Dominance and submission – Twelve Hours – Part Three – #ASMSG #BDSM

The collar from Harrods was around my neck, leash attached, and the seductive purple corset graced my body. Black satin panties, hose and shoes were the only other articles of clothing permitted, and I was standing in the middle of a fetish club, the likes of which I could never have imagined.

Corset:stockings copy


A man wrapped in plastic wrap from head to foot, his eyes and mouth the only visible signs that he was actually human, laid on the floor next to the cloakroom. Glossy latex was everywhere, extreme costumes abounded, and mixed between the absurd and insane were couples like Sir and me, but a mixture of gender – and genders – in every combination one could conceive.


While the evening was an extraordinary experience in and of itself, it was the last half hour that held the magic.

At the far end of the ‘Playroom’ – a large open space filled with all manner of BDSM furniture – was a ballerina bar. After watching the various activities it was where Sir chose to take me. I found myself bent at the waist, my wrists tied to the pole.

The light was dim and he began caressing my backside, occasionally brushing between my legs. It was all very tantalizing and I closed my eyes surrendering to the intoxicating play.  It was only a few minutes later, when I opened them, that I discovered another submissive was tied next to me, and only about ten feet away.

She was very pretty, dressed in her own provocative corset, and I glanced over my shoulder to view her Dominant. It was difficult to make out his features in the semi-darkness, but his head lifted in acknowledgement. My eyes darted back to her and she caught my gaze – holding it – locking my eyes.

A sound smack made me gasp, but my connection to her was not broken, and so began a mesmerizing interlude. She and I were completely connected in a sublime state, and as our Dominants spanked and teased we held our gaze, the electric energy passing between us almost tangible.

I never wanted it to end, and when her wrists were untied and she was led away, I felt as though I had just lost a best friend. Sir must have instinctively felt my loss. He freed me immediately, engulfing me in a warm, wondrous soothing embrace.

I never knew her name, but I believed then, and still in memory, that the magic we shared would have been tainted by something so mundane. She will always be with me. She was a Princess who was the crowning end to a perfect twelve hours.

Often I wonder – if she thinks of me.

Was I the Princess for the end of her perfect evening? I like to think so.

Dungeon Crawl – The Cowboy From Down Under Cont’d – #ASMSG – #BDSM

Welcome to the decadent delights of the Dungeon Crawl Blog Hop.


Pasted below is a continuation of the last excerpt from my latest release,


DownUndereBook-2 small size

Emma Harrison, a strong-willed, daredevil photographer, is in Australia to shoot some thrilling photographs for a new coffee table book. Derrick Palmer has been assigned the task of keeping her safe in the dangerous New South Wales outback, a task he takes very seriously. In this excerpt, their relationship has developed, and Dominant cowboy Derrick wants to see just how submissive Emma Harrison, the supposedly tough and determined, woman, truly is.

Emma moved across to her suitcase. He’d placed it on an antique steamer trunk against the wall, and as she opened the lid she could feel the insistent rubbing of the satin ribbon.

Ooooh, this is so sexy. I feel so…controlled…in such a strangely wonderful way.

Finding a fresh pair of jeans, she pulled them on, zipped them up, and had lifted out a bra when he came up behind her.

“Your choice, but I would really like it if you didn’t wear that.”

“But, my nipples?”

“You worried they might show a bit?” he whispered, his mouth at her ear.


“Would that bother you, or turn you on?”

“I, uh, don’t know.”

“Up to you, but maybe you’d like to find out the answer to that question.”

He moved away to finish dressing, and Emma stared down at the neatly packed clothes in her suitcase. She had a checked blouse that she sometimes wore without a bra. The pattern made it a little less obvious if her nipples should pucker, and delighted that she’d brought it she pulled it out.

Covertly watching her from his closet, he saw her don the blouse sans her bra. He smiled, relieved that she’d chosen to do as he’d asked. Emma had a reputation as a tough, controlling, demanding perfectionist who had to be in charge, but it was obvious to Derrick that she was a soft, yielding submissive, and had been aching for the right man to whom she could surrender.


Dominance and submission – Twelve Perfect Hours – Part Two #ASMSG


It was where we were supposed to be going for lunch.  And we did have lunch, but there was a very sexy, embarrassing surprise waiting for me.

After eating in the immense dining hall He suggested we pop upstairs and have a wander around.  I trustingly followed  like the obedient little subbie that I was and we ended up in the pet department.  We had only been there a minute or two when He approached the young woman behind the cash register.

“Excuse me,” He said in his oh, so, polite British accent, putting His arm around my shoulder.  “Would you please direct me to the collars and leashes.  I need to find something pretty for my pet here.”

Of course I knew exactly what He meant and I felt my face flame red.  But the young woman had no clue and looked down at the floor, obviously expecting to find some kind of critter at His feet.

“No – this pet – here,” He declared, gently moving me in front of Him.

I’m not sure who was the more embarrassed, but I didn’t see her face turn red and I knew mine was absolutely scarlet.  She giggled and pointed to the far wall.

“Seriously?” I asked Him under my breath as we made our way through the narrow aisles.

His only response was a raised eyebrow.

Ok – so seriously then!

For the following, endless, ten minutes, He proceeded to place various collars around my neck as fellow shoppers wandered by.  Some broke into broad smiles, others tittered and hurried away, but I became less and less concerned about them and more restless from the ever-growing wetness between my legs.

When He finally selected the one He liked best, purple with rhinestones to match the corset, He had me wear it back to the register – and for the rest of the time in the store.  Thankfully the leash was not attached.

During the drive back to his house He showered me with compliments.  The collar was perfect and would be even more perfect when put together with the corset and leash.  It wasn’t until we were safely home that He dropped his little bomb.

“Tonight you we are going out – and guess what you’ll be wearing?”
“But where can I wear a corset and collar?”
“You’ll find out when we get there.   I assume you have a long, warm coat?”
“Uh huh!”
“And to help you get ready – and make sure you have a nice nap after our busy day – please follow me.”

Leading up the stairs He took me into a guest bedroom and proceeded to remove my clothes, and after briefly toying with me, laid a warm blanket across my naked body and told me to nap.

Nap?  Sure!   Sure I’m going to nap.  My sex is wet and wanting, I’m to be taken to some mysterious place where I will be dressed in only a corset and collar – and let’s not forget on a leash – and I’m going to nap!

Surprisingly I did, though not for very long.  And what happened that night I could never have anticipated.


Dominance and submission – Twelve Perfect Hours – #ASMSG

I originally posted this back in October of 2012.  Reading it made me smile, and I decided to share it once again.

He lived in London.  I lived in Southern California.

It was exciting, glamorous and romantic.  We would meet in exotic cities across Europe and in the US.  Paris, Berlin, London, New York, Washington DC, to name a few.

It was also depressing, frustrating and difficult.

But in the midst of the ups and downs, disappointments and thrills, I experienced what few have.

Twelve Perfect Hours

This story must be told in three parts because there was a beginning, a middle and an end, and each deserve their own post.

London.  Late morning.  October – Rain!

Driving in His sexy BMW Roadster, twisting and turning through endless streets to the outskirts of London, I knew something was afoot.  He had suggested as much in His subtle half smile, and once or twice I caught Him staring at me with a look I could not decipher.

The rain had lessened somewhat when we pulled to a stop in a narrow one way street.  Taking my hand and walking swiftly through the drizzle, He refused to answer my questions as He led me towards a one story concrete building – no windows – just a large, foreboding black door sporting a rather formidable black iron knocker.  But He didn’t rap – just pushed – and the door squeaked open.  I found myself staring into a very serious BDSM supply store.

I had never seen anything like it (not that I had been to many BDSM supply stores) and haven’t since.  It had anything and everything imaginable – from specialty furniture items to clothing to all manner of vibrators and dildos – in one very large open space.  Two muscled, tall, leather dressed men stood behind a counter, arms crossed, smiling but clearly not to be messed with.

In the center of the room were a number of circular racks each offering something different, but I  remember the contents of only one.  It held nothing but paddles and straps.  Every shape, size, thickness and color.  He placed his arm around my waist and guided me towards it.

A warning bell went off in my head.  I sensed, I knew what was coming but couldn’t quite believe it…

“Place your hands on the chrome pole, please.”

He couldn’t mean to…

“Please don’t make me repeat myself.”


Curling my fingers around the cold polished steel I could feel my pulse hammering in my temples.   My mind flashed back to the morning when He had picked me up at my hotel.  I was in jeans and He had told me to change into a skirt and boots, insisting on thigh highs.  I didn’t think anything of it at the time —  !!

“Close your eyes, please.”

I could hear the high-pitched scraping of hangers.

Oh my God – he’s selecting

I held my breath.  I felt my skirt lift – the air whispering against the back of upper thighs, my black lace panties exposed for the gaze of any pair of wandering eyes.  My face flushed furiously as I  imagined the burly men across the store, standing behind the counter watching, enjoying, then hoped frantically that they were still there and hadn’t wandered silently over to see the view from another, more intimate angle.

“Let’s try this one shall we?”

He was so calm – so controlled – so -

- and it hit, the sound sparking through my ears as the sting bit my flesh.  I clenched my teeth and gripped the bar with all my might.  I did not want to yelp – to cry out – to make a sound.

“Not quite right.”

How long… oh God not again?

Scraping of hangers -

“This looks better.

The wide paddle touched my backside before He rose it in the air and let it land with a thud – a different, heavier pain – a different, heavier sound.  I grunted – and stamped a foot.

“No.  The first one I think.  What do you think, Maggie?  The first or second?  Or would you like me to try a third?”

“First,” I stammered, though how I was able to speak I still do not know.

The skirt fell.

“Stay there.”

Was I embarrassed?  Mortified? Oh yes!

Did I feel incredibly alive?  Tingling? Excited?  Oh yes!

Was there anywhere in the world I would rather have been?  No, no, no!

Moments later I heard Him talking softly, conversing with the deep voice of, I assumed, one of the men.  I waited.  And waited.  I could hear noises, other people talking, giggling – were they giggling at me?  Standing there, slightly bent over, holding the pole?

“You may open your eyes.”

Relief flooded through me as He put His arms around my shoulders.

“Come with me my sweetheart.”

Next stop – a dressing room.  Inside were three corsets, each a different style.  White, black and purple.  He lovingly helped me try each, accidentally on purpose touching between my legs, brushing a nipple or stroking down my back, until a selection was made.  The purple.

Standing at the counter as He made the purchase I couldn’t stand still.  The heat from the paddles had permeated my sex and my being was itchy for attention.  Mr. Muscle caught my eye and a brand new scarlet flush traveled up my neck and across my face.

He saw – He smiled – He took my hand and we left.

I think about that place often.  And those men.  I think about that short 45 minutes – how absolutely perfect it was.  How I wanted to circle the store and touch everything.  How I wanted to provocatively position myself on the various pieces of exotic furniture.  How I would have gladly stayed and stayed, and asked those men a million questions.

And I recall how I had no idea it was just the beginning …

Dominance and submission – Sat Spanks – #ASMSG #SPANKS


Delighted to rejoin this blog hop.

Available Now At Your Favorite Bookseller


A Dominant Aussie Cowboy

A Feisty Photographer

The Dangerous Outback

DownUndereBook-2 small size

Emma Harrison, a strong-willed, daredevil photographer, is in Australia to shoot some thrilling photographs for a new coffee table book. Derrick Palmer has been assigned the task of keeping her safe in the dangerous New South Wales outback, a task he takes very seriously. In this excerpt, their relationship has developed, and Dominant cowboy Derrick wants to see just how submissive Emma Harrison, the supposedly tough and determined, woman, truly is.

(I snuck in a short, 9th Line, sorry, does that mean nine swats?)

This scene follows directly from the last post I made about this yummy spanking cowboy from Australia.  If you missed it, the link is here:

“What’s with you Aussie men?” she howled.

“I can’t speak for anyone but myself,” he answered, “and now my hand is going to do the talking for me. I’ll stop spanking when you say one of two things. Either you want me to take you back to Sydney, or you agree that I’m in charge,” and lifting his hand he began landing a series of hard smacks across her bottom.

Emma was wearing thin cotton khaki pants that provided little protection from his large, hot, swatting palm, and it wasn’t long before her squirming began in earnest.

“Dammit, let me go!” she demanded. “You have no right to do this.”

“Then you agree to do what you’re told?” he pressed, pausing to let her consider the question.

“But if I’m-”

Reaching down he retrieved a short, fat stick, and began delivering hard licks in quick succession, the rod landing mercilessly across her backside.

“Back to Sydney or I’m in charge, what’s it to be?” demanded, continuing to remit the stinging stick.

“Okay, you’re in charge,” she howled. “Stop!”


Thanks for reading, and I hope you have time to swing by the other writers who are participating in this week’s naughty, spanky, hop.

D/s – One Republic – “Counting Stars” – #ASMSG

I feel something so right,

doing the wrong thing.

I feel something so wrong

doing the right thing.


For many years she lived the lie,

‘There is no difference between you and I.’

The vanilla world swirled at her feet,

while waiting for The Man she’d meet.

Pretending to care as kisses she spent,

so many kisses came, and then went.

The kind, the loyal, the sweet and the smart,

not one of the ordinary could capture her heart.

How could she explain, “I don’t want your ring,

I need your hard hand if you want me to sing.

I need your flogger, your ropes and your heat,

to hasten my pulse, and make my heart beat.

I need your courage, your strength, and your wondrous arms,

to wrap me up tight, and expose all my charms.

Only then is there freedom, only then will I fly,

shrouded in love, to the glorious sky.

I feel something so right,

doing the wrong thing.

I feel something so wrong

doing the right thing.


SatSpanks Blog Hop – Excerpt – The Spanking Psychiatrist – #ASMSG #SPANKING

Welcome to my eight paragraph excerpt from, The Spanking Psychiatrist.  I have heard that some thought this book is just about a Doctor who spanks his patients. Perhaps this excerpt might show, in a small, snippety way, that it’s soooo much more than that. (Though he most certainly does, spank his patients!!)  

This scene takes place in a cabin far from town, where he has taken a nefarious woman who threatens to harm those he loves.

SP Cover copy


Having positioned her across two pillows in the center of the bed, her bottom was poised and waiting to be paddled. Tying her wrists together he placed them above her head, but kept her legs apart, tethering them to the posts at the foot of the bed.

Go ahead you moron, she thought, staring at him. Have your fun while you can. Monday morning I’ll have your balls for breakfast. You have no idea what I have in store for you.

He could see the devil in her glare, the malevolence and cunning, and while he didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, the energy emanating from the ice in her eyes made any verbiage unnecessary.

Focusing on the task at hand he gripped the sides of her knickers, pulling them into her crack. She made a sound of protest but he paid it no heed, and moving the paddle across her right cheek, he slapped it down hard.

“Shit man, that hurts,” she exclaimed, shocked at the force with which he’d just whacked her.

“That’s the point,” he declared, and spanked her again, repeatedly, with rapid swats.

“Shhhiiitt!” she shrieked, writhing in her binds.

“I think you’d better bury your head in that mattress if you don’t want me to gag you.”

Thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll have time to swing by the other authors on this hop.  So many great writers from which you choose, no matter where you land you won’t be disappointed.

Dominance and submission – Shameless Suit Ads – Part Two #ASMSG

If you follow this blog, you may recall I started a serial inspired by this brilliant photograph.  Much to my dismay, I found the post in the WP trash, though how it ended up there is a mystery to me. It is now back, available to be read and viewed, and if you missed it the link is below the picture.


So, now, here is Part Two

“Such a naughty girl,” he whispered, his fingers gripping her upper arm as he moved her down the hallway to the outside terrace. “Why did you do such a thing?”

“I’m not sure,” she stammered, “honestly, I’m not.”

Pushing through the heavy glass doors, the cool outside air swirled gently around them, but the shiver she felt wasn’t caused by the abrupt drop in temperature.

“Remove your dress,” he said firmly.

“But, Stephan,” she protested, “there are so many people inside, and windows, they could see.”

“The punishment must fit the crime,” he scolded.  “You will sit for five minutes, but your back will be to the glass.  Should anyone threaten to walk out here I will intervene, and I hope you will learn your lesson.  When I say no bra, it would be wiser to simply do as you’re told.”

“Do I have to?” she bleated.

“No, of course not,” he frowned, but the unspoken words carried the threat.  Not a threat of great punishment, or of harm, but of the displeasure he would feel, and the implied suggestion that perhaps she didn’t wish to serve him after all.

Tentatively she slipped the dress off her shoulders, letting it drop to the ground, puddling around her feet.  She stood quietly, dropping her eyes as the wave of heavy submission swept over her, and as he walked behind her, she felt the goosebumps dance across her skin.

Tracing his fingers across her shoulders, he moved them to the fastener of the unwelcome undergarment, deftly snapped it apart, then whisked it away.

“Sit on the concrete, legs apart,,” he directed, “and stay there until I give you permission to move.”


Stay Tuned For Part Three

Dungeon Crawl Blog Hop – The Cowboy From Down Under #ASMSG

Welcome to the decadent delights of the Dungeon Crawl Blog Hop.


Pasted below is an excerpt from my latest release,


DownUndereBook-2 small size

Emma Harrison, a strong-willed, daredevil photographer, is in Australia to shoot some thrilling photographs for a new coffee table book.  Derrick Palmer has been assigned the task of keeping her safe in the dangerous New South Wales outback, a task he takes very seriously. In this excerpt, their relationship has developed, and Dominant cowboy Derrick wants to see just how submissive Emma Harrison, the supposedly tough and determined, woman, truly is.

He watched her for a minute, then a wry smile crept across his lips.

“I have an idea that might help take your mind off things,” he murmured.

What he had in store was a roll of the dice, but he wanted to see how she would handle it, and it would be a true test of her submissive nature.

“You’ve got a glint in your eye,” she remarked.

“I’m not surprised,” he chuckled. “What’s under that robe?”

“Nothing,” she replied, tilting her head to one side. “Why?’

He didn’t respond, but walked to a chest of drawers retrieving two long pieces of wide ribbon. Emma’s stomach did a tap dance as he moved slowly towards her, and when his hands undid the belt of her robe, then traveled up to her shoulders to push the sleeves down her arms, letting the robe drop to the floor, a warm shiver sent goosebumps dancing across her skin.

“You’re not cold are you?” he asked softly.

“No, just…”

“Just what? Apprehensive?”

“Yes,” she breathed, “apprehensive, and I feel weird standing here naked like this.”

“You’re gorgeous, you have nothing to feel weird about, but apprehensive I can understand.”

“What are you going to do with those ribbons?” she muttered.

“I told you, I’m going to give you something to think about,” he smiled, quickly tying one around her waist.

“I don’t understand,” she frowned.

“You will in a minute,” he promised.

Knotting the second ribbon to the center of the one he’d tied around her midriff, he carried it between her legs, nestling it into her sex, but as he reached around, tugging on it to move it between her bottom cheeks, she let out a gasp and began squirming. Quick as a flash he landed his hot palm against her backside, swatting her smartly several times in succession.

“Ow, stop, I’ll be still,” she wailed. “

“See that you are,” he said sternly, landing two more smacks on each cheek for good measure. “You need some training.”

“Training?” she squeaked. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you ever had a Dom?” he frowned.

“Um, kind of,” she replied, thinking about Marcus. I guess he wasn’t, not really. It sure didn’t feel like this.

“We’ll talk about this later. Please stand still and let me finish.”

“Sorry,” she apologized, and to show she would cooperate she shifted her feet apart.

“That’s better,” he remarked, and picking up the trailing ribbon he yanked it between her cheeks and tied it off, then turned her around to face him. Her eyes were sparking, and her face was as scarlet as her freshly spanked bottom.

“Do I have to wear this all night?”

“Only if you want to, but it would please me,” he replied softly, his stern demeanor vanishing as quickly as it had surfaced.

“I, uh, do want to…I think,” she stammered.

“That’s good to hear,” he smiled. “How do you feel?”

“I feel, uh, I don’t know how I feel,” she confessed.

“When you figure it out you tell me,” he said, and taking her face in his hands, he kissed her warmly. “Now get dressed and we’ll go.”

Dog Lovers Watch This – and YAY for Subaru

I was supposed to be writing a completely different post today, but this has jumped the line.

Dogs copy


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 253 other followers