Sunday, April 29, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday - 2

 My second try at Six Sentence Sunday. Here are the rules: Pick six (6) sentences from anything you like (it can be from a Work in Progress (WiP), something you recently sold, something you hope to sell or even something already under contract and available for purchase – and don’t worry, Six Sentence Sunday is for published AND unpublished writers). Then post them on your blog on Sunday. 
Since the sequel to "Something Twisted This Way Comes" was just accepted for publication this week, I thought I'd choose something from that. Here we go:
Holding one beautiful, slender, exquisite foot in his hand after holding one in his dreams for so long made him yearn to kiss it. He looked up at her. She nodded knowingly. ‘One,’ she said. So he placed one reverent kiss on the top, as he inhaled her scent, the nylon brushing his lips.
The shushing sound of the nylon of her stocking against the hard leather of her shoe and the subtle pop as her heel slipped into place made his cock ache.
 If you'd like to know more about Six Sentence Sunday, check their website,

Saturday, April 28, 2012

YOUR interview... with me!

Via Twitter from @Carla­_Croft…
What gets you in the mood to write erotica?
Lots of things! A sexy comment in a TV show or movie, reading something weird  about anything sexual on Wikipedia (I know, I’m a total freak), reading an interesting string on the Tantalism website (dedicated to female tease and denial, if you’re not familiar), and so many other things. I think about sex a lot. All the time. So I’m always conjuring sexy ‘what ifs.’ Also, I tend to get good ideas in the shower. If I’m stuck I’ll often strip and head under the spray.

What keeps you in the mood to write erotica?
For me this one is simple: Time. As a wife, a mom, an employee, I don’t often have a big chunk of alone time to write. When I do, it’s amazing and I can write like a wealthy sex addict let loose at the Chicken Ranch can fuck.

What can pull you away from writing erotica?
My child yelling, ‘Mom, I’m done! Come wipe my bum!’ Like a deluge of cold water every time.

From eve h. on my blog
As someone who's always been interested in "all things Japanese", I'm very curious about "Kyoko"... Is it a pen name, and is there a "story" behind it? :P
Yes… and no. Kyoko Church is a pen name. But Kyoko is part of my real name. It’s not much of a story. I’m half Japanese!

What were the first erotic books you read?
Well, the first erotica I read was the forum letters in the Penthouse mags I snuck from my dad! First books were borrowed copies of
Nancy Friday’s My Secret Garden and Women on Top. I don’t know if you’d define those as strictly “erotica books” since they are not stories exactly, but a collection of real fantasies from real women. But they were important to me because it made fantasies okay, showed me I was not alone in being a women who had sexy thoughts that I had previously thought were “wrong” or “bad.” The first erotica book I ever bought was Fiona’s Fate published by Black Lace, which, incidentally, was the publisher to accept my first short story, “Delayed Gratification.” Full circle moment. Someone call Oprah.

And... what is the biggest "taboo" subject you'd like to write about?
Oo! GREAT question! Hmm. Actually, the novella I’m working on right now for HarperCollins is based on my short story, “Something Twisted This Way Comes,” my first foray into Femdom. In the sequel, “The Breaking of subPaul,” (just accepted by Mischief this week, actually!) there is an adult nursing scene. This is not something I even realized was a thing! And not something I had ever thought of as arousing before. But it’s something that just ended up fitting as a loving act between the characters within the story. I hadn’t thought of whether or not it was taboo before now. I try not to consider taboos as I’m writing and just let whatever comes come. (Especially if it’s me.) But thanks to Shanna Germain’s Facebook post, just today I read this article. So considering these are the kinds of attitudes people attach to breastfeeding, I guess that subject could be considered taboo.

From Tickle Lover on my blog
See a lot of tickling making it's way into these great BDSM novels and novellas. Ticklish, Kyoko?
OMG, this totally makes me squirm! Lol. To be honest, I am very ticklish but I used to have nightmares about being tickled till I couldn’t breathe. So it kind of scares me! But I do have a bit of a kink-on for POT, post orgasm torture. Mostly watching/inflicting. Not so much as the victim. Mostly. ;)
Ever tried it as part of your sex life?
Never really thought about it… UNTIL NOW!

Emailed questions
What does Kyoko Church signify? (My imagination hopes it means you are cutely Asian. My imagination is usually stupidly wrong.)
So I answered this one. I am half Asian. Cutely so? I guess that’s a matter of opinion!

If you mentioned which country you’re in now, I missed it.
And why are you moving to Australia?
I have family there. Hubby likes the more ‘work to live’ rather than ‘live to work’ lifestyle.
I hope so!

Did you ever take any writing courses or is your excellent style self taught?
Excellent style? Wow. Thanks! (I swear, someone sent me this question, I didn’t make it up myself!) I have taken two writing classes, one at a university level and one college. Plus a few workshops. But I read. A lot. Always have. I love to read!

If I were to write a Kyoko into one of my stories, what kind of role would tickle you most?
Again with the tickling! Lol. Hm, what a different question! Most of the fantasy roles I dream about I write into MY stories. But I think, despite currently being in Femdom mode, I do identify more with my submissive side. So any kind of naughty little (of age!) school girl would probably do it.

What are your favorite 'little games' and how do you rate them?
Any kind of power exchange games are definitely my favourite. Rate them? Hm, like one clitoral erection out of three? Lol. I don’t know!

From John Wonderly on my blog
 Do you ever get off on what you receive from your loyal followers as far as comments, emails or whatever that might be somewhat "suggestive"?
First, I think you overestimate how many “loyal follower” emails and comments I get! When I tweet I mostly feel like I’m talking to myself. ;) Second, I guess it depends what you mean by “get off on.” Like, I need to excuse myself and have some alone time with my toy? No, I don’t think that’s ever happened. But if you mean, get a little frisson of sexy happiness, for sure! Or sexy naughtiness, yum! Yes!

From spdy on my blog
It seems unlikely or even impossible that you have personal experience with all the scenarios you write about in your stories. Yet, you write with incredible detail and realism. How do you conduct your research or gather information that helps you write so vividly about such a wide variety of erotic activities?
Unlikely or impossible, huh? Actually I have a guy I keep shackled up in my house. Whenever I get a wicked little idea I just haul him out to touch, tease and torment. I call him The Gimp. Hubby doesn’t mind. He’s very sweet and non-threatening, is my little gimpie. ;)

So there you have it! Everything you ever wanted to know about me. Comments? You know where to put 'em! And thank you to everyone who participated. I really enjoyed reading and answering your questions. I appreciate you taking the time to write to me. :)

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Ask Me!

Do you follow other erotica writers’ blogs? If not, I’m flattered I’m your one and only! But if so you may have noticed that sometimes they’ll invite each other to guest blog or do an interview. Since I’m new to this I don’t exactly have anybody banging down my door to interview me. (No, it’s okay, don’t feel bad. I cry myself to sleep on my pillow, but I’ll be fine). Then I thought, whose questions would I really want to answer? Well, yours of course! Who better than the readers in my little following to ask questions?

So for the next three days I’m taking your questions. Be creative! While questions such as, Please provide me with your exact street address so I may stalk you, will not be entertained something like, Do you do all your writing in your pajamas? or, Do you really enjoy giving blowjobs?, will! Anything that makes me blush (YES, there are still things that make even me blush!) I will try and answer honestly, though I may have to look at the screen through my fingers and type with one hand (no, not THAT kind of one handed typing, you perv!).

How to send them? Tweet them! Type them in the comments section! Write it on my Facebook wall! Send me an email! (kyokochurch at hotmail dot com). I’ll take it which ever way I can get it. And now you don’t have to ask that.

So send me your questions! Don’t hold back. Seriously. If this ends up being an interview with only two questions that’ll be really embarrassing. I’ll put them all together and put a post up with the answers on Saturday. Yay! It’ll be fun… I think. ;)


P.S. Sorry my blog header has a split personality. Bear with me. I'm working on getting her medicated. 

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Curvy Girls Anthology Review

Here's my review for "Curvy Girls." To purchase or see more about this anthology, click here.

I hadn’t even begun to read the stories in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s collection, “Curvy Girls” but just April Flores’s Foreword alone made me want to stand up and cheer. But then I thought, perhaps I should sit back down again. Because isn’t this 2012? Would it be like cheering a book celebrating Gay Pride? Because, while of course we should celebrate gay pride, we already do. It’s pretty much a given, or at least it is in my circles.

But the fact is, although yes it is 2012, we still do need to stand up and cheer for women accepting themselves as they are, whatever the size. There are still plenty, PLENTY of biases against fat women (like the n word, I’m still not even comfortable writing this f word), even in my own head. I don’t know if you’d call me fat – although I’ve certainly called myself that, and not in a nice way, more times than I care to admit – but you also wouldn't say I was thin. Like Bussel admits in her introduction, I too have curves I like and others I like less. And sometimes it just depends – on the day, who I’ve been with, what I’ve been watching on TV, what time of the month it is, whether I helped myself to that bag of chips in the cupboard and a whole myriad of other variables – as to whether or not I accept my wobbly bits.

Here’s a question I asked myself when I sat down to read this book: If I’m less curvy than the curvy girls in this book, will I still enjoy it? The answer, in short, is yes. And here’s why. I think all women can identify with being made to feel less than because of some fundamental part of themselves. For some it’s tied up with weight. It sometimes is for me. More often for me it’s this: Nice girls don’t have those thoughts. I’ve begun exorcising those demons through writing erotica. So to see other women at all various stages of accepting themselves, as the women in these stories are, makes me happy. Makes me proud. Makes me want to say, yes, we are women: we are thin, curvy, prudish, naughty, smart, silly, funny, sexy and everything in between. And it’s all okay. Better than okay. It’s awesome.

I also want to mention something neither Bussel nor Flores addresses in their introductions but I think is another key point: the men. Yes, these are stories about curvy women but they’re also about the men who love them, lust after them, teach them to love themselves if they’re not there yet. Are these men lowering their standards because they can’t get the thin girl? NO. These are smart men. Handsome men. Sexually mature men. So not only does this book break stereotypes about curvy women, it also does so for the men who love every gorgeous inch of them. Not in spite of their curves. Because of them. It is a complete myth that all men are only attracted to thin women. Sure, some are. And some are not.

As for the stories themselves, wow, there’s a lot of good stuff in here. I dare say something for everyone. The stand outs to me were, Justine Elyot’s “Wenching,” because I love when a story can turn me on and make me laugh, industry newcomer Arlene Brand’s “See and Be Seen,” because I loved the richness of her words, Kristina Wright’s “In the Morning Light” took my breath away with it’s ability to be unflinchingly honest about the post partum woman’s body and yet still be a turn on, a feat I am amazed and humbled by, and then both Sommer Marsden’s “Runner’s Calves” and Isabelle Gray’s “Marked” for being simultaneously really well written and really fucking hot. I almost don’t want to pick out these few though, since each story is compelling in its own right and worthy of your time.

Curvy girl or no, do yourself a favour and get this deliciously sensuous book. You won’t be disappointed!

Monday, April 23, 2012

FREE ebook! (Reposting since now it IS free on Amazon US. Yay!)

Hi everyone!

I have such exciting news for you! HarperCollins is doing a huge push in the ebook market right now so the anthology that has my story "The Game," as well as lots more steamy, smutty reads, is FREE. FREE! Plus a bunch of their other stuff is marked down 50-70%! Click here to get "Submission: A Treasury of Women Who Like to Give In." They are saying it's only being offered free for a limited time. So don't delay!

If you like the "Submissions" ebook and want more of these promotions, click Like on Amazon or tweet/share this. Or do a review! All of that helps to push our stuff forward and opens the doors for more possibilities.

Do I need to mention that if you follow/friend me you can find out about more promotions like this in the future? Nah. You're smart. You'll figure that out.

Cheers, friends!


Saturday, April 21, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday

So I’m trying something new today! I signed up for something called Six Sentence Sunday. Here are the rules from
Pick six (6) sentences from anything you like (it can be from a Work in Progress (WiP), something you recently sold, something you hope to sell or even something already under contract and available for purchase – and don’t worry, Six Sentence Sunday is for published AND unpublished writers). Then post them on your blog on Sunday. That’s all there is to it!

I have chosen six sentences from the beginning of my new Femdom short story, “Something Twisted This Way Comes.” Here it is:

It was a dark time for him. Dark and titillating.
He hadn’t thought the two qualities could be so exquisitely combined. Or if he had, it was just an inkling, he’d only known somewhere in the recesses of his mind, on the edges of his fantasies. But it was there. The chocolate and peanut butter of sexual dysfunction.

So there you have it! If you’d like to give the Six Sunday a try, visit their website, And if you want to read more of my story, it just happens to be 50% right now here if you're in the UK. If you're in North America check the discounted price will be effective Monday on Amazon here. If you need it in .epub, check here.

As always, I want your feedback on this post, the story, other stories, how your day is going, you know, whatevs! 


Friday, April 20, 2012

Lots to say!

Hello lovely readers,

I’m back from my self imposed sequestration (yes, it’s a word, I looked it up and everything) in the woods. I wrote furiously (and, um, did something else so, but that’s neither here nor there) and got over 10,000 words written so it was a success! As long as what I’ve written is not crap. Is it crap? I have no bloody idea. It’s so hard to have perspective on one’s own work. Anyway, this means I’m half way there to having my novella written and the contract is “being organized” so it’s all good. Want to know what it’s about? You can read the short story that inspired the novella! It just came out yesterday. More on that further down.

In the meantime, I’ve found out about the free books from HarperCollins. Amazon US will have the adjusted pricing available on Monday, April 23, 2012. It won’t be often that I tell you NOT to buy my book, but… don’t buy it! Yet. Get it free here on Monday.

Also, my newest story, “Something Twisted This Way Comes” just came out yesterday! And Mischief is offering that at 50% off on Monday too. So get that one here. It’s my first foray into femdom and I’m a little nervous about it. So be gentle with me! Wanna little peek at it ahead of time? Sure you do, you naughty thing. See the excerpt below.

I’m told this free and discounted material is being offered “for a limited time.” So don’t delay! Free stuff rocks!

And if you do use Amazon and want to write a review of these or any other books on there, please do. It’s always great to have feedback.

Time is almost up on my latest pervy poll. Thanks to all who voted. It looks like everyone is pretty meh on the whole period topic… so I won’t be diving into that area in my next story! LOL. Do you like the pervy polls? Comment and let me know!

If you are thinking my blog header looks weird, you’re right. I know. I started messing with it right before I left, screwed it up, and haven’t had time to set it right. So bear with me. I’ll get it fixed ASAP.

Phew! I had a lot to tell you. See what happens when I don’t have wifi for a couple of days??

Okay, without further ado, here is a little snippet from “Something Twisted This Way Comes…”

After lunch one day she called him in his office.
‘I’m going to send you an email,’ she said, the sultry tones of her voice coming through the phone like ribbons of silk weaving around his body. ‘When you get it, don’t open it. You are not allowed to open it until you are ready to go home.’
The email came through. He looked at it sitting there in his Inbox, subject line ‘For Your Drive,’ in its bolded print indicating it was unread, the darkness of the lettering making it appear so much more intense than the other pathetic emails beneath it and eventually over top of it.
He glanced at the clock. 1:35. He had almost four hours until it would be appropriate, usual for him to leave. Maybe he could squeeze it to three and a half. The hours stretched out like a long road in front of him. It was torture wondering what the message said, being semi hard over words he hadn’t even read yet. How was he going to sit for all that time without reading it? What did it say?
From: MistressD
To: SubPaul
Subject: For Your Drive
Hi! This email is for your drive home. If you have opened it before then, stop, close this up. Open it back up when you are about to drive home. Put it away. Now.
Okay. Are you alone now? Good boy. Have you been thinking about me? Of course you have. You’re always thinking about me, aren’t you? I’ve taken up residence in that naughty little brain of yours.
I have to address the fact that your wife doesn’t go down on you. Have you wondered why I haven't commented on that in our emails? Did you think I hadn't noticed or maybe it wasn't important to me? Oh no. No, no, no. I took very keen notice of that. I have thought about that. A LOT. Because here's something you should know about me. I LOVE to suck cock. I fucking love it. The power. I really get off on the power of it. I know that if I had my lips and tongue anywhere near your cock right now I would have complete control over you. Total.
So, Mr. I-haven't-had-a-blowjob-in-20-years, when I get my hands on you again I’m going to strip you down, sit you on a chair, cuff your hands behind your back and start licking. That spot. You know that spot? Oh yes, the one just under your head, that sensitive spot that you told me you couldn't touch because it gets you there too quickly? Aw, poor baby. Too fucking bad. I like that spot. I would flick and tongue and kiss and suck that spot until you were a pleading, begging, weeping, sopping fucking mess. Don't you dare cum in my face. I mean, Mistress loves cum, but I don't want it yet. You fucking hold it back, slut.
Now. Put your phone away. Start your car. And think about this email the whole way home. Try subtly to get wifey to fuck you tonight. Report back to me in the morning.

Oh. God.
Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.
Like a zombie he turned the keys in the ignition. He started the engine. His cock was so hard he could feel the vibrations of the motor right through his body. Her words ran through his brain. He could see himself, in her office, strapped to her chair, helpless with her tongue on his trigger and her ordering him not to explode. Don’t you dare cum in my face. Oh god. You fucking hold it back, slut. Oh fuck.
His cock gave one hard pulse. And then the combination of his pants pressing down on his stiff flesh, the vibrations from the car engine and, mostly, her words whirling around in his head sent pressure through his body it was helpless to combat. He swallowed hard, let out a strangled cry and released in one large spurt.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Update and Chapter 6

Hello! Just a heads up that I'm going to be incommunicado for the next few days while I shut myself in a cottage in the woods without Internet access so that I will be forced to write, write, write! I don't know what you're like but if I have Internet access I am often lured away by Twitter, Facebook... porn. You know how that goes. But I don't want to leave you high and dry with nothing to amuse you while I'm gone! So here is the next chapter in "Affliction." Enjoy and keep commenting, etc. while I'm gone! I will get back to you ASAP!

Chapter 6
Ewan Draper came home that night eagerly anticipating his participation in his wife’s new course of treatment.
He’d had a successful day, his meeting with Phillip’s father having gone even better than he’d expected. The elder Samms was eager to continue doing business, not only with the married man that Ewan now was, but with the man responsible for his son’s gainful new employment, in a medical capacity, no less. News had gotten to Maxwell Samms that his son had been consulting with various men in the medical field in an effort to help Ewan’s wife with some kind of women’s issue. Ewan felt no need to further enlighten him.
When Ewan entered the master suite, his wife was dozing on the bed while Phillip read silently in a chair beside.
‘Good evening, Ewan,’ Phillip greeted, rising and looking up from his medical journal. ‘Your wife did extremely well today. I’m very pleased with the outcome.’
‘I’m interested to know the particulars,’ Ewan said, moving to the bedside and gazing down at his sleeping bride. Even in slumber she provoked a physical response from him, and his loins stirred slightly as he thought of what must have gone on in his absence.
‘Certainly,’ Phillip said. ‘For now though, you may bed her if you wish.’
‘I do,’ Ewan murmured, still looking at her.
‘Just a word of caution before you start,’ Phillip said. ‘Although her treatment this afternoon was successful I’m still not certain of what her reactions to your physical advances will be. I need you to avoid contact with certain areas of her body that are susceptible to excitation. I also need you to be aware of the signs that you are leading her to dangers levels.
‘You need to avoid the clitoris,’ Phillip went on. ‘Do not put pressure here, on her pelvic mound.’ Phillips said, motioning to the area on Lilly’s sleeping form. ‘If she begins to pant or gyrate her hips, I need you to slow down or it may even be necessary to stop completely.’ Ewan looked doubtfully at his friend. ‘I’m sure you won’t need to worry about this, Ewan. I only warn you as a precaution. As I said, we had a very successful session today.’
Ewan, his organ already stiff hearing the description of his wife’s possible reactions, bade Phillip leave them then. ‘It really is advisable that I stay on and monitor this activity, Ewan,’ Phillip protested.
‘I’ve heard what you said,’ Ewan growled, impatient now. Opening the door, he ushered his friend out.

‘That’ll be all James,’ Ewan said. James’s eyes narrowed on Ewan and Phillip as he closed the library door. Ewan saw Phillip notice. ‘James is extremely displeased with my current marital situation,’ Ewan said. ‘More than usual.’
            ‘Indignant is the word I’d use,’ Phillip mused.
            ‘Yes, well, James is always priggish about these matters. But I was only following his advice to get married in the first place.’
            ‘Well, he was right about one thing. The old man will certainly be more comfortable. I assume your meeting with him went well.’
            ‘Yes, fine.’ Ewan stared off.
            ‘Penny for your thoughts.’
            ‘Hmm? Oh yes. Uh, tell me more about Lillianne’s therapy today.’ Ewan said, getting up and pouring the usual cognacs for he and Phillip.
            ‘Certainly, Ewan,’ Phillip replied, accepting the glass. ‘What would you like to know.’
            ‘Well, to start, was she receptive to treatment?’
            ‘Yes. Well, I have to have her restrained, as you know, just due to the nature of her illness.’ Ewan nodded. ‘Initially she was very … afflicted. However, I managed to get the situation in hand, as it were and, after quite some time, paroxysm was reached in a clinically appropriate manner.’ Phillip took a sip of his cognac and looked thoughtful. ‘It can be difficult to remain … professional.’
            ‘Meaning?’ Ewan asked, an eyebrow raised.
            ‘I mean, her reactions are compelling. I initially found myself quite caught up in them.’ Seeing Ewan’s face, he quickly added, ‘Of course, I got control of the situation immediately.’
            ‘She was out of control?’
            ‘Ewan, such is the nature of the beast with which we are dealing.’ Phillip leaned forward in his chair, looking earnestly at his friend. ‘Her nymphomania means that her passions control her. But she is not so afflicted that she cannot be reasoned with. I simply explained to her that, during her therapy, she must attempt to remain calm and dignified. The illness dictates that we have to bring about paroxysm so as to manage the daily symptoms. But she cannot thrash about, screaming and carrying on while I am attempting to help her. Then she certainly will be carried off to the asylum.’
            ‘And she heeded your advice?’
‘It took great time and effort, Ewan. I worked with her for about three hours this afternoon. Each time her illness took hold and she began to thrash and wail I sternly admonished her and began again.’
‘And this worked?’
‘To some degree,’ Phillip replied, looking down.
‘Phillip, please, this is my wife. Be plain with me,’ Ewan said.
‘Of course, I’m sorry, Ewan.’ Phillip rubbed is forehead. ‘To be honest, this is an area where not all experts agree. So I am proceeding with the best medical advice I can find.’ He drained his glass and continued. ‘We’d been working for three hours, as I’ve said. Each time I would progress with the healing portion of the massage, the illness would cause movement, vocalizations, and the like. But you mustn’t lose hope, Ewan. I really felt she was trying. At any rate, in the end, her paroxysm was quite violent, despite my patience and slow approach. She was finally able to control her screaming, limited that to panting and gasping, but, even restrained, there was thrashing. It appeared involuntary.’
Ewan was silent as he listened to the description of his wife’s therapy. What a difference between her reactions with Phillip and the sanctioned consummating that transpired between husband and wife after the therapy was complete. It was true, after Phillip’s work she was more like the dutiful wife that was appropriate for her status. She lay beneath Ewan and simply moaned and sighed quietly as he made love to her. It was perfect, really.
So then what was this feeling that was gnawing at him?

James sat on his narrow single bed in his butler’s quarters, frustrated. Enraged. Damn that Lillianne. He knew from the beginning there was something about that woman. Harlot! How could he have let the wedding proceed?
            So much for the quiet, conventional married life he’d envisioned for his master. Lillianne became part of the household and turned everything upside down. Now that ridiculous Phillip Samms was here! Ewan was more distracted and unavailable than ever. Samms and his preposterous treatments. Using Draper Estate like his own nefarious playground. How could Ewan not see he was simply a misogynistic ne’er-do-well that was reeking havoc and making a mockery of his private life?
            All James had ever wanted was success for Ewan Draper, his lord and master. That was his duty to his profession, his calling, as butler of Draper Estate. Helping his lord have an appropriate, respectable home life so that he was free to achieve greatness with Draper Industries was James’s ultimate goal. Couldn’t his lordship see that?
Damn! James pounded his fist on his bed, let out a frustrated sigh and lay back, closing his eyes. An image of Ewan and Phillip in the library as his master dismissed him flashed in his mind. He grimaced in frustration even as the familiar stirrings took hold. He tried to ignore it. But the more he battled against his feelings the more his body insisted.
No. I will not, he told himself.
Sitting up he adjusted himself so that he could go to the kitchen and get a knife.

‘Please, Doctor! PLEASE! Oh god!’ Ewan could hear the shrieking and pleading as he was coming down the hall.
            He felt a potent mix of horrifying guilt and pounding arousal. He was late. He hadn’t meant to be. There had been a mix up with a vendor for the mill, a problem only he could attend to. By the time he’d finished up he was two hours late for his session with Lilly.
            After those first few days under Phillip’s care she’d pleaded with Ewan to do something, to change her treatment. It was the justification Ewan needed.
Ewan could barely admit it to himself, didn’t want to think too long about what it meant, but he hadn’t been enjoying fucking his wife after her therapy, her limp body lifeless under him while he pumped his seed perfunctorily into her. Not when the memory of what her thrashing pulsing body had felt like lived in his head. Lilly’s unhappiness was the excuse he gave himself to tell Phillip that he now wanted to be present to oversee his wife’s therapy. Phillip had initially balked but Ewan insisted. As he explained to Phillip, he felt it was only practical that he eventually assume management of his wife’s affliction himself and how could he learn to do so unless he was privy to how it was managed. They eventually came to a compromise. Phillip could begin with some testing, research to better understand the limitations and parameters of Lilly’s body and how it was affected, as he explained to Ewan. But he would not begin treatment and definitely not bring about paroxysm until Ewan was present.
            Now Ewan was two hours late. He could only imagine, based on the desperate pleading emitting from the lab, what kind of testing Dr. Phillip Samms was conducting.

Monday, April 16, 2012

FREE ebook!

Hi everyone!

I have such exciting news for you this morning! HarperCollins is doing a huge push in the ebook market so right now so the anthology that has my story "The Game," as well as lots more steamy, smutty reads, is FREE. FREE! Plus a bunch of their other stuff is marked down 50-70%! Click here to get "Submission: A Treasury of Women Who Like to Give In." Also check back on April 19th for my first Femdom story since they're offering it for 50% off here. If you prefer Amazon click here. Problems? I want to know about it! Comment and let me know so I can tell the powers that be.

If you like the "Submissions" ebook and want more of these promotions, click Like on Amazon or tweet/share this. Or do a review! All of that helps to push our stuff forward and opens the doors for more possibilities.

Do I need to mention that if you follow/friend me you can find out about more promotions like this in the future? Nah. You're smart. You'll figure that out.

Cheers, friends!


Sunday, April 15, 2012

Pervy Polls

Do you enjoy participating in polls?

I do, if the subject matter appeals to me. Would you like it if I conducted polls more often? Because I’ve been thinking. Sometimes I write stuff and think, that’s really sick and twisted. Nobody will want to read that. But more recently I’ve started to run ideas past a couple people who I trust not to judge me. And they’ve said, no that’s really hot, you should write that. So I have. And I think it’s really worked!

So I thought, why not expand my focus group? If I can get your opinions and perhaps find out what you want to see more of in erotica, or what you want to read that’s not out there already, that would be a good way of keeping in touch with you as readers and hopefully writing stuff you want to read. Or at the very least maybe it will spark some interesting discussions!

So what do you think? Or shall I just stick with always posting smutty stories? I was going to make this a poll but thought maybe you’d prefer to express yourself with comments. I’m all ears!

Enough comments and I might be persuaded to post the next installment of Affliction... (Yes, that's what's known as a bribe.)

Saturday, April 14, 2012

A Balancing Act

I’m having a bit of a personal crisis right now.

Here is the question: How do you write as a career while also being a wife, a mother, working a part-time job and planning a move from one side of the globe to the other? Answers? Anyone? Bueller?

The thing is, I suspect just being a wife and writer is difficult enough. I imagine a lot of partners of writers know the particular loneliness of being in the same room with the person you love and knowing that while that person is physically there, she is not mentally there, off as she is plotting the next scene. Add erotica writer to the mix and you have the added face slap of knowing it’s probably with her face in someone else’s crotch. It’s a lot to ask of a person, really.

Hubby is lovely. You’d really like him. So very handsome, best dad ever, very good in the kitchen. And in the bedroom, well… *eyes glaze over* What was I saying? Oh, right. It’s okay. He knows that the only one I want is him. And the fact that he lets me have my little fantasies, write them down and share them with anyone who happens to enjoy the kinky little things that crop up in my dirty mind, well, that’s what keeps me sane. And helps me love him even more.

But sometimes it gets a bit much. It must feel like I’m constantly … away. Away with the kids, away at my part time job, and then even when I’m home with him, away in my head. It gets lonely for him. I can’t say as I blame him for saying so.

So how do I do it? How do I fit it all in? I’m just not sure.

I’m telling myself, and him, that once we are settled Down Under, the kids are in school full time and he’s working, I can happily be writing away in what will hopefully be our cozy little home with a room set aside just for that. Dare I say a Room of My Own. And so then when we are reunited at the end of each day I can be fully present, having wrung my twisted, freaky self out onto the pages of my aging laptop while they were gone. Possible? Only time will tell…

Friday, April 13, 2012

My Kingdom For a Name

The time on my blog is a little wonky so it says there is still time left but in fact, voting is closed. Thank you to those who participated! The majority voted for At Her Feet which was, incidentally, my favourite as well so you just confirmed my feelings. Awesome! Glad I have my finger on the pulse of the BDSM world. Ha! Right!

Now didn't I promise you something in return? What was it now... Oh yes! The next installment of Affliction.

Okay, no more teasing. (Although you love it, don't you, you naughty slut!) Here it is...

Chapter 5

‘Ewan, this is serious.’

Ewan Draper and Phillip Samms sat in the library at Draper Mansion, each with a cognac.

‘I know it is, dammit,’ Ewan said, draining his glass and reaching for the bottle. ‘You inspected her … afterwards. Is she cured?’

‘She is,’ Phillip replied hesitantly. ‘I inspected the clitoris after your union. Your ill-advised union, I must repeat. Nevertheless, the swelling was significantly reduced and I daresay she’s now most likely returned to a normal state. For the time being,’ he added, leaning forward in the oxblood leather chair. ‘But this is what I was attempting to explain to you, Ewan. I did considerable research on this topic after what you initially described to me and in preparation for what I would be faced with here tonight. I’ve consulted all the foremost experts in this field. Nymphomania is a disease for which there is no cure.’ He paused here, took a drink from his glass. ‘I explained to you how women of this nature accumulate seed, semen, as it were. It is the retention of this fluid that causes the illness. You heard how she panted and gasped. The uterus is being suffocated.’

‘This is all so confusing,’ Ewan muttered. ‘And if we do nothing?’

‘According to my research, left alone this condition can only lead to madness. I mentioned the asylum to you. I did not mean to alarm you, Ewan, but that is the reality of the situation. She needs regular therapy to purge her body of the fluid.’ Seeing the look of despair on his friend’s face, Phillip rose and put his hand on Ewan’s shoulder. ‘Really, Ewan, she is a lucky woman.’ He looked up at Phillip in confusion. ‘You are a man of means. Not to mention you have me. Together we can provide her with the best care available. I will prescribe a regular course of therapy. But we must be careful, my friend. Paroxysm must be brought about slowly and by manual manipulation only. Nymphomaniacs are excitable and must be treated with extreme caution.’

‘But Phillip, this woman is my wife. Are you suggesting I may not bed her?!’ Ewan barked in frustration.

‘Actually, there is some research to suggest that male seminal fluid can have a healing effect,’ Phillip said, as he consulted one of the medical journals. Ewan responded immediately.

‘I see! Well, naturally as her husband I would want to be involved in her healing. You will of course be including my contribution of seminal fluid in the regular course of her treatment.’

The two men discussed the particulars of Lillianne’s treatment for another hour before they retired for the evening. By the end it was decided that Phillip would move into Draper Mansion so that he could assume Lillianne’s care. Had either man been less engrossed in the details of tending to Lilly’s affliction he might have noticed that their entire conversation was being monitored. Monitored very closely.

Characteristics normally attributed to Phillip Samms were: spoiled, frivolous, aimless, lackadaisical. Boston elite largely saw him as a little boy in a grown man’s body, casually flitting between interests as only a man born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth could do. But with regard to Lillianne’s affliction, that Phillip approached his duties with anything other than enthusiasm could not be said. Once the details of his position as resident physician at Draper Estates had been established, he earnestly studied all of the existing literature he could find on the subject of nymphomania, at the university and through the colleagues he knew from his brief time there. Straight away he spoke to the entire Draper household – Ewan, James, Celeste, as well as the other kitchen and house staff – and impressed upon them the severity of their mistress’ illness. His treatments were to be heeded at all costs and were not to be tampered with.

He began by recommending to Ewan that one of his guest bedrooms be converted into a lab room, of sorts. This was where Lilly would be kept, monitored and treated. The bed in the room was fitted with restraints, as it was obvious from her previous actions that she could not be left to her own devices, as well as storage for his medical equipment.

Phillip did his best to explain his findings to Ewan. ‘Left unchecked,’ he began, ‘the patient would masturbate continuously and furiously which would progress the illness into madness. What I must do then, as Lilly’s physician, is to take control. As I explained earlier, paroxysm must be reached only by medical massage. And it is to be brought about slowly, extremely slowly, so as not to excessively excite the patient.’

‘And what of my regular … contributions?’ Ewan asked.

‘Yes,’ Phillip paused, donned his spectacles and consulted his notes. ‘I’ve made allowances in my treatment for regular marital consummation. I’m hoping this sort of normal activity will aid in her mental health.’ Ewan exhaled and smiled a little. ‘But with caution, my friend. And at least for now,’ Phillip pulled off the specs and looked directly at Ewan, ‘For now it will have to be engaged in only under my direct supervision.’ Seeing Ewan frown, Phillip added, ‘This is an extremely tenuous situation. I’m not sure how my therapy will work and we cannot have it thwarted if you were to, say, inadvertently bring about paroxysm through your exertions with her.’

Lillianne could hardly believe what had become of the fantasy life she dreamt for herself. The happily ever after image of she and Ewan living out their lives in wealthy ease and wedded bliss had seemed the inevitable conclusion. And yet somehow it had slipped away. How had it gone so wrong?

Her mornings weren’t so bad, if closely monitored. Generally she spent them with Celeste, once the maid’s early kitchen duties were attended to. Celeste was her sympathetic ear, her true confidante. If Celeste were busy though, James was never far away. Lillianne was all too familiar with what Dr. Samms had told the staff about her illness and James took the task of supervising Lilly’s actions very seriously. He was forever lurking in her periphery.

The afternoons, however, belonged to Dr. Phillip Samms.

After undressing Lilly and strapping her down in his newly converted laboratory for the first time, Dr. Samms explained that he was committed to ensuring her mental well being and that he needed her full cooperation. Lilly’s head, torso and arms were secured to one padded examination table while her legs were each secured to two smaller wheeled ones, thereby allowing the doctor to wheel her legs open or shut. He then tightly rolled up a towel and placed it firmly between her legs which he wheeled shut, locking the wheels in place. This, he explained, was to soak up any fluids that her body emanated. What it served to do, though, was place firm pressure on that button of flesh that was the cause of all this in the first place. The clitoris, the doctor said it was called. With the pressure there, Lilly felt her body, her clitoris, swell as the doctor proceeded.

Phillip Samms finally understood his calling.

His significant success in bedding a multitude of women had all led up to this point. Finally his medical studies (albeit incomplete) had intersected with his passion. He knew what he was supposed to do. He was Lillianne’s saviour. It was up to him.

‘I need to have a clear understanding of all of your body’s triggers and reactions,’ Phillip said quietly as he ran his hands over Lilly’s naked flesh. He had always been entranced by women. Their bodies, so soft and mysterious; he wanted to know them, to discover all their secrets. In all his experiences with women though, never had he had one so available for his perusal, so open to his scrutiny. Now it was not his diversion, but his duty, his obligation to study and understand. To help Lillianne. Clearing his throat, he began his thorough examination, stroking and circling his hands and fingers over each and every part of her and noting any reactions. All the places that caused her breath to catch or quicken: behind her knees, under her arms, the base of her neck, her abdomen, her inner thighs and buttocks, at each of these points Phillip stopped and duly recorded them in his notebook. When he got to her breasts, her nipples were hardened into tight peaks and as his fingers grazed them gently, Lilly gasped in the most significant reaction yet. Phillip noted this and continued to pluck and circle them while Lilly vainly attempted to suppress her reactions. ‘Amazing,’ Phillip muttered as he watched her hips move subtly.

‘I would like to try something here, Lilly,’ he said and then leaned down and placed his lips around her nipple. He experimented with his tongue first, hard flicks, soft laving, light circling, then switched to grazing the nipple lightly with his teeth. He then went to the other nipple and began the same course of stimuli again. All of this caused very significant reactions of gasping and writhing and by the time Phillip was finished with the second nipple, Ewan’s wife was thrusting her hips forcefully into the air.

‘Mm, yes, I think it’s time we check the towel,’ he said, unlocking the wheels on the tables supporting her legs and taking the sodden material from between Lilly’s thighs. ‘Even more wet than I’ve come to expect,’ he said to himself, inspecting it. ‘Well, Lilly, I think it’s time we commence with your treatment.’

‘Please, Dr. Samms,’ Lilly entreated, even as her body continued wriggling slightly. ‘I know you’re only trying to help me. But if I could just see Ewan. I’m sure there’s no need for all of this.’

‘Shhh. Now, now. Everything’s going to be fine,’ Phillip assured as he moved a small stool between Lilly’s legs. With her still protesting, he sat down to her body and labia spread before him. He gently placed a finger on top of her clit and rubbed in small, circles with minimal pressure. Suddenly Lilly’s protests ceased.

Lilly could feel the familiar pressure begin to rise as the doctor manipulated her sensitive flesh. She wanted him to stop, she wanted her husband. But soon, as his finger became wet with her juices and began sliding over and over that little button, her body betrayed her. Now all she wanted was more. She wanted him to press harder, rub faster. She cried out and bucked her hips as his finger continued to tease her engorged bud. ‘Please!’ she gasped. ‘PLEASE!’ she pleaded, her limbs taut against the restraints. And the doctor did rub a little harder then, a little faster. The pressure mounted as Lilly panted and thrust when suddenly the doctor removed his hand.

‘Lillianne, I know your illness makes this difficult for you, but for your therapy to be successful I need you to try and remain calm while I set the pace. I need to concentrate and bring the paroxysm on slowly or this will not be effective.’

‘O-of course, doctor, I’m sorry,’ Lilly whispered shakily. Her bound body twitching, her heart pounding, Lilly lay helpless while the doctor recommenced. Choking back her cries, she tried her best to control her reactions while his fingers stroked her increasingly sensitive flesh. Slowly. Ever so slowly.

Outside the door where Lilly’s screams and pleading had been heard quite plainly, now the eavesdropper had to strain hard to hear.

Thursday, April 12, 2012


I want you to submit. But then, you knew that already, didn’t you?

But today I want you to submit your vote! Want to help choose the title for my novella? You can! See the little poll over there on the top right? Click on the title you find most alluring, sexy, the one that compels you to read! The poll will stay open till tomorrow at 6PM, eastern.

I guess you probably want to know what the story is about. Here’s an idea…

Imagine a man. Just a regular man. An average guy with a wife, a job, average house, average car, average clothes, average sex life… Well, not exactly. He does have one secret in that department. A deep, dark, awful secret. A secret he finds so embarrassing, so humiliating, so horrifying that he never talks to anyone about it, he barely acknowledges it himself. And then one day he meets her. And his life changes.

This is a story about perspective. It’s a story about the ephemeral nature of truth. It’s a story about what can happen when you give your power over to someone willingly, as a gift. And how it can change your life.

Oh, and I should probably mention there’s also a whole bunch of Femdom, tease and denial, erotic humiliation, foot fetish kink, spanking and other filthy depraved stuff.

So go ahead and vote! And as a thank you, when all this voting business is done, I will put up the next chapter so you can find out what poor little Lillianne is going through now, at the hands of that wicked doctor! ;)

Monday, April 9, 2012

Chapter 4

Phillip Samms and Ewan Draper had been friends since their time together as boys at Andover. Afterward, while Ewan was growing his entrepreneurial enterprises, particularly the mill, Phillip went on to study medicine at Harvard. If you could call what Phillip did studying. He was bright but easily distracted and he considered his studies more like a hobby, a sidebar to his real passion… which was women. Needless to say, anatomy class was the only one he never missed. He came from money and as long as the old man was continuing to subsidize Harvard’s growing campus, Phillip could hardly be thrown out. Ewan was not even sure if Phillip ever graduated.

After what Ewan saw late on his wedding night, he could not get his wanton new bride and her lascivious actions out of his head. He bid James ensure she did not leave the premises as he’d commanded and sought out Phillip for consultation.

‘I have heard of women such as this one,’ Phillip had said after Ewan recounted a detailed description of the night’s events. ‘You were right to consult me. It could be that she is in need of medical assistance, Ewan. She should be kept under close scrutiny.’ It was decided that Phillip would stay in the adjoining room in secrecy, so as to monitor Lillianne’s actions. If he suspected a repeat of what Ewan had witnessed he would summon him immediately. ‘In the meantime,’ Phillip said, ‘I will consult my medical journals and educate myself on this sort of behaviour.’ Unbeknownst to Lillianne, Ewan set up his friend in the guest room next to the master. The next night, when Phillip perceived soft sighs and stifled moans from the other side of the thin wall that separated them, he immediately summoned his friend. Ewan came at once, and so it was that the two men stood over Lillianne in the master bedroom at Draper Mansion.

For her part, Lillianne had at least kept the bedclothes covering her this time and the candle had not moved from the bedside. But there could be no mistaking the rapid movements under the covers that the two men perceived as they walked in.

‘Phillip, you see now with your own eyes!’ Ewan said, still incredulous himself as he tore back the covers to reveal the young woman’s hand rapidly retreating from its work between her legs. ‘Slut!’ he spat. ‘Whore!’

‘Now calm down, Ewan, until we see what we’re dealing with,’ Phillip said as his eyes roamed over Lillianne’s quivering body. ‘I’ll need to do a thorough examination.’ She feebly attempted to cover herself with her hands but Ewan grabbed them and, as he had previously, held them above her head so his colleague could perform his exam.

Phillip slid his hands over Lilly’s soft skin, studying her closely and measuring her every reaction. Her eyes appeared glazed with a far away look. When he drew his hand down her cheek and ran his fingers over her lips, she wet them with her tongue and parted them slightly. He traced her lips and then ran his fingertips along her neck and down between her swelling breasts. When he gently cupped them and lightly pinched her nipples the two men watched closely as she closed her eyes, sighed and pushed her pelvis up. Pinching the puckered flesh a little harder caused her to gasp and moan.

‘This will be the true test,’ Phillip murmured almost to himself as he slowly moved his hand down between Lillianne’s legs. Holding two fingers together and with his palm up, he slowly pushed inside of her dark canal. Sighing loudly, Lilly pushed herself down to meet him, until his fingers were completely enveloped within her flesh. Slowly Phillip retracted his fingers to reveal that they were covered with a slick, viscous wetness.

‘What is it, doctor?’ Ewan asked.

‘Seed,’ Phillip said quietly.

‘I don’t understand.’

Phillip cleared his throat. ‘Women of this nature have an abundance, an accumulation of fluid just as a man does.’

‘Of this nature?’ Ewan questioned.

‘Well, I can’t be sure yet. There is one last thing,’ Phillip mumbled as he carefully parted her labia and pubic hair to reveal her swollen clitoris. He bowed his head.

‘It is as I suspected,’ he said. ‘Nymphomania.’

With his finger still wet from her fluids, he began to stroke Lillianne’s turgid bud of flesh slowly up and down. She cried out and wriggled under his hand but Ewan still held fast to her wrists above her head.

‘As you and I know, normal women do not desire nor even need physical gratification the way a man does,’ Phillip explained as he continued stroking his patient. ‘Most women never think of such things and, in the case of married women, just tolerate their husbands’ advances in the course of their marital duties.’ He paused briefly as Lillianne’s cries were reaching a crescendo, waited a moment and then continued stroking more slowly. ‘A woman suffering from this affliction has a compulsive and irrepressible desire for intercourse with a man. Physically, even, she is different. Every woman has what is called a clitoris, a small collection of nerve endings normally hidden beneath what is known as the clitoral hood. In a case such as this one,’ and he stopped rubbing again, pulled Lilly’s legs farther apart and again spread her labia wide open with two fingers for his friend’s view, ‘you can see the clitoris is swollen, distended and discoloured from all the blood rushing to it, not unlike a small cock. If I rub gently here at the tip,’ and he began to move the pad of his wet finger in small, quick circles at the peak of her flesh producing ever more feverish cries, gasps and writhing, ‘you can see there is a significant reaction.’

‘Good God. It’s indecent! What can be done?’

Phillip removed his hands and took on a grave demeanour. ‘Ewan, there is no cure for this illness. Only maintenance. If someone does not assume her care she can be thrown into the asylum.’

Releasing his grasp on her wrists, Ewan stared into Lilly’s eyes. He could not allow the woman he had chosen as his bride to be locked up. The scandal! It would be worse than all of the stories of his philandering put together! She gasped, sobbed and clung to him and he shifted himself uncomfortably in his trousers, trying to hide the effect of Lillianne’s affliction on his body from his friend. Even as she sobbed into his chest, the wretched woman’s body still writhed, betraying her. Ewan pushed her back on to the bed.

‘What is the maintenance you speak of?’

Phillip turned his attention back to Lillianne, placing his fingers again on her wet and swollen clitoris. ‘Massage until hysterical paroxysm is reached cures the patient temporarily,’ he stated matter-of-factly as he rubbed in earnest this time. In no time Lilly began to gyrate her pelvis furiously against Phillip’s hand. Her cries were reaching a fevered pitch.

‘It’s abominable!’ Ewan puffed. ‘I can barely stand to watch.’ But his eyes remained glued to Lilly’s bucking body, her gaping hole. He had never seen a woman for this long from this angle, in this proximity. His own flesh was so stiff it ached and he surreptitiously attempted to rub himself through the coarse fabric of his trousers. The memory of Lilly’s slick, tight passage around his steel-like shaft maddened him and seeing her there, in front of him, his friend’s fingers working her hard as she writhed and cried out was more than he could bear.

In a flash he had shoved his friend aside and had his trousers around his knees.

‘No, Ewan! You mustn’t! Paroxysm must be brought about only by massage. Physical male contact of this nature will only serve to progress the madness further!’

Phillip’s protests were but background noise to Ewan. He no more could have stopped himself from sliding into Lilly than he could have stopped a train barreling down a track. He slammed himself in to his hilt and began sawing in and out. Just as before, Lilly’s tight sheath contracted around him and almost immediately began to spasm. She screamed and he pulled her to him almost violently. As at in the backroom of the mill, the spasms seemed to milk Ewan’s own orgasm from him, and he grunted loudly as his seed pumped out in long bursts into his wife’s body.