Friday, March 6, 2015

The mastering chambers #SatSpanks

The nice thing about writing in the fantasy genre is that you get to make up crazy things like mastering chambers…

Every one of the ten mastering chambers had slits cut in the door, so that the discipline and fucking inside could be observed, whether for training purposes or for supervision. They had all been occupied that morning, and there had been mastering going on in the girls’ hall itself, over the divans, such as usually only occurred on high festivals.

Now, only one chamber was occupied, from the sound of it. Qual checked the chambering register that sat on its pedestal by the entry to the little corridor off which the mastering chambers opened. Sir Loke had borrowed Altin from Sir Gentan, it appeared. The noises coming from the third chamber seemed to indicate that he was punishing her severely, and indeed the register said, in Sir Loke’s cramped handwriting, Altin, fifty lashes for gossiping: Sir Loke for Sir Gentan: other duties. “Other duties” was the way Lord Kesin and Qual had agreed the incident with Hala would be recorded—in truth Sir Gentan had spilled his mastery in the general revel and was thus unavailable to master Altin. Sir Loke, whose appetites were prodigious and his mastery correspondingly copious, had clearly volunteered to give Altin what she merited, with his customary severity.


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The Caroline box-set is here! #ageplay of the very naughtiest kind!

I'm so excited to announce this set! This is ultra-dirty, schoolgirl-focused ageplay — a lot of it is not for the faint of heart.

Three great books by a best-selling author of age-play erotica! 


Caroline's Rocking Horse 

Caroline Dawkins is a professor of English who has never confessed her age-play and spanking fantasies to her husband, George Lane, a corporate attorney. After George comes home one night and finds Caroline pleasuring herself, over the course of an extraordinary month Caroline and George utterly transform their erotic life together in the pattern of those taboo fantasies. 

From the lovely, degrading preparation and inspection of Caroline's charms, to the dark erotic practices she never thought she would get to try, George and Caroline taste the forbidden delights of age-play and connect emotionally as they never imagined they could. 


Caroline's Little Friends 

When Caroline overhears two of her former students, Mary and Angela, talking about how they saw her getting a spanking from her husband, George, the stage is set for a new phase of Caroline and George's age-play relationship. 

Using experiences gained from new friendships with couples in age-play relationships, Caroline and George will travel deeper into their taboo fantasies in an attempt to help Caroline's students and to deepen their own connection to each other and to their new friends. 

From a "little party" where Caroline and her new "little" friend Caitlin play Colonial Girl dolls, to a steamy weekend with Caitlin and her husband Joe in New York City, Caroline and George find new ways to satisfy each other's longings. At the same time, Caroline finds herself drawn to Caitlin in a way she never imagined. In the end, will Caroline decide that, even though she is first and foremost her husband's little girl, she can take on the responsibility of helping Mary and Angela realize their own fantasies? Will her new friendship with Caitlin help her discover what it means to take the upper hand with someone, while still remaining obedient? 

Publisher's note: "Caroline's Little Friends" is an erotic novel intended for adults only. It contains explicit sexual activity and domestic discipline themes in an age-play setting. All characters in "Caroline's Little Friends" are adults and are explicitly portrayed as such." 


Caroline's Little Club 

When a picture Caroline took of her former students Mary and Angela after a spanking goes viral among the alumni of Caroline's school, it seems like Caroline's ageplay life with her husband George, and with Mary and Angela, could become embarrassingly public. With the help of her friend Caitlin, and fortified by a steamy weekend with George, Caitlin, and Joe in Bermuda, Caroline will have to get to the bottom of a mystery, while trying to find suitable ageplay partners for Mary and Angela. 

Luckily, Mary has met a young but supremely confident guy who calls her "young lady," and Caitlin has found a rich New York theater producer who may be a stern protector for Angela. But who was it who really posted that picture, and what will it take to get them to see that ageplay can be magical for adults wired that way? 

Click here to buy it on Amazon!

Panty-check: EXPLORATIONS files

I'm re-running the stories that serve as deep background for EXPLORATIONS. The story continues from this post.

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After Charles returned around 4 on Friday, I would usually--for we did vary this sometimes, and if I'd had a difficult week I would sometimes do whatever it took to make him spank me, since sometimes I just need it, for myself--stand him in front of his throne and respectfully and ceremonially undo his belt, and unzip his zipper, and lower first his jeans, then his boxers, to his feet. He confesses that despite the basic ridiculousness of having a third-year law student with more earning potential than any Latin teacher in the universe do this, it was in itself, before I had even touched his cock, one of the biggest turn-ons he had ever known. The deep groan he invariably let out when I took him all the way to the back of my throat seems to me to confirm the truth of the testimony.

Then I would seat him, gently and ritually, in the throne (unless he decided he wanted to be rough with me, in the way that a guy can only do when he's standing up and fucking your face). As I say in EXPLORATIONS, I've never really enjoyed giving head, but on those Friday afternoons in fall and winter 2001, fighting my gag reflex to drive Charles wild just felt good and right. There's an art to turning your mouth into a cunt, and while I can't say I've mastered it, at least I've swallowed enough of my beloved's sperm to think I can hold my head up in the assembly of the cocksuckers.

(Hmmm. Assembly of the Cocksuckers. Do they have meetings? Do they have to show their prowess, and do those who fail get punished?)

Anyway. By 5pm on Friday, Charles would usually have had his first orgasm of the weekend, and he would contentedly see to dinner, whether he were making it himself (he's a nearly-professional-grade cook, lucky me) or ordering in. He usually cooked on Friday, because we usually went out on Saturday, sometimes I thought (gratified) only so that Charles could put his hand up my skirt during dinner to "verify" that I was in fact both shaved and panty-less, always making me think for an instant that he was going to call the maître-d' over to show off my cunt and bottom while detailing what they were good for, and what I was best at, and what I still needed to practice, if I were going to be a really valuable piece of ass.

These were full Réagean outings: I wore skirts with nothing under them and carried my butt-plug in my purse. I was required to sit always in such a way that my naked bottom was against the surface of the car-seat, or the chair. Many was the time that I left such surfaces shamefully moist on rising. That most delicious of restaurant fantasies, being ordered to the bathroom mid-meal for a fucking over the toilet, doesn't actually work mid-meal, because they think you've left without paying the check, but our favorite restaurant had unisex bathrooms that could be slipped into relatively discreetly after dinner. It's not a great angle, and I think the only time either of us came in there was when I sat on the toilet and went down on him, but just having done it made us feel like sex gods, and we would head home in the mood for more.

If we were by ourselves, and weren't seated side-by-side in that goofy French way (It being French doesn't help that much; what did help is that if we were seated like that he would have his hand between my legs under the table for most of dinner.), right after the appetizers Charles would look at me so steadily that I, knowing what was about to happen, would instantly blush. Then he would say, so distinctly that I was always sure the whole restaurant could hear, "panty check." Then he would pretend to drop his napkin, and get down below table level, and I would have to put my hands down to my knees and lift my skirt for inspection, all the way to the tops of my thighs, parting my knees as I did so, my face beet red and my cunt growing ever warmer and wetter.

"This is to signify that you are naked," he would whisper, quoting, with his hand brazenly up my skirt to remind me."And that my nakedness is for you," I would paraphrase back, thanking God for the shame and the risk, and the thrill and the love.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Visually inspired: the little room

(See here for an explanation of this series and here for an index to it.)

When they brought Sally to the little room on the third floor, they told her as soon as the door was shut that she was there for a spanking.

"Oh, please, no, sir!" said the terrified housemaid.

"You know," said Mr. Higgins, that disciplinary consequences were an important part of the contract you signed, "do you not?"

"Yes," sobbed Sally.

"And I venture to say you won't try to deny what Mrs. Higgins discovered about your lack of underwear?" said Mr. Loren, invited by Mr. Higgins to witness and to participate in Sally's punishment.

"Yes, but. . ."

"But what, Sally?" asked Mr. Higgins.

"But the laundry wasn't done, and. . ."

"And all your knickers were too soiled to be worn again?" Mr. Loren said, scornfully. "That's rather shameful in and of itself, isn't it? In addition to it being your responsibility to make sure you have sufficient knickers to uphold the clause of your contract that requires you to be properly dressed at all times."

In reality, Sally's knickers had been taken by the butler, after he had had her in the pantry, but that was of course not an excuse she might use.

"At any rate," said Mr. Higgins, "I suppose it spares you the embarrassment of having them removed, doesn't it?"

"And us the inconvenience of removing them," added Mr. Loren.

"Now get over the cot, Sally. Right this instant," Mr Higgins said, assuming his place in the chair against the wall, where he might hold Sally's hands tightly to prevent her interfering with her chastisement, and watch the maid's face as Mr. Loren spanked her. "You are a very bad girl, and now you must learn the price of indecorous behavior."

If only that nasty Mrs. Higgins hadn't raised her skirt in the middle of the drawing-room, suspecting her of doing exactly what she had done with the butler, and saying, "Oh, dear, this is very bad. George, I'm afraid you must come see this."

Mr. Loren pulled up her skirt, as Mr. Higgins tightened his grip on her hands. She would receive no mercy, she knew. No girl taken to the little room came out without a bottom that stayed red for days.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Taking porn-girl to her limit: what Emily is up to

I'm finishing this one up, and because of the theme of the story, things just have to get more and more, well, porn-y.

Ben had meant to watch Stacy undress, but the scene on the couch took his attention away from that pretty sight to an even prettier one: apparently frustrated that she wouldn't get to spank Stacy for her slowness to undress, Peggy had put Julie on her knees, facing the back of the couch, while she stood and spanked Julie's little bottom red.

"Ow!" Julie said. "Not so hard! You promised!"

"That's not hard, sweetie," Peggy said. "You should feel what Pete gives me, if I spend too much on shoes!"

"Ben," Derek said, "can you get some of this on the handheld? I want Stacy's reactions, too, okay?"

Ben glanced over at where Stacy was slowly unbuttoning her sundress, with a look of fascinated alarm on her face as she watched Peggy spanking Julie. He took the handheld from Derek, and started to shoot video first of Stacy, chewing on her lip as she watched the spanking, and then of Peggy's hand rising and falling on Julie's backside, still sweetly covered by the black teddy. Of all the different kinds of sexy lingerie, Ben thought to himself, the teddy has to be the one that seems most like gift-wrapping.

He swung the camera back to Stacy, who was now naked, and had put her hands on her head, maybe just because she knew if she did that she couldn't be accused of disobedience. Despite the submissive posture, though, she flexed her knees, clearly to try to soothe away some of the heat in her pussy from the terribly naughty sight of the spanking that continued on the couch.

"Are you sure you don't want me to spank Stacy?" Peggy asked Derek and Ben, very coyly.

Julie's face was bent over all the way into the cushions at the back of the couch, and she was crying out with mingled discomfort and pleasure, as Peggy kept steadily spanking her, moving resolutely from cheek to cheek.

"Maybe later," said Ben. "Right now, I want her to open up the crotch of that sweet little teddy and show me she's ready to play panties-down games with the big girls." He turned to Stacy. "Are you ready to eat pussy, porn-girl?"

"Yes, sir," Stacy said softly.

"Go over there and show me, then." Ben followed her with the handheld as she walked slowly over, a shy smile on her face.

"Kiss Peggy first, a little," Derek said.

Ben got Peggy's smile, and then Stacy's very first girl-kiss. Stacy wanted to break it off early, but Peggy wouldn't let her, keeping her right arm around the younger girl's shoulders and bending down to kiss her smaller breasts, as Stacy gave a soft, questioning sigh at the strange feeling.

"Alright," Peggy murmured, stroking Julie's raised and presented bottom to show Stacy where her attention must now turn, "you've got some pussy to eat, sweetie. You'd better get started. Just unsnap her there, and show her that you can be a good friend."

Derek set the tripod up so that he could get a good angle on the action at Julie's rear-end.

Ben said, softly, to Julie, "Raise your face up, sweetheart, so I can see you."

"We're gonna have Peggy there, too," Derek said, "and Julie will go down on her while she gets it from Stacy. Then I think I'm going to fuck Stacy from behind, while her face is still in Julie's ass. Do you want to fuck Julie's face when Peggy's done there?"

Ben had to hand it to Derek--the guy was creative. "Sounds fine," he said.

Monday, March 2, 2015

"Mom knows I'm… special" #Taboo2sday

The whole story so far can be found here.

Lori-Anne blushed fiercely. "Y-yes," she stammered. "I mean, I told mom that… that I'd found someone."

Kay seemed to pick up on Lori-Anne's hesitation immediately. "Wait," she said sharply. "Your mama knows that you found a man, doesn't she? A real man?"

Lori-Anne looked down at her hands, in her lap where she sat on the leather seat of Kay's sporty SUV. "Mom knows I'm… special," she mumbled.

Kay laughed. "She just doesn't know how special? She doesn't know that you need a guy like my brother to take you in hand and tell you how it's going to be--how you're going to be his Christian bride, and his little whore?"

Keep the taboo-hopping going!






These maidens' legs will part this night…: Trained at the Castle

This excerpt will probably seem very mysterious--but I'm guessing you'll find the mystery rather hot, as well as intriguing.

After breakfast, as Aler had promised, the other castle girls took charge of Hala and Jas. They all wore blue cloaks over their castle-shifts, as Hala now learned the strange, pretty garment was called.

“You shall have one tomorrow evening,” said Yura, kindly, “to cover your belt.”

“Must we wear our belts for the rest of our lives?” Jas asked.

Yura laughed. She had come to fetch Hala and Jas from the table where they had just finished their cold mutton, bread and cheese. It was a simple repast, Hala realized, but she had never had so much upon her plate, nor so much time to enjoy it.

“No, sister,” Yura replied. “Only your first year or so, until you learn to control your pull and it lessens.”

“Lessens?” Hala asked.

Yura nodded. “Once you have been mastered the first time, it grows very much weaker, though the knights say that your fire does not become lower. No one knows exactly why that is.”

“But…” said Jenin, who had been introduced to Hala as “First Sister,” and who Yura had said was chambered with Sir Gol, knight of the first bench—though of course Hala had no idea what that meant. All eyes—and now all the castle girls had gathered round, apparently knowing that when Jenin and Yura came for the new girls, it was time to assemble—seemed fixed on Jenin.

Jenin looked about as if to assure herself that her sisters all attended her words. “But most of us think it is because once a knight has possessed you, your fire is bound to him in some way.”

Many of the crowd of girls nodded respectfully, but Yura said to Hala and Jas, pretending to be confidential though of course all the girls were listening, “Jenin knows, for we have discussed many a time, that this notion doesn’t explain why we give as much fire to any knight who masters us.”

Jenin smiled indulgently, and seemed about to make a well-worn reply. But Hala couldn’t contain her apprehension. “Any?” she squeaked.

“Yes,” Jenin said, “you will understand soon. But our bodies are for all the knights of the castle. When our chambered knight lends us to another for mastering, or a lord wishes to master us, we must obey, and go where we are told so that we may be properly punished and enjoyed. It is the will of the spirits, so that we can be made pure.”

Hala looked around at the gathered group of girls. Many of them had bowed their heads, and Hala remembered what Mistress Qual had said the day before about the proper place for a castle girl’s eyes being the floor. You will understand soon. Oh, how Hala wished that were true.

“At any rate,” Jenin continued, “I believe, as Yura knows, that when a knight first masters us, he does it in the name of the king, and so truly our fire is bound to the king, and through him to the realm.”

Now Hala could not help reciting, from the Book of Hazeran, “One king, one man, one realm, but many wicked girls for whipping.”

Jenin nodded approvingly. Jas said, aghast, “But that saying isn’t about real girls… sister said it is about binding the sheaves of grain, to ensure a fair harvest!” Jenin and Yura looked at her sympathetically. Jas turned red. “Are they all like that?” she asked.

Hala thought of the many, many passages of the Book of the Sages that referred to men and women: comparing, contrasting, describing the way men should exercise their authority, in order to please the spirits. She shared Jas’s horrified curiosity—surely all the sayings couldn’t be about… that thing in the mastering chamber.

But Yura nodded. “Yes,” she said simply. “All of them. That is why it is so good that we are here in the castle, where our naughtiness can be turned to good, through the great deeds of the knights—in the mastering chambers and out in the world, when they send their power—the power they draw from our wanton fires—into the realm.”

“Come,” Jenin said. “It is time.”

She and Yura formed up a long procession of all the girls, with Hala and Jas at the very end, and Yura and Jenin at the front. A blonde girl with her hair in braids, who stood just in front of the new girls in the double file, turned and said quickly to Hala and Jas, “Don’t worry, when we start singing. You will learn the song very quickly.”

And then Jenin did begin to sing. The song was a responsorial, like the ones that Hala knew from the house of the spirits back home in Thornwall: Jenin and Yura alternated chanting the verses, and the rest of the girls joined in at the refrain, as they processed out of the refectory to—according to what Aler had said—the Hall of the Spirits.

Sages three and spirits all, went the refrain, bless the chambering in your hall. As the blonde girl had said, it was very easy to pick up, and also, Hala thought, very lovely—especially sung in the two-part harmony that sent delicious, innocent chills down her spine. It made her shiver more, to think that everyone was singing about her and about Jas. It also made her feel terribly guilty about kissing Jas in the night, and the way they had rubbed their bound cunnies against one another’s thighs, and touched each other’s breasts, desperate to come despite the leather belts that should have reminded them to be good, for their lord and for their king.

The verses concerned the symbols of maidenly purity that Hala knew so well from the Book of the Spirits. Jenin sang, “These girls’ roses come to bloom. Grant them knights to pierce the gloom.” That must be a reference to Sage Gader’s saying, “A girl’s pure rose shines like a lamp in the darkness, to light the way for her lord’s footsteps.”

Yura sang, “These maidens’ legs will part this night, and each girl know a man’s true might.” Was that an allusion to Sage Fedan’s saying, “The power of a man must command his wife?” Hala felt a deep blush overspread her face as she sang the refrain,

Sages three and spirits all, bless the chambering in your hall.