Well lookie who we've scooped for your blog reading pleasure? Only the fabulous Ms Justine Elyot!!!
Hello, Brit Babes, how nice to see you. Brit Babe Tabitha invited me here today to
talk about my new novella, By His Command, which is the sequel to His House of
Submission. I thought I'd say a few words about how the two books are different.
When I write about D/s relationships, sometimes I want them to be all dizzy fantasy
(see Princess In Chains) and sometimes I want them to take place in the real world
(see Confessions of a Kinky Wife).
In this series, I've given myself a bit of both. His House of Submission places Jasper
and Sarah in a beautiful bubble, spending a long, hot summer experimenting with
their dynamic in the protected atmosphere of Jasper's secluded mansion.
But they can't shut themselves off from the world forever, so By His Command deals
with their efforts to transfer their wonderful summer love to a more stable footing. I
was keen for Sarah not to be the type of fictional submissive who drifts along without
a purpose until the all-saving Dom comes into her life (although I have written these
before – see Lecture Notes) but an independent, grown-up woman in her own right. In
this book, she has to make decisions about how to balance her career and her private
life. And then there's the dreaded Meet-The-Parents moment…
Here's an excerpt:
He put the last forkful of food into his mouth and fixed me with his eyes, their
expression both playful and serious, a Jasper speciality. I'd never known a man who
could do that before.
'I'm just trying to imagine my parents' faces,' I said, with a sudden horrified
laugh. 'God. My dad would kill you with fire.'
'Would he now? What if they knew about us…do they know about us?'
I shook my head.
'Well…it's a bit soon, isn't it? Do your parents know?'
How did we get here? This seemed ridiculously like reality, like the kind of
concerns people in normal relationships had. I'd never considered that Jasper and I
had a normal relationship, more a kind of very intense, concentrated connection.
'I might have mentioned something to my mother,' he said, sounding as if he
challenged me to tell him that he shouldn't. 'She's always on at me about when I'll
settle down with a nice girl, produce grandchildren, blah blah.'
More laughter burst from my lips. It seemed crazy that Jasper - mysterious and
glamorous and gloriously sexy Jasper - had a mother who bent his ear about all the
usual motherly things. If I could imagine his mother at all, it was a very jaded Norma
Desmond type in a turban, lounging by a pool with a small white dog. Famous auteurs
who have had secret affairs with European royalty surely didn't come from suburban
semis with a swing set in the back garden.
Perhaps they did.
'Am I a nice girl then?' I asked, reciprocating in the footsie game, slipping off
my shoe and sliding my toes inside his trouser leg.
'You're a very bad girl,' he said, lowering his voice beyond the earshot of
our neighbours, thank goodness. 'But I think that's nice. Like the old cream cake
campaign. Naughty but nice.'
'I'm only bad because you make me,' I whispered. 'You're an evil influence on
me. You make me do things I'd never have dreamed of.'
'Oh, really? I've mesmerised you, have I?'
'Yes, you have. You're like a kinky Svengali.'
'Oh, I like that. I'm that bloke off the telly talent shows with a riding crop.'
'Please don't!' My half-horrified laugh drew attention to us once more. 'I'm
'Some people would find that image erotically arousing.'
'Yeah, well, I'm not one of them.'
'Good. I'm a hundred times sexier than him anyway.'
'A thousand,' I confirmed, prodding the delightful springy flesh of his calf.
'But seriously,' he said, locking my ankle around his so I couldn't move it. 'I
have mentioned you to my mother. You think it's too soon. Why?'
'Oh, well.' I had to think about this. 'I suppose…I can't get my head around this
being a thing. Us. Being real. Like…a relationship. It's just been so strange and so…
Well. Just so strange.'
It didn't sound much of an explanation, I realised. It was hard to put into
words. In a funny way, what I had with Jasper felt too precious to share with the
mundane everyday world of family and friends. It was mine, a bubble that I had to
hold in my palm and protect from the slightest breath of air.
'You don't think this is a relationship?' Jasper's face contorted with confusion.
He looked a little offended. 'What the hell is it then?'
'Something more special,' I said, trying to appease but feeling like a clumsy
foot-in-mouth oaf. 'Something so amazing that I'm scared of tarnishing it – like an
incredible piece of plate or crystal or something you find in an antiques mart that
you're terrified of dropping or breaking.'
It was an analogy that appealed to both of us.
'Oh, I see,' he said, reaching for my fingers. He stroked them with something
like reverence. 'I see. You think of this as a fragile thing?'
'I only know I'm scared of ruining it, because it's like magic. It's so close to
fantasy. It just doesn't seem real. I know I keep saying that…'
'Sarah, it's real. I'm real, you're real. What we have has substance. Can you
'I want to believe it.'
'What we do requires a closer and stronger level of intimacy than most of
those oh-so-real and solid relationships you're comparing us to. We have to trust each
other absolutely. You don't trust some fly-by-night, do you?'
I shook my head. He was right – on a profound level, I had trusted him from
day one. How had I done that? Why had I done it? At that point, there must have been
a strong likelihood that he was seducing me for the sake of a bit of kinky fun and
nothing more. I should also have considered the possibility that he would turn out to
be a nasty and abusive piece of work.
I must have known that he wasn't. But I couldn't make sense of how I had
known. Was it instinct? Any agony aunt worth her salt would have warned me against
getting too involved with him. Yet here I was. That old familiar voice in my head said
that old familiar thing. You can't analyse it. Just go with it.
'No,' he spoke for me. 'And I'm not some fly-by-night. I had plans for you
from before we even met. I've told you that.'
'That's absurd, though. You couldn't have known we'd be…like this…'
'No, a real spark is hard to find. I suppose I just got lucky.'
'What have you told her? Your mother, I mean.'
'Nothing too specific. Met a nice girl…hoping it all works out…that kind of
'You're hoping it all works out?' I didn't dare hope again. I was always trying
to stop myself from hoping, it occurred to me. Perhaps I should just let go of my fears
and allow hope in. But when things 'worked out', didn't that have a sort of 'forever'
connotation? Happily ever after.
No. He couldn't mean that.
I kicked hope back out and girded my sorry excuse for a tough exterior.
'Yes. Is there anything wrong with that?' He sipped his drink.
'Of course not. I mean, I feel the same.'
'Good. Because she wants to meet you.'
'Sarah!' He dropped his voice to the minimum. 'Six strokes,' he whispered,
tightening the ankle lock to near-painful proportions.
'Why? What? I can't!'
'Of course you can, you silly mare. There's no rush. She mentioned Christmas.'
I waited for my heart to stop galloping and tried to take a measured view.
'Christmas? I'll be at home. Mum and Dad's, I mean.'
'I don't mean Christmas Day. Just some time over the holidays. You have a
car, I have a car. I'm sure something can be arranged. Christ, this is like pulling teeth.
I had no idea you were so commitment-phobic.'
'I'm not commitment-phobic,' I said. 'I'm not. I'm just…scared.'
'That's what a phobia is,' he said with exaggerated patience. 'Listen, love,
I know it's easier for you if I just lay down the law, so that's what I'm going to do.
You're coming with me to visit my mother at some point during late December. It's
settled. It's an order. Right?'
'Oh…right,' I said, flooded with curious relief. Jasper said it was so. It was so.
I squished my thighs together, still damp from our earlier activities, and got another
little burst of adoring submission from it.
'I'm serious about the six strokes, too,' he said. 'As soon as we get back to my
place you're going straight into the study and bending over the desk while I fetch the
cane. Do you understand?'
I did a quick side-of-the-eye check on the neighbours before murmuring, 'Yes,
'I won't have you swearing like a sailor in public and showing me up. In fact, I
think I might pick up a nice bit of ginger on the way home. What do you say to that?'
'Oh,' I moaned, wringing my hands. Ginger was Jasper's new favourite thing.
My bottom didn't share his enthusiasm for it.
But if he wanted to fig me, then he would fig me.
There was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
If you're interested, the book is available now at Amazon
Thanks Justine! If you are new to the erotic works of Ms Elyot - then quick! Of you go and follow the link - treat yourself today to some of the most fabulous kink around and I'm not joking!
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