Pound me in the butt, Paladin Danse!

(With apologies to the amazing Dr. Chuck Tingle.)

I'm going to start blogging again on a weekly basis. I'm taking the blog out of mothballs both because I feel like I should have a way to communicate with my readers regularly in a longer form than social media posts permit and because I think it will be fun to write some short things that start from something relatively serious (or at least non-erotic) and work their way to something hot.

I feel like I more or less completed the story of the "real" Emily – you know, if you happened to be a reader of this blog in the past, the one in italics – and so the perspective I adopt going forward will be that of the ultra dirty d/S authoress you know from my more recent books, like A Legacy of Dominance.

For this post I'm going to share something even more shameful than my fantasies of anal submission: I play video games.

I hope that if you've been able to forgive me for all the stuff about diapers and flogging you'll be able to forgive me for my obsession with Fallout 4. In any case, what I want to share with you today is my growing affection for and lust after a member of the Brotherhood of Steel named Paladin Danse. Paladin Danse has taken me under his wing and sponsored me for full membership in the Brotherhood of Steel, which came with a magnificently-beaten-up set of power armor.

Now, though, all I wish is that Danse would pull down the metal panties that must be part of the power armor (even though of course prudish Bethesda Software refuses to put them in my inventory) and give me an old-fashioned pre-apocalypse over-the-knee spanking the next time I inadvertently hit him with a Molotov cocktail. There are so many bombed-out offices in the wasteland of the Commonwealth (the post-nuclear setting based on metro-Boston of the game) and in every one of them there is a desk that Paladin Danse could lay me over after he's spanked my naughty bottom red and, gruffly informing me that it's necessary to my initiation as a sister of the Brotherhood of Steel, enter me switfly and fuck me as only a man in power armor can do.

Just a thought.

Another reason to write a weekly post is of course that I can tell you what I'm working on. Currently that's the seventh (or the sixth if you don't count A Punishment Exam for Jane) book of the Institute series, tentatively called Thoroughly Trained. It has a slightly more futuristic setting than past books of the series and it concerns what can happen to a girl whose data-profile shows that she is a repressed submissive, if she lives under a regime controlled almost entirely by corporations bent on making a profit from their data-analysis – especially if one of those corporations is a spinoff of the Institute.

Among other things, unlike in past days when the Institute had to wait for girls to discover that they needed the sort of consensual nonconsent that only the Institute could provide, in the new world of corporate big data girls like Anna Greenway may be taken directly to a trainer's apartment and deflowered, and all of it perfectly legal under the corporate acts of 2045 thanks to the Institute's stunning – if secret – track record of giving submissive girls exactly what they need, even if they can't admit it until after the fact.

Also, I might as well mention my new book, Assigned a Daddy.

After eighteen-year-old Darla Hawkins is caught shoplifting, she is sentenced to spend six months in the custody of former marine colonel Mike Beckwith, who will act as her daddy and disciplinarian during that time. Mike is more than ready to be as firm as necessary, and when Darla doesn’t obey him promptly during their first meeting he wastes no time in baring her bottom, pulling her over his knee, and spanking her until she’s a very sorry little girl.

Darla quickly discovers that a spanking is far from the most humiliating punishment Mike is prepared to employ when she fails to do as she is told, and before long she has lost the privilege of wearing big girl panties. Her daddy putting her in diapers is more embarrassing than anything she has ever imagined, yet to her shame it also leaves her intensely aroused. Her shame only increases when Mike decides that some very special training is required to deal with her repeated disobedience, and she soon learns that even her most intimate places belong to her daddy.

Though his disciplinary techniques frequently leave her with blushing cheeks and a sore bottom, Mike’s caring guidance and loving attention help Darla blossom in a way she never could have before, and she grows closer to him with each passing day. But will she be left on her own when her sentence is completed, or will her daddy find a way to keep his little girl at his side forever?