Sinful Sunday: The comforts of being good

Sometimes a good girl needs a spanking. She just does. Her skin and her soul crave it. Not too hard, not too light. Just sensual. With lots of appreciation of her beauty. 

And sometimes a good girl gets what she needs.

 

Note:

The castle again. A couple of weeks ago I published an “aftermath” picture, showing my girl sleeping afterwards. But this was taken during the enwarmening process itself.  

Writing and money

I’m a reasonably good writer working hard on becoming better. Sometimes I’m sexy, sometimes I’m funny, and sometimes I get the human stuff about thoughts and emotions right. And when I read stuff I wrote, say five years ago, I usually think it’s good, but I can also see ways in which it could be a bit better. That means I’m getting better.

I have a non-fiction book on the historical, psychological and political issues raised by bdsm’s existence, and by the forming of a bdsm community right now.

I also have a bdsm novel, which is a literary novel with rom-com elements, set in the real world. That novel’s currently with beta readers. Once I get their feedback, and adapt and amend where necessary, those two books are off to agents and publishers, so they’d better watch out.   

When I said, “set in the real world”, I mean I don’t do vampires, werewolves or secret islands or dungeons, and, using the words “real world” in a different sense, I don’t do billionaires either. 

I’m currently working on a second novel, which is harder edged, though the bdsm incidents take place between adults who know what they’re doing and are doing it because they want to. The non-consensual aspect is where ordinary people get hammered by violence, racism and corruption. I’m working hard on that novel now, and I expect to have it finished by October. 

Butterflies are free. Unfortunately, good as butterflies are, they’re not the best things in life. If given money, I promise not to blow it on butterflies or cocaine.

With this blog, I guarantee to have four posts a week. Though I’m counting this post as one of them, which is cheating a little. My blog posts are mostly true stories of bdsm life, though the disgraceful long story that continues every Wednesday is most definitely not true.

Truth or fiction, my goal is to have it real, sexy, and funny, as life can be. When you find yourself doing life right.

I’m serious and passionate about some issues, but I think writers are entertainers first, and moralists and philosophers second, if at all. That’s one of the things I believe passionately

On this blog I’ve been writing a long story with the comically click-baity title, Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive, and that has many more episodes to go. However, I’m taking a break from it at the moment, because writing it takes a lot of mental focus. Right now I’m putting everything I have of that capacity into the novel I’m writing.

Fortunately, there are two stories I’ve been meaning to tell for a long time, which aren’t quite as demanding, and should be shorter. The first of those starts on Monday. Tune in! I think you’ll like it.  

 

Help me build one of these!

The reason I’m writing this is that I’m setting up a Hat-Tip Jar. I need money, to pay for the running of this blog, and to get to Eroticon in London in 2018. 

I don’t think I’ll put any content behind a pay-wall. I don’t want to run ads. But if you like what I’m writing, then please, chuck us some money. 

This hat-tip jar will exist soon. I’m a techno-klutz, and right now it’s late at night. But it’ll be here in the morning! 

Wicked Wednesday: Juniper’s Adventures 36

This is episode 13 of the series that evolved and expanded to become that very erotic and engrossing ebook, Jennifer’s Pleats and Pleas 3: Trying to be a Good Girl.

In this episode, Jennifer bends over Will’s desk to have her poor, sore bottom and thighs massaged. She finds herself feeling better, and then suddenly utterly, beautifully better, and makes a long, sweet, pleasured moan. Will thinks it may be the most beautiful sound he ever heard. 

I’ve had to remove the actual text, because this excellent and very sexy book has been published and is being submitted for sale at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple Books, 24symbols, Angus and Robinson, tolino, Rakuten Kobo and Vivlio.

I’ll give you a link to a page that will take you to your favoured on-line bookseller, or allow you to choose one, very soon.

Bdsm guilt, and doing good works

Being into bdsm means knowing that you’re different from most of the people around you. I learned that early. I was with my older brothers and sisters – who didn’t want a 4-year old’s company, but my parents hadn’t given them any choice – and they went to an abandoned forest workers’ hut, that happened to be in the neighbourhood.

For generations, children and adolescents had been going there to play sex games.

Bottles got spun and boys kissed girls, girls cuddled boys, and the penalty for losing a round of any game they played was taking off an item of clothing. And so on.

Anyway, I was much younger so I didn’t take part. I mostly climbed up the shelves on the wall, and found a place where I could look down if I wanted to. A lot of the time I just day-dreamed. But one day they played a game of “school”, where, at the end of each round, someone got spanked. A girl called Donna getting spanked caught my attention, very strongly.

With my little four-year-old hard-on. 

That’s not “why” I’m into bdsm, of course. I was already into bdsm before I entered that shed; I just didn’t know about it. Rather, it was the first time I realised that this was something I was into. It was going to be important to me. And it wasn’t important, it seemed, to anyone else who’d been in that shed. 

But it didn’t take very long to find out some other things. The first is that this is a minority sexuality. My friends weren’t interested. It was just me.

The second thing I learned was even less welcome: people who had this sexual interest weren’t admired and respected, to put it mildly. 

People like me were the villains in movies and TV shows. We were evil. We were sick. I was a priggish little bastard when I was a kid, so I wasn’t happy about being evil. I wanted a moral pass-mark, at least.  

So I devoted most of my life to Good Works. My first job was as a psychiatric nurse. Then I did a social work degree. I helped set up the first domestic violence women’s refuge in my part of the world. I set up the first union for unemployed people that’d existed, in my part of the world, since the 1930s. I helped set up Shelter in my part of the world.

I campaigned for, and won, changes to landlord-tenant laws that meant landlords couldn’t just go round to tenants and throw them out of the property and change the locks any more.

I went on anti-racism events and got clubbed by cops. Though ridiculously straight, I’d put on my pink triangle and go on gay rights marches and vigils. You get the picture. 

One thing that strikes me, looking back on this period, is that I hardly ever hung round with political people when I wasn’t doing politics. I didn’t actually like them very much.

I didn’t like their jockeying for power, and I didn’t want power for myself. The social changes I worked for all had the effect of sharing out power, not concentrating it. Especially not into my hands.

(The people I hung round with were more drug-oriented artist types. Much more fun, and much sexier.)

You can’t get more evil than Frank Thring. The thing simply can’t be done.

My point is that I wouldn’t have done all this, I don’t think, if I hadn’t felt guilty about being into bdsm. I wanted to be a good person. You know, not a saint, but at least not as floridly evil as a James Bond villain. Or Frank Thring.

They were all good causes, and I’m still proud of the work I did. But in part it was compensation.

It meant that in the self-critical darkness of the night I could argue to myself that I couldn’t be all bad. I might be one sick fuck, but at least I was a useful one.

Has anyone else had their life course shaped in this way, by social attitudes to bdsm?

Held prisoner in an SS Castle!

She was a prisoner in an SS castle!

But, brave lass, she didn’t tell the evil, gloating von Mortimer anything. Course, it’s easier when SS stands for Sinful Sunday.

Note

The text is kinda schlocky, I know. Though the model is anything but schlocky. It’s taken in the castle, of course. The light is just beautiful, as always. As is she.  

Click on the lips to see other Sinful Sunday entries!

 

Cunt as “a nasty word for a nasty thing”: a thought

The Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, by Captain Francis Grose.

In 1785 Captain Francis Grose published the first edition of his “Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue”. The book’s a useful collection of old, outdated slang. Gross claims he got most of the words by hanging out with soldiers.

The Dictionary is best remembered these days for Grose’s listing of “Cunt” and his definition: “a nasty word for a nasty thing”. 

That looks horrifically misogynist, and it’s always quoted as an example of Grose’s, or more generally of male, misogyny.

 

I’ve started to wonder, though. The first issue, for me, is that the Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue doesn’t really have anything else that comes close to the level of fear and hate of women, or at least their genitals, that definition seems to demonstrate. And it gives more space to thieves’ cant (language used by criminals) than to sexual words, So could Grose have been saying something else?

Nasty as she wants it to be.
(Drawing: Betty Dodson)

We know the word “nasty” has a strand of sexual meanings. It’s everywhere in rap. “Do the nasty”, meaning, “have sexual intercourse”, anyone? But “nasty” has sexual meanings in blues, too. Which takes it back to the 20th century, and maybe the 19th, in US black culture.

But it’s older than that. The sexual use of “nasty” may have re-entered non-black English from its preservation among black culture. It’s not uncommon for words to survive in one cultural group while they disappear elsewhere.

So we go back in time looking for early uses, and we don’t find much, because sexual words seldom made it into print, before the 19th century.

But it turns out that “nasty” meant “lewd” from the 17th century.

Francis Grose: Geddit? Just kidding, folks!

“Lewd” means something like “overtly sexy”, with a connotation of “slightly more overtly sexual than the speaker is comfortable with.” But the sexual meaning is clear. “Lewd” is always a compliment, in my book. 

So, remembering that this meaning of “nasty” was in use from the 1600’s, and that Grose’s Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue was published in 1785, it’s possible to see his definition in another way. 

Was Grose making a sort of joke? “Cunt:  a sexy name for a sexy thing”?

If so, he was Winding Up The Straights. And We Fell For It.  

Wicked Wednesday: Juniper’s Adventures 35

This is episode 12 of the series that evolved and expanded to become that very erotic and engrossing ebook, Jennifer’s Pleats and Pleas 3: Trying to be a Good Girl.

In this episode, Jennifer feels the slipper on her bare bottom and upper thighs for the first time. She finds it a strong sensation indeed. Eventually, after her first dozen, she begs to be allowed to take the remaining eighteen strokes the next day. 

Afterwards, standing crying into his shoulder – since she was in no condition to sit down – she is desperate for comfort and consolation. 

I’ve had to remove the actual text, because this excellent and very sexy book has been published and is being submitted for sale at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple Books, 24symbols, Angus and Robinson, tolino, Rakuten Kobo and Vivlio.

I’ll give you a link to a page that will take you to your favoured on-line bookseller, or allow you to choose one, very soon.

E[lust] 96: What’s 69 backwards?

Elust 96

The other livvy header image Elust
Photo courtesy of The Other Livvy

Welcome to Elust 96

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #96 Start with the rules, come back August 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Loop

Yellow Cab Service

Pammy Corrigan Gets Her Wish

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Luring Him Back

Date Night

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

International Chocolate Day 2017 (it was fucking brill)

Erotic Fiction

Good Example – Part II
The Legend of Lyonesse
Broken to Be ~ Part 6
Star Talker: Part 1: Attack
Sex Magick

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

What gets me going
Top Ten Tips For Finding A Dominant Woman

Erotic Non-Fiction

BIG BOYS DON’T – Breaking down
Wank Bank Deposits
To All The Girls I’ve Loved Before – Thankyou
Erotic Transference. Falling For My Therapist
All Dressed Up And Nowhere To Go

Body Talk and Sexual Health

A change would do you good…
Well in Hand

Events

A Memory of Master Aryn

Poetry

-04.07.17_20:26-

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Good news for elderly: Sex robots in nursing
Reasons not to work for News Corpse

Thoughts &Advice on Sex & Relationships

Elegance


Elust 88

Sinful Sunday: A moment’s peace

There’s a moment of peace after her Master puts the cane down, and tells her that it’s over and she’s been a good, brave girl. 

Her mind is at peace. She was caned for her Master’s pleasure, and hers. There was nothing for her to forgive herself for, nothing for him to forgive. He’d just woken up needing her submission, urgently, and he’d cuffed her to their bed, and reached for the cane.

His strokes hurt as they fell on her, of course. But how quickly those individual flashes of pain turn to warmth, to a kind of sensual glow, and then to sexual longing. She watched him as he raised the cane. His cock lifted with that movement: caning her turned him on. 

He takes photos for her to admire later, and then puts on a condom. And he leaves her cuffed, wrists and ankles spread for him, while he poises his body above hers, ready to take her. And then that moment of peace is over. 

Click on the lips to see other Sinful Sunday entries!

Novel excerpt: Out of the closet 3

Bad advice, as always from these things. I’m here to tell you: you don’t need to have sex in a closet.

This is an extract from a novel that was then unpublished. Now it’s publishing, and I have to remove free content from my site. 

 

In this episode from the novel, the pros and cons on having sex in the broom closet, during an art exhibition, are thoroughly explored.