Excerpt: Best Bondage Erotica 2011

In December 2010, I had a story published in Best Bondage Erotica 2011, edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. The story I wrote, “Sealed for Freshness,” was inspired by my friend Claire. I’d asked my Twitter followers for some ideas for an S&M story I was writing, and Claire suggested Saran-wrap bondage. Her suggestion reminded me of a scene I’d witnessed at a fetish party a year or so earlier, where a dominatrix had bound her submissive in plastic wrap and left him against a pole with a sign that told others to tickle him. With that in mind, I sat down and wrote. And I couldn’t resist naming my story’s lead character after Claire, as a weird thank-you for the inspiration. Below is an excerpt from the story:

With Mitchell encased practically from head to toe, I put away the plastic wrap and then circled his body, taking in his appearance from every angle. I had him trapped in layer upon layer of strong plastic film, but I could still make out his body’s natural lines and curves through the thin sheets. It excited me immensely, and I paused long enough to rub my cunt through my leather, just to take the edge off. Then it was time to play.

Walking across the room, I picked up my favorite flogger and a red ball-gag. “Come here,” I ordered, my voice stern but my eyes, I’m certain, giving away my amusement at his predicament. Mitchell blanched at the command, but he had no choice, and so he attempted to obey, his feet wiggling and toes reaching as he tried to cross the room. The task was nearly impossible—-we both knew it—-but like any good submissive, he did his bet, and he’d traveled almost a full yard before I ordered him to stop wasting my time with his snail-like pace and went to meet him instead.

My flogger in one hand, I traced the other over Mitchell’s body, running it along his ass and over his cock, which was becoming erect and pushing against its plastic prison. I grinned and imagined just how hard his cock would become once I started his punishment—-and how hard it would strain to break through the plastic. Mmm, I thought, this will be fun!

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Excerpt: Smooth

A lot of the erotica/smut I write has a theme. I like it that way. The focus of a particular topic (oral sex, S&M, kink, MILFs, etc.) always makes it easier to reign in my inner rambler and bang out a sexy story. Sometimes, though, the theme is open to interpretation. Such was the case with Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Smooth. The call asked for stories from a woman’s perspective, and the only theme we were given was “naked.” Since I tend to make my characters strip at least a little before they get it on, that left it pretty vague. I chose to define “naked” as “vulnerable,” and I wrote about a young woman who feels most vulnerable when she’s showing off her tattoos.

A friend of mine has an intense tattoo fetish, and when I told him what I was working on, he was excited. I’d asked him for advice when writing tattoo fetish pieces in the past, but I decided to tackle this one solo. When it was done, I asked him to give it a once-over for me, tell me if it worked for him. His response? “HOT!!!” (I have the saved text message to prove it.) An excerpt from my story, “Ink,” is below. Tell me if you agree with his assessment:

The drive to my house was a blur, and I honestly don’t remember the ride. Maybe he sped all the way there, or maybe it just felt that way, but one minute I was sliding into the cramped seat of the small black coupe and in what felt like seconds his hand was reaching into the open door to pull me back out. For the first time, I got the key into the lock and swung the door wide without fumbling, and the stairs to my second-floor apartment went by in a flash. We weren’t running; Jason was politely taking his time, looking around and saying ridiculously mundane things about my decorating. Then he turned back to me, standing in the doorway to the living room, pushed me back against the door frame and started to ravage me. He took control of this kiss the way I had our earlier lip-lock against his car, and I moaned into his mouth, loving his sudden show of sexual aggression.

Hands and lips wandered as we kissed, and I waited for the inevitable clothing removal. It took longer than expected—-such a gentleman, he was—-but eventually his fingers were under my cardigan, my skin tingling with the first gentle touches.

Jason pushed my sweater off my shoulders, leaving me in only a tank top—-and baring my arms for the first time. He didn’t notice my tattoos at first, my three-quarter sleeves hard to make out in the dim light. It wasn’t until he moved to kiss the now-bare skin at the base of my neck that he caught sight of the ink inching up my shoulder. He stilled, his lips pausing only millimeters above my skin, his warm breath tickling me. He lifted the hand that was gripping my forearm and lightly trailed his fingertips along the designs decorating my flesh.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled, his lips brushing my shoulder. “Absolutely beautiful.”