#SatSpanks – A Retrograde Ejaculation? #BDSM

saturday-spankings

Hello Spankos and welcome to the weekend – WooHOo! Only a couple more weeks till Christmas, but if last minute shopping has you frazzled… grab yourself a cuppa and take five 😉

TheTiesThatBind1.jpg

The Ties That Bind

“I’m going to have your little pony-girl suck you off every half hour until you nearly shoot your load, and then we’ll get a few friends involved for kicks when she needs a rest. When those arms and legs of yours are shaking, I’m going to paddle, flog, crop and whip that beautiful body of yours from top to bottom until you beg me to stop, and then I’m going to do it some more. If I’m feeling really generous, I might even let you have the odd retrograde ejaculation. That’ll be fun, won’t it?” Her hand smacked his left butt cheek and the contact jarred the plug that was now buried inside him. The sensation was intense and a heady mixture of both pleasure and pain. He suspected he’d be pissing blood for a few days after this mess and that was the least of his concerns. What did Redcliff want from him?

00194

BDSM, Fetish, Erotica, Kink and Dark Romance. What more could you want?

Want more naughty snippets? Visit the SaturdaySpankings Blog Spot!

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

Why WRITING isn’t about writing any more – #Authors #Writers

Magic book

If I tell someone I’m a writer – they generally have the impression that I sit down at my computer and write. It’s not entirely inaccurate – I do, but that’s a very small part of what I do.

If you want to make a living out of writing, you can add promotion, social media, a blog,  graphics, competitions, editing, Facebook release parties, GoodReads events… seriously, the list is endless. It doesn’t stop there either. For new writers trying to make a living out of writing without the backing of one of the big five publishers, you’ll probably need to broaden your horizons. Magazine or newspaper articles tend to pay a little better than books and still allow you to do what you love  – WRITING!

I’m NEW – help!

Social Media

If you’re coming into writing without a clue of what to do other than write, my advice to you is to start some kind of promotion machine going. Usually that involves you working on social media and building up your followers. There are groups that can help you do this like the worldliterarycafe.com and asmsg.com, but you’ll have to take the first steps. Pick three social media groups – mine are FB, Twitter and Pinterest – and get them up and running. Follow people, some will follow you back and some won’t, but whatever happens, keep following people. If you want to put adverts about your work out there, you’ll need these channels and for the most part, they’re free.

Promotion

There are so many companies out there that can’t wait to take your money and more often than not, none of them deliver very much. If you are going to pay someone to advertise your work – ask other people what works best or what they’ve had good results with in the past. BookBub, Booksbutterfly and BookGorilla have all produced results for me, but there are a LOT of promotion companies that you might as well just throw money at. There are some companies that will advertise your free books for free, if you search around a little, which is kind of handy as I despise PAYING someone to advertise my FREE book. Life is hard enough as it is, right?

Newsletter

If you’re starting out you’ll need to hop on over to google docs and make yourself a form for an author newsletter. THIS IS THE BEST way of getting and keeping your fans. This is your DIRECT MAILING LIST and you need to treat your subscribers like gold dust. As a new author, I didn’t bother setting one up until I was two years down the line, and I regret it now. This is the #1 way to sell books, no doubt about it. At the end of all your books put your mailing list link in to allow new fans to be updated with your new releases. It works. Trust me.

Competitions

Whilst we’re at it, host a few competitions, or run your own blog. Your mailing list is only as exciting as you make it. If you constantly advertise your books and nothing else, your followers may stray. Talk to them, pop a link to your blog posts in, run some competitions, and showcase other authors work. In this industry, the more you help others, the more the love will be returned. (It’s like any other walk of life, trust me).

A Blog

Running your own blog is a good way to regularly showcase your work, gain followers, and if you’re successful you can also make money by running ads and reviewing products. Set up a schedule for regular blog posts and try not to make the blog all about writing – you need to keep your readers entertained, too. Show videos that are relevant to you or your writing, note down humorous experiences, find interesting news articles, shower them with your poetry – just keep it interesting and varied and build up your followers.

Learn New Skills

Book covers were extortionately priced when I first started, not to mention advertisements or video trailers. I decided to take matters into my own hands and purchased photoshop elements for £60/$80. It’s amazing how fast you learn – I’m now happily using Photoshop CC and I still learn new tricks every day. Now I can design book covers, video/gif stills, and simple twitter and fb ads. Don’t underestimate graphics and book covers – good graphics sell. Even now I still pay for graphics. My last two vampire stories had covers that were over $99 each, but they worked. The books sold well. If you’re just starting out and are struggling – try canva.com for easy peasy graphics. These pictures showcasing your book are important. The world  has gone visual and every post needs a picture to sell. Try to build up a bank of between 3 – 10 ads for each book you write. It’s worth it – trust me.

Don’t Give Up!

Whatever you do, don’t give up, but be realistic. Are you going to be able to give up the day job at first? Unlikely. But if you give it enough time and determination, you can make some decent money doing what you love. It probably won’t be a fortune at first, but over time – who knows?

Christina xox

Bondage101 by Doctor Doc #BDSM #Beginners

So we cover all the basics here from everything you’ll need to take into a scene with you, to safe words etc. This wonderful lady talks in very long sentences without breathing, but you’ll just about understand her – promise!

#WIPITUP Wednesday Special -First Chapter Preview of The Velvet Chair! #BDSM

sexy blond in beige silk dress sitting on the black armchair

The Velvet Chair

My name is Mark Matthews. I own half of London, and the part I don’t own, I’m working on.

Life was all going swimmingly well until Michael Redcliff entered my life, demanding that I marry his daughter. Actually, swap demand for blackmail. He’s got goods on me that I want no one else to see, so for the time being I need to be his little lapdog.

I’ll marry his daughter. I’ll give him all the status, money and power he can handle… for as long as it takes me to get a divorce. You see, I can’t renege on our little arrangement – but she can. I give her a week. One week and she’ll be screaming the place down for her legal counsel.

Chapter One – Mark

It felt like a death sentence around my neck. Marriage. The mere idea was a suffocating blanket of dread that was slowly beginning to strangle me. Each step I took towards my impending nuptials had me itching to run away in the opposite direction, as far and as fast as my legs could carry me – but that wasn’t going to be possible. I would be marrying Jennifer Courtney Redcliff in exactly one week’s time and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. As my body was once again consumed by feelings of utter helplessness and fury, I had to resist the urge to punch something.

I could not believe how easily I had been duped. I still had no idea what Michael Redcliff’s end game was, but I had now made it my mission in life to find out. Whilst it was clear he wanted me to suffer in every way imaginable, judging by what he had done to me in the abandoned Greyson building, I was still no closer to discovering what it was he actually wanted. Quite a few theories had been flying around my head but I had nothing concrete. He could be after money, property, status, power, or something else entirely. The not knowing frustrated me. Even though I had Khalil, my head of intel, working on the problem twenty-four-seven, he’d not managed to unearth anything of consequence yet. He had advised me to make the entire staff of my office redundant, and to my chagrin I had found myself doing exactly that. After one key employee’s colossal betrayal, I was prepared to take no more risks with my general wellbeing. Though I bore no scars from Redcliff’s and Katrina’s hands, I had frequently begun to look over my shoulder wherever I found myself alone, and I didn’t much like the feeling.

The first thing I wanted to do was get my hands on Miss Morreau. How in hell she’d managed to slip through the net and enter my employment, only to betray me less than two years later, was something I clearly needed to look into. Of course I knew Redcliff was behind the mess, but I wanted to find out just how much she knew. If Khalil managed to unearth the dark hole she’d managed to hide herself in, I would show her exactly the same courtesy as she’d shown me. She’d be drugged, kidnapped, and strung up, before being hung out to dry. I would find out everything I needed to know and my methods of torture were as good, if not better than Redcliff’s. I might not be quite as extreme, but I took a certain satisfaction in a job well done. Miss Morreau had better pray I never managed to lay eyes on her ever again, or I was going to make her wish she’d never set foot on this earth. My thoughts maddeningly returned to Jennifer.

I wanted to make that woman bleed so badly. Already, I could picture myself wrapping my hands around her neck and squeezing until every last breath of life inside her evaporated. Lucky for her, they were just dark thoughts. I was not a murderer. Well, not yet at any rate. In a couple of weeks’ time, after the traitorous, lying bitch had walked down the aisle with me, there was a possibility I might change my mind. Scrap that. Death wouldn’t be nearly as painful as the torments I had in mind for my bride, and I fully intended that she would pay dearly for her crimes. If she wanted to play with me, then I was more than capable of taking her on, except this time I would fight dirty. If Miss Morreau was in for a hard time, Jennifer Redcliff would be made to think that an eternity in hell was a summer camp, when compared to a single week with me.

Currently, I was plotting the worst possible torments that I could heap upon my future wife, so that she would feel compelled to divorce me immediately. I was aiming to have her screaming for her legal counsel inside of a week, give or take a couple of days. I had considered the idea of getting the marriage annulled, but that wasn’t going to be possible if I didn’t want to lie in a court of law. Yes, believe it or not I still have some morals, no matter how questionable they may be. You see, I fully intended to fuck the living daylights out of my future wife. Even though I now knew her for a scheming, conniving wretch, I also knew that I soon as I saw her, my body was going to go into overdrive. She has an effect on me much like heroine, addictive and deadly in the wrong dose. As much as I cursed my weakness, I didn’t think I’d manage to make it through a week of celibacy if she was under my roof, and there was no possibility of playing around because the risks were too high. So, if I wanted to expend some of my ample energy and sexual tension, there would be only one way to do so. I smiled. Miss Redcliff was about to reap her own sweet rewards. Except they wouldn’t be very sugary, and when I was pissed I was a whole lot of creative. Oh, the things I had planned for that woman. Conjugal rights didn’t even come into the equation. I was going to own that body and mind for a week, and when she left my abode she’d be lucky if she wasn’t scarred for life. She might have expertly planned my downfall, but now it was my turn to plan hers. I was going to break that girl down piece by piece until her screams were deafening, and her tears formed a veritable ocean. I was going to be the ultimate bastard and I would show no mercy. Lie to me once, shame on you, lie to me twice, shame on me. I’d already decided that after our wedding day, she’d get no further opportunities to lie. She’d either learn to keep quiet or I’d have her jaw wired shut. The idea had merit. I’d add that to my arsenal of threats and torments to inflict upon her.

I was prepared to pull out all the stops to get rid of her as quickly as possible. I was going to fuck with her head in the worst possible way and just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, I was going to shovel a load of new cerebral bombs her way, until there wasn’t much grey matter left. At this moment in time I honestly didn’t care what state I left her in, all I cared about was my freedom. They might temporarily steal it from me, but there was no question I would be claiming it back. I was not going to be used as a pawn in Redcliff’s happy-ever-after plan, whatever that might be. Realistically, and upon given the right incentives, I knew that Jennifer would be relatively easy to control. Getting even with the old man was going to prove a much harder task, I suspected, but damned if I didn’t relish a good challenge. Grinding his face into the dirt was going to give me an extraordinary amount of pleasure and I was prepared to spend a lot of money, and I meant a lot, to ensure the job was done properly.

Fuck Redcliff, fuck Marianna, and Jeniffer, well, she had better fucking brace herself, too. I was rip-roaring mad and my temper, which was normally tightly leashed and carefully controlled, was nearing DEFCON 1. Tension rippled through my body, bile bubbled up my throat, and blood solidified in my veins. I would have my pound of flesh, so help me god. Everyone who had wronged me was going to feel the wrath of my vengeance, and just like Icarus, they were going to burn. I might not be able to control the path of my destiny right now, but I would damn well be shaping my future. A week gave me plenty of time to plot and scheme, and I was extremely good at both. The inactivity was going to kill me, though. Seven days was a long time when you were trapped with nothing but ugly, dark thoughts inside your head.

Steeling myself to concentrate on the task at hand, I continued to flick through several glossy magazines, which all promised to have me in exquisite sartorial splendour for my wedding day. I couldn’t help but grimace. Throwing one across the room, I swore. I didn’t care who made the damn suit, but I knew it would be black. This whole charade was beginning to make me feel as if I was about to attend my own funeral – so I might as well dress the part.

 

One Week Later

 

Anxiety clawed at me, like a beast with no conscience that was intent on swallowing me whole. Giving up all pretence of sleeping, I left the stifling confines of my bed and padded through to the kitchen. I’d been tossing and turning for a good two hours now, and it seemed pre-wedding jitters were getting the better of me. I rolled my eyes at the irony. I didn’t give a flying fuck what Redcliff thought of me, and Jennifer Redcliff was going to get hers soon enough, but there were so many other tiny little details that I couldn’t get out of my head.

What if I couldn’t bear to look at her as she walked up the aisle, especially with all those cameras flashing and the video footage rolling? What if I couldn’t get the lies of my vows past my lips, or worse, stumbled upon them? Damnit, what if I couldn’t bring myself to go through with this farce? I hated to think how many people Redcliff had invited. Some would be close friends and associates of mine and I felt physically sick at the thought of creating an intricate dance of lies for them. Whilst I knew I had no choice in the matter, it wasn’t going to make the deceit any easier to swallow. I would have to make a speech, for fuck’s sake. How was I supposed to wax lyrical about the love of my life, knowing full well I was marrying the daughter of the enemy? Tomorrow might well be the greatest performance of my life, if I managed to pull it off. What was wrong with me? My usually unwavering confidence appeared to have deserted me this evening and I’d gone from being an untouchable God to a mere mortal. The armour I usually surrounded myself with had taken a good-sized dent.

As I turned on my poor, recently much overused coffee machine, I sighed. Worrying about things I couldn’t change would get me nowhere. I would get through this because I had managed to get through much worse. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Grunting, I searched around my kitchen cabinet and plucked out a shiny, glass tumbler. Filling it with water I necked the lot and then refilled it once again. There was a way out of this mess. Khalil would help me find one. Yesterday, he’d informed me of a possible sighting of Miss Morreau. She’d disappeared before my team could pinpoint her exact whereabouts, but now they had a rough idea of her location, they could begin closing the net. I needed answers and I needed them yesterday.

Flicking on the television, even though I knew I wouldn’t listen to a word that was said, I poured myself a coffee and then settled lengthways into my leather couch, with my hands behind my head. The noise was comforting. It calmed the clambering thoughts in my head. Oddly enough, tonight I seemed to need noise in order to receive peace.

*** NOW IN EDITS – RELEASE DAY TBC ***

A Very Naughty Christmas – #NewRelease #Boxset!

VNC1.png

I’m so excited, and I just can’t fight it – I have five sexy authors and a brand new boxset on my blog today! Ooh and a rafflecopter too – show me the money!! Grin. Without further ado, I’ll hand you over to Meredith and plenty of Christmas Naughtiness 😉

Hi! Thank you for having us over on your blog to promote our new box set, A Very Naughty Christmas! 

Before we get to the snippets, make sure to click on THIS LINK to participate in our Rafflecopter. Who knows, you could win one of our Amazon giftcards, a free copy of one of our books, or even, a Kindle Fire! 

Here are a couple of snippets from our box set!

 

Maddie Taylor’s Story, Mistletoe Magic

His fingers curved beneath her bottom and he lifted her, hauling her across the center console into his lap. When he had her straddling his thighs, he reached down and adjusted his seat.

“Kyle… You’re not seriously going to… uh, spank me…” for some reason she whispered the last few words as if someone were around to overhear, “are you?”

“I intend to prove to you I mean business.”

“Not necessary,” she replied quickly while shaking her head. “I believe you.”

“Hm, that’s not how it sounded a minute ago.”

His thumbs located the waistband of her fleece-lined snow pants and his hands dipped inside her panties. She liked having his hands on her, they were big and warm and confident, but for what he had in mind she wasn’t quite sure those were desirable qualities, especially when anyone passing by could see them. 

“We’re on a busy street, in broad daylight.” 

His head popped up and he looked around; she did too, craning her neck to the side and behind her. Not a soul was stirring. He leaned back, arching a brow. “They’re abandoned except for us, no one will see.”

“But, Kyle…”

“This is happening, Dixie,” he replied, undeterred as he squeezed her bottom. He didn’t hesitate to begin peeling down her pants, either.

She squirmed, frowning. “Wait…”

“No.” he replied, one arm clamping around her waist to hold her still as he continued to inch her panties to the tops of her thighs. He began to rub his palm all over her bare ass. She whimpered softly and saw his lips curved slightly upward. He knew he had her, darn him.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“We’ll just have a sample.”

“If someone sees—”

“There isn’t anyone around; besides, my windows are tinted.”

Her eyes shifted to the dark smoky glass she hadn’t noticed and she relaxed the tiniest bit. “You could have said so,” she grumbled with a little pout.

He arched a brow, his big hand unceasing in its caresses. “A dozen swats, one for each year you gave me the silent treatment. Sounds fair, don’t you think?”

“Mm, I s’ppose,” she murmured, starting to enjoy how the heater blowing full force warmed her skin, and how his gently massaging hand warmed other parts that she hoped he would pay attention to afterwards. Despite how many times he’d brought her to climax in the past twenty-four hours, she pressed her hips into him invitingly, her demeanor changing from resistant to pleasingly compliant. How bad could a dozen swats be?

 

Meredith O’Reilly’s Story, Daddy’s Little Elf

 

“Did you bring anything to decorate him with?”

“I sure did.”

 He walked over to a bag that was on the ground a few feet away, brought it over, and handed it to me.

“Let’s start with his face,” Daddy suggested. 

I pulled out two big black buttons and put them on for the snowman’s eyes. Then I put the carrot in the center for his nose. Next, I pulled out a handful of buttons. Five black ones went in a half circle on the lower part of his face for a smile. 

The last four, bigger than the others, I used down the snowman’s front so it looked like he had clothes with buttons.

“What else do you have in your bag?” I asked, handing it back to him.

“Let’s see.” He looked in the bag and pulled out a blue Cubs baseball hat.

“That’s perfect,” I exclaimed as Daddy put it on top of the snowman’s head. “Our snowman is a Cubs fan!” 

Looking around our backyard, I spotted two sticks that would be perfect arms. Racing over, I grabbed them and came back, putting them on either side of the middle ball.

“There,” I said, taking a step back. “I think our snowman is finished. Except, he needs a name.”

“I think you should pick the name, since you’re the one who gave him his face.”

I thought long and hard. It had to be perfect. I didn’t want to name him Frosty because every little girl named their snowman Frosty. I needed something original.

Walking around the snowman, I tapped my gloved finger to my lips, thinking. What should we call him?

It finally came to me!

“I know. I’ll call him Herbert.”

His eyebrows rose in disbelief. “Herbert? You sure about that? Don’t you want a more Christmas-y name, like Frosty or Chilly?”

“Nope. Herbert Melvin Snowman is our snowman’s name.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me. “All right, sweetheart, if that’s the name that you want, then that’s what we’ll call him.”

“Yay!! Can we go sledding down our hill now?”

“Sure, I’ll go grab our sled from the car.”

“Super-duper double yay!” I shouted, listening to him laugh as he walked away. We were having the best of days.

 VNC2.png

A Very Naughty Christmas’ Blurb

A Very Naughty Christmas is a five-book collection featuring brand-new holiday-themed titles from five best-selling spanking romance authors. It includes the following books:

 

Her Christmas Daddy, by Dinah McLeod

When Sara Schroder returns home from college to spend Christmas in the town where she grew up, it doesn’t take long for her reckless driving to get her in trouble. But police officer Alex Maxwell—the next-door neighbor she’s had a crush on for years—decides to handle the situation himself, and instead of being given a ticket Sara quickly finds herself over his knee with her bottom bare for the first spanking of her life.

 

Though the punishment leaves her deeply embarrassed, Sara cannot deny her arousal at being taken in hand so firmly by a man like Alex, and soon she is calling him daddy and delighting in his caring attention and his hard, dominant lovemaking. But can she learn to behave like a good little girl for him or will she spend the holidays with blushing cheeks and a bright red bottom?

 

Mistletoe Magic, by Maddie Taylor

Dixie Culbertson has seen more than enough heartbreak in her life, and as far as she is concerned, no man can be trusted. But when her old high school crush walks into the diner where she works, the desire she once felt for him is quickly rekindled.

 

Kyle Prescott has always regretted the misunderstanding that tore him and Dixie apart over a decade ago, but it will take more than just a kiss under the mistletoe to break down the walls she has built around her heart. He is determined to make things right, however, even if that means taking her over his knee for a bare bottom spanking and claiming her so thoroughly that she is left with no doubt that she belongs to him.

 

Daddy’s Little Elf, by Meredith O’Reilly

When Chloe Carpenter’s husband, Drew, catches her sneaking away to work despite her promise to take time off to allow them to spend Christmas together, he doesn’t hesitate to bare his naughty wife’s bottom and spank her soundly.

 

After the punishment is over, Drew quickly reminds his little girl that her daddy will always take care of her, and soon Chloe is snuggling in his lap, drinking hot chocolate, and being given a bubble bath. But when he finds out the secret reason she was slipping off to work, will it make him as happy as she hopes?

 

Her Stern Doctor, by Morganna Williams

After she speaks rudely to Dr. Derek Malcom one time too many, young nurse Kendra Jacoby finds herself in his office at the end of her shift expecting to be fired. But the doctor has other plans, and soon the sassy girl is lying across his lap as her bare bottom is thoroughly spanked.

 

Kendra is burning with desire by the time the punishment is over, and being brought to a humiliating climax over Derek’s knee only increases her need for him to take her long and hard. But when a powerful winter storm leaves them snowed in together, what will his plans for the night include?

 

Kept for Christmas, by Sara Fields

After Raina LeBlanc shows up for a meeting unprepared because she was watching naughty videos late at night instead of working, she finds herself in trouble with Dr. Eliot Knight, her stern, handsome boss. He makes it clear that she is in need of strict discipline, and soon she is lying over his knee for a painful, embarrassing bare-bottom spanking.

 

Though her helpless display of arousal during the punishment fills Raina with shame, she is both excited and comforted when Eliot takes her in his arms after it is over, and when he invites her to spend the upcoming Christmas holiday with him she happily agrees. But is she prepared to offer him the complete submission he demands?

 

Publisher’s Note: A Very Naughty Christmas includes spankings, sexual scenes, age play, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

 

 

Buy Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

AllRomance

Kobo

 

Contact Links

Dinah: Facebook                   Twitter                        Blog                 Amazon Author Page

 

Maddie: Facebook                 Twitter                        Blog                 Amazon Author Page

 

Meredith: Facebook              Twitter                        Blog                 Amazon Author Page

 

Morganna: Facebook                                                Blog                 Amazon Author Page

 

Sara: Facebook                      Twitter                        Blog                 Amazon Author Page

 

Thanks for having us over again!

 

 

 

The Golden Sword by Janet Morris #SciFi #eBook — Now available on Amazon KU!

goldensword

Biology shapes reality.

The further adventures of the most beautiful courtesan in the galaxies of tomorrow.

She had the power to create planets.
The sixty carved bones of the Yris-tera
foretold her ancient fate.
Her heritage of power took her beyond
time and space and stole from her the
one man she loved.

Enslaved on the planet Silistra tomorrow’s
most beautiful courtesan unleashes the
powers of the gods.

Golden Sword Excerpt:
I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, but no sound could I coax from my parched throat.
And then I smelled it. My nostrils drank first, of the particles the air carried to me. I will never forget the strength of that odor, the coolness, the life my nose and throat received from the very air. Water. It was on my lips and in my mouth and spreading through my dust-covered innards. The feel of it as it dribbled upon my chin will stay with me as long as I live. My throat knew no longer how to swallow, my tongue had forgotten its task.
The faces in front of me sharpened, took focus. I tried with my eyes to thank them. I managed a wordless sound. I felt again the bladder’s rim against my lips, the ecstasy of the liquid in my mouth. There was an arm under my head, hands at my throat. The cloak fell away.
“Quiet, little crell, do not waste your strength.” The voice came from above and behind me. I was held high in the air. Strong arms supported me as if I weighed nothing. My abraded flesh felt tight-curled hairs, moist and warm, where he held me to him. I remembered. Cahndor, one had called another. “Will of the sand” does that word mean. And crell, one had called me. I tried to protest. I was Estri Hadrath diet Estrazi, former Well-Keepress of Astria, surely no crell. Crell is a Parset word, for nowhere else upon Silistra does such a status exist. A crell is other than chaldless, other than human; that beast of burden which walks upon two legs rather than four. But my protest came out a moan, and I sank back exhausted, my head against the dark chest of the man who held me, my gaze lost in the forest of curling black hair upon it. Tiny beads of sweat meandered among the hairs, split in two by the root shafts, and in two again.
“Will she live, Hael? What think you?” came the voice from above and behind.
A face loomed close to mine; breath tickled my cheek. It was a bearded face, and that beard was curled and dressed and beaded and gray with dust.
“Would you raise apprei here, and rest the night and day with her? If so, I could be sure of it. Without shelter and attention, I cannot say.”
“I would not lose the time,” the deeper voice of the man who held me came again.
“Then, Cahndor, I think her chances slim.” The bearded face receded from my sight. A hand touched my face, my brow, raised the lids of my eyes. I heard a roaring in my ears, a great pulsing beat in my head. It seemed unimportant what they said, what they did. Only sleep mattered to me, sleep and escape from my body.

Buy on Amazon.co.uk

Buy on Amazon.com

#MasturbationMonday – A Human Footstool #BDSM

masturbation-monday

It’s MOAN DAY – are you moaning yet? (Hears distant grumbles about Christmas shopping and not being able to park…) No, not that kind of moaning – the naughty kind 😉

ARRpromogif1.gif

A Rough Ride

“Oh, what a delightful wiggle those ass cheeks have and just look at that tiny tail. Lots of room for improvement, don’t you think? I wonder if she’ll be worth buying after she’s finished her training?” The voice was female and her English was tinged with an Italian accent. Her comment was met with a mumbled reply from her male companion. Walking slowly behind the errant pony, the woman was now examining her attempt to tackle the concrete corridor.

Jenny could feel the eyes of the pair boring into her back. Having forgotten how brutal crawling was on her hands and knees, she was now going as slowly as possible in order to lessen the abrasive impact against her skin. Falling behind the main group quickly, Jenny struggled to keep her hands and knees moving against the cold and unforgiving floor.

“I think Petal needs some encouragement, darling,” said Miss Italy and there was another mumbled reply. The next thing Jenny knew, a pointed heel was being firmly pressed into her left buttock and Miss Italy was putting some considerable weight behind it. Jenny shrieked loudly and darted off up the corridor, uncaring of the rubble underneath her. A few minor scratches were nothing when compared with a five inch heel trying to stab for entrance into an already very tender backside.

“Hmm, pity,” said Miss Italy, her lips forming a delicate moue as Petal raced off ahead. “I was just thinking that the little horsy would make an amazing footstool installed permanently in the centre of our lounge, darling.”

Jenny raced on ahead, not wanting to hear the rest of that particular conversation, and bemoaned the new throbbing pain in her ass cheek. It was obvious who wore the trousers in that relationship, she thought sourly. Darting in between legs once more as she caught up with the main group, she gave no thought to anything bar escaping the pair behind her. Her lungs burned for air but she paid them little attention. She was too intent on trying to listen to Matthius, who was giving his captive audience a taste of what was to come.

0093d

Head on to MasturbationMonday for lots more seriously HOT snippets!

%d bloggers like this: