Adventures in Writing: It’s not me. It’s never me.

Authors around the world want you to know:

It’s not me. It’s never me.

(Unless it’s a true to life story, which then it may (or may not) be exaggerated, your mileage may vary.)

You have no idea how much I want a tattoo of, or a recording of, “It’s not me. It’s never me.” because of how often I say those words. I write BDSM, but I don’t live in the lifestyle, so how could it be me in the story if I’ve never experienced what I’ve written? I have people who are amazing and live in the lifestyle that tell me ‘yes this works, no that doesn’t work, try this instead.” and it gives me an edge.

The adage “write what you know” is rarely good advice because I have an imagination and what I know is unlimited thanks to that imagination. (I also have access to this little thing called the “Internet” and it contains Porn. Lots and Lots of PORN.)

Look at Science Fiction. If we only wrote what we knew, there would be no Star Trek or Star Wars or Starship Troopers. What about Fantasy? The billions of words written in fantasy books may not exist. Perhaps they do, elsewhere, but they don’t exist in our everyday lives.

These books containing alpha males that override the heroine’s good sense to walk away by kissing them – if that were real then the entire world over would be full of women with men they didn’t want to be with but couldn’t seem to walk away from and every time that man kissed them they got drenched in the panties and bent over backwards to do whatever they could to get him to kiss them again, and more.

Look at Space Girls! from Mars by Tracey Desanto. Did she go to Mars to meet these Space Girls! and get their story? Or perhaps they came to Earth and she just happened to run into them? Well, if she did, I would definitely be grilling her on every single detail, because hello! SPACE GIRLS! from MARS!

So, when an author straight up tells you that “No, this character, nor any other character I have written about, is me (or you for that matter).” believe them. Stop asking them. Readers are more than welcome to pretend that characters in the stories I write are me, if they so wish but please, pretty please, remember that they aren’t. It’s just another “thing” that authors have to deal with in life. It’s a huge reason why many authors – especially erotica authors – don’t tell anyone what they write. They don’t want the questions, the recommendations, or advice unless they ask for it.

And, before you say something that sounds like “but it’s flattering for them to think it’s you…” I just want you to know that it’s more creepy than flattering. If you want to imagine a character is me, that’s fine and dandy – but I want you to keep that tidbit to yourself. Don’t tell me, don’t tell the world. It can be your little secret in a circle of one.

notmeWhat are your thoughts about this topic? Do you have a standard answer when people ask you which character you are?

Do you tell friends, family, etc what you write and allow them to read your stories?

Share your feelings and views (remember to be kind) in the comments.

Excerpt: Fix-It Fast 10 – Brooklyn and The Rebel

Okay, so the Fix-It Fast Bundle is now LIVE and, just to give Kindle Unlimited one more chance, I’ve included it. Hopefully, you’ll all be kind and not read in PageFlip. Please enjoy this Excerpt from Brooklyn and The Rebel!

Dust filled the air and covered me. I grabbed a clean handkerchief from my zipped pocket to wipe my face as I looked for a chance to go upstairs. Sounds of a window breaking amped up my heart rate. No time, I ran up the stairs but I knew it was too late. I couldn’t get any air, breathing too deeply would be a bad idea. At least I could see thanks to the safety glasses. I could hear the guy yelling downstairs and something hitting the wall; I presumed the gorilla’s backup kicked in the back door.

I got to the top of the stairs, only to have my ankle grabbed. I kicked out with my other foot, aiming for the asshole’s head, but missing. I kicked again when he started pulling and kicked his wrist. He wrenched it back and shook it. Steel-toed boots were a must in the construction world. I could hear him growling and snarling at me as I turned to run. A stupid move in a ramshackle abandoned house. I tripped over something and slid, my clothes and some skin catching on splinters and nails in the floorboards.

“Now you and me are gonna have a fun time, missy,” The gorilla man said to me. He started for me and went to grab me. A loud thunk sounded and his eyes rolled back into his head. Falling to his knees, I scrambled out of the way, just before he face-planted in my lap. I looked up to find the woman that had been on the back porch earlier.

“I already took care of the other one. Look, we need to get you out of here. I work undercover with Drake and I just blew mine to save your ass.” She was not happy and holding a nice chunk of wood. I decided listening to her would the better option and stood.

“Thank you, I’m Brooklyn,” I held out my hand and she stared at me, turned on her heel and headed for the stairs, taking them quicker than was safe. I headed to follow, glancing back at the guy who had some nasty plans for me. I really needed a drink. And probably a bath in hydrogen peroxide. Along with some kind of pain reliever for my hip.

I limped my way outside and unlocked the truck. The woman hopped in the passenger side at the same time I hopped in. I fired up the engine and backed up, knocking over the bike parked too close to the giant vehicle.

“I’d feel bad about that if he hadn’t just tried to hurt me,” I muttered. I wanted to roll the damn thing over repeatedly, but knowing I didn’t have that kind of time and knowing it would cause damage to a work vehicle, I shifted into drive and floored it down the bumpy gravel driveway. We weren’t too far from town, but I grabbed my phone and called Uncle Hank.

If you enjoyed this Excerpt, you can now purchase (or borrow through Kindle Unlimited) from Amazon!

Featured From Elsewhere: Becoming a Dominant by Jack Duncan

Becoming a Dominant

by: Jack Duncan

Originally Posted on the Private Facebook Group: Masters/Mistress/Dom/Domme (title is cut off due to length)


Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

Instead of ripping off memes today, I figured I would write something original.

I see many Doms that say “Submit to me now.” “Send pics.” “Obey”, etc. to people they don’t even know. Sometimes they do this to Dommes/Mistresses which, of course, indicates they did not even bother to read anything about the person they are going to spam. The same guys do it to lady after lady after lady.

Desperation is not attractive.

My theory is that there are three steps to gaining the proper submission of a sub or slave.

First, gain the mind. For example, telling a sub/slave “Gosh, you sure are pretty. Add me.” isn’t how you go about it. Try standing out from the crowd. When 100 other guys are saying the exact same thing, be different. Try “Hello and welcome to the group. Have fun! Be safe.” This way you’re showing them they aren’t just a piece of meat and that you see them as a person. If you want a piece of meat, hire a prostitute. A proper Dom/me sub/slave relationship involves the psychological control and willingness of a sub to mentally submit to the Dom/me. Physically Domming someone is easy but owing their mind makes the next steps easier.

Second, physical attraction. Ultimately BDSM will involve some kind of sexual interaction. Even if that is in the form of a Dom/me setting tasks that the sub must do (e.g. edging, self-pleasure, humiliation, etc.). this may seem like a more difficult thing to overcome, especially if, like me, your nickname is Captain Caveman. However, if you accomplish the first part properly, you stand a greater chance of overcoming this aspect.

Third, and this to me is the absolute most important, your sub/slave has submitted and you have had a happy (read: healthy) relationship for a period of time. Now you earn his/her soul. They fully submit and given themselves over to you. There truly is no greater responsibility or honor that a Dom/me can gain from another person. This level can even, and often will, surpass the bond of a husband and wife. You CANNOT achieve this level in five minutes of conversation.

Each case varies, but years is not out of the realm of possibility. I hope this helped someone. This is my opinion. There are many schools of though and I strongly suggest that you seek out may points of view. Read and educate yourself. Most importantly, be safe.

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

Jack is a friend of mine. We’ve been friends for.. oh somewhere between 8 – 10 years now. You’ve seen his handiwork from the All Tied Up post. He’s been in the lifestyle and has experienced quite a lot more than I have. He’s my go to person for the ‘does this work?’ questions regarding much of my writing. You can see just how extreme he enjoys his BDSM by visiting his tumblr. I highly respect his thoughts regarding the lifestyle. He’s also known for his excellent control, kindness, and manners (regardless of his gruff exterior, he really is just a teddy bear).

Happy #NationalAuthorsDay!

Not only is it the first day of NaNoWriMo, it’s also National Author’s Day!

How do you celebrate today? By visiting the websites and/or blogs of your favorite authors, leaving comments, clicking links to their books and making purchases. If you already have all of their stories then share those links with friends and family you think would enjoy the stories as well.

It’s kind of hard to do that if you’re into some kind of kinky furry meets sissy erotica, though. Right? If that’s the case, you can always share those buy links elsewhere. If you’re part of a group, maybe you’d be allowed to share them there. If your group doesn’t allow anything that’s not free, then maybe just linking to their blog would be allowed. I offer free stories here on the block – complete stories, not just dead ends that lead nowhere. I also offer free excerpts to stories that are for sale. Everyone can make a full decision whether or not to purchase what I’ve got for sale, but I certainly don’t make it necessary.

Do I want you to buy my stories? Absolutely. And I’d love it if you’d leave a review as well. You should do that as often as possible. If you don’t want to leave a review on an Erotica book, then email the author asking them to keep it anonymous. You can also use comments on their website or the contact form if they have one. If that’s too much work, you could always change your name to some version of “Anonymous” on the website you purchase books from. (I know that’s possible on Amazon.)

So go out there and pimp out your favorite author! Or… well, their books. And remind those that you’re pimping those books out to that Reading is Sexy, but Leaving a Review is Irresistible.

Masturbation Monday: Demonically Desired

Happy Halloween, my lovelies! Today I have for you a tale of possession and the stealing of innocence. I hope it’s everything you wanted this year. Remember, if you use a Ouija board this holiday, make sure to say goodbye! XoXo

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

It had been a few centuries since I’d gotten to walk the world among humans, so when I heard some crazy college kids using a Ouija board, I just couldn’t resist to play around with them. Hopefully, they’d give me a window of opportunity. I longed to be free of my fiery domain.

The young woman working the board, directing the questions, was highly serious. She wasn’t taking it for a game like the others, but there was something else about her. I could almost taste her innocence on my tongue. I wanted to taste her innocence up close and personal.

So, there I waited and they finally asked if there were any spirits around to communicate, giving up on specific people who had passed. Taking the opening, I moved them over to “YES” on the board. Everyone gasped and I couldn’t help but snicker at their ignorance. They had no idea what they were dealing with.

“Rochelle, ask something before they go away!” Jackie scrambled to grab her pen and notebook to take notes. Luke grabbed his phone and started recording, jostling for position with his free hand on the planchette.

“What do I ask?” Rochelle’s eyes widened and I grinned. Innocence oozed out of her pores. She looked over to the young man at her right and I felt desire speed her heart rate and dampen her panties. That was my way in and I salivated as I waited for the chance to take it.

“Jared? What do I ask?” Tiki torches lit up the area, reflecting in Rochelle’s eyes. Jared looked over at her, the boy she was hot for, and he shook his head.

“How long have they been dead? Ask that.” Rochelle placed her fingers back on the planchette and before she could even ask the question I slid it over the numbers.

“Whoa, that was weird as fuck,” Danny yanked his fingers off the planchette and looked pale in the flickering flames. Jackie scribbled down the answer and vibrated with excitement, giggling and squirming on the grass.

Before they could ask me another question, a group playing football almost ran over the group. the ball hit the board, knocking the planchette away. As I possessed the boy, flames on the tiki torches flared a couple of feet into the air. The bonfire grew high and started throwing off sparks into the crowd around it.

The possession of Jared was simple. Chaos reigned as the college kids started scattering and screaming. Sparks flew from power lines not too far off. I flexed the muscles of the boy I possessed, grinning. Poor Jared fought for control but he was weak in spirit. I locked him up in a little box.

Grabbing Rochelle’s hand, I pulled her to her feet and we started running. The Ouija board was trampled by those running behind us. Inside I was thrilled to be free among the humans. Rochelle stumbled several times, but I kept her with me. A few blocks away from the clearing, she tried to pull away.

“I need a minute,” she stopped and breathed heavy, trying to catch her breath. I walked around in a circle, watching for anyone who may have seen us run off together. Shockingly, we were alone.

“Look, we’re not far from my place. We should hurry. I have this eerie feeling,” I gently squeezed her shoulder and ran my hand down her arm hoping to incite desire within her that she’d felt earlier. Rochelle nodded, took another deep breath and we hurried down the street.

Once we were in my apartment, I shifted my intentions. Rochelle was sitting on my couch, right on the edge with her knees together, sipping water. I sat down close to her, my guise as Jared proving to get her heart pounding in her chest. Placing my hand on her knee, I used my other to lift her chin.

“Are you okay, Rochelle?” I put worried, caring, and a tiny bit of lust into my features. Rochelle’s eyes slid back and forth over my face, Jared’s face, trying to read it. A soft smile broke across her lips and I slid closer to her on the couch, wrapping my arms around her tight.

“You’re safe here. Nothing will get you here.” I ran my hands up and down her back, petted her hair, and then sealed the deal by kissing her on the temple. Rochelle relaxed as much as her desire would allow her to in my arms and placed her head on my shoulder.

“Jared,” Rochelle’s voice was dripping with urges she felt all the time around the face I wore. I controlled my face and pulled her onto my lap. I kept petting her, running my hands over her body. I could smell how wet her panties were with wanting him.

“Stay the night with me. You’ll be safe here.” I knew she could feel the length of Jared’s cock pressing against her as she sat in my lap. Rochelle’s breathing had ramped up a notch. I pulled her hair back and ran my lips along her neck, whispered into her ear.

“Oh, Jared.” The I don’t want to be alone tonight whisper always worked with these innocent women. Express a little fear and their panties dropped. I pulled her chin over and pressed my lips to hers. When she gasped, I ran my tongue along her lower lip, then slipped it in between to explore further.

As she gave in to her desires, my hand snaked up her thigh, under the prim skirt she wore. I kissed her harder and pressed my fingers against her wetness. The cotton strip between my fingers and her slick slit irked me a little. I wanted to rip them off and take her.

“Rochelle, you’ll stay, right? Stay with me all night?” I wiggled my fingertips against her and bit her lower lip before a moan could escape. I pressed harder, separating the soft folds to find the button and rubbed hard. “Please, Rochelle. Don’t leave me alone tonight.”

This time a full moan of need came from within her, “Yes, Jared! I’ll stay. Please don’t stop.” Her legs spread open on my lap and I slid my fingers underneath the ridiculous cloth that women wore to preserve their modesty. Fingers slipping inside, I rubbed her nub with my thumb.

Rochelle’s thoughts were completely open to me now. In one part, she was panicking about what was happening, but in the other part, the part that mattered most to me, she was begging for more. She wanted Jared to take her, to fuck her, to make her his little slut.

I ripped her panties off and laid her down on the couch. I needed to taste her innocence on my tongue and now I had my chance. She cried out from the speed at which I moved, but I soothed her with more petting and kisses. When I lifted her skirt, and pressed my lips against her thighs, sliding my tongue higher, she parted her thighs so fast I was surprised she didn’t hurt either of us.

I shoved my face against her sweetness and tasted all of her. I glanced up and saw that Rochelle’s eyes were closed, her lips parted as she writhed against me. Grinning, I allowed part of my real self to slip through. I tongue-fucked her with my serpent-long forked tongue. I slid it up inside her so far, I could taste her hymen.

As she flailed beneath me, Rochelle drenched my face in her sweet cream. The sounds she made during her climax had echoed off the walls of the small living room. Now, she laid there panting, little whimpers escaping from her lips while I licked her clean.

Using the true length of my tongue, I slid it across Jared’s cheeks and chin. Rochelle was too blissed out to notice. I removed her skirt much more gently than I had her underwear. My borrowed heart raced while I unbuttoned her blouse. A plain white bra greeted my eyes. It had a front clasp and I popped it open. Beautiful pale orbs with tiny pink rosebuds greeted my eyes.

As my mouth descended onto one nipple, I sucked as much of her flesh in as I could. Rochelle squirmed beneath me and her hands fisted in my shirt. I paused long enough to remove the awful garment and she unzipped my pants.

I rejoined her on the couch, sucking on her other breast. When she started begging and pleading for more I slid the head of my surrogate cock at the opening between her thick thighs.  Nails dug into my back, urging me to continue. Pushing forward, I entered her swiftly and didn’t bother pausing to let her get used to my girth.

The feeling of her innocence vanishing as I plunged into her over and over again filled me with energies I hadn’t felt in ages. Virgins were harder to come by unless they were reborn and those weren’t anywhere near as fun to corrupt as true virgins. Rochelle cried out as her sweet center clenched onto my length. Her body trembled and shimmied beneath me as she reached orgasm again and again.

Right when she was at the peak of her climax, I allowed my true cock to fill her. She screamed and clawed at me all over again. While her eyes were closed, I kissed her, allowing my forked tongue to wrap around her own tongue.

With sharp nails, I pinched her nipples until she writhed beneath me like a bucking bronco. I couldn’t hold back any longer, she was such a little minx beneath me, wild and untamed. My eyes glowed and when she looked into them, fear engulfed her being. The taste of her fear on my senses tantalized me further and I exploded deep inside her hot little hole.

Rochelle screamed but not in panic as I had expected, but lust, “More, give me more, please don’t stop.” The depths of her desire had overridden her panic and I pounded her until she had milked every drop from my demon cock. I kissed her sweetly then and grinned, showing sharp pointy teeth as I did.

“Happy Halloween, my slave.” I sunk my teeth into her breast and claimed her as mine. Forever mine.

(Special thanks to Nicci Haydon for researching a vs an when it comes to Ouija.)

If you’ve enjoyed this post, please come visit others to see what they’ve shared!

You can find more delicious 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