Advice From a Dom

Advice. I think we all need some on a regular basis. Some of us have mentors in our professions or perhaps while we were in school. He or she can give credence to issues or simply tell their story while offering support. Some also engage in helping with discipline, whether for the mind or body. When couples or a man or women alone decide to enter into a D/s (Domination and submission) relationship, my belief is that they certainly should have advice from someone who’s explored even for a brief period of time. For many whoA Sub Needs to Feel long to submit or dominate another, they feel out of place, alone in the world. Well of course, they certainly aren’t.

BDSM and the various aspects are growing in household between couples and singles. This isn’t simply because of the popularity of Fifty Shades. Many long for increased passion, nurturing, and yes, even discipline.

I had lunch with a couple of girlfriends the other day and we were talking openly about the D/s lifestyle. I’ve mentioned in a previous blog that one of my friends surprised me with a text one Sunday evening. She asked if I could find her a particular color of flogger. I choked, re-read the text then laughed. Why? Because not in a million years would I have anticipated she hungered to even try anything remotely kinky. She’s ultra conservative and had never really asked me any questions before.

What’s been confirmed since that sunny evening is that you never know what goes on behind closed doors – and not just in bedrooms. She has a male friend who is submissive and she decided, after many weeks of intense conversations, that she wanted to explore becoming a Domme. This can be a heady task, especially given she has zero clue what she’s getting into. She’s highly intelligent and immediately gravitated toward the realization she needs to learn everything she can before making this decision. She remembered everything I’ve shared in writing and my discussions with John Patrick and asked if she could talk with him.

I was pleased and of course initiated the call. He accepted and a week ago they talked. This wasn’t a secret conversation so both told me what was said from their point of view. As with any situation between a man and woman, the sides can be filtered in a different manner. In talking with JP, he said she was very open and honest about the fact she knew little. He felt she was looking for affirmation that what she was attempting was ‘okay’. He assured her she wasn’t alone and that entering into any phase of the lifestyle is joyous, but certainly daunting.

He went on to tell me he expressed how important it was for her to be patient with herself as well as with her male friend. He could sense there was a very tight connection between them and encouraged her to continue asking questions, as well as reading everything she could get her hands on.

I found out during lunch, my gal pal and her guy aren’t romantically involved. They are friends, but she also mentioned connection is strong. The reason is that he can be himself I will take youwith her, telling her aspects of his needs as a submissive he feels uncomfortable doing so with many of the women he dates. Let’s face it, the majority of women see men as a strong being, even if they don’t want them to be dominant every day. He has basic fears as we all do of being accepted.

What I found so interesting during our lunch was that JP stressed to her constantly the word ‘communication’. He told her candidly that he and I could talk for hours more openly than he has ever been able to in his life. This is very true. There were no masks. We left ourselves wide open and vulnerable, but in doing so, learned very quickly how much trust we had for each other.

She was very impressed with the time he took, his caring attitude and how strongly he felt about the lifestyle in general. For many, including aspects of D/s or BDSM is about spicing up an already existing coupling. In the case of my friend, she has no desire to take the domination to any other level than time spent together – without being a full time couple. The challenge for her is that she’s not certain how far she can take their desires at this point. I understand very much why she’s a bit hesitant. When you dabble in D/s or BDSM, this doesn’t change the fact you have to have complete trust. You must communicate on an entirely different level than you would even as a married couple. I’ll firmly stand behind this.

You can’t delve into methods of control, pain, confinement or discipline without utter open communication and deep conversations. If you do, you’ll be setting yourself up for failure. For JP, I don’t see him as the kind of man or Dom who could enter into just playtime. I know that he would enjoy going to a kink club that was vetted out and even partaking in various play, but in totality, he needs to feel the very intrinsic connection – even love. I understand this as well and with everything I’ve learned through these conversations with him, as well as other D/s couples, I couldn’t either. That’s just how I’m made – my very soul.

For my girlfriend, she’s not ready for a committed relationship. She was married, never shared a bit of BDSM with another, and this is very new. She’s eager, but cautious. She’s curious and now more intrigued than ever. I have no doubt she’ll continue learning. As we were talking over lunch, she said he became animated when he mentioned the use of implements for discipline. He went over everything from a hand spanking, a paddle, a flogger and his favorite, the belt. I couldn’t help chuckling when he talked about how exciting the use of a belt had been for him.

I remember detailed conversations about this very topic. He advised wisely to go slow, take her time and learn how to use a flogger before wielding.

Again, I’ve said this very thing time and time again. Learn your craft as you would any other. You can hurt the body as well as the spirit if you don’t know what you’re doing. SheJust follow was absolutely adorable when she admitted how surprised she was the flogger she ordered was being hand made by a craftsman. She thought a flogger was a flogger no matter where you ordered the leather strap from. Her eyes and mind opened wide when I explained how they’re made and why. As you may remember, JP has a special bag – his collection of tools he took his time in selecting and ordering. He took plenty of time learning the craft of using them as well.

I knew in asking JP to talk with her, guide her as she takes baby steps, he would find the right way to encourage as well as caution. From what I could tell as lunch concluded, he’d done just that. Is she going to jump into the lifestyle? Of course not. She’s determined to read and talk to others. I applaud her for her time and consideration as D/s isn’t to be entered into lightly.

I have to say, I’m very proud of JP for his teaching ability as I am with her pointed questions. I’m smiling still and can’t wait to hear more from her as she takes additional steps into such an amazing journey.

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

 

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Why Are Spanking Books SO Popular?

That’s a very good question. Honestly, my spanking books sell better than my thrillers. I think we might just be a society who realizes we all desperately need some discipline. There are various reasons why including we’re humans who’ve reached the ‘entitlement’ level. I honestly can’t stand that so many of us have gone in our lives. We don’t seem to want to work hard for anything, preferring to have everything handed to us because we ‘deserve’. This certainly isn’t the way I was raised.

I also think the basic psychology is deep-seeded. We long to do the right thing, or at least Anticipation finalthe majority of us do anyway. Of course there are folks who will try to buck the system. We have rules we must follow every day, whether in our careers or the country where we live. We generally play along, knowing the basics of requirements placed on us. But…at times we all take a little advantage of the system. Don’t we? Of course. We argue or fight for a cause. We push hard against our spouse to be the top dog. We tell a little white lie now and again.

Admit it. You know you’ve issued a tiny lie in the last week or so. Maybe you simply wanted to get out of work early so you told your boss you had a doctor’s appointment. Meanwhile you sat out on your deck in the sunshine drinking a glass of wine, snickering that you snagged an extra two or three hours. For many, the churning gut of knowing you’re doing something wrong will eat at you.

This is why I honestly believe many couples have turned to the concept of domestic discipline or simply a spicy spanking before a passionate session. Relieving our conscience is cleansing –much like going to a priest and confessing all of your sins. In writing my DD trilogy, I made certain I shared many difficult aspects of being and staying in love. Relationships are complex, often difficult and certainly not necessarily what you signed on for. When couples allow one to be in charge of the household, often the angst goes away, arguments are less and there’s peace where only fighting occurred before.

Anticipation just released and the series is truly about love more than anything. I had a wonderful review and the reader loved the story, albeit she mentioned the book isn’t a spanking story and she’s right. The book is about a relationship heading for divorce and a difficult decision the husband and wife make together. The first book allows you to drink in their turmoil, learning about their mistakes and the road they’re on. When couples spank, the concept of adding discipline is about love entirely. For any who think otherwise, such as this is all about abuse, is sorely wrong. Here’s a little taste. Think about your relationship. Would you both be better off adding discipline? I bet if you look deep into your soul, the answer might just surprise you.

ANTICIPATION

“Damn it! Why is every night like this?”

“Cause you’re a jerk off,” Shannon Parker said under her breath. I hate you. I hate you. I My Inner Childhate you. Loathing her husband and calling him names seemed like sport lately, one she relished in and seemed to be winning. Snickering, she could tell David was swearing under his breath.

“Bitch.”

Cringing, she stood, staring out the living room bay window, a myriad of ugly thoughts racing in the back of her mind. She glanced toward the doorway and held up her middle finger, anger boiling within her. I fucking hate you.

“You’re such a bitch, lately.”

“Shut up!” she screeched and fisted her forehead. God, she wanted to punch him. The sad truth was, she was behaving like one. She could hear David rustling in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinet doors, the sounds somehow wafting above the music blaring on the CD player. Of course he wasn’t just washing and drying utensils and placing them in the drawers. He was yanking open every one, throwing every spoon and knife, dish or glass inside before slamming the door or the drawer, cursing in a low and husky tone, every time. But she could still hear his angry exclamations. Asshole. For a minute, she thought about storming into the kitchen and telling him to his face. Any additional insolence would only escalate another fight. Now she debated.

“You shut up!”

David was pissed tonight, frustration brimming in every word since he’d gotten home. Then again, his moods had been getting darker over the last several months as their relationship continued to deteriorate. Her husband was a different man than the one she’d married. And, she was am unconventional woman, one her husband couldn’t seem to tolerate.

She shook her head, trying her best to keep the nasty words she was thinking from brimming to the surface. Another argument wasn’t going to do either one of them any good, or their nearly destroyed relationship, but Goddamn it, he could push every fucking button. Calm down. Just calm down. She glanced over at her glass of red wine and for the life of her, the color made her think of death. Maybe the fact her mother had recently died had something to do with her moments of raw angst. Sadly, her bouts of lashing out at David, blaming him for practically everything that had gone wrong lately, had been increasing as well. They were on a collision course to separation. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind. There were days she didn’t give a shit and others she was on the brink of balling her eyes out. Her emotions were all over the place, her sensitivity level so high David couldn’t seem to say anything right. At least to her.

A rattled sigh escaping her lips, she reached over and grabbed her wine glass, nearly pushing the dense crystal over onto David’s CD collection. Snorting, she could only imagine just how infuriated he’d be if some of his precious music collection was ruined. Taking a sip and then a gulp of her wine, she shivered from hearing him cursing again. That’s all he seemed to do lately, curse. And all she could do was call him names – horrible, vile names. She palmed the glass with one hand as she shook her head. Their life, barely two years before, had been different, happy. Well, mostly happy.

When did the ugliness start? The arguments were created out of nothing, ending up so horrific and totally off the radar. Day after day, they screamed at each other until the wee hours of the morning. Why? When had she spent the first night crying herself to sleep? When was the first time she’d contemplated leaving? The answers weren’t easy to come by. Neither were the reasons why. They’d simply fallen into a bitter trap, one not unlike several sets of close married couples. So many of their friends were either embroiled in divorce or getting close to ending whatever relationship they were in.

Closing her eyes, she could still remember the love, the passion and the fun she and DavidThat look had shared together. In the beginning, they’d been so much in love, unable to keep their hands off each other. Life had never been perfect, but right now, there was nothing they shared that was enjoyable any longer. Nothing. Their relationship was simply a tumultuous mess.

Shannon took another sip of her wine, realizing her hand was shaking to the point beads of merlot was trickling down the side of the glass. Her heart skipping, she drove back tears along with her anger, afraid of starting another fight. Tonight was supposed to be about enjoying dinner together and not a boxing match, but every time they shared space or had heated discussions, a battle seemed to ensue. Every day was a new conversation about bills and her constant spending, her laziness around the house or so much of his time spent with his friends.

God, she was tired, exhausted from sparring over nothing. She could hear him grumbling in the background and a part of her wanted to grab a bag and her keys and leaved the house, him and her fake life, forever. Fake. The ugly word was the only way to describe the moments that revolved around the clock lately.

She turned back toward the window, her emotions running high. For a brief minute, she closed her eyes, imaging another life, one filled with joy and peace and passion and…

“Are you going to help me finish the dishes or not?”

Shannon’s eyes snapped open. She exhaled and the ugly sound was ragged. Just say yes. Just make peace. “Sure.”

David snorted. “Or are you too busy drinking your wine?”

He always cut her down, no matter what she was doing or not doing. “Damn it! Why do you always do that?” Turning to face him, she gave him a horrible sneer. He was looming in the doorway. Jesus.

“Stop acting like a child. If you’d help me more, then I wouldn’t have to push you.”

“Push me? I do the lion’s share of work around here since you’re always working.” Shannon’s eyes flashed. “When was the last time you did a load of laundry or ran the vacuum? Do you even know how to turn the damn thing on?” When her tirade was met with silence, she hissed. “See.”

“Fine. Have it your way. Somehow you always manage to get what you want anyway.” David stalked back into the kitchen.

Her legs trembling, she swore under her breath. Fuck you. She wasn’t good, any longer, at making the peace, but tonight, she was exhausted from extra hours at work and simply not getting enough sleep. Clenching her fist, she held out her glass and shook her head. He knew how to push her buttons every time. The fight wasn’t worth fighting. Resigned, she shook her head, polished off her glass of wine and walked back into the kitchen. Where was love? They certainly seemed to have a lot of hate.

I hope you’ve enjoyed!

Kisses and Spanks…

Cassandre

PURCHASE LINK

http://www.amazon.com/Anticipation-Domestic-Discipline-Book-1-ebook/dp/B0127Z42WW/

 

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The Concept of Domination

Domination. The word itself can evoke a myriad of strong emotions. For many, the word constitutes a relationship involving abuse. For others, the concept is a peaceful understanding of one’s self. We all know the kind of people we are deep inside, whether we want to admit it or not. We learned early as a child whether we were a leader or a follower. We knew that we wanted to be top dog, or were happy to hide in the periphery, remaining a shadow. From what I’ve seen, there are far more followers in this world, happy to jumpA Dominant on any bandwagon. Pick a subject and too many people, who have zero idea what they are fighting for or against, rally behind a supposed leader in order to make themselves feel important. Isn’t this a sad state of the world?

Domination within an alternative lifestyle is something else entirely. However, accepting this innate knowledge isn’t easy for everyone. Perhaps they’ve never been a leader before, but know they will thrive living in a Dominant/submissive relationship. So many people not only do not understand, but also refuse to explore the truth as well as the joyous possibilities. Why? Because so many humans can’t handle an upset in the apple cart. Few like change and prefer the comfort of simply living a day-to-day life just the way they’ve always known, or were taught. Anything outside the box and they balk, rage against the machine. Hmmm…

I had a girlfriend recently text me. She wanted to know if I could find her a particular flogger. I almost choked given she’s ultra conservative and I never knew she had any interest in the D/s lifestyle in any capacity. After chatting with her for a few minutes, I realized she is a bit of a closet Domme. She has a guy she’s interested in and he needs to be taught ‘how to be a good boy’. What our conversation reaffirmed is that there are scores of people interested in various aspects of BDSM. You never know what goes on behind closed doors. Many involved in BDSM are our PTA moms, doctors, mayors and the attorney we see occasionally for our business practices. There are scores of law enforcement and judges who frequent BDSM clubs. There are many couples who frequent vacation sites catering to BDSM. Now, my firend knows she has no real knowledge of the lifestyle or practices and needs to learn, but her eagerness was rewarding to hear.

Why? Because so many men and women I’ve talked to who are either considering or delving into D/s are terrified. I give her props for even talking with me. Of course there are so many misnomers in this great world of ours about the lifestyle. Too many think this is about abuse or condoning some aspect of terrible acts. Hogwash. Get an education folks. D/s is a loving, nurturing and passionate sharing of two or more souls. I’ve been asked my many people about what they should do in expressing their needs and desires. First of all, anyone considering must learn by reading and talking to others who have been in the lifestyle for years. More importantly, anyone who craves changing from a traditional As your mastervanilla style relationship to D/s or DD (domination and submission or domestic discipline) has to look inside, embrace the person within. This is something I’ve written about before.

JP told me some time ago that living a D/s lifestyle is a choice, not a need. I disagreed to a point. Yes, you can choose whether you actually practice, but you can’t choose who you are inside. You have either a dominant or submissive personality. There is no getting around the reality. I know for JP, he’s unsure of how others will react, given he’s lived a completely vanilla life since he started dating. The ‘but’ is huge here. He knew when he was a teenager he wanted to take the dominant role, being the commander in chief so to speak. He was very aware he was always unhappy with the equality that seemed to be forced on him given society and the concept of equal rights.

When was the last time you worked within a company and you had several leaders and the corporation worked well? I would suggest never. Too many heads butting don’t infuse respect or toleration by your fellow employees. We can’t have four Presidents running our country, or any for that matter. Domination is a deep seeded need, one that has been with us for a long time. On the flip side, many would rather submit in various aspects of their lives and this helps fulfill their very soul. Have you heard that many submissives in their relationships are very powerful in their day jobs? This is very true, but of course there is a flip side. There are some who were taught, either by their mothers or other family relationships that being subservient is a powerful role indeed. There is no weakness in longing to submit any more than there is an abusive trait in those who long to dominant. So why the distraction with public opinion? Because they refuse to understand anything but what they know and have learned.

Guess what folks, there are dozens of alternative lifestyles and I’m grateful to live in a society where we can do just that – even though serious discrimination still exists. Being a dominant isn’t about abuse and if this occurs, anyone involved should run fast and hard. Being a dominant is about acceptance and garnering a peace within oneself.

In researching the lifestyle in order to write my books, I garnered a true respect of so many couples who practice and enjoy. Their lives seem fulfilled. The dominant (whether the man or woman) balances his or her work life with the various tasks required by the submissive. This might sound fairly old fashioned to those who have no clue, but again, as mentioned in a previous blog, many aspects are based in Christianity. Having a head of household is also something we can look back in our history books and reflect on. Society began changing in the 1960’s, but did it really? Push and shove. Push and shove. That’s what we’re all doing in order to make ends meet. Relationships seem to take a back seat. Don’t they?

For the dominant male or female, finding the equilibrium with our mate is difficult at best. Love is the key and the core of course, but what if full equality isn’t working? What if you’re doing nothing but fighting every day, no matter the topic?

This is where a D/s or DD lifestyle can offer a change, hope for those who might be headed for divorce. Will this work for everyone? Of course not. But tolerance of those who are attempting to navigate their way through murky waters is vital. We’re an unforgiving society. Shame on us. We think we know best just because it’s worked for us. Well, cultures, religions, society and family tell us otherwise.

For anyone longing to be the dominant force, communication is the key. You must sit down and talk with your partner, really opening up and being completely uninhibited. When was the last time you told your spouse everything about your fears, longings, needs and desires, no matter how odd they may seem? Stop thinking about everyone else. Be I am totally Hisyou, the best you that you can be.

The concept of domination is about balance in all things. It’s also about nurturing a better life, sparking lost passion. There’s nothing wrong with your needs, but you have to understand others – especially the love of your life. Communication. Patience. Understanding. Forgiveness. These are key words you need to remember. If I’ve learned anything from my research, it’s that the world is a better place for those who think outside the box.

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

 

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Bad to the Bone…

I couldn’t resist the title. There’s something sexy about being oh so bad. Right? A few years ago I wrote a little story that infuses all those kinky desires simmering deep in our souls. There are plenty of book clubs out there, studies of various genres. Erotic romance of course has certainly taken a leap given the popularity of Fifty Shades, but… Every girl has a fantasy. Don’t tell me you don’t. you share with your girlfriends over a glass or two of wine while ogling the hot construction worker just outside the window. When you get a little older, well the hot young guys become a treat for the eyes only. Right? Very wrong. I think you’ll like the first in a collection about women deciding to expand their horizons. Hot off the presses from Booktrope Entice. Take a delicious lick of….

SPICY WHITE CHOCOLATE

“I’m ready for some hot, black ass.”

Shawna Dupres choked and gawked at Marla. The woman was a wild child, and she had to Abram with Tireadmit she loved her to death. “Are we still talking books, or have we started longing for a cabana boy?” She glanced at Desiree who shook her head.

“I suggest a stripper,” Desiree proposed, giving all four girls a mischievous look.

“Can you tell what this morning’s read is going to be like?”

Shawna eyed Cara and smiled as she glanced at the group of highly accomplished and very single women. The Wednesday morning erotica book club, affectionately called the Piranha Girls, had met for about a year. In this time, she’d learned more about kinky sex toys than she ever thought she’d want to know. And in truth, she craved learning and experiencing more. She fought laughter, seeing Georgia’s face. The peach of a girl was just beginning to come into her own.

“How about coffee first?” Georgia suggested.

“What, no Irish cream?” Giggling, Shawna glanced at her watch. It was five o’clock somewhere, right?

“Now, we’re talkin’!” Desiree tossed her dark locks over her shoulder and beckoned to Cara. “You have to have some of the yummy, gooey treat.”

“Should we, this early?” Georgia asked, wide eyed.

Shawna shook her head as she gazed at Georgia. Although the smaller girl was completely shy in everyday life, Georgia had indeed blossomed after mere weeks of joining the group and now brought the most scintillating books for the girls to read. “Live a little, girl.”

Cara grinned, a naughty glint in her eyes as she brought the liquor bottle out from behind her back. “Shawna is oh so right. We need to get this party rolling.”

“Yum-my!” Marla rose to her feet, tilting her hip. “Next time, the club is at my place, so we’ll get really wild. Maybe champagne.”

“Don’t you dare try to one-up me.” Cara laughed as she pointed her finger. “But, no worries, girls. I have another one waiting in the wings, so let’s party and enjoy. We’re wild, saucy, and single, and very hungry! Desiree, will you do the honors while I bring out the extremely wicked gifts?”

“I’ll be happy to. Woot! It’s party time,” the curvy blond cooed as she grinned and grabbed the bottle, her hips swaying to the pulsing music. “Lovin’ this day, ladies!”

“Gifts? What are we celebrating?” Shawna asked, shaking her head. The group was a bit
Dewalt hunkwild, and she loved when they became embroiled in a graphic novel about sex, sex, and more sex.

“One year of our completely unbridled group being together, silly,” Cara purred as she sashayed over to the large cabinet in the corner of her oversized living room. “This is quite an accomplishment for a group of women who could barely manage to have lunch together during all the nasty, life-altering moments of our lives. So, this is indeed a celebration.”

“How about a little mood music to spice things up? I’m feeling like a little Latin vibe to kick up the heat.” The busty brunette jumped to her feet, singing in Spanish as she moved to the stereo system.

“You go, Marla!” Georgia whistled. “Hurry up Desiree and pour. We might have to mix this fest with mimosas.”

“It’s eleven in the morning.” Shawna admonished. Hell, they had served drinks at nine sharp on a summer’s day when they were consoling at least one of their friends over the bastards that had left them, cheated on them, had forgotten to call them, or some other atrocity. Besides, it was going to be a grueling weekend at the restaurant, and she hadn’t yet concocted her saucy, sweet treat. Her customers counted on her creativity with chocolate, some coming in only for her decadent desserts and after-dinner drinks. Unfortunately, her schedule had been way too hectic lately at Sauce and Spice, her brainchild, the restaurant she fought to keep after the divorce. Serving a selection of Cajun creations inspired by her grandmother, it was a hot-and-happening bistro nestled in the heart of the suburbs of Charlotte. Shaking her head, the exhaustion from working seventy hours a week was settling in. Shawna needed a damn vacation.

Or a night with a steamy, hot hunk fulfilling her every fantasy.

“I love champagne,” Georgia mused, giving them all her doe-eyed look.

Cara tossed a pillow in her direction. “You’re such a faker. Get Georgia a shot of tequila.”

The thought alone gave Shawna chills. Georgia certainly didn’t need any shots. After what she’d been through with her wretched ex-boyfriend, the woman was lucky to be alive, let alone indulge in fantasies. If she had the opportunity, she’d cut off the bastard’s dick. “You sure you’re ready to let loose, Georgia?”

“Maybe a little taste?” Georgia asked, rolling her eyes. “And I’ll have you know, I’m a bad girl in disguise.”

The girls laughed as Shawna tsked and wagged her finger. “Be careful, or you might just become a depraved woman.”

“Uh-huh. We’re going to corrupt you yet,” Desiree chuckled as she poured her friends all hefty snifters of the creamy froth and handed them out. “News, girls. I have a date this weekend.”

What? You’ve been holding back, girl! You go,” Marla squealed.

“No fair!” Georgia pouted and took a large sip of the white cream. “Heavenly.”

Shawna groaned. She hadn’t had a date in a good two years, and the last one was nothing short of lackluster. Who knew attorneys could be so damn boring? Remembering the last rather bland evening, she sipped the liquor and wondered if she even knew how to dress for a date with a hunky man. Then again, were there any left in town? Being divorced, successful, and forty-six, some would say she was in the prime of her life. Too bad she was lonely and craved a thick cock buried in her cunt. She wiggled back and forth as a series of quivers dancing inside her pussy forced her to smirk and lick her lips. Hiding behind her glass, she grinned and thought about a young stud using her, filling her, and couldn’t help the fantasizing about a throbbing cock.

“You okay, girlfriend? You look a bit flushed,” Cara observed, setting down a vibrantly colored selection of gift bags on the coffee table.

“I’m just dandy. What do you have there?”

“Hmmm … Georgia, what was the book we all just finished reading?” Cara chided, givingentice-logo-400w Shawna a soulful stare.

“You mean Her Entrance Into Submission?” Georgia asked, grabbing the book out of her bag. Waving it back and forth, she fanned her face. “A blazing hot one here!”

“I’ll say,” Shawna sighed. Perhaps one day, she would experiment with something so completely uninhibited, but for now, she’d settle for being fucked hard and fast. The book was an incredible ride into the moment of true seduction, and she read and re-read several passages until she sliced the butt plug inside her ass, relishing in the true moment of pain. “Tasty words,” she purred, savoring the memory.

“You mean the passage about kneeling for one man, succumbing to his every need? Or the part in the middle where he talked about collaring her, branding her?” Marla asked.

Just hearing the words made Shawna shiver. “All of the above.”

“I’ll say,” Desiree agreed, fanning her face. “The man in that book is every girl’s fantasy.”

“We can talk about perfect men for hours. Ssssooo … lookie here, girls; we need to mix this little circle up a bit,” Cara mused, giving each woman a long, heated stare. She pushed the bags forward toward the group. “Open if you dare.”

“Can you tell the salacious woman has something naughty up her sleeve?” Desiree laughed as she plopped onto the leather easy chair, resting her feet on the end of the coffee table.

Marla leaned over the glass top and picked up one of the bags. “Hmm, it’s heavy. I think the girl is serious. Can we open our treats?”

Cara shook her finger. “Not until we make a secret and what I would consider a very sensual pact.”

“Oh, I like this girl’s style,” Desiree blurted out.

“I have a terrible feeling of apprehension about this,” Shawna demurred, yet she laughed as she gazed down at the colorful bags. Her intuition told her that she was going to love the contents.

“Pact?” Georgia asked. “Do you remember the last time Cara got us into something naughty?”

“Yeah, we almost ended up in jail,” Marla exclaimed.

“But it was damn fun trying to explain to the police officer what the hell we were doing skinny dipping in that very public pool.” Shawna laughed. The memories were sweet, and they had been wild girls in the past. Now, each of them had professions and obligations that kept their sinful sides at bay.

“Woot! Do you remember the look on that poor boy’s face?” Desiree mused.

“I think he wanted to say he would do us all but knew he’d get into trouble.” Georgia added, laughing as she gulped her drink.

“All right, ladies. Here’s the deal. We are young and hip and happening, and we need men, right?” Cara asked, glancing at each one of her friends.

“Hell, you have no idea how much I need a young stud,” Marla cooed.

“That’s exactly my point,” Cara breathed, tipping her head back as she closed her eyes and slid her hand down to the swell of her breasts. “Wild … wanton … crazed … sex!”

Don’t forget to join me on the fabulous book tour too! I hope you enjoyed.

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

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Keep the Lights On…

Are you ready to be scared to death? You know I have many sides as an author, writing in several genres. What I’ve learned to embrace since working with Christian Jensen (an amazing horror author) is that I have a VERY dark side. I love exploring the minds of serial killers and monsters, human or otherwise. In this piece, I unleash my inner beast. We wrote this short story in just a couple of days. We feed off of each other in ways few authors ever work together. I’m thrilled to bring you a terrifying taste, but be very careful, it just might scare…you…to…death! Thank you Booktrope and the Forsaken Imprint for taking such good care and Brenda Gonet for an incredible cover. 

DEMON KILLS

The room was dark, lit only by the six candles that spread a meager, dancing light. Shadows writhed, lovers mingling in the opaque darkness. Outside the sorority house, rainDemon Kills final tapped on the windows and thunder rolled across the night, occasional flashes of lightning giving temporary brilliance to the sky Only Kaitlyn and Amanda had come down to the common room so far, and Adrianna was growing impatient. She twirled her dark hair on a thin finger absently, eyes roving through the dim light, searching out familiar objects. Maybe her edginess was because of the storm, but things felt different in here tonight and she just wanted to get this over with.

“Brittany! Cheryl! Jennifer! Let’s GO!” Her voice carried over the storm, over the stillness of the common room with commanding authority. She was their president, and confident in her leadership, normally. Tonight, however, Adrianna didn’t feel so strong. She secretly wished Kaitlyn hadn’t talked her into this stupid séance, and she absolutely wished Amanda hadn’t discovered the stupid Ouija board in the basement.

The damn thing looked like a piece of trash. The game board was burnt a little around the edges and smeared with dust. The planchette was an old wooden thing that looked like a cross-eyed child had carved strange symbols into it. The letters on the board were hard to distinguish, smudged by some old liquid that had dried in a hazy film. She told the girls the thing was nasty and needed to be trashed, but Amanda swore she could clean the heap of junk.

They’d brought the board up, along with an assortment of other junk the sisters had found for their charity garage sale. Amanda had immediately walked into the kitchen and spent the next two hours meticulously cleaning the board, scrubbing with the dish sponge until the tan surface sparkled. In truth, Amanda had worked with a strange detachment that gave Adrianna the chills. The crazy bitch hadn’t let the thing out of her sight since.

Someone was coming down the stairs. Adrianna could hear the creaking of each step, but the candlelight didn’t permeate into the hallway enough to see who it was. Adrianna grunted in annoyance and tapped her fingernails on the table.

“Let’s go,” she called out into the darkness. No one stepped forward. “What the hell, girls?” She jumped up from her chair, grabbing the cell phone that was such a permanent attachment to her hand, and quickly found the flashlight app. A brilliant shimmer filled the room, the too-bright beam of blueish illumination washing over the furniture. She aimed the light into the hallway, but no one was there.

A cabinet slammed closed in the kitchen, making Adrianna jump. Whoever had come down the stairs must have gone through the hallway and in for a snack. She growled in annoyance and stomped off to intercept the wayward girl. Adrianna really just wanted to get this thing over with. Another minute or two and she’d cancel the whole damn event.

Lightning flashed, bathing the room in blinding light for a brief second. Thunder immediately followed. Adrianna jumped at the sound, cursing under her breath for being such a scared child.

“I told you to hurry up,” Adrianna pushed the swinging kitchen door open and walked over the threshold, her cell phone light leading the way into the empty room. “Let’s g—”

Her heart skipped, the sudden fear making the muscle beat twice as hard. Cold sweat began to form on her face, her body feeling flushed. Outside, the rain intensified, the sound pounding on the roof and washing over the windows growing to a fever pitch. Adrianna clutched the phone tighter as she turned away from the empty kitchen, the beam of light skipping over the wall and illuminating the window, and the face pressed to the outside of the glass.

Adrianna screamed. She dropped the phone and sent it to the floor with a solid thunk! She bent quickly to retrieve it, unsure if she wanted to shine the light back on the window or race away to some unknown safety. Her mind screamed for her to run, but the rational, mature part of her mind chided her for such nonsense. The haunting was probably just one of the frat boys, some immature jackass hoping to catch a peek of the sorority girls having a naked pillow fight or wrestling in pudding between cram sessions for their calculous midterm.

Bad ThingsBut no, Adrianna knew that face didn’t belong to any of the boys on campus. She didn’t think the apparition belonged to a person. The complexion wasn’t pale. The illuminated face was bleached, with large, black eyes and an upturned nose showing cavernous nostrils. The flesh was pulled too tightly over angular features, the chin pointed and forehead elongated. For some reason, she thought the thing looked slimy, the way reptile skin looked in the sun. She knew her thoughts were crazy, but the teeth had looked pointed, the tongue bright red and lolling, impossibly long, and pierced with a heavy metal spike at its center. The longer she thought of the face, the clearer the vision became.

She shook her head, running a trembling hand through raven black hair. She was just on edge. Midterms were this week and her grades had been bad since breaking up with Dylan in October. She wasn’t sleeping right either, the nightmares kept waking her up, nightmares about running through the woods while some unseen terror raced behind her. Adrianna was falling apart, emotionally and physically, and the energy required to pretend she wasn’t had finally taken its toll. She hadn’t seen anything in the window, she hadn’t heard anything in the kitchen, and there was nothing to the stupid Ouija board but wood pulp and paper.

She shone the light directly at the window. Her reflection looked back at her, but nothing else. Grunting with approval, Adrianna headed over to the table. She was exhausted and sick of this stupidity. “Okay Amanda, I’m going to bed. It’s not my fault our sisters didn’t come down.” She used the light from her phone to guide her out of the common room.

“They’re coming,” Amanda said. Her voice was monotone, deeper than it normally was. There was a decisiveness to the words Amanda never had. She was a tall, thin blonde devoid of curves and personality, shy to the point of socially awkward. She whispered when she spoke, and everything came out more as a question, even when she was stating a fact. If Amanda hadn’t been a legacy, the sorority would never have taken her.

“No they’re not.” Adrianna cocked her hip and pointed towards the hallway. “They’re probably all asleep. These girls don’t have any idea how to handle life without electricity.” Adrianna glanced at her phone and saw the battery already showing yellow. Her iPhone would be dead by morning if the lights didn’t come on soon. She felt like a lifeline was slipping through her fingers, the rope cutting into the skin as she tried to hold on tight. It was a strange, fleeting sensation and Adrianna had no idea where the nasty power came from.

They walked through the gloom of darkness, melting out of the shadows as noiseless as ghosts. Adrianna jumped in surprise when Brittany stepped into the room, seemingly appearing out of thin air. Cheryl and Jennifer were right behind her, each of them staring blankly to the Ouija board as though it was the only thing in the room.

“Where the hell were you sluts?” Adrianna sighed, trying to gain some of her usual demeanor back. She’d been on edge ever since they found that stupid toy tucked away in the rafters. She didn’t even understand how Kaitlyn had seen the game all the way up there. She was the shortest of the group, a cute little redhead with shocking turquoise eyes and a petite figure with just a hint of curves. She was loud and brash most of the time, but when she found the Ouija board, she’d taken on a kind of reverence for the thing. She’d been intensely quiet ever since.

They all gathered around the round table, each of the girls finding a seat without looking. Theirs was a practiced maneuver, synchronized like a dance move. Adrianna didn’t know what was going on, but she was beginning to think her sisters were playing some kind of prank on her. They just happened to get lucky with the storm, but everything else had been set up. One of the girls snuck down the stairs before and ran into the kitchen. They slammed the cabinet door, and then waited for Adrianna to go into the kitchen before rushing back upstairs. Another one of the girls put on the stupid mask and waited at the window, making just enough noise to get her attention. Now they were acting like they were possessed or something.

She was actually proud of them. There’d been a lot of teamwork and preparation to pull something like this off, but the prank had gone far enough. If they were pulling this shit on someone outside of the sorority house it would be different, but Adrianna didn’t like being the butt of the joke. She was their leader, damn it.

“Okay bitches, I think this silliness has gone long enough.” Adrianna was the only one standing. All of the girls were sitting patiently, their hands at their sides and eyes locked on that stupid board. It was a game, a kid’s toy. So what if they made horror movies about a supposed connection to demons? The thing was nothing but a board game for bored kids to scare each other with. “You got me pretty good. I’m proud of the teamwork sisters, but enough is enough. I need to go study.”

She waited for a second, expecting the girls to all start giggling and teasing her, but no one moved. She shrugged her shoulders and turned to leave.

“Sit down.” Amanda’s voice commanded. Her demanding tone was as far out of character as possible and Adrianna felt a sudden icy hand grip her insides. They’d spent years trying to get the girl out of her shell, and none of them had ever heard her voice over a normal level. They’d all surmised Amanda was incapable of yelling, her vocal chords simply not able to handle something so forceful.

“Damn girl, when did you get so much base in you—”

“Sit down,” Amanda repeated, her voice deepening to the point of masculinity.

“Sit down,” Kaitlyn said, in nearly the same voice.

“Sit down,” The other girls repeated in perfect unison.

There was only one chair left in the circle, and Adrianna couldn’t think of anywhere she demonswanted to sit less. Her heart was pounding, the sound of her pulse rushing through her ears. Her face was hot, her hands were cold and slick with sweat. She wanted to turn and run, but the memory of her nightmare kept her rooted to the spot.

Darkness, broken only by the occasional flash of blueish lightning, made everything in the room look ominous, haunting. Trees were everywhere, branches grabbing at her hair and clothes. Rain poured down on her in a relentless shower that fell with such fury the pinging sensations actually hurt. Mud oozed between her toes with every step. Terrified, Adrianna rushed through the black forest, her insides turning to ice. She could hear the demon behind her, some faceless evil that wanted to destroy her. The fetid, hot breath of the thing ran down her spine, urging her to go faster. Her lungs and legs burned with a fierce intensity that begged her to stop, but her mind and heart screamed to just run.

You can’t hide from me…

Adrianna shook the memory out of her head. How could a dream seem so real and inhabit the mind as a memory? Adrianna thought she could ask her psychology professor from last year, but after he asked her out and she so brutally turned him down…probably not going to happen.

“Listen, it’s getting late and I ne—”

“SIT DOWN!” The voice had come from all around her. None of the girls had opened their mouths. None of them had moved. Adrianna flinched, ducking and wrapping her arms over her chest. She was suddenly aware of how cold the room had become. Her nipples puckered tight, goose bumps rising on her arms and legs. She looked around the room with wide, terrified eyes, but saw nothing in the darkness. Adrianna whimpered, but remained where she was. Somehow she knew that taking that seat would be a very bad idea.

“Adrianna,” Kaitlyn turned her head, eyes perfectly white and staring. “If you don’t sit down he’s going to kill you. Your slaughter won’t be a quick death, and just might last for all eternity. He’s a master at things like that, so I say this with all the love in my heart…sit the fuck down before I break your neck.” Kaitlyn giggled like a little girl. “I’ll do it because I love you. Snapping your bones between my fingers is much better than what he’ll do to you. So much better.”

“So much better.” The other girls said in unison.

Adrianna wanted to turn and run. She was faster than the other girls, stronger than all of them. She had been on the track and field team since high school. Her legs were thick with muscle, her arms tight and strong. She could get out of here. She could run. All she needed to do was get into the kitchen and out the back door.

Something massive crashed in the kitchen. The entire house shook, plaster dust raining down around the light fixtures, hitting the flame of one of the candles and sparking crazily. Adrianna snapped her head in the direction of the kitchen door, all hope fading fast. Her head shot to the window, eyes locked on the moving shadows that seemed to rush at the glass, hands made of the inky blackness pressing to it and then retreating, spectral, pallid faces peering in and retreating too fast to focus on.

All the oxygen was pulled from the room. A cyclone of alien emotions whipped around, ripping the heat from the very air. Adrianna shivered, her breath coming out as ghostly vapor. She was freezing, yet sweat dripped down her cheeks, leaving a burning chaotic line against the perfect skin. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. This was too much. The girls couldn’t have done all of this. Something was very wrong here and Adrianna didn’t want to know what evil lurked in the shadows. She just wanted to wake up in her bed, screaming the terror away.

The nightmare is real. The nightmare is…

She closed her eyes, crushing the lids together and forcing her heart to slow, her breathing to go back to normal. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. She was going to open her eyes and she’d be in her bed, covers twisted around her and pillow hugged tightly to her chest.

She opened her eyes.

The devil looked back at her, laughing hysterically.

What do you think? Hungry for more? 

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

http://www.amazon.com/Demon-Kills-Cassandre-Dayne-ebook/dp/B0117RHAHU/

Posted in Booktrope, EDGE, Forsaken, horror, paranormal, thriller | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

My Special Guest… Michael-Israel Jarvis

I love having guest authors on my site and today is an author I’ve recently met through talking in a room for the Forsaken Imprint of Booktrope. He’s funny, ultra talented and a new friend. I’m proud to present…

Michael-Israel Jarvis

Unreal Realities and the Characters from Which They’re Made

When you’re writing fantasy, as I do, there’s a question that must be addressed early on; what kind of reality am I aiming for? Fantasy is the Unreal, but that makes no difference. Readers expect a world and its people to be consistent unto themselves. This doesn’t mean that all fantasy fiction should be spun from the cloth of G.R.R. Martin’s gritty, historically-sourced tapestry. There’s more to realising a world than filling it with shit, blood and atrocity (though that certainly works).

A written world can be surreal whilst still being utterly consistent, like Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman graphic novels, or parodic yet truthful, like the Discworld series by the sainted Sir Terry Pratchett. They can be as insane as George Miller’s Mad Max movies, as long as that insanity permeates the fabric of the world thoroughly; as long as it becomes a natural fact of the space and culture it describes.

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I could blather on for days about world-building. The topography, the systems of magic, the cultures, languages and religions. And that’s all great. It’s the mashed potato and gravy Michael Picof fantasy world-building. But the meat, the chicken-fried steak, or say, the British bangers, is in the characters themselves. They’re beasts of their environment, proofs that all the rest has been well founded. And if they don’t fit that environment, if their dialogue is misplaced or ill-chosen (or just crap) then you’ve lost. Lost the reader, lost the palette and texture of the whole damn thing, never mind how pretty your coastlines look or how many cities you’ve named.

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Caption: Bangers and Mash: Britain on a plate [recommend cropping the bottom out slightly]

Building your characters out of the clay of their world is complex, and there are too many factors to consider here. One thing you can do though is discover their flaws. Following are some suggested options, rated according to their potential impact on character and plot, and for riskiness. Don’t take these too seriously, eh?

Alcoholism—High impact, low risk

A classic. Overly employed to flesh out detectives and police officers in the crime genre, this vice still has the means to impact a character heavily. In fact, if it doesn’t have serious effects, it’s being misused as a character flaw. Real people lose family members, livelihoods and even their lives to this kind of addiction. If your character doesn’t struggle similarly, you’re wasting the trait. If you’re playing the flaw for laughs, you should probably fuck off and have a rethink. Not because of the offence you might cause, but because it’s lazy, shitty writing.

Misogyny/Racism—High impact, high risk

This can be brilliant as an indicator of a character’s independent existence. Various constructions of prejudice seem to be a common thing for people; even the ones who are mindful and willing to fight unfairness. So the same should be true in fantasy. The risk is that whether or not readers are fully conscious of the issues, these days they are very conscious of the outrage that follows overt racism or misogyny. This means that you could alienate your reader from the character who holds such views. However, it’s a challenge worth accepting. Racists and misogynists are not pure evil. They’re the result of inculcated societal values and ignorance. If your written society features these kinds of bigotry, then there’s a good chance that your characters will exhibit that bigotry too. Even the protagonists. Resolving this kind of flaw is a challenge, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile.

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Pride/Arrogance—Variable impact, low risk

We’re used to prideful and arrogant antagonists, so I’d beware employing this flaw as a cliché. Certainly don’t make it their downfall, if you do apply it to a bad guy, because that’s really boring. Protagonists with overwhelming egos can be fun, if not overplayed. Unlikeable arrogance can be a great way to balance the traits of a character who might otherwise be too goody-goody. But beware the trap of hubris. Not all protagonists need to be Greek heroes.

Mental Illness—High impact, variable risk

Be careful, be respectful, assume your own ignorance at all times. That being said, there are very few characters in fantasy fiction who suffer from mental disorders or illnesses (being generically “mad” doesn’t count) so this is potentially a brilliant flaw to burden a character with, especially a protagonist. Carelessly applying this trait to antagonists would be lazier, and risks reinforcing stigma, but it’s not impossible, and could be humanising if done in the right way. If you’re going for a fictional mental illness of your own making, just be sure to root it in credible psychology.

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Murderer—Moderate impact, low risk

Violence and murder don’t have as much moral judgement attached to them as they used Michael pic 2 south_park_cartman-1045to. In fantasy, they’re more or less expected elements. As a result, readers can pretty readily shrug off a terrible murder in the past of a character, even if they’re the hero. Therefore, if you’re going with this as backstory or as a recurring trait, don’t let them. Properly confront the reader with the reality of a character that is capable of taking another person’s life outside the context of combat or survival. Drive those consequences so hard into the reader that they bleed. Oh, and by the way, antagonists that don’t murder people are more unusual and interesting.

Paedophilia—High impact, extreme risk

Woah. What? This got dark all of a sudden. So, to be very, very clear, I’m talking about the serious psychosexual disorder, not crimes against children that may happen as a result of said disorder. This flaw would give a character an unpreventable attraction towards pre-pubescent children, but it does not need to mean that the character has ever acted on their impulses. This is an extreme exercise in putting yourself in the mind of a character, and a pretty nightmarish one at that. However, if handled sensitively and fearlessly, this type of character trait could break ground in the genre. Don’t just use this flaw to monsterise your antagonist—this is a problem that occurs in human beings. If your antagonist has this flaw, make it a part of his or her humanity. How do they approach the situation? Do they struggle, fail, succeed?

If you give this flaw to a protagonist, congratulations, you’ve set yourself one hell of a challenge. I wish you luck. If you succeed, you might win awards. If you misjudge their characterisation, you’re going to get hate. Lots of hate.

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Cowardice—Moderate impact, moderate risk

It’s been done, but there are still ways to explore this. Again, this is a flaw that’s probably more interesting in a protagonist than in a villain. Theirs some wriggle-room here as well, cowardice could mean that a character is easily overwhelmed by their fear, or it could mean that when presented with threat, they take the most self-serving route to ensure their survival—at the cost of other characters. A trait that, like others listed here, could be interesting as part of a character arc, where the flaw is eventually overcome.

Well, I hope this got some conversations going. If you’d like to discuss these ideas or vociferously argue with me, get in the comments section. I’m also available at my website and blog www.MichaelIsraelJarvis.com, where I post weekly. A big thank you to Cassandre Dayne for giving me this opportunity.

Power to your art.

Thank you so much for being here! 

Kisses and Spanks…

Cassandre

Posted in Booktrope, Fantasy, Forsaken | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Domestic Discipline…Based in Christianity?

Good question. What do you believe?

As many of you know, I write quite a lot about spanking, including pieces regarding Domestic Discipline and D/s (Domination and submission). I’ve been highly criticized lately by those who seem to forget that domestic discipline is based in Christianity or CDD (Christian Domestic Discipline). When I started researching the concept, I honestly was Know the differencenot aware that the practice had indeed been going on in households for centuries, not just decades. Although the exercise isn’t widely used in places like the United States, the popularity is growing. For any naysayers who scoff that this is Christian based. Here’s a snippet from the website www.christiandomesticdiscipline.com

“The Causation for Disciplining Your Wife

Men and women are different. But we often just gloss over what those most crucial differences are. Yes, men and women are different physically, and also men and women think differently. But what we often fail to recognize is than men and women sin differently. Men have sin struggles that are typical of men and almost alien to women. Likewise, women struggle with sins that men may not even recognize as being sin issues. Here’s a bare-bones sketch of the dynamics:

  • Women by their peculiar sin nature resist earthly authority and trust.
  • Women will seek earthly security at the expense of emotional and/or spiritual security.

Let’s look at the first one a bit. This is a classic Genesis 3 classification. Women seek to usurp their husbands’ authority by the nature of the Fall. Due to the same Fall, men seek to allow this to happen. The root of this is trust, or rather a lack of it. Indeed, this very nature in women is the single least common denominator in the “equal rights movement”, i.e. Feminism. Were women born naturally with the inclination to trust, Feminism would not exist. Understand that I’m not speaking about trusting in the Lord, for this is something that only the Holy Spirit can bring about, in either man or woman. Rather, that any woman, regenerate or otherwise, will struggle with trusting any earthly authority, be it ecclesiastical, familial or other authority.”

Fascinating, don’t you think? The site goes on speaking to the application process, how to and what implements to use, how often and the basic positions. Here’s a sentence that honestly made me chuckle.

“First, do not attempt to discipline your wife without first going to the Lord in prayer. No man alone is wise enough, and we must seek the Lord when faced with discipline issues.”

I’m not certain if the Christian family of today sees the concept of husband and wife the same way, but I can tell you that I’ve spoken to many couples and they believe in the lifestyle whole-heartedly. Why? Because their marriage was failing, as so many do in our given day and time. Life as a couple doesn’t seem to be like it used to be. I’m no expert in A single touchrelationships, but with divorce rates skyrocketing over the last two decades, something is going seriously wrong in relationships. Several men and women have opened up about their reasons for choosing the DD lifestyle, including the successes and failures. For the majority, they didn’t come to the acceptance or decision easily. They talked, cried together, tried various other methods to save their marriage then embraced the fact they were headed for divorce without a significant change. For so many couples who made the modification, the number one comment they all made to me was how much stronger their relationships became. They laughed more and the angry words and nasty battles were almost non-existent. When differences came up, they learned the skills to talk through the issue or the HOH (Head of Household) took matters into his own hands. Discipline is a huge part of the lifestyle. This doesn’t just include spankings as a form of punishment. Of course there are other methods, but what the site calls “lashings” are an important facet.

“A sound lashing is five to ten strokes with your hand, or three to five strokes with a strap; some wives need more. To avoid bruising do not strike the same area in repetition. Gauge your decision to proceed based on your wife’s readiness to repent.”

Again, fairly interesting words. Repent. Guilt. In talking with happy and unhappy couples, there seems to be a constant thread, they’re both fighting to be the top dog. Whether most men and women want to admit this or not, we all jockey to “win” whether in our professional or personal life. We’ve been trained through our experiences to fight for everything, including love. Having two leaders in any given situation can certainly be a recipe for disaster. Guilt is a part of intense emotions women feel – men too of course. I don’t like disappointing my guy, but it happens. Repenting for disobeying? Right versus wrong? That’s a core portion of our very being. I’ve heard from some women, those believing in total equality in a relationship, who think that women who submit in this fashion are weak.

This couldn’t be further from the truth. The fact is that many powerful women want to give up control and I doubt there’s a single woman who doesn’t crave a happy home. Do you honestly think a lion’s share of women (or men either) prefer a disjointed and negative household in which the majority of the time is spent fighting? One would hope not. Women are generally loving, giving creatures to a fault and while we can be manipulative, if you ask a single girl, she’ll tell you she likes a strong man. This doesn’t just include in the bedroom. Ask yourself this question, what type of hero on television or in books do you Submissive Lovegravitate toward? The wimpy guy who never takes control or the rough-rider who dominates the scene? You and I both know the answer. In saying this, do not think men who prefer to be the HOH are abusive in any manner. If they are the relationship needs to end immediately. DD, D/s, BDSM is NOT about abuse. That’s something I can’t say enough or get into the heads of those involved in strictly vanilla relationships. Abuse is sick and destructive. Drop the loser if his control takes you to that level immediately.

However domestic discipline has proven to be successful in many downtrodden situations. Let’s face it kids, relationships really can be difficult. The bottom line to any should be about love, but when life intervenes from sickness to troubles with family and careers, simply finding time to enjoy why you fell in love is tough. There’s no perfect method to fix what might be broken or to keep the verve in a relationship. The practice of domestic discipline works for many who embrace the concept.

Living your life the way you want is a God given right, whether you’re Christian or believe or don’t believe in religion. I’m just giving you something to think about and perhaps a heady discussion in your household.

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

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