Sean Michael's Blog, page 25
May 17, 2013
Hop Against Homophobia and Transphobia
May 17 is the International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia and I'm once again taking part in the Hop Against Homophobia and Transphobia (HAHAT -- isn't that a great acronym?)
There's around 180 participants in the hop this year, which is great, but what would be even greater would be if we didn't need a day and if we didn't need a hop.
I really don't get why someone's very personal choice has anything to do with anyone else. What do you care if Johnny loves Bob and Tom is actually Judy? It shouldn't matter to anyone but Johnny, Bob and Judy. The world needs more love in it, not less, more happiness, more joy, more accepting yourself for who you are and accepting others as they are, too. I celebrate love, no matter what the flavor. I wish everyone could.
I'm doing a contest for the hop and will have three winners, to be chosen randomly from the commentors on this post. Why three prizes? Because that way more people win!
Prize #1 an ebook of the winner's choice from my back catalog
Prize #2 a print copy of Mannies Incorporated
Prize #3 a $10 gift certificate from Torquere Press
The hop ends on May 27 and I'll pull and announce the winners on May 28. If you aren't going to check back here on the 28th, please leave your email addy in your comment so I can email you should you win.
Do check out the other participants. There's a lot of great posts and great prizes out there.
And please -- celebreate love and happiness and hope every day.
May 16, 2013
Merry Month of Masturbation #8
Jeremy tried hard to make Simon happy. Real hard.
But he needed to jack off in the morning.
So every morning after Simon went to work, he sat in his shower chair and got himself off. He wasn't breaking any rules, really. Simon had never said he couldn't.... It hadn't ever come up.
His ass slid on the chair.
Hopefully it never would.
But he needed to jack off in the morning.
So every morning after Simon went to work, he sat in his shower chair and got himself off. He wasn't breaking any rules, really. Simon had never said he couldn't.... It hadn't ever come up.
His ass slid on the chair.
Hopefully it never would.
May 15, 2013
Merry Month of Masturbation #7
Jack wriggled in his seat, all hot and bothered now. "Who's next?"
"What are you guys up to?" Jeremy clumped through the club. "Did I lose my cell phone here last night?"
"I'll go check with Xavier, Jeremy." Happy popped up and headed for the bar.
"We are telling masturbation stories and you are just in time to take a turn, Jer."
"Me? Stories about..." Jeremy made the world-wide jack off motion.
"Yep. Fess up."
"What are you guys up to?" Jeremy clumped through the club. "Did I lose my cell phone here last night?"
"I'll go check with Xavier, Jeremy." Happy popped up and headed for the bar.
"We are telling masturbation stories and you are just in time to take a turn, Jer."
"Me? Stories about..." Jeremy made the world-wide jack off motion.
"Yep. Fess up."
May 14, 2013
Author Spotlight Tuesday - Kiernan Kelly
Boxers or briefs?
I lean toward the form-fitting briefs, although boxers always held their own timeless attraction. Briefs leave nothing to the imagination, giving a clear view of which way the wearer dresses to even the most casual of observers. Boxers, however, cloak the wearer in mystery, allowing for all sorts of naughty speculation. Thankfully, the invention of the boxer-brief has made choosing between the two obsolete. Of course, if all else fails, I vote for commando.
Favorite position to write?
Okay, me being...well, me, I'm having trouble understanding the question. Do you mean my favorite sex position to write about, or my favorite position to actually be in while writing? Never mind. I'll just answer both.
I have two favorite sex positions to write about – face-to-face, and doggy style, and both have specific uses. If I'm writing a scene that requires unbridled energy and mattress-pounding stamina, I usually choose to write it with the characters in doggy style. The position lends itself to grab-those-hips-and-pump-away action.
By the same token, if I need to write a more tender scene, or one with intense emotion, I usually choose to write the characters in a missionary position. I feel that face-to-face allows for a connection between the characters that's more difficult to achieve in positions where they can't look their lover in the eye.
That's not to say I don't write other positions. I've been known to get very creative, depending on the characters I'm writing. For example, in "Dancing on the Head of a Pin," my angel/demon pairing had sex on the wing. Literally.
Now, as for me, I choose to write in an upright position at my desk. Curling up on the sofa would cause me to fall asleep, and while I could stretch out on the floor to write, I'd need a winch to get me back up again.
Favorite kink to write?
Is rimming still considered a kink? It used to be, but it's become so common in erotic m/m romance that I'm not sure anymore. Light bondage is a favorite of mine. Some silky ribbon to tie the hands and feet, a little spanking...yum.
Tattoos or piercings?
Um, both? Is that an option? If I have to choose, I'll go with tattoos. It's the artist in me. I appreciate fine art in every form, including those etched into the skin. I've seen some really exquisite tats, and I think bold, tribal designs on a beefy guy's arms, shoulders, or back are drop dead sexy.
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
Definitely cut, and only because (and I admit to being a bit lazy here) it's easier for me to write. No fussing with foreskin for me, please. I have enough things to worry about. I have written uncut characters, but usually only in historical fiction when it would seem odd or unlikely for the character to have been circumcised.
What's your favorite thing about Lights, Cameras, Zombies?
I love zombies. There's something about them that strikes a chord with me. For one thing, they're the perpetual underdog of the monster world. Vampires and werewolves are always portrayed as ultra cool, sexy and seductive, the alpha males. Everyone wants to have sex with the fangers and the furries, but nobody ever wants a poor ol' zombie.
I can identify with them. As a child, I was one of the ones always left out, the uncool kid with glasses and her nose stuck in a book. Zombies are like that. They're usually presented as ugly, shuffling, mindless creatures that operate on a decidedly less-than-human level. No one is attracted to them. No one wants to have a conversation with them. Nobody wants to take a zombie to the prom.
In my zombie universe (first written in the short story, "As Serious As the Grave") not all zombies are walking compost heaps. I look at it this way: "zombie" is usually interpreted as someone who was once dead and is now reanimated. By that definition, anyone who dies and is resuscitated is technically a zombie. Therefore, while there are squishy zombies in my stories, the protagonists are people who were dead only minutes or an hour before reanimating. My heroes are as hale and hearty as they were before they died. No sloughing off body parts, or nauseating smells, thank you very much.
As I've written them, if zombies are mostly intact when reanimated, and their bodies, for the most part, continue to function. They eat, sleep, void, etc., just as they did when alive, so decomposition stops. The zombies who are in bad shape when they reanimate – those missing vital pieces of their anatomy, for example - and whose bodies can't continue to function eventually decompose completely and return to the grave. All zombies have some features that no longer work – for example, my zombies can't cry because they can't afford to lose fluids - their reanimated bodies need more moisture than the rest of us.
In my new story, "Lights, Camera, Zombies!" we meet Jericho, a zombie who arose just an hour after the Dante Comet passed over the earth, reanimating the deceased. Jericho doesn't look in the slightest bit dead, and therein lays his problem. In the post-comet world, zombie prejudice is prevalent despite laws passed to protect them. In order to earn a living, zombies are usually hired to do the most dangerous, or unpalatable jobs, the ones the living don't want to do. The only job open to zombies that pays well and usually won't get them re-dead, is acting. Zombie movies are hot in the box office, and the law states that only zombies can portray zombies on film. Unfortunately, Jericho doesn't look like a zombie because he arose so quickly after the comet passed. He actually needs to wear makeup and prosthetics to appear more zombie-esque and get the job.
While on set, Jericho meets Dex, a zombie who remains in the closet and passes as living so that he can keep his job as a make-up artist, a position denied to zombies. Dex is also drop dead sexy, having arisen only minutes after the comet passed.
With one zombie out, and one in the closet, keeping their romance a secret is critical. It's illegal, you see, for zombies and the living to have sexual relationships. When Jericho's re-life is suddenly put in danger, they must decide if the cost of coming out is worth losing what they've found together.
Here's the blurb and the cover from "Lights, Camera, Zombies!"
After the Dante Comet passed, the dead rose and demanded their lives back. Trouble was, not everyone was happy to see their dead relatives show up for dinner. Laws were enacted, but rarely enforced. Zombies kept at least one foot in the grave, working at menial jobs for less pay than breathers, experiencing discrimination and hatred from almost every quarter.
Jericho and Dex are zombies living very different lives. While both have jobs on a film set, Jericho is out, hired as a zombie extra, but Dex remains in the closet, passing as a breather to keep his job as a make-up artist. They keep their relationship to the shadows for fear it might out Dex, and end with both of them in jail or worse.
When a bigoted director decides the world can do with one less zombie so he can get an Oscar-worthy death scene, both Jericho and Dex are forced to reexamine their lives and make some decisions that might tilt their world on its axis.
It's coming out on May 15 from Torquere Press.
Interested in reading a snippet from "Lights, Camera, Zombies!"? In the following excerpt, Jericho decides to test the waters with Dex to see if there's a mutual attraction there.
It had been a good, long while since I was so strongly attracted to a man. Usually, my lust level fell well within controllable limits, especially since the Rising. I knew better than to risk my freedom and possibly my life for the sake of a quick fuck. I already had two strikes against me as far as society was concerned. Not only was I gay, but I was a zombie, to boot. The last thing I needed was for some straight breather to beat the shit out of me for putting the moves on him, or worse, turn me in to the Department of Zombie Affairs.
The law not only prohibited marriage or even civil unions between breathers and zombies, it also made it illegal for zombies and humans, gay, straight, or otherwise, to have sex. The subject wasn't even mentioned in polite society. Zombie sex was fodder for late night comedians; it was the dirty joke teenage boys told one another in the locker rooms to gross each other out. I knew a guy who had sex with a zombie, and his prick rotted off!
Of course, the punishment for those caught indulging was hardly evenhanded. If a living human was caught having sex with a zombie, authorities would slap his wrist, give him a fine, and send him on home, but if a breather turned me into DoZA for hitting on him, they'd lock me up and forget where they put the key.
If, that is, I survived the trip to the precinct, and wasn’t put down with a bullet to the brain for "resisting arrest." The majority of cops were as fair as the law allowed them to be, but there were always more than a few haters hiding behind the badge.
This time, though, my libido was threatening to escape my control and run wild, no doubt causing all sorts of havoc in my life, like Godzilla on a rampage through Tokyo.
Even stranger was the fact that this time, I really didn't care. I wanted this man to touch me so badly that I would gladly take my chances. To have Dex kneel down and take my cock into his mouth, suck me inside out, and shove those aforementioned thick, rough fingers deep inside me, finger-fucking my ass until I came hard enough to see stars, was worth any risk.
Besides, the heated look he was giving me practically screamed interest. That mitigated some of the uncertainty if not the danger, enough for me to make a move, anyway.
I looked him straight in the eye, licked my lips, and traced my fingers leisurely over the outline of my erection.
There. That was as bold an invite to fuck me as I could manage, short of dropping my drawers and drawing a bull's-eye around my asshole.
I lean toward the form-fitting briefs, although boxers always held their own timeless attraction. Briefs leave nothing to the imagination, giving a clear view of which way the wearer dresses to even the most casual of observers. Boxers, however, cloak the wearer in mystery, allowing for all sorts of naughty speculation. Thankfully, the invention of the boxer-brief has made choosing between the two obsolete. Of course, if all else fails, I vote for commando.
Favorite position to write?
Okay, me being...well, me, I'm having trouble understanding the question. Do you mean my favorite sex position to write about, or my favorite position to actually be in while writing? Never mind. I'll just answer both.
I have two favorite sex positions to write about – face-to-face, and doggy style, and both have specific uses. If I'm writing a scene that requires unbridled energy and mattress-pounding stamina, I usually choose to write it with the characters in doggy style. The position lends itself to grab-those-hips-and-pump-away action.
By the same token, if I need to write a more tender scene, or one with intense emotion, I usually choose to write the characters in a missionary position. I feel that face-to-face allows for a connection between the characters that's more difficult to achieve in positions where they can't look their lover in the eye.
That's not to say I don't write other positions. I've been known to get very creative, depending on the characters I'm writing. For example, in "Dancing on the Head of a Pin," my angel/demon pairing had sex on the wing. Literally.
Now, as for me, I choose to write in an upright position at my desk. Curling up on the sofa would cause me to fall asleep, and while I could stretch out on the floor to write, I'd need a winch to get me back up again.
Favorite kink to write?
Is rimming still considered a kink? It used to be, but it's become so common in erotic m/m romance that I'm not sure anymore. Light bondage is a favorite of mine. Some silky ribbon to tie the hands and feet, a little spanking...yum.
Tattoos or piercings?
Um, both? Is that an option? If I have to choose, I'll go with tattoos. It's the artist in me. I appreciate fine art in every form, including those etched into the skin. I've seen some really exquisite tats, and I think bold, tribal designs on a beefy guy's arms, shoulders, or back are drop dead sexy.
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
Definitely cut, and only because (and I admit to being a bit lazy here) it's easier for me to write. No fussing with foreskin for me, please. I have enough things to worry about. I have written uncut characters, but usually only in historical fiction when it would seem odd or unlikely for the character to have been circumcised.
What's your favorite thing about Lights, Cameras, Zombies?
I love zombies. There's something about them that strikes a chord with me. For one thing, they're the perpetual underdog of the monster world. Vampires and werewolves are always portrayed as ultra cool, sexy and seductive, the alpha males. Everyone wants to have sex with the fangers and the furries, but nobody ever wants a poor ol' zombie.
I can identify with them. As a child, I was one of the ones always left out, the uncool kid with glasses and her nose stuck in a book. Zombies are like that. They're usually presented as ugly, shuffling, mindless creatures that operate on a decidedly less-than-human level. No one is attracted to them. No one wants to have a conversation with them. Nobody wants to take a zombie to the prom.
In my zombie universe (first written in the short story, "As Serious As the Grave") not all zombies are walking compost heaps. I look at it this way: "zombie" is usually interpreted as someone who was once dead and is now reanimated. By that definition, anyone who dies and is resuscitated is technically a zombie. Therefore, while there are squishy zombies in my stories, the protagonists are people who were dead only minutes or an hour before reanimating. My heroes are as hale and hearty as they were before they died. No sloughing off body parts, or nauseating smells, thank you very much.
As I've written them, if zombies are mostly intact when reanimated, and their bodies, for the most part, continue to function. They eat, sleep, void, etc., just as they did when alive, so decomposition stops. The zombies who are in bad shape when they reanimate – those missing vital pieces of their anatomy, for example - and whose bodies can't continue to function eventually decompose completely and return to the grave. All zombies have some features that no longer work – for example, my zombies can't cry because they can't afford to lose fluids - their reanimated bodies need more moisture than the rest of us.
In my new story, "Lights, Camera, Zombies!" we meet Jericho, a zombie who arose just an hour after the Dante Comet passed over the earth, reanimating the deceased. Jericho doesn't look in the slightest bit dead, and therein lays his problem. In the post-comet world, zombie prejudice is prevalent despite laws passed to protect them. In order to earn a living, zombies are usually hired to do the most dangerous, or unpalatable jobs, the ones the living don't want to do. The only job open to zombies that pays well and usually won't get them re-dead, is acting. Zombie movies are hot in the box office, and the law states that only zombies can portray zombies on film. Unfortunately, Jericho doesn't look like a zombie because he arose so quickly after the comet passed. He actually needs to wear makeup and prosthetics to appear more zombie-esque and get the job.
While on set, Jericho meets Dex, a zombie who remains in the closet and passes as living so that he can keep his job as a make-up artist, a position denied to zombies. Dex is also drop dead sexy, having arisen only minutes after the comet passed.
With one zombie out, and one in the closet, keeping their romance a secret is critical. It's illegal, you see, for zombies and the living to have sexual relationships. When Jericho's re-life is suddenly put in danger, they must decide if the cost of coming out is worth losing what they've found together.
Here's the blurb and the cover from "Lights, Camera, Zombies!"
After the Dante Comet passed, the dead rose and demanded their lives back. Trouble was, not everyone was happy to see their dead relatives show up for dinner. Laws were enacted, but rarely enforced. Zombies kept at least one foot in the grave, working at menial jobs for less pay than breathers, experiencing discrimination and hatred from almost every quarter.
Jericho and Dex are zombies living very different lives. While both have jobs on a film set, Jericho is out, hired as a zombie extra, but Dex remains in the closet, passing as a breather to keep his job as a make-up artist. They keep their relationship to the shadows for fear it might out Dex, and end with both of them in jail or worse.
When a bigoted director decides the world can do with one less zombie so he can get an Oscar-worthy death scene, both Jericho and Dex are forced to reexamine their lives and make some decisions that might tilt their world on its axis.
It's coming out on May 15 from Torquere Press.
Interested in reading a snippet from "Lights, Camera, Zombies!"? In the following excerpt, Jericho decides to test the waters with Dex to see if there's a mutual attraction there.
It had been a good, long while since I was so strongly attracted to a man. Usually, my lust level fell well within controllable limits, especially since the Rising. I knew better than to risk my freedom and possibly my life for the sake of a quick fuck. I already had two strikes against me as far as society was concerned. Not only was I gay, but I was a zombie, to boot. The last thing I needed was for some straight breather to beat the shit out of me for putting the moves on him, or worse, turn me in to the Department of Zombie Affairs.
The law not only prohibited marriage or even civil unions between breathers and zombies, it also made it illegal for zombies and humans, gay, straight, or otherwise, to have sex. The subject wasn't even mentioned in polite society. Zombie sex was fodder for late night comedians; it was the dirty joke teenage boys told one another in the locker rooms to gross each other out. I knew a guy who had sex with a zombie, and his prick rotted off!
Of course, the punishment for those caught indulging was hardly evenhanded. If a living human was caught having sex with a zombie, authorities would slap his wrist, give him a fine, and send him on home, but if a breather turned me into DoZA for hitting on him, they'd lock me up and forget where they put the key.
If, that is, I survived the trip to the precinct, and wasn’t put down with a bullet to the brain for "resisting arrest." The majority of cops were as fair as the law allowed them to be, but there were always more than a few haters hiding behind the badge.
This time, though, my libido was threatening to escape my control and run wild, no doubt causing all sorts of havoc in my life, like Godzilla on a rampage through Tokyo.
Even stranger was the fact that this time, I really didn't care. I wanted this man to touch me so badly that I would gladly take my chances. To have Dex kneel down and take my cock into his mouth, suck me inside out, and shove those aforementioned thick, rough fingers deep inside me, finger-fucking my ass until I came hard enough to see stars, was worth any risk.
Besides, the heated look he was giving me practically screamed interest. That mitigated some of the uncertainty if not the danger, enough for me to make a move, anyway.
I looked him straight in the eye, licked my lips, and traced my fingers leisurely over the outline of my erection.
There. That was as bold an invite to fuck me as I could manage, short of dropping my drawers and drawing a bull's-eye around my asshole.
May 13, 2013
Merry Month of Masturbation, #6
Jack closed his eyes and blocked out all the loud noises. He wasn't in the field; he was home, in bed, his master beside him.
He wrapped his hand around his cock, pretending it was Master Oliver's, stroking quickly.
"I'm going to make you scream, boy."
He shoved his free hand in his mouth to keep from crying out.
Oh, God, he was close.
Master Oliver always did it for him.
He came as he heard his master's voice order him to in the back of his head.
He wrapped his hand around his cock, pretending it was Master Oliver's, stroking quickly.
"I'm going to make you scream, boy."
He shoved his free hand in his mouth to keep from crying out.
Oh, God, he was close.
Master Oliver always did it for him.
He came as he heard his master's voice order him to in the back of his head.
My God It's Monday, mostly cover edition
Tomorrow I'm at the TRS Blue blog.
Tomorrow's Author Spotlight Tuesday is Kiernan Kelly.
Merry Month of Masturbation #6 will be up shortly!
May 12, 2013
Author Spolight Tuesday -- Patricia Logan
I know it's Sunday, but we got our wires crossed, so here's last week's Author Spolight Tuesday!
Patricia Logan
I like my guys in briefs, I like them bent over a tail gate, I love BDSM and if I have to choose, I'd say tattoos over piercings. As far as cut or uncut, I love them both. In my current book "Kaden" Master's Boys (Book Three) I love promoting BDSM. I can put up leather pics everywhere :)
The best thing about writing BDSM is the variety that the genre offers. The opportunity to write playroom scenes with a whole world of toys and scenes is what attracted me to the genre in the first place. It is a world filled with fantasy and kink and something near and dear to my own submissive heart. I didn’t realize what it was about writing submissives that appealed to me, until I began to reflect on my own vanilla sex life. I’ve been married for more years than I care to admit but as a young woman, experimenting with my own sexuality, I realized that the times that I was good naturedly held down and “forced” during love play, were the most exciting sex play that I’d ever experienced.
I had written a couple of BDSM books and had them published with moderate success until a character grabbed me and forced me to write his story. Zack Teak, a big bad Dom, had appeared in a short story for an anthology submission last summer but even though there was only one scene with this character, I knew that he deserved his own story. Zack is around forty years old, so I decided to put him into my ‘Silvers’ series and give him his own sub. He found a hot one in Cassidy Ryan, a big tough talking LAPD detective. “Silver Ties”, Cassidy and Zack’s story immediately hit the best seller list on Amazon and stayed there for three weeks.
I decided to do the Master’s Boys series after “Silver Ties” success and it took off as a hit, the moment the first book “Trick” Master’s Boys (Book One) was released. I love writing this genre and I plan on doing it as long as I possibly can.
Kaden Markwell, spoiled rich kid, has always chosen the hard way to learn life’s lessons, though he doesn’t see it that way. Now that he’s been caught in an act that, should it get out, will embarrass his millionaire father and ruin his mother’s career, he’s taken things a step too far. Kaden has no choice but to finally do what his daddy says as he’s sent off to an old family friend to get his act together.
At DOMZ.com, Kaden is not the one calling the shots anymore, and his good looks and boyish charms are more likely to leave him gagged and hogtied than with his way. When Master R, a renowned Shibari rope master, steps in to show the rebellious Kaden a thing or two about control, will they find Kaden’s inner submissive or will the experience leave them both tied in knots?
buy link
“Ahh! Oh, God, it hurts, Sir!” the sub said.
“As I want it to,” Master R said. He touched the boy’s thigh with the wand and again the boy cried out.
“God, Sir!”
“You have your words, boy. Use them if you need to or I will continue.”
“Yes, Sir. Please continue, Sir.”
“Good boy,” the Dom praised, touching the weights and making them swing, pulling the boy’s scrotum down again. Zack knew how painful it was. One thing that he had learned early on in the BDSM scene, was that in order to be a responsible Dom, he would have to try out all the toys that he used on his subs. Only then, could he gauge how much it hurt to have a toy used on him. He hadn’t liked most of the Dom’s playthings but then, he was not into pain himself. Giving it was much more fun than getting it, as far as Zack was concerned but that’s what made him the perfect Dom. On the other side of the glass Kaden cried out as Master R applied the wand again and then again. His skin was pink where the wand had touched.
“I’m going to untie some of these ropes boy. When I do, it’s going to hurt. I want you to breathe through it. You will be just fine but you must relax, focus your thoughts and you will get through it,” the Dom said.
“Yes, Master,” Kaden panted. “I understand.” Zack watched as Master R reached down and removed the weights. He saw the sub visibly relax as the tension was taken away. Master Rob moved behind the cross and began to work the ropes and as he did so, Kaden lifted his head and stared out through the glass at Zack and Cassidy. His tiny nod told Zack that he’d registered their presence. Master R stepped back around and began unwinding the ropes. Red lines showed on the boy’s skin as the silken Shibari ropes fell away. Kaden began to pant and Zack knew that the blood was returning to the areas where it had been cut off.
“God, Sir, it hurts!” he whimpered. Rob nodded.
“Yes boy, breathe through it.” Zack watched as the boy took several deep breaths concentrating on his breathing. He could almost see the boy fall into his subspace as he made the transition out of his own body to deal with the pain. Master Rob ran his palm down Kaden’s abused abdominals, petting him over the red marks that crisscrossed his belly. Kaden’s cock was still hard as a rock as Master R began to remove the ropes tying it up against his belly so prettily.
Patricia Logan
I like my guys in briefs, I like them bent over a tail gate, I love BDSM and if I have to choose, I'd say tattoos over piercings. As far as cut or uncut, I love them both. In my current book "Kaden" Master's Boys (Book Three) I love promoting BDSM. I can put up leather pics everywhere :)
The best thing about writing BDSM is the variety that the genre offers. The opportunity to write playroom scenes with a whole world of toys and scenes is what attracted me to the genre in the first place. It is a world filled with fantasy and kink and something near and dear to my own submissive heart. I didn’t realize what it was about writing submissives that appealed to me, until I began to reflect on my own vanilla sex life. I’ve been married for more years than I care to admit but as a young woman, experimenting with my own sexuality, I realized that the times that I was good naturedly held down and “forced” during love play, were the most exciting sex play that I’d ever experienced.
I had written a couple of BDSM books and had them published with moderate success until a character grabbed me and forced me to write his story. Zack Teak, a big bad Dom, had appeared in a short story for an anthology submission last summer but even though there was only one scene with this character, I knew that he deserved his own story. Zack is around forty years old, so I decided to put him into my ‘Silvers’ series and give him his own sub. He found a hot one in Cassidy Ryan, a big tough talking LAPD detective. “Silver Ties”, Cassidy and Zack’s story immediately hit the best seller list on Amazon and stayed there for three weeks.
I decided to do the Master’s Boys series after “Silver Ties” success and it took off as a hit, the moment the first book “Trick” Master’s Boys (Book One) was released. I love writing this genre and I plan on doing it as long as I possibly can.
Kaden Markwell, spoiled rich kid, has always chosen the hard way to learn life’s lessons, though he doesn’t see it that way. Now that he’s been caught in an act that, should it get out, will embarrass his millionaire father and ruin his mother’s career, he’s taken things a step too far. Kaden has no choice but to finally do what his daddy says as he’s sent off to an old family friend to get his act together.
At DOMZ.com, Kaden is not the one calling the shots anymore, and his good looks and boyish charms are more likely to leave him gagged and hogtied than with his way. When Master R, a renowned Shibari rope master, steps in to show the rebellious Kaden a thing or two about control, will they find Kaden’s inner submissive or will the experience leave them both tied in knots?
buy link
“Ahh! Oh, God, it hurts, Sir!” the sub said.
“As I want it to,” Master R said. He touched the boy’s thigh with the wand and again the boy cried out.
“God, Sir!”
“You have your words, boy. Use them if you need to or I will continue.”
“Yes, Sir. Please continue, Sir.”
“Good boy,” the Dom praised, touching the weights and making them swing, pulling the boy’s scrotum down again. Zack knew how painful it was. One thing that he had learned early on in the BDSM scene, was that in order to be a responsible Dom, he would have to try out all the toys that he used on his subs. Only then, could he gauge how much it hurt to have a toy used on him. He hadn’t liked most of the Dom’s playthings but then, he was not into pain himself. Giving it was much more fun than getting it, as far as Zack was concerned but that’s what made him the perfect Dom. On the other side of the glass Kaden cried out as Master R applied the wand again and then again. His skin was pink where the wand had touched.
“I’m going to untie some of these ropes boy. When I do, it’s going to hurt. I want you to breathe through it. You will be just fine but you must relax, focus your thoughts and you will get through it,” the Dom said.
“Yes, Master,” Kaden panted. “I understand.” Zack watched as Master R reached down and removed the weights. He saw the sub visibly relax as the tension was taken away. Master Rob moved behind the cross and began to work the ropes and as he did so, Kaden lifted his head and stared out through the glass at Zack and Cassidy. His tiny nod told Zack that he’d registered their presence. Master R stepped back around and began unwinding the ropes. Red lines showed on the boy’s skin as the silken Shibari ropes fell away. Kaden began to pant and Zack knew that the blood was returning to the areas where it had been cut off.
“God, Sir, it hurts!” he whimpered. Rob nodded.
“Yes boy, breathe through it.” Zack watched as the boy took several deep breaths concentrating on his breathing. He could almost see the boy fall into his subspace as he made the transition out of his own body to deal with the pain. Master Rob ran his palm down Kaden’s abused abdominals, petting him over the red marks that crisscrossed his belly. Kaden’s cock was still hard as a rock as Master R began to remove the ropes tying it up against his belly so prettily.
May 10, 2013
Merry Month of Masturbation, #5
"So do your master's punishments make good fantasy fodder for masturbating?" Jack asked Forrest.
"God, yes."
"Those make the best fantasies," piped up a soft voice from the background.
"They totally do," Jim agreed.
"Mmm. Yeah." Jack closed his eyes, nodded.
"God, yes."
"Those make the best fantasies," piped up a soft voice from the background.
"They totally do," Jim agreed.
"Mmm. Yeah." Jack closed his eyes, nodded.
May 9, 2013
Merrry Month of Masturbation #4
Forrest spread out on the bed, feeling his master's eyes on him as he posed, hand on his cock, jacking slow and steady.
"A little faster now, boy." Hunter's voice was deep, husky.
"Yes, sir." He smiled, let his hand speed.
"No coming, though, Forrest."
"I won't." He wasn't even worried about that. He knew how to get himself off.
"You need to make me come, though." Hunter's hand dropped to his own prick and he started jacking himself.
"Come here, I'll suck you off."
Hunter laughed. "No, I mean you need to make me come from watching you."
"That's way less fun." He spread wider, hips rolling, putting on a show for Hunter.
"I don't know -- I'm having fun." Hunter stroked, matching his rhythm for a few moments. "Tell me what you like when you do this."
"What I like? I'm pretty straightforward. Jerk off in the shower."
"What do you think about?"
Hunter had moved closer and Forrest could smell him.
"You. Your hands. Your cock. How you look at me like I'm still beautiful."
"Oh, baby. Talk like that will definitely make me come."
"I want to. I want you to need me so bad." His hand moved faster.
"I do, Forrest. More than I can ever say."
"I know."
Hunter reached down, touched his leg, and it was all over, boom.
"I didn't give you permission to come, boy." Hunter sounded very pleased about that.
"Uh-huh. You touched. That's cheating."
"I don't remember there being any rules except you weren't allowed to come."
He chuckled, loving this game. He turned ass up in the air. "Punish me."
"A little faster now, boy." Hunter's voice was deep, husky.
"Yes, sir." He smiled, let his hand speed.
"No coming, though, Forrest."
"I won't." He wasn't even worried about that. He knew how to get himself off.
"You need to make me come, though." Hunter's hand dropped to his own prick and he started jacking himself.
"Come here, I'll suck you off."
Hunter laughed. "No, I mean you need to make me come from watching you."
"That's way less fun." He spread wider, hips rolling, putting on a show for Hunter.
"I don't know -- I'm having fun." Hunter stroked, matching his rhythm for a few moments. "Tell me what you like when you do this."
"What I like? I'm pretty straightforward. Jerk off in the shower."
"What do you think about?"
Hunter had moved closer and Forrest could smell him.
"You. Your hands. Your cock. How you look at me like I'm still beautiful."
"Oh, baby. Talk like that will definitely make me come."
"I want to. I want you to need me so bad." His hand moved faster.
"I do, Forrest. More than I can ever say."
"I know."
Hunter reached down, touched his leg, and it was all over, boom.
"I didn't give you permission to come, boy." Hunter sounded very pleased about that.
"Uh-huh. You touched. That's cheating."
"I don't remember there being any rules except you weren't allowed to come."
He chuckled, loving this game. He turned ass up in the air. "Punish me."
May 8, 2013
Wrapped in Robbons is out!
Dillon and Dal spend every Christmas at a house on the beach, but they never spend very much time in the sand. This year, Dillon has dark red silk ribbon to wrap Dal up in and he can't think of a better Christmas gift for either of them.
Originally published in Toy Box: Ribbons
you can buy it here
there's an excerpt here
and a not really safe for work excerpt
Those bright blue eyes stared at him, Dal's body already dancing against him, moving, tempting him under that confining business suit. He slipped the suit jacket off Dal's shoulders, fingers sliding over the shirt, trying to discover whether or not Dal was wearing anything beneath it. His fingers brushed along the top of a light-weight corset -- this one barely boned and more decorative than functional, so that it could get through security.
"Mmm... I love it when you decorate yourself for me." He worked the buttons of Dal's shirt open, tugging the ends out of the waist of Dal's trousers. He was eager to see.
"I know." Those nipple rings were shining in the firelight, the little nipples tight and dark.
He slowly slid the shirt from Dal's shoulders, admiring the smooth, warm skin that covered trim muscles. Bending in, he breathed on Dal's right nipple, and then moved over to the left one, taking the ring between his lips and tugging.
"Mmm. More." Sweet, hungry little slut. His.
He twisted the right nipple ring with his fingers, his tongue flicking across the tip of Dal's left nipple while his free hand slid along the top of Dal's corset. He loved the place where silk or velvet or leather suddenly became skin. Today it was silk warmed by Dal’s beautiful skin. Dal's skin goose pimpled up for him, trying to attract his fingers, his touch.
"I have a present for you," he murmured, fingers sliding down along the smooth silk of the corset until they were teasing around Dal's waistband.
"Mmm. It's Christmas. There are supposed to be presents."
"Yeah, but I got you something special to open now." He undid Dal's belt, sliding it slowly through the loops and dropping it onto the floor before starting in on the top button and then Dal's zipper.
"You... you seem like you're the one opening, Dillon." Dal's cock was full, heavy, throbbing for him.
Dillon chuckled, fingers lingering, sliding over that hot prick, making the sound of his soft laughter end on a moan. "I do, don't I?"
He reached down beside the chair, picking up the box wrapped in elegant paper and handed it over to Dal.
"Oh." Every little gift always made his lover beam. Dal tore into it, paper flying.
Dillon sat back, one hand still on Dal's body, touching the covered belly, tugging on a nipple ring, sliding his fingertip over the very tip of Dal’s prick, making his lover gasp and wriggle, but not deterring Dal from getting into his present.
The open box yielded silk ribbon, about three inches wide, yards and yards of it in a dark red that was going to look amazing next to Dal's skin.
"Oh, what a beautiful color." Dal lifted it, letting it just drape down over and around them.
"I'm going to wrap you up in it, baby. Head to toe and all the bits that stick out." He took Dal's prick into his hand, letting there be no doubt which bits he was talking about.
"Wrap me in it?" Dal's eyes went wide, cock jerking in his hand. Oh, yes. Someone was listening.
"Yes. I'm making you my favorite Christmas present ever."
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