#MyWritingProcess Blog Tour

My Writing Process & What I’m Working On Now

The sweet and dirty Christie St Claire was kind enough to nominate me for this blog tour.

Christie St ClaireChristie St Claire is the inside voice of Fenton University delivering all the dirty little secrets of the Fenton University Cheerleading Squad. She is exposing the truth about the sex lives of the Fenton University Cheerleaders. It’s a dirty job and she loves it.
She is currently exposing Shelley’s hot tub adventures with the Harrisons.
You can catch up with Christie and the Fenton University Cheerleading Squad:
The Delinquent Cheerleader Blog: http://delinquentcheerleaders.blogspot.co.uk


So, here goes!

1. What am I working on?

At the moment, I have a couple of things bouncing around inside my head, trying to find their way out. One is a new story, which I think will be told over a three or four episode arc. The first part is tentatively called “Untouched.” It’s about Allison – a small-town girl who moves to the city in search of a more exciting life. She ends up in the kind of dead-end existence that so many people fall into – a job she hates but can’t afford to quit; just going through the daily grind to survive, but without any of the joy and excitement she came to find.

Her best friend’s bachelorette party accidentally introduces Allison to the world of BDSM; a world whose existence she had never suspected, and to which she finds herself powerfully drawn. One thing leads to another, and Allison begins an online relationship with an enigmatic stranger who invites her to explore her newfound desires. Allison sets a condition before agreeing to participate; no one is allowed to touch her. She thinks, by setting this condition, that she is keeping herself safe. Not safe from the online stranger she has decided to trust, but maybe safe from herself; safe from allowing herself to go too far. But, she completely fails to realize just how much beyond her comfort zone she can be guided, and still stay within the letter of that constraint.

I wanted to write a story in which I, as the author, had to stay within my own restrictions. Could I write a seriously erotic story, full of my favorite powerfully-charged sex, where no one even touches the heroine? It was an idea that tickled me, and I think my readers will really enjoy it once it’s published. I find the main scene as sexy as hell, and I hope others will, too.

While I’ve been trying to focus on this Jennie, the heroine of my Pessumae Christi series about a very kinky order of nuns and the priests and others who love them, is simply refusing to leave me alone. She keeps filling my head with scenes and ideas from the next stage of her journey, and I don’t think she’s going to quit until I tell her story. So, I expect there to be another part of that series, before too long. I have no idea what the title will be, though.

Aside from that, I’ve got some ideas for an urban fantasy – possibly erotic, but maybe not.

As you can see, it’s pretty crowded inside my head. I just need to get all this stuff out of there, and onto the page!

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?

To be honest, I don’t read very much erotica. So, I couldn’t tell you for certain that my work does differ from others in the same genre. But, I can tell you what I try to bring to my stories.

There are really two things that I focus on in my writing. The first is to fully involve the reader in the action, as much as I possibly can. In the end, it’s just words on a page. But writing has so much power to evoke feelings and sensations. I was watching a TED presentation the other day, and they were talking about scanning people’s brains while they experienced something, and again while they remembered it. Apparently, there isn’t much difference, in terms of what goes on in our brains. Remembering and imagining are very similar, too. So that means if I can really paint a picture with words for my reader – if I can involve all of her senses and really put her right into the story – then I can give her an experience which is almost real. To me, that’s extremely powerful.

The other thing is also about making the story real. One of the reasons I haven’t read much erotica is because a lot of it leaves me unsatisfied. Other writers in this blog tour have made a distinction between porn and erotica, and I think there is some truth in that.

Now, I have nothing at all against porn, but if a story is too porny then I tend to find it unsatisfying. Detailed, kinky sex is not enough, all by itself. If characters in a story meet, and then in the next moment they are ripping each other’s clothes off for no good reason, then I simply can’t invest myself in them. If I don’t care why they are having sex, then it’s impossible for me to care that they are having it.

The most important sex organ we have is our brains, and the reasons why my characters engage in kinky sex are just as important to me, if not more so, than the ins and outs (pun intended) of what it is they’re doing together. So, like I said, I can’t really tell you that this is something that makes my writing different from other work in the same genre, but I definitely try to make my stories believable. Okay, they are sexual fantasies, and most people don’t behave like this in real life (although, you’d be surprised – just because most people don’t, that doesn’t mean nobody does). But, I put a lot of effort into creating scenarios where it becomes plausible that my characters would do the things they do. Whether or not I succeed in that is up to my readers to decide, but that’s certainly what I’m trying to achieve.

3. Why do I write what I do?

Because it’s so much fun!

Sex has always been endlessly fascinating to me, ever since I learned that it existed. When I found out that vanilla was not the only flavor, it just blew my mind.

Sex is such a primal driving force behind so much of what we do and the reasons why we do it. There is so much mixed up in it; desire, intimacy, pleasure, joy, aggression, power, territoriality, jealousy, lust, revenge and even anger. When I decided I wanted to write, how could I not write about sex? BDSM takes that and turns it up to eleven.

I’ve always been interested in people and cultures who break the rules. I’m not talking about the sensible rules – the law, not harming other people, that kind of thing – I mean the rules that seem to be there for no good reason. How am I allowed to look? What am I allowed to wear? Who am I allowed to have sex with? How am I allowed to have sex? Society has a whole bunch of rules about that, even when it’s nobody else’s damn business. I think that’s really interesting, and so are the people and sub-cultures who look at those rules and go, “You know what? I don’t think those apply to me.”

Another thing is the idea that someone can make herself powerful by submitting to someone else’s will. It took me a long time to get my head around that, and I think there are lots of people who still don’t understand it. I’m talking about people outside of the BDSM community, of course. You look at a girl who is tied to a cross being whipped, and it’s hard to imagine how that could be empowering her. And yet, when you really understand the inner strength and self-confidence required to put yourself in someone else’s hands that way, it’s amazing. So that is a theme which comes up in my stories over and over again.

Finally, writing is a great way for me to sublimate my serious blindfold fetish!

4. How does my writing process work?

Sometimes, I’m not sure it does.

I’m a really slow writer, as my long-suffering readers will attest. The self-discipline of producing a certain number of words per day really doesn’t come easily to me, at all.

In terms of how I go from nothing to a story, it usually starts from a single idea, often a picture. I might see an image in a movie, or a photograph on the web (these days, I’m addicted to tumblr), and it will just stick with me. I’ll start imagining who the people are, how they’re feeling, and how they ended up in that situation, or maybe what they’re going to do next. That will rattle around inside my head for a while until it becomes the skeleton of the story. Then, I usually start putting together an outline in Scrivener, moving scenes around and sketching out characters. After that comes the hard part, taking what’s in my head and translating it into words.

I’ve learned to save the most fun parts until last. Usually, the part where I write about the original seed idea of the story is the most fun for me, and I have far too many partially-written stories on my computer where I wrote that part first and then lost my motivation. So these days, I try to make sure that whichever parts of the story are harder for me to write are the parts I do first, so I save the best till last.

I’m trying to train myself to get the words out first, and then go back and edit them afterwards. But, that’s a little unnatural for me. I tend to edit as I go which means that there usually isn’t so much to do at the proofreading stage, but I think I would produce work much faster if I could get into the habit of letting the words flow out quickly and messily, and then going back and cleaning up afterwards. That’s the theory, anyway.

Thanks for reading. Now it’s time I got back to cranking out those words!

Up next on the #MyWritingProcess blog tour:

eksabinspicE. K. Sabins has been writing sexy stories for her own enjoyment since high school when she read Anais Nin for the first time and got really, incredibly…inspired. Yes, we’ll call it that. These days her stories are a little more involved and lot more raunchy. She loves to write BDSM because of the intensity and the delicious power exchange between dominant and submissive. In real life she loves both sides of the whip, and being the person you’d least expect to be writing sexy stories on her laptop/tablet almost everywhere she goes.

Checkout her blog here

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Exodus (Pessumae Christi 4)

Exodus 250px

Volume 4 in the ‘Pessumae Christi’ series.
Jenny demonstrates the unique nature of the Pessumae Christi to some important visitors, under the watchful eyes of her Master, and learns more from Brother Francis about her own desires when he makes her dominate and punish her best friend…and she likes it.
Jenny learns that Father Sinclair is using her as a reward – passing her around his most favored acolytes. This pleases her greatly, but be careful what you wish for. Jenny learns this lesson well when she discovers it’s not only her Master who can offer her to his friends. The enigmatic Bishop Carmichael reenters her life, only to turn it upside down.
This 16,000 word story continues Jenny’s erotic journey, and features searingly-hot FFM and MMF encounters where both Jenny, and her friend Claire, are pushed to their limits.

Warning: If you are offended by the idea of dominant, lecherous priests having their wicked way with slutty, submissive nuns, this story is probably not for you.


At precisely eight, she rapped on the door.
“Come in, my dear.”
The warmth of the office contrasted sharply with the chill from outside, and Jenny felt herself relaxing as she stepped across the threshold into the familiar room. A fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth, and Jenny saw two figures, who had been seated in the armchairs before it, rising to stand as she entered. But, as he always did, her Master commanded all of her attention. Her breath caught in her throat as his piercing gaze bored into her, holding her in place like a pin in a butterfly, impaled by the steel of his regard.
He rose to stand behind his desk.
“Welcome, Jenny. Perfectly prompt, as ever, and very presentable.”
She blushed at Father Sinclair’s gentle reminder of when she had entered his office wearing nothing but a collar and leash, meant to demonstrate her unswerving devotion to him, but which had backfired dramatically because Father Sinclair’s old friend, and now superior in the Order, Bishop Carmichael, had been visiting with him.
This time, Jenny felt far more comfortable as she took a closer look at the two men beside the fire.
They seemed young, perhaps in their late twenties or early thirties. Jenny herself was barely twenty-one, but completely oblivious to the irony that she considered these two men ‘young’.
She did a double-take as she studied them, her green eyes widening. They were exquisite, with jet-black hair in short, tight curls set above grey eyes that were studying her with as much interest as she was studying them. Both had aquiline noses and full, sensuous lips of a red so deep Jenny almost thought they were wearing lipstick.
But, that wasn’t what had startled her. The two men looked exactly the same, their appearances so similar that they could only be identical twins.
“Jenny, please allow me to present Brothers Francesco and Alessandro, emissaries from Rome.”
She curtsied, bowing her head respectfully as she mumbled something suitable.
“Gentlemen, this is Sister Meretrix – Jenny – the most perfect flower of our Order.”
Jenny blushed scarlet at such high praise from her Master, even as it warmed her to the tips of her toes. Praise from Father Sinclair was rare and precious, and such an extraordinary compliment was unheard of. But, she didn’t know who these men were, or why they were here, and Jenny had begun to learn that, although worldly concerns were not supposed to matter inside the Order, politics seemed to be an exception to that rule.
She kept her gaze downcast and her mouth shut. Whatever Father Sinclair wanted her to know, he would tell her. For now, if he wanted her to be a “perfect flower”, then that’s exactly what she would be.
The twins responded in Italian, the musical language making it sound as though they were singing. Jenny didn’t speak the language, but she had enough church latin to catch a few words and make educated guesses.
“Che bella ragazza!”

Available now at

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Trust in Darkness (BDSM Erotica)

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She wears a blindfold, but that’s for their benefit, not hers.
Tonight, she will be given to a group of strangers; men she’ll never meet, and never see. Master will keep her, and her secret, safe. But can she really go through with it?
It’s always hard for a submissive to find a Dom she can truly trust. Imagine how much harder it is to find such a man if you can’t ever look him in the eye.
It’s taken a long time, but she’s finally found him, and tonight he’s letting her fulfill her ultimate fantasy.
Join her on a night that will indulge all four senses beyond her wildest dreams, as she finally learns to trust, in darkness.


“Are you ready, dear one?”
“Yes, Master,” and I was. At least, I thought I was.
Now that the moment was finally here, after anticipating it for so long, my heart was pounding, and my palms were clammy with sweat.
Master’s hands were gentle as he fastened the silk blindfold in place – not that I needed it of course, but our ‘guests’ would appreciate it, even if they didn’t realize it.
“You’re sure this is what you want? There’s still time to change your mind.”
“I’m sure.”
No I wasn’t, and I wished he’d stop offering me a way out.
I know Master was being his usual, cautious self. He always took care of me, and made sure that I didn’t push myself too far.
I could be reckless, sometimes – saying ‘green’ when I should really have been saying ‘amber’ or ‘red’ – but this time I thought I might really have gone too far. It was taking all of my courage not to back out, and Master kept on giving me the opportunity to do so.
Not that I was unhappy with our relationship – quite the opposite. I’ve known I was a submissive ever since I learned that there was a whole world of delicious kinks outside of what I’d come to think of as ‘vanilla’ sex. Learning of the existence of the whole BDSM scene was nothing short of a revelation. Finally, I could stop feeling like I was some kind of weirdo, just because I got totally wet at the thought of being tied and taken while I squirmed in delicious helplessness.
Admitting to myself that I was a submissive was one thing, but finding a suitable Dom was quite another, especially in my condition. Guys either think that girls like me exist on some kind of higher plane of innocence (yeah, right), or else it becomes all about the disability, rather than being about me.
I’m blind, and have been since birth, but that doesn’t define me, and it doesn’t give anyone the right to judge me or criticize my kinks. I’m a blind submissive. Deal with it.
I was so happy when I finally found Master. He dominates me with the perfect balance of tenderness and strength, and to him my blindness is simply another fact about me, just like my big boobs and long hair (both of which he adores).
We’ve been together for almost six months now; six glorious months during which he’s taken me, with careful and exquisite cruelty, right up to my limits…and then beyond.
I love the totally matter of fact way he deals with my condition – no pity, just pragmatism. Like today – he’s carefully selected some guests (he won’t tell me how many), to help me fulfill one of my deepest and most terrifying fantasies. He hasn’t told any of them that I’m blind. Like I said, sometimes guys react in ways I don’t like; hence the black silk that’s currently tied snugly over my eyes.
Master is simply the best. Who else would think to blindfold a blind girl?
The men are due to arrive any moment now. They all have experience of these situations, and a blindfolded submissive is something they’ll know how to deal with, where a blind submissive might freak them out.
I hear the soft electronic blips of the clock announcing the hour.
It’s time.

Available Now

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Kelly, Begging Forgiveness (Spanking Priest Erotica)

After the disastrous shoplifting incident that led to a hot threesome with not one, but two hunky security guards, Kelly’s strict conscience has her worrying about the state of her immortal soul.
She decides to confess to the rather forbidding priest in the old chapel, but Father Donovan has very old-fashioned ideas about discipline, and what constitutes a suitable penance. A harsh spanking across the altar is only the start of an encounter that will leave Kelly thoroughly chastised…and not at all chaste.
Warning: This story contains religious themes. Please don’t buy it if you’re likely to be offended by lecherous, blaspheming priests taking thorough and graphic advantage of naive but willing young college girls.


The way he said the word made it sound much more like a command than a question. His eyes glinted in the darkness, and the back of Kelly’s neck began to ache from keeping her head tilted to look up at him. She found herself nodding automatically. Something about the sheer presence of the man made it hard for her to even think about disobeying him.
“Yes, Father…”
“Donovan. Tell me, were you punished for your transgression?”
“No, Father. That’s the problem.”
Now she was telling the scary priest that she needed to be punished? As soon as she got out of here, Kelly decided she would simply staple her lips shut and have done with it, before her mouth got her into even more trouble.
Her answer seemed to spark something in Father Donovan’s eyes – a dangerous gleam that brought a sudden lump to Kelly’s throat, and made her heart skip a beat.
The priest gave a small, curt nod, his penetrating eyes never leaving hers.
He gestured towards the corner of the chapel. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dimness, Kelly could see a single confessional with one of those yellow plastic signs in front of it, like supermarkets used to warn you about something spilled on the floor.
“Roof leaked. Haven’t got the funds yet to repair the damage. I’ll take your confession right here.”
Kelly’s head darted from side to side, surveying the silent chapel.
“Trust me,” he said, his small, grim smile the only sign Kelly had yet seen that this man even had anything like a sense of humor, “no one else is going to come in here. We’re completely alone.”
Kelly shivered. That wasn’t as reassuring as he might have meant it to be.
“OK. But I don’t think I can do it with you looking at me like that.”
He gave a small, vaguely affirmative grunt, then took a seat in the pew immediately behind hers. Kelly heard the wood creak as he settled his tall frame onto the bench.
Kelly turned sideways, her shoulders twisting to keep him in sight.
“Eyes front.”
“Yes, Father.”
Kelly looked toward the front of the chapel. The stone altar in front of her was reassuringly solid, and she kept her eyes on it as she took a deep breath.
She would confess about the stealing – after all, that was the part which was bothering her. He didn’t have to know about any of the…other stuff.
Kelly suspected, OK she knew, that the ‘other stuff’ was in fact a sin – probably several. But, it was the stealing which truly weighed on her conscience. Confessing that should be safe enough. Perhaps it would even make her feel better.
He was right, after all. This was the way Kelly had been taught to deal with sin.
“B…bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

Available Now

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Kelly, Trading Favors (MFM Menage Erotica)

Kelly’s always been a good girl…but she’s working on it.
College life is a lot more exciting than small-town Iowa, but when her roommate talks her into shoplifting, things go horribly wrong and Kelly ends up hiding out in an adult theater showing very, very dirty movies.
When the guards catch up to her and threaten to call the cops, Kelly needs to decide just how bad a girl she’s prepared to be.
This 8,000 word erotic short story features a hot MFM threesome in an adult movie theater, and a good girl learning that being bad can be so much better!


Now that she had a moment to catch her breath, the full significance of where she was began to sink in. There were a scattering of men sitting around the theater – they seemed to be arranged to put maximum distance between themselves and the other patrons. Fortunately, no-one seemed to have noticed Kelly stepping inside.
She couldn’t imagine what they might think of her coming in here dressed like a slut, and she really didn’t want to find out.
Kelly tried not to look at the screen, although it was more difficult not to hear the amplified moans and cries of the woman being taken from behind, particularly when she was screaming at the top of her lungs for the man to give it to her harder and deeper. Kelly felt her cheeks burning.
She turned back to the door, eager to get out of this awful place as quickly as possible, but froze when she saw the craggy profile of the older security guard through the glass panel in the door. The two of them were coming inside!
Had they seen her come in, or were they just doing a systematic search of all the places she might be?
How good a look had they gotten before she bolted from the mall?
Had they seen her since she changed her clothes?
The questions crowded Kelly’s mind, jostling for her attention until she couldn’t think straight. All she knew was that she couldn’t let them find her. Anything was better than that, even hiding in the dark with a bunch of perverts, and watching this filth.
Kelly moved as quietly as she could into a seat in the middle of an empty row near the back. She didn’t want to attract the attention of any of the men watching the movie, but she wanted to make herself as inconspicuous as possible in case the security guards came in. If they just glanced in, maybe they wouldn’t notice or recognize her.
The floor felt tacky beneath her feet. Kelly tried hard not to think about why that might be.
Sitting in the semi-darkness, Kelly couldn’t avoid the movie. She tried closing her eyes, but that just made the moans and cries from the screen even harder to ignore.
She’d never seen any porn before. Her school friends had talked about things they’d seen on the internet, but Kelly’s parents were even stricter than the school, and only let her use the computer when they were in the living room with her, and could see exactly what was on her screen. So it was the first time Kelly had ever watched anything like this.
She could see everything.
How could that woman do things like that? She was on her knees now, taking the man’s huge member into her mouth. How could she let someone film her doing that?
It was disgusting and vile and…kind of hot, actually.
The more she watched, the more Kelly became aware of a tingling sensation inside – an electric thrill of excitement mixed with a building tension between her thighs.

Available Now

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Epiphany (Pessumae Christi 3)

Volume three in the ‘Pessumae Christi’ series.

Jenny instinctively dislikes Bishop Carmichael, but such a powerful figure can have her whenever he wants, whether she likes it or no.

Her best friend Claire volunteers to turn a twosome into a threesome, but Claire can’t come with her when the bishop summons Jenny to a gala dinner for some wealthy benefactors of the church – an event where the bishop has a very special reward planned for his rich friends.

This latest, nineteen-thousand word story in the Pessumae Christi series features a steamy mff threesome, and a scorchingly-hot gangbang during which Jenny is introduced to the pleasures of erotic humiliation.

Warning: If you are offended by the idea of dominant, lecherous priests having their wicked way with slutty, submissive nuns, this story is probably not for you.


Now that she was here, Jenny found her courage failing her. She’d been thinking of this moment all day, especially while preparing herself tonight. She still wasn’t very skilled at makeup, but with the help of her best friend Claire, now known as Sister Modesty, she had re-created her appearance from the second half of her initiation – dark, sultry eyes and lips shining wetly like fresh blood. She would show Father Sinclair, as clearly as she knew how, that she was his to use however he wished.
Quickly, before her tightly-wound courage deserted her, Jenny shrugged off her robe and kicked off her sandals. The cold air washed over her, raising goosebumps on her skin, although it wasn’t just the temperature that made her nipples harden. She had decided to go before Father Sinclair naked, wearing nothing but the collar and leash he had put on her that night, so that as soon as he saw her he would know she was his slave, now and forever.
Trembling with excitement and with cold, Jenny knocked on the heavy wooden door of Father Sinclair’s chambers.
~ * ~ * ~
The first thing Jenny noticed as she stepped through the door was the wash of heat from the logs burning merrily in the fireplace. Even though she had only taken off her robe a moment ago, the bitter coldness of the corridor had seemed to drain the heat from her, and the warm air in Father Sinclair’s office was like a caress, soothing every inch of her naked body.
Father Sinclair was sitting behind his desk. Just the sight of him made Jenny melt inside. As always, his eyes captivated her – impossibly blue, and with an undefinable something that made it seem as if he was peering into the very depths of her soul. For the briefest of instants, Jenny thought she saw an answering affection in his eyes – a twin to the desperate yearning in her heart. Then his eyes widened in surprise as he took in her nakedness, his gaze travelling the length of her body, pausing at her throat for a moment when he noticed the collar, and the leash whose chain glinted in the light of the fire as it dangled between her breasts.
Jenny felt something spring to life inside her as Father Sinclair studied her body – a banked ember springing into flame once more now that she was finally back in his presence after what felt like an eternity. The look of approval on his face warmed her from the inside, and was that a flicker of desire she saw?
A small smile quirked Father Sinclair’s lips, a mischievous gleam of amusement sparking to light in those piercing blue eyes.
“Precisely on time, Jenny. I expected nothing less of course. Your Excellency, allow me to present to you Sister Meretrix, the newest Sister of our humble Order, and a truly exceptional girl as you can see. Jenny, this is Bishop Carmichael.”

Available now at

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Melody Hooked Up

Melody’s relationship with Lady Amanda’s sub Eric deepens, the two of them indulging their curiosity to explore kinks beyond what their Master and Mistress would approve. Meanwhile, Melody has to overcome her jealousy and help Master enjoy the prize she won for him – the use, for a night, of a beautiful and fragile submissive. When her jealousy prompts Melody to choose a frightening anal hook to use on the girl, Master teaches her that choices have consequences.
Later, Melody takes Kim to the fetish club, and ends up having to submit to Lady Amanda in order to keep her eager but inexperienced friend safe from Lady Amanda’s whip.
This 11,000 word story is the latest episode in Melody’s BDSM journey.


Melody adjusted the black silk trench coat, ensuring that the front showed a suitable amount of cleavage, and that the hem was hanging evenly at mid-thigh. It was her favorite garment – almost the first gift her Master had given her to wear for him. The soft boots were another gift – as was virtually all of her ‘play’ wardrobe. They had high, stiletto heels, and gripped her slender legs in buttery black leather like a lover’s hands. The last time she’d worn these boots had been the night he’d given them to her, when he’d taken her to the fetish club and she’d won a wager for him – a wager whose prize he’d be enjoying tonight.
As per his instructions, the coat and boots were all she wore. Her Master had an extensive collection of other items that he might make her wear for him, but very few of those would be considered clothes. Melody gave a small shiver of anticipation, her lips quirking upward in a small smile as she checked her makeup. After Melody had confessed that she didn’t feel very capable in that area, Master had sent her to learn from some of the finest makeup artists in town. Today she’d gone for strong, dark eyes – a midnight blue just above her eyes blending to a paler shade just beneath her eyebrows – giving her a mysterious, almost sinister look, while lipstick in a deep burgundy emphasized her mouth. Yes, she was pleased with her look – just as well, given tonight’s agenda.
Once inside, she paused for effect before slowly untying the belt of her coat and allowing him to help her take it off. She turned, wearing nothing but thigh-high boots and a smile, a warm glow of pride spreading through her at the look in his eyes.
“Welcome, Melody.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Melody lowered her eyes, as was proper, following him into the apartment. Accepting a glass of wine, she sank to her knees in front of his chair with a contented sigh.
The doorbell rang almost immediately.
“That will be Annabel. Show her in please, Melody.”
Annabel was her Master’s prize for the wager that Melody had won – a wager she had entered into with Lady Amanda, a Dominatrix, at the fetish club. In entering the wager, Melody had gone against her Master’s instructions. For that, she’d been duly punished. Nonetheless, she had won, and his prize was Annabel, one of the Dominatrix’ pets, for one night. Melody knew nothing about Annabel, other than that Lady Amanda had said that her Master wanted her, and had done for some time. Melody had felt a spark of jealousy flare into life when she’d heard that – a spark that still burned tonight.
The spark grew into a flame as Melody opened the door and got her first look at Annabel. Quite simply, the girl was stunning – petite and slender, with a cascade of coppery curls falling around her shoulders, and the greenest eyes Melody had ever seen. Those eyes widened as Annabel took in Melody’s costume…or lack of it, her delicately freckled skin reddening as she blushed.
“You must be Annabel.”
A nervous nod.
“Come in. He’s waiting for you.”
The girl’s throat moved as she swallowed, her fingers twining together as she stepped into the apartment.
Annabel accepted a glass of wine, holding it in front of her with both hands as she stood in the center of the room, facing the Master’s chair. Melody could see ripples on the dark surface of the liquid as the girl trembled.
Master’s voice was grave but kind.
“Did Lady Amanda explain the circumstances of your visit here, Annabel?”
“Yes, Sir. I am your prize in a wager, I understand.”
“And you accept this? You know you are free to leave, at any time, if you wish.”
“I will do as my Mistress commands, Sir.”
Master’s eyes held a warm glow of approval, Melody noted, the jealous flame inside her getting a little hotter.

Available now at

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Lust in the Dark

There’s something dangerously sensuous about being blindfolded. Unable to see, other senses are heightened; touch, taste, hearing, smell – everything is so much more intense.
In the darkness, you’re completely at the mercy of your lover…or is that lovers? And what if you don’t even know who’s there?
Bestselling author Imogen Linn presents a collection of four previously published short stories comprising almost 30,000 words that will transport you into the sinfully erotic world that lies on the other side of the soft, black silk that covers your eyes.




“Will you do this for me?”

Jasmine’s boyfriend dressed her up to go out, so he could show off his hot girlfriend to his buddies. Back home, he wants to play a little game, blindfolding her for a hot session of kinky sex.
But with the blindfold on, and her hands tied behind her back, Jasmine realizes that the two of them are not alone, and that tonight’s game is a lot kinkier than she’d bargained for.

An erotic short story of approx. 7,500 words, featuring a hot, blindfolded gangbang.

Melody in the Dark
In this, her third encounter with her Master, Melody is thrilled to be invited to dine with him in his apartment. But, after the blindfold goes on, and he opens the door to a group of his friends, Melody realizes that what’s really on the menu is her, and the courses of the meal include a starter of oral, a spit-roast (well done), and a very gooey dessert.

All Tied Up
Carol has prepared a special surprise for John…herself, naked, blindfolded and handcuffed to the bed, waiting for her husband to find and ravish her.

There’s just one problem – John’s not coming home tonight.
Tied and helpless, Carol tries to get her hunky, ex-military neighbor to come and help her out. Surely he would never take advantage of his sexy neighbor’s predicament…or would he?

This erotic short story of approx. 5,000 words contains hot, kinky sex between a dominant older man and a hot young wife who’s gotten herself into a sticky situation.

Mesmerizing Caroline – The Society
Dr. Henderson’s hypnotherapy is turning her into a kinky slut, and she knows it, but Caroline’s having too much fun to care!

It’s when she comes to the attention of the mysterious organization known as The Society that she realizes there is more going on than meets the eye, and that they’ve been watching her for some time.

Her first assignment for them, a blindfolded gangbang in a luxurious hotel suite, will push her limits farther than ever before.

This short story of 12,000 words contains a girl-girl strap-on scene, an anonymous fuck in an elevator, and a scorching hot blindfolded BDSM gangbang.

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Tricked (Blindfolded, Tied & Gangbanged)

“Will you do this for me?”
Jasmine’s boyfriend dressed her up to go out, so he could show off his hot girlfriend to his buddies. Back home, he wants to play a little game, blindfolding her for a hot session of kinky sex.
But with the blindfold on, and her hands tied behind her back, Jasmine realizes that the two of them are not alone, and that tonight’s game is a lot kinkier than she’d bargained for.
An erotic short story of approx. 7,500 words, featuring a hot, blindfolded gangbang.


“How about it, honey? Will you do this for me?”
Jasmine’s only answer was a slow, mischievous smile. She gathered her long blond hair, holding it out of the way as she turned her back to Craig and let him settle the black silk scarf over her eyes before tying it securely behind her head.
“Come over here, baby.”
Craig took her hands in his, gently helping her to her feet and guiding her to the center of the room. Jasmine could feel the excitement building already. She couldn’t see a thing, and having to trust Craig to lead her safely through the darkness was already turning her on.
They’d been out tonight, meeting up at the bar with his buddies. Craig had told her what to wear – he loved to dress her up and show her off. Jasmine thought it must be a guy thing, maybe some kind of dominance display, saying “Look what I’ve got” to all his friends.
Whatever the reason, she liked it. Dressing up (or down) was always fun, and she’d been the only girl in the group tonight. It was a simple outfit – a white blouse that was about two sizes too small, so that her breasts strained the buttons on the front, and a skirt so short that it showed off the tops of her black hold-up stockings, unless she was very careful how she walked and sat.
The looks and comments she’d gotten from Craig’s friends had been extremely appreciative – even more so than usual. Sometimes, she’d caught them exchanging looks with Craig, as if they were all in on some secret she didn’t know about. But whatever, being the center of attention of a group of hot, fit guys had had its usual effect on her, and by the time they got home, Jasmine was just about ready to jump on Craig the moment they got inside the door.
But he seemed to be in the mood to take things slower, much to Jasmine’s frustration. The way he’d kept checking his watch was really annoying, too. Here she was, a raging bundle of hot, sexual energy, and he seemed more interested in what time it was.
Still, when he’d finally broached the subject of wanting to play a little game together, Jasmine had forgiven him.
Now she felt his strong fingers working their way down her blouse, opening one button after another to reveal her firm, high breasts. Her breath caught as his fingers brushed her hard nipples, sending delicious tingles through her body.
Her skirt and underwear soon followed her blouse to the floor, and Jasmine stood in the center of the room in nothing but stockings and high-heels – and the blindfold, of course.
“You’re so beautiful.”
A soft, tender kiss, and then Craig’s hands on her shoulders, gently but firmly pressing her down.
The tiles were hard and cold against Jasmine’s legs as she knelt on the floor. She thought about asking Craig for a cushion to kneel on, but she didn’t want to spoil the moment.
It had been quite a while since she’d seen him so keen and eager – almost hungry for her. Not that there was anything wrong with their relationship. It was just that the initial desperation, when they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other, or their clothes on, was starting to die down a little. So, Jasmine didn’t want to risk breaking the fragile tension that was starting to build – the fluttering excitement in her chest.
When she heard the sound of his zipper from inches in front of her face, Jasmine’s heart began to beat faster. The smell of him came next, musky and masculine, then she felt the heat of him against her skin.

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All Tied Up

Carol has prepared a special surprise for John…herself, naked, blindfolded and handcuffed to the bed, waiting for her husband to find and ravish her.
There’s just one problem – John’s not coming home tonight.
Tied and helpless, Carol tries to get her hunky, ex-military neighbor to come and help her out. Surely he would never take advantage of his sexy neighbor’s predicament…or would he?
This erotic short story of approx. 5,000 words contains hot, kinky sex between a dominant older man and a hot young wife who’s gotten herself into a sticky situation.


I took one last look around the room. There was still time to change my mind.
The handcuffs were waiting for me where I’d left them, at the head of the bed, looped around the central metal bar of the bed frame. The steel and chrome gleamed in the dim light that shone through the heavy curtains. Another pair of silk scarves would have been more comfortable, or maybe some of those wide leather cuffs I had seen in the shop where I got the handcuffs – the ones that buckled around your wrist like a tiny leather belt. But, even if they would have been more comfortable, there’s something wonderfully absolute about handcuffs. Nothing else would give me quite the same feeling of being bound and helpless, and utterly at John’s mercy. Besides, scarfs and buckles would be easy enough to get out of, if I wanted to, and that would have been cheating.
I had placed the handcuff key on my nightstand. After I tied the blindfold over my eyes, I would lie down, arms above my head, my naked body stretched down the middle of the bed.
The scarves at my ankles kept my legs spread wide apart, leaving me totally on display. When I was ready, I would find the handcuffs by feel, then fasten them around my wrists.
I wanted John to find me like this – tied down, blindfolded and helpless, his to do with as he wished, indulging his naughtiest desires.
I’d been reading a series of books recently that featured some pretty kinky sex, and a week or so ago the idea of tonight’s little game had snuck into my mind and just wouldn’t leave. I kept thinking about it, my imagination getting more and more detailed and elaborate, fantasizing about all the things John would do to me, and how it would feel to be totally helpless before him.
Finally I had given in.
I’d texted John earlier, telling him it was important to come straight home because I had an important surprise in store for him. I knew he would understand – that was our code for one of our special sessions that could last the whole weekend, if I were lucky. John had very quickly called me back to say he was on his way home, and would be here in about fifteen minutes.
I thought about waiting to cuff myself until I heard his car in the driveway, but I wanted the anticipation. I wanted to know what it would be like to wait there, helpless in the darkness of the blindfold, knowing that my lover was coming, and that he would be able to do anything he wanted with me – anything at all.
That’s why I had left the key on the nightstand, instead of within reach of my cuffed hands – so that, once I was handcuffed, I wouldn’t have any choice. I would be stuck until John came home and ravished me.
I been thinking about this moment all week, and I was already raring to go. After being tied up and helpless for fifteen minutes, I knew I would be desperately horny, and I was looking forward to sharing that with my wonderful husband.
I took a deep breath and placed the black silk scarf carefully over my eyes, making sure I couldn’t see a thing, then tied it firmly.
I lay down, stretching my arms above my head, my fingers fumbling at the bed frame until I found the cold metal handcuffs waiting for me.
I carefully fastened the first cuff, making sure it was tight enough to be secure, but not too tight.
The sound of the second cuff closing around my wrist was harsh and final. Now I was completely committed, with no turning back.

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