needle stopped him.  Then his stomach grumbled.

“I have no doubt a fierce warrior like you needs provisions.  I shall see to it that you are fed.  Right now, we’re hoping the blood we gave you remains in your system.”

He cocked a brow.  “My body could reject it?”

“While our magic is strong, our knowledge of medicines and the human body is…lacking.”  Her voice dropped.  Katherine looked away.

Though it pained him, Solan lifted his left arm, grit his teeth and touched her cheek.

He had no idea her skin would be so soft.

Running the pad of his thumb along her jawline, he turned her face toward him.  “I can only thank you for your kindness. If I can do…”

Katherine smiled.  “Your money would be no good here, warrior.  Do you…” she set a hand on his chest lightly, “have a name?”

Heat warmed him, hardened him.  Somehow through his wounds he could still feel intense desire for this woman.  Yet, a warrior’s name was something to share only with those whom the warrior trusted.  At that moment, Solan felt like he could trust her, even if she was one of the walking dead.  Yet, his eyes closed, breathing evened and warmth settled around him.

“Solan.”

“Very well, Solan.  I shall love you back to full health.”

The last thing he heard was the sound of her breathing before sleep overtook him.

Menage Bound – All Romance Ebooks

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-menagebound-904934-146.html

The story I’ve been talking about for the last few months is finally out!

Siddella is an overworked corporate executive with a simple fantasy: give up control to a skilled man. Better if there are two men.

Chase and Jason want someone to accept their relationship and sell to find a willing third partner, a woman who can fit right into their world of kink, bondage and sensual pleasure.

Only through madame Eve these three well meet but are they Menage Bound?

Published in: on August 2, 2012 at 9:49 am  Comments (1)  
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FREE for a few days more!

Out on Amazon now, The Playground. My very first 1Night Stand for Decadent Publishing. Released in January of 2012, this hot read has received favorable press from the review sites. And now you can try it for FREE (for a limited time)! Go here to grab it!

Jet setter and playboy Devon has a BDSM dark side he wants to make reality, only catch is the girl who would serve him perfectly left him years ago and is afraid of what living with him means. He’d given up all hope until he’d spotted Shelly waiting tables in the casino he happened to be sitting in. Using the 1NightStand service to find her, he sets her up in a park, and has her bound to some playground equipment with only a blindfold on. Can his Dominance teach her the meaning of true love? If you pick up the book, and enjoy it, please “Like” and leave all favorable reviews on Amazon! Sascha Illyvich http://saschaillyvichauthor.com

BDSM Unleashed Blog Hop

From the 14th of July to July 21st, we’re hopping on our love of kink!  Sensual, spicy, dangerous, yet desirable, BDSM encompasses all that can be in kink.  The sub genre of BDSM romance is in the top three selling sub genres of romance for a reason.

Readers read to escape, and erotic fantasies give them that escape, provided the author has done their job.

On this hop, we have a plethora of authors willing to showcase their craft, turn you on, tie you up and delight you with a selection of offerings from their catalogs, including mine.

Notable titles of mine include:

Surrender to Love
In order to cure the dreaded creative rut she’s in, Livia ends up in Las Vegas by suggestion from her therapist. Oh and there’s a catch. Livia‘s been set up to have a one night stand with a very handsome man who promises her freedom through submission. Can she surrender to more than just passion?

Forced Pleasure
Two more romantic tales of bondage from your humble author are served up in this collection. In Forced Pleasure, we have the struggle between want and need as Francine looks to help her relieve Micah’s stresses in a most unusual way only to realize that her lover Nick has plans of his own to handle both of their hearts. In Sweet Submission, Gawith is happy with his new kinky, poly family but the one thing that dogs him is the mistake he made with the woman who captured his heart.  Samantha is the perfect submissive, older, caring, loving and into the Lifestyle with just as much gusto as Gawith.  But his mistake could cost him the one thing he needs in order to be complete. BDSM tales in their own right are romance stories, though not always told in the typical fashion or given the typical outcome.  But to those who understand What It Is That We Do, there is a beauty never missed.

I Will Submit to You, Master
Mistress Jackie is a strong Domme, but Master Collin is stronger!  Can he convince her to give into her true nature as a submissive?

Siddella’s Surrender (A Ditter Tha Great favorite!)
Kinky Faeries with a Taste for B&D! Siddella, Thief of the Low Court of Faery, discovers she’s stolen something very valuable to the cybernetic ruling class. Crashing a party, she doesn’t realize that the Black Angus, Faery’s legendary guards are present. With voracious sexual appetites that make modern BDSM players cringe, she fears the Black Angus will find out her one most personal secret along with the data she stole. Lord Frika has organized the Black Angus in an assault on the cybernetic ruling class of the Unseelie Kingdom in an attempt to begin reversing the damage computers and technology have done to Faery. Seeing Siddella, he realizes that this little party crasher is more than just a thief and that she holds the key to not only restoring Faery but to his heart. Can an thief who values freedom fall in love with a fierce fighter with a taste for chaining his lovers and then degrading them in every way he can imagine? Can the two them work past personal issues to save Faery from a fate worse than death? Or will her forced surrender be too much for the Faery to handle? “A powerful look at domination!” -Sensual Romance Reviews

Now you’ve seen a snippet of my book list, check out other BDSM authors via the awesome folks at The Playroom



Published in: on July 14, 2012 at 1:58 am  Comments (33)  
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1NS Blog Hop July 5-8

The folks at Decadent are hyping up our 1 Night Stand books and inviting you to check them out!  I of course have two books in the line, plus one more on the way.  Today, I’ll share an excerpt from The Playground

Authors from Decadent Publishing’s popular 1Night Stand line are celebrating with a blog hop. Grand prizes include a Kindle Touch, a $50 Amazon.com gift certificate & more. Plus, giveaways at all 32 stops. This blog isn’t an official one and I’m hoping to pick up the SEO ;)

Jet setter and playboy Devon has a BDSM side he wants to make reality, the only catch is Shelly, the woman who would serve him perfectly left him years ago and is afraid of what living with him means. While in a Las Vegas casino he spots her.  Using 1Night Stand, he sets her up in a park, have her bound to playground equipment with only a blindfold on…and his Dominance to hopefully teach her the meaning of true love, using the one thing he knows will capture Shelly’s attention. 

Now for that excerpt:

Devon spotted her, several feet away.

Shelly stood, bound to a rung on monkey bars. Gray shorts clung to her and the black sports bra did little to hide the size of her lovely, round breasts. Hair cascaded down her back. Standing with legs spread, blindfolded, and arms secured to the monkey bars, she looked ready, inviting.

He stopped ten feet away from her, eyes drawn to nipples that poked the fabric.

Slowly, he drew closer.

The sun had just set beyond the horizon. A car passed occasionally in the distance.

Devon scanned the area for potential threats or discovery. There were plenty of trees and bushes to cover certain acts, but the dirtiness of fucking her on the playground equipment….

Well, that was a turn-on.

Hopefully, she’d feel the same.

Devon took a step closer. Then another, and another, until he could hear her breathing.

Clear, pale skin begged for his touch. Her hair appeared even thicker than he remembered. He wanted to touch it. Ached to feel its silky smoothness through his fingers.

But not yet.

“You’re Marcy now, hm?” He deepened his voice, hoping to disguise it.

She gasped, lifted her head. “That voice.”

Her throaty gasp hardened him so that his cock strained against his leather pants, making him itch to unzip himself and plunge into her.

But he couldn’t do that just yet.

“Yes. This voice. You know me, Shelly.”

Another gasp and rattle of ropes caught his attention until she spoke, “They told me I was getting a surprise if I’d only go along. I didn’t realize….”

She stopped.

He hated that she did that. “You always stopped talking before giving away your major point, dear.” He set a hand firmly against her warm skin, palms itching to taste more of her.

She was hard this time, flesh not nearly as soft and malleable as he remembered. Still, she was soft in the way only a woman could be. “You’ve had a hard life since we separated.”

She didn’t respond verbally, but the shake of her body into his hand, clued him in.

“You always had that way about you, Shelly. Why,” his hand roamed up her spine, fingers walking up it slowly, tiptoeing so light he could barely feel her, “do you do that defensive movement?”

“Because what you’re offering is putting me there.”

“I’m offering only,” his fingers crept up her neck, brushing through her thick mane, “what you need.”

“Ha!” She snorted. “You never offered what I needed. Only a misogynistic viewpoint of what you thought I wanted and needed. Just like this entire scenario.”

“Are you going to tell me,” he leaned into her body, so close he could smell her, taste her almost, “that if I slipped my finger beneath your shorts—”

“I wouldn’t cry rape?”

He feigned surprise. A hand cradled her ass, cupping her before giving it a firm squeeze.

Shelly squirmed against him but settled her ass into the palm of his hand like they’d never been apart. Her jaw tensed, muscles in her neck flexed.

He shook his head, “I didn’t think so. Besides, I’d never hurt you.”

She scoffed and turned her head away from him.

“I mean it. You and I were good together. Can be good again.”

“That’s why you hired an agency to bring us back together? What kind of coward—”

He brought his hand down against her ass.

She yelped and arched into the pain.

It must have been an unconscious act because she quickly moved away from his hand.

“I already had the ‘I’m a coward’ speech with myself. But you disappeared.” He stepped close enough to her now that he could smell the spicy scent of her arousal beginning to flow between those long, pale legs. His pulse quickened. “But I had to do something, and you obviously agreed to it.”

She sighed heavily. “Yes, I did.”

“You had to know it was me. You avoided coming near me, so you must have seen me.” He leaned closer, nostrils flaring at her scent.

Heat radiated off her, so much that it made him feel even warmer, standing a mere few inches away.

She shook her head. “Yeah, I did know you were there. But I had hoped I was seeing things. You haven’t been around.”

“You were the one who left me, as I recall.” It was hard to keep the curt tone out of his voice, even with her bound and practically naked before him. His hand moved from her ass to the small of her back, touching exposed flesh. “If you knew, then why did you come?”

“Madame Eve offered me a chance at the one thing I wanted. I hoped….” She didn’t finish her sentence.

His fingers walked back up the length of her spine, carefully caressing her flesh while raven colored silken strands fluttered between his fingers. “You wanted one more taste, too. Admit it.” His voice remained gruff, low. “You wanted to see for yourself that we had a chance.”

“Close,” she lowered her head, blatantly fighting the urge to arch further into his touch, “I wanted one last tryst, yes. When I received a text from Madame Eve telling me she’d been watching me, I freaked out. I wasn’t even aware of her service. I’ve been working here for two years now.”

He sighed. It had been two years since they last met, since last their flesh fell upon each other’s and hearts beat in tune before she walked out. “Yeah, Madame Eve is something else.”

Shelly nodded.

“Will you look at me if I remove the blindfold?”

She nodded again. “I can do that. I’d rather you release me.”

“The freedom I wish to give you,” he paused, reaching for her blindfold and tugging the knot free before moving to stand before her, “is the sort of freedom you’d cherish if you’d give in.”

Slowly, Shelly’s eyes widened in an emotion Devon couldn’t quite read.

Her arms still hung above her head, pushing well rounded breasts out beneath the tight, black sports bra. Her nipples were hard. He ran a hand over one.

She shuddered.

“You’re still lovely as ever.”

She sneered. “I’ve lost weight since last we…. I’m not what you think I am.”

He tilted his head slightly, dropped his voice to an almost whisper, “What do you think I believe you are?”

She shook her head, “You think I’m some sort of….” Her eyes lowered, she blinked then looked back at him with what seemed like steady resolve. “You think I’m some sort of toy to be used and….” She started stammering. “And a doormat.”

He gasped, “You got that how?”

She glared, thrust her bound wrists at him. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“You still agreed.”

 BUY The Playground at Decadent

Published in: on July 5, 2012 at 11:45 am  Comments (5)  
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Teaser Thursday – I Will Submit to You, Master

Photo belongs to original artist

In I Will Submit to You, Master,

Mistress Jackie is a strong Domme, but Master Collin is stronger!  Can he convince her to give into her true nature as a submissive?

Master Collin stepped through the door, shutting it with a soft click.  “Good afternoon sweet submissive.”

Jackie’s eyes riveted to his body, the sheer size of it.  Collin wore only a pair of black jeans, carried a whip in his hand.  His dark curls bounced over his ears and hung down just a little in front of his eyes, which gleamed even in the darkness.

She could easily make out the flames dancing in those eyes, the intense heat from them alone could melt steal.

Collin stepped closer, uncoiling the whip.  “You didn’t answer me,” he threw the whip out in front of him and pulled it back, trailing it behind him before flicking his wrist to make a tiny ‘pop’ sound.

Jackie stirred.  Looking up, she met his eyes and nodded.  “You’re right.  I was distracted.”

He looked around, waving a hand at the dungeon.  “This is my wife’s creation.  We had converted it into a spare bedroom many years ago but decided that we had enough spare bedrooms upstairs.  So it became our play room.”

Nodding, Jackie kept her eyes trained on the whip.

Collin moved it with snakelike precision, flicking it this way and that.  “I see something has caught your attention, Miss Jackie.”

The familiar use of her proper name would have comforted her but the tone Collin used made her sound more feminine than she really was.  “I hate the way you say my name.”

He lowered his chin and smiled.  “I know.”  Throwing his wrist forward, he cracked the whip gently to one side of her.

Jackie flinched, jerking her hips to one side.

Collin laughed lightly.  “Do you know how to use one of these?”

Lifting her chin, Jackie tried to avert her gaze from those dangerous eyes of his.  “Yes, I do. I’ve left some pretty marks on many a submissive.”

Collin cracked the whip a little harder on the other side of her body.

She jerked her hips in the opposite direction.

“With this one toy and a bit of control, I can warm up, inflict pain, and cool down a submissive, bringing them to a point in their heads where they crave not just the sting, but the caress of my lash.  I’ve seen what you’ve done to submissives and I have to say, your handiwork is nothing short of torture.”

Stiffening, Jackie felt her heart beat louder.  She clenched her fists together, aware that his gaze had traveled up and down the length of her body.  “Fuck you,” she spat the words out callously.

He grinned and worked the whip around his leg behind him.  “I’d like to. And I will but it’ll be when I say and only when I say.”

She rolled her eyes.

Stepping closer to her, he spoke dryly.  “I see you’re amused by the thought.  So,” laying the whip out in front of him, he dragged it back behind him and threw it forward, “I’ll show you what I mean by warming up.”

The whip popped just in front of her thigh.

Jackie tried not to flinch but couldn’t help the involuntary movement.  She kept her eyes on him, watching his muscles work with each throw.

Collin threw the whip forward again, taking a half inch step towards her.  The whip popped again, brushing her thigh just below her pussy.

Sucking in a breath, Jackie bit her lower lip.

He chuckled and threw the whip again.

It cracked a tad louder and brushed the same spot on the other thigh.

Again Jackie gasped.

An eyebrow rose. “Surprised?”

She nodded. “Yeah.  Real.”

“You should be.  It takes real talent to master a large bullwhip like this one.”  He cracked it again just at waist level.

Jackie forced herself to remain in place just to show she couldn’t be scared.

Setting up for the next crack, Collin drew the whip behind him and threw it forward.

The popper connected with her hip.

Stinging pain forced a breath from her.

Collin brought the whip in front of him and threw another crack that connected with Jackie’s other thigh.

Flinching, Jackie clutched the ropes that held her hands bound to the cross.  Warmth radiated from that last hit.

Another hit connected higher up on her hips on the same side.

The pain annoyed her but wasn’t anything she couldn’t manage.

Collin set up for another throw.  Using a side arm motion, he swung the whip again, crossing her rib.

Exhaling sharply, Jackie closed her eyes. Heat emanated from the point where the whip connected.

Collin took a full two steps back from Jackie.  “I could do this all night, but it only shows you one side of the whip. Do you understand?”

She snorted.  “I understand you like to hear yourself talk.”

Throwing his head back in laughter, he set a hand on his hip and threw the whip again.

It cracked with a loud boom that echoed in the tiny room and made the candles flicker.

Jackie squirmed away from the sound, forcing her body into the hard wood of the frame.

The music increased in volume.

“I could do that all night too, miss Jackie.’  He licked his lips and rubbed his chin with a hand. “But,” he sighed softly, “I’d rather not.  I’m not as full of myself as you might think.”

She tilted her chin up defiantly.  “Show me.”

Collin made a clucking noise with his tongue.  “I figured a skilled mistress like yourself would certainly know the difference between showing and telling.  And I’ve so far showed you one aspect of control.”  He reached for the zipper on his jeans and drew it down slowly.  His cock fell forward, heavy and huge.

Jackie couldn’t take her eyes off the swollen head that seemed to glisten with drops of precum.  Her heart thumped loudly in her chest in anticipation of what he planed to do with that lovely cock.  She fancied herself riding it and shook the notion from her head.  She was his superior, not his equal or submissive, damnit!

He gripped himself and began pumping.  “I can’t control this, it seems to have a mind of its own.  Just like you’re still so wet I can smell it from here.  But I can control the whip and the way I respond to your body.”  He stopped stroking himself and slowly put himself back together.

Jackie swore her mouth was watering now.  She knew she was soaked and cursed her traitorous body.

His voice remained cool, though Jackie could hear the strain in it.  “Control is a complex thing, Miss Jackie.  One moment we have it, the next we need something from someone else and must cede control.”

Easing her grip on the rope that gripped her flesh, Jackie shook her head as though trying to shake the image of his magnificent cock from her mind. “If we have everything we need, and can control our lives from start to finish, then we must never cede anything.”

“True, but when we die isn’t in our control. I mean we have some semblance of control over that fact but…”  He brought the whip around and threw it again.

The strike cut across her ribs.

The pop stung and brought immediate heat to the area.  Jackie hissed out a breath.  She hung her head and inhaled deeply.  Hair fell in front of her, auburn curls bobbing annoyingly in her face.

The whip soared through the air again, catching her on the side of her breast.

She hissed in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut tightly.  Tears threatened to sting the backs of her eyes.

The whip flew through the air, brushing her hair back.

Opening her eyes, she looked up to see him setting up for another throw.

Another strike caught her across the nipple.

A jolt of pain/pleasure spiked through her. Her pussy grew damper.  Clenching her thighs together was futile, leather restraints at the ankles held her legs firmly in place.

Pain shot through her from the next blow that caught her on the other nipple.

Panting, Jackie moaned, throwing her head back at the same time.

The whip cracked loudly in what Jackie knew was several feet away from her. She jerked anyway.

Seconds later, another strike caught her across the thigh.

Crying out, she strained against the cross, bucked and clutched the ropes.  By now her flesh was warm to the touch, the fire of lust radiating outward from her belly.  Even her toes curled in anticipation of the next strike.

Two more strikes landed on her breasts, digging into the flesh.

Tears fell from her eyes in a steady trail.

Her hair fell down around her face again.  She sobbed.

Tensing her muscles, she waited for the blow to land.

Instead, the whip popped loud enough to sound threatening but caressed her skin just opposite of where she’d been cut.

The sweetest caress of the whip fluttered over her stomach, tickling her.

Her laughter came out as a choked sound through the sniffle and tears.

The whip flew through the air once again, darting over her nipple light enough that she wasn’t sure that the fluff of the cracker even connected.  Another spike of pleasure shot through her.

Collin cleared his throat.

The movement drew her focus back from her body and her head to Collin instead.  “I believe I’ve proven my point about control.

Jackie turned away from him, shutting her eyes.

Not more than a few seconds later, Collin’s body pressed against hers so tightly that she wasn’t sure any light could be seen between them.

The warmth of his body upon hers sent her heart racing even faster. By now she was panting harder and straining more against the restraints.

His eyes narrowed, forehead pressed against hers.  “I love the rise and fall of your lovely breasts when I whip them. Do you like when I whip them, Jackie?”

His gruff voice filled her ears, rumbled through her body.  Deep baritone growls came from his chest sent liquid pooling faster between her thighs.

He cupped her and slid a long finger inside her.

Her breath hitched.

He growled low again.  “I demand an answer, little girl.”

She tore her face away from his, yet felt the contact so close on her body that it burned still.  “No, I don’t like it!”

Fingers tweaked a hardened nipple into a harder peak.  “Your body lies to you, Jackie.”

She squirmed against him, thrashing about.  The only thing her movements did was draw him closer to her.

He pressed his hips against hers, nudging her with the thick cock behind those rough black jeans.  He wriggled his finger inside her, brushing over her clit.

She sobbed and gripped his fingers with her muscles.

His lips curled upward in a smile against her lobe.  “You’re sucking my finger hungrily, little girl.  I like that.  I guess that means being whipped aroused you, doesn’t it?”

His question was met with an angry stare.  By now she fumed, despite the raging lust that had built inside her.  She was damned if she was going to answer him with a positive response. He had no right to make her question her status or how she felt about her own body.  “I hate you!”

He shoved another finger inside of her. “You’re so tight, Jackie. Why?  Never let anyone close enough to fuck you?”

She spat out the words. “Piss off.”

Collin growled.  He reached up with one hand and undid the restraints holding her hands back.

Jackie felt blood return to her limbs.

Collin stepped back and undid the snaps on the leather restraints holding her feet in place.

Stumbling, she fell forward into his arms.

He caught her by the elbows and held her up.  With one hand, he tilted his chin to hers.  Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her hard and fast, conquering her with his lips.  Plundering her mouth with his tongue, he swept it across her swollen bottom lip.

She opened for him despite intense hatred that she had difficultly maintaining. The way he tasted, oh goddess! The coffee and spice from breakfast along with his natural masculine musk threatened to overwhelm her senses.  Her knees trembled beneath her.

He supported her with his own weight, lowering them both to the floor.

Her ass brushed against the concrete first.

Collin’s strength was demanding, yet gentle and guiding.  “Damn you,” she cried against his mouth.

“Why?”  He pulled back and forced her to look at him.

BUY FROM AMAZON

Published in: on July 4, 2012 at 2:16 am  Leave a Comment  
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777 Game for writers

Well it’s not really a game, since writers don’t have time to play games haha, and there are no losers (except those that don’t post, you suck, you lose BWAHAHA!) but I got tagged by an author, thought I’d post a “snippet” of what’s to come from my bdsm anthology with Margie Church, Marianne LaCroix and Bonni Sansom.
The story is called “Finding Eternity” and is about a warrior who’s destiny IS the vampire heroine who rescues him from himself…

Solan smelled iron, blood, metal, flesh, life.  Then her feminine scent washed over him.

Her hand found the back of his head, lifted it to her and pressed harder into him, deepening the kiss.

Thrusting his tongue into her mouth only made her taste more intense.   Soft curves surrounded him.  Her fingernails trailed down the length of his arm, stopping at his wrist.

He broke from the kiss and stared at her.  Reaching for her face, he cupped her cheek, ran the pad of his thumb along her jawline.  “What…are you doing?”

Like he didn’t know.

Katherine blinked again, offered him a weak smile.  Her mouth moved, no sound came out.

“Do you want to sate me?”  His words rang out in the empty room. “Do you want me, Katherine?”

Need flashed in her eyes.  He watched flames of desire appear to lick her skin as more shadows danced over her flesh.  “I do.”

“Then,” he moved out from under her and rolled her onto her back, “We do this my way.”

In seconds, she lay flat on her back, pinned to the mattress.  He straddled her, the hem of his kilt lifted slight, exposing his thighs.

She fumbled to touch him, even as her surprised expression changed to lust.  Her eyes remained half open, mouth parted.  “Take me if you’re going to, sate your needs with my body.”

It had been so long, Solan couldn’t remember when last he’d spilled his seed in a woman’s womb.  “Yes, I will.”  He almost growled.

Katherine shifted beneath him so his erection would settle between her thighs.

He ran his hands up and down the length of her sides before drawing her arms above her head.

She bent to his will, despite the fact that she could probably kill him in his weakened state.  Hell, even if he were at full strength, the power of a vampire was said to be unimaginable.  Yet, she moved pliantly beneath him.

He held her wrists with one hand, noticed how small they were.  Delicate bone structure, he decided.  Her breasts jutted up at him.  With his free hand, he traced a finger over her exposed flesh, enjoying how she shuddered beneath just the slightest touch.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, and ripped the top of her dress, exposing round, creamy breasts.

Before she could response, he lowered his mouth to her breast, took a nipple in between his teeth and scraped his tongue over the tight nub.

She sucked in a hard breath, arched beneath him and cried out.

He pulled the puckered nipple deeper into his mouth while grinding his hips into hers.

Hands caught the hem of his kilt, lifted the thick material up.

Solan moved from one breast to the other, dragging his tongue over heated flesh.

He popped her other nipple out of his mouth, the sound echoing loudly.  “I thought vampires were cold to the touch.”

She looked away, her hair spilling over the pillow in a glorious blanket he needed to thread his fingers through, “You have stirred something in me, szeretőm.  My flesh is heated by your…affection.”

 

I’m posting more than seven lines…it’s funny I got tagged for this game because the song I plotted part of this story to is “Seven Lives” by In Strict Confidence

 

I think is has potential LOL!

Published in: on June 30, 2012 at 12:09 pm  Leave a Comment  
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