Monday, 28 September 2015

Special Guest J.D. Martins



So far I've had two novellas in the City Nights Series published; One Night in Madrid and One Night in Pamplona. I'm currently preparing a third for submission to Tirgearr; One Night in Boston. I don't know if I have a fourth story inside me that fits this series, though the third has been the easiest to write in terms of keeping to the word count!
The idea is wonderful for a writer - two people and a city, and see what happens. Of course, you have to discover who the characters are and why they're open to a new relationship (if that's the angle). Whether it's a novel or novella, that work is the same, and sometimes it's tempting to keep on with them a little two long.
The city has to be the third character. There can be, and usually are, other people in these stories, but the real focus is on the love interests and the city; how the city shapes their encounter and how it makes them feel more or less inclined to get their clothes off.
I chose cities I know well from having lived in each for a number of years. It made that character much easier to draw, like someone you'd written about in a previous novel, or a real person you're taking large chunks of because they're how you imagine the character. Of course, nobody knows any city exactly the same way as others do. It's possible I have my heroes walk right by an important landmark without comment, and a reader who knows the city might think that a mistake; or decry that the heroes never went to his or her favourite spot in the city. But sometimes the character might not know that point of interest, or think it important to point out, even if the author does - just as there are character traits and histories that are not mentioned in the story despite being integral to the character's development.
Such constraints on what you have time to show gives more room for the erotic scenes in the story. These were the hardest parts to write - seems many authors say that! - and the ones I often left till last, giving just a rough outline in the first draft.
I know many writers say you don't have to know everything about a subject to write it, or to have experienced it yourself. It's not like I haven't experienced sex, or have trouble talking about it - as a biology teacher in my other life, I see it as one of the most important parts of my job to provide information about it. It's a little different though. They say we write about death and murder without having killed someone, or even having interviewed an actual murderer. That's true, but it's also true that none of our readers (I hope!) have killed a person either, and so they're not going to call foul if you get something wrong, or if something doesn't seem authentic. I think that's the fear, and part of the challenge in writing erotic scenes. The other challenge is describing with words what is often a wordless act, when one doesn't necessarily think at all. I'd like to believe if I ever was to kill someone, I'd be conscious of my actions (it would help not make all the mistakes murderers always seem to make) and taking note of what was going on. In the bedroom, though, if things go well, we lose ourselves in the act and come out the other side a little bit dazed.
The erotic scenes are integral to these City Nights stories, however. Sex can be the driving force for a lot of our actions, even if there's usually more behind it, and there always is in a story worth telling. Like every real relationship, including marriage, you start out for the sex and you keep going for the other things.
The sex in each story is different, because of the different circumstances each set of characters find themselves in: in Pamplona they're young and have just met, in Boston, they're older and supposedly wiser; in Madrid, they have a history, albeit a very superficial one where they danced around one another without really interacting until their one night in Madrid.
And in each story, after the sex, the characters are left wondering what, if anything, is left. The motive for sex is pretty obvious beforehand, but afterwards, it something we sometimes wonder about - in the starkness of the post coital clarity of mind, when the brain is thinking again; why did we do that? And if there is romance in the erotic romance the answer is usually pretty clearly there - emotions, feelings, friendship, trust, and calmness; a way of being easy with that other person - the comfort that comes with not having to be anyone but the person you want to be, the person you can be without fear of being laughed at. There are different ways to get to that spot, and even if they don't always quite reach there in the space of 25k words, the path is there at least.




Author Bio.

JD Martins has been called Spanish, Mexican, Chinese, Philippine and English and Australian. He is none of these.
He's lived in four cities in three countries on two continents, but he doesn't feel like he's travelled very much. His life in each city was rather mundane and he didn't get out much - tending to move his pen more than his body.
He still aspires to see much more of the world - probably when his wife becomes rich enough to let him retire from day jobs.
He would like to live like Ernest Hemmingway: periodically sending novel manuscripts to his publisher from various far-flung corners of the world, though he's not sure the quality will be quite the same. Until then, he has contented himself with living like Robert Graves - in a pleasant part of Spain with a quiet life - and being able to do some things that Hemmingway did - trout fishing in Spain, game hunting in Africa, watching bullfights and running with the bulls, - and a few that he did not get to do - surfing, skydiving, bungee jumping, and getting erotic stories published.
He writes novels for adults and younger readers under the name David J. O'Brien.



Author Page

Facebook


Madrid Purchase links:













Pamplona purchase links











Thursday, 24 September 2015

A Hat Trick from Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

Hi everyone,

My hat trick (which, in case you didn't know, basically means three successive achievements. I'm para-phrasing a little there) is having three releases in one month! I'm not sure how it happened, but I'm definitely not complaining :)

My first new release came on 1st September, and was my M/F/M paranormal erotic short story, Sated. Here's the blurb:

A human, a vampire and a werewolf walked into a bar. Sexy is what happens next.

Since getting together with her vampire boyfriend, Ace, Aneesa is enjoying a sex life she could never have with a human. Ace has skill, strength, stamina…and is massively adventurous. Aneesa is checking things off her sexual bucket list at a rate of knots. However, she hasn’t even come close to experiencing the ultimate item on her list. So when Ace beats her to it, proposing a threesome with his werewolf friend, Barton, Aneesa’s definitely up for it.

Barton is attractive, smart and sexy—almost too good to be true, in fact. Aneesa decides not to jump straight into things, but makes sure it’s what she truly wants. However, it turns out Barton’s not so easily dissuaded.

Will Aneesa get the ultimate erotic experience she’s desired for so long? Will she be truly sated, or is the plan doomed to failure?

Grab your copy here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sated/

Add to Goodreads here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26202383-sated

*****

My second release, on the 15th September, was part of a boxed set. My femdom story, The Next Big Thing (also available in Sexy Just Got Rich), is part of the What To Read After Fifty Shades of Grey - BDSM & Beyond collection. Here's the blurb:

This great new box set features ten erotic reads by a cast of NYT & USA Today best selling authors!

Dangerously Inked by Eden Bradley — When Aussie Dom Finn Carter spends New Year’s Eve in New Orleans at The Bastille, the city’s infamous BDSM club, a night of play with a beautiful sub leaves him wanting more—much more.  But when the tattoo artist he has an appointment with turns out to be her, more than his flesh may be marked forever.

Cirque de Minuit by Annabel Joseph — A dark, taciturn trapezist lives in a lonely world of pain, until a fellow performer reaches out to him with her unique combination of innocence and recklessness. Before long the two are collaborating on an aerial act for the Cirque de Minuit.

Played By The Master by Opal Carew — Jacqueline crashes a billionaire’s exclusive poker game in order to seduce him into granting a favor to save her sister, but instead finds herself Played by the Master.

Black Jack by Mari Carr — When his best friend Emma calls in a favor, asking Jack to perform in a pirate fetish fantasy at the nightclub she manages, she inadvertently opens Pandora’s box—for both of them. As Jack’s secret desires come to light, Emma finds herself enmeshed in sensual explorations of BDSM, wax play, bondage and sex in public that leave her questioning her vanilla existence.

The Erotic Dark by Nina Lane — Submission is her only escape…and punishment takes many forms. Seeking escape from her criminal past, a desperate woman enslaves herself to a dark trio of men who own an antiquated Louisiana plantation.

Finding Submission by Megan Michaels — Preston Harrison was the picture of the gentleman Southern lawyer, as handsome and affable, as he was strict and precise, but he was more than a lawyer though — he was also a Dom. Being the only daughter of a respected Judge should’ve set Avery up for a life of ease, until she ran afoul of the law.

Owned by M. Never — “I like you collared, baby. I like you naked, I like you mine.”  Ellie Stevens has lusted over Kayne Roberts since he first walked into the import/export company she works for a little over a year ago.

Submission Therapy by Abi Aiken & Rozlyn Sparks — Bad girl billionaire Christina Pocock is used to being on top. A hard-nosed and ruthless CEO. An obsessive, compulsive micro-manager who trusts nobody with her business. Public or private. Beneath that brittle facade, though, she’s a hot mess.

Storm: Episodes 1 & 2 by Tara Crescent — Timothy Banks is Hollywood’s hottest star. He is funny, charming and utterly sexy.  I probably shouldn’t have named my vibrator after him. I probably shouldn’t have abandoned him in the middle of a winter storm. I probably shouldn’t have started playing BDSM games with him.

The Next Big Thing by Lucy Felthouse — Catriona’s life seems to be spiraling out of control. One minute she’s a successful investment banker with a flat by the Thames and a healthy bank balance, the next she’s a world-famous author. On launch day, curiosity gets the better of her and she goes into a busy London bookstore to queue up for her copy. A chance meeting leads to a whole lot more, giving Catriona the opportunity to experience the things she’s previously only fantasized about.

Grab your copy here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/what-to-read-after-fsog-bdsm-beyond/

*****

My last, but certainly not my least, release for the month is Eyes Wide Open. This is perhaps the most exciting, as it's a full-length novel. It's M/M/F BDSM erotic romance, set in lovely London, England. It was released just two days ago, on the 22nd September, and I hope you'll check it out!

Here's the blurb:

An ordinary girl catapulted into an extraordinary world meets two even more extraordinary men—but what will she do when she discovers their sexy secret?

Fiona Gillespie moved to London shortly after graduating to take advantage of the opportunities the capital could offer. However, months later, she’s still living in a horrid flat and working in a grimy East End pub. The problem is, she doesn’t really know what she wants to do, career-wise. So when she happens upon an advertisement for a job at a plush Mayfair hotel, she jumps at the chance. A great deal of determination and a spot of luck land Fiona her dream role.

But working at the Totally Five Star London is just the beginning. She adores the role and flourishes, impressing her bosses and making her increasingly determined to climb the career ladder.

While her career is flying, though, her love life is non-existent. She hasn’t even thought about men, never mind met or dated one for months, so when she bumps into two gorgeous businessmen in the hotel, she’s surprised to find her head has been well and truly turned. Even more surprisingly, they flirt with her—both of them! She’s drawn to James and Logan, despite feeling that they’re way out of her league.

When a misunderstanding leads Fiona to James and Logan’s sumptuous top-floor suite, she has no idea what she’s about to uncover. Scenes of people-trafficking, drug-pushing and wild sex parties all appear in her active imagination. Yet what she actually sees is something she’d never even considered before, something that piques her interest.

After discovering their sexy secret, what will she do with this new-found knowledge?

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of anal play, spanking, sex toys and bondage.

Grab your copy here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/eyes-wide-open-totally-five-star-london/

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26080607-eyes-wide-open


There's more coming very soon, too, so be sure to keep an eye on my website and social media pages for the latest gossip! ;)

Happy Reading,
Lucy x

Monday, 21 September 2015

One (or Several) Night(s) in Boise by Special Guest Troy Lambert


It was a simple challenge really. Write an erotica novella for a series. Something outside my normal genre, but that is one thing writing does, right? It stretches you.

As a reader, I want to be challenged too. I don’t want the same old thing either. I want my mind to be challenged, my heart opened to new possibilities. I’ve read every genre, edited almost all of them, and I’ve learned something new from each.

Writing an erotica novella taught me a few simple things, and it relates to not just one, but several Nights in Boise.

First, sex is a part of every story. It can be positive: an expression of love, an outlet of passion, and a fulfillment of pleasure. Sex can also be dark: a motive, a tool of bribery, or an act of cruelty. As human beings, we all have our own story, and some are brighter than others.

Second, people are easily shocked, but not offended. Most of those who have read One Night in Boise are at first surprised that I wrote an erotica novel, but then easily accept it. In fact, they recognize my author voice and style still. The story focuses on another element of life.

Third, creativity is not limited to genre. Being the managing editor of the series for a while, and writing erotica myself showed me that each person’s imagination and creativity are sparked in different ways, even when given the same topic and guidelines.

Boise may not raise erotic thoughts in your head. It might not be an exotic destination, but one thing One Night in Boise proves. Life here is thrilling, and you just might be inspired to spend several nights.

Or read the rest of the City Nights series, and travel the world. You’ll be sure to find satisfaction and imagination wherever you roam.

Available on Amazon US, Amazon UK, and Smashwords.

*****

Author Bio

Author Troy Lambert, an active member of the International Thriller Writers Organization recently released a short novella in the Ridge Falls series, titled Typewriter Repair Shop, and a collection of short stories also in the Ridge Falls series, titled Into the Darkness with Marlie Harris.

Passionate about writing dark, psychological thrillers, his work includes Broken Bones, a collection of his short stories, The Samuel Elijah Johnson series, including Redemption, Temptation, and Confession, the horror Satanarium, co-authored with Poppet and published by Wild Wolf Publishing.

Don’t think he lacks diversity as, last year, Stray Ally (for dog lovers) was published March 4th by Tirgearr Publishing and an erotic thriller novella, One Night in Boise, part of the “City Nights” series also by Tirgearr Publishing, was available as of May 27th.

Mr. Lambert began his writing life at a young age, penning the as yet unpublished George and the Giant Castle at age six. He grew up in southern Idaho, and after many adventures including a short stint in the US Army and a diverse education, Troy returned to Boise, Idaho where he works as a freelance writer, analyst, and editor. He is currently traveling this summer and doing consulting with small museums and non-profits.

Troy enjoys the outdoors as an active skier, cyclist, hiker, angler, hunter, and a terrible beginning golfer.

Author Website: www.troylambertwrites.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authortroy

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Troy-Lambert/191932724173411?ref=hl

Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/Troy-Lambert/e/B005LL1QEC

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Authrotroy

Smashwords:https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/AuthorTroy

Linkedin: http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=106106955&trk=nav_responsive_tab_profile

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/authortroy/

Thursday, 17 September 2015

Keeping Office Hours


I wouldn’t exactly say I’m an efficiency expert. But I have my short cuts, lots of short cuts. And I’m always finding new and creative ways to make more short cuts. My biggest Suzie Homemaker tip: if at all possible, ignore it. My biggest shopping tip: if at all possible don’t. My biggest cooking tip: if it takes more than thirty minutes, don’t make it. Let me see, what have I missed?

I’m the master of the three-minute shower and the no-fuss hair style. I can fly through the necessary ironing while my brain is planning the next chapter. I can disengage completely with the outside world anytime, anyplace, anyhow if it’ll give me just five extra minutes of writing time, and it’s amazing what I can write in five minutes.

If I were to venture a guess, I’d say all of us Brit Babes are efficiency experts when it comes to eeking out just a few more minutes at the keyboard, just a couple more seconds editing, just a little more time promoting. In fact, I’m betting almost all writers are. Most of us have day jobs to pay the bills and families who demand our attention. Those of us lucky enough to be able to write full time learned a long time ago that nine-to-five doesn’t exist for a writer. I downed tools last night at 11:15. Then I thought about what I’d written and what I had to do the next day for another hour before I finally drifted off.

The office hours of a writer involve squeezing out a little more time, just a little more time – all the time. We write on the bus, in the tube, on the train. We write before the other people we live with have gotten out of bed, and we write into the night long after they’ve gone to sleep. Some of us even get up in the middle of the night and write when the Muse nudges us out of our comfy dreams. Some of us write while we’re eating, some of us write while we’re waiting for the dinner to cook, and those of us with Blackberries may very well write in the queue at the grocery store.

With writers, it’s not just office hours that are very flexible and greatly extended whenever possible, but the office
itself is a permeable place. When I’m home, my office is a recliner with a buried stack of nesting tables next to it for tea, books, paper, pens, sandwiches, Blackberry and other essentials. Though I agree whole-heartedly with Virginia Woolf about the need for a room of one’s own, the only room where I can look out and see the birds and admire my veggie garden is the lounge, and the recliner is, well comfy.

Lots of writers write in coffee shops to limit distractions, but since modern bag-lady might best describe my dress for success look, I like to keep the creativity at home whenever possible. Fuzzy slippers and sloppy trainers in a Surrey coffee shop might cause the other clientele unnecessary distress. However in my minds eye, I’m all dressed up in stilettos and a power suit with a sexy pencil skirt. And in my mind’s eye, I actually pull off the look
with grace and aplomb.

Never mind that. My office is very portable and the dress code is very loose. I can write sitting in the grass looking
out over the Downs. I can actually write while I’m walking. Okay, maybe not in the physical sense of writing, but the creative process goes on and on with every step I take. I’ve been known to walk whole stories before my hands ever touch the computer.

Some writers write in the bath, some writers write on the kitchen counter. I read about one young mother who takes a legal pad into the loo and lingers on the throne because the bathroom is her only private place. Extreme writing? Perhaps, but the Muse doesn’t really care about creature comforts or silly physical needs like sleeping and eating. The Muse cares about getting the story down, making it shine, making it the best thing ever put into words. It doesn’t matter where, when or how it happens, but it absolutely MUST happen.

Let’s not forget that life goes on. The shopping has to be done, the house has to get cleaned, meals have to be made, and we do have to make the occasional social appearance so that no one thinks our significant other killed us and buried us in the back garden. (Oh, sorry, that’s another genre.) Some of us are really quite good at pretending to have a normal life. Though most of us are convinced we’re special snowflakes, we can usually pass as ordinary if we have to, and most people will never know the difference. But even when we’re shopping or having dinner with our friends or taking the kids on the school run, we’re really in our office, and we’re really working away planning and scheming and preparing for those unexpected drop-ins of our boss, the Muse, who is actually quite a slave driver -- in a yummy BDSM-ish sense of the word.




INTERVIEWING WADE: An Executive Decision follow up novel (Click Here for Book One | Book Two | Book Three)
The Executive Decisions Trilogy may be over, but the story continues. Intrepid reporter, Carla Flannery, wants to interview Wade Crittenden, the secretive creative genius behind Pneuma Inc. But when, against all odds, Wade actually agrees to the interview, Carla suspects ulterior motives.
Carla has made a lot of enemies in her work and when Wade discovers she’s being stalked, he agrees to the interview to keep her close and safe. As the situation turns deadly, lives and hearts are on the line, and the interview reveals far more about both than either ever expected.

Excerpt Interviewing Wade:
She popped the last of her bacon into her mouth and spoke around it. ‘So tell me, is Fort Flannery as unassailable as my father assured me, or are we in need of an upgrade?’He drained his glass of orange juice and pushed back from the table. ‘Your father did a good job. I didn’t have to do hardly anything.’
‘He’ll be glad to hear that,’ she said. ‘Sorry you had to waste your valuable time in the wee hours. I know how busy you are.’
‘Yes, well, it was on my mind. If you’ll let me see your Android, I’ll give it a little upgrade too.’
‘Will I be able to watch Russian porn on it?’ she asked.
‘Japanese and Chinese porn as well, if you like.’ There was that quirk of a smile that she really would love to eat right off his face.
‘And I’ll assume you’ve given it a test-drive.’
To her delight, the smile didn’t disappear, even though the blush was hot on those chiselled cheeks. ‘I’m my own best guinea pig.’
‘Wade Crittenden, that borders on too much information, but in the interest of consumer protection and all, I thank you.’ The blush grew, but the smile stayed put as she offered him a salute and went into her bedroom to get the device.
She returned to find that he’d shed his hoodie and was filling the sink with soapy water, his broad back mantling the counter like a giant bird of prey. For a second her stomach bottomed at the sight of Wade Crittenden doing dishes at her sink. She stood, Android crushed to her chest, feeling flushed and slightly off-balance. His t-shirt was a loose fit, misshapen and short in the back from too many washings for something that should have migrated to the rag drawer some time ago, and when he reached across the sink to add still more soap, the shirt rode up to reveal the slim line of his back and the muscles where his hips joined his torso just above the swell of his buttocks. The baggy jeans gave enough of an intimation of that swelling to leave Carla breathless and hot enough to want to throw off her own hoodie and splash herself with the soapy water in which he was nearly elbow-deep.
As though he sensed her watching, he turned, slopped water down the front of his shirt and onto his jeans and uttered a surprised curse.
Without thinking she rushed to his side, dropping the device on the table. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ she managed, in a breathless gasp. ‘Sometimes I go for weeks without ever washing so much as a coffee cup.’ She stretched around him, grabbed for a dish towel and offered it to him instead of patting him dry herself, which was what she really wanted to do.
He reached for the towel, holding her gaze. ‘You cook for me, I do the clean-up for you. Fair’s fair.’ His hand slid into the cloth and around her fingers as he drew it to his chest. His breath caught, his lips parted as though to speak, and God help her, she couldn’t resist, she leaned into him on tippy-toe and planted a kiss firmly on his mouth. She only meant for it to be a friendly peck, a way of saying thanks for checking up on her and for doing the dishes, but his other hand, covered with soapy water, swooped in and grabbed the front of her hoodie reeling her to him. Then he curled his fingers in the tangle of her wild hair and cradled the back of her head, pulling her still further up on her toes. ‘Oh God,’ he whispered, his tongue darting deep, his lips, soft and hard and bruising all at the same time, meeting hers in a clash of wills and a heroic effort to get closer and deeper. ‘Oh God, Carla, why did you do that,’ he gasped against her mouth.
‘Just being friendly,’ she managed, before the tongue sparring got serious. He gave the towel a toss and yanked down the zipper of her hoodie, shoving it off onto the floor, his hands skimming her breasts in his efforts, thumbs lingering to rake her nipples that were already painful in their peaking. His jeans might have been loose, but they were not loose enough to disguise his erection, and he didn’t seem to care. Both hands slid to cup her bottom and he lifted her, settling her onto the kitchen table, pushing her legs apart with his knees and moving in between her thighs as she went to work on his fly.
‘I have lots of friends,’ he breathed. ‘None of them do that to me.’
‘How about this,’ she said biting his lower lip and sliding her hand down inside his boxers. ‘Do they do this?’
‘No,’ he returned the nip. ‘Never, none of them.’ For a second he faltered. ‘Carla, I –’
‘Shut up, Wade. I don’t wanna hear it.’ This time she bit his tongue before she took his hand and guided it down into her baggy sweat bottoms and into her own boxers.
Available from:
Reviews:
“Take one part of tall, dark and reclusive millionaire who likes to go bowling alone on Monday mornings, stir in another part in-your-face intrepid female reporter who never gives up until she gets her story and shake it up with a killer who has a score or two to settle. The result is a steamy and suspenseful tale that takes you on a fast-paced ride and keeps you turning the pages. The suspense is well done and really kept my interest. The book is easy to recommend. You won’t want to put it down. Go and grab your copy.” 4.5 out of 5, Love Bites and Silk Ties
“The story is well paced, with only inklings of the stalker’s identity showing up, after all kinds of computer searching, and old-fashioned footwork. The climax is shivery scary, and I couldn’t put it down.” 5 out of 5, Manic Readers


Monday, 14 September 2015

Special Guest- Peter Birch: First Spankings and a Note of Nostalgia for the Bad Old Days

It's Kay here, and I'm delighted to be able to welcome Peter Birch to the Brit Babes site today. Peter is talking spanking and wallowing in a little naughty nostalgia! If spanking is not your thing- then look away now...
xxxx
 
First Spankings and a Note of Nostalgia for the Bad Old Days

 
Do you remember your first experience of erotic spanking? That is if you have one, but if you’re reading this blog then the chances of that are pretty high. If you’re less than forty or so then the chances are also pretty high that your experience either came about through the internet or from attending a club dedicated to kinky behaviour. I hope it was a pleasant and memorable experience, and I hope it was the first of many. Unless you’re as cool as a dozen iced cucumbers it was probably also a pretty intense experience and the culmination of a lot of desire. What it wasn’t was tough, because you had it easy, very easy.

            Okay, so maybe you’re one of these people you never takes the obvious route. Maybe you managed to torment some crazed disciplinarian into dealing with you in public and got it bare bottom in front of a thousand assorted tourists. Maybe you live in Antarctica and got flippered by a huddle of indignant emperor penguins. Maybe not. The chances are that you simply hooked up with somebody whose tastes mirrored your own and after a little negotiation either got your bottom smacked or smacked theirs, according to taste.

            When I were a lad... Seriously though, getting what you need in the way of kink has become far easier over the years, and while that can only be a good thing it does have one or two drawbacks. Those of us who did it the hard way will talk about how much more exciting it all was and how easy access to pleasure robs it of any real power, but that’s mainly hot air, especially when so many men got what they wanted by paying for it, which I regard as cheating. My objection is rather different, and it’s that when you’re trying to write a book on people’s first experiences of erotic spanking it really doesn’t help when 90% of the people you talk to start off with a variation on “Oh, yeah, I met this guy/girl on the net and...”
 


            It just won’t do. When I was doing my research for First Spankings: True Spanking Initiations, it rapidly became a curse. Sure, there were some pretty exciting accounts and some amusing details, such as one account from a star of erotic publishing who had better remain nameless. She had agreed to accept her virgin spanking from a man she’d contacted on the net and then met in a hotel, the usual story, but his first act of dominance was to order her to go to the loos, remove her knickers and bring them back to him. Only when she had obeyed this instruction did she realise that her pretty designer lingerie came with a label bearing the legend “XL”. Not wishing to be seen as the sort of woman who needs extra-large knickers she attempted to remove the offending label, with her teeth. This worked, eventually, but left the knickers torn and soggy as she handed them over to her new man.

            That one went in the book, but as I continued to back my playmates and fellow spanking enthusiasts into corners, get them drunk or, if necessary, sit on them, I began to realise that my book was likely to end up being pretty repetitive, however erotic. Again and again I had to leave out otherwise excellent accounts on the grounds that they were just too similar to what I already had, but I was also getting some true gems, almost exclusively from the older generations. For obvious reasons I was only including experiences between consenting adults, which meant my accounts came from those who’d overcome all the difficulties in communication and the social stigma of admitting to taking pleasure in spanking. They were great.

            I’ve always been an arrogant little bastard completely detached from reality very liberal minded, so my own experiences from the late ‘seventies don’t really reflect the norm. It never occurred to me that a girlfriend might enjoy sex but not enjoy being spanked, so I never had any difficulty introducing spanking into my own relationships. For others it wasn’t so straightforward, even super-confident spanking queen Lucy Bailey. In her own words, from her interview –

I was always interested in being submissive from a very young age and was drawn towards spanking and bondage. Unlike men I'd never seen a porn magazine and there was no world wide web back then so I had no idea that anyone else shared my desires. My fantasies all stemmed from romantic fiction stories like Wuthering Heights and The Arabian Nights, only in my versions the heroines always ended up getting a spanking.  At the age of about nineteen I saw an ad in Loot magazine to join a Spanking Club. It was called The Moonglow Club. So I rang up and went to an interview with a gentleman named George.”

“You say that so casually. Most of the women I’ve interviewed wouldn’t have dared, especially not at nineteen.”

“I wanted a spanking.”

“Fair enough. So you joined The Moonglow Club? I remember the Moonglow videos you did, especially the one in a cricket club. I think you were wearing a maid’s uniform, but I do remember he spent ages spanking you on the seat of your panties before pulling them down. That was the best stripping I’d seen at the time, so he obviously knew what he was doing.”

“He did, believe me, but I didn’t. The interview was mainly to make sure I wasn’t from the press, I think, and he didn’t spank me, although I’d half been hoping he would, but I was  invited along to their next event. It was at a house in South London. I turned up and was ushered into a room with three other girls. We sat waiting and talking, and that was the first time I’d spoken to other girls who liked to be spanked, and had been. You can imagine how I felt!”

“Knowing you, keen.”

“Yes, I suppose so, but I was nervous too. That was mainly because we were called in one by one and I was last. I watched each girl go out through that door. I heard the talking and the men laughing, then the smacks and her cries as she had her bottom smacked. Then she’d come out looking flushed and show us her red bum. I was just about wetting myself when my turn came, but it was as if I was on automatic.”

“What were you wearing, school uniform?”

“Yes, only not the one you like with the little tartan skirt and white panties. George had said I’d make a good schoolgirl, but I didn’t have much money and I didn’t even know where to go to buy a sexy schoolgirl outfit. So I turned up in what I’d been wearing the year before in sixth form.”

“The real thing?”

“Yes, and I know you’d like the details. A white blouse with my tie half undone like a St Trinian’s girl, a knee length pleated skirt, black shoes, white socks and big, bottle green panties.”

“I bet that went down well.”

“It did. When I walked in I swear some of the men actually looked guilty. Shifty anyway, but like I said I was on automatic. I can’t even remember which man did it, just the way he stuck his knees out to make a lap and patted his leg. Down I went, OTK for the first time in my life, and everything seemed to be in slow motion as he turned my school skirt up and began to spank me through my panties. It hurt, but I was in heaven. I could feel every smack and the way my bum was growing warmer, something I’d dreamt about so often but never experienced. It was the same with having my panties pulled down. I’d imagined the moment so many times, but actually to have a man do it to me was mind blowing, just to feel myself going bare and to know I was showing everything to all those men, but I don’t remember who they were, not one of them. Not that it matters. What mattered was the spanking, my first.”

“But not your last.”

“Not by a long way, not even that night. After our initial spankings me and the other girls were brought out individually and together to play out little scenarios and get punished both by the men and by each other, so my second ever spanking was from another girl. That went on for ages, and my bum got so hot that every time I was sent back to the waiting room I’d pull down my panties and stand with my cheeks pressed against the cold metal of an iron filing cabinet to try and cool them down. There was also a part where we were handed around the audience to be spanked over the knee by each person, and the event ended with us all lined up and severely caned.”

“And you took it all, because you wanted it, or because you were being paid and you felt you had to?”

“Because I wanted it, but that’s the funny part. I know this sounds really naive, but I didn’t realise I was being paid. After the party was over George gave me an envelope with money in it, which was the last thing I was expecting, because I didn’t just not realise that I was being paid for my services. I thought I’d have to pay him!”

“I’d have charged you.”

“I bet you wouldn’t, but I wouldn’t have minded. It was so exhilarating, especially having a red hot bottom on the way home, and I was dripping down my legs with sexual excitement. I remember even the motion of the car on the way back was almost bringing me to orgasm and I knew I had to come or I was most likely going to crash. It was about three o’clock in the morning, so I turned into a side road and stopped. It was just some suburban street, but that made it even better as I turned my panties down and sat my hot bottom on the seat so I could remember how it had felt to be bare while I was spanked. I played with myself until I’d come at least three times and had to drive all the way back sitting in a wet patch. There was lots more masturbation for some time afterwards, because every time I thought of what had happened I wanted to come. So that was my first spanking and it’s totally true.”

“From you, I don’t doubt it for a moment, but I think you have another important first.”

“I do?”

“Yes. Do you remember the pony-girl club piece we did for Eurotrash?”

“When I stuck the tail up my bum? Yes.”

“That’s the one, but I gave you a warm up spanking first, didn’t I?”

“Yes. You were in your red hunting coat and that ridiculous wig that looked as if you’d got a guinea pig sitting on your head.”

“Never mind the wig. That was a mistake. I spanked you, and the crew filmed it and showed you getting your spanking. You were in a PVC miniskirt and hold-up stockings, no knickers.”

“If you say so.”

“I have a photograph to prove it, taken from the rudest possible angle. The film crew didn’t get such a rude view, but they did film you getting your spanking and they did show it. That was May of ‘ninety-five, and it was shown a few weeks later, so unless I’m very much mistaken that means that you were the first girl ever to be spanked for pleasure on British TV, as opposed to an actress getting it. In fact I think it was a double first, because you stuck the plug of the tail up your bum and I think that was the first real anal penetration shown on British TV. You’re a star.”

Lucy’s experience would have been in the early ‘nineties, and she is far bolder than most people. It takes guts though, even now, but the further back you go the more courage it took, and the more sheer need. This account from spanking enthusiast and fellow author Phil Kemp dates from the ‘sixties and is a true classic –

I’m pleased to say that the first spanking I ever gave was also her first, and it was a proper, bare bottom, over the knee spanking, not just a few pats on the seat of a girl’s jeans. She was my cousin. That’s acceptable is it, for the book?”

“Don’t worry. I spanked my cousin too, and she’s going in. I expect it happens quite a lot.”

“You’re probably right, for sex anyway. After all, we all need somebody to experiment with. Mine was called Jenny, and she was the youngest of three girls, much the prettiest too. I used to go there every summer, to my uncle’s place in the country. Jenny was a couple of years younger than me; been playmates since we were children, but as she matured I couldn’t help but notice what a lovely, spankable little bottom she had.”

“So you were keen to do it from the first?”

“Very keen. I’ve always liked spanking. After all, it’s what girls’ bottoms are for.”

“I can go along with that, a design classic I’d say.”

“Exactly, why else would they be so well padded? Jenny certainly was, slim but with the plumpest little bottom you can possibly imagine, and perfectly rounded. I might not have dared to spank her though, had it not been for what happened one morning at breakfast. Her sisters were quite a bit older than her, and still used to treat her as a child, especially Monica, the eldest. Jenny was being difficult, first saying she wanted eggs and then changing her mind when the pan was already boiling and pinching a piece of Monica’s toast. She was grinning at me as she spread butter and honey on it, and I shared the joke, grinning back, until Monica turned around. She was not happy about it, and told Jenny flatly to grow up before turning back to the cooker. Jenny immediately pinched the second piece of toast, but Monica had been expecting that and turned back immediately. She was genuinely cross, and she shouted at Jenny, calling her a little brat, but when Jenny answered her back she said something I’ll never forget if I live to be a hundred - ‘If you’re going to behave like a child, then I’ll treat you like a child. Come here’. Jenny knew exactly what Monica meant, and she let out a squeal like a steam train as she realised she was going to be spanked, and in front of me. She let Monica do it though, really quite meek as she went over her sister’s knee for twenty swats on the seat of her pyjamas. Maybe she knew she’d get it anyway and didn’t want to make an exhibition of herself, or maybe she thought that if she put up a fight she might get her pyjama trousers pulled down, I don’t know, but she took it, about twenty hard swats. Her face was bright red afterwards, and I was imagining her bum the same colour. But the thing was, the moment Monica’s back was turned Jenny was grinning at me again, deeply embarrassed, but still grinning. ”

“Maybe she goaded Monica into spanking her on purpose?”

“Looking back, she probably did. At the time I was just grateful that I had a napkin to conceal my raging erection. Not surprisingly I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, and just to watch the way Jenny’s bottom moved under her jeans made my fingers itch with the desire to give her the same treatment her sister had.”

“I know exactly how you felt.”

“I still didn’t dare, although we were together most of the time. A couple of days after the spanking we went up to the attic, to fetch something, I think, but we ended up rummaging around. I found a box full of the old penny dreadful novels and started to read one. Jenny got bored and sneaked up behind me with a moth-eaten old feather boa and rubbed it in my face. I wasn’t expecting it at all, and I got a mouthful of mouldy old feathers and dust and cobwebs. She was laughing at me, and I must have looked a sight, but she seemed to be nervous too, with one hand half over her mouth as if she was scared of my reaction. Suddenly I had my excuse. I had to do it, if it was the last thing I did, so I grabbed her and sat down on the box, hauling her across my knee. She knew exactly what was going to happen and was struggling like anything and threatening me, but she couldn’t stop giggling either so I didn’t let up. I was determined to get her jeans down too, because I’d thought about doing it so often and because otherwise it wouldn’t have seemed like a proper spanking, and she fought like anything to stop me getting at the button under her tummy. I wouldn’t have had the guts to take her knickers down, but her jeans were so tight they came down anyway, and all of a sudden I had her sweet little bottom bare in front of me. It was the first time I’d had a girl’s bum nude, let alone nude over my lap and ready for spanking. She was still giggling too, and obviously didn’t mind having her jeans and knickers down in front of me all that much, so I began to spank. I still remember how her bum felt, soft and firm all at the same time, and the way her cheeks bounced as I smacked them, and kept parting to show a little puff of hair between. I was in heaven.”

“I can imagine.”

“I wanted to spank her properly, the way her sister had done, but as I started to make the smacks harder she began to protest, calling me a beast and wriggling about on my lap. I didn’t stop, because I rather liked being called a beast and her wriggling was making the show she was giving of her bare bum even ruder. Besides, I still hadn’t managed to get all the muck out of my mouth and I felt she deserved what she was getting. So I carried on until her bottom was a lovely shade of warm red, and by then I’d realised that this was something I wanted to do... no, something I had to do. I’d always wanted to do it. When she started to cry I finally took pity on her and let her up. She was still calling me a beast, as she stood there rubbing her bottom and trying to inspect her cheeks by the dim light from the attic windows, but she didn’t bother to pull up her jeans and knickers, despite being bare right in front of me. Maybe it was just that I’d seen it all anyway, because girls are often like that, but although she kept calling me a beast she definitely had mixed feelings about her spanking. Over the next few weeks she was constantly goading me, angling for more spankings, which she got, several times, and at the very end of my stay she admitted she liked it and said something really sweet, that she liked to be spanked by me instead of her sisters, because they only did it when they were angry, but I did it because I liked her.”

 
A few eyebrows might have been raised by Phil’s story. A spanking from a girl’s big sister? And what about consent? These are fair points, and in today’s environment a lot of publishers wouldn’t accept the piece as fiction, but what matters to me is that everybody seems to have got what they wanted, which is why I accepted the account. Besides, it’s supremely arrogant to judge people and events fifty years past by contemporary standards. Back then if you wanted a spanking, or wanted to dish out a spanking, it almost certainly wasn’t something you could admit to, a fact perfectly illustrated by my final example. I have no guarantee that the following account is authentic, but it was presented to me as such. It came in a long, hand-written letter from the mother of another interviewee after her daughter had told her about the book and is supposed to have taken place in the late ‘thirties. Judge for yourself -

“I would like my experience to be included in your book. Before I start you need to understand how I feel about spanking. For me it was simple something that happened, a part of life. I had no frame of reference against which to compare my experiences. There were no books on the subject, certainly not that I had access too. As for the internet, no such thing had so much as been imagined. Nowadays it is very different. I didn’t even feel the guilt that marks ------‘s account of her own first spanking. For me, being spanked was part of everyday life. I saw it as the consequence of my behaviour, neither more nor less. If I misbehaved there was a possibility that I would be spanked, as simple as that. That was acceptable and that was what I understood. What I did not understand was my reaction to the thought of being spanked. In this liberated, informed age this may seem difficult to believe, but I didn’t even understand the idea of sexual arousal. Nobody had taught me anything, save that I was expected to submit myself to my husband in some intimate but mysterious way. He would know what to do, I was told and I found the thought immensely appealing. I also expected him to spank me and that thought was also immensely appealing, although I could not truly have explained why. I did know that my feelings were connected with the warm, luxurious sensations I enjoyed every time I thought about him spanking me.

“I now know all about endorphins and the way spanking stimulates the genitals, but at the time I’m not sure that the medical profession understood such things, and if they did the information was not about to be made available to a respectable young lady living in rural Devon. All I knew was that the thought of being spanked gave me the most delightful feelings. First there would be pain, alongside the feelings of indignity and contrition that went with having my bottom laid bare, but the pleasure that came with that far outweighed the bad feelings. I came to crave spanking.

“I needed somebody who would spank me, but I had no immediate prospect of marriage and it never occurred to me to ask for a spanking from one of the young men I knew, especially as I didn’t consider any of them suitable husband material. It would have been scandalous, especially as having my bottom laid bare was an important part of what for me had become a ritual. I’d have much rather asked one of my friends to spank me and I did consider the notion, only to reject it as impossibly embarrassing. You have to understand that while it was perfectly normal for a young woman to be spanked, the idea of a young woman asking to be spanked was an impossible outrage. I would have to give somebody an excuse to punish me.

“Had I had any sense at all, or patience, I would have waited until I was married, and when I eventually did get married I used to be spanked regularly, usually on a Sunday after church. At the time that was still over a year away and I had no idea what the future would bring. Instead I took to trespassing on Mr S-----‘s land, a shortcut between my house and the village. Mr S----- was an elderly, mean and above all bad tempered farmer. Being on his land filled me with apprehension, but also desire, because he’d twice threatened me with spanking when I was a little girl. Sure enough, he caught me, and he threatened me again, but he didn’t do it, which left me in a state of frustration I’d never known before but which was to get worse. I was more scared than ever, but I had to go on, and the next time he caught me and threatened to – ‘give me the hiding I deserved’ - I told him he wouldn’t dare.

“I thought that would make him do it, and I could see he wanted to, but somehow he held his temper in check. All I could do was try again, but not only did I continue to cross his land but I took to scrumping apples from his orchard. The next time he caught me I had my dress held up to carry a dozen or more of his best apples, only things hadn’t quite gone to plan. He wasn’t alone. His son was with him, a big, strapping lad a couple of years younger than me whose invitation to a local dance I’d turned down only the week before.

“Maybe it was because his son was there and he couldn’t be seen to back down. Maybe he’d just had enough of my behaviour, but this time he didn’t even threaten. He just told me what was going to happen, that I was going to get a spanking, then and there. I froze, unable to move or resist him in any way, although I was complaining bitterly about my treatment as he grabbed me and bundled me across his knee. My dress was already half up because of the way I’d been carrying the apples, which were now all over the ground, and as he caught hold of the hem I remember how extraordinarily strong my feelings were. The idea of having my bottom laid bare, and in front of Lias, who was standing there gaping like a goldfish, was absolutely unbearable and at one and the same time perfectly desirable. I’d never felt such deep shame, nor such excitement.

“Not that it made the slightest difference what I felt. My dress came up and my drawers were pulled open with two swift motions and there I was, the way I’d imagined myself so often, laid bare bottomed over a man’s knee and about to be spanked. I couldn’t imagine how I could possibly have been stupid enough to let myself get into that situation, especially when he began to spank me, because it hurt like anything, but at the same time I was in Heaven. Just knowing he had my bottom bare made me feel faint and the pain of the spanking robbed me of whatever resistance I might have had left. He spanked me long and hard, but the worst of it, and the best, was being bare in front of Lias, who I’d rejected. He was obviously enjoying the view as well, and after he’d seen me like that, what was I to do? We were married less than a year later, the following June.”
 


So there we have it. Yes, there were drawbacks, there were issues, and yes, things are far better today, but I for one cannot help but feel a note of nostalgia for the bad old days.
Peter.

****
Information about Peter Birch can be found at-
 
 
****
 
 
Phew!! Thanks Peter.
I hope you aren't all wriggling in your seats too much after reading that. If you'll excuse me, I have some spanking smut to compose...
Kay xxxx

 

Monday, 7 September 2015

Love Yourself: A Guest Interview with Zoe Webber.

It's Kay here, and I am pleased to be able to welcome Zoe Webber to the Brit Babes site today. Zoe is joint director of the sex toy and lingerie company, Love Yourself. Recently Zoe very bravely agreed to let the Brit Babes Street Team interview her. Over to you Zoe...
 
About Us - although we feel it’s not really about us it’s about YOU!

We want everyone to realise there is no need to be shy and embarrassed around the products we sell. We want you to feel totally at ease in your shopping experience with ourselves. We sell these products because we know from personal experience, life can take over in many ways and people’s sex lives can become quite frankly boring, monotonous and sometimes fizzle out completely. Even the most active and healthy of sex lives can be spiced up and improved. 
 
http://www.loveyourselfonline.co.uk/
 

In late 2013 we started to think of way we could make our lives easier and enjoy our work, we had a small business supplying Road sweeping Lorries, work was slow and we were worried about what the future may hold, so we decided we would start Love Yourself Online. And, by We I mean myself and Andy my partner. Andy and I are not some sex mad weirdos like you may be thinking, we are just your average normal hard working family and friend orientated couple (if normal is a real way to measure someone). We live in the country in a little village and have 5 children which are all girls! As well and the dog, the cat and the chickens. The Tribe! We aren’t married not of any other reason than we never really got round to it, but isn’t that the way of the world now. When I say we are not some sort of sex mad couple we have sex like every couple and we have learnt looking into different avenues and using different product can only greaten the intimate time you have together. We’re not saying a relationship without sex won’t work but sex defiantly strengthens and connect you in different ways. Can we help you strengthen your relationship?

We believe you may be daunted or unsure when purchasing a product from ourselves, you may not know exactly what you want or need, if you have questions or don’t understand something just Ask! We are here to help you make an informed decision on the product which is right for you or you and your partner.
 
 

Interview with the Brit Babe Street Team

What does she think of FSOG and has it changed people's buying habits at all? Does she read erotica/erotic romance?

I think Fifty Shades of Grey has definitely changed people’s attitudes to purchasing sexual products, people are now much more open about discussing the whole issue. As well as people who may have never thought about trying new things have a comfort in the fact that everyone else is doing it so it okay even if they don’t want to discuss it openly.

What would be her top tip for a fun sex life?

I think the best tip of a fun happy sex life is to discuss with you partner involved all your ideas and desires, that way you all know where you stand and can make things fun for you both. There has to be a good understand on both parts. As well as use lots of lube : )

If she could only have one sex toy for all of time what would it be?

If I personally could only have one sex toy I would choose my trusty rabbit vibrator (as boring as it sounds). Although one of my toys from the Rocks off Range would be following closely behind as the have some amazing couples cock rings which have built in bullets for stimulation for both parties involved.

What's the most unexpected question she's ever been asked about a toy?

There are lots of weird and wonderful questions I’ve been asked in the past, I love it when I do an event of some sort and you can just see someone looking and thinking can I really ask that? And then you get other that just come straight out with it. A lady recently did make me chuckle as her main concern when purchasing a corset was “How the hell am I going to wash that?” as her partner was stood there telling her how good she would look in it. 



Do you have product testers?

We do have some product testers but we are always looking for more to get different opinions, as well as guest blogs and peoples experiences, if you want to get involved please contact me at zoe@loveyourselfonline.com.

What is your bestselling toy/item of lingerie?

Recently we travelled in to Manchester for Sexhibition at Event City which was an amazing event. It amazed me that such a large amount of people were only interested in basic Anal Beads, we sold out within the first day. Defiantly a line to take for Sexhibition 2016.

Do friends ask you for recommendations?

I think some of my friends don’t know quite how to take what I do especially when I talk so openly about anything to do with sex. One of my closest friends is constantly amazed by the products she see at our warehouse, there are lots of questions “what the hell do you do with that?” “How does that work?” followed by “So if …. “. I think she enjoys popping in just for a giggle really.  

****
Thanks you so much for agreeing to take part in our interview Zoe. Don't forget to check out the LoveYourself web site- there are some truly delicious items available.
Enjoy!
Kay xx