Bi Magic and Phase Out

My darlings, I'm moving to the next phase with the new website (annabetherotica.com). It's getting comfortable over there. I still have to unpack the boxes of books (read, load all my titles onto the site), but it's a clean, well-lit space, and it's where I'm going to be spending all my time in the very near future. If you're reading this on a feed reader, please take a second to add the new site's blog instead.

For a while, I've been cross-posting, but at this point I'm feeling that's creating a situation where I've got one foot at each site. From here out, this blog will just get pointers to the new site. In a little while, when I'm ready to let go a little more, I won't be posting here at all (though I will leave it up for the time being for the archives).

With that phase out notice out of the way, let me tell you what I just put at the new site!



That gorgeous cover is for Bi Magic, a collection of bisexual fantasy anthology released today by Forbidden Fiction. At the new site, I'm giving you more details, including the blurb, the blurb for my story, and a delicious excerpt of a cruel and seductive Naiad doing her thing. You can read it here.

I Submit to the Big Book of Submission

I've got a story in Rachel Kramer Bussel's latest anthology, The Big Book of Submission, but I've already posted an excerpt and a description of my inspiration for it. Now that the blog tour's come around, I started thinking it might be best, this time, if I don't make this all about me.

My story, "Crunches," gets me off, and I hope you love it, too. But for the blog tour, I decided to submit to a few of the other authors and see what kinky visions they had to offer. When I'm submitting, I, of course, don't want to be in control. I didn't want to have to agonize over which of the 69 delicious visions available I ought to choose—68, I suppose, since I'm leaving myself out of it. I especially didn't know how to choose when I've already shivered delightfully to work penned by so many of the names in that table of contents—Kathleen Tudor, Giselle Renarde, Valerie Alexander, Jade A. Waters, and the list goes on... Besides, I know Rachel always makes an effort to include new voices in her books, and I didn't want to rule out the chance of an intense encounter with an exciting stranger.

The only way to properly submit, I decided, was to make it random. So I took a trip to my favorite random number generator and let the fates determine what submissive tastes I would explore. I swear this is true: I drew my own story first—I take this as a sign that I should again remind you that I melt to the thought of a stern personal trainer controlling me, that I love the idea of wanting her more than I want to be her, and that following a list of instructions makes me tremble. But, persevering, I drew three new numbers, and this is what they led me to:

Draw 1: "The Test" by Kristina Wright

Suddenly, the constriction around my neck is no longer a hindrance, it's a promise.

Kristina Wright is a beloved name—not long ago, I enjoyed her kinky anthology A Princess Bound, and I've also had the privilege of writing for her. Her entry to The Big Book of Submission concerns a collar—a particular favorite of mine. There are many nights when I fetch my collar, run to my dominant, kneel while it is fastened around my neck, and then curl up in a nest on the floor of the office and languish like a pet. This is one of my favorite things in the world, and I don't need much more of a scene than that to glow with the sense of safety and being cared for, to warm with the arousal of trust. I am always thrilled to read a story that focuses on a collar and what it means, rather than simply seeing it as an accessory to a caning or what have you.

The protagonist in "The Test" turns out to find collars challenging. She doesn't like feeling anything around her neck, and this fact ratchets up the level of trust required to play with a collar. I loved the psychological depth of this story. There are layers of trust—inside and outside of the bedroom—and the story portrays a very interesting interplay between the BDSM life of the couple at its center and the public life they have and share. Just as there are several types of trust at play, there are also several tests. The story packs a lot of meaning into a small space, offering a satisfying exploration of the experience of being collared.

Draw 2: "The Bulldog Breed" by Lisette Ashton

"The marks look delightfully painful," she whispered.

At first, the word "bulldog" in the title made me think I'd come across another collaring story. The bulldog in question, however, turns out to be the bulldog clip, a particularly terrifying office supply when you've got one of those dominants whose favorite stores are Home Depot and Staples.

bulldog clip (klapka) / CC BY-SA 3.0

Just take a look at that baby and imagine it clamped...anywhere. As a person who enjoys clamps, I prefer the type with adjustable tension. They're a whole lot easier to take because I can build up to high intensity. The type that are made for papers rather than people are much, much nastier. You'll be shocked, I'm sure, that this bulldog clamp is used in the story in a nasty (read: extremely—or should I say, delightfully—painful) way.

This story is of the hot fantasy variety. I could picture myself caressing its details piece by tiny piece as I slowly turn the vibrator levels up one button flick at a time. First, the protagonist finds an unlocked door. Then she hears a gasp of pain—"needy, obvious and sexual," Ashton informs the reader. Then she's drawn into this filthy scene with the bulldog clamps, uncertain whether she wants to be on the giving or receiving end of the pain. This reads like a sincere and heartfelt fantasy, the tones of longing struck through the prose like veins of gold. There is also attention to the nature of the need for pain, a recognition of that turn of the mind that transforms the terrible into the deeply desired. I haven't read Ashton before, I don't think—this is what I meant about being open to encounters with strangers.

Draw 3: "The Chrome-Plated Connection" by Ginger F.

Everyone needs his release and my Master finds his in controlled pain—his control over the person giving him the pain: me.

Oh, this one is an amazing draw. Last fall I was at a kinky event where I attended a workshop given by the fantastic Ms. Suzanne SxySadist. She pointed out that people often make the following associations: dominant=sadist, submissive=masochist—but they're not necessarily the rule. Indeed, I have met people who don't follow those stereotypes, and I don't think I do either. I'm a submissive (see collar story above), and I'm a masochist (see clamp musings above), but I've realized lately that I really don't enjoy combining the experiences. I want to be in control when I'm being hurt, and when I'm submitting, I want to be cared for and coddled. Anyway, Ms. Suzanne's workshop involved the drawing of a chart (and, if it's not clear from what I said about office supplies and following instructions, I love charts). The chart showed all sorts of possible combinations of the four letters of the BDSM acronym, and seeing them mix and mingle made me shiver both as a kinky person and as a writer.

All that to say, that's what Ginger F. is exploring here. "The Chrome-Plated Connection" is about a very dominant dom—he is stern, he is allowed to pull his submissive away from the computer, and he is allowed to dictate when and whether she will come. It's very clear that he's calling the shots of the relationship, and at first the story seemed to be building up to some sort of typical spanking story or service submissive story, and I was ready for the protagonist to get her ass cheeks reddened or to have to perform a tedious chore wearing only an apron or some similar thing (not that I can't love those stories, too). I was, however, delightfully surprised to discover that the nature of her service is to hurt her master, with nipple clamps specifically. He is in control of how, when, and how much she is hurt, and I was fascinated by the way this is described by Ginger F.

Even more interesting to me is that the protagonist doesn't seem like the precise, perfect-fit opposite to the Master (another subject I've thought about a great deal). That is to say, she doesn't seem to be a sadistic submissive to exactly complement her dominant masochist Master. Rather, she reads as a submissive through and through, turned on by obeying him and pleasing him. I loved this a lot, both for its unusual combinations of kinks and for its recognition that people fit together the way people do, not as the solution to an equation where you subtract x from both sides and come up with the one true answer.

***



Those are all the experiences I've got time to share with you, but trust and believe that I'm going to have 65 more on my own time and in the privacy of my own mind. You can submit to The Big Book of Submission, too (or dominate it, I suppose, if that's the angle from which you will read it)—one of the places you can pick the book up is here.

You can find every stop on the blog tour here.

(Cross-posted from annabetherotica.com)

More Flash Fiction!

I've posted another free flash piece at my new website! Here's the beginning:

It was a beautiful cake, piled high with strawberries and cream, dripping with hardened fudge. I contemplated it carefully, cautious with my breathing. I knew without being told that if I tipped it off its perch on my stomach, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice another rubber spatula in order to punish me. At the rate we were going, we’d have to buy more well before the wedding—no matter how many we had coming from our registry, they wouldn’t arrive fast enough.

I lay naked and shivering on our kitchen table—the room wasn’t cold, but my tension and excitement made me tremble.

You can read the rest here.

Nostalgia

At the Grip today, I wax nostalgic about the lost place I still wish I could go:

This is the place where my heart is buried. Today, the building has been demolished along with the dirty park beside it, both replaced by patio seating for an upscale sports bar, but on that spot of earth I fucked and loved and cried and shouted along with dozens of bands and was shamed and saw my lovers in the arms of others and performed my poetry to acclaim or to mockery and was praised and shouted at and became someone.

You can read the whole post here.

Guest Blog: Fast Cars by Tenille Brown

Today, I'm very pleased to host Tenille Brown, editor of Can't Get Enough. She must know I like to post about music on Mondays, so she sent over a great piece about hot sex in fast cars and reminded me of a fantastic Tracy Chapman song I've always loved.



See I remember we were driving, driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was dunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped round my shoulder...
Fast Car, Tracy Chapman

I remember the sexy sound of strings in Tracy Chapman's version of Fast Car, her sultry ode to riding with a lover.

I remember how it made me feel, how I feel even now in a car, any car, huddled up close in the front seat, my adrenaline enhanced by the thrill of speeding down the street.

Yes, I'm fascinated with cars, riding in them, sitting on them.

In my mind I'm the kind of girl who belongs in a Mustang convertible, Special Edition, with sunglasses on and my hair blowing in the wind.

Maybe that's why I'm addicted to car sex...in my writing and in my reading.

Over the past decade, I've written a number of stories about vehicles and the people who have sex in, on and around them.

Be it on the hood, in the front seat, in the bed of a pick up, there's something about the urgency, the "give it to me now" that makes my heart beat and my tongue wag. I can't resist.

So, it's no surprise that three stories of the car sex variety made it into Can't Get Enough.

Take this passage form Miel Rose's Big Appetites:

"...it's not because of her threat that I buckle my seat belt and scoot my naked butt over to her. She takes one hand off the wheel and wraps a thick arm around me..."

Or this one from Heidi Champa's Free Ride:

"When I slipped into the backseat, I heard his belt buckle jingling and the metallic click of his zipper going down..."

And lastly, Lucy Felthouse's When He Gets Home:

"...She leaned forward and touched the button to recline the seat....the poor man had no idea what was coming to him."

Maybe it's the cramped space and the creativity it takes to get it going, maybe it's the idea of not being able to wait the ten seconds it would take to get inside the house.

Whatever it is, it makes the top two in my top ten places to get it on and no matter what, I'll always make time (and space) for a fucking good ride.



***

Can't Get Enough is on tour right now! You can see the full list of posts here. I've got a story in Can't Get Enough myself (though it's not about cars) — it's called Objects of Desire, and it's about kitchen tools turned sex toys. You can pick up the book here.

Flash Fiction at the New Site!

I thought I would encourage people to check out my new site, annabetherotica.com, by posting a free piece of flash fiction there. Here's the opening:

“Whoa, do we really need that many spatulas on our wedding registry? We don’t cook that much. I don’t even know what half those things are called.” Sarah rested a hand on my shoulder and peered at the items I’d checked off on the department store’s list of suggestions.

“I wasn’t thinking of cooking,” I confessed. Her eyes lit up, and I knew what she’d remembered.

To read the whole thing, head to annabetherotica.com, here! :)

The Pain-Studded Absolution of Those Boys

"I will set you free, but I won't let you go."

Rarely have I read a more shiver-inducing statement of what BDSM is all about. That sentence I quoted has plenty of impact on its own, but it's got even more embedded in the yearning, emotional, dead-sexy "Those Boys," Alison Tyler's latest novelette from the fabulous Go Deeper Press.

Readers of the previous novelette, "Those Girls," will welcome the return of Sandy, the cocky but not too perfect bisexual dom who starred in that outing. We've also been treated to the return of Vanessa, the titular girl.

The new addition is Rem, a silver-haired, tattooed, Western-shirt wearing rocker who Sandy sums up this by telling us what kind of boy he is. Rem, Sandy says, is one of "those 'I need your approval of my outfit, and it will take me six hours to choose a shirt' boys."

What ensues when these three collide is a tale of desire. Sandy wants Rem, Rem wants what Sandy can give him, and Vanessa wants to enjoy them both. With everyone wanting so much, the reader might ask what holds them back from satisfaction—but where sex comes into play, the answer is all too clear. What holds many of us back from satisfaction is ourselves, and that's no less true for the conflicted Rem.

The emotion between Sandy and Rem is intense, and the sex scorching, but I especially love that Tyler doesn't neglect Vanessa. Her relationship with Sandy remains nuanced, and is advanced by the story, and there is palpable chemistry between her and Rem.

I've read dozens of Alison Tyler's BDSM stories, and Those Boys delivers what fans of those stories are looking for—heat, attention to the psychology of BDSM, the search for an understanding of this drive but an ultimate refusal to apologize for it.

As she's discussed on her blog, Those Boys is different in a very important way—she's writing from the perspective of a male dom rather than the semi-autobiographical female "I" that's common to much of her other work (such as Dark Secret Love). That girl is still present in Those Boys (Vanessa, like many Alison Tyler narrators, has a preference for diaphanous dresses and a love of anal play), but it's fun to see her from a different perspective. And it's exciting to read the flip side of Tyler's kinky world. Sandy delivers the sure sexiness of a dom without becoming so certain of himself that he turns into a caricature (I feel as if I said something very similar when reviewing Those Girls, but it's true in both novelettes). His desires are front and center, and they're interestingly distinct from those of his subs.

Tyler's general exuberance about BDSM is on full display here, as fresh and strong as if this were the very first story she'd written. And Sandy's voice has a breathtaking intimacy to it. He speaks of his own desires, but he knows his subs so well:

"I know that a real, true sub requires more than pain. There's the understanding that accompanies the desires, absolution above all else."

I might appropriate that sentence to describe what I need as a reader. I want the pain and the sex, but I also need the panoramic view of kink that I've gotten from this series. I need to travel into Sandy's mind because I need that absolution, too. Tyler has said that she's at work on a prequel called Those Days, where we'll be introduced to Sandy's origins.

I am one of those boys. I am one of those girls. I can't wait to travel back with Alison Tyler to those days.

(Disclaimer: I received an ARC of Those Boys in exchange for an honest review. I have also written for Go Deeper Press and Alison Tyler. I've also spent untold sums of my own money buying books from both sources...)