Tag Archives: Kink

How to write erotic flash fiction and turn readers on in a few pages

17 Feb

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

I’m a sucker for a good short story. I always have been, which is perhaps why I’ve made a career out of editing short story anthologies, but I’ve come to appreciate the genre anew by compiling three books of erotic flash fiction: Gotta Have It: 69 Stories of Sudden Sex, The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories and The Big Book of Submission: 69 Kinky Tales. Yes, the number 69 is a cheeky reference, but also rounds out these collections in a beautiful way, allowing room for plenty of variety.

Before I delve into why I love these super short tales so much, I want to let all you writers out there now that I’m looking for the last few ultra hot, creative and brilliant BDSM erotica stories to include in The Big Book of Submission, Volume 2, to be published in 2018 by Cleis Press. Get all the details in the call for submissions and send your stories in by February 28, 2017. Yes, I know that’s around the corner, but at only 1,200 words or less, writing one can be done in a day.

The Big Book of Submission: 69 Kinky Tales

The Big Book of Submission: 69 Kinky Tales

So what do I love about these books? As an editor, I selfishly love that I get to say yes to 69 authors, since sending rejections is the part of the job I hate the most. As a reader, I relish seeing just how playful writers can be with such a limited word count. And as a person with ADD, I love that I can read one of these stories in just a few minutes, making them perfect for our often overbooked and overly busy culture.

Some people might see the words “1,200 words or less” and think, That’s nothing more than a sex scene. Au contraire! What’s been extraordinary to me is seeing just how much passion, heart and soul these authors have imbued into their relatively small amount of words. They’ve created stories that are rich with gorgeous imagery and eroticism, the kinds of stories I reread often. One of my favorites is “Housebroken” by Laila Blake, from The Big Book of Submission, about a special kind of roleplay. Here’s a snippet:

The tiny bell on her kitten-collar chimed whenever she moved her head a little this way or that, sparkling like her pink lips with their ubiquitous honey-scented gloss. All of her seemed to glow as she lay there ivory-pink, her knees pulled up in a shallow angle, leaning against each other, her toes wriggling a little. She never did lie completely still—for that she needed ropes and cuffs, commands and punishments. For the moment, though, Imani allowed it, smiling at her kitten’s antics and the way, in her apartment, her kitten could let go completely, with no care in the world but Imani’s pleasure and her own, attaining the purest sense of freedom humans could find.

Yes, in her limited space, Blake takes readers inside an intimate, loving lesbian BDSM relationship and helps bring their roleplaying to life.

The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories

The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories

One of my favorite stories I’ve ever published is the humorous yet thought-provoking gender changing tale “Remote Control” by Logan Zachary in The Big Book of Orgasms. Using the hilarious premise that the title device can change everything from the weather to one’s genitals, Zachary presents a couple who transform themselves inside and out, with fascinating results. You can listen to the whole story on The Kiss Me Quick’s Podcast—I dare you to do so and not wonder what you yourself would do with such a remote in the palm of your hand! Not only is this story sexy and funny, it also manages to slyly comment on gender and sexual orientation.

What the writers who are successful at these sexy flash fiction stories know is that economy of language can indeed be hot, because it forces you to truly say what you mean and imbue every single word with as much power as possible. You can focus on the heart of what makes a relationship or sex act or scene so arousing, cutting out all extraneous distractions. Honing in on what’s vital can help authors see what makes the story tick and force them to value each thought, each touch, each movement as it builds to something greater than the sum of its parts. For the reader, the payoff is that they can get completely sucked into a story, knowing they can fully savor it in the time it takes to enjoy a morning cup of coffee.

Gotta Have It: 69 Stories of Sudden Sex

Gotta Have It: 69 Stories of Sudden Sex

These tales capture the complexity of trying something new in bed, and instead of jumping straight into the screwing, they still take the time to make imbue realism into the equation. In “Anal-yzed” by Donna George Storey from Gotta Have It, she tackles the negotiation between a couple about exploring anal sex, covering a woman’s doubts, fears and uncertainties while still maintaining the heat level:

“Interesting. I have another theory, though.” As he said this, his finger dipped between my asscheeks to stroke my tender pink valley.

I shivered and arched up into his touch. “Theory?”

“Yes, that anal sex is an unnatural act, so it makes you feel like a dirty slut to do it.”

My muscles down there—belly, cunt, asshole—immediately went into spasm, prickles of shame mixed with sweet twinges of pleasure. He was right. It was a turn-on to be a naughty girl who let boys in the back door. But I suddenly realized something else too. Having him talk about fucking my ass—actually analyze it like this—was making me incredibly hot.

Yes, within the confines of her 1,200 word maximum, Storey takes a common sexual fantasy, deconstructs it and does it justice as the narrator and her partner find out just how they can make this fantasy come true. She doesn’t waste any words, but she doesn’t rush the action either.

For those who prefer watching a sex scene unfold, here’s me reading my face slapping erotica story “Manners” from Gotta Have It several years ago at erotic shop Coco De Mer in West Hollywood, a topic I enjoyed distilling into a few racy pages:

To play devil’s advocate, I know that for those who solely read and write novels, the idea of even attempting to narrow down a short story into the confines of flash fiction is anathema. The biggest complaint I get from readers is that these stories are too short, that just as they get started, they’re over. On that point, I agree; however, I see their shortness as their strength, their beauty, their brilliance, and if they leave you wanting to know more about these characters, I consider that a win. So if you’re pressed for time, have a limited attention span like me, or simply want a huge amount of variety in the palm of your hands, check out these flash fiction books, and perhaps they’ll even inspire you to write one of your own.

Rachel Kramer Bussel (rachelkramerbussel.com) has edited over 60 anthologies, including Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 1, Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica, Begging for It, Fast Girls, The Big Book of Orgasms and more. She writes widely about sex, dating, books and pop culture and teaches erotica writing classes around the country and online. Follow her @raquelita on Twitter and find out more about her classes and consulting at eroticawriting101.com.

We’re All Kinky Monsters. Yes, We Are.

22 Jul

By Elizabeth SaFleur

I have no frickin’ idea how to start this post, except to tell you the truth. I was minding my own Internet business doing research when I came across  this Psychology Today blog post talking about how fetishes aren’t so, well, fetish-y anymore. It’s a fascinating short read in which I learned in some parts of Japan you can find vending machines that sell used school girl panties. Ya know, to satisfy that on-the-go panty fetish urge.

giphy (2)

But after reading said post, a question arose. Are there any sexual taboos left? Any more sexual proclivities one wishes to keep secret? Like not out in public via vending machine where anyone with a phone can snap a pix of you burying your snoz in a girl’s thong?

Let us review. A decade (or two) ago, being gay was considered scandalous. Five years ago (okay, maybe ten), most people were aghast at BDSM. The Fifty Shades phenomenon cured that last one — sort of. So now? I ask, in my best Carrie Bradshaw voice, are there any sexual activities left that cause scandal? Or have we all woken up to the fact we’re all kinky monsters at heart?


According to Psychology Today, fetishism is “sexual attraction to objects, situations, or body parts not traditionally viewed as sexual.” This definition did not help at all in discovering who might fall into the kinky camp.  I turned to the diagnostic criteria for 302.81, a.k.a Fetishism, from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition, Text Revision, Copyright 2000, by the American Psychiatric Association. (We at Ladysmut like to be all official-like with our references.)

Criteria, by the Big Bad-Ass Psychology Community, for being a fetishist:

  1. Over a period of at least 6 months, recurrent, intense sexually arousing fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors involving the use of nonliving objects (e.g., female undergarments).

Does a vibrator count? Because that pretty much puts most of the female population on this list.

  1. The fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors cause clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.

Well, that depends. Define impairment. Like think about it all the time? Wouldn’t that put most males between the age of 12 and, oh, 70 in that category because they have sex on the brain?

  1. The fetish objects are not limited to articles of female clothing used in cross-dressing (as in Transvestic Fetishism) or devices designed for the purpose of tactile genital stimulation (e.g., a vibrator).

So, I guess dressing up as a woman if you’re a man and using a vibrator isn’t a fetish? And if I’m a woman who worships her vibrator like the God-given-best-thing-man-ever-invented-since-fire miracle that it is,  I’m off the hook, too? But if I throw in some stuffed animals (plushophilia) or other objects, I’m a deviant? What about foot fetishes (podophilia)? They’re human (partly) and not an object. (I’m not gonna lie to you, I want to do Alexander Skarsgard’s abs as seen in Tarzan like nobody’s business.)

Further research only confuses things. You  can find reams of studies that show kinky sexual fantasies are super common, how some kinks (such as cuckolding) are growing in popularity, and  how even the Big Bad-Ass Psychology Community has been re-assessing its viewpoints on BDSM (not considered a kink by many, but close enough for our purposes).

giphy (4)

Bottom line, there seems to be a growing acceptance that if something turns you on and you’re not hurting anyone (including yourself), have at it. Okay, then. Carpe the fucking diem out of that turn-on.

Yet perhaps something even more important is going on. We’re growing to become more of who we really are and not society’s version of who you should be?  Sorry for the Dr. Phil moment. But, really, addressing your desires, even the dark scary ones that some Big Bad Ass Psychology Community has deemed “not normal” can be empowering and healthy (once again provided it’s safe, sane and consensual). In fact, many new studies have shown people who engage in BDSM are happier and healthier than most people. Why? Because they’re being themselves.

Psst. In case you’re absolutely convinced you’re 100 percent vanilla, I don’t want to burst your bubble. But if you are turned on by hot men (or women) pictures you might fall into pygophilia, the love of buttocks. Or, perhaps you love muscles? You have sthenolagnia. Sicko. Then, of course, most males would fall into having mazophilia, which is worshiping breasts. Geez, get out the straight jackets.

Personally, I think we should all adopt erotophilia: Positive attitude to sexuality (opposed to erotophobia). Here, let us help:


Follow Ladysmut. We don’t mind if you’re kinky. We love eeeeeverybody.

Speaking of which, check out Rachel Kramer Bussel’s latest anthology, Begging For It.

What would you give — or give up — to fulfill your most cherished sex fantasy? In this Cleis Press collection, erotica editor Rachel brings us femme fatales and shy women, women on a mission and women opening up to new worlds of discovery: women who know what they want and are not afraid to beg for it! Let yourself go with these 20 tantalizing tales of tortuous longing and release.


Elizabeth SaFleur writes contemporary erotic romance and she’s not afraid to get a little graphic about it  — “it” being the smex, the BDSM or Washington, DC society, which she regularly features in her series, the Elite Doms of Washington. She also is super proud of her erotophilia and sthenolagnia.

Doing Whatever He Wants – And Loving It

29 Jun

By Elizabeth Shore

Yesterday our own Alexa Day – whose story Passing Through is part of the fabulous new naughty military release Hero to Obey that we’re celebrating this week – wrote a great piece on the idea of Femdom, i.e., flipping the tables on the traditional concept of woman as submissive. With femdom, of course, she’s the one in charge, and as Alexa smartly points out, this gives us, “a take-charge heroine [who] drives her own sexual journey, and I’m all about seeing her partner treating her with the deference reserved for royalty.” Yepper. I’m on board with that, too. But still and all, in my hot fantasies, being the submissive is still where it’s at. Yet, why??

In Alexa’s post yesterday she pointed out that one reason submission in romance is so popular is because it appeals to the side of women who may have wild sexual desires but who are reticent to explore them without direction. A dominant male telling a woman to roleplay her fantasies removes any guilt she may have about the fantasy. She can’t be scorned, after all, for crawling across the floor like a kitten since she’s just doing what she was told. The burden of having to justify her behavior, even if only in her own mind, is removed when the behavior is dictated by someone else.

I think there’s certainly some truth to that, but that explanation alone still doesn’t entirely satisfy. So I set out to find intel on what strong women who like being dominated – the so-called tough on the streets, submissive in the sheets – had to say about it. Here are a few quotes from a post on thoughtcatalogue.com.

“Women are raised to act pure and chaste and I find that disgusting. Being his little sex slave is my way of rebelling against a society that tries to oppress female sexuality.”

“I like to be manhandled, mastered and degraded – but only with someone I trust. It’s a bonding experience.”

“I like being treated like his sex slave; it makes me feel irresistible.”

The best article I found was one from several years ago on alternet.org that includes a long attribution from our own Rachel Kramer Bussel, who states, “There’s no reason why a woman’s feminist thoughts or credentials or beliefs should be somehow demoted because she’s sexually submissive.” No indeed. In fact, when I think in a personal way about why the idea of submission is arousing to me, it boils down to the last of the three quotes, “it makes me feel irresistible.”

In any Dom/sub relationship, negotiation takes place and boundaries are drawn. What each person likes, what they don’t like, what really gets them off. Which means that if a man is dominating me, he’s thinking about me. I’m the one getting his full attention. I do, as the last woman stated, feel irresistible, because I’m very well aware that this scenario is also massively turning him on. I alone am the source of his desire. And let’s be honest, it’s nice. No complaints. Having wanted attention devoted just on me…I’m good with that. 😉

It’s been said that the everday powerful woman likes being dominated in the bedroom because giving up power there temporarily liberates her from having to make constant decisions. Someone else – whom she trusts – is taking care of that. It’s freeing to be sure, and perhaps that’s also a huge draw for many. Even if a woman doesn’t have a traditionally thought of “powerful” day-time role, she’s still got obligations and decisions to make that don’t have to be dealt with while in the role of submissive.

Hero to Obey cover imageI’d love to hear what you think. Dominant or submissive? Do you set the rules, or does your partner lead the way? While pondering, be sure to check out Hero to Obey and see how Alexa’s heroine Gigi takes care of business. And then follow us on Lady Smut. Do it, you hear. That’s an order.



The Art Of The Spank

24 Feb

By Elizabeth Shore

Our fellow Lady Smutter Rachel Kramer Bussel recently posted a wonderful article on how to achieve orgasm through spanking. Full of insight as to why some lucky folks can get off from getting spanked and the emotional connection tied to it, there was one line in the article that got me thinking. Rachel wrote – referring to the heroine in the short spanking story “Restitution” by Ria Restrepo – “…the man delivering those blows knows precisely what he’s doing.”

Intriguing! But how exactly does the dude learn to deliver those orgasm-worthy blows? Surely perfection comes with practice and there’s much to be said for learning on the job. Yet what about if you’re the kind of person who likes to do her homework? What about if you prefer reading a recipe to throwing all the ingredients in a pot and seeing how it comes out? Is there a spanking primer for the studious among us? Well, of course there is, silly! It’s called the Internet.

It was interesting to note that upon a quick Google search for lessons in how to spank, kink spanking – thankfully –  far and away rose to the top over spanking a child. (wikiHow does provide lessons in the latter, complete with drawn pictures. Creepily disturbing). But the first how-to for what I was after comes via our friends at Cosmopolitan. In their humorously titled “Guide to Cheeky Sex” the Cosmo slideshow provides tips via sexologist Dr. Sadie Allison.

I actually thought the suggestions here were pretty decent. The initial message was that you’ve got to introduce the idea of backdoor blows slowly to your man, lest it turn into a butt ugly experience for you both. You might begin with a massage before progressing to rubbing your naked body all over his bare bum. Give him a couple playful blows before notching up the intensity and moving from bare handed smacks to paddle play.

Over at SoFeminine, they’ve called on help from spanking master Allison England. She hosts a spanking salon over at Coco de Mer, London’s “spanking emporium,” so I figure she knows what she’s talking about. Much of her advice is similar to Dr. Sadie’s, but she also has an additional tip. For maximum enjoyment when using a paddle, go for the “sweet spot,” also known as the lower area of the bum. She also advises, for female spankees, to wear crotchless panties while getting smacked. Pressure on the labia from the straps on the central part of the panties can be arousing to the point of achieving orgasm. Sounds A-OK to me.

Of course, it you don’t feel like reading up on spanking tips, you can always head over to YouTube and watch them. There are spanking videos a’plenty. Or, you can watch one of my favorite spanking scenes of all, from Secretary. Maggie Gyllenhaal is superb as she moves from surprise to arousal in the span of two minutes. Of course, James Spader is the one doing the spanking, so …

Enjoy. And before you go, get your a** in gear and follow us at Lady Smut. We’ll keep busting our butts to bring you fresh content every day of the week.


The 2016 Lady Smut Read Hotter Challenge

1 Jan

by G.G. Andrew2016 Reading Challenge (1)

Since we here at Lady Smut love our hot reads, we’re trying something new for 2016: the Read Hotter Challenge. 

Book challenges are a fun way to read books you might not have otherwise picked up and explore new stories, writers, and genres. The Lady Smut Read Hotter Challenge is no different. While you may already be planning to read that hot story your friend loves, maybe you weren’t going to pick up a romance penned by a dude or a book with new-to-you kink. With only ten items on the Read Hotter list, you can read a book a month for ten months, and leave an extra two months to read off-list. (Or more hot stories penned by dudes with new-to-you kink, perhaps?)

Print it out, share it on Pinterest, tell your friends. Then choose an item on the list and experiment. And, yes, cheating is completely okay. If you’re reading a hot novella about a guy you couldn’t bring home to mom and dad, go ahead and give yourself two checkmarks.

Thinking about trying out the Read Hotter Challenge? Post in the comments! And if you need suggestions on what to read, check out our recent recommendations, including Alexa Day’s recommendations for interracial romance.

I’ll touch base with you all later in the year to see how you’re doing with the challenge and what tasty stories we here at Lady Smut have found to mark off on our own lists.

Feel free to share the above graphic wherever you hang out on social media, and if you’d like to post about your awesome hot reads, you can use the tag #LadySmutReadHotter2016.

So, go ahead: read hotter in 2016. I know we will be.

Back in Business. Ain’t it Grand?

16 Nov

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

Hello Lady Smuters! I have returned and am again all up in your bidness.

Didja miss me?

Getting back into “real life” after a month’s recovery from surgery is…well, it’s weird, I won’t lie. Mostly because nothing’s changed and everything you’ve step (briefly) away from has pretty much carried on without you. No harm. No foul. After a lot of sleeping (and, let’s face it, a lot of reading and re-reading Kristen Ashley novels because my glom is strong and cannot, WILL NOT, be denied) life basically went, “oh, you’re back” and flowed on accordingly.

Sux when that happens, amirite?

One of the books I read either before or after (dem drugs, dey make da days blend) was Cara McKenna’s Crosstown Crush, which our own Madeline Iva touched on a bit last week in her post Bring Horns: Watching, Cuckolding, & Other Things Couples Do on Dirty Dates. Here at Lady Smut, we’re big fans of Cara McKenna–like, HUGE–which you can see in my review of her book Hard Time along with Liz Everly’s look at After Hours (another great), and Madam Iva’s interview with Ms. McKenna.


Click on image to buy!


I won’t go over the plot of Crosstown Crush as Madam Iva has that well covered. (Yes, that’s a ploy to click on her link above. Go with it.) Outside of the author being pretty much an auto read, I picked up Crosstown Crush due of the advertised MFM threesome, which, believe it or not, is a hard trope to find (*rim shot*).

I choose my erotic romance reads carefully because not all kinks pleasure all readers and frankly, there’s a lot out there that doesn’t ring my reading happy place. That’s okay–to each their own and all that–but it means I read between the cover copy lines before hitting my (1-click) button.

So I went carefully in to Crosstown Crush, because I love Cara McKenna’s books…but I do not do cheaters. Cheating, to me, is the ultimate betrayal of intimacy with and respect for one’s partner. It’s an automatic DNF when a hero cheats (within the relationship) and it’s one of the few real-life scenarios I will not abide in my reading choices. (The exception is historical romance due to the prevalent trope of the heroes being more sexually experienced than the [usually virginal] heroines and often having a mistress up until they’ve realized their love for the heroine.) Several excellent writers have made a number of successful novels wherein the hero (or, though more rarely, the heroine) cheats, that carefully explore the parameters of relationships and the concept of forgiveness as the characters work to move cautiously forward into a new place together. Or so I’ve been told. I haven’t read them myself because, no. No cheating. Full stop. Hard line.

The consensual cuckolding in Crosstown Crush begins as mere role-play between Mike and Samira. They both get off on it and McKenna takes some pains to illustrate how this works for them both. Without question, they are deeply in love with one another and Samira has no problem giving Mike the kink he needs to address his uber-alpha issues, whether it’s creating ever more lurid and elaborate scenarios of her fictional dates or being the one to suggest the “let’s bring this cuckold thing into real life” option in the first place, an elevation of his kink Mike desires but was not going to ask of his wife.

“The savage bull may, but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull’s horns and set them in my forehead, and let me be vilely painted, and in such great letters as they write ‘Here is good horse to hire’ let them signify under my sign ‘Here you may see Benedick, the married man.’”
(Much Ado About Nothing, I.i.215–219)

Here’s the thing–the cuckolding deal is not for me. This seems obvious given my hard line on cheating, but it’s not really that which makes me uncomfortable about this book. It’s the humiliation. I don’t find it sexy or titillating for one partner to humiliate the other, regardless of the consensual aspect. And that’s what cranks Mike’s pump–he needs to be humiliated by another man “claiming” his woman and then “reclaim” her at the end of the scenario in order to assert his manhood. Now again, McKenna takes pains to detail how Mike and Samira both enjoy their roles in this kink and how Samira, in particular, willingly plays her role out of love and desire. But there’s so much explanation–first to the reader and then to Bern–that it begins to feel less informative and more like justification.

Bern enjoys being watched, a somewhat more common kink, and after meeting Samira and a lot of careful communication, he becomes the horns of the cuckold. Not for nothing, but I much prefer Bern to Mike. He’s hot, charming, affable, self-aware, a phenomenal lover, and terribly sexy. His first “date” with Samira is nearly perfect and made me wonder why she wouldn’t just keep on keeping on with Bern. Samira and Bern have great chemistry, in person and in bed, and it’s not a surprise that their physical intimacy within the bounds of the agreed upon scenarios deepens their emotional intimacy. They like each other on top of being attracted to each other and Samira is upfront about that with Mike (it helps to be sexually attracted to the man who’s going to play in your kink with you and your husband. I guess.)

While the sex is outstanding for everyone, the emotional conflicts build as intimacy between Samira and Bern grows. Samira has more involvement with him than Mike as her and Bern’s emails are the communication chain by which their engagements are arranged, which serves to preserve the parameters of Mike’s kink, keeping Bern an approved near stranger who Mike’s allowing to have sex with his wife. Samira and Bern are left alone together to set up the cuckold scenes in which Mike “discovers” them at which point Samira and Bern proceed to make him watch as they play on through and verbally humiliate Mike. Once Bern finishes and leaves, Mike almost violently “reclaims” Samira. But soon Samira and Bern are filming their assignations for Mike when he travels for business. Alone, their intimacy begins to break past the agreed upon kink play and become something very real.

It’s here that Samira finally claims her own. Up till now she’s been engaging and enjoying Mike’s kink–seeing to his needs out of her deep love for him and happily getting her own back in the process. In excess. But as her relationship with Bern grows beyond the boundaries of Mike’s kink, she realizes her own “kink”–her ability to love two men very differently at the same time. Her love for her husband is unchanged; it’s even become stronger by their open discussion of trust as they’ve invited Bern into their bed. Now she knows any forward movement of her relationship with Mike will need to address the desires she’s discovered thanks to their/her relationship with Bern. In the skilled hands of Cara McKenna’s emotional writing of vulnerable characters, Crosstown Crush goes beyond the humiliation of Mike’s kink and into an exploration of the many wrinkles and layers of love and trust and need, which exist in every relationship, regardless of kink.

Follow Lady Smut. We’ll give you the bull’s horns, but only if you ask nicely.


My sex life may be “vanilla,” but I’m still kinky, and so is my new BDSM erotica book Dirty Dates

16 Oct

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

When I saw my essay about my sex life in the October issue of O, The Oprah Magazine, I was, naturally, overjoyed to have a first byline in a magazine I adore and subscribe to. But a second, less welcome thought threatened to crowd into my exuberance—I was nervous. I’ve never shied away from publicly detailing the most intimate details of my life, but what gave me pause was wondering whether, by confessing that my current sex life is, to use the modern parlance, pretty basic—one position, every time—would I be damaging my reputation as a lover of spanking and kink?


This was especially important since I have a new book of BDSM erotica, Dirty Dates: Erotic Fantasies for Couples, coming out on my 40th birthday, November 10th. I didn’t want to be seen as a hypocrite, capitalizing on the popularity of kink while living a vanilla life. But the more I thought about that, the more ridiculous that fear sounded. Here’s why:

1. Just because my sex life may not sound “kinky,” and may not be, for the most part, I’m in the best relationship of my life. My boyfriend is the first partner I’ve ever lived with, and that commingling of our lives has brought numerous changes into my life, some challenging, some wonderful. I can take the time to take care of myself, and him, and our relationship, in ways I’ve never been able to with exes. His constant support, even though he’s far more private than I am, has given me the stability to focus on my writing in a way I never have before, and actually get published in magazines like O. Our relationship constantly surprises, delights and teaches me, in the bedroom and outside of it. I don’t need it to fit a certain model to be exactly right for who I am as an individual.

2. I’m still me, still the same woman with filthy fantasies I’ve been putting on paper for 15 years. I probably always will be. One fallacy readers make with any kind of fiction, but especially with erotic fiction, is that an author’s work always stems from their personal life, directly or indirectly. The idea that someone might sit down at their desk and create fictional tales about fictional characters seems to get lost in our desire to pin down what exactly those words “mean.” Well, I call bullshit on that. Yes, plenty of my stories have been inspired by real life, like my dishwashing fetish story “Doing the Dishes,” but I still carefully craft and curate every aspect. Even the characters who look and sound and dress like me, like “Rachel,” the protagonist of my very first erotic story, “Monica and Me,” are not, in fact, me.

3. My job as an anthology editor extends far beyond my personal preferences. I would be doing an injustice to my readers if I selected stories only because they dovetailed perfectly with my own personal kinks. Instead, the job of an editor of a book like Dirty Dates, as I see it, is to select a combination of kinky stories that will appeal to a range of readers, whether or not they personally practice—or fantasize about—BDSM. I want the stories to stand on their own, as stories. Yes, they are explicit and racy and deeply, deeply kinky. But they are also stories with a beginning, middle and end, the same as any other stories. There’s no checklist of personal experience to write erotica, and those who’d make that assumption fail to understand that words on a page have to live and die by the strength of their meaning, not their creators’ personal lives.

4. Lastly, I want to talk about what being “kinky” means to me. It extends beyond what I might do in the privacy of my home on any given day or night. For me, being kinky—which is a word I identify with, although labels are really not my favorite thing to attach to myself—means letting myself explore the ways I get off on power, submission, dominance and erotic pain. Sometimes I play with those elements in overt ways, sometimes more subtly, and sometimes not at all. But that’s still there, even within a framework that might sound “boring” to others.

Stay tuned for Dirty Dates week right here on Lady Smut, starting November 9th. You can also follow the book on Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr; I promise, there’ll be plenty of kink.

How to eroticize anything: moving edition, with free BDSM erotica story

18 Sep

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

I don’t know about you, but I hate moving. Hate it with a passion, all the more so after having moved three times in the last three years. In some ways, it’s gotten easier, especially because the first moved involved clearing out my Brooklyn apartment of 13 years and hiring a trash removal service, which was both expensive and humiliating, but even the subsequent moves have been stressful and the antithesis of erotica.

what my house looked like during my last move; definitely not sexy!

Which brings me to what I hope is inspiration for those of you sitting there thinking, “I really want to write some smut but have nothing to write about.” I firmly believe that you can eroticize anything, whether it’s love, death, war, politics or, yes, moving. While I was in the midst of moving mania, I found myself thinking about a very hot mover I met when a friend left her jacket with him and I collected it for her. His voice was the kind that could make me melt, and even though in person he wasn’t my usual type, if I’d been single I would definitely have tried to at least get him to whisper in my ear. Plus, he didn’t fit my own preconceived idea of what a mover would look like: big and bulky. He was shorter and thinner and had far more tattoos than I would have expected. That made me even more attracted to him.

So while I can’t report hooking up with him, I can share this story, which hasn’t appeared anywhere else, inspired by all my moves. I’ll leave you with this: next time you find yourself in a situation that makes you want to cry, like my moves did, see how you can turn that on its head and make it sexy as hell. I wrote about the move I wished I could have had (or the post-move afterglow, if you will), and it made the process just a little easier to handle.


If you like this story, I’ve got plenty more sexy BDSM erotica about kinky couples in Dirty Dates: Erotic Fantasies for Couples, which pubs on my 40th birthday, November 10th. To find out more about my books and events, please subscribe to my newsletter at my website.

Indoor Voices
by Rachel Kramer Bussel

I never thought I’d be the type of woman to wear a ball gag. I don’t mean to say I’m not kinky—I’m as kinky as you can get, and no one knows that better than my husband, Dominick (yes, my guy’s nickname is Dom, and it suits him to a T). What I mean is that I’m a screamer, a yeller, the kind of loud-mouthed brat who gets taken across my husband’s knee for a spanking at a party when I’ve been a little too loose with private details about our bedroom antics. That was last year at our neighbors’ holiday party; “If you don’t mind blabbing our business, you won’t mind them seeing you get spanked.” Oh, I struggled and cursed and pouted and even cried a little, but we both knew I loved every minute of it. I’m sure nobody was too surprised to learn I like getting spanked.

Making noise is part of our foreplay—and our during-play. Bantering with Dom, being bratty or lusty, sometimes egging him on, sometimes simply showing and telling him exactly how much I’m enjoying whatever I’m doing, is part of the fun. Or it was, anyway, in our old neighborhood, where we didn’t care about those who might judge us. Since then, I took a new job several states away, and Dom transferred offices. One of the adjustments was that, with a higher cost of living, we couldn’t afford a big sprawling house, one where our nearest neighbors were close enough if we needed anything, but far enough away they weren’t privy to every time I begged, sobbed and shrieked.

Instead of a house with a basement dungeon, we found a cozy apartment—it even has a fireplace! The one thing it doesn’t have, though, are thick enough walls to muffle our noises. We learned this the hard way, when, in the middle of Dom beating me with our favorite paddle while I counted loudly (we were up to “twelve, thank you, sir”), there was a knock at the door. When I answered it, our new neighbor Holly looked at me with concern. “Beth, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great. We’re just…” I paused before improvising, “installing something.” Why I’d need to count during this act, I wasn’t sure, but I hoped Holly would let it slide. She didn’t look like she entirely believed me, but she reluctantly dropped it, leaving me with my heart pounding in an entirely different way than it had while Dom struck my ass. Now, I have a headful of bright burgundy hair, five earrings in one ear and three in the other, and enough metal to set off the detector at the airport every time. I’m not the type of woman who expects everyone to like me or generally cares what people think. But there’s a difference between being independent and wanting to make sure my neighbors aren’t practically a part of my sex life because they’ve overheard every intimate moment.

“Look, I don’t care that much, but if you want to make sure your screams don’t have the police knocking on our door, we’ll have to improvise. I don’t mind keeping your mouth occupied.” He pulled me close for a big kiss, the kind where his tongue invaded my mouth so fully I had no room to breathe or even think. “You be quiet as you can today, and tomorrow you’ll get a reward.”

I’m feisty and occasionally bratty, but I like to earn Dom’s praise, a treat that never gets old. He knows how to reward me in a way that makes every part of me purr. So I took my paddling, with a few extra smacks for causing us to be interrupted, as silently as I could. Whenever I wanted to scream, I bit down into the softness of our pillowcase. I found that while it didn’t come naturally to me, keeping quiet actually turned me on even more. Maybe all that energy I’d gotten used to releasing via my voice got channeled inward, or maybe it knowing that I was obeying Dom was enough. By the time he spread me out, placed a vibrator in my hand, then turned it on to high and had me hold it to my clit before fucking me extra hard, I was happy to bite my lip as my arousal built and built into an orgasm that almost squeezed his cock out of me. When he was close, he took the toy from my hand, easily turned it off and set it aside, then made sure my focus was on the feel of him fucking me. My breath sounded extra loud in my ears as I thrust my hips upward to meet him. When he came, his own low groan was music to my ears.

True to his word, Dom found a way to make keeping quiet not a chore, but a delight—not to mention one that made me instantly wet. Never think you’ve seen everything, at least, not with a guy like Dom, because when he came home from work the next day, his gift was one that kept on giving. “Do you want your present, girl?” When I nodded my head, my ponytail bobbing (he likes that hairstyle for easy access to leading me around), he pushed my shoulders down. Like a good sub, I sank to my knees, sitting so my shoulders were rounded, my breasts thrust forward. Of course I was naked—that’s a given in our home, unless I’m told otherwise.

He patted my hair, looked me deep in the eyes, then slapped my right cheek, hard enough to sting. I let out the quietest of whimpers, tears forming in my eyes. Dom doesn’t slap me very often, so when he does, it makes my whole body come alive, eager for more. Getting slapped stirs my deepest masochism, making endorphins fly every which way. It also makes my mouth and pussy wetter than I even have words for, which was good, because after a few more searing whacks of his hand against my sensitive skin, the next thing I knew, he was holding a black silicone penis gag in front of my face. I’d seen, but never used, a ball gag, but a penis gag?

You might think that because it has the word “gag” in it this toy is something to laugh at, like penis pasta, but you’d be wrong. It was no laughing matter when the slick black toy cockhead was presented to me. I didn’t pause or protest, but simply did what I always do when Dom puts a cock in my face—I opened my mouth and sucked. Dom quickly fastened the Velcro behind my head, then returned to smile down at me. “That’ll keep you quiet, my love. Bang on the floor three times if you need to safeword.” I nodded.

By “floor,” he literally meant the wood of our entryway, where we could easily be heard by anyone passing by, he took me over his lap. Dom had also bought a new paddle. I didn’t look behind me to see what it was made of, but I knew it was new from the way it felt against my ass.

Uncharacteristically, Dom went lightly at first, which lulled me into a sense of complacency. Just as he’d built a rhythm that was almost hypnotic, I felt a harsh, severe blow. I couldn’t help the moan that bubbled up from deep inside, but it had nowhere to go, trapped against the gag. I sucked harder and harder as the blows landed one atop another—literally. He didn’t alternate cheeks, but rather gave me several smacks in one spot before finding another.

The more intense my paddling, the wetter I got. Not being able to make noise meant I had to show him how aroused I was in other ways. I squirmed, hoping to come into contact with his cock. I licked the underside of the sleek toy in my mouth, wishing it were Dom’s. I gave in to the spanking, to the pain, to the rush. When he grabbed my ponytail hard, I gave in to the tears. “You’ve been so good and quiet, I’m going to give you a special spanking.”

The paddle thudded to the ground before Dom pressed my legs as wide as he could get them, then began delivering love taps right on my pussy lips. The taps soon became full-on smacks, like the ones he’d planted across my cheek. I breathed raggedly through my noise, craving only his hand. After a volley that left my pussy throbbing, he slid his thumb inside me while manipulating my clit. I came hard against his hand, primed from the buildup.

When Dom let me sit up, he went to unbuckle the gag, but I shook my head. “You like it, don’t you, my dirty girl?” I smiled. I didn’t need to verbalize it. My Dom knows me perfectly.

BDSM Disney Style

8 Jun

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

If you always believed there was something kinky underneath the surface of Disney characters, this post is for you.

Artist Christopher Stoll has created the series Disney Dommes featured this week on the Shady Lady Fairy Tales blog. In this series, Stoll recreates Disney “princesses” and their male “princes” in fetish and BDSM poses.

“The intention is not to make porn,” Stoll says. “Rather these pop-culture heroines are being used to demonstrate how conventional notions of sexual performance can be turned on their head. There is nothing shameful or inherently pornographic about ostensibly vanilla princesses in sexually expressive or traditionally masculine positions.”

Featuring Binding and Servitude along with the somewhat less well-known Pet Play, Medical Play, Needle Play, Stoll not only includes a brief bio about how, say, Cinderella is working out her issues by making Prince Charming lick the hearth, he also gives details on the fetish itself.

The images are copyrighted (and rightly so), so head over to the Shay Lady Fairy Tales site to see Rapunzel tying Flynn up in her hair for kinky fun or Mulan exploring Feminization with her foot on the…butt of the issue.

You’ll never look at Disney Princesses the same way again.

Don’t miss out! There’s still time to head over to Goodreads and sign up for out giveaway of The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires.

Follow Lady Smut.


Take Me Away: F Coupes and Fantasies of Abduction

19 Oct


That's nice, isn't it? It'll be his turn soon enough.

That’s nice, isn’t it? It’ll be his turn soon enough.

By Alexa Day

I love this year’s line of Jaguar commercials. The ones that reassure us that Brits make the best villains. I think they started during this year’s Super Bowl. I remember watching Mark Strong driving that gorgeous F coupe around. Between his sinfully sexy voice and the delicious growl of the engine, I’d have bought whatever the television told me to. It’s probably best that the base model F coupe costs $65,000, or I’d be living in it now.

I lost sight of the ads for a while, until I heard bits of breathless praise for one featuring Tom Hiddleston. Tom doesn’t do anything for me. I’m sure he’s a lovely person; I just don’t find him attractive. As a result, I didn’t pay loads of attention to what people were saying.

Tom Hiddleston … something something … Jaguar … something … bag in the trunk … something … what’s in the bag?

Here’s how it really goes.

When I finally watched it, my first thought was that the bag was too small. I had envisioned a large bag, made of silky black fabric, with a sleek length of rope to fasten the top.

You know, something big enough for me.

I’m not saying that I fantasize about being dropped into the Jaguar’s luxuriant trunk by Tom Hiddleston. I’m not attracted to Tom. If Mark Strong wanted me in the trunk of the F coupe, however, he wouldn’t even need the bag. I’m not just going to hop in because he says to, mostly because I enjoy listening to him talk. But I would offer him only token resistance. I might bite his hand just to see what sort of sound he made, but my plan is to end up in the trunk like a good girl.

The abduction fantasy has been one of my favorites for many years, at least since high school. I’ve long indulged thoughts of being carried off by strong, powerful men who needed me for something they knew I would not surrender willingly. The fantasy’s politically incorrect surface discourages most people from examining it further. I think people struggle to understand that it has no correlation to actual abduction, and I think they struggle with this more than they do with a lot of other sexual fantasies. Because I enjoy the abduction fantasy and its permutations so much, though, I don’t mind studying it from time to time. Themes of power, surrender, control of self and control of others pop up in my writing fairly often. I just think that sort of thing is hot, and I like experimenting with all those boundaries.

The abduction fantasy wears many faces. I maintain a mental shortlist with a rotating cast of fantasy kidnappers. (And they are all mine. Not sharing them.) Some of them are good-looking sophisticates, guys like Mark, who want something I have. A state secret. Launch codes. Passwords. Knowledge of arcane languages. They’re endlessly patient and wonderfully seductive, and this flavor of fantasy is more about power than about sex. I mean, until I give up the launch codes or whatever, the plot for world domination is at a standstill, right? I’ll get to see just what this person will do to get what he wants from me. That’s a nice train of thought.

Click to get in line for release day!

Click to get in line for release day!

And sometimes I’m dealing with a rough character with baser interests. These guys look more like Jason Statham, accustomed to the use of force. They might deliver me to someone who wants the launch codes, but along the way, any number of inappropriate things might happen. This one’s about power, too, but not in the same way. It’s about being desirable enough to erode a man’s self-control. It’s about driving a man beyond regard for consequences. In a world where successful single women still hear that men are “too intimidated” to approach them, the rougher abduction fantasy, starring men who are not at all afraid of women, will always have a place.

I’m so tempted at this point to get into the family of fantasies featuring us women as the abductors of men. If you’re following my author page on Facebook, you’ve already seen occasional pictures of hot shirtless dudes tied to beds, showerheads and the like. I think that sort of thing is stimulating. But it is perhaps another story for another day.

For now, I’m going back into the trunk of the imaginary F coupe. I’m going to look at the trunk release handle — because a $65,000 car certainly has one — and I’m going to wonder just what Mark Strong is going to ask me for and whether I’m inclined to give it to him today.

As for you, get your own F coupe! Preorder your copy of The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires for more hotness.

And follow Lady Smut if you know what’s good for you.

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