Christmas greetings! Here’s an old-fashioned and rather cheesy Christmas spanking still from some long-forgotten movie. Because we’re in a traditional mood here at Jerusalem Mortimer: Between the Lines.
My Christmas drink is margaritas. Salty things. Taste like going down on Mrs Lot.
Let’s get back to the Gang Girl story. The story so far is that I interviewed Charmayanne, the younger half-sister of a woman I knew, for a story I was writing on gang violence. Charmayanne had spent a year with a neo-Nazi gang. She’d been in a bad state when she joined, and her real aim had been to hurt her mother, which she did.
But when her brain and conscience came back on line she’ got out. She was back staying with her mother until she got a job and a new place to live and generally sorted herself out.
We talked at the kitchen table, but although it started as a magazine interview we soon found ourselves talking about personal stuff that I couldn’t use in the story. I realised that I liked her, because even though some of the things she told me about were horrible, she knew she’d fucked up. She was honest about what she’d done and why, and she was brave, smart and funny.
And then, over a cup of tea we moved from liking each other to wanting to fuck.
And while we were starting to get sexual, I discovered that Charmayanne rather liked being told what to do. And then, because I pushed a little, that she rather liked being smacked if she didn’t obey quickly enough. And Charmayanne made her own, reciprocal discoveries about me. So we knew not only that we were about to fuck, but the kind of sex that we were going to have.
That process of recognising each other, and deciding to proceed, took quite a while, it seemed. Although in another sense it all happened very quickly.
I’d left off the story at the point where Charmayanne was glowing rather beautifully from having had her breasts smacked with a ruler, and her bottom smacked and her pussy stroked with my hand. It was time for her to lead the way to her bedroom. She held her clothes in a bundle, and was biting on an old razor strop that her mother had bought (as an antique, not for sexual purposes). I smacked her bottom, to set her walking.
I collected my laptop from the table. It was supposed to record a story on gangs, and had instead recorded something much more interesting. It shouldn’t be left lying around. And I followed Charmayanne, watching her.
She was a strong girl, in a feminine way. Her bottom would normally glow palely in contrast to tanned skin, but at this moment she was pinkly splotched from my hand.
I watched the crease and uncrease of buttock and thigh, left, then right, as she walked. I could watch that all day.
What happens next is told in the ebook Governing the Gang Girl 2: Stairwell to Heaven.
My knots were nowhere near as neat and tidy as that, I’m afraid.
Some time ago I mentioned that I’d never used an anal hook.
I’d thought it was interesting that no-one had heard of them until quite recently, which means it might be one of the most recently invented sex toys.
They seemed kind of unnecessary, in the sense that people have done bdsm with each other for centuries, and in all that time no-one had ever felt that there was something missing, and that missing item was the anal hook.
Still, they seemed a good way of keeping a submissive in position, held absolutely ruthlessly with her ass presented.
Now I’ve used one. This post is just a foreshadowing, because I’m not up to writing much at the moment, but I’ll write a consumer’s report shortly.
Just interrupting the Raylene story, now that we’re finally getting out of the kitchen, for some personal notes.
I’ve just bought a lot of champagne and white wine for Christmas, which is largely, damn near entirely, a close family occasion. Usually I like to host as many people as I can, people who aren’t doing family Christmases, but the family outvoted me on that one. So there it is.
Christ on a bike
As for me, I spent three days sleeping round the clock, hardly getting out of bed, after finding that I didn’t have cancer. Then I got flu and something horrible and gastric (you don’t wanna know about it).
Finally I got up, weak as a kitten.
Usually I run down to the bottom of the nearby waterfall and back, but all I’ve been able to manage is a walk down my own property and then back to the house. Exhausted.
So that, I think, is my body telling me enough is enough. It’s been a year of death and separation and loss, and various systems want me to take it easy for a while. So I’ll be sensible for a change.
I’m basically stoical, cheerful and optimistic, and I intend to stay that way. But I’m not feeling any sort of Christmas spirit – no jollity, and I have to remember that I love people – not all the people, obviously. Still, I’m going to get back to normal.
On the day, since my father isn’t able to do it, I’m going to be a gurning fool, possibly in a white cottonwool beard, shouting ho ho ho, pressing champagne on people, and announcing and doling out the presents one by one with a lot of shouting. A sort of meld of my father and Brian Blessed.
This excellent and very sexy book is aiming to be on sale through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple Books, 24symbols, and tolino. It is already being sold through Rakuten Kobo, Angus and Robinson, and Vivlio. To purchase through your favoured seller, go here.
So the free version on my site is no longer available. Here’s a quick guide to what it’s about.
Charmayanne and Jack meet for the first time in her kitchen. They find that the heat between them builds and builds, and their sexual games become steadily more complex and exciting…
Troubled young Charmayanne Else is a former member of a violent gang, though she got out when her conscience and her commonsense woke up again.
She agrees to be interviewed about her experiences by journalist Jack Molay. But the interview becomes a mutual seduction when they discover that though they have little in common, they’re attracted to each other.
And soon after that, they realise that Jack is a Dom, and Charmayanne is submissive.
She is aware that she has done some very bad things, and she has some atoning to do. And only after she has fully paid, with Jack’s willing help, can she begin the process of forgiving herself.
With the help of a ruler and an old razor strop from her mother’s farm, and Jack’s guiding hand, that atonement begins…
“This is beautifully written erotica, incredibly hot, about people who feel like real, three-dimensional people. Some bdsm events are harsh, but the atmosphere is always loving. JJ Mortimer turns human details and erotic details into pure steamy sexiness. Reading it is like being there, on a wonderful sensual ride!”
Isadora D Hawkins, reviewer.
This excellent and very sexy book is aiming to be on sale through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple Books, 24symbols, and tolino. It is already being sold through Rakuten Kobo, Angus and Robinson, and Vivlio. To purchase through your favoured seller, go here.
So the free version on my site is no longer available. Here’s a quick guide to what it’s about.
Charmayanne and Jack meet for the first time in her kitchen. They find that the heat between them builds and builds, and their sexual games become steadily more complex and exciting…
Troubled young Charmayanne Else is a former member of a violent gang, though she got out when her conscience and her commonsense woke up again.
She agrees to be interviewed about her experiences by journalist Jack Molay. But the interview becomes a mutual seduction when they discover that though they have little in common, they’re attracted to each other. And soon after that, they realise that Jack is a Dom, and Charmayanne is submissive.
She is aware that she has done some very bad things, and she has some atoning to do. And only after she has fully paid, with Jack’s willing help, can she begin the process of forgiving herself.
With the help of a ruler and an old razor strop from her mother’s farm, and Jack’s guiding hand, that atonement begins…
And here’s a sample:
From: Governing the Gang Girl 1: The Heat in the Kitchen
Charmayanne’s gesture was like a captured soldier in an old war film. She held her arms straight up, palms upwards. A show of surrender, that was partly comic, but also real.
Charmayanne was being obedient. Not by accident. Not ambiguously. This time she looked at me. Her belly showed palely, as the jersey’s hem was lifted by her arms. I still had my fingers wetly, warmly held inside her. Her face was expressionless, carefully so.
In a sense rather wider than I’d asked, she’d surrendered. I wondered if she’d bitten me, seconds before her surrender, so that I’d punish her for it.
Maybe she’d been angry with me for making her want to surrender. But her motives didn’t matter anymore. Charmayanne waited, arms up.
That moment of give, of decided submission, is the best thing I know. It’s like the moving, clashing and realignment of tectonic plates. It seems to happen very slowly, so you have time to watch every expression, and every hesitation or tremor or decision in the submissive’s voice. And then it moves, and that moment shakes the earth. The world is never the same again.
Charmayanne had given me her submission, and therefore herself, without any more protest. Except for biting my neck and calling me a bastard, which is quite a lot of protest, really. Still, the atmosphere in that kitchen had changed. Grandly and perhaps irrevocably.
Charmayanne stood, jeans and panties halfway down her thighs and her arms held up in a gesture that meant surrender. It also meant I should remove her jersey, which was all she was wearing above the waist. Actually it was all she was wearing above her mid-thighs, where her jeans and panties had gathered, abandoned.
I looked at her and nodded interrogatively, eyebrows raised. “You’re sure?”
It was a last chance to back out. Charmayanne nodded back, eyes down.
So that sealed it.
“This is beautifully written erotica, incredibly hot, about people who feel like real, three-dimensional people. Some bdsm events are harsh, but the atmosphere is always loving. JJ Mortimer turns human details and erotic details into pure steamy sexiness. Reading it is like being there, on a wonderful sensual ride!”
Isadora D Hawkins, reviewer.
Photo courtesy of SassyCat
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 #66? Start with the rules, come back January 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
For our UK readers, we would like to make a special request that you take a moment and fill out this petition to repeal the new censorship laws.
“Does this look sexual to you?”
Submission Can Be Hard
You can have a secret sex blog and be ethical
Online porn: the canary in the coalmine
The Pendulum: Why Americans Should Care that British Porn is Fucked
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
Blades
Dark Desires
This Is How You Use Her
“Office Santa”—A Free Story for the Holidays!
Feral
Justin’s Rope
Santa Sutra & the Rebellious Rein-Girl
Dirty
I Want You, My Way
Caught In The Act
The Smile
Feminist Rape
The Sex I Like
Erased
Post-Revolution Kink: What kinds of kink?
Why MakeLoveNotPorn Has It Wrong
Slave Olive’s Ongoing Chastity Experience
Coast to Coast Traveling Panties.
My Headshaving – During
Tell me…..(want versus need)
flip fucking a punk boy but good
To Avoid Street Harassment, Dress Slutty!
Touch
“You’re not a Domme, you’re a hooker”
We Don’t Do That: On Vulnerability
He suspects something’s up…
Aust Sex Survey: Triumph, Trouble & Tragedy
Erections, Erections, Erections
Am I queer enough for you?
Quandary – A Lusty Limerick
Used
Tickling, consent violations, and violence
Sniffy
A Few Things I Wish I’d Known About Sex, Dati
This excellent and very sexy book is aiming to be on sale through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple Books, 24symbols, and tolino. It is already being sold through Rakuten Kobo, Angus and Robinson, and Vivlio. To purchase through your favoured seller, go here.
So the free version on my site is no longer available. Here’s a quick guide to what it’s about.
Charmayanne and Jack meet for the first time in her kitchen. They find that the heat between them builds and builds, and their sexual games become steadily more complex and exciting…
Troubled young Charmayanne Else is a former member of a violent gang, though she got out when her conscience and her commonsense woke up again.
She agrees to be interviewed about her experiences by journalist Jack Molay.
But the interview becomes a mutual seduction when they discover that though they have little in common, they’re attracted to each other. And soon after that, they realise that Jack is a Dom, and Charmayanne is submissive.
She is aware that she has done some very bad things, and she has some atoning to do.
And only after she has fully paid, with Jack’s willing help, can she begin the process of forgiving herself.
With the help of a ruler and an old razor strop from her mother’s farm, and Jack’s guiding hand, that atonement begins…
And here’s a sample:
From: Governing the Gang Girl 1: The Heat in the Kitchen
Charmayanne’s gesture was like a captured soldier in an old war film. She held her arms straight up, palms upwards. A show of surrender, that was partly comic, but also real.
Charmayanne was being obedient. Not by accident. Not ambiguously. This time she looked at me. Her belly showed palely, as the jersey’s hem was lifted by her arms. I still had my fingers wetly, warmly held inside her. Her face was expressionless, carefully so.
In a sense rather wider than I’d asked, she’d surrendered. I wondered if she’d bitten me, seconds before her surrender, so that I’d punish her for it. Maybe she’d been angry with me for making her want to surrender. But her motives didn’t matter anymore. Charmayanne waited, arms up.
That moment of give, of decided submission, is the best thing I know. It’s like the moving, clashing and realignment of tectonic plates. It seems to happen very slowly, so you have time to watch every expression, and every hesitation or tremor or decision in the submissive’s voice. And then it moves, and that moment shakes the earth. The world is never the same again.
Charmayanne had given me her submission, and therefore herself, without any more protest. Except for biting my neck and calling me a bastard, which is quite a lot of protest, really. Still, the atmosphere in that kitchen had changed. Grandly and perhaps irrevocably.
Charmayanne stood, jeans and panties halfway down her thighs and her arms held up in a gesture that meant surrender. It also meant I should remove her jersey, which was all she was wearing above the waist. Actually it was all she was wearing above her mid-thighs, where her jeans and panties had gathered, abandoned.
I looked at her and nodded interrogatively, eyebrows raised. “You’re sure?”
It was a last chance to back out. Charmayanne nodded back, eyes down.
So that sealed it.
“This is beautifully written erotica, incredibly hot, about people who feel like real, three-dimensional people. Some bdsm events are harsh, but the atmosphere is always loving. JJ Mortimer turns human details and erotic details into pure steamy sexiness. Reading it is like being there, on a wonderful sensual ride!”
Isadora D Hawkins, reviewer.
This excellent and very sexy book is aiming to be on sale through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple Books, 24symbols, and tolino. It is already being sold through Rakuten Kobo, Angus and Robinson, and Vivlio. To purchase through your favoured seller, go here.
So the free version on my site is no longer available. Here’s a quick guide to what it’s about.
Charmayanne and Jack meet for the first time in her kitchen. They find that the heat between them builds and builds, and their sexual games become steadily more complex and exciting…
Troubled young Charmayanne Else is a former member of a violent gang, though she got out when her conscience and her commonsense woke up again.
She agrees to be interviewed about her experiences by journalist Jack Molay. But the interview becomes a mutual seduction when they discover that though they have little in common, they’re attracted to each other. And soon after that, they realise that Jack is a Dom, and Charmayanne is submissive.
She is aware that she has done some very bad things, and she has some atoning to do. And only after she has fully paid, with Jack’s willing help, can she begin the process of forgiving herself.
With the help of a ruler and an old razor strop from her mother’s farm, and Jack’s guiding hand, that atonement begins…
And here’s a sample:
From: Governing the Gang Girl 1: The Heat in the Kitchen
Charmayanne’s gesture was like a captured soldier in an old war film. She held her arms straight up, palms upwards. A show of surrender, that was partly comic, but also real.
Charmayanne was being obedient. Not by accident. Not ambiguously. This time she looked at me. Her belly showed palely, as the jersey’s hem was lifted by her arms. I still had my fingers wetly, warmly held inside her. Her face was expressionless, carefully so.
In a sense rather wider than I’d asked, she’d surrendered. I wondered if she’d bitten me, seconds before her surrender, so that I’d punish her for it.
Maybe she’d been angry with me for making her want to surrender. But her motives didn’t matter anymore. Charmayanne waited, arms up.
That moment of give, of decided submission, is the best thing I know. It’s like the moving, clashing and realignment of tectonic plates. It seems to happen very slowly, so you have time to watch every expression, and every hesitation or tremor or decision in the submissive’s voice. And then it moves, and that moment shakes the earth. The world is never the same again.
Charmayanne had given me her submission, and therefore herself, without any more protest. Except for biting my neck and calling me a bastard, which is quite a lot of protest, really. Still, the atmosphere in that kitchen had changed. Grandly and perhaps irrevocably.
Charmayanne stood, jeans and panties halfway down her thighs and her arms held up in a gesture that meant surrender. It also meant I should remove her jersey, which was all she was wearing above the waist. Actually it was all she was wearing above her mid-thighs, where her jeans and panties had gathered, abandoned.
I looked at her and nodded interrogatively, eyebrows raised. “You’re sure?”
It was a last chance to back out. Charmayanne nodded back, eyes down.
So that sealed it.
“This is beautifully written erotica, incredibly hot, about people who feel like real, three-dimensional people. Some bdsm events are harsh, but the atmosphere is always loving. JJ Mortimer turns human details and erotic details into pure steamy sexiness. Reading it is like being there, on a wonderful sensual ride!”
Isadora D Hawkins, reviewer.
I’ve given away the end of the story in the title, there. All my cancer tests came back, and I failed them all. Every one. Negative every time, in every sample in every kind of tissue and body fluid, and in every scan, by every means, of my firm proud slightly puffy body.
Which leaves a few doctors wondering why. It means I’m still “interesting”, medically, when I’d rather be boring.
But don’t worry, this blog isn’t going to tell you any more about the brief, bloody rebellion of my innards. My body put it down and re-established order. Any more trouble-making and there’ll be shootings.
(That’s probably how Kurt Cobain spent his last minute: auto-surgery. “Awww, my stomach hurts. And I got a headache. I’ll git that fucka!” BLAMM!)
I’ve been tested intensively enough that I know that whatever it was, my body had the reserves to deal with it thoroughly, leaving no trace of the original problem or signs of future problems. Freak event. Damn freaks.
Which means no surgeries, no chemo, no loss of my hair, my beautiful hair, and no worries about whether they got the lot, and all that sort of nightmare. Just life, which goes on.
The funny thing is that it feels a bit flat at the moment. I should be out champagning and dancing, but what I’ve mostly done since getting the news is sleep. I’ll probably feel more joyous in a day or two, when I’ve caught up and relaxed again.