A Penny for your Thoughts: Emotionally Trapped

There is so much hate and pain in this world. I’m waiting for the haunted painting and the slime to start rising from below the streets like in Ghostbusters II.

Just a Quick Warning: Not writing related, not a hot story, just me letting it out about all the violence in the world.

First, no one should ever feel the fear of ‘Will I be killed today?’ at any point in their life. Obviously, police officers, security professionals, and military are always wondering if they’ll be shot today (or worse), but think about it, if we could have armed military and security forces that never have to think that, the world would be a much better place.

Yes, I do feel we will always need people who work in some form of security. Even if the world becomes utopia – there will always be people that need to be trained. It would be great if we never needed it, but … humans are flawed.

Second, the pain and grief that I feel for people who just want to go out into the world and live their life, have a fun night, or get an education, that find themselves in these horrific situations is immense. It makes me wonder why we don’t bring back public executions and so forth. I know, grisly, nasty, violent (just another way to spread what we’re trying to stop). Just because these people have been labeled ‘mentally ill’ does not make them so. I know people who have mental illness and they claim it. They do whatever they can to manage their life. Usually, those who can’t take it, take their own lives, without going out and shooting or stabbing or running people over with a vehicle. (Yes, I’ve personally known people to take their own lives. It’s just as emotionally draining and shocking, but my main point is that they didn’t take a bunch of people with them first.)

I feel trapped.

Every time I turn on the tv, there is something else about the latest massacre in Las Vegas. You have no idea how blessed I feel that my friend, who I may not chat with often, is here in Ohio instead of still living in Las Vegas. It’s not just there, though. Local events, less than an hour drive from where I am, hell right by where my daughter went to college a few short months ago, have shooting (and other violent) atrocities. I know of people who have told me they’ve called the cops because of someone they didn’t know being on their porch and the cops were like “What do you want us to do about it?” Uhm, fucking drive by maybe? Find out what the fuck someone I DON’T KNOW is doing on my property? (Especially when living in a sketchy area known for drug use, drug overdose, and violence.)

We never know if something like this is going to happen. We’re encouraged to go on with our lives when they do. Those of us who don’t have people who were harmed or killed during these events have no idea of what those who do are going through – unless you’ve been through it previously. The simple fact that we continue to experience these atrocities has me baffled.

Upon arriving home, I close my garage door. When I get out of my vehicle, I lock it. When I get inside the house, I lock the door behind me. I do open my curtains and I don’t have blinds in the living room windows, because I enjoy having sunshine fill the living room or kitchen. I live in a fairly safe area where the cops patrol and we have a neighborhood watch. The windows are all locked. The only time they are unlocked and open is when I am home all day. I even open the front door on the really nice days – which are almost gone. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have a few moments of anxiety when I see the same vehicle drive down my road several times. They’re usually lost and it’s a given due to how the roads are around here. It doesn’t mean I don’t panic a little when I see someone I don’t know walking to my door. One day I’ll finally give in and get a no solicitation sticker.

Perhaps we need to go back to the simple rule of life: Do unto others as you would have done unto you doesn’t work here for one reason – because if given the chance, they are doing it to themselves. They are shooting themselves – or able to commit suicide by cop. No trial, no jail, no execution. Perhaps we need to go to the more ethical version of “An Ye Harm None, Do What Ye Will”

Yes, that’s the (end of the) Wiccan Rede. Now, I don’t identify as religious, but if I did, I’d be more Wiccan or Taoist or Buddhist than anything else. Just because someone BELIEVES differently than you do, LIVES differently than you do, CHOOSES differently than you do, does not give you the right to commit violence upon them.


By the way, I tend to have a very violent mind. Yes, I do want to hurt people. Some days I have to remind myself I look horrible in orange. But what makes me different is that I don’t follow-through. I play video games when I’m feeling particularly vicious so that I can work out the aggression. I write until I can’t move my fingers any longer – usually stuff that’s worthless because it’s just me cleaning out my violent urges. No one taught me to do these things, I had to learn them on my own. Playing violent video games doesn’t make me want to go out and hurt people – it helps release the tension and stress that I feel.

The only one you have the right to commit violence upon, is yourself. I’m tired of turning on the tv and seeing another mass shooting, another terrorist bombing, another act of violence so that another evil person or group can get their name(s) spread across the globe in nanoseconds.

It makes you wonder why we don’t have a tv channel that just shows kittens. Oh wait, it’s not on tv, but we do have that on the internet. Or puppies. Or meerkats. It just feels that with more and more focus on these violent events – because we have to warn the people – is never ending. What on earth do we have to do in order to find and feel peace not only within ourselves but around us as well? What are we missing that we can’t find equality? Where is our compassion for one another? How will we ever get there if we can’t see past greed and jealousy and hate?

If you are feeling out of sorts – even if you think you’re fine – make a phone call to someone who can listen. If you don’t feel you have someone that will truly be of help, then call a hotline.

Always Keep Fighting. Love Yourself First. Click To Tweet

Remember that taking time for yourself is not taking time away from others. It’s simply a way for you to recharge yourself in order to continue being part of your family, workplace, and community. Saying “NO” is not a bad thing and should never require an explanation. Practice saying it in the mirror. “Sorry, but I’m unable to commit.” (Let me check my schedule and get back to you means they just might nag you until you cry and give in.) “Apologies, but I have a prior commitment.” (No, they do not need specifics. Even if your commitment is to a bubble bath, glass of wine, and an audio book – it is still a commitment.)

Masturbation Monday: Audio Porn


Listening to your lover can be one of the hottest things ever. But what if your lover wasn’t in the room while you were listening?

Almost scraping the side of my beloved Maserati, I hit the brakes. Being late was the worst thing ever for me and tonight was date night! He was on tonight and it was supposed to be live. I hoped to all hell the conversation / interview in the beginning would run a little long.

Grabbing all of my crap from the passenger side, I hopped out of the vehicle and headed for the locked door. It only took me twice to unlock the damn door, but I shoved my way in, slamming it tight behind me, then flipping the lock. I made it up the handful of steps and officially into the house, then dropped everything right there. I headed for the bedroom, kicking off my heels and opening the app at the same time. Multi-tasking was a specialty.

Tossing the phone on the bed, I stripped, throwing clothes into the hamper. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard two people speaking conversationally. I had made it. They were chatting about what he would be reading. Skin of my teeth.

My favorite toy was never far away and within moments I was snuggled comfortable on the bed, pillows in just the right places, when the narrator started speaking. His voice thrilled me to my toes. Husky, warm, tingling all those nerves in a way that no other man was able to. And then he started reading.

Taking a few more moments, I plugged in my best headset and felt as though he was only speaking for my pleasure. I moaned in absolute need as he started out the story, slow and teasing. I never missed an episode. Any novel he narrated was on my phone for the time between episodes of new readings. I had my favorites downloaded and backed up.

Many lonely nights were soothed by his smooth-spoken words, tantalizing temptations as they brought me to completion. It wouldn’t be any different tonight. It never took him long to get to the sexy bits of the story and this one heated me up fast. When the woman in the story was being spanked, I spanked myself. When her nipples were being sucked, I licked my fingers and did my best to simulate it. I touched myself, following the details of the story, as best I could.

When it came time, I turned on the toy and teased myself even more. Vibrations against my nipples, along my collarbone, ribs, and working my way down to my mound. Taking every word in, letting them ripple over my being, I got myself hotter than the sun.

As I slid the toy up inside, then out and over my clit, following a specific pattern to keep me on the edge, he said the magic words. “Come for me, baby. Come now.” And I came. My entire body shuddered in pleasure and I was swept away on a tide of pleasure. Panting, I hit the power button to turn off the toy. I tore off the headphones. That was all I needed to hear. I’d listen to the after thoughts later.

I looked up when I smelled the clean scent of my sweet man standing over me, naked and ready. “Was it all you needed love?” I couldn’t take my eyes off his hand as he stroked himself slow and steady.

“I thought it was live?” My voice was raspy, so I repeated myself in case he didn’t hear me.

“It was, but with a good head start just in case there were any tech issues. I’ve been watching you for about five minutes now.” That voice, his voice. I needed nothing more to make me melt into a puddle. I reached for him.

“Why are you just standing there? Get me off. Again.” He needed no other push to join me in our bed and as he pressed kisses along my skin and stroked me with firm fingers, he told me everything he was going to do to me in that warm, husky voice.

You can find more delicious and naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords

A Penny for your Thoughts: Sex and Sunshine

When it comes to sex, even today, we are having to fight to bring it out of the darkness. Schools teach – if anything at all – abstinence and disease and the mechanics. They don’t bother to teach you about consent – because you shouldn’t be having sex anyway, right?

Growing up, we didn’t talk about sex at all. Which is a horrible thing because horrible things can happen to young people. I grew up when people knew their neighbors, got together with them, helped each other out. Not all neighbors are good people, by the way. You learn the hard way and everyone suffers as a result.

About the age of 9 I found Playboy magazines – a box full of them – in a closet. I have a curious mind, so of course I paged through them. I skimmed the articles. It didn’t affect me negatively. I didn’t go out and do naughty things. I was nine for fuck’s sake. I was also the quiet, weird girl everyone thought was shy. But no, I was just living in my imagination more than reality. It was much more entertaining to me. I felt welcome there more than anywhere.

My parents never talked about sex. I decided not to go that route with my own daughter. I answered her questions with age-appropriate information. I remember her asking me why guys like blowjobs when she was a new teenager. I think I answered in the terms of warm, wet, sucking action on a sensitive organ. And then I also explained that guys will ask for blowjobs and not reciprocate… because, well, it’s true more often than not, even in this day and age of sex-positivity.

Sex is a personal journey and experience. It’s high time we embrace it instead of shoving it into the dark. I honestly think if there were less shame in having sex we’d have less celebrities and politicians having to apologize for their sexual acts (and no, I don’t mean those that include minors). There’s no shortage of celebrities having to admit to being addicted to sex – and to be honest, it’s getting old. Actually, it was getting old ten years ago, now it’s just ridiculous.

Sex is a part of almost every person’s life. We should be teaching people about the pleasure of sex, how to protect themselves when having sex, and proper consent to sex. It shouldn’t be shamed or hidden behind locked doors. Well, you know what I mean. Obviously, I don’t want to see my neighbors out having sex on my front lawn or anything, but I just think if they decided to bring in a third or a fourth or a string of lovers to their bed we shouldn’t shame them for it.

It’s also high time we keep our noses out of other people’s sex lives. Celebrities, politicians, and athletes have every right to their own private lives instead of being put under a microscope looking for naughty scandal. Just because some believe one way and others believe another is no reason for us to constantly battle about the right way to live. You wouldn’t force someone who’s allergic to a type of food to eat it, right? Forcing beliefs on others just because you think it’s the right moral way is no way to live a happy, full life. It’s a great way to make you, and others, miserable.

And before I get more preachy… Sex should be enjoyed between consenting people for pleasurable reasons, however they may want it to be whether it’s vanilla missionary with the lights off or with a group of lovers watching each other get off. Perhaps if we stopped shoving sex and sexual urges into a deep dark closet it would be less of a shock that people actually have it.

Enjoy your sex life, however you want. Teach your children to respect their own bodies and the bodies of others. Teach them that sex can be fun and funny and consent is sexy.

Interviewed by Oleander Plume

In case you missed it, awhile back I was interviewed by the intoxicating Oleander Plume – goddess of the Horatio Slice Universe – currently known as “O. Plumey” when you see her pop up on Twitter. 

Welcome to another episode of “Super Heroes of Smut”! This week, I have the red-headed ball of awesome known as Mischa Eliot in the hot seat, discussing all things smutty. Before we get started, let’s learn a little about Mischa:

Obligatory Bio for Oleander: That’s right, Oleander made me write this for her. She’s a slave driver, I swear. Anyway. I’m Mischa Eliot and I write smutty stories. I like to play in the BDSM realm and I enjoy dragging out my stories to give you the most scintillating smutty goodness I can offer. My cat, Peanut, enjoys preventing me from writing by latching onto my right arm, with claws. Please send help. During the rest of the day, I’m an office superhero. I should wear a freaking cape, but I’m pretty sure that’s against office dress code. I know, ridiculous. I live in Northeast Ohio and I’m constantly begging or searching for sunshine.

Oleander Plume: You rascal!! shuffles papers This is a serious interview. Let’s get serious. uncontrollable laughter How long have you been writing (erotica or other wise)?

You can read the whole thing here!

And, while you’re at it – pick up your very own copy of Horatio Slice (free pimping by me because I fucking love this book).

Masturbation Monday: Scent-sations

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words – and sometimes it spawns over 1200. Enjoy this naughty story and make sure to click the link below to read more from other incredibly talented authors.

I shoved my face into his pillow and breathed deep, which was stupid because then I ended up sneezing a ridiculous amount of times from the goose feathers. I hated goose down. How the fuck did he use this pillow comfortably? I ripped the pillow case off and tossed his pillow away. Grabbing my own pillow, I continued to smell shampoo and his unique musk from the cotton fabric.

Mason wasn’t even going to be gone for long. He’d been called in to work for an emergency meeting. Someone had broken a leg and he had to be brought up to speed for the upcoming event. Mason had to take their place. I writhed against the sheets, mixing my own scent with his. I loved sleeping naked.

Squeezing my boob, I snapped a pic – without my face, of course – and sent it to his phone. I hoped he had it in his front pocket on vibrate. In fact, I knew it was there. Technically, he wasn’t allowed to have his phone in meetings, but if he kept it in his pocket, then no one said anything. I stuck my tongue out as if I were trying to reach my nipple, then snapped another pic. After cropping it, I sent it.

Our plan had been to stay in bed and fuck the day away. Slow, fast, soft, hard – writhing against each other until we couldn’t move any longer. And then doing it some more after we caught our breath and our hearts resumed normal rhythm. Obviously, we’d take breaks to eat, and I knew we’d have to have coffee. I had planned to suck his cock while he was flipping pancakes or scrambling eggs, or burning waffles.

I bit my lower lip and snapped a pic, cropping it below my eyes, I sent it.

I could imagine him knowing it was me, wondering if I was okay. Hoping it wasn’t urgent. Knowing that since I hadn’t called frantically, that it was just me texting him random shit. Except he wouldn’t know that I’d broken my no naked photos rule until he was able to look at his phone. Positioning my legs just so, covering myself with my free hand, one finger pressed between wet lips, I snapped another pic. This one I decided to change things up. I turned it black and white and stuck a silly mustache sticker where my finger disappeared, then clicked send.

Just as I was thinking of what crazy thing I could do next, the bedroom door burst open and I almost screamed my hair white. Shockingly, I didn’t fall off the damn bed. I was so close to the edge, but I hung on like the kitten in those posters and regained my balance.

Panting, I glared at Mason. “What in the fuck, Mason!” I threw the empty pillow case at his face and then shifted so I was on my knees, boobs swaying as I resettled on the bed. “You almost scared me to death. I could’ve DIED just now! What if I had fallen off the bed and hit my damn head?”

“It’s your fault.” Mason stripped off his tie and then started unbuttoning his shirt. I hadn’t noticed until then the bulge in his pants. “You kept texting me during the meeting, so I asked to be excused to use the restroom. I thought you were dying and then I saw the damn photos. I was SURE you’d hit your head. I told them I had to come home, something was wrong with my wife. I have to go back tomorrow so I can be ready for this show next week.”

Mason’s face was red, but not because he was mad. He was embarrassed. I had broken my rule. MY rule. The rule I told him would never ever be broken. We were never to send each other naked pics, but what could I do other than break that stupid rule? We were supposed to be spending the day in bed fucking each other. Just thinking about it all week had left me horny and then he had to go into work.

“I’m not sorry! We were supposed to be here fucking each other and feasting on chocolate covered strawberries and drinking mimosas or some weird kind of honeymoon stuff that people do when they get married. You promised we would have today. You broke your promise, at no fault to you, so I broke my rule. I think we’re even.” I crossed my arms, he unzipped his pants.

“Suck my fucking cock. Now.” Mason pushed his pants to his ankles and pointed at his purple-headed one-eyed snake. He tried his damnedest to look mad, to look mean. Too bad for him, and so good for me, his baby face couldn’t do either. I burst out laughing.

“Make me.” Hands on hips, the ‘I Dare You’ look on my face, knees slightly spread apart as I hoped to hell I wouldn’t accidentally bounce myself off the bed. It had happened a few times before, always resulting in some kind of weird bruise.

Mason grabbed my tits and squeezed, making my eyes roll back into my head.

“Oh, fuck baby, that’s what I need right now.” I put my hands over his, making him mash my boobs together. In a few seconds, he was on his knees on the bed in front of me, pants still hanging around his ankles, tie and shirt undone. Sexy as hell.

Leaning over, he nibbled and nuzzled along my neck. When he got to my ear, he squeezed one breast harder, “I said, suck my fucking cock now.” He slid a hand up into my hair and then pulled down towards his cock.

I couldn’t resist, but I didn’t want the game to end just yet. “I didn’t hear the magic word,” came out all sing-song, followed up by snickering. Placing my hands on each side of his legs gave me just enough leverage to keep him from forcing me down further, unless he wanted to hurt me. Mason wouldn’t hurt a fly. Hell, I knew he didn’t kill the spiders I sent him after but took them outside. Just being this dominant with me was probably giving him heart palpitations. Not only were Mason’s hands a little damp, his breathing was erratic.

“Slut of mine, I demand a damn good cock-sucking for your naughty behavior.” I tilted my head to the side, of course thanks to him allowing me since my hair was still wrapped tightly around his hand.

“As you wish, husband.” When our eyes met, I saw the desire burning in his eyes. Desire for me. Opening up wide, I licked and swirled, teased and nibbled. I played with his balls and tickled his taint. I squeezed his ass cheeks together like we had my tits and then pulled them apart all while bobbing up and down on his delectable dick.

I knew what kind of porn he enjoyed watching, so I gave it to him like a porn star. I slurped and moaned and listened to his cries of ecstasy above me. When I knew he was about to shoot, I pulled myself off and jerked his rod in my hot hands until he covered my face and tits with streaks of sticky sperm.

Mason collapsed on the bed, his pants trailing off. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes. I’d have to spank him for that one later. He broke his own rule: no shoes in the main house. Such a bad boy, such a great husband.

You can find more delicious and naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords