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Trent’s Thoughts on 50 Shades of Grey

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“50 Shades of Dom hatred”

I read this in a posting over on Kitty Thomas‘ blog a while back.  I think it might be a perfect summation of what the success of the 50 Shades of Grey erotic trilogy means for the BDSM community in the short term. If you haven’t read, please click on over and have a look. Well worth your time.

Ironically enough, the success of E.L. James’ series is not a black or white, good or bad thing for BDSM practitioners (I don’t really like ‘kinksters’ as a descriptor). In the short run, there are both positives and negatives, while in the long run I think it will be almost uniformly helpful to BDSM – but not for the reasons you may think. In fact, in an odd way, the success may help push BDSM back into the “underground” somewhat. I will explain why in a bit.

Here are some of the short term benefits as I see them:

  1. “normalizing” of BDSM (i.e. people will realize that a whole lot of other people are interested in this stuff)
  2. sparks discussion in an honest manner not littered with snickering and general snark (I can’t tell you what kind of damage farces such as Exit to Eden do to BDSM; luckily nodody saw that movie, so it could have been a lot worse)
  3. more people will try it or talk about it with their significant others – this is only a good thing IMO
  4. will be a boon to erotica and erotic romance writers in a general sense ( a rising tide lifts all boats)

Short term detriments:

  1. kink tourists – people will “join in” as more of a lark than any real urge to explore their sexuality
  2. people will develop an unrealistic idea of BDSM based on the novels; by all accounts the novels are at best sugar-kink and at worst vanilla with a thin kink veneer.
  3. 50 Shades “clones” pushed by publishers
  4. PC police descend on the community – you thought it was bad when SSC was used as a cudgel to keep us unruly pervs in line? Now, comes “mainstream” kink – a contradiction in terms – that we’ll have to fall in line behind (or argue against).

In the long term though, I think 50 Shades could do for BDSM fiction what Twilight or the Harry Potter trilogy did for young adult and fantasy fiction, respectively. Like those books, the literary merit of the story or authorial talent ceases to matter – it’s the activity and the conversations sparked that matter.

How long has BDSM been whispered about, snickered about, or outright ridiculed? You can still be fired for being kinky, and quite legally at that. But it is NOT legal to be fired for being gay or lesbian. Now, the 50 Shades phenomenon is getting “regular” people talking about BDSM in :::shock::: a serious manner.

Now, many of the readers will be truly shocked and/or repelled by what those of us regard as “real” BDSM. That’s OK with me; it by default restores the “forbidden” to BDSM that may have been part of its initial appeal to many of us. That being said, we do need more honesty and openness about sexuality, and even if it results in a tsunami of kink tourists, this will encourage such openness. Maybe only 5% of these tourists decide to explore more deeply, and tap into something within themselves that speaks to needs far beyond the confines of the 50 Shades storyline? Is that ultimately a good thing? Hell yes, it is.

There are many of us who consider ourselves more or less “kinky” and actually regard being different as a badge of honor. However, the success of the series shows that there is a vast cohort of people who are at least intrigued by BDSM. As Kitty Thomas has stated many times on her blog, these readers may not be as vanilla as they think they are. The suppression of  the (at one time) very popular “bodice ripper” storylines in the Romance genre by the PC police doesn’t mean readers aren’t still interested in it. That to me is the most fascinating subtext to the 50 Shades phenomenon: readers want to read this stuff – a LOT of this stuff. If they can’t get it in the more “acceptable” Romance forms, then they will get it somewhere else.

Maybe 50 Shades helps revive the “bodice ripper” in the same way self-publishing is starting to revive the moribund gothic romance genre? My guess is that it continues to benefit erotic romance (which has seen more and more successes that embrace some rather dark storylines) and to a lesser extent, erotica.  It’s way too early to tell, but more genres mean more choices. This is always a good thing for readers and authors both.

What do you think? What is your take on the 50 Shades phenomenon?

 

Trent

30 Days of Kink: Day 3 and 4

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Day 3: How did you discover you’re kinky?

Day 4: Any early experiences that, in retrospect, hint at your kinks? 

Combining these two as they will result in almost identical answers.

There are two answers to how I discovered I was kinky. I am still not entirely comfortable with the label “kinky”, but you already know my take on labels.

One, I always thought I was a little, well, different. I loved things like the damsel in distress themes in fantasy fiction. I thought it was disturbingly hot to see Fay Wray in chains in the ancient King Kong black and white (no, I’m not an old man…). Did everybody else think that was hot, as in sexually arousing? Well, I did and I knew I was weird because of it. Ah, the movie Dragonslayer – way too many subtexts to go into on that one. Possibly the first movie that combined my deep and abiding love for fantasy, and my nascent interest in the dirty. But Princess Elspeth. Sweet, noble, dark hair, beautiful…and in chains before the dragon. Um, yeah. I KNEW I wasn’t supposed to find that hot – but damn it was. Freak.

I remember watching the movie Splash and there was a backside shot of Daryl Hannah running on the beach. I remember thinking I wanted to smack her ass (and it was a great ass too). I think I was ten. 

Yeah…maybe that just means I was a heterosexual male. Who knows.

I remember watching Conan the Barbarian as a kid (probably not the best viewing for impressionable young minds, but I was a sneaky bastard), and loving the slavegirl subtexts at various points in that movie. Here is this movie, supposedly an action adventure and I am ogling the chicks. One track mind, even back then. So in a way, I’ve always known I was a little different, but I wouldn’t have even considered calling it “kinky”.

Now, “sick”? Maybe…

The second answer is that I really discovered I was kinky when I realized I wasn’t alone. Reading fiction helped a lot in this for me as a teenager. Lord did I read a lot of fiction – and you can guess what a lot of it was. I read everything I could find. I gradually realized that if people were writing this stuff, then that meant I wasn’t the only one reading it. I still thought I was a freak though. Then the internet came along and I of course devoured everything I could read – sexual or otherwise. That was the Aha! moment. There were literally thousands, maybe tens of thousands like me. Even better, I could see that though yes, I was a freak, that I was  way over on the mild end of the freak spectrum compared to others. You know that saying that somebody always has it worse? Yeah, others did. Does it make me a good person to think that? Not technically, but I felt better knowing I was less of a freak 🙂

There aren’t actually a lot of early experiences (i.e. childhood) that I can point to. I’m sure there must have been some, but I can’t remember anything that sticks out in my mind as being anything other than just kids being kids. Dang.

Now, there were experiences as an older teenager that were…but I don’t think I am going to share them here. Probably not appropriate for the thread. So, I will skip to young adulthood. I had a girlfriend (doesn’t everyone’s nasty stories start with “I had this girlfriend/boyfriend…”) who was the first person on Earth I let see what kind of filth I was reading. She not only didn’t freak out, she liked a lot of it. Score big points for GF!

Not only that, apparently I wasn’t the only one hiding the freak side. She came to my work one morning, and dragged me out to the parking lot. First she flashed me her tits right there  in the parking lot. I of course scolded her for trying to get me fired or arrested. She said fine “punish me for it.”

HOLY SHIT.

She had one of those thin, fine chains in her pocket for some reason and handed it to me. Then she told me to whip her with it. She then proceeded to bend over the hood of my car, wiggle her ass, and look back at me with this affected fearful expression. My, my the temptation to do it was visceral, overpowering.

The instinct to avoid jail was stronger, and Trent’s common sense prevailed – barely.

I told her I wanted to spank her before sex one night and she not only acquiesced but told me I should spank before we have sex every time. These are the times when it’s good to be Trent. I found later on that she liked pain during sex, and I realized (though wouldn’t yet admit it to myself) that I liked giving it. It didn’t work out with that girl, but after that I realized more fully who and what I was. More importantly, I realized that if I found the right woman, I could be who I really was. After that relationship, I have always incorporated some level of kink into things, depending on the woman involved.

But I will shut my mouth before I get myself into trouble. What about you? When did you realize you were kinky? Did you have any experiences that crystallized that fact for you?

Until Day 5.

Best,

Trent

Trent guest posts at Alta Hensley’s blog

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Hello all,

The fine author Alta Hensley was kind enough to let me hone in on her blog territory for just a bit today. The subject of the blog posting is anal discipline in Domestic Discipline or BDSM relationships. If you have a few minutes, pop on over and have a read.

While you’re there have a look at her books. She writes some great (read: HOT) domestic discipline erotic romances. Thanks again Alta for having me!

(30 DoK to be continued shortly…)

 

Trent

30 Days of Kink: Day 2

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Oh boy, this thing isn’t messing around; it’s going right for the jugular with these prompts. Here goes nothing…

List your kinks.

This would be a shorter list if I listed the kinks I didn’t like, but I will shamelessly copy BDSM author Sadey Quinn here and use a top ten list. However, I won’t rank it – I’ll just list them in no particular order.

Note – all of this assumes her consent. Non-consent is the provenance of fantasy, my friends.

– Spanking/Corporal punishment –

Shocker right? A Dom who likes spanking? Well that’s me I guess Mr. Unoriginal sadist 😉

So, why I like this is self-explanatory: you get to hurt her, embarrass her (with her exposure to you), and feel her luscious ass all at once. It doesn’t get better than that for guys like me. Spanking is the most intimate punishment, and you can cause a surprising amount of sting and visually pleasing marks with the hand. Most importantly, it’s the safest, by far, form of corporal punishment. A Dom’s hand is meant to fit around the curvy bottom of his sub. It’s cosmic.  (I’m such a sap…)

I really, really like the cane too, for two reasons: it hurts like a sonofabitch, and if it’s done right, it leaves those glorious tramlines. It takes practice (and honestly, I need a lot more of it), but it is so damn fun to use the cane. So little effort to expend – literally, the flick of your wrist – to transport your darling to another world of pain and arousal.

Word of warning – BE FUCKING CAREFUL. She is trusting you with her vulnerable little ass, so don’t blow it by hurting her (more than you intend to anyway). She’ll love you for it.

– Humiliation –

I really struggled with this when I first came to grips with who I really was. Why would I like to humiliate her? Basically, it’s about control. She has given you control over her (notice how I said “given”? – yeah consent is important). I like to show her that I can do whatever I want with her. I don’t like public humiliation unless both she and the witnesses to said humiliation are part of it. In short the allure of  non-consensual public humiliation needs to stay in the realm of fantasy. I like it there just fine (OK, I love non-con humiliation in fiction), believe me  – and judging by erotica sales, lots of other people do too. Subtle humiliation can be so, so hot. It’s more psychological than anything. You’re invading, controlling her feelings – in a way it’s even more potent than physical control. Make her go to dinner with you in that tight white tank top, so everyone gets a good view of those big, wobbling tits? So sweet. Forbid her to wear underwear of any kind to work that day? She gets to worry if her weeping cunt will leave a wet spot on her skirt as she sits at her desk thinking about it. OK, maybe she’d do something to prevent such a thing. The point is you’re making her deal with that, making her think about it. Truly awesome : )

(An aside here. If you like humiliation in your BDSM fiction, then you need to go immediately to Sadey Quinn’s blog and from there go buy her books. Or you can just start here, then go here. I have read a LOT of BDSM fiction and I think she writes some of the best BDSM and humiliation I’ve ever read. Seriously, go now. You won’t regret it.)

– Pony Play / Pet Play – 

This is one I have not done IRL, but have always loved it. This plays directly into the humiliation kink, really. You are reducing someone to something less than human (in a figurative sense, of course), which is a very effective (and hardcore) form of control. If you take a step back from this it can look frankly ridiculous, but if you stay in the headspace of the woman submitting to such treatment it is incredibly hot. Displaying her body in whatever way is arousing to you rather than what she finds comfortable, depriving her of the ability to speak (bits for ponyplay/muzzles for petplay), training her to move/comport herself physically in the exact way you require  – and if she fails punishing her for it. In the case of ponyplay, you are actually reducing her to the level of a mode of transportation – pulling you as a draft horse would. It’s wacky shit to be sure, but it’s um, yeah, nice. I am going to shut up here, because I could go on a LOT longer on this one.

– Oral Servicing/”Forced” Oral/Face-fucking –

I use these various terms because it means different things to different people. A sub’s main duty is servicing her Dom or Master. Using her mouth is the natural, most subservient way of doing so. She’s on her knees before you, her hands bound tightly behind her back, your fist in her hair, dictating to her when she has to use her lips and tongue, and when she has to relax that throat and take all of you. If she gags, that’s fine; I like it. I think this is one area many “vanilla” guys can most readily understand vis-à-vis the attraction of kink. There is an element of subservience in oral sex, a constant subconscious undercurrent that serves as one of the reasons that guys like it so much. It’s more than the physical bliss of her agile tongue and soft lips; it’s something on a deeper, instinctual level. Some guys accept it and don’t examine that motivation; motor-mouths like me take it out, look at it from all angles and write a fucking essay about it <eg>

– Face Slapping – 

(Note –  I am not talking about giving her a fat lip or slapping her silly. No fucking way is that okay with me. That’s abusive. I am talking about a few crisp slaps to the cheek; nothing damaging  – other than to her pride – whatsoever.)

Very conflicted about this; I have never done this, and really I’m not sure I could. Maybe this is one of those that is better relegated to fantasy? I know, I know,  Domly McDomlersons aren’t supposed to suffer such mortal feelings as :::shock! horror!::: ambivalence. But it’s true. I think it can only be done (and really should only be done) between two people in a committed relationship or marriage. YMMV

Why? Because the level of trust it takes to allow something like this is so deep, that I would never be comfortable enough doing it in any other setting. Why so conflicted? This goes against everything men, from the earliest of ages, are (rightly) told about how to treat a woman. You don’t slap her – even if she slaps you. Chivalry, I guess.

So Trent, why is this on your list if you’re including all these qualifiers, and plastering equivocation all over it? BDSM is often about the breaking down of boundaries, pushing limits – even the Dom’s limits. I think this is, in a way, harder on a loving Dom than it is on the sub. However, in the context of a committed relationship, it could be something really, um, interesting; a sort of unfiltered, simple manifestation of a Dom’s control and imposition of his will upon her. He is literally invading her personal space in a way that’s unlike anything else; at once intimate and humiliating. In fiction when I’ve encountered it, I found it incandescently hot and it freaked me out a little at first that I would have such a reaction. But we all have to be open to new things – and be honest with ourselves.

God, I am going to get fucking murdered on this one – but I said I would be honest.

– Discipline –

OK this differs from something like spanking in that it’s more of a ritualized, purposeful act rather than spanking your sub just because you want to see her ass furnace red. Something like Domestic Discipline appeals to me. I am big on lists of rules and regulations she must follow, and discipline is what would result when she fails to meet expectations or doesn’t follow the rules. The discipline could be anything (but with me it’s going to be sexual in some way). Spanking, cornertime, anal discipline, etc – it could be whatever is most effective (or just what I feel she needs at the time).  I find the idea of maintenance spanking/discipline smokin’ hot. (e.g. she gets a spanking on a set night once per week/month/whatever just on general principles). Maintenance spanking does a few things:

  • It punishes her for anything he may have missed (she pays for something he overlooked; ah sweet injustice – the life of a slave <eg>).
  • It reinforces her submission to her Dom, and the fact that she is subject to him.
  • It gives her something to fret about, dread (and lets be honest, get wet over) all week long until her next maintenance spanking.
  • It’s a great excuse to put his hands on her gorgeous ass.

This is another topic I am going to zip it about – could write a damned book about this one alone.

– Piercing/Tattoos – 

These fit into kink like a hand in a glove (or a cock in a pussy to use a more appropriate metaphor). Something so hot about having her flesh pierced at your direction, claiming her as your own. Nipples IMO cry out for rings, but then again I am a perv. Yes, it’s possible to have too many rings, but for me that has to go pretty far to reach that point. I find tattoos simply beautiful, and would probably like them (on women) even if I wasn’t a twisted bastard. I find them aesthetically pleasing, and not just in a sexual way (although that’s a BIG part of it). The relative permanence of tattoos makes them something special that sets them apart from piercing in a way.

Piercing and tattooing is about pain and possession: she goes through that pain to mark herself as your possession. Day-um.

-Sharing-

Sharing your sub with other Doms/Masters. This seems natural to me, especially in a Master/slave context. The idea of loaning out your sub to another Dom, or perhaps working on her with another Dom is something that appeals to me. I’ve never done it, but I know I’d love it. By sharing her, you are again demonstrating your control, your ownership of her. Sharing gives you a chance to see how she is with other Doms. Perhaps you realize you’ve been going too easy on her when you see her respond to different, harsher treatment from another Dom. Maybe you realize your sub, who had always previously declared herself 110% hetero, may have been not entirely honest when you see her cunt weeping as she takes that hard spanking from a Mistress. Adding another variable tends to makes things more interesting; it can open up greater vistas, more possibilities.

-Breast Bondage/Torture – 

I am fixated on the female buttocks; I think that’s a requirement to get your spanko card. But I am equally fascinated by breasts. I know, another true newsflash, right? Bound breasts; the itchy rope abrading her tender flesh, the pale skin tight and smooth to the touch, the globes bulging under the stricture. Holy hotness Batman! Whipping them, slapping them (love this), squeezing them. The nipples are just so vulnerable. They call out to us to both pleasure and hurt them. It makes no sense; it’s a storm of contradiction. But it doesn’t matter-  human desires rarely make sense.

What’s not to love about breasts?

-The Crying/Comforting Dichotomy-

Not sure if this is a kink or maybe just a mind-set. I enjoy spanking a sub until she cries. Sadistic? Probably, but what if you factor in how much better she feels after a good cry? Some subs need that cry, want it. They don’t want it because they are crazy head-cases. They want the release, the unburdening of tension and anxiety that comes with that crying. Ask a woman how she feels after a good hard cry. A lot of the time, she will tell you they feel so much better. Does this mean we should going around beating women’s asses willy-nilly “for their own good”? Um, no. My point is that their reactions are a lot more complicated then they would appear on the surface.

Maybe she’s just had 20 searing strokes with the cane, and her ass is on fire. The tears are streaming down her beautiful face. Am I turned on by those tears? Hell yes, I am. Is it because those tears are her physiological reaction to the severe pain? Or is it because those tears are a catharsis, a way to release those emotions bottled up inside. Maybe she just wants to lose control of everything and abandon herself to emotion and sensation?What’s the answer? I don’t know. Females, and female subs in particular, are fascinating, complicated creatures. Any Dom who thinks he has them figured out is a fucking liar.

Here is the really fucked up part of it for me. I love the comforting afterward (the “aftercare”); it actually turns me on (yes, physically). It’s her vulnerability that does it. She’s surrendered to you. Yours to protect and comfort; care for and shelter. The soothing, kissing away her tears, whispering in her ear. Holding her – just holding her. Maybe she falls asleep, maybe we talk about nothing at all. Just talk. This is when you have reached that privileged inner sanctum of a sub’s mind. It’s truly intimate. No walls, no facades – just her. A man and a woman. Living, experiencing, sharing – loving.

Maybe that wasn’t quite a top 1o list per se, but whatever it was, it was brutally effing honest. I know I will be raked over the coals for some of it. Oh well – no guts, no glory. Maybe some lucky woman will read this and have the courage to tell her beloved husband what she really desires. Maybe somewhere a man will sit down with his wife and talk about why they’ve been fighting, why he’s been holding himself back from being what he really is, what he really wants to be with her.

It’s why I am doing this. If this helps just one couple connect, this will be worth it. See you for Day 3… oh dear Lord help me.

Trent

30 Days of Kink – Day One

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Well here’s something you don’t see everyday: a guy answering the 30 Days of Kink questions. I told my friend Sadey Quinn that I would follow along with her own postings and answer the questions too.

Now it’s time for me to pay the piper.

Some tough guy I am, eh? This is a lot harder then I anticipated. What the hell, and this may ramble some, but here goes (nobody reads this blog anyway)…

Dom, sub, switch? What parts of BDSM interest you? Give us an interesting in-depth definition of what that means to you. Basically define your kinky self for us.

My name is Trent Evans and I really, really dislike labels. What, I have to choose something? OK, fine. Dominant, I guess – but you could easily throw in Master, Sadist, spelunker, etc. OK, maybe not spelunker, but still, the labels bother me.

I will put it this way: I enjoy control. Controlling a submissive. Imposing my will on her. There, that’s crystallized enough, I think. I love both physical and psychological control. Here’s where the sadist streak in me comes into play: I am a lifelong spanko (giving, not receiving). Love it, in all its forms, from the simple hand to the cane. It’s all great, amazing. “Impact play” – eh, that term leaves me cold. Just call it spanking, paddling, caning, whatever – and people will immediately identify with it, love it or hate it.

Spanking is so tied up into physical and psychological control (not to mention emotions) that it is the quintessence of imposing your will on another. You make her feel that pain, feel that humiliation (if that’s part of what you’re after; it certainly interests me!), feel the arousal – you just make her feel. It’s as much a visual/tactile enjoyment as it is a psychological one. You tell her she’s to be spanked that evening, and you make her wait all day to find out how, where, with what.

You make her feel.

Trepidation, fear, arousal, pain, anticipation; her sensations and emotions are as important, if not more so, than getting to lay your hand all over her curvy ass as you spank her. There is little that’s more enjoyable in life than watching your sub orgasm, crying out, writhing in spite of, because of, the sensations you’ve made her experience. It’s something maybe only doms (or switches) understand. It’s even better than getting off yourself (not that that isn’t awesome or of paramount importance either). But breaking down her shields, making her surrender to sensation, making her face the real her – the basics of what makes her tick. That my twisted friends is control, and nothing is better. OK, that’s not quite true though, but “Doms/Masters/Sadists” aren’t supposed to say it in public. There is one thing better:

Love.

(Don’t let it get out that I said such a blasphemous thing.)

Maybe that’s getting too far into the whys of things, but there it is, straight from Trent.

You guys bored yet? Don’t answer that.

Now there are aspects of BDSM that I love that may not translate as well from fantasy into real life. Here’s a short list:

Sexual slavery? Awesome.

Humiliation?  :::Pichard voice::: “Engage!”

Pony play? RAD.

Pet Play? Check.

I am fascinated, fascinated, by the concept of consensual non-consent. Think of it as consent by plebiscite, if you will. But I emphasize the consensual part of the equation. It absolutely has to be something she wants, and she has to choose it unequivocally – once.

Really, really difficult to pull off morally (or legally, really), but that one is straight from the darkest, fevered recesses of Trent’s fantasy bank.  Probably TMI? Well TFB (too fucking bad).

I’m going to end the list there, because there is a lot more to it and I think the next 30 days will be better places to share some of this.

:::I can’t believe I am sharing this. I need a drink :::

What do you think? Shut up Trent? Or do you want to hear more?

BDSM, Fantasy – and Vampires?

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One of the best things about being an independent author is the freedom to write whatever you want, when you want to, the way you want to. I love many things, so for my second release I combined three of my loves: fantasy, BDSM, and vampires. Is this a risk? Sure it is; cross-genre fiction always is risky. But I don’t care. I had a blast writing it. If even one person agrees with me, and loves it too, then I will consider this one a successful release.

So, here it is: A Lady and a Maid. This is a 40K word short novel of longing, sex, pain, blood and even romance. This is erotica, but this also has a love story (or the beginnings of one), and my hope is that it will appeal to both women and men. Please have a look at the sample on Amazon (different than the excerpt posted on this blog) and let me know what you think. I hope you like it!

My paranormal erotic novelette A Message of Love will be running as free for the next two days (April 11-12) and A Lady and a Maid will be discounted as a new release.

Next up, projected for a second week of May release date, is a new sub-genre for me (no paranormal this time). It’s a long novella called The Change, and it’s going to take some courage for me to release this one into the wild…

Now, back to writing.

Minimizing the dreaded Distraction, and the wonders of the Interwebz

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As writers are known to do, my mind wanders (sometimes it wanders even when I’m not writing), and when it does I have to set my WIP aside. Sometimes things just can’t be forced, and you have to let the noodle meander a bit. You meticulous outliners out there should try it once in a while:)

To avoid giving my brain a chance to wander, I typically try to minimize distractions while I write. Now, while I don’t pull a nutty Jimmy Cameron and lock myself in a room for two weeks straight with nothing but a stack of notebooks and a box of pens, I DO go to some lengths to focus.

TV? Forget it.

Phone? I literally put it in another room – too tempting.

Ditto the Kindle Fire (the urge to read, even while I am supposed to be writing, is sometimes overwhelming).

What about the internet? Now there is the sticky wicket. Most writers swear by turning it off, or using a non-connected computer, or even writing in :::horrors::: longhand. Me, I can’t do it. The internet has to be there. I need it to answer any number of questions that pop into my head while I am writing (or thinking about what I am writing). It is the greatest boon to writers since the invention of movable type.

As great as the internet is, it’s also easily the biggest distraction for a writer. And, I will be honest:  I have blown a ton of time on the interwebz. I shudder to think what my productivity could be, without its seductive, addictive allure. Writers are by nature endlessly, almost pathologically, curious, and the internet is like crack for curious souls.

At this point, you’re asking yourselves: “Where the hell are you going with this, dude?”

OK, here is my point. Sometimes despite the time sink that are the Interwebz, something makes everything worth it. It happens when you stumble upon a great website. I write erotic romance and erotica. Sex is on my mind a lot. Wow, what a newsflash. Sometimes, I think I’ve read/seen/done it all. Then I come across a site like Taken in Hand. Since my particular area of concentration is BDSM, it seemed inconceivable that I wouldn’t have stumbled across this site long ago. I hadn’t, but I think I know why: it’s not really a site about BDSM per se . What it most definitely is though, is an absolute fucking treasure trove of inner thoughts, fears, and desires of female submissives. I began reading the riveting accounts of real submissives, and before I knew it, 4 hours were gone. POOF. We’re talking HALO levels of time acceleration here; for you non-gamers that means time just goes by really, really fast.

As a “dominant” “sadist” “master” whatever I am (hate labels), it’s like getting the keys to the steam tunnels under Disneyland. We big bad wolves get a peek into the workings of the mind of that most alluring of creatures, the female submissive. You may think you know all there is to know about submissives, but I assure you, when you read the accounts on this massive site, you will learn something new. The subs on the site almost uniformly express their submission as part of a committed heterosexual relationship (there is NO gay/lesbian bashing though), but the funny, scorching hot, sometimes poignant postings and articles will fascinate anyone, regardless of their current relationship status. The insight, humor, wisdom and honest, positive sexuality discussed there is like nowhere else I’ve ever seen. I can’t rave about it enough.

Why do I talk about this in a writing blog? I don’t really know. I just love the place, and for other erotica writers, especially those coming from the dominant’s perspective – there I go labeling myself – they will find it an amazing, edifying, and arousing (both physically and intellectually) place. Click over to it, just go. Now. You won’t regret it.

What do you think? Are there other discussion sites similar to Taken In Hand that you’ve come across?

What to do, what to do…

By

A Lady and a Maid is now in edits. I’m exhausted from it, and I am only about two thirds of the way done.

Writing, yes; editing, HELL NO.

One of the things that I’ve been struggling with (aside from the aforementioned slog of editing) is the categorization of this particular story. I don’t know about other erotica writers, but I really am torn between whether to take a story down an erotic romance track, or pile on the chains, crops and gags and scream down the erotica road in a jacked-up truck with a “Fuck Happily Ever Afters” bumper sticker on the back.

With my second (soon to be) published work I’ve tried to have my cake and spank her too. How’s that for a perverted mangling of a worn out idiom? Look, I’m tired, OK?

The story began as a single scene, and then – as my depraved mind is wont to do – a whole cascading series of ‘what-if’ questions started. Eventually, I just started writing as the questions kept coming. Writing this thing was almost 100% seat-o-yer-pants, which is highly unusual for me; I typically use notes and a rudimentary outline to string all the notes/ideas into a coherent story arc. With this one it was about as non deliberate as it gets; it just came out. Now it will be up to you, dear readers, to tell me if it sucks or not 🙂

There is one other issue that is a potential landmine with this story: F/F sex. This has some (of course of the D/s variety), which is something that is less common in erotic romance –  though well represented in erotica. I included the F/F interaction for three reasons:

  1. I thought it was hot, and I hope the readers do too.
  2. It’s actually part of the characterization of Lady Miriam, one of the main players in the story.
  3. See #1.

Now, where I have tried to straddle the two genres is with the love story between the characters of Owen and Sophie. I really wanted to tell their story, while hinting at the details of the larger world they inhabit. I hope I’ve at least partially succeeded.

I set out to write this as an erotic romance, but I allowed myself to follow the story where it took me. It ended up erotica, and fairly harsh erotica at that. I hope I haven’t managed to alienate my female readers with this, but the story had to be told the way it is.

So, on the off chance that I am not the only person reading this blog, I have a few questions for readers: Do you think F/F can have a place in erotic romance, as long as it’s clear that that type of content is included in the story? Do you wish there were more F/F scenes or relationships in erotic romance? Lastly, do you think there is a difference in how F/F D/s is handled as opposed to M/F D/s? What would you like to see in F/F D/s?

Excerpt from A Lady and a Maid

Westwood Manor

“What’s she done to deserve this Miriam?” Sandra, her rouged lips pursed, glanced over at her friend.

Miriam strolled over from her great mirror and stood close to her friend, Miriam’s shapely dark-haired form a pleasing visual contrast to the slender fair figure of the Countess.

“Oh, she still has this silly idea that she gets some say as to what, or more to the point, whom she lays with,” the handsome lady said, wagging a long beringed finger up and down dismissively. “She’s being shown the error of her ways.”

“I see. Not content with her station in life is she?”

“Not exactly,” Miriam said, staring down at the subject of the conversation. “She serves passably well, especially at table. But she still can’t get used to the fact that this is a house run by a woman, and that as a servant of the house, she is expected to serve that woman’s needs – all of them.”

“Missing a boy back home or some such?”

“Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but the girl seems to be averse to women. Sad, but true. Isn’t that right, dove?” Miriam said, raising her voice slightly.

“Ah, not a good attitude to have here at House Westwood, girl. You’d be wise to shape up quickly,” the Countess said, her voice soft.

“She has this odd notion of only being attracted to men, and says she’s never been with a woman before!”

“How selfish of her! What a bizarre thing for a girl to think Miriam!”

“Isn’t it though?,” Miriam said, lighting a few more candles about the dim room. “It’s as if she thinks it matters that she’s only attracted to men. Servants do just that – they serve. She just needs to come to grips with the fact that a major part of her duties here in my house, indeed the most important duty, is attending me. Until she gets that through her thick skull, I am just going to have to train her in proper behavior at this manor.”

“Well, I can hardly make anything between these bars and the fact that she’s tucked away in this corner, love. Perhaps we might get a better look at her?” The Countess’ clear blue eyes sparkled brighter in the fire-lit bedroom.

“Oh, I suppose we can Sandra. She’s in there to think, to decide if she’s going to accept the truth of things.” Miriam stooped down, her movement graceful, her hands smoothing the wrinkles out of her deep green silk dress. Her friend, clad only in a sheer white gown, lace décolletage only partially concealing jutting breasts, knelt down as well, face slightly flushed, eyes intent.

“She’s only been in there a half hour. It’d be a shame to spoil the lesson by letting her out too soon,” Miriam said, considering, fingers toying with the golden lock affixed to the hasp.

The ‘she’ in question, was a naked girl. She looked perhaps nineteen or twenty, and was very fair of skin (though the low light betrayed just how fair). The girl was in a small cage ensconced in a corner of the noble’s luxuriously appointed bedroom. The round steel bars of the cage were closely spaced, dull gray in color. She knelt, or to be more accurate, was forced to kneel tightly over, her body practically bent double, the cage being scarcely more than three feet in height. She faced away from the two ladies, so it was impossible to make out much more of her countenance. A thick rope of her dark brown hair was wrapped casually around one of the bars crossing the top of the cage.

“You couldn’t get some more light over here could you Miriam?” the Countess asked, keen on getting a better view of the girl.

“Oh certainly, Sandra.” Miriam retrieved a large glass-shrouded candelabra and set it on the nightstand next to the forlorn little cage.

The splash of warm yellow light illuminated the pale, broad orbs of the buttocks planted solidly on her heels, the vulnerable soles of her feet visible beneath the lush curves. In the cramped confines of the tiny cage, her posture prostrate, the dusky crack of her bottom yawned open, clearly exposing the wrinkled whorl of the anus, the perineum, and the dark, fur shrouded contours of plump labia below.

Indeed the cage was such a tight fit that the girl’s ample bottom pressed against the sides and back of the enclosure, flesh slightly bulging into squares within the rigid confinement. The bars crossed the bottom of the cage too, and one could see that they must have galled the smooth planes of the girl’s shins terribly.

Even in this closely crouched position with the girl’s bosom pressed to her thighs, Sandra could see that the captive nude was possessed of full breasts; their soft, pale curves bulged invitingly out to either side, contrasting with the delicate pattern of the girl’s rib cage.

The girl’s arms were bent behind her, reaching up and around one of the bars crossing the top of the cage, the delicate wrists clasped in metal cuffs. Sandra could see that the girl wasn’t entirely naked either, though what she did have on hardly afforded any protection from the gaze of the two noblewomen.

The cuffs were clipped to a fine, silver linked chain stretched taut to a ring embedded in the back of a broad belt. This belt clasped her lower waist, stretching round to pass just above the dimples of her bottom. The black leather was tight, the flesh bulging slightly both above and below, and made the swell of the girl’s voluptuous bottom even more pronounced.

Sandra thought she knew with some fair certainty why this particular girl was subject to the attentions of her friend Lady Westwood. The majestic raven-haired mistress of Westwood Manor was well known among her wide circle of friends for her feverish penchant for well-fleshed lasses, especially those blessed (or cursed) with a big, round bottom. She knew Miriam would make the girl wish she’d never been blessed with such bountiful buttocks.

“Ah, those shoulders must be a trifle uncomfortable by now Miriam. How about having her out for a spot? Just to get a look at what you’re working with,” the Countess said, turning her head to her friend.

“She has a lot longer to look forward to in there, but I suppose there won’t be any harm in having her out for a little tea-time stretch. She’ll no doubt be grateful for it.” Miriam said, winking at her friend.

The willowy mistress gazed at the prostrate servant a moment longer; a fingernail leisurely drawing a light furrow into the skin of one of the girl’s buttocks. Miriam fished a necklace out of her deep cleavage, from which (much to the delight of the Countess) hung a tiny golden key. She opened the small lock at the hasp, carefully tucking the key back between her breasts.

After unwinding the rope of the girl’s hair from the crossbar, Miriam unclasped the chain from the ring at the back of the girl’s belt, letting the chain slide down to the floor of the cage. She then pulled the girl’s arms straight up behind her. This allowed her to swing the heavy top of the cage up on groaning hinges. As the girl’s hair fell to one side of her back, the dark leather of two straps could be seen emerging from around the front of the girl’s face. The straps diverged, one reaching around the base of the skull along the hairline, the other snaking higher up the back of the skull, submerged in her thick hair.

With a hand clasped firmly to one of the girl’s upper arms, the olive color of her hand clashing with the creamy whiteness of the prisoner’s flesh, Lady Westwood helped the girl straighten. The fingers of Miriam’s other hand lightly played about the crimson tips of the plump breasts as the girl stood, her movement halting, and stepped out of the cage. The Lady used another key to pop open the metal cuffs, hanging them on one of the cage’s bars.

The girl immediately started to whimper and twist, her knees rubbing together, toes wiggling, rubbing the abraded skin of her wrists. Her soulful green eyes were near to overflowing with tears, the lips pulled back in a rictus by a thick black rubber-coated bit clenched between white teeth. A bit of saliva could be seen at the corners of her mouth, as well as at the lowest part of her bottom lip. Straps crossed her cheeks tightly from either end of the bit to wrap around the back of her head.

“Pins and needles, dear. She’s been in there a bit, as you know,” Miriam said matter-of-factly in response to Sandra’s questioning look.

The Lady made no attempt to comfort or assist the girl, merely content to observe her discomfort as circulation returned fully to her lower limbs. After a minute or two, when the girl’s wriggling had subsided, Miriam guided her over to the foot of the huge, richly appointed bed, and bade her sit upon the magenta duvet cover.

“Don’t get too comfortable now Sophie. Once the Countess has had her look at you, it’s back in your cage. You still have a lot to think about, and you aren’t getting out of your quiet time that easily,” said the Lady. She stood before the sitting girl, her arms crossed below the swell of her bosom.

“Yes, I see why you picked her Miriam. Very nice indeed.” The Countess pressed on the girl’s arms clutched protectively around her bosom. The bright pink bands of cuff-abraded skin on her wrists emphasized the pallor of her breasts. The Countess’ fingers moved up to trace the length of the bit, touching the girl’s soft rose lips.

“Might we pop this out too Miriam? These lips do look enchanting, and I can’t really see them pulled back so.”

“Of course, my dear,” Miriam said, unclasping the buckles at the back of Sophie’s head. The bit loosened, and fell away trailing dark straps, landing with a wet slap on the girl’s pale thigh. The corners of the unfortunate girl’s mouth were inflamed, almost blood red. The straps left fading furrows crossing both cheeks. Both women watched a moment as Sophie worked her mouth and lips to try and return some sensation to the numbed flesh. The bit had apparently been just as galling as it looked.

“Hands up now. No, behind your head. You know better than to cover up,” Miriam said, her dark brows furrowed momentarily. The nude laced her fingers behind her head, widening her elbows at a barked command from the Lady.

The girl was well-built, even tending toward powerful. Strong shoulders contrasted against the slender muscles of her arms. The breasts were full, hanging heavily on her chest. The nearly smooth areolae were wide and brown, accented with prominent, dark nipples. The belly was soft, but smooth, the inky depth of her navel a pleasing counterpoint to the pale planes of her abdomen. There was the slightest curve to her belly down to the rather prominent curls adorning the pubis. Her hips flared wide from the narrow waist, and she looked as if she might have to watch her weight when she was further along in years. But now in the prime of her youth, her hips merely advertised her luscious femininity.

The Countess glanced at Miriam. “May I?”

“By all means Sandra; it’s what she’s here for,” Miriam said, smiling at her friend.

Sandra ran a finger along the line of the girl’s biceps, tracing the smooth flesh to the underarm. She rubbed a few of the dark curls there between her fingers, looking at Miriam with a raised eyebrow.

The Lady laughed softly, coming over to stand next to her friend again. “The peasant girls are all au naturel. I usually shear them when they come to my house to serve, but this one has such enchanting curls that I decided to keep them along with that thick thatch between her thighs. Their men are apparently quite taken by this natural growth. I’m starting to see the wisdom in their preferences.”

“Oh I agree,” Sandra murmured. Though she was at first shocked at the curls, she could see the attraction. In a way they made the girl seem more vulnerable, less in control of her own body. More of an animal. Enchanting indeed.

Sandra tickled a fingertip through the hollows of Sophie’s collarbones, then ran a bejeweled finger through the girl’s cleavage, tasting the sweat from between the heavy breasts. Miriam brought over a stool padded in black leather for Sandra to sit upon, so that she might be more comfortable in her examination of the nude captive.

Sandra cupped a breast gently, lifting its heavy weight in her palm, while with her other hand she worried the nipple between finger and thumb until it stood at rigid attention.

“Such breasts,” Sandra said. She grasped the nipple hard between thumb and index finger and pulled upward, exposing the tender white underside of the globe. Sophie hissed softly, then flinched as Sandra lay the cool back of her hand against the warm flesh under the breast.

“Be still Sophie,” Miriam said. “She hasn’t even hurt you yet.”

Jumping In (Damn it’s cold!!)

By

Well, here I am. First, there are a few things I need to get out of the way. I am a rank amateur, wet behind the ears, rook, meat, whatever you want to call me. I’m the new guy. I don’t write to make bank. I write to reach people, to make them feel, and to make them think. I would be writing even if there wasn’t a dime in it for me. I can’t help it. The money (if it ever shows up) is just gravy. I’ve always felt that if anyone was writing just for the money, then they were in the wrong line of work. Maybe I’m full of shit, but there it is.

The Beginning

After reading extensively on the pros and cons of self-publishing, I thought I would give it a shot. The worst that can happen is…nothing. We’ll get back to that. I decided to start with the KDP Select program, in the hopes of exposing my work to the largest amount of readers possible. I know, I know; you’re asking why I didn’t release widely to Smashwords and Pubit! along with Kindle. The answer? I didn’t feel like it, dammit! I’m kidding. The real answer is: I’m still learning, and hadn’t really thought about it. A mistake, yes, but if we’re smart we learn from our mistakes.

I’ll back up a bit here. I put together a business plan before I published. Stop snickering you guys in the back! Yes, to be successful in self-publishing I believe you need a business plan. How can you reach your goal without a plan to get there? How do you expect to publish 5,10, or even 15 novels a year if you have no idea what needs to be done in order to achieve those goals? Answer: you won’t. Now, I hate goal-setting. I know I’m not supposed to say that out loud, but I know I’m not alone in that sentiment either. I hate going to the dentist too, but it doesn’t mean I can just skip it.

I drew up a spreadsheet with a yearly goal of 9 published works (about a 50/50 mix of novels and novellas) before the end of 2012. I broke down the year into months, with their own goals. I went further by noting individual tasks and activities (e.g. crank out 2000 words on story Y, learn rudimentary HTML, copy-edit story X, etc) that must be completed by such and such date. I even went so far as to note estimated word count per day needed to finish the individual works on time to make the goals. Ambitious for a first time writer? Maybe. I call it keeping my feet to the fire. See, I (like many writers with an ounce of intellectual honesty) have a lazy streak a mile wide. If I don’t have these signposts, these markers, in place I will backslide and procrastinate like a mofo. I know I will. So, goals and mini-goals it is.

Next, I tried to estimate how many books I would sell per month (on average) and extrapolated that data out to the end of the year as more and more titles are added. How did I reach these estimated numbers? They are WAGs (wild ass guesses). I had no idea. But you have to start somewhere, so I estimated on average I would sell 5-10 copies per book per month. Shitty, I know, but I set the bar low to minimize disappointment. Glass half-empty you say? Shut up.

So, with this out of the way, I decided what I wanted to publish first. It was an erotic story that I had a soft spot for called A Message of Love. I had already ruthlessly edited the story, so that was at least out of the way. I did the best I could with formatting and creating a cover on a limited budget (read: broke), and published the story. I didn’t expect much. I was right not to. For days I checked every few hours to see if there had been any buys or borrows. Crickets. Damn. I decided to yank it down and tweak a few things. I greatly improved the blurb. I added a new opening since the old opening, well, sucked. One of the things I realized was that the sampling feature puts even more onus on the writer to make the opening gripping, hot, scary, whatever. It needs to make someone want to keep reading. Writing 101, right? Well, I had screwed that up. The old opening was a slow set-up; it was laying the groundwork for what came later. Yeah, it sucked.

Then I published it again, and decided to run it for two days as free. I was happy to see that it had 205 downloads in the first 12 hours. That’s absolutely PITIFUL for almost anyone else, but for a dude with a little story lost at sea, it was a damned nice thing to see. Maybe 10% of those downloaders would actually read the thing! It was downloaded over 400 times during the first 24 hours, shooting the book into the top 40 for erotica (I think it peaked at #34 Erotica, #363 for Free). The second day saw a slow decline in the rate of downloads, but I did finally see the algorithms start doing their work. Some also viewed titles began showing up. It was five pages worth, but it was a start. There was a problem though: some of the titles while they were erotica, were nothing like my story. At first I was irritated, but then I realized that this would just take time. Both Dean Wesley Smith and Joe Konrath are constantly harping on the fact that self-publishing is a marathon, not a sprint. When I told myself that, I felt better – and kept writing. The two day promo finished out with 618 downloads and one refund. My guess is that one refund was a freebie hunter downloading the title just as the promo was ending (he got charged and said “Ah HELL no”). Oh well.

So today, the day after the two day promo, my book – unlike before – has a sales ranking! Too bad it started at 216,000 and has been sinking from there. This is reality. I am nobody. This is going to be hard, and frustrating, and heartbreaking. Tough shit! I picked this for myself and I am not giving up. Maybe I am a terrible writer (I think that’s likely), but the more I practice anything, the better I get at it. That’s a fact. So, I will take the advice of Smith and Konrath and just keep writing. Eventually, I will find someone who likes what I do. If it’s one person I’ve touched, then I will have succeeded.

Lessons

1. A good opening is critical; if you don’t have one, it won’t matter how good your cover or formatting is. Rewrite the opening until it does it’s job: hooking the reader.

2. When you are starting, you are nothing, in a sea of nothings. Put the ego aside and accept it. Luck, prolific writing, improvement in your writing ability, and Amazon’s algos will get you where you need to go. Remember, this takes time. Use that time to keep writing. And stop checking your sales numbers, dammit!

3. If you add a new opening, make sure you remember which Word file contained the latest version of the story. If you use sloppy, vague filenames like I did, you are going to be introducing your forehead to your keyboard. Don’t do what I did.

4. If you add a new opening, make sure to take the time to EDIT the fucking thing. Grrr! I forgot to even use the spellchecker. Now I have to rip the thing back down for a copy-edit. Don’t do what I did.

5. Move on. Learn from your mistakes, and resolve not to repeat them – but don’t dwell on them. Excessive self-criticism leads to paralysis.

Now, back to that writing…

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