Tag Archives: kinky

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.

Sex toys, always more than meets the eye…

29 Oct

By Isabelle Drake

Mysterious, tantalizing, surprising, smooth, and designed to make you feel amazing.

Think I’m describing a perfect guy? Nope. I’m describing sex toys—everything from the tried and true girl’s best friend, the classic vibrator, to remote control butt plugs. If you’re lucky enough to be a woman, toys are all about you because all the best ones are designed to increase a woman’s pleasure. They give you the opportunity to take ownership of your sexuality, experiment with different sensations, and most of all have fun.

Sex toys are a rite of passage. Where were you when you got your first? Your eighteenth birthday party? Bridal shower? At one of the shops on the side of the freeway? It’s awesome to receive a sex toy as a gift because it’s an invitation to a sisterhood. It hilarious to roam through a shop with your girlfriends, maybe after having a couple (several?) afternoon martinis, giggling and daring each other to try something ‘outrageous.’ You know what else is great? Receiving a box of fantastic erotic goodies delivered right to your door.

Here at Lady Smut we’re being treated to a some of the amazing, thrill-inducing subscription boxes from Unbound, a discreet subscription service for women who are unleashed, adventurous, independent, and know love a decadent time. Every three months the ba14805650_1242456599151177_910417584_n.jpgbes at Unbound put together a fantastic collection of items designed to put some sass in your step. This month I was treated to the Double Entendre box and yep, my steps have been sassy ever since.

The center attraction of this box, the Je Joue Ooh Collection. “The Sea Witch from the Little Mermaid once said that life is full of tough choices. But what if it weren’t? Je Joue’s fabulous new “Ooh” collection features a core vibrator motor that can be used with whatever your heart desires- be it a butt plug, a cock ring or their fabulous “pebble” clitoral vibe.” Sure,  I stole those lines right from the Unbound’s own site. By why not? That description is perfect. This set offers endless possibilities for private time.

The treasure from the box I’ve gotten the most use from is the one the box must’ve been named for. Is it a gleaming pair of bangles? Nope. Look closer. It’s a pair of golden handcuffs. This flirty accessory is an absolute conversation starter. Put on your sexiest blouse or form fitted T, run your fingers across the edge while chatting with the object of your desire, and the rest of the night is going to go your way. handcuff_mirror_grande.jpg

Cuff yourself? Link the two of you together? Or hook that hot one to the bed. These are all excellent ways to make sure everyone gets what she—and he—wants. Because we rock here at Lady Smut, we’ve written about handcuff before. Check out our post, Very Restrained Foreplay: Handcuffs in Hollywood.

Let’s not forget the yummy Smith and Sinclair cocktail pastilles, scrumptious Sliquid flavored lubricant and inviting Unbound door hanger. Yep, those were in that box too.

Isabelle Drake writes urban fantasy, erotica, and erotic romance. She even wrote a story, PLAY FOR KEEPS, about a woman’s first experience with sex toys.

514-180x288About PLAY FOR KEEPS:

Two men, one woman, a secluded beach and a challenge – which man really knows how to give her what she craves?

Keera Koltai is convinced she’s lost her sexual spark. Burnt out from her work at an adult toy store, Fantasies Inc., she’s headed south for some time alone – away from men. But thanks to a washed-out causeway, she finds herself stranded on a tiny island with two guys. For years, she’s listened to customers talk about lust at first sight, but she’d decided if it hadn’t happened to her already, it was never going to happen. Her instant reaction to the men proves that theory all wrong.

Check out an excerpt, share your experiences and thoughts about erotic play, and follow us here at Lady Smut. We know what you want and we’re here to give it to you.

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?

DirtyDates_approved

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.

movingboxes
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.

DirtyDates_approved

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.

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