Emily in Service #SatSpanks

This is an excerpt from the 20th book of EXPLORATIONS, Emily in Service, which came out on Kindle this week. It's, um, very naughty. There are a couple of spankings, but (caveat lector) they're in and among a very large amount of (IMHO) scorching hot BDSM sex, with trimmings like schoolgirl ageplay and watersports.

Then I felt a rush of air, and heard a crack right next to my ear, and felt Sarah's bottom tense next to me, and heard her cry out, all at almost the same moment. My eyes flew open to see the leather paddle being pulled away from Sarah's bottom.  

CRACK! It struck again. Sarah sobbed. "Please, sir. . ." she said, "I'll try harder. . . I promise!" CRACK! Seeing the paddle strike so close to my face was, to my horror, intoxicating. Sarah's bottom jiggled delightfully as she tried in vain to ease the sting of the spanking.

Here's the blurb:

 "When I saw the rocking-horse, I was instantly sure that Charles had found a kinky carpenter somewhere. The rocking-horse was astonishingly beautiful, in the colorful style of a carousel pony (though it was much smaller, so that, presumably, a man might stand conveniently behind a girl who rode it)."

The 20th book of Explorations concludes the "Sarah" books with two scenes from fantasy-Emily's polygamous household: Emily's and Sarah's "benching day," when fantasy-Charles, as their "Headmaster," enjoys them both exactly as he pleases; and a day of lewd service for them, at Charles' command, to two strangers in masks. The identity of those strangers, revealed in part at the end of the book, will change the course of all their lives.

This book of Explorations contains fiction elaborating the following sorts of fantasy that you may wish to avoid: Mf, Mff, MMff, anal, spanking, ageplay, watersports. It's intended for over-18 audiences who, like me, are interested in exploring the lines between pleasure and pain, dominance and submission, and fantasy and reality. All characters depicted are consenting adults.

 Here's the link to buy: Emily in Service. For more information about the crazy EXPLORATIONS project, click on the link!

Check out all the Saturday Spankings!

Fantasizing "Sarah" (in re spanking one's best friend)

(Now that I'm doing other things besides these story-posts, I'll start linking up the different bits of the story so that you can find earlier episodes more easily. This post continues on from this previous one; in the story-posts I'm currently narrating the process by which the books of EXPLORATIONS came into their naughty existence. If you want the whole story, start here.)

(Parts of this post appear in Emily's Naughty Classmate. I hope that makes you want to buy that book!)

Then. Then there was "Sarah." I've spent a really long time thinking about why I became fixated on her in the time just around my wedding. She was my maid of honor, and it had been a while since we'd gotten to spend any time together. She's a producer for network TV in New York, and whenever we're together I feel five times cooler and ten times smarter than I do at any other time. I was also floating on a cloud of erotic energy, and constantly thinking about possible new ways to play, because Charles' and my Saturdays had started to assume a recognizable pattern--one that I loved, but which, as a pattern, seemed to be putting us in danger of staleness, down the road.

It was under those circumstances that I started to fantasize about Sarah in a way I never had before. I added the material about her that's now part of the first three books of EXPLORATIONS. Then I started writing the stuff that became Emily's Best Friend, Emily's Naughty Classmate, and Emily's Sister-Wife. The hotness of that material frightened me, frankly. (Charles loved it, I knew, from the way he would read over my shoulder every night, but I think he could tell that I was troubled by what was flowing from my keyboard. So he was guarded in the way he responded to that material in our play. For example, if I threw out "Please, Sir, tell me how you'd fuck Sarah," to see how it felt, he'd hem and haw, and say something like "I'd fuck her really hard?" [I suppose the question-mark is a bit unfair to him, but only a bit.])

The fantasies about Sarah may be the only time ethics really got in the way of my fantasy-life since the day I read Story of O and really started to work on the problem. I pride myself--absolutely pride myself, at this point--on being able to justify every fantasy I actually act on, whether to play with myself to it or to play it out with Charles as a piece of fiction that produces a kind of erotic catharsis. If, in a worst case scenario, I can't stop thinking about some horrific mass-rape, I transform it, usually through the very same lewd keyboard I'm using for this account of myself right now, into something defensible.

(Two techniques for that are my standbys. Either: 1) it's all about me, and I'm the victim of the sex crimes, taking upon myself the sexual aggression of the men of the world, and triumphing over it or, in truly Réagean fashion, succumbing to it and undergoing annihilation in the end [the first time I fantasized my death was jarring, but so was the first time I fantasized eating shit]; or 2) everybody's been through an extensive BDSM selection process à la "Anne Rice writing as AN Roquelaure" [or à la my own Prophettown--see especially Emily and the Lusts of Prophettown]. The latter is easier, but it gets old after a while.)

But having fantasies about someone you love to whom you can never confess those fantasies doesn't really get softened by changing her name. It was particularly strange because I'd never been fixated on any real person at all before in an erotic (as opposed to a romantic "I want him to be my boyfriend/knight-in-shining-armor" way), except Charles in the months when we were dating, before our trip to New York. In some strange and utterly unexpected way, I had fallen in love with Sarah.

Did it have something to do with Jacqueline in Story of O? Jacqueline is a glamorous, top-tier model while O is a second-tier (or so I read it) photographer. Sarah was a New York TV producer while I was a currently unemployed, and really never to be glamorously employed, baby lawyer. O eventually is more than happy to deliver Jacqueline up to René and her sister Natalie to Sir Stephen. I was becoming more than happy to abuse myself while thinking of having Sarah over my knee, over the pillows, grabbing her ankles, while I held the paddle--or while Charles did, and I watched, and then. . . 

Whether I was right to see the link or not, the possibility had started to direct my fantasies, and I was fantasizing Sarah as my junior training-partner and, worse, junior-wife. And that's how we got to the scene I narrate at the end of Emily's Naughty Classmate (though I'm getting just a bit ahead of myself here):

Finally, one night, I went tearfully and knelt in front of Charles, where he was reading in his throne. "Sir?" I asked. "I want to confess." It's a very good way to say that I want to improvise a scene, of course, and has that lovely hint of the sacred, too. I had put on my most schoolgirlish outfit: blue skirt, white blouse, white cotton panties, black thigh-highs, and flats. Really it's nearly the same outfit you'll see Sarah and me in in the next book.

Charles had been so absorbed in his book that he hadn't noticed me disappearing or what I had come back in wearing, so when he looked up to find a tearful schoolgirl at his knee, his distracted expression quickly changed to surprise and, then, interest. I've learned that calling him "Sir" has just about the same lubricious effect on him that his calling me "ass-wife" has on me, so his interest was already rising higher, as it were, presumably at the thought that the schoolgirl's bottom would soon be bare, and subject to his authority.

He put his hand out to stroke my hair, in that wonderfully degrading way, a way fit for dogs, that drives me wild. Truthfully, I didn't know what exactly I was looking for except a hard, hard spanking for writing my best friend and me into the position in which we find ourselves at the end of this book. Part of me thought that I shouldn't be aroused; that part was distressed at the ache in my loins to which Charles' stroking my hair had given rise. Another part of me thought that the only way to put some kind of boundary on these fantasies was to frame them inside my play with Charles, and to let Charles' sexual discipline of me for them, and for my elaborating them in writing, somehow transmute them into a healthy part of our sex life--or at least as healthy as any part of a sex life so twisted as ours can ever be.

It's all in the shadows of Emily in Service (a spanking story)

The inspiration for the first half of this book came from a scene at the end of the book that even more than The Pearl shaped my pre-Story of O fantasies, Richard Manton's Aphrodizzia, which I discovered so climactically (heh) in Sarah's father's desk. I worked hard to add the perspective of the girls over the bench, but really the only saving grace of the crime against my sex I've perpetrated in that scene is perhaps the addition of a contest between fantasy-Sarah and fantasy-me, though that contest is in itself terribly (wonderfully) degrading.

The second half of the book is plot-driven, and I don't want to give it away, but in its basic outline it's a fairly standard, if watersports-adorned, MMff BDSM scene, with the twist at the end.

Blurb (the excerpt at the top is from the awarding of the prize to the winner of the contest):

"When I saw the rocking-horse, I was instantly sure that Charles had found a kinky carpenter somewhere. The rocking-horse was astonishingly beautiful, in the colorful style of a carousel pony (though it was much smaller, so that, presumably, a man might stand conveniently behind a girl who rode it)."

The 20th book of Explorations concludes the "Sarah" books with two scenes from fantasy-Emily's polygamous household: Emily's and Sarah's "benching day," when fantasy-Charles, as their "Headmaster," enjoys them both exactly as he pleases; and a day of lewd service for them, at Charles' command, to two strangers in masks. The identity of those strangers, revealed in part at the end of the book, will change the course of all their lives.

This book of Explorations contains fiction elaborating the following sorts of fantasy that you may wish to avoid: Mf, Mff, MMff, anal, spanking, ageplay, watersports. It's intended for over-18 audiences who, like me, are interested in exploring the lines between pleasure and pain, dominance and submission, and fantasy and reality. All characters depicted are consenting adults.

NOTE: The books of Explorations are short, but are almost entirely BDSM sex. For the softer side that fills in the romantic bits, read Emily's blog!

The Explorations series is a unique take on BDSM above all because of the strong individual voice of Emily Tilton herself, manifestly shaping the fantasy-elaborations of the series. Because Emily is interested in helping herself and others understand how BDSM can be lived within a mostly vanilla existence, the way most of us have to live it, Explorations has a unique element that Emily hopes will set it apart and make it useful: Emily has created a fantasy-version of herself (keeping to the tropes of the genre she knows so well, fantasy-Emily is an eighteen-year-old virginal bride with a self-abuse "problem"), whose fantasies and "realities" are the central subject of the stories of Explorations--but the real Emily also keeps her authorial, real voice in the margins, explaining and analyzing, and revealing from time to time the much more mundane, real version of the things Emily has transformed in the story of her fantasy-self. This doubling of the "I" in the first-person narrative of Explorations makes the series worth exploring all on its own. Come for the hot, dark, edgy, D/s, spanking, anal action. Stay for the exploration.

Another silly cover reveal! Emily in Service

UPDATE: Emily in Service is here! Click on the link! Go ahead, I dare you!

So, reader, I've decided that your constitution is strong enough to handle marketing posts like this one. Here's the way I think it will go down from now on ("go down"--heh): 

Twice a week, usually Tuesday and Friday, I'll publish one of my rambling things about how EXPLORATIONS came to be, and the fun stuff Charles and I do in our BDSM play, and how it all changed over the years, and how really it's all OK from a philosophical and psychological point of view, and how we all just need to stop worrying and enjoy our kinks. 

(I actually messed up and published yesterday the post about Prophettown that was supposed to come out today, but that's fine, because it means I can do this awesome cover reveal today.)

Other days I'll occasionally (OK, maybe frequently) venture to share this sort of thing, which makes me feel like I'm telling you what's up with this strangely-slow-to-flower career as a BDSM author. Also, that lets me participate in such fun stuff as the Saturday Spankings, which I'll do for the first time this week!

So, the cover reveal. Yeah. Well, if this is your first Emily Tilton cover reveal, you may be shocked. It's all in the shadows. Think about that.

Here's your scorching hot, blog-exclusive excerpt (best to stop here if you're faint of heart, especially about anal):

I shook my head, despite myself. I saw his right hand move to get something, heard the air moving, then felt it, and the paddle: CRACK. "Ah, no. . . oh, please, Charles. . ." CRACK. "It's--I--" CRACK.

I opened my mouth, and took the Sarah-stained cock into it. I looked up, into his eyes, and saw a savage lust in them that made me try to grind my hips against the bench in search of release. CRACK. "Don't try that, you little whore," Charles said. "Don't. . ." CRACK, but weaker, because he was coming in torrents inside my mouth, in my hair, on my nose and cheeks.

Here's the blurb:

 "When I saw the rocking-horse, I was instantly sure that Charles had found a kinky carpenter somewhere. The rocking-horse was astonishingly beautiful, in the colorful style of a carousel pony (though it was much smaller, so that, presumably, a man might stand conveniently behind a girl who rode it)."

The 20th book of Explorations concludes the "Sarah" books with two scenes from fantasy-Emily's polygamous household: Emily's and Sarah's "benching day," when fantasy-Charles, as their "Headmaster," enjoys them both exactly as he pleases; and a day of lewd service for them, at Charles' command, to two strangers in masks. The identity of those strangers, revealed in part at the end of the book, will change the course of all their lives.

This book of Explorations contains fiction elaborating the following sorts of fantasy that you may wish to avoid: Mf, Mff, MMff, anal, spanking, ageplay, watersports. It's intended for over-18 audiences who, like me, are interested in exploring the lines between pleasure and pain, dominance and submission, and fantasy and reality. All characters depicted are consenting adults.

Prophettown (introduction to a fantasy-land of universal spanking)

The Tales of Prophettown (see Emily, Ravished by Porn, for their beginning point in the books of EXPLORATIONS) began as a separate project, one which didn't have anything of an overt narrative nature that was connected to me. The kernel was two hotnesses, as I suppose I tend to think at the most basic level of the erotic narrative dynamics that get me wet. 

(If you wanted me to, I could do something elaborate and psychoanalytic on that; castration and the assumption thereof, jouissance and supplementarity, desire as opposed to need--but that stuff has an amazing ability to turn hotness into boredom. There was a time when I thought if I could outline every one of my hotnesses and analyze each of them in turn in terms of castration I would, à la Freud's dream of the talking cure, be free of them all and able to live a healthy, chaste, productive life. [I guess my plan was carefully to except vanilla sex from the hotnesses of which I was curing myself, so that I could take a little pleasure--not too much, mind you--in my eventual husband's colonization of my womb for the purpose of reproduction.] Thank God it turned out to be folly--it turned out that the best I could do was develop a set of tropes for future narrative elaboration--always of course accompanied by further, unending self-abuse.)

The two hotnesses that gave birth to Prophettown were of an innocent girl being awakened to sexuality by reluctant porn-viewing (most often, when I go back to this well for some inchoate day-dream style fantasization, it's a young wife whose husband has decided that their vanilla marriage isn't satisfying; his solution is to bring home some porn and make his innocent bride watch it, all the while telling her that she's going to have to undergo this and that of what she's seeing while she, horrified but aroused in spite of herself, protests. Spanking can be added at this point, if I haven't already come, but usually the husband telling her that he's going to fuck her ass gets me where I need to go.) and of a wedding-night in a strict religious community where the bride is both completely innocent and entirely under the authority of her new husband. Together these hotnesses yield the "training video" The Prophet's Way: the Marriage Bed, described in Emily, Ravished by Porn and Emily's Sacred Porn.

To explain the Tales of Prophettown, I should confess that in their original versions, they were the kind of thing a BDSM writer can write for her own purposes but which for ethical (and marketing) reasons she could never publish. To put it succinctly, there was no consent-structure in place: the brides of Prophettown were young and they were not given the chance to refuse their bridegrooms' demands.

Because he enjoyed the material so much, and wanted to see it elaborated further, Charles suggested that I try to integrate it with the story of fantasy-Emily and fantasy-Charles. That's how the second half of Emily, Ravished by Porn and then the entireties of Emily's Sacred Porn and Emily and the Lusts of Prophettown came about, all of which are transcriptions of action from the "training-video" interspersed mostly with "reactions" (one-handed reactions, if you know what I mean) from fantasy-me. In the course of integrating that material, I developed the idea of Prophettown being a community of consenting BDSM adults, I think mostly because I had framed the fantasy-us story as something potentially-publishable. It turned out to be a very interesting challenge to make everyone eighteen and unrelated, and to make everything they did consensual.

The result was Prophettown as you find it in EXPLORATIONS so far. The narrative is about to return there in what I hope will be an unexpected way, too, now that it's established in the world of fantasy-us that Prophettown probably exists somewhere in their "reality."

In any case, the process of writing the Tales of Prophettown that grew out of the initial idea of the D/s DD training video was interesting, and the process of transforming it into the findings of fantasy-me's research even more so. There was something about the characters and their town that made me want to know more about them. Was Chuck really that awful? Was Barbara a switch, or a top who was pretending to be a sub?

The whole thing was complicated by the fact that Prophettown had started its existence as a non-consensual sort of place, which meant that the characters' motivations had to be changed pretty severely. In the end that provided some nice insights into the meaning and operation of my own BDSM orientation, and especially into the way my fantasies relate on the one hand to the things I play out with Charles and on the other to the things I do in the real world, where rape and exploitation are real things that I fight against with every fiber of my being.

TEASE: Three #spankingstory authors to be disciplined together Monday!

UPDATE: Here is is, in all its figgy glory!

Like all literary figures who hope to share their great thoughts on such recondite matters as ontology, epistemology, and incredibly hot spankings, I've been thinking a great deal about social media lately. In the process of that thinking, I enlisted the help of two of the lights of the smut-firmament, Renee Rose and Sheri Savill. 

Renee gave Sheri and me some sage advice about the use of certain. . . special words. Well, Sheri and I went a little overboard in attempting to launch our little barques on the seas of eroticism, and we all paid for it. . . 

Our fun little collaborative #spankingstory about what happened, especially the #figging, will be up on RomancingtheKink on Monday!

Re-writing my sex-life (another spanking story about spanking stories)

So I wrote the story of our night of nights as if it were the real wedding-night of an eighteen-year-old fantasy-Emily. There was something about re-writing my erotic life that felt exhilarating: writing myself as more innocent than I ever was, really, since reading The Pearl on the ferry, and making Charles' cock the first real cock I had ever seen, while at the same time intimating the extremity of my submissive nature in the story of my discovery of porn, gave me the feeling that in writing this for Charles I could make him a love-offering that would really show him what was in my heart. 

I've never really felt bad about the five guys I slept with before him, nor is it really an issue for him, but both of us are very much bound into our fantasy-lives, and relatively traditional in our tastes, so, by way of the kind of fantasy-wish that you know can never be fulfilled and wouldn't be a good thing even if it were fulfilled, I often wish that I had come to his bed a pure, innocent virgin, to be instructed in the ways of pleasing a man.

The funny thing is maybe that when I wrote the first version of Emily's Submissive Wedding Night I tried to make fantasy-Emily completely innocent, but it just didn't work. The line between ravishment and that other thing is authentic but unstated consent. The only way I could find to make virginal Emily consent interestingly was to give her a kick-ass fantasy-life before her marriage.

(I should say that it was pretty easy to make her consent uninterestingly--like this:

I felt so funny between my legs; it was strange and new, but I was sure that whatever Charles wanted to do to me there would be wonderful.

See what I mean? The words "strange" and "new" would have had a workout, but without much explanatory, or erotic, effect.)

For related reasons--that is, wanting to experience something I hadn't gotten to experience in the original version of events, I wrote the first versions of Emily's First Submission and Emily's First Spanking from Charles' perspective. As far as I can tell, the core of my submissive nature is the desire to be used--that is, to be treated as an object. 

Most of the time, when I write for Charles and for my own purposes of exploration (this includes when I'm writing to get myself off, of course), I like to write from my own perspective as sub, or from the perspective of another sub, because the paradox of willing the surrender of one's own will appears very piquantly when told from the point of view of the one who's surrendering. There's a certain perfection of objectification, though, that can't be achieved that way: the only way to make myself perfectly usable is to narrate myself as an object and not as a person. To see fantasy-Emily as the pure object of Charles' dominant lust was a wonderful, if very dark and even disturbing at times, adventure in erotic writing. Indeed, for me the only definition of "sexy" that really gets any traction over the concept is "fit for objectification"--that is, I think that there is no arousal, and no sex, without the feeling of using and being used by the other.

The huge region of my sexuality that's devoted to spanking (call it "Spankopolis" to continue my hackneyed but also time-honored exploring-metaphor) is a really interesting place from that perspective. From my earliest memories of spanking fantasies, spanking took shape as an act that's intended to teach a lesson. That is, it's not on the surface of it a use of the erotic object, but rather, in appearance at least, a strange form of communication. If I write, for example, in Emily's First Spanking

"Emily, if you will not tell me what I asked, there is nothing else for it. You must be punished. You must lie over the arm of the sofa, Emily, and learn a lesson."

"Oh, Charles! Oh, sir! Oh. . . p--please. . . P--please don't. . . d--don't spank me. . ." 

"If you will not obey me, my dear, I have no choice. Now lay yourself down, and don't make a fuss. A grown-up girl like you needs to learn what happens when she disobeys her husband."

the hotness comes from the way fantasy-Charles is taking fantasy-Emily in hand, and telling her that whether she likes it or not she is going to feel his justice on her backside until said backside blushes crimson. It doesn't seem like the reason reading that passage makes me, well, moist is that I'm thinking about being used for Charles' pleasure.

But, since I'm getting all philosophical, I want suggest that that obfuscation is precisely the magic of spanking that has so many of us spankos yearning to be over an authoritative knee. After long years of thinking about my BDSM orientation, I've decided that, at least for me, spanking actually exposes the very essence of how objectification produces pleasure for both top and bottom. It is a communication, but it's a communication with oneself: I am spanked because I am a little girl/naughty wife/slut/sub; and, I think, on the other side, for the top, I spank because I am a husband/Dom/Master. In the classic mode of the fetish, it transfers the objectification that's at the heart of the erotic to another register, the register of spanking that we spankos know and love so well: the hand, the hairbrush, the paddle, the cane, knickers down, corner-time, six of the best, "Hands!". (If you're like me, even those words, bare of context, made you damp just now.) Spankopolis has its own language, and that language puts us in our arousing places just as sex itself does.

To put it another way, I think spanking is a kind of pure erotic mode of communication. That mode is terribly bound up in our hangups about childhood and school and family, of course, which is what raises the basic hotness to fever-pitch, but that basic hotness comes I think from the same place the rest of my submissive orientation does: when Charles spanks me he is telling me that I am his wife (there's the objectification!), and he gets to spank his wife, just as he gets to enjoy her in any other way he pleases. Excuse me while I do some private exploration.