Monday, May 30, 2016

I Like to Be Tied Up

It’s not that I thought the transition from fantasy kink to real life kink would be easy, it’s that I didn’t think about it at all. After years of hoovering novels about kink and thinking about it all the time, it was a big deal for me to show up in person to real events. That seemed like the big hurdle.

At the time, I identified as a submissive. I didn’t really know the difference between submissive and bottom. I didn’t know a lot of other words. I knew I was into bondage and pain. I didn’t know that it was possible to be into only one of those, or both, or neither, or other things altogether.

I think part of the problem was the novels I’d read. In those books, the narrative focus was often on making a woman admit she was submissive. That seemed to mean gets-wet-when-ordered-around. I don’t recall coming across novels that told a story about a submissive woman painstakingly defining the nuances of her identity, though perhaps they exist. In most of what I read, tops defined the identities of submissives for them.

I could write a long, long essay, and probably also a novel, about my relationship to the word submissive alone.

The Many Note Challenge got me thinking about something that seems much simpler than that on the surface: trying to tell people you’re into rope.

For the challenge, I showed a variety of moods, a lot of different ways rope might feel to two people who are playing with it. That points to a problem I experienced when trying to move from fantasy kink to real life kink. At first, I thought all I needed to tell people was, “I want to be tied up.”

It felt that way at first, especially when I was bursting with enthusiasm and it seemed like any way of being tied up would be great with me. I just had a bottomless (haha) urge to have someone put rope on me.

Over time, though, I started to notice dissonances when I talked to other people who liked to be tied up.


Here are some examples of questions that point to possible distinctions:

Do you like to be tied up to look pretty?

Do you like to be tied up to feel athletic?

Do you like to be tied up in a way that’s uncomfortable?

Do you like for sexual things to happen after you’re tied up?

Do you like for painful things to happen after you’re tied up?

Are painful things sexual to you?

Does being tied up put you into a particular mood? (Do you feel helpless, silly, excited, sleepy, etc?)

Do you like to be tied up in a way that challenges you?

Do you like to be tied up in a way that comforts you?

Are there shapes/ties that feel particularly good to your body? That feel particularly bad to your body?


I could go on and on.

Of course, the questions I just wrote are from a bottom’s perspective. I have much less experience topping, but I do have a little. Here are some top-perspective questions I can think of, even with that limited background, that reveal similar shades in what’s interesting to different people:

Do you like to tie people up as an end in itself?

Do you like to tie people up as a means to some other end?

Do you like to tie up someone who is very obedient about it?

Do you enjoy a battle of wills with the person you’re tying up?

Do you focus on creating particular designs with your rope?

Do you enjoy when the person you’re tying up reacts in particular ways?

Do you like to institute protocol around tying someone up?

Does tying someone up put you in a particular mood? (Do you feel powerful, nervous, serious, giggly, etc?)


I’m sure people could add to either set of questions.

The point I’m making is that even if people’s interests sound similar on the surface (i.e. “We both like to be tied up!”), there can be a lot of difference in what that means to them, or what they like about those activities.

In the kink community, it took me years before I could articulate that, and before I learned to ask questions like what I listed above and have discussions around them. (Otherwise, it’s possible to end up in situations when you’re wondering when the hell the sexy part is going to start as a top painstakingly ties decorative rope all over your body, while for them the experience is about giving you a gift and crafting a lovely piece for you to wear… Or thousands of other mismatched situations.)

As a writer, I think this incredible multiplicity is really good news. One of the main things I took away from the Many Note Challenge was that I could probably have kept going for weeks, writing dozens of vastly different vignettes around the same simple box tie. Even of the six I wrote, two grabbed me enough that they made me want to expand them into larger stories.

If I introduced just a shade more variation—say, putting three characters there instead of two—I could write dozens more. There’s so much to explore.

And every time we, as writers, get into subtleties about who the people we’re writing about are and why they’re engaging in these particular acts, we’re creating more ways that people can possibly identify with our work. One of my favorite things as an erotica reader is finding a description of a mood I’ve felt but never quite articulated, or of a mood I’d like to try to feel.

So, here’s to many notes!

Sunday, May 29, 2016

The Many Note Challenge, Part Three

On Friday, I made up an exercise for myself: writing the same basic scene with a variety of moods. These are the last two entries in that short series, and I’ve gotten a lot out of the experience—I hope you enjoyed reading them.

Remember, If you think it would be interesting to do this, too, I invite you to participate. I kept the dialogue and specific actions very similar in mine—you could imitate that, or go your own way. Feel free to tag me on Twitter @AnnabethLeong with what you come up with. I would be so excited to see how others might present the same simple action.

And you can find out about the back story and read the other vignettes here and here.

(Image by Beverly Yuen Thompson, licensed under Creative Commons)


She pulls my arms behind my back, and instantly my mind goes blank. From the moment I saw the rope out of the corner of my eye, my worries began to drain away. I don’t need to be anything special now. I don’t even really need a name. I’m just hers. Meditation’s got nothing on this.

“You ready?” She knows how fast I drop into that wordless place. I smile, because I know the question is a bit of a tease.

To tease her back, I don’t use words to answer. I just nod.

My body knows this position. Arms behind, chest pushed forward, wrists lined up with elbows. At first, I couldn’t get into the classic, traditional shape of this, but this is my peace, my personal version of yoga. I’ve practiced a lot, so now I slide into place easily as she guides me with her hands. She pulls my head back, emphasizing the arch of my neck and spine. I feel so beautiful this way.

She begins to loop rope around my wrists. I can feel the coarseness of the fibers, but I remind myself that I don’t have to react to it. I don’t have to squirm or move at all. My breathing is slow, and I focus on making it even slower.

“Hold still,” she teases, kissing the back of my head. “I won’t get this on right if you can’t hold still.” I can hear in her voice that her eyebrow is arched and one side of her mouth quirked up.

I don’t vary my breathing or position in the slightest. I’m already a statue. It’s amazing how powerfully I can tease back without doing anything at all.


I pull her arms behind her back with a jerk, fast and sharp to force her breath from her chest. Today I feel like playing rough.

“You ready?” I growl into her ear.

She nods.

The next few seconds are about me showing her she isn’t ready. Chest forward—farther than she wants it. Arms back—higher than she instinctively goes, and then an inch higher still. I know she can take this, and today I need to make it hurt. I pull until I hear her breath catch, then freeze there, watching her realize I’m going to tie her just like this, all the way at the limit of the position her body can hold. Her eyes widen. I pinch the inside of her wrist to see if I can make her gasp, and she flings her head back. She whimpers and looks helpless, and that’s what I need. Today I want to be the predator. I want to feel big and frightening and strong.

I begin looping the rope around her wrists. I want the coarse fibers to burn, and I zip them over her skin fast enough to leave marks. She squirms in discomfort, and that makes me smile. My head rushes with the force of the power she’s giving me.

“Hold still,” I tell her, my voice heavy with ironic sweetness. The rope and I are holding her tightly enough that there’s already not much room for her to move. I kiss the back of her head. I always like that sort of gesture while I’m being vicious—it emphasizes everything about the situation. “I won’t get this on right if you can’t hold still.”

Really, I hope she moves. If she gives me an excuse to punish her right now, god knows I’ll take it. I’m not sure how hard she wants to play. I’m hoping she wants to go all the way today, like me.


Obviously, one could keep going basically forever. It would be interesting to do this with different gendered partners, different numbers of partners, and on and on. I hope you've enjoyed this series!

Saturday, May 28, 2016

The Many Note Challenge, Part Two

I got inspired yesterday to show the same BDSM situation in a variety of moods. These are my next two vignettes, both from the perspective of the top.

Remember, If you think it would be interesting to do this, too, I invite you to participate. I’m keeping the dialogue and specific actions very similar for fun—you could imitate that, or go your own way. Feel free to tag me on Twitter @AnnabethLeong with what you come up with. I would be so excited to see how others might present the same simple action.

And you can find out about the back story and read the first two vignettes here.

(Image by Beverly Yuen Thompson, licensed under Creative Commons)


When I pull her arms behind her back, I have a moment of panic. I definitely don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, technically I do—I’ve gone through books carefully, taken classes, even practiced on her—but nothing could have prepared me for actually trying to top her. I started feeling shy the moment I picked up my rope, and when her eyes widened when she noticed it, I wanted to just drop it and run away.

“You ready?” I say into her ear, trying to imitate the toppy growl I’ve heard instructors use.

She nods.

She lets me guide her into position. It’s incredible how pliable her body is under my hands. She’s smooth as a dancer, and I get distracted worrying that I won’t lead as well as people who’ve tied her in the past. Still, she ends up mostly in the right attitude—arms behind her, chest pushed forward. She flings her head back and presses a random kiss to the side of my forehead—the spot she happens to be able to reach.

I try not to let that distract me, and begin looping rope around her wrists. She squirms, and I realize the coarse fibers are tickling her as they drag across her skin. I’m not putting rope on the back of a chair—I’m putting it on a person, my lover, someone I’m supposed to be connected to.

I pull her closer and take a deep breath. “Hold still.” I kiss the back of her head, slow this down for a moment so I can gather my thoughts. I remember that she knows me, and she knows about my experience—or lack thereof. I don’t have to pretend to be Miss Toppy Top. “I won’t get this on right if you can’t hold still,” I confess, and she doesn’t have to say anything back to make me feel her gentle, unwavering support as I go on with the tie.


I pull her arms behind her back, careful of her range of motion. I know what an act of trust it was for her to ask for this. Every takate-kote is individual, and I push down a flash of anger at the top who hurt her, the one who tried to force her unique body into position as if the rope was a cookie-cutter and she was a raw piece of rolled dough.

“You ready?” I murmur. I’m watching her carefully for signs of discomfort, my fingers light on her left shoulder joint, the one where she said she had the problem last time.

She gives me a nervous smile and nods.

I feel so protective of her. I guide her toward position, but not into position—I told her when we negotiated this that she would be the one to decide how far she wanted to stretch, but I show that, too, with the gentleness of my hands, the looseness of my grip. She pushes her chest forward, and puts her right arm all the way behind her, though I’m glad to see she doesn’t strain the elbow, letting her forearm fall into an obtuse angle. Her left arm nudges back, but not far.

She flings her head back, fixing me with a rueful stare. “It won’t be a real takate-kote,” she moans, looking ashamed.

I begin looping rope around her wrists. I let her feel the coarseness of the fibers, knowing that sometimes sensations like that can help people get out of their heads and into their bodies. “Who says it won’t be real?” I ask her. “It’s real to me. It can be to you, too, if you let it.”

She squirms.

“You feeling okay?” I ask. “You still want to do this?”

She nods again.

“Then hold still.” I kiss the back of her head to make the command as gentle as possible. “I want to be precise here, and that’ll work best if you hold still.”


Check back tomorrow for my last two vignettes!

Friday, May 27, 2016

The Many Note Challenge

Today, I got into a conversation on Twitter with @TGStoneButch (who writes incredible erotica under the name Xan West) about the way that representations of kink can sometimes feel one-note, as if there’s only one way to react to certain sensations and experiences.

I commented that this phenomenon feels isolating to me. As someone who always worried that my sexual reactions were “wrong,” sometimes the experience of reading kink erotica or hearing presentations at cons can make me feel alone in an environment where I had hoped to be included.

I think it’s really important to think about how the same actions might be given and received from very different perspectives.

Indeed, what kicked off that conversation was something from the Forbidden Fiction release party last night. There, I was talking about how I initially got a thrill from seeing trangressive words or actions in erotica, but that over time that faded. Now, what gets me—interested and/or aroused—is characterization and psychological intent. All of which depends on the opposite of that one-note approach.

It’s serious, important stuff, and I want to think a lot more about it. That led me to an idea for a fun exercise.

I want to show this variety of characterization and intent in action. So I’ve written a series of short snippets about the same simple activity, each one demonstrating a different mood. I’m calling it the Many Note Challenge.

The activity I’ve focused on is the tying of a takate kote—a box tie that fastens a rope bottom’s arms behind their back.

I wrote six of them. I’ll post the first two now (so I’m never showing one mood in isolation!), and then the rest over the course of the weekend. The first ones I wrote were from the bottom’s perspective, but I wound up writing an even number from the top’s as well.

If you think it would be interesting to do this, too, I invite you to participate. I’m keeping the dialogue and specific actions very similar for fun—you could imitate that, or go your own way. Feel free to tag me on Twitter @AnnabethLeong with what you come up with. I would be so excited to see how others might present the same simple action.

(Image by Beverly Yuen Thompson, licensed under Creative Commons)


When she pulls my arms behind my back, I giggle. From the moment I caught sight of her rope out of the corner of my eye, I knew playtime was about to start. Just that word, playtime, makes me happy. I feel like a kid again, being just naughty enough to have a good time.

“You ready?” She purrs into my ear.

I nod.

I feel silly in the position she guides me into—arms behind me, chest pushed forward. I ham it up, flinging my head back as if I’m on the cover of an old-style romance novel and she’s ravishing me. We both giggle this time.

She begins to loop rope around my wrists. Its coarse fibers tickle me, and I squirm in her arms.

“Hold still,” she admonishes playfully, kissing the back of my head. “I won’t get this on right if you can’t hold still.”


When she pulls my arms behind my back, I drop straight into the feelings I normally pretend I don’t have. Rage. Helplessness. Rage. From the moment I caught sight of the rope out of the corner of my eye, I knew where she wanted to take me. I think I can do this today—I think I want to—but I can never quite be sure until it’s happening.

“You ready?” She whispers into my ear.

If this goes the way we both want it to, it’ll clean me out, leave me exhausted but purified, give her the feeling that she does have a way to reach the deep parts of me that I normally keep from her. If it doesn’t—well, we’ll have a long conversation ahead. Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.

“If either of us says no at any time, everything stops, right?”

We both know that, but I always have to say it.

“Of course,” she says. Her fingers tighten on my arms, and I can feel how badly she wants this.

I nod. “Go ahead.”

She guides me into position—arms back, chest forward. I already hate it. There’s a slight strain on my shoulders and an unpleasant stretch across my sternum. I fling my head back to get a big, clean breath of air as I endure it. I remind myself that I usually like what I find on the other side of a session like this.

She begins to loop rope around my wrists. The sensation of its coarse fibers gives me slight relief from the stormclouds already gathering in my head. I squirm in her arms, trying to feel more of them.

“Hold still,” she admonishes, giving the back of my head a kiss that I know is meant to show she’s not upset with me. “I won’t get this on right if you can’t hold still.”


That's it for today. Check back tomorrow for the next two vignettes!

Thursday, May 26, 2016

Chat With Me Tonight!

Tonight is the release party for Timeless Lust in the Ancient World!

I'll be online from 5-8 pm ET, posting excerpts, answering questions, and chatting with the other authors. I'll be talking about The Snake and the Lyre (based on the myth of Orpheus), Andromache's Prize (about the aftermath of the Trojan War), and Hunting Artemis (in which the famously virginal goddess makes love to a worshiper through a surrogate).

Join us at this link, from 5-10 pm ET!

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Guest Post: Show Me, Sir

I know Sonni de Soto's work from the excellent Between the Shores: Erotica with Consent. That book focuses on negotiation scenes (with a special focus on scenes in which characters say no to something), and I would basically hit the buy button immediately for any author who appeared in it. I had the great honor of copy editing Between the Shores, and that meant I got to read every story with particularly careful attention, getting to know each on a really deep level.

So I was excited to see that Sonni de Soto's been doing work since then. I'm especially tickled that in the excerpt she provided from her new book, which I'll share below, a character tells another character no—in a hot, erotic context, where there's clearly a lot of desire building up as well.

I had some reservations about the language used to describe the book—to me, it sounded a bit like the book might be about knocking down a feminist viewpoint, which does bother me. However, after reading excerpts and checking out the author's blog, I think the idea is more to highlight that empowerment is about choice, and that part of feminism is supporting women's right to make choices about themselves, their behavior, and their lives. That's something I can get behind, for sure. Sonni de Soto provided a few highlighted quotes to go along with her post, and I chose one that makes that message even clearer.

I also paused at "shamelessly deviant." It was helpful to me to read this post about de Soto's goals for Show Me, Sir. Based on that post, the book sounds like an interesting experiment in negotiation between people with two radically different starting viewpoints.

As much as this story is one about discovering kinks and fetishes, this is a story about uncovering truth. The truth that there is nothing wrong with being a kinkster, just as there is nothing wrong with being vanilla.

I'd highly recommend checking out her Tumblr in general. She posts interesting stuff about kink and relationships, and also short stories.


Show Me, Sir by Sonni de Soto

This novel contains explicit sexual scenes including bondage and voyeurism.

Max Wells is a ball-busting, ass-kicking testament to female empowerment, who’s yet to meet the person who can push her down.

Until she meets a man she only knows as Sir.

Shamelessly deviant, Hayato knows exactly what Max thinks of Dominants like him. So ready to dismiss his lifestyle, she’s the type to assume she knows everything about it and him after one cursory glance from the outside in. But, looking at Max—at her intelligence and passion—he can see more in her than the misconceptions she’s deliberately blinding herself with.

And, determined, he plans to show her more.

Max and Hayato engage in a dance of wit, will, and seduction as they negotiate roles, rewrite rules, and learn the true meaning of empowerment.

But, just as their game heats up, it gets used against them. Seeking to punish them with their play, someone threatens to drag their private lives out into the public spotlight.

With high stakes and bitter scandal looming over their heads, Max and her Sir will have to work together to show that what the world thinks they are does not define who they are.


“I’m looking at you, Max.” She watched his firm mouth – his tongue and teeth – form the words. “I like looking at you.” His smooth voice flowed over her senses. “I want to touch you.”

Her breath caught and her eyes opened wide.

Okay, too much. That was way too much.

Having him there, having him watch her, felt wicked and dangerous and was toeing an erotic line that Max had never known.

She couldn’t imagine what having him touch her would be like.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“You said you wouldn’t,” she reminded him, wavering between want and worry.

“I said I wouldn’t pay to do so,” he clarified, his hand reaching out to stroke a fallen strand of her vibrant hair. “When I touch you, it won’t be for any other reason than I want to and you want me to as well.” Curling the strand around his fingers, he tested its texture and feel. “Tell me you want me to.”

She shivered. It didn’t feel safe – him behind her, fully dressed while she was half-naked. It didn’t feel safe to be in a room full of mirrors with Hallie somewhere in the store. It was frightening and intense. Frightening because it was so intense.

“Imagine it.” He let his hand slide through the thick mass of her hair. “Think about how good it’ll be when I place my hands all over your soft body. Think about how wet I can make you, not just slick but soaked.” He paused, his gaze stroking south. “You’re already more than halfway there, aren’t you?” He leaned in close, his hot breath caressing the delicate, sensitive curve of her ear. “Just say the words. Tell me what we both know you want.”

God, she did. God help her, she wanted this man to touch her, to stroke her, to fuck her. He made her body feel weak with need and consumed by mindless desire. She wanted him to touch. She wanted to touch. She wanted to strip and be stripped and to drown in the promise his hot gaze held.

“Say it.”

She wanted to. So badly.

She opened her mouth. “No.”

She wanted him, everything he was offering her, so much her body hummed with it.

And it scared her.

What kind of woman – what kind of modern, independent, strong, and smart woman – was she that she would let him have this much power over her? Was a word away from becoming a puddle of sexual putty in his hands? He was turning her into something she’d spent her entire life rejecting.

What was wrong with her?

Her attention snapped back, her worry turning into panic, then an unexpectedly feral snarl, low and perilous, rumbled deep in his throat. She flinched, afraid to look at him. Afraid to move or speak or breathe while the beast inside the man clenched.

She’d never felt so naked, so vulnerable and helpless, in her life.

Finally, she braved a look up, readying herself for his ire, sure he would storm ahead or storm away.

But he just nodded stiffly, his face and body held rigidly in control. She watched his nostrils flare and a muscle in his jaw tick. The fire in his eyes burned even as cold ice hardened them. They narrowed on her predatorily.

Slowly, each movement precise and exact, he reached inside his jacket, pulling another sheet from his pocket. Holding it up like a dare, he said in a low, calm, articulated voice, “Touch yourself.”

Author bio:

Sonni de Soto is an Asian kinkster of color, who loves and lives the lifestyle when she can. Her work involves The Taming School and Show Me, Sir, as well as stories in Between the Shores: Erotica With Consent and The First Annual Geeky Kink Anthology. Like any good nerd, she loves learning new and interesting things about science, art, culture, and, of course, sex and love. She’s always thrilled to hear from readers.



Where to buy Show Me, Sir:

Amazon UK
Amazon US

The Best Places for Timeless Lust

If you're into fascinating places, I've got a treat for you today. I've got the chance to share all kinds of details about the settings for the stories in Timeless Lust in the Ancient World, a new anthology from Forbidden Fiction (which includes three stories from me!).

Forbidden Fiction asked the book's authors the following question:

Describe the setting you used for your story. Why did you pick this particular place?

Read on for their answers (and for a glimpse at the covers for their stories)!

Jess Lea:

Keeper of the Bed Chamber:
This story is set in Alexandria at the end of the period of Hellenic rule. Like many people, I've long been fascinated by ancient Alexandria: a city famous for its architectural splendor, its financial wealth, its vibrant mix of cultures, and its intellectual and artistic achievements. The fascination is partly because, while we have so many stories of this ancient city, we have relatively little hard evidence: foreign invasions and natural disasters destroyed much of the ancient capital, and it's only now that significant relics are being recovered from the nearby sea bed. For a story about characters who are both infamous and strangely undocumented, Alexandria seemed a perfect setting.

Slave Nano:

The Nemesis Bird:
The Nemesis Bird is set in Ishfahan. Given that the story was inspired by The Tales of the Arabian Nights, this was a natural choice for the setting. It establishes the association with the original tales and places the story firmly within its Arabian context. Also, I just love the sound of the word. The name Ishfahan conjures up so many evocative images of exotic markets, embroidered slippers, scimitars and minarets. Now that relations between the west and Iran have improved, I've got it on my bucket list of places to go!

Maurin Piper:

Touched by Fire:
Touched by Fire is set in Ancient Rome, in the Temple of Vesta, which I picked for the obvious reason of if you want to write about Vestal Virgins, you’ve got to go to them because they can’t come to you. On a bigger scale I chose Ancient Rome because of unique way they lived, the opposing ways they lived. At one end of the scale they were enlightened enough to create most of the societal structure that we still live in today and yet, there were so many confines within these structures. And that creates the perfect place for a forbidden love, in one of those niches where everyone else seems to have a freedom that you are denied.

Konrad Hartmann:

Lot’s Sin:
I didn't explore the geography of the setting, but it appears that the story of Lot and his daughters has them going to the mountains near Zoar. My short story focuses on the events within their cave shelter, and so doesn't really take place within Sodom. I wanted to focus on the sudden isolation of the family, and the unfolding of events outside of social norms. Lot begins to have visions, while his daughters conceive of a taboo plot. Perhaps these things wouldn't have happened but for the catastrophe visited upon Sodom, and the lack of community restraints or influences on the characters.

Arena’s Breed:
I set the story in Carnuntum, around 300 AD. In recent years, a sizeable gladiator school was discovered at this location. Stories involving ancient Rome almost always take place within the city of Rome, but it was quite a large empire, and must have differed greatly in its various locations, and in the variety of its residents. I find frontiers interesting, and Carnuntum was at the edge of the Empire.

Annabeth Leong:

Hunting Artemis:
“Hunting Artemis” is set on Delos, a Greek island known for its archaeological treasures and role in mythology. I chose Delos because it’s traditionally considered the birthplace of Artemis, and as such it made sense as the location for a community of devoted priestesses.

The Snake and the Lyre: The primary setting for this story is my take on the underworld of Greek mythology. I’ve always been fascinated by the story of Orpheus—ranging from the versions found in books of myth to that of Claudio Monteverdi’s opera, Orfeo. The way I describe the underworld, there are a lot of vipers there. I wrote it that way to connect it to one traditional explanation of how Orpheus’s wife Eurydice died—that she was bitten by a viper. I think having vipers appear in the underworld makes her death appear more purposeful and fated.

Andromache’s Prize:
“Andromache’s Prize” is set in a wasted, apocalyptic setting of the past—the battlefields of Troy after everyone who’s able to leave has gone home. When writing stories that converse with well-known works, I find it helpful to search for gaps where new ideas can be inserted. Many Greek and Roman works refer to what happened in the aftermath of the Trojan War, but for the most part it’s not seen “onscreen.” Because of that, it felt like a fertile site for my own creative exploration and elaboration.

Mina Kelly:

Never Before Touched by Cupid:
The story is set at Maecenas's villa in Rome. I wanted a space where it made sense for Horace and Virgil to be meeting Propertius for the first time, somewhere luxurious and decadent and a little wild. Maecenas's gardens were infamous. He was frowned upon for the expense he lavished on them, with all the latest innovations and trends. He even went so far as to install heated baths, the world's first hot tubs!

Natasha Neil:

Hera’s Punishment:
Hera's Punishment is set mostly in Mount Olympus, home of the Greek gods. I've often wondered what the place where the gods lived would be like. I think in many myths we imagine Mount Olympus, like Hades, as "over there," a place that is an unseen idea. The gods live in the clouds. They are "up there." But what's happening up there? It's where the gods fight and make love, hold council, argue and feast. It is the place from which they watch mortals and decide who they want to bless, curse or bed. Even though Hera and Zeus could go anywhere in Ancient Greece, it seemed likely that the action between them would occur in Olympus. The earth can be their playground, but the skies are their home.

Elly Green:

Scylla’s Pool:
Scylla is recorded, by ancient authors, as living somewhere along the craggy coastline of Sicily or Italy. Having never been to this part of the world, I had to use the ever so helpful Google to figure out where she might have made her home. It wasn't easy as, currently, most of that land is occupied by sprawling cities and suburbs. Thus, a lot of my descriptions are completely made up. However, regarding Circe's home, I did use the ancient authors' descriptions of her island - Homer specifically talks of a large house surrounded by a forest with a myriad of beasts wandering amok - and a handful of paintings - Waterhouse's Circe, Strudwick's Circe and Scylla, and Burne-Jones' The Wine of Circe - to lead my imagination. I will admit to downplaying Circe's wealth a bit and putting her in a more humble, weathered home than a marble-encrusted palace. That decision was fueled by a desire for my readers to feel pity for the sorceress, instead of indignation.


We've put together a lot of cool "bonus content" to accompany Timeless Lust in the Ancient World—there's much more where this came from! You can see all the links here (including links to a giveaway where you'll get a chance to win a copy of the book!)

We'll also be having a release party tomorrow evening. I'll be online with other authors chatting about the stories and the inspirations behind them. I'll be there from 5-8 pm ET Thursday, May 26, but I know other authors will be on later than me. (The party goes until 10 pm ET). Follow this link to check it out.

And if your interest is piqued and you'd like to pick up the book, you can find it here.

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Now is the Time for Timeless Lust

Out today, friends! Timeless Lust in the Ancient World is the newest anthology from Forbidden Fiction, and it contains three stories from me.

Here's what it's about:

"There have always been lusts that transcend limits. The rush of fire in the blood, the hunger for touch, the compulsion to bury oneself in the flesh of another. Ancient storytellers enraptured audiences with tales of love and lust, of the dangerous passions of gods and heroes and monstrous creatures, pursued sometimes to destruction.

These modern interpretations of those ancient themes span histories and cultures from Greece and Rome to Egypt and the Holy Lands, stories of love and betrayal, of vengeful gods and goddesses, and pleasurable peace. There is much more to a palace eunuch than meets the eye. One man must face his greatest sins, while another battles to save his lover’s life. A woman must balance appeasing her ethereal deity and her earthly desires, and another is imprisoned behind the bars of a gilded cage.

Eleven tales of intense lust in the ancient world crafted by ForbiddenFiction’s best authors, ready for you to peel back the cover and indulge your carnal appetites."

The staff at Forbidden Fiction have put together a lot of treats to accompany this book. I wrote a bunch of behind the scenes info for all three stories, and the authors did interviews giving even more insights into the underpinnings of and inspiration for the stories. You can find a complete list of the posts here. You can also watch this space—tomorrow, I'll be posting information about the ancient world settings used in the book—both historical and mythical.

Also, on Thursday evening, I'll be participating in the release party chat. I'll be online with several other authors talking about the book, sharing hot excerpts, and answering questions. My time slot is 5-8 pm ET, May 26th, but other authors will be on later—going until about 10 pm ET. You can join us by clicking this link at the appropriate time.

And don't forget to check out the book!

Saturday, May 21, 2016

A Change of Perspective

I had stepped into someone else's life. Everything I had on was new or rented—the tuxedo, the shining black leather shoes, the binder that concealed my breasts, the cock stuffed into the front of my pants.

The woman on the other end of the leash I was holding didn't belong to me either. Kristina, my best friend, had begged me to put on this show for just one night, for just this party, and I had agreed.

I had stripped her naked, buckled her into a leather collar so thick she couldn't bend her neck, locked it with the padlock she had given me, and led her into the main party room by a leash handle that could double as a spanking implement. The temptation was to clutch it because I wasn't sure I knew what I was doing, but I forced myself to hold it loosely instead. Max, the character I was playing tonight, wasn't the type to over-grip. He was the definition of cool and smooth, because I'd made him up to be that way, and I focused on walking and moving like I'd imagined he would.

Those are the opening paragraphs of "A Change of Perspective," my new story in Silence is Golden. The more the main character focuses on walking and moving the way Max would, the more she discovers about herself—hot, feral, toppy feelings; attraction to her best friend; and the alluring sensation of embodying a a handsome, sexy, well-put-together man.

Here's a description of the anthology:

If someone is unable to speak, how do they communicate with their partner? If a sub or Dom can't hear well in crowds but loves to play at parties, what mechanisms are in place to ensure everyone stays safe?

The kink-inspired stories in Silence is Golden are sexy and bold. You'll meet strong, diverse characters across the spectrum of sexuality who revel in their desires. From silent Doms and Deaf lovers to submissives who can't be silenced and those who seek out the quiet. This sizzling collection brings together the finest erotic stories from Annabeth Leong, Dale Cameron Lowry, Sienna Saint-Cyr, Leandra Vane, Anna Sky and Janine Ashbless.

I'm really excited about my story for this, and I'm looking forward to reading the others. Also, can I fangirl for a moment about being anthology buddies with Janine Ashbless? She's one of my heroes. (Check out Named and Shamed, for example, which is one of my favorite erotic novels ever.)

I hope you'll take a look at Silence is Golden. You can find it here.

Friday, May 20, 2016

My Sexy/Scary Words In Your Ear

When Jen Blackmore asked me to write a story for her erotic horror book What Lies Beneath, I didn't know I was about to invent an evil that would compel me for years afterward. I didn't want to punish sex, but I also didn't want to blunt and tame darkness. Here's a taste of the result—a sinister dance of trades and bargains, blood and sex:

They dance for hours, until Mercy's feet bleed and her knees quiver. Still, she does not want to stop. Samuel senses her weakness, supporting her weight and drawing her closer to him.

"The night will be over soon," he whispers. Mercy shakes her head in disbelief. They dance alone. She did not notice the other creatures retreating, did not see the moon fading before the coming dawn.

"Will you keep the dress and be my bride?" His lips smile against her ear. "Or will you return the gift to me now?"

Mercy freezes in his arms. "Now?"

"Oh, yes. Something of yours must remain at my hill in exchange for what I sacrificed." He grips her hips tightly. "Let it be you. My mistress under the hill. And ask what you will." Again, that significant glance, into the distance this time. Mercy holds no doubt—he stares directly at her father.

Mercy pulls back, and is a little surprised when Samuel lets her go. SHe hesitates, lifting her fingers to the buttons of the dress but not following through.

"Look at what I did for you," he says. He loosens his own clothes. The marks of teeth purple at his throat. Angry, scabbed scratches mar the sides of his arms, his chest, and his back. The wounds seem to writhe against the canvas of his colorless skin.

"I don't understand."

He steps free of his trousers, his cock a tall, hard cylinder standing out from his body. "Take off the dress."

Mercy shivers and obeys. She peels the sweat-stained dress away from her skin, its expensive scent mingled now with the smell of her own body.

"Look at it," Samuel says.

Mercy glances down, at the wrong side of the fabric. Stains she hadn't noticed bloom across its surface, sticky and fresh. "What did—?"

"Its owner did not give it over easily."

The implications of the rusty color marring the inside of the dress sink in. Mercy screams and thrusts the garment out at arm's length, paying no mind to the chill pre-dawn air playing over her naked body.

Samuel steps closer. She recognizes the smell of his cock. The red of his eyes deepens, mirroring the stains on the dress. "I want to give you what you wish for most of all," he whispers. "Anything you asks. I want to serve you. Please. I need to."

Mercy vibrates with longing. She cannot release her grip on the beautiful dress. Neither can she step back from him.

This week, Nobilis Reed let me know that this story, "The Mistress Under the Hill," is going to be featured in the next episode of Nobilis Erotica. It'll be up tomorrow at noon. Everything Samuel says plays in my head in a certain particular tone. I can't wait to see how the voice talent reads it.

I also recorded a short piece about the inspiration behind the story—and confessed that I was sort of picturing David Bowie when I wrote Samuel.

I hope you'll check it out. Nobilis has done an incredible job every time he's featured a story of mine, and I'm really excited I get to take this trip again. And if you love this, consider supporting the podcast on Patreon. Nobilis is working hard to produce a quality product while paying good rates to writers and voice talents, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that.

Monday, May 16, 2016

New Story Coming Soon: "A Change of Perspective" in Silence is Golden

I signed a contract last week for a new queer story, "A Change of Perspective," which Sexy Little Pages will publish in their forthcoming Silence is Golden anthology.

The book will be full of kinky stories involving silence in some way. In mine, Maddie takes on the role of Max in order to take her best friend to a kinky party on a collar and lead. Though Maddie has topped before, she's never gone out publicly presenting herself as male, and she chooses to remain silent so the sound of her voice won't disrupt her sense of herself as Max. The change of perspective unleashes powerful desires—for her identity, in her kinky life, and for her best friend.

I believe Sexy Little Pages plans to release the book in the near future, so you won't have long to wait to read the story. In the meantime, though, you can check out the first story I published with them: a tattoo-themed lesbian first time story called "Scissoring," in the Inked anthology.

Friday, May 13, 2016

Guest Cover Reveal: The Tutor

I'm really interested in erotica that explores nontraditional territory, as any fans of my work will know. My book, Untouched, focuses on a character who is sexually voracious but can't stand to be touched. She starts out treating her condition as a problem, but in the end claims and embraces it, declares that she's worthy of love as she is, and does a lot of hot things on the way to that realization.

I personally am very turned on by limitations. (I mentioned this recently at a workshop I was teaching, and an astute friend and reader commented, "Says the person who wrote an entire erotic novel about someone who doesn't like to be touched." I thought it was a good point.) I often think that's what hottest isn't doing anything and everything but finding ways to accommodate desire around the needs of the individuals involved in an encounter.

That said, I was fascinated to learn about KD Grace's forthcoming novel, The Tutor, which also explores sexual situations that don't involve direct touch. The glimpses I've gotten are evocative and intriguing, and I know KD Grace to be a fabulous, creative, generous writer. Her book will be available for preorder starting August 30th, for early download from her publisher's website (Totally Bound) starting September 13th, and for general release from all over the place starting October 11th.

I'm very excited to share an early look at it. Without further ado, I'll turn this over to KD:


Sometimes It Sizzles When Things Go Pear-Shaped

by KD Grace

I've been barely able to contain myself this past two weeks, just bursting to tell you the good news, and now at last I can. Not only can I tell you that my steamy contemporary romance novel, The Tutor, has been snapped up by the Totally Entwined imprint of Totally Bound, but I can now reveal the gorgeous cover which sizzles with the creative genius of Emmy Ellis.

The Tutor has a very special place in my heart because it had its beginnings last October at Smut Manchester during Kay Jaybee's wonderfully wicked "trip to the supermarket" workshop on inspiration. We were all given an item from the supermarket shelf and told we'd been called over the loudspeaker to go to the stockroom. From that we were to write the beginnings of a story about what we'd find in the stockroom and what we'd do with our item in said stockroom. I still remember the smug little smirk on Ms. Jaybee's face when she handed me the slip of paper that read A tin of pears in heavy syrup. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that before the weekend was out, I'd have the seeds for a novel that just had to be written. In fact, it needed to be written so badly that I signed up for NaNoWriMo—National Novel Writing Month in November and wrote the whole 95K in one month! Here's just a taste of the end result. Enjoy!


Struggling writer Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valens, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala exhibition, his first ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues. The press feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest, and she can go back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling, pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as their sessions become more and more personal.


“Was this your idea or Dillon’s? Kelly asked, hoping to relax him.

“It was mine, after Andy told Dillon and he told me. I thought it was something that I …” The muscles along Lex’s jaw looked as though they were made out of iron, and a fine blush crawled up his neck tinting his ears bright pink. “I’ve never touched a woman … in that way.” He forced a laugh. “Obviously. I’ve …” the blush deepened and he avoided her gaze. “I’ve put lube on some of the sculptures – you know -- down there, but I … well it isn’t the same.”

“The pears won’t be either,” she said, her heart suddenly aching at the physical isolation this man endured on a daily basis, and it wasn’t just her heart that ached, she felt his lack deep in her core. It had been easier with Andy. She had been almost flippant with him. She was sorry for that now. She spread one of the towels on the Queen Anne chair across from him and settled herself onto it so they were facing each other. “The texture will be different and with the pear there’ll be less give.” She dipped her fingers in the bowl and rubbed the heavy juice between her index finger and her thumb. “If you touch a woman, she’ll be much warmer.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You’ll be amazed at how warm and how soft she’ll be down there when she’s ready to be touched. With Andy, this,” she nodded down to the pears, “was improvisation, this was the best I could do under the circumstances, but a woman, well a woman feels like nothing you’ve ever touched before.”

He was no longer avoiding her gaze. His eyes were locked on her, and he was struggling to keep them on her face, she knew that; she understood the urge for him to drop his eyes to the place of which she spoke, the place with which she was so intimate, the place that couldn’t help but respond to the topic, to the situation, to the strange intimacy they had shared almost since the moment they’d met. “You can look, if you want,” she opened her legs so that he could see the place in between clothed in black denim, completely disguised and yet so very obvious. “And I’ll look at you too,” she nodded down to his own jeans straining to contain him already. “It’s what men and woman are naturally inclined to do when there’s a sexual attraction.”

With her heart hammering in her throat, she took one of the pear halves into the cupped palm of her left hand, then she brought it down between her spread thighs, feeling the juice of it run over her fingers and drip onto the towel as she spread her legs a little farther and held her pam to mimic the position of her vulva. “Touch it like a woman would touch it, and you’ll always get it right.” She drug her index and middle finger up from the bottom of the pear to the center and felt her own body respond in empathy. “The pear has no folds, no secret valleys, no swollen flesh to be teased open, so you’ll have to use your imagination with that.”

Lex gave a little moan soft and deep in his chest as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. “I know the anatomy,” he said. “I’ve watched porn and I’ve studied drawings. I know how it looks like it might feel. I know the response it elicits.” His tongue flicked nervously over his upper lip. “Of course that’s just acting, isn’t it?”

“Porn is about fantasy, about voyeurism, and it doesn’t matter if it’s real if it gets you off. But when it is real,” she spread her index and middle finger up the sides of the pear’s central opening, “if you’re good, if your sensitive, you’ll feel the spasms of your lover’s orgasm, even see them if you’re using your tongue; and you can feel them gripping at your cock when your inside her. If you’re paying attention.

“The clitoris,” she laughed softly, “Well with Andy I used a Ticktack, but he’s a chemistry major. He likes charts and graphs and periodic tables. You’re an artist, you live in your imagination, so you don’t need a Ticktack. Some women like the thumb stroking and circling while the other fingers work inside. Some women like to use their fingers.” She demonstrated on the pear, and Lex groaned. “It’s always best to ask and be sure.”

“What do you like?” His words were a labored rasp against the back of his throat, and Kelly found herself stunned by the question, and way more aroused than she wanted to be. He shouldn’t have asked. She should have answered. But she did.

“I like it this way.” She shifted her hips and opened a little further so he could see her thrust and scissor, circle and probe technique, and her body responded with the tight grip and release of muscle memory.

“Jesus,” he whispered, moving forward on the sofa and leaning closer for a better look. “And when someone uses their tongue?”

She caught her breath in a giddy laugh. “Afraid I can’t tell you what I do since, sadly I’m not that flexible.”

“But you can tell me what you like.” His voice had gone rough.

“I like the flat of the tongue to part me and then probe me, circle my clit and then kiss and suck.” She closed her eyes, finding it difficult to meet his gaze when she spoke about something so intimate, so secret. Come to think of it, she’d never had a man actually ask her how she liked it. The few who had given a rat’s ass about her pleasure had been happy enough to let her order them about, but never quite got the hang of it.

It was the loud schussing sound that caused her to open her eyes. Lex had moved the coffee table out of the way paying no attention to the slosh of pear juice all over the towel V had spread. His eyes were locked on Kelly as he fished out his own pear half and fell to his knees in front of her. When she realized what the man was about to do she dropped the pear she’d been holding with a little gasp of surprise and scooted as far back in the chair as she could. He knelt low, holding the pear in the cup of his hand, as she had, placing it against the edge of the chair between her legs! She gave a little yelp and scrambled back in the chair still further, spreading her thighs over the rise of the chair arms to keep from touching him. He moved forward, the back of his hand so close to her crotch that she could feel the heat of it, and he lowered himself still further until his hair nearly brushed the insides of her thighs. Then, still looking up at her from his position on the floor, he began at the bottom of the open pear half and ran his tongue flat and undulating all the way up, flicking in just slightly in a little circle at the top end before he closed his lips around the apex and she could hear the slurp and suck of the sweet syrup.

“Oh! Lex! Ah!” And then she went non-verbal, holding her breath, tightening muscles deep inside her body, the only muscles she dared to move if she were to keep from touching him. She raised both arms and fisted her hands in a suicide grip around the back of the chair to keep from curling them in his hair. Her thighs trembled from her efforts to keep her legs on the chair arms and not throw them over his shoulders for leverage. She didn’t move. She didn’t breath as he licked and nuzzled and suckled until pear juice ran down his chin and onto his tee-shirt, until his face was damp and sticky, until his forehead was sheened with perspiration, and still he held her gaze as though they were locked together in each other’s orbit neither able to move without the other’s consent.

“Oh God, I’m gonna come.” She barely managed a warning when his own convulsion brought him dangerously near her body. He had stopped breathing, she was sure of it. She practically climbed the back of the chair to keep from touching him as he lost control. Then with a tremendous gasp of oxygen, he straightened, let the pear fall from his hand onto the aubusson carpet and looked up at her.

“I’m going to pass out.” And he did.

About K D Grace/Grace Marshall:

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really is all about sex, well, sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is. Otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.

K D has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.

Find K D Here:


Monday, May 2, 2016

Timeless Lust

Myths have always been a major source of inspiration for my work, and I'm not the only one. Now, Forbidden Fiction has put together a collection called Timeless Lust, which includes three of my stories, and eight others.

My contributions include:

Hunting Artemis

Dedicated to remain virginal for Artemis, it is not until Nikia meets the hunter Theron that she realizes what she has given up with her vows to the goddess. In the heat of her newly-discovered passion, no touch but Theron’s can remove Nikia’s lust. Nikia and Theron form an uneasy kinship, united by the cruelty of unrequited desire. Together, they will make unlikely sacrifices for Artemis, and together, they will receive an impossible reward. (M/F, F/F, M/F/F)

The Snake and The Lyre

Eurydice longs to marry Orpheus, but his self-centered love for his music blinds him to her sensuality. A cruel Naiad seduces and kills Eurydice, unleashing the full hunger of her desire. When Orpheus braves the Underworld to save his lost Eurydice, can he pull his bride away from its depraved pleasures? (F/F)

Andromache's Prize

When Briseis had belonged to noble Achilles, she had been better able to bear slavery. Now, though, the heroes had all sailed away home, leaving baser men to strip the carcass of Troy. Briseis had been given into the hands of cruel Calygdus, and nightly she suffered for his every shame and weakness. Until the night that Andromache and the women of Troy fell upon the Greek camp, slaying the men and releasing the women slaves, promising them freedom in the City of Women. Freedom, and love… (M/F, F/F)

If you can't wait to read those stories, you can pick them up (and more!) in my collection, Liquid Longing.

Of course, I'd love you for checking my book out, but I think you should check out Timeless Lust, too. Forbidden Fiction is a fearless publisher committed to publishing interesting, boundary-pushing work. Timeless Lust will give you a good sample of what kind of work you'll find in their catalogue.

Here's a description of Timeless Lust:

"There have always been lusts that transcend limits. The rush of fire in the blood, the hunger for touch, the compulsion to bury oneself in the flesh of another. Ancient storytellers enraptured audiences with tales of love and lust, of the dangerous passions of gods and heroes and monstrous creatures, pursued sometimes to destruction.

These modern interpretations of those ancient themes span histories and cultures from Greece and Rome to Egypt and the Holy Lands, stories of love and betrayal, of vengeful gods and goddesses, and pleasurable peace. There is much more to a palace eunuch than meets the eye. One man must face his greatest sins, while another battles to save his lover’s life. A woman must balance appeasing her ethereal deity and her earthly desires, and another is imprisoned behind the bars of a gilded cage.

Eleven tales of intense lust in the ancient world crafted by ForbiddenFiction’s best authors, ready for you to peel back the cover and indulge your carnal appetites."


Timeless Lust will be released on May 24th, and there are a lot of cool events and posts planned. I'll be participating in the release party online on May 26th, and the other authors and I have been writing a lot of behind-the-scenes info.

Watch this space for more information—I'll be hosting a guest from among my colleagues, and I'll share pointers to the posts Forbidden Fiction is putting together about the historical settings of the stories in the book. Of course, I'll also tell you how you can find us on the 26th—it's a great chance to chat with authors, read hot excerpts, and win prizes.