“One…”
K.K would be strong. She could take it.
“Two…”
Gin was right there with her, going through the same thing. She wasn’t alone and that comforted her more than anything else.
“Three!”
A pause labored in the room as a swoosh of air went up her back then the feeling reversed. Two almost simultaneous cracks echoed through the room like fireworks, making her jump. Just as quickly she felt the harsh bite of the whip’s tail against her back like a cobra bite. The pain spread out like venom, at first it was numb giving a second of hope before the sharp burn set in. With every second it deepened and spread. It took K.K a moment to realize the sharp scream was her own, and though she did feel a bit embarrassed about it she was mostly consumed by the pain. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“How’d it feel?”
“Fuckin’ hurt, sir!”K.K loudly blurted out.
Most of the room lapsed into laughter at how blunt it was, but K.K was only being honest. At least she remembered to say “sir”.
“Ha, such a naughty mouth. Warrants more punishment doesn’t it Master Jon?”
“Most definitely”
Tag: indiewriters
Warm Up Time! “Daily Prompt: Second Thoughts”
Prompt: via Daily Prompt: Second Thoughts
With two small boxes in her hand and a man napping on the sofa in front of her Lita began to wonder if she made a mistake. Jon had always been messy…but she had asked him to go on an unpack the boxes in their new living room. She sat the last two boxes from her old tiny apartment down by their new big blue sofa and made her way across the massive room to the kitchen. Her kitchen. She loved this house with all her spirit, and that is why Jon paid just under full market price for it once they decided to live together. As she looked from the gleaming white cabinets to the grey eco-friendly counter top she knew Jon loved her. It wasn’t just the sex. No. Their…unique relationship had never been just that even as she wore that silver choker around her neck, that silver symbol of her choice to be with him. But living together?
Naughty words and naughtier deeds were a hell of a lot easier than living together, or having the burden of being the one who suggested living in the suburbs right outside the city far from his glittering penthouse in the sky. Yeah, the penthouse she had decorated for him as a favor. Maybe there was a reason for that. He didn’t get everything this house symbolized to a girl who lost her childhood home to pettiness and deceit. He didn’t get that she had been raised to put things just so. He didn’t get how not unpacking even onw of those boxes made her let out a heavy worried sigh. Her boss had been riding her ass all day and that was before she went to her holiday shift at Mint! Eight hours of work followed by four hours of more work, followed by an annoying as hell drive home did not make for a happy Lita. So for him to not do this simple little thing? “It would have been fucking nice…but guess not”. She went to their wine glass cabinet, which she put in order, and grabbed one of their larger glasses. Maybe this had been one big mistake. Maybe Jon just wasn’t living together material…maybe she was just freaking out. She glanced towards the sofa, but noticed how orderly their entertainment console looked. The xbox and wii sat neatly beside each other beneath their massive TV. She could tell the cabinets and cubbies had been filled with controllers, video game cases, DVDS, and a few of his favorite neck knacks(some of which were hers like the figure of the Pink Mighty Morphin Power Ranger doing a high kick, and the hand painted white and gold rabbit she brought back from France. The books, the vases, the paintings, and everything else in the living room remained boxed. But he obviously unpacked their XBOX and router just fine though. Go figure.
“Ugh”
“Go to the bedroom…” Jon’s sleepy voice echoed from the living room.
“Hey, babe…you could have done one other box besides that one-”
“Go to the bedroom” Jon said with a yawn. He popped up from behind the sofa back and stretched.
“I’m really not in the mood for anything now. I just…had a long day.”
Jon’s mouth contorted into a sympathetic frown that deepened as he looked her over. She must have looked more tired than she thought. Perfect. She thought she’d looked cute today. She even matched the red of her blouse to the red that tinted the ends of the locs and wore her red cats eye glasses to match.
“I’m sorry, hun, but go to the bedroom.”
Lita set the glass down on the counter, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. There wasn’t an ounce of fight left in her, so she just shrugged. Chances were she’d get into it once they got started and quite frankly by the look on his face he’d be more than willing to give her a full body massage. The thought made a small smile pierce her annoyance. How could she stay 70% irritated when post-massage sex was one of the best kinds of sex. Still earlier she’d thought about maybe them trying a 24/7 d/s relationship, but if her irritation was any indication that’d never work out. She walked down the hallway to the stairs and each step up reminded her how tired she felt. By the time she reached the second floor she could have asked Jon to come carry her. “Nah…fuck the massage.”
With another little sigh she walked down the hallway, hearing the low bass of one of her favorite songs coming from the bedroom. Lita glanced towards the stairs, hearing Jon’s footsteps approach.
“I’m right behind you!” he said.
“Alright.” Lita kept walking, noting how dim the light coming through the bedroom door was. When she came to it she pushed it open and a gasp left her lips. He may not have gotten to their living room…but he certainly got to work upstairs. The whole room was in perfect order: Their bed was perfectly made and sprinkled with roses; at the front of the bed was their “toy” trunk with several new toys laid on top; on a nightstand beside a picture from their first date was a tray holding two glasses and an ice bucket with a wine bottle sticking from the top; beneath their television their stereo played music softly beside a vase filled with roses. She stepped inside as the shock rolled over her only to see their bathroom was also perfectly arranged, and inside rose petals lead from the door to the large soaker tub.
He did all this. He took the time out of his day to not only get this all organized, but to dress it up so…romantically. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt tears begin to rise to her eyes. She’d dated but no one had ever done this. No one had ever put something like this together so perfectly just when she needed it most. After being dressed down at work, dealing with angry customers, and petty co-works…and thinking he just blew off what she asked him to do…she came home to this.
Suddenly his arms surrounded her and she felt his lips kiss her neck.
“I thought this was more important. Hope you don’t mind”And against her iron will those tears began to fall, and Jon pulled away and moved in front of her. Deep concern was written in his dark eyes and her wiped the tears from her face. “Please tell me these are happy tears?”
And all Lita could do was laugh and nod her head. Second thoughts. Life had a lot of them, but right then as she embraced him this house, this man, and this life weren’t one.
Lust, Need, and Sensual Desire:Will You Set My Pants On Fire?
Lust. We all like to think we know what it is, but do we really? Do our textbook definitions encompass the depth and variety of what lust truly can be? I don’t think it does that often, and when we write or talk about lust we have to acknowledge it isn’t as simple as alarms going off in your pant regions. So let’s get down and dirty into what lust is…and yeah we’re also going to talk about pants region. This is only a little taste of this issue, but there is far more to be written about this. I’d love to know you’re opinion!
- Lust is more than the sum of how we usually define it…which is a strong desire for sex. You can lust for anything if the passion consumes you. You can lust for cuddling, for understanding, for someone to feel lust for you, and for anything else you are capable of yearning for.. The key to lust, to true lust, is an itching need that almost creeps up your spine like addiction.
Oh we most often relate it to sex, but real lust goes so much farther. That is what makes it so entrancing to me is because it is something that consumes and comes over you. Lust is a wide sea of feeling and when it comes to writing sexuality it is tied to two things…need and sensual desire. Sure you can have shallow lust. Most people see a beautiful person they’re attracted to and experience the fun shallow burst of “I want you now.” However in portraying a deeper desire you have to unpack what those feelings are. Anyone can want anyone, but there are times you need to have someone want someone, to have them be consumed by an almost compulsive need and overwhelming sensual need. - I’m very…very ultra familiar with lust and need. It often trips people out when I say sex is wonderfully common, but sensuality is the goal for me. It doesn’t happen every time but damn it if isn’t fun. Sensuality is about a few things and one is namely(but not always)…
. The thing that a lot of writers struggle with is conveying the slow dance of characters. Sex begins with a look. It begins with the acknowledgement all parties are geared and ready for the good times to roll. Some of the most sensual experiences a person can have occur with the absence of sex. A slow caress of the hand, a tender kiss, or that single exchange of knowing smiles all contribute to the creation of a sensual energy between people. It can build up creating the tension readers want to feel. It can be intensely sexual and mind numbingly powerful because much like sexual pleasure it simply builds and builds so the sexual act itself becomes release. I’m not only talking about in erotica, but in any genre when you create then mount that tension you instill that in your readers. So they get satisfaction from the sexual culmination of it. This may not be a sexual satisfaction. Often it is a catharsis of knowing these characters you’ve invested in finally acted on something they wanted to do, which another wonderful form of satisfaction. But a word of warning: Sometimes it goes on too long and writers mistake dragging out a romance for tension. My partner and I have thoroughly discussed the fact that CW’s The Flash spent far too long trying to drag out the titular hero’s relationship with Iris West. It felt slow, the obstacles contrived and uninteresting. Ultimately its most redeeming quality is that it reminded me why some characters and people are better starting off as dates/lovers than as “friends with sexual tension”. None of it rang true and ultimately both my partner and I were rolling our eyes by the second season. When sexual or romantic tension drags out too long without tangible and convincing justifications or insight into why the characters decide to drag things out it can drive you mad. If you write this then your characters feel lazily written and your plot hackneyed. I’m proud that I just used that word, and no one can take that away from me. - Need is a key component of lust, but we often talk about it in cliches. A lot of my life has been spent figuring out what it is to “need” someone or something. Once upon a time I thought I needed many things, but now I know I need only that which makes me content. But the need we often use in writing isn’t about existential happiness. No it is about an aching feeling of not just want, but the knowledge you cannot and should not continue without that thing or person. Full disclosure, the notion of “need” is something I’ve always romanticized until recently.In theory it is so romantic, but to me it also signals an immature love. I spent 6 pining for a man I thought I needed and it took him destroying my dreams to make me see that love shouldn’t make you feel that way. You may call me a cynic, but I call it obsession. I won’t claim we didn’t need each other when we were together. In fact I know we needed each other more than anything that we had at the time, but you should be able to stand on your own even if it hurts. If you can’t please think about what you’re feeling because you should never want to stop living because of anyone leaving like that. That all being said need is absolutely beautiful in writing.
The thing about writing a character having a profound need is it can’t just be consuming…you have to make it felt. The sensation of need is one that isn’t just a character wanting strongly. But either: a character experiencing a powerful “realization”, through conscious thought, feeling, or both; a character , usually unconsciously, acting on impulses and a deep desire for someone or something whether recognized or not. Weaving a story where a character isn’t, only or even necessarily denying their need, but a character whose compulsive need/desire for is building is essentially writing about obsession. As I related in my story to have a need is to be obsessed, and that doesn’t last forever. Time doesn’t matter, but there it is most power when the obsessive need builds or when it is felt in a moment. Truthfully I believe need is often momentary, and by that I mean the need comes when you feel their is a risk. It hits you when you ,consciously or unconsciously, feel as though you need to act or cannot act but feel as though if you don’t something will slip away. There’s this weird tie between helplessness and need…and oddly hoarding, which is a common obsession. This is awesome because it gives you a thousand different ways to convey this situation because every single person has a slightly different reaction to need. Some people view it as an invasion by emotion, while others interpret it as this wonderful emotion(sweeping like a good pop song). You can go anywhere
Of course this post barely scratched the surface of it all, but I wanted to begin unpacking a bit of this awesome and complex thing we call lust! What do you think? Do you agree? Do you disagree? Tell me what’s up!
Excerpt from White Hot Room Draft
“‘This wasn’t planned’. That wasn’t true. It was planned but Lita never imagined it could go this far.”
Offered a chance to explore her deepest and darkest fantasies with her most trusted friend, the confident and handsome if somewhat unpredictable Jon, Lita finds herself submitting to things she could never imagine. However a world of self-consciousness has held her back for so long that going through with it may be harder than she ever imagined. This only gets harder when she realizes Jon’s love is as intense as his dominant side. Love and lust can be frightening things, but anyone worth their salt knows one is far easier than the other. Will she succumb to her fears of the unknown, or surrender to the wiles of love, passion, and the depths of submission?
A Lita Loves Tale. In fact this is the first of this realistic and sensual series!
The Lita Loves Tales are an erotic fiction series for a mature audience. White Hot Room features rough intimate scenes of bondage, spanking, flogging, curvaceous women, male domination and female submission. The Lita Loves Tales proudly proclaims to be a series with interracial romance and intercourse without any odd racializing found in other stories. Sensual, hot, and tinged with Miss Ruthers desire to capture the complexities of sex and intimacy White Hot Room promises to bring something new to e-readers everywhere.
White Hot Room
One thing was certain about Lita and that was nothing was 100% certain with her. Her father used to tell people that the “2.99% of uncertainty will get you if you aren’t careful”. Though she liked her comfortable life and usual routine, something in her always managed to surprise people…even herself. Still every single inch of her was no better than a pile of nerves in that hallway despite the fact that deep down she yearned for Jon to take her to another level; another level that lined up with odd thoughts that always lurked in her dirty mind and made her feel not just good, but like living fire and also the calmest ocean. Tonight came as one of those little astonishing circumstances, one of those little moments that fell under the 2.99%. Lita hoped things would go smoothly, but they hadn’t even started and fear glued her in place. So much remained unknown and could only be known by exploration. That gave way to anticipation which meant nerves and hesitation. With every ounce of trepidation that resounded inside her as she looked at Jon there was this grand sort of rush building in her stomach. Nerves. Part of her liked the nerves even as another part of her felt like fleeing. This moment would never come around again. These nerves. These sensations. These thoughts. All of it made for a powerful part of the game they were going to play, and she had to play it. She said she would and she knew if she didn’t she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
Something told her she had to savor everything rolling around inside her, and that meant, in their mutual silence, reminding herself that sex didn’t get them there.
This game always seemed to be about sex, but it was so much more intimate if it was done right. He told her that “I don’t just play with anyone…I can, but it’s not the same, but I’d like to try with you,” but he didn’t seem to believe she’d say yes that night. There in the hall the joyous look in his eyes remained tempered by the sort of nervousness she’d only seen him have when their friends kept hinting at getting him an ‘epic’ birthday present despite their funds. He didn’t want to get his hopes up and yet…hope was there lurking around in his eyes. Still he remained composed, watching her, meeting her gaze with his own.
“I worried you would choose…not this.” He motioned to himself and then from his back pocket pulled something out. A split second later Jon held up a dangling patent red collar. The glimmer of light reflecting off the shinnying faux leather made her heart skip. “Or this.”
The power of walking for writing
I am a lazy woman. What makes that harder is I’m an introvert with occasional agoraphobia, a deep fear of the insectoid world, and depression. So you can guess I don’t always do a great job of getting out much…but I do my best to make the effort to at least go on a ten minute walk once a week. Besides my trying to be healthier I do this because it “clears my head”. A rush of cool air, being out in an open place full of a thousand little changes, and switching my mindset from inside to outside is like a small system reset. When I do a reset like that I come out able to sit down and feel in a better position to write with a bit more inspiration than before.
So many of us writers are home bodies, but those of us who are able can learn a lot from going out into the world and finding means to alter our thinking, find inspiration, and generally refresh ourselves. Sometimes getting away from writing is the best thing for writing.
What are your techniques for resetting your mental modem? How do you give yourself a new perspective and approach?
Normandy. for #PoetsforPeace and my grandfathers
A healthy shore.
A thousand feet.
An ocean wide and open,
With stones — who knows what they’ve seen?
And a universe of tokens.
Fear and fright before a tedious night.
Blood and Bomb and harsh cold memories,
That’ve been turned into “cowardice”,
A sad lonesome lie that turned some away from
Outwardness.
Broken glass from bottles, from glasses, from binoculars,
Forced apart and thrown into the deeps.
Now it comes ashore again,
Once jagged now?
Smooth.
Now precious and fragile thing.
A some quiet peace,
Created from tossed around dreams,
And memories,
Brushed and crashed against a thousand stones,
Bumped and bruised against a thousand odd things,
Tapping machines so fierce even their rust force,
Fright to explode from itself.
Now that precious thing is,
Smooth.
Is peace.
It is in our pockets.
We caress it every now and again.
We let it remind us of its uniqueness,
Of its calm.
And yet how quick we pull our hands away,
How quickly we fail that man made thing,
Is it that we mistake it for stone?
Is it that we forget it is glass?
How quickly we forget how it was made!
How precious that thing is.
How smooth.
*
The most painful and horrendous things can give away to softer things. But can we learn to listen, to help, to understand, and maybe round out those rough edges before they’re blown apart and we’re all thrown asunder into the depths of hatred? I hope so.
I know so
#poetsforpeace
WHAT are You writing about?
I am really interested to hear what people are writing about these days?
What type of writing? What genre? What themes? What message? What stories?
Let’s get together and #support each other by sharing what our current projects are?
I’m waiting excitedly!
Gimme that Old Time Lovin’
Everything is relative. When we look back at “romance” we look back with rose tinted glasses. No mention of women as property, no mention of all the people who never had a chance to find love, but only to find like, no chance to figure out their sexual interests or if they matched. For many black people in America, until recent history showing public affection was seen as inappropriate, our love and affection constantly equaled sex. Recently I spoke to a gay male friend of mine and we agreed that so many people see him kiss his boyfriend or hold his hand and immediately think of intercourse. Years ago the same acts were associated with people who looked like me because we were inherently sexual and sexualized in the common narrative. Kissing was indecent and making yourself a target. Let’s not forget the many who had no choice in who they loved or whether they could leave or go. Many things have changed and to say the old way or the new way was better across the board is a bit myopic. Today people have a lot of choice and perhaps we abuse or misuse it to a certain degree, depending how you measure. Maybe we focus too much on “happiness” and not on “contentment” like eastern cultures and how every culture used to.
Sex has become a gimmick to things. Commercials, movies, and yes Undressed or Sex Sent Me to the E.R on TLC all treat sex like some novelty and not a point of fabulous exploration and raw human experience, if not connection. Meanwhile romance is something defined by whoever feels they have the best definition at a given time. For generations now people have been bemoaning the death of romance as technology, free love, and sexual freedom have become more normalized in western society. It can’t be denied that some things have been sacrificed in the face of technological ease and connection. I can’t be denied that plenty avoid romance by swiping to sex and seducing…even lying for it in ways that’d be unimaginable decades ago. Still we cannot say what has changed the fundamental concept of romance except people’s attitudes:
Women have options now that women 40, 50, 60 years ago did not.
More people travel constantly and often, moving from place to place, making it harder to find connections at all let alone love.
Because of people exploring more and experiencing more they require more attention to those who can understand or be willing to understand that fact.
Divorce isn’t as frowned upon, and perhaps this is not so beneficial in some ways. Why? So many people pine for the ideal romance, partner, and relationship without realizing in the old days you had to make do. So many ignore or destroy good things in search of a perfection that will never and can never exist. We say “Don’t ever settle”, but then never want to admit that if you want certain things you have to settle. You have to accept another human being for all their good points and bad whether you love them or hate those points if you want to be with them. You have every single right to say “No”, but we have this real problem now of saying “Never settle” and in the same breath saying “You you need to have a “real” reason to reject someone”. If you can’t deal with someone’s issues or if you don’t want what they do a lot of times you become the bad guy even as you’re told to not settle for what you can’t stand. What we need is contentment in our romance. Happiness is fleeting. Happiness is a moment of time, but contentment occurs even in unrest, it is the willingness to say “I am fine with this relationship and situation, and enjoy the continuance of it” instead of “I want to just constantly stay happy and the moment I’m not everything is wrong”. Very technical I know, but I’m being technical so you can see the difference.
Years ago if you got divorced some people wouldn’t give you the time of day….and at the same time plenty of people engage in aimless sex and wake up wondering why they feel used. How we talk about sex and romance is so limited, so driven by structures and intentions we can’t even see because they’re “normal” to each generation. Romance evolves and changes, and we need to evolve and change with it. Does that mean romance is dead? Did it in the 1960s? 1920? 1990s? I think not…but it does change in ways big and small…but everyone’s relationship and romantic views differ.
I kissed on the first date. I had my first kiss when I almost had my first…everything else. I am a libidinous woman, but I love holding hands on long walks. My lover brings me flowers sometimes. Other times he greets me with a hug so fierce my back pops and all I can do is laugh. We met on OKCupid which still shocks people and even disgusts some. The internet isn’t real to them. It is this technological thing separate from life when it is really interwoven in a lot that we do. I’ve met some of my most important connections that way. Some I’ve known almost a decade if not more, and that is more than most “friends” I’ve spent time with in the same room. My view of technology is human centered. It isn’t simply a tool, but a process dependent on quality human interaction, use, connection. The internet would be nothing if we couldn’t send pictures or messages about our kids, pets, and family that could make people feel something! Anything. I spent way too much time online as a teenager…but I had more friends over private messanger and on video game servers than in real life. I had more romantic overtures there by shy peopl who liked my spark and my ability to listen than in the small pool of bullies, anti-black people(which includes other black people btw), and small mindednes I was surrounded with in my school and county. Was that good? For personal growth yes, and I know I am not some unique case. People find ways to connect however they can.
As humanity has grown and changed we have adapted new ways of connecting. Perhaps we’ve lost others that were uniquely valuable. We should continue to praise and teach that value. A love letter can mean more than one ever realizes. I gave my lover a homemade birthday card a few months after we started dating and he told me he takes it out every now and again when he feels alone or depressed. We can also text, and do, every morning and night when we’re too tired to talk with words. Monday we spent the evening making a delicious fondue with a recipe we found highly rated online, and it came out great because people shared their tips and tricks. We had an awesome date because of that.. Technology, sex, romance, and humanity…we’re still figuring those things out. Heck we’re just now acknowledging all the people in the world who don’t have sexual urges, who don’t see someone and go “I wish I could kiss them”. We figure these things out as we go. It is the only thing we can do, but to bemoan the death of romance is to ignore all the new ways it manifests for different people and all the ways people still hold tight to old ways.
Romance is in the hands of those who want it.
It is not a series of specific acts or actions.
It is a series of acts or actions specific in the intent and meaning of those engaged in them.
Playing video games with a lover seems horrid to some and like paradise to others.
Going out to some stuffy restaurant is uncomfortable to some and a dream to others.
Walking along the lake seems like pointlessness to others and heaven to some.
We cannot guess the realms of love, or limit them for others with measures that cannot possibly capture the ranges of expression.
Inspired by this nice little post Is Romance Dead? Though I obviously disagree with some points I think it is an important viewpoint and read and consider.
Also if you’re interested in random comics stuff and why I posted so many old Romance Comics…I’m an avid collector.
I highly recommend checking out Sequential Crush an online archive and analysis of girls romance comics that explores any and all facts and details of these protoypical romance stories in away that is entertaining, personal, and quite frankly fascinating. I’ve been a long time fan of the site and think they do a lot for preserving an often over looked part of the romance genre. The runner of the site is the granddaughter of Green Lantern creator Martin Nodell, and she does more than live up to the family legacy by offering unique takes that really have helped me understand romance better from a perspective I didn’t know about until reading more.
If you’re interested in comics in general check out this fascinating read too:
I Used To Sell You Comics: Kids Love Comics (And how that makes comics better for everybody)
Bound By Rosie 