The State of your Author

Posted on February 24, 2018 by jaime

I wrote a novel about Frank Harris, Oscar Wilde, Lewis Carroll and the young Aleister Crowley about four years ago. It had too many characters and the plot was far too complicated. Also the strongest sequence came in the middle. It should either be the beginning or the end.

It’s called Harris’s Adventures Underground, after the original title of Alice in Wonderland. Anyway, there were major structural issues, and there was a problem with Frank Harris’s voice, as the narrator.

Frank Harris is, in sense, the opposite of Harry Flashman, George MacDonald Frazer’s anti-hero. Flashman was a coward, and various other sorts of bad man, but he was utterly honest and reliable in his “Flashman” memoirs.

Harris was a brave man, and mostly decent, but he could never resist improving any story he was involved in. As a result, you can never quite believe that what he writes is what really happened.

Harris wrote a lot, though few people have read anything more than his autobiography, My Life and Loves. But his style is very unfashionable now, and it was hard to write in his voice while still being readable and immediate.

I put it aside to work on other things. Now I’ve finished those other things, and I’m back to it.

It needs a lot of editing, and some new scenes. And I think I have a solution to the “voice” problem, though I’ll find out as I write it. But I think there’s something very strong there. So that’s my new project.

A side-effect is that until it’s done, my blog and my writing will have no cross-over. I think I’ll find that strange. What, no bdsm? What, writing in someone else’s voice?

But I’ll keep writing this blog at the same rate as now. I may do more shorter stories, since I’ve nearly got enough for a volume of bdsm-related, but also person-related, short stories. With interlocking characters. Maybe it’s the bdsm equivalent of “Slaves of New York”. Or some such.

And some things, like the Maddie saga, will go on forever, probably, unless I think of an ending.

(“Well,” gasped Maddie on her deathbed, “getting run over was unexpected, but it’s all been tremendous fun.”)

For now, I have three books to sell. Two novels and a non-fiction book on bdsm.

I’ve recently finished proof-reading them, and I found that it’s nice when you read something you wrote, and it’s well polished, and it feels real. The people act and speak credibly, each according to their own motivations , and they’re neither better nor worse than real people. Also, all three books are often sexy, sometimes sad and often funny. I feel good about them: they are good enough to be proud of.

On the other hand, I know that I’m shit at selling myself, commercially speaking, and… Well, frankly, the marketing issue scares the hell out of me.

I’m coming to Eroticon in London in March of this year, and I’m looking forward to meeting a lot of lovely people. I also hope I can get published and make a non-insulting amount of money out of that visit and those meetings that may arise from it.

I don’t write abou

Wicked Wednesday: A servant of two…

Posted on February 22, 2018 by jaime

This is a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.

Masturbation Monday: Swinging 3

Posted on February 20, 2018 by jaime

Note

This story starts here.

But we start Episode 3 as Stephanie and I are amusing ourselves in a children’s playground, after midnight. I ordered her to climb up to the top of the slide, ahead if me. She obeyed.

Swinging 3

Stephanie reached the fourth step from the top of the slide. Her ass was level with the slide. I stood on the ground, still gazing up at her thighs, admiring the softly muscled crease of her buttocks and thighs. I said, “Stop. That’s just right.”

She looked down at me while I climbed up to join her. I stood on the fifth step from the top, so my cock, not quite contained by my underpants, was more or less level with her ass. I pressed my body against hers. This was the most intimately we’d touched, so far. My cock pressed, admiring, desiring, against her ass, and knew it was comfortable there. Her ass was the place for my cock to be. Stephanie pressed back against me, not only to keep warm.

I put my arms around her bare back, and held her breasts in my hands. Her nipples were hard with cold and arousal, rubber bullets between my thumbs and forefingers.

Stephanie turned, “Are we going to slide down together?”

She was thinking, I guessed, of my promise that her arse wouldn’t get cold on the metal of the slide. “Probably. You can sit on me.”

She smiled. “You can be in charge of keeping my arse warm. You spank Maires, don’t you?”

“Oh?” I hadn’t been aware I was in gossip quite that detailed. On the other hand, Maires was not a discrete kind of girl. “Well, yes. When she wants me to.”

Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “Oh. That’s all her, is it?”

“No, sorry. I just meant, I don’t do anything she doesn’t want. I wouldn’t do anything that you don’t want. Just being clear. But of course that’s not just just what she wants: I like spanking her. It’s, um, hot. Great ass, that Maires. Don’t you think?”

She looked away for a second. “Well, I’m not really into girls. But yes, she has a nice bottom. If you liked spanking girls, I can see that Maires would…” She looked back at me. She was blushing slightly. “Ah, anyway, yes, she’s got a nice arse. Fantastic legs. And I’m told she’s good at cunnilingus. By her boyfriend, no less.”

She was winding me up. I swung my body round to the side of the steps so we could press together and kiss properly. Stephanie nodded, and pressed into me, hard nipples against my shirt. I held onto the metal bar at the top of the slide with my left hand so I could put my right hand on her bottom. Stephanie sighed.

I patted her pretty little bottom, so lightly. I heard a chuckle from her, so I smacked her little harder. She kissed my neck. I smacked her again, a little harder still. I wondered if there was a point where she’d complain, but I didn’t want to find out. So I left my hand on her ass, kneading and fondling.

I focussed on the kiss. We opened our mouths. Her tongue touched my teeth. She put her arms round me, holding on to me and not the slide. She was depending on me. Literally. We kissed, changing the angle and exploring. My cock was pretty much entirely free of my underpants. It was, um, engorged. It was not cold.

Stephanie eventually opened her eyes again. “Shall we slide?”

“Hang on. No, I mean, hang on to the slide.” When she’d straightened and gripped the rails again, I swung my body back behind her. She waited. “Now, bend over.”

“What?”

“I promised you your ass wouldn’t get cold. I never made any promise about your tits. Bend over now. So your upper body’s on the chute. It’ll be cold, but it won’t matter.”

“You’re crazy, if you think–”

“Bend over, little Stephanie.” There was a pause. Stephanie considered various things. Which was stronger: cold, or fun and lust? Twenty seconds passed before I could say, “Good girl.”

“Hmmph!” But she said that with her head pressed against cold metal, her bottom the highest part of her body.

I climbed up one more step, and let her feel my cock slide between her upper thighs. She said, “Oh, jesus.” We stayed together like that, moving very slowly and very slightly together, savouring every micro-movement.

But eventually I drew back, and reached under her to undo the top button of her shorts. And I tugged. Down.

Nother note

The next episode is here.

Sinful Sunday: The book look

Posted on February 17, 2018 by jaime

Looking for a book. There’s a book up there somewhere, on aftercare for the spanked bottom.

But there’s something about girls and books, isn’t there? The combination is just so hot.

E{lust}

Posted on February 17, 2018 by jaime

Elust 103

Photo courtesy of Tits and Test Tubes

Welcome to Elust 103–

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 #104 Start with the rules, come back March 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Friend and The Acquaintance

The dress rehearsal

Lake Malawi

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie kisses Lucy!

Posted on February 14, 2018 by jaime

Masturbation Monday: Swinging 2

Posted on February 13, 2018 by jaime

Note

This is the second part of a Masturbation Monday story about seduction in a children’s playground, after midnight. Episode 1 is here.

Swinging 2

When you’re pushing a girl on a swing, and she’s wearing only a little pair of shorts and a pair of sandals, it can be hard to decide where to put your hands. So for the first few pushes, I pushed Stephanie with my hands just under her shoulders, so she could fly to the furthest extent the arc allowed. it was effective, and chaste.

But chasteness wasn’t the goal, so the fourth time she came back I stood a little further so I could catch her suspended about half way up the backswing, and bite her neck and kiss her while she laughed. Then I’d send her flying again. After that, I caught her by the shorts, and pushed her by her perfect arse.

And then, finally, I wasn’t so much pushing her at all. I just smacked her ass each time it flew back into my grasp. She was beautiful, flying, long straight blonde hair streaming, small breasts cold and tight; she was a valkyrie. Eventually she let the swing rest, with her feet touching the ground and her head back and turned so we could kiss properly. Her nipples were stiff, red and hard in excitement and the cold.

Eventually we broke, and I helped Stephanie out of the swing. She said, “Slide! Slide!”

So I stood in front of her, holding her facing me, close. I put my hand inside her shorts and squeezed bare skin. Stephanie sighed. She slipped her hands down the back of my underpants, and enjoyed my penile reaction to that, body tight to to body.

Eventually I remembered speech, and said, “Slide. Sure. You go first.”

“You just want to watch me climb the ladder.”

“I do. I will.”

“It’ll be so cold. The slide metal, under my ass.”

“Actually, it won’t. I promise.”

“You’re going to do magic?”

I smiled, like I hoped a mage might smile, and smacked her ass to keep it warm. And show my appreciation. Then we kissed some more because the night really was cold around us, and yet we were so warm for each other, a little sexual micro-climate. And I smacked her perfectly rounded, perfectly pretty bottom again, and walked her to the ladder leading up to the slide.

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. This felt too good, and too promising. “Climb, Stephanie.”

“Oh. So you’re giving me orders now?”

“But good orders. Only the good ones. Climb.”

Stephanie put one foot one of the lowest step of the ladder. She cocked her hip, and waggled her arse. “Like this?”

“Oh my god, Stephanie. Fuck.” I kissed her shoulder. “I’d say that would be the exact way. Climb!”

Stephanie climbed. I watched her, adoring and wanting. Hard.

Sinful Sunday: Emotion and tranquillity

Posted on February 10, 2018 by jaime

Wordsworth once said that poetry is emotion reflected on, during tranquillity. So this is poetry: Everything was movement and heat, barely controlled and pleasurable chaos, just minutes before.

Now, there’s a long moment of peace. She is still, and her mind is still. Her body is warm, and her mind is cool. No thoughts, just body-memories.

Tranquility.

Serving and servicing 1

Posted on February 10, 2018 by jaime

John swung the stick, making an audible impact and leaving a vertical fire-line down her left buttock. Lena shook for a second, though she felt it as heat rather than pain, and arched her back. He was right: she felt very beggy. The rod struck again, leaving a streak of fire where it landed, which slowly calmed to warmth and a kind of mental and bodily peace.

“You know, you have no idea how beautiful you look. And hot.” This wasn’t quite true. She knew she’d made him hard, and that he liked her current posture, prostrated on her knees, with her head touching the carpet between his feet, beyond reason. She waited for the next stroke, but he grasped her hair and pulled her up so her open mouth was level with his cock. Lena rubbed her forehead against that hardness, through his pants, like a cat claiming a human’s hand. He put his hand against the back of her head and held her to him. She waited, and the rod landed again, then again. Lena hissed in breath, then turned to kiss his inner thigh.

With that kiss, some things became urgent. John unbuckled and unzipped. His cock, finally free, pronged the air in the direction of Lena’s nose. She felt his grip tighten on her hair, and he guided her onto his cock. Her lips kissed a soft ring around the head, and he pressed forward. They said, “Hahh,” at more or less the same instant.

Her buttocks and hips burned from the stripes he’d given her. The rod he’d used to inflict them brushed her right shoulder when she took him deep, brushing her nipples against the wool of his pants. She knew that he was happy, and so was she: his cock was velvet stretched over steel, and though it tasted only of skin, it was his skin.

She was sure, though, that she could feel some of the sugared, shaky excitement of his pleasure, through a kind of body reading that comes close to mindreading. She could feel the pleasure that he felt, as well as the heat and joy that came with serving.

She knew she was providing a soft paradise for his cock. He was moving faster in her mouth, loosening his grip on her hair so she had room to move. Her knees hurt a little, and that was good too. She loved serving him, but there was another Lena in her mind, who watched her and considered her, and was excited by the abjectness of her submission. She wished he would bring that rod down again. He was distracted.