Friday, 31 August 2012

Friday Fragments: Content from the Blogosphere

(The irony isn't lost: When this first started, comments weren't enabled. Whether you lurk, comment or merely pass by, be welcome)

Funny place, this Blogosphere.
I am having a blast with this blog and I love all the interaction it has brought; a sense of camaraderie and like-mindedness, discovered. Thank-you for reading and for the feedback. 

I read a lot of blogs; follow a great many and I am on a few loops. Sometimes I feel shy about leaving a comment or sometimes I disagree with a post so vehemently its better not to say anything at all.

For us, in this D/s journey, it is kind of hard to pick out a beginning place, while it could be said we weren't living it 24/7 there were always elements of dominance and submission well outside the bedroom. 
But back when we were deciding to take those parts and adapt it into what we have now, within the structure of our already existing relationship, I was floundering, getting lost in what to call it. 
And I needed to call it something, to try to communicate and connect with people who just might get it. 
(Which I still kind of was, when I started this blog and have since been well-schooled, finding the words to get across what I am trying to explain or write about or describe our relationship).

Anyways, back then out in real-life, there wasn't any real examples that crossed my path of couple who were married or in long-term commitments that did this D/s thing like we do it or were doing it and that kind of added to my label-finding-confusion. So when I came across the label "Domestic Discipline" it made a great deal of sense.

 It wasn't quite a good fit because it wasn't exactly what we had going on but it did seem to apply to the married/long-term-commitment folks more often than not and when I started coming across more blogs that dealt with the subject, I found it really spoke to the relationship elements of dominance and submission but a whole lot of them had a religious side to what they were blogging about or their relationships and frankly, not being a Christian a lot of it made me uncomfortable. 

I kept looking. Somehow, someway, I found Elysia and Sara's blogs and became a lurker at both blogs, for a very long time. So much of what they both have written about resonates with me. With both of their blogs, what I appreciate so much and identify so much with is the honesty, the realness and how no matter what they are sharing with their audience, they speak about their partners in such a respectful manner. 
 That I think isn't always the case on other "lifestyle" blogs.

With both Elysia and Sara's blogs, I am horribly comment shy; never knowing quite what to say, wanting to say so much but feeling slightly out of place.

Today, Elysia has a brilliant post entitled "Ten Ways that Help Introduce Domestic Discipline", it was written for a "newbie" asking for information but in my opinion, I think not only is it an excellent resource for "how to to be a submissive/how to create a d/s relationship" but can also serve as an opinion for what to do when things aren't going so well. 

Wishing you all a fantastic weekend. 

Wednesday, 29 August 2012

Like A Good Cover But Not

(No disrespect meant. Naming names, in this instance would be disrespectful. I'm summarising here, no direct quotes were taken or used in this post. 
As always, much appreciation to all the erotica writers out there...its not easy to do that genre well) 

Today books are on my mind. 
 As you've probably gathered, I'm a big fan of authors and books and reading in general. 
Rather useful skill, that can be. 
And I have touched on how in the last little while, there seems to have been a new current of change among the erotica/"erotic BDSM" being written, authors are putting forth a better quality product and readers are starting to catch on to this indie author thing, which is great. Great because like so many other things, its not always the most popular or prettiest that is the best. It's good for literary arts in general and good for one like me--though my publication goals are way down on the list. 

Have you ever had a really good experience with something you've given your senses and wanted to repeat it? Looked for it in other ways or mediums? I think its that elusive feeling that keeps one looking to maybe, hopefully find something like it in other places. 
That's the feeling this book that I really can't stop going on about, Master's Hunt sparked.

The slight downside of finding something that good and trying to recapture that feeling in other places, is for a bit you kind of get lured into thinking everything else that is like it in appearance will be as good. Regardless that its another book, written by another author it was an erotica novel with heavy BDSM themes (or so said the copy) that crossed my path shortly after reading Master's Hunt. 

Eager, I am to dive into a book that will have some in-depth characters sprinkled with realism and fantasy and a plot to keep my attention. 

I should point out that this lure also gives one temporary amnesia. Doesn't matter what I may know about books. Doesn't matter that I've had similar being-lured experiences before. Nope, new shiny book with those promises and that elusive-like-this-feeling thing.

I am not alone in this; recently walking through our local library, they had these cute little cards made up with "If You Liked (Name of Popular Best Selling Author) Try (Books of Lesser Known Authors)".

So anyways, onwards with my tale. Into the book I dive. 
Basic premise is: Male Dominant stages a  whisking-Sub Female-away-for-an-evening-of-sex-and-BDSMness. 
That took about twenty pages to cover. 
All right, so far the characters are pretty typical and the plot is predictable but I don't like to give up on a book after only twenty pages, even if that premise probably could have been covered in paragraphs shorter than this blog post. 

The characters get to his giant mansion. Ahh a setting, so maybe we'll get on with it. 

He took her up three flights of stairs, past his gigantic rooms and ever so delicately placed her on the bed.
She eagerly laid there and waited for his next move. 

By now, the doubts can't be silenced. So far nothing this character has done, reads very Male Dominant like to me, but what do I know? 

"Please wait here comfortably", the Male Dominant character said. "I'll get the protection." 

Right, now I know most of you are thinking that Male Dominants aren't usually quite so polite. But I can make a little bit of a concession here, because if you happen to know one that comes with that inherent-Canadian-politeness that was installed in most of raised by the older generations, they can be that polite, though maybe not that timid and that politeness can be excruciating in some ways. 
 These characters didn't share my nationality.

I like that they are engaging in safe-sex. That's good. 
 I wish there had been more books that mentioned safe-sex in an erotica setting back in my teens, maybe the conversations about condoms wouldn't have been so pelted with mine-fields oh and yes, I probably was reading books I shouldn't have, but besides the point.

Now, the Male Dominant character leaves the room and I wonder what the Sub Female is going to do. Actually, I'm wondering why she wasn't prepared. Its entirely acceptable that mistakes happen, but she knew she was going off on this sexual encounter. 
 All right. Maybe she isn't experienced or maybe she didn't get the advice I did back in that time when I was reading books that weren't slotted for my age-group: Never leave it up to the guy. 

Male Dominant character, goes down three stories of the gigantic staircase. 
Passing his well furnished and rich surroundings, the Male Dominant character's inner dialogue that as readers we hear, goes on and on about how protection is so important. It is vital. But after he succeeds in making Sub Female his permanent and after the doctors testing, there will be no need for protection. 

By now, I'm reading for the sake of trying to convince myself it can't be this bad. 
Maybe I'm actually not seeing the words correctly. 

Male Domiant character, goes into his study. Flips on the light, searches for the key to his desk drawer, finds the key, opens the drawer, retrieves condom. Makes his way back up three flights of stairs. 
 Female Sub is still eagerly waiting, on the bed, apparently this Female Sub has a whole lot of patience or is so enamoured with this Male Dominant character that she's willing to wait three hours for Male Dominant to come back with condom in hand. 
Or she is going to be portrayed as the doormat, that we all love so very much.
I suspect that was is it but I gave up on this story at that point. 

The old adage that performers know so well, "Make them laugh, make them cry but don't confuse them,"
 I think should be said more often in relation to writing.

If you stayed till the end of this post, thank-you. If you left in confusion, I can't say I blame you. 

Monday, 27 August 2012

One Morning After

(Continuing from Friday. Trying to make the good parts more feels like an obligatory morning-after post. Not that I mind.) 

It was a kinky filled weekend.
In the past few weeks, we have become very selfish with our weekends. Declining offers of socialising (which for me isn't exactly a hardship) and staying close to home.
It hasn't always been like this, but it has been a time to regroup with each other.
This past weekend, we had Friday night and all day Saturday and a tiny bit of Sunday and we indulged. 

It had been coming for awhile, slowly building up to this point. Horace joked that it was a week of foreplay---and I think one of the affects of a D/s relationship is how the awareness of sexuality can penetrate even the most tedious day-to-day.
      It can be all foreplay.

It was a night and a day and a day of wood and metal and silicone and leather being used in play. 
There was forced pain and withheld pleasure.
There was begging and screaming.
There was punishments turned masterfully into rewards.
There was entwined bodies and messy sheets. 

And let's call a spade a spade: it was ritualistic.
It was sex magick; blazing in colours and sensations and the power of emotions, the inexplicable power of surrendering our whole selves to all the physical demands of our bodies, together in complete unison.

Really, when it comes down to it, the sex isn't all there is to it.
A lot of the time its on a level of just getting it done.
 I mean, we're not participating in marathons nightly.

What makes this so good when we do, especially when overall things have been good and downright blissful between us, is because of the foundation we have. 
The foundation which comes from years of feeding, tending it and constantly working on our relationship and ourselves.

For us, that is also in the care we place upon the day to day acts of dominance and submission.
 For me, there is a greater emphasis on taking care of myself. Making sure, I know my own mind at least more of the time than not. Making sure I am doing all I can to meet my husband's needs and not putting any undue pressure, expectations or stress on him.
 I feel I have been growing in this submission and I like the results.

For him, it is also means taking care of himself, first.
 He doesn’t put unreasonable expectations on me, though he may push my limits in and out of the bedroom.
 From my perspective, he is also growing, too as a dominant.
 He is more assured, confident and dominant-y than he was five years ago and it is really something to see him take that sense of self, into the world. 

Today, when its back to work and our weird harried schedules, when we won't be able to talk to each other for many hours to come, I feel content. I smile when I feel my body groan in protest because I am sore in all the right places and it is something that solidifies my focus and attention to him.
It was a fun couple of days but what I especially loved was the afterwards: the cuddling, the holding, the sitting outside in the dark with tea and talking. That too is part of our foundation.
I don't expect we'll be holding marathon kinky play sessions into our sixties.
However, we are certainly open to the possibility   

Friday, 24 August 2012

Friday Fragments: Half a Still

(Thank-you to everyone who takes the time to visit this blog. The support, encouragement and feedback is so appreciated. I've been a bit absent this week--what with life doing that thing it does--and the laptop and I had a fight, which eventually I won...I don't "win" much around here, so I take glee in the small victories)

When its like this, approaching that l'heure bleue status, its lovely. 
It feels right..right as in that place of knowing.
All the doubts and anxieties, the insecurities have been silenced. 
The little things are really little and they are in a box, packed away somewhere. 
It feels like we are both aligned to each others' passions and desires and joys. 
At times like these, not only do I like my husband just that extra little bit, I like our marriage. 
I like our life. 
Even the bits and pieces that I puzzle out constantly or talk loudly about. 
Not only is it okay that we do a lot of things differently, its good, because there isn't another way for us to move. 
Its all good.
 But its not very interesting material to write about.

I often quip, "That's why I married my husband because he knows how to have fun", usually after watching him do something silly, fun or downright quirky, in front of an audience, the remark is kind of true..
I tend to take--pretty much everything, all the time-- things seriously, with intense focus.
My idea of humour is more in the "witty with a side of sarcasm" category. 
So is it any wonder why, when setting out to write a fun post for this Friday, I failed miserably?

So...because I've failed in providing you with some fun, I'll just say... I'm hoping this weekend is a kinky filled one and hope yours is...whatever you want it to be.

Monday, 20 August 2012

To Be Still

(Another short piece with nameless, faceless characters. Hope to share more vignette-type pieces, written in the same style—but with different concepts--soon) 

(C) Bleuame 2012

The floor is hard under her knees, she feels the coolness of the plaster, through her forehead against the wall. She waits, perfectly immovable.
She isn't bound by shackles, ties or ropes but she is held here by mental bondage on the strength of his command and her willingness to comply.
Her nipples are erect, partially due to the cold and the act of following the order.
Her legs are cramping, a slight discomfort but it is furthest from her mind.

He enters the room, she can tell by his light footsteps. She wants to move her head to see his expression, at the thought she is acutely aware of her spreading wetness, contemplating if the thrill of disobedience would be worth the risk.

From behind her, he grabs her hair in one fist, trails his other hand from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. His hands are warm. With an ironclad will she holds herself still. He sweeps his hands back up her back and she can't quite suppress the shudder. He lets go of her hair and puts her hands on her shoulders. She wants to sigh in relief but bites her lip. She swears, she can hear him smile.
He removes his hands and she is suddenly cold, a shiver runs through her body and her breath comes quicker.
She would like him to say something, to give a remark on her behvaiour, a word from him that acknowledges her submission but he is as silent as she is still though he hasn't moved far from her.
He takes two steps forward, the creak in the floor starts a chain reaction, a new ripple of excitement coursing through her body. His hands come around her and his fingers pinches her nipples. The shock of the jolt of sensation causes her to flinch and toss her head backwards. He increases the pull and she meets his intense glaze. He smiles and twists her nipples, hard and firmly with his strong hands. He holds her eyes and nods.
She wants to move with the pull of his fingers, she wants to yell but he only nodded, didn't yet release her with a word and she was told to be still.


Thursday, 16 August 2012

The Couple Next Door

There are times where I think, occasionally ttwd is some kind of illusion. 
That we're not really different than our neighbours our or colleagues and the dynamic of our relationship looks the same, because really there is nothing that is different than the norm. 
Maybe--goes my train of thought when I jump on this route--we just like kinky sex and he likes to give me orders and I like to take them. 
Nothing puts me so squarely on this train as the game known as "What do you want for dinner?" 
Its not a fun game. Its completely ridiculous. 
Me: "What do you feel like eating tonight?" 
Him: "I don't know. What do you want?" 
And it progresses from there. 
Even though, about ninety-five percent of the time, the general protocol is, he tells me what he wants and I make it. That whole game is especially idiotic because dinner time is actually pretty important to us--I have a whole post written on that ritual that I'll feel confident enough to put on here eventually-and it drives me crazy. It drives him crazy. But somehow, we end up in this spin. 
I like doing things for Horace. Things I do on my own and at his request.
How different is that from the wives/other-half's who set their husbands' clothes out in the morning and make them coffee? 

The other day, I got pulled into an unexpected meeting, for work. It was a bit stressful and left me feeling incredibly frustrated but I came home from that, gave in and took a bath. 
When I say "I am horrible at relaxing", I mean that both on a mental and physical level.
 My body works differently and its challenging to be anything other than tense. 
Baths are one of the only things that help with easing that tension. 
I had been having a bit of a protest, with our bathtub. One-sided and silly, I know but hey, its not M's bathtub. It's serviceable but, well hence the protest. 
I was just getting out of the tub, when the phone rang and it was my husband on the other end. 
Surprising me because I wasn't expecting him to be done with work for at least another hour and a half. 
He would like me to meet him down the street, there were a few things he wanted to pick up and could I please bring the package he needed to ship? 
Of course, I said. 
Even though I didn't want to do it. 
But he didn't know yet that I had the meeting or that I had just gotten out of a bath. He thought I was working from home that day. 
I didn't think it was worth it to explain all that on the phone, besides, I like doing things for him when he tells me to and its not like this was a difficult request. Even if it would dissipate all the benefits of the bath. 
Anyways, I set out on what really isn't a long walk from where we are to the 'urban area', maybe just over fifteen minutes. 
This will be fun, I think as I walk along, its nice he finished work early. 
Not seeing him anywhere, I went dropped off the package, ducked into the library, picked out a few books, and sat on a bench waiting for him. And waited.

Finally he arrives.
We kiss and do the whole, "How was your day" thing and then set out down the street. 
But my mood has changed form wilful compliance to annoyance because I was waiting for him, and again waiting seems to be the only thing I'm doing lately, and he notices. 
"Why are you grumpy?"
"I'm not grumpy." 
He put a hand on the back of my neck and told me to be be good. 
"There's children around" I said. 
He laughed. 
Its not like we were engaged in any inappropriate public displays of affection, I just wasn't quite ready to give in. 
He pulled me closer to him as we crossed the street, told me again to behave or else, which made me smile and simmered down my annoyance. 
We ended up lèche-vitrine (window shopping; one of my favourite french idioms, literally it means "licking the windows") and on the way home, I related the whole meeting-just-out-of-a-bath tale. 
"You could have told me, I wouldn't have asked you to meet me." 
Oh yeah, that statement didn't cause me to feel irritation. 
"It was no big deal", I said.
Half way home, we met a wonderful puppy-with their person-someone new to the area and chatted and played with the puppy. It was a nice evening and the puppy made me happier that I had ventured out and Horace told me once again that he appreciated it. 
We get home, put away our stuff and Horace said, "So what do you feel like for dinner?" 

Happy Sun Image, Courtesy of Many Faces Art

Wednesday, 15 August 2012

Guest: Author Amelia James, Mommy Porn

(Today, we have Author Amelia James dropping by and sharing her thoughts on the new "Mommy Porn" that is out with abundance. Amelia is celebrating a new release and I hope you'll enjoy what she has to say and take a peak at her new book, Her Twisted Pleasures)

The mommy porn label: insulting on more than one level

Romance novels have long been called 'porn for women' by their detractors, but recently a certain erotic novel that shall not be named by this trashy writer has been slapped with the label 'mommy porn'. Personally, I have no problem with porn so I had to wonder why those labels bugged me. I asked my Twitter followers and Facebook friends what they thought of it and I got the same answer from all of them. Calling a romance novel 'mommy porn' is insulting.

First: Romance novels are not porn. Really. Porn is entertainment. Romance is entertainment that's empowering to women, to men, to the readers, and to the characters. Not all romance novels include sex scenes. The genre ranges from sweet romance (no sex on the page) to erotica (sex is the primary aspect of the story).
Another friend made the point that even the erotic novel not mentioned above isn't porn at all, but "a watered-down version of true erotica, so the timid and conventional can read it and pretend they're doing something scandalous without accidentally offending themselves." Calling it porn implies that reading romance and erotica is wrong, and while my mother would vehemently support that idea, I do not.

Second: Whether we're mommies or not, it shouldn't be a shock to anyone that women like sex. Some of us even like kinky sex (gasp!).
But why the change from 'porn for women' to 'mommy porn'? Is a woman no longer sexual once she's given birth? (Or in my case, adopted a child.) That's news to me. Why is it surprising that moms like sex? How do they think we got to be moms?
Why are young, single women encouraged to enjoy their sexuality, but moms are expected to be entirely focused on their children? Motherhood is just one part of my life. It's a big one, but it isn't everything.

Finally: One of my Twitter followers said she hated the mommy porn label because "critics can't see the story past the steam." Romance novels tell compelling stories with strong characters and gripping conflicts, but people who label it mommy porn (including the media) can't get past the sex scenes to base their criticism on the story. Romance is the same as any other genre... with a little extra sex.
Romance novels aren't porn, but even if they were, I'd still read them. Why? Because women—no matter their age or social status—have the right to enjoy their sexuality. We shouldn't be criticized, mocked or insulted because we choose to read or write books about human relationships.

What do you think of the 'mommy porn' label? Is it a new kind of insult or is it the same old double standard?

Book Description, Her Twisted Pleasures

His hand came off my neck, and he wrapped his arms around me, crushing me against him. I grabbed his hair and forced his mouth to mine, feeding the darkness possessing us…. Submission, yes! Not giving up control but having it taken from me. This… this was why I needed Alex. Will was too nice; he would never abuse me like this. But Alex…mmm…Alex had no such qualms. “What have you done to me?”
Talia indulges her sexual pleasures, turning her life into a twisted mess. Sleeping with Alex is dangerous and reckless. She craves that excitement. Loving Will is comforting and safe. She needs that stability. Why can’t she get everything she wants from one man?
Will has everything under control. Watching his girlfriend flirt with his best friend fuels his lust for her. He loves Talia; he trusts Alex. It’s all good as long as he makes the rules.
Alex doesn’t give a damn about rules. He knows how to play with fire without getting burned. It’s just sex with Talia. No emotions means no attachments. That’s one rule he won’t break.
Sometimes dirty little secrets are more dirty than secret….
Purchase from: Amazon  Smashwords

About Amelia James 

Amelia James started reading steamy romance novels in junior high, but her mom took them away from her, so she started daydreaming instead. After she got married, she wrote some of her naughtier daydreams down and sent them to Playgirl magazine. Two of them got published.  She kept daydreaming and writing stories until her dirty stories turned into trashy books. 

She lives in Colorado, but she’ll always be a loyal Wisconsin Cheesehead. When she’s not lusting after her next bad boy hero, she looks for inspiration in sci-fi and action movies, football players, bloodsucking lawyers, muscle cars, and kick-butt chicks.

Visit Amelia's Blog:
Follow Amelia on Twitter:
Fan Amelia on Facebook:

Monday, 13 August 2012

Rainy Weekend

(If you are new here, welcome! Thanks for the visit. If you like prizes and erotica, there is a contest running until August 17th-on this blog-and can be found here)

We had a great weekend, and that might make this post a very boring read.
It rained for three straight days, which was wonderful. I love rainy weather and really enjoy a good thunderstorm. The rain, brought cooler temperatures and it felt like we were tucked away in a cottage.
Our phones were mostly silent and with the exception of running an errand or two, we stayed at home.

Relaxing, isn't something I'm good at but this weekend, I succeeded.
 Horace and I talked a lot, had lovely long conversations about everything and nothing.
 However,  we refrained from talking about what we have to do this coming week, or what has to be done. There was a sporting event on, which we checked in on occasionally.

We used this weekend to spend time with each other and kind of caught up. Not catching up in the sense of "I forgot to tell you this and that" but in the sense of intimacy, of bringing us back to a place of balance.
Both of us recharged and considering the work week I have coming up, it was a good thing.
 Though I did decline when I was asked if I could bake two hundred cupcakes--I'm trying to be content with being at the edge of chaos but not constantly in it.
Speaking of intimacy...the intimacy we enjoyed this weekend, was found in the little domestic, ordinary everyday things. It was present in our conversations and relaxing together.
There was no play and there was no sex.
Oh, there were playful spanks given and Horace played the game of "I could do this and that to you" but that was as far as it went.
And that's all right.
Back when we were going through the shocks of transitioning into a 24/7 thing, I was under the illusion that sex was all up to him.On the surface it really is something he has control over. The part I was missing and refrained from for a while, was telling him when I felt like it, or when I wanted it, or when I had the raging desire and wanted to shout, "Now please".
Got that one figured out rather quickly.
Now I just come out with it, weather its simply asking, stating my desire or begging, like pretty much everything else, communication helps.

The no-sex this weekend wasn't do to lack of communication but both of us were too engaged in other ways and we just never got around to it.
I think a little absence here and there, serves well to increase the desire. As I move through my day, the naughty, playful threats Horace made run through my mind and I feel that friendly anticipation. The only downside of that is it is kind of a distraction--which I know on some level is amusing to him.

I'm going to try and carry the feelings of this past weekend through this week. To stay in the moment, worry less about what has to be done and try to remember there is movement, things are happening.
 Besides, it would be pretty overwhelming if everything on our list happened right this second or if I had to get it all done today.

Image Source: Various places on Tumblr, like
 I think the original photographer is Tim Walker:

Friday, 10 August 2012

Friday Fragments: Flashes of Afterwards

(If you're new here, then welcome! And thanks for visiting If you like erotica and prizes, there is a contest running til August 17th and its open to all & can be found here

There is a weird kind of relief that comes with punishment, afterwards. A sense of purging and hitting a reset button. A blank slate. I always thought--especially from one who follows a faith that really has no confessional or means of absolution but does stress the concept of having consequences for your actions--the cleansing and element of absolution is so strong.
 Feelings that can linger for days.

Every once in a while, it still catches me by surprise. When the thought hits home of "What the heck? Oh right, I actually, willingly, with eyes wide open, consented to everything that goes along with this D/s relationship". It can be scary to submit, to give away control and not to be the one in the lead. 

There is comfort in knowing, no matter what may have happened, its forgiven. There is no "but you did this and its your fault" no blame that is being assigned and held over the head. I'm beginning to really think that old adage of maintaining a little forgetfulness in marriage is really true.  

The afterwards affirms the concept of submission, of dominance--it really was in action-- and more than that, the fact that it really is all right. We're doing just fine.

 The ease of stress, frustration and tension. Physically to feel infused with a gentle touch which caresses the whole body. Mentally, to feel safe and secure and that sense of knowing that is always there but can get lost in the chaotic. Its a sweet surrender that emerges, extending the touch into the friendship and love that is present. 

Image Source: 
i'm sorry, sir (from Tumblr)

Wednesday, 8 August 2012

Pause For Thought

If you're new here,welcome! And thanks for coming. If you like erotica and prizes, there is a contest running til August 17th and its open to all & can be found here

Recently I stumbled across an article that basically said a benefit of submission was, in giving control to another, the thinking process turned off for the one submitting. The article went on to say, how nice it was to turn all decisions over to another so the submissive didn't have to think.
I'm giving a very tongue-in-cheek summary here but really that was the gist of it. I have seen other articles and blog posts that amount to the same.
Personally, for me submission is not a way out. Its not an excuse not to make a decision ever again, because while in our male-lead relationship, Horace has the final say, my thoughts, feelings, ideas and input are considered. In the end, if Horace feels we are better off going in another direction, that's where we go and I follow and sometimes, have to play emotional catch-up (which I'm hoping will lesson with experience).
Right, I went off topic. Kind of.
If anything, I feel that choosing this type of relationship calls for more thought and certainly a greater deal of communication and exploration of mutual trust.
Thinking is good. Thoughts are powerful tools.
I couldn't imagine surrendering so completely that my thoughts aren't my own.
 Wouldn’t that be called enslavement?
However, there are moments when...

The thinking slows, as I wait for a command.
Thoughts come to a screeching halt, as those dexterous fingers explore, pushing for more.
My mind suddenly numbs when brought close to the edge.
Waves of emotion rise over the need for analysis, when those trigger words are said.
When I've been taken to that place of ecstasy, so overwhelming it edges out the pain.
Where the delight is so apparent across his face, that I'll do anything to see more of it, to bask in the reactions pleasing causes.
Unexpectedly, the feeling of vulnerability, laid open and bare appears.
Where waiting to see what will be done next, its impossible to think anything at all.

Moments of exchanges but totally different in surrendering the ability to think.
At least, I think so.

Art courtesy of Many Faces Art 
Want to use this piece? Click here

Tuesday, 7 August 2012

TMI Tuesday: What's the Question?

(If you're new here, then welcome! And thanks for coming. If you like erotica and prizes, there is a contest running til August 17th and its open to all & can be found here Not being in the blogging spirit, I decided it was time for another meme. This one comes from the fabulous TMI Tuesday Blog to join the fun and see other entries, go here this week they've given you the answers and you have to write the questions... Qu'est-ce que c'est? I've tried to make the questions cheeky...would it help to know this is part of Horace's edict which was laid down last week? Seven blog posts -published or not—in one week. Apparently he caught the whole not being motivated thing and didn't think I was blogging/writing enough, like creativity can be forced! ) 

Example of how it works this week:
Answer (given): 28 marbles.
Question (you the blogger create):How many did she fit in her vagina? 

1. Where should frozen objects not make a surprise appearance?

My butt.

Seriously, not that long ago, Horace had the brilliant idea of freezing a butt plug. Didn't expect that...and it was cold. One way to cool down on a summer's day, I suppose. Kind of brought on a lot more clenching of muscles, but oddly not the impulse to expel. He found it amusing when the thing started to “melt” .

2. What is one piece of wardrobe you've coveted but don't wear?

Stiletto black leather pumps. I would love a pair of stiletto black leather pumps, I'd love a pair of blue stiletto pumps, I'd love to be able to walk in stilettos but that's not happening this life time. I've tried. Repeatedly. The affect kind of makes me look like even more of an awkward spastic gazelle than usual.

3. What is your favourite time to have sex?

There is just something about half-asleep, morning or middle of the night sex. When neither of you are quite with it yet and often its messy due to coordination not quite kicking in (especially mine) and you know, one of the most surprising things about living with a male was they—at times, often--- wake up hard and stiff

4. And where, does it rain? 

The rain in Spain...By George I think she's got it!

Okay, I cheated here. The answer given was “By George I think he's got it!” But I have never heard anyone—not performing or working on My Fair Lady ( —to use this expression and nothing else came to mind.

5. What piece of wardrobe do you hate the most?

Socks. I hate wearing socks but there is such a short window of sandal-wearing weather here or wearing pretty flats without socks. And I hate folding socks, they tend to pile up in the baskets or on the sofa, on chairs and tables. I won the last sock fight, though...yes, we've really been known to throw clean socks at each other. This has been witnessed by friends.

6. Why aren't you comfortable calling all Dominants by honorifics?

Because, I don't know them from a hole in the wall. 

For me, that's really what it comes down to on that whole debate.
 If I don't know you, I'm not going to call you anything beyond what courtesy dictates.
 If I know you or if my husband knows you, different matter.

7. “Where did these new shirts come from?”

There are a few downsides to living in a space that isn't tiny  but small, with tiny closets and a poor layout. One is, I constantly run out of hiding places for surprises/gifts/stuff in general.
Like those shirts he stumbled upon while searching the far corners of the closet for a flashlight.
“Next year's birthday present. I hid them there so you wouldn't find them”

Happy Tuesday! Thanks for reading! 

Thursday, 2 August 2012

A Little Bit of Chains Never Hurt Anyone, D.X. Luc: Blog Tour

I am so thrilled to have Author D.X. Luc with a guest post here today on L'heure Bleue. 
D.X. Luc's work has a certain whimsy about it that I think is unique among erotica authors. 
As part of the Virtual Blog Tour for Touch of the Gods: The Wager, D.X. is giving away swag. Contest is open until August 17th. Follow the link to the Rafflecopter at the end of the post--failing that, just leave a comment to be entered with your email address and winners will be chosen by a random generator. Without further ramblings from me, here is D.X. Luc ...

It has seemed to me, lately that is, a lot of book where bondage is being used has come out of nowhere. I find it rather interesting because I've been reading such books long before they became so mainstream, so very popular. Then it occurred to me, a lot of the books I've written, including my recent release Touch of the Gods: The Wager has a touch of bondage in it. I don't think I am capable of writing anything where I didn't add my love for what the world considers the taboo and still call it a book!

Some have asked me why I feel the need to have my hero tie up the heroine or put her in some kind of kinky contraption and my answer is always the same. Because I can. What is wrong with a little slap and tickle? It certainly doesn't mean I'm messed up in the head (though if you count the fact that I speak of my muse as though it's a real person then maybe) and I'm definitely not trying to push the limits as to what society deems acceptable. I'm writing from the heart and passions that fuel my mind and usually does the same for my readers.

Think about it? A hunky, sensual man who obviously loves you so much that you can trust him when he pushes your thighs back and binds them so that you can't close your legs. How is that NOT sexy as all hell? Plus, Hephaestus knows how the make sure his tinker toys please a woman. I know Vanessa wasn't complaining!

And it doesn't always have to be in the bed where a man dominates a woman until she's squealing with submissive delight. One night I was thinking of how great it would be for there to be a very long and drawn out kiss. One where my hero takes over the whole moment without so much as a moment to let the heroine think straight! Below is a sneak peek.

Sexy Kiss

The stinging tears fell from my eyes as I cupped his face in my hands and pulled him close. I kissed him with all the love I had been holding inside.
At first, he kept his body pulled back, as though he feared touching me would burn him, but eventually passion won over and he closed the distance between us. His strong hands grabbing my arms to keep me flushed against his hard, large body.
In my mind, I felt him like a flame, his voice filling every corner of my subconscious as he spoke. Vanessa, is this your answer? I feel your desire and your need for me. Please don't let this be a game, my heart couldn't take it.
Our lips were still locked and the desperation I felt in his question was so intense, that the only way to reply was through deepening my kiss. It was thrilling, how his body trembled, and as I began relaxing into his clutch, our gentle exploration turned into a dominant assault. He was no longer gentle and I loved it, while knowing that even if we didn't work out, I'd never forget the way he made me feel.
With ease, he lifted me higher, his large hands gripping my thighs as they wrapped around his waist. Clinging to his neck, I submitted to him, opening my mouth wider and moaned as his sinfully sweet tongue, delved into the innermost caverns of my mouth. The frenzy in which he kissed me, consumed me and greedily, he feasted upon our passion, filling himself on my very being.
My head started to spin as I became deprived of oxygen, but before I could pull back for air, I felt a warm tingle seconds before a rush of air was forced into my lungs. It shocked me to say the least, but as the wind moved back and forth in and out of my lungs, I realized Hephaestus had begun breathing for me.
Lost in his dominant power, it wasn't until the tip of his tongue ran against the upper bridge of my mouth that I felt my orgasm building, desire vibrating along my spine. Repeatedly flicking along the bumpy ridges, I felt his cock grow larger, harder through his pants, my senses reeling, and our mouths remained locked as my moans grew in volume.
I tried grinding against him to speed up my release, but Hephaestus held me as still as the cold statue behind me. He pressed in more, alternating from licking along every nook and cranny in my mouth, to sucking on my lips until they stung. Before long, my heart rate picked up, my body was covered in perspiration and it seemed that as he intensified his kiss, my entire body was set ablaze. He sighed into my mouth his breath tickling erogenous zones that I didn't know existed until now, increasing the juice flowing from my pussy, which burned hotter than lava.
Dear heaven! When I read that he was the God of Volcanoes, they really weren't kidding. The fire of release bubbled just beneath the surface, so intense that I dug my nails into the soft skin of his neck. He growled, the resonance sending shock waves from his body into mine. Just as he asked me before in the dreams we shared, I gave him my offering.
Crying out into his mouth I was thankful he held me, because if he hadn't, I would have collapsed into a pile of jelly and skin. It didn't stop my body from quivering like crazy in his embrace, but he didn't let up, he just continued to kiss, lick, and suck every drop of my orgasm out of me. I felt the heat of my release spread across my entire body, and knew that my skin was probably flushed a nice deep shade of pink.
Never in my life, had I been kissed until I came. I don't think anyone would even believe me if I told them and yet, here I was trying to regain my composure after being given a mind altering kiss-gasm!
Finally, Hephaestus drained the last tremor from my body, and seemed to reluctantly pull back from my lips.
Touch of the Gods: The Wager is available on Amazon 
To learn more about Author D.X. Luc visit her blog
D.X. Luc is also on Twitter

To enter the contest through Rafflecopter , follow the link below:
a Rafflecopter giveaway


There have been a lot of changes around here lately and while normally I like changes, this wave has been a little stressful and I haven't dealt with it well.
That wife thing has been particularly hard in the last few weeks—never mind the submissive side of things because that's been sketchy at best.

Horace and I are kind of in different places, right now. My husband is high in the clouds, happy.
 Things between us are good. Its my side of things that haven't kicked in yet, that have been kind of motionless and frustrating—my work and play haven't been in balance and I know, if I could just find that way to get that side of things in order, it would help us on the whole, all of that is kind of making it hard to join him in the happy sphere. 

Normally, I like solitude but being stuck in the hurry up and wait game and work that is tedious and hard work that doesn't seem to be paying off and working from home these last few weeks, I wonder if I actually need more interaction with people, with the outside world or if the solitude has just gotten to me.

All of that, of course could be explanations and reasons but I think there is little excuse for less than stellar behaviour.
Right now, Horace and I don't communicate much during the day, circumstances make it hard to and while I could email and text him, there isn't any point because by the time he gets a chance to read those, he'd be on his home, anyways.
He found a few moments to call, this past week.
I should have acted like I was happy to hear from him.
I should have said something to the effect of “I miss you.”
Instead, I went into a rant about how frustrated I am and how horrible that day was.
And I hung him on him.

Obviously, Horace wasn't impressed. I felt guilty about my actions, my words throughout the rest of the day—but interestingly it did cause me to put my attention on him---and out of sorts.
 When he got home, the first words on my lips should have been, “I'm sorry.”

Well before I asked how he was and how his day went, long before Horace brought out the paddle and made it crystal clear how unacceptable that behaviour was and the total result being, he set out how things were going to be for the next week, effectively tightening the reins.

I'm kind of buckling under that right now but at the same time, its eased some of the stress. I think that's one of the areas where we both flounder a little with the D/s side of things, recognizing when a more forceful, structured approach would be helpful before it gets to that boiling over point.
Learning, we're learning.

To end the week on a happy note, tomorrow Author D. X. Luc pops on over as part of her Virtual Book Tour for her new release, Touch of the Gods: The Wager. Hope you'll come and visit!

Image Credit: Many Faces Art