Spanking…Controlled and Refined

Is there such a thing? In various relationships that include the practice, there certainly needs to be. You know I’m an advocate of the concept, especially in marriages etc. The aspect of one having control, allowing for a more harmonious situation, intrigues the hell out of me. Of course I’ve explored this topic in stories that include the corporal environment. Imagine if a business associate simply can’t follow rules. Time after time they’ve bucked the regulations required by their employer. While placing a wayward employee on probation is often used, does this really curtail their generally bad behavior? Take a minute to think about the one colleague that always gets into trouble and seems to InterrogatingControl_medcome out unscathed. Don’t you want to scream at your boss for allowing this person to get away with undermining the entire company?

Of course you do. You might’ve even thought about various methods of showcasing their foibles, pushing your boss to do the right thing. Very often companies look the other way. This does nothing for camaraderie within the organization. I’ve experienced situations in which I would LOVE for the individual to receive direct and clear punishment – and in front of the entire group. I know. This seems a bit harsh, right? But what if…

Let’s talk about if corporal punishment was not only allowed but also encouraged within the ranks of our corporate world. I can honestly envision a better working environment. Men and women who rage against the machine rob from productivity. They often bully their way to the top, demanding respect, while refusing to follow the basic game plan or mission set out by the company. This doesn’t bode well for continued day-to-day activities or the ability to work together well.

So what if there were additional consequences if behavior didn’t improve? Hmmm… In my mind, this is an incredible thought. Try and think about a new set of rules and regulations where various punishments were listed for serious infractions. A hard spanking on this list might be just the ticket to change bad behavior.

Several years ago, I penned a story called Spankdown. I wrote the piece kind of tongue in cheek and readers liked the rather avant garde aspect. So Spank Me was created. The same characters are in the collection. In the series, a college professor has an alternate life. She not only writes blogs on spanking within relationships of every type, she longs to have a Dom in command of her every day life. Veronica is highly intelligent, very sensuous and generally straight laced. She has to be in the world of education. But in her other life she offers spankings to corporations and individuals. Can you imagine?

In Veronica’s world, she doles out discipline in a very refined and controlled manner. The client signs a contract and the Dom she’s hired provides the needed punishment, no matter the infraction. I admit, I had so much fun writing the collection. I have two that are out already, other than Spankdown, with a third in pre-release published by Naughty Nights Press. Let’s take a look at the world of corporal punishment.

SPANK ME – INTERROGATING CONTROL

“We can do this the hard way if you’d like, Mr. Sabatini. I have no problem with throwing your ass in jail and letting you rot like the piece of shit you are.” There were times Jensen Cavanaugh amazed herself. She could tell the self-proclaimed ‘Italian Stallion’ was sweating in his boots by the single tick in the corner of his mouth. She’d been hunting the assassin for months, vying the odds. She alone had taken him down.

“You can’t talk to me that way, bitch.”

“Lester, I can call you Lester can’t I? Of course I can. We’re getting to be so close, you and I.” Leaning down, she came within two inches of his face, allowing him a whiff of her exotic perfume. A little jiggle more and she could actually show off her cleavage, exaggerated by her very expensive Victoria’s Secret Push Up Bra. “Lester, I can talk to you any way I want and why?” She gave him one quick look before standing to her full six-foot height, placing her hands on her hips.

Submittign the strap“You ain’t gonna goad me,” Lester growled, then licked his lips as he sat forward in his chair. “Besides, you hunger for a man like me. A real man.”

Jensen gave him a look before nodding toward the reflective background. “I suggest you rethink your actions, or in about thirty seconds there’s going to be just about five officers of the law coming through that door. Trust me, when they do, there won’t be any additional questions asked. They’ll simply throw your sorry ass in jail until the sun don’t shine no longer, boy.”

“Boy? Why, I outta…” The sentence remained unfinished. He snarled, then sat back, grumbling under his breath. “Fucking bitch.”

She heard the words. “Seems like you and I need to get our facts straight. You get what I’m saying, Lester?”

“I don’t know anything. I’ve told you that several times. You arrested the wrong guy.”

“I don’t think so. From what I’ve heard, you planned the entire operation, and you were spotted smack in the middle of the crime scene. Your picture in blazing color. I can even see the prized tattoo you wear with pride, the one you almost always cover up. Well, I guess you forgot to hide your artistry on one gorgeous afternoon. The sun was shining. Not a cloud in the sky.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

She didn’t need to see the beads of perspiration trickling down the back of his neck. She could smell the stench of too much garlic and cigarettes oozing from his pores. “The camera tells no lie. Your gorgeous ‘tat’ is captured in vivid color, and I can tell the shot is just seconds before you pulled out the gun, slipped the silencer on the end and…” Jensen purposely allowed the words to linger. “Then slowly pulled the trigger. Bang. Bang!” While he didn’t physically jump, she could tell her repertoire garnered his full attention.

He narrowed his eyes then flexed his hands. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“I think I do. Tell me about Jarvis Gungston. Tell me how you shot him down in cold blood. Explain to me how we found his DNA all over your apartment. Careless, leaving any trace of evidence. You getting soft, big boy?” Yes, that certainly caught him. She decided to push the envelope. Why the hell not? “Tell me how you hunted him down, terrified his family, then proceeded to kill him in broad daylight without so much as an ounce of remorse.”

“You think you scare me, bitch?”

“I know I do, and when I’m finished with you there won’t be anyone who can or will help you. In fact, I might throw you to the dogs you’re working for as being a snitch,” Jensen gave him a huge smile.

“You whore! That fucker deserved to die. I just helped out God.” Lester wrapped his hand around her throat, squeezing.

She wheezed, her air stolen, but kept her grin as the Calvary arrived. Within seconds, Lester was on the ground, his hands behind his back in handcuffs. Coughing, she took a giant stride back and brushed both hands through her hair. As she was regaining her composure, in walked her boss, the new Captain everyone was raving about.

“Agent Cavanaugh, I believe you’ve done enough.”

His voice was stern, but the twang in the tone had the same effect as it had the first day she met the rough-hewn man. Her pussy was quivering. “Captain Denton. I think we have enough to hold him.”

The Captain sauntered all the way into the room, shaking his head as he looked down at the flailing man. “The truth is, I think your interrogation might be challenged in any court of law.”

“Excuse me? I was just doing my job,” Jensen retorted, her voice holding the same edge she used with Lester. She immediately backed down when her new Captain gave her a pointed look. She knew little about Riley Denton’s background, other than he’d been transferred in from Denver and was touted to be a crack shot as well as a master of collecting evidence. A damn cowboy had taken her promotion, the one she’d worked for fifteen years to achieve. In her eyes he was arrogant, opinionated, and perhaps the sexiest man she’d ever met. She’d fantasized about him every night since day one. Turning away, she cringed as heat rose up from her neck to her cheeks. Damn! She loathed any weakness, including lusting after a man she could never have.

Riley advanced toward the officers, peering down. “Take Mr. Sabatini to lock up. I’ll finish the interrogation my way.”

His way? Jensen bit her tongue. Haughty bastard. Didn’t he realize her skills were legendary?

“Yes, sir,” one of the officers said as he hoisted the prisoner to his feet.

Lester struggled and managed to turn in her direction. “Trust me, bitch. You and I ain’t Submitting reflectiondone yet.”

“I look forward to it, Lester. Very much so,” Jensen said with confidence. She maintained her wide smile until he was pulled out of the room. Her grin fading, she exhaled and wiped her hands down the front of her pants. “Sweaty asshole.”

Riley moved in front of her, his expression remaining bland. “You and I need to have a serious talk about your attitude.”

“My attitude?”

“Correction, your surly attitude. Be in my office in five minutes.” Riley raised a single eyebrow then walked out the door.

The sound of his boots echoing on the tile floor made her pussy clench. Why did this particular man get to her? Okay, she hadn’t been with a hunk sexually in over two years, but why now? Perhaps his shaggy blond hair and the fact he refused to take her crap was one reason. Then, the way he wore his way too-tight black jeans when everyone else wore suits was another. Riley Denton was his own man. God! She wanted to hate him.

After checking her watch, she walked out of the interrogation room, passing by several other agents. The sneers on their faces were always the same. Why should she care? She was damn good at her job, the best in the agency. She refused to allow anyone to get under her craw.

Jensen heard laughter, the kind muffled after contrite words spewed about her. She shook her head and walked into her office. Office? What she had was a glorified cube, the same one she’d called her own for over ten years. So much for advancement.

She waited until the last second before walking down the long hallway toward Riley’s corner office. The trek reminded her she should be the one in charge, commanding the agents. Her nerves on edge, she stood outside his door for a full minute before knocking.

“Come.”

Even the sound of his voice, husky and full of a sensuous vibe, turned her on. She cleared her throat and plastered on a smile. There was no way she was going indicate how nervous she was. “You asked to see me?”

“You asked to see me, sir,” Riley said without looking at her. He flipped through a file, turning page after page. “Close the door.”

I hope you’ve enjoyed…

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

PURCHASE LINKS

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-interrogatingcontrol-1870323-147.html

http://www.amazon.com/Interrogating-Control-Spank-Me-Book-ebook/dp/B013R8ZV0K/

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Discipline Therapy Within D/s

I was scrolling through messages on my phone yesterday and an entry caught my eye. You may have heard of things like Boot Camp within the BDSM world. Discipline Therapy kinda caught me by surprise. What in the world does this truly mean? I actually did a Google search to see what came up and the page filled with aspects and definitions of D/s and BDSM. There are plenty of Wikipedia notes on various methods of Hands cuffedplay and safety, but little of nothing on this topic. However, there are selections about hiring someone within the lifestyle.

One can certainly hire a Dominatrix to discipline a very bad submissive. There are those who advertise they’ll punish bad subbies for a price. What I find interesting is that when you delve into what these services entail, there’s an awful lot of women in powerful positions offering to punish wicked men. That is not at all what I’m talking about. I read a little deeper into the thread on Fetlife and realized that many couples are unsure about the concept of discipline after they decide to move into more of a D/s relationship. From what I read, the Dom in particular was asking about help with his submissive, what he called a very willful woman. I had to laugh given I’ve heard this about a zillion times out of JP’s mouth before. There are some women I believe who are truly understanding of their needs and embrace their submissive side early on. Then there are those who’ve lived a very vanilla life, many as the top dog in both their professional and personal life, realizing late they’ve been living behind a mask.

I think truly submitting to anyone at this point is going to be a very LONG personal journey, one fraught with bouts of nasty words, tantrums and anger between the new D/s couple. I can’t say JP and I had fights, but I certainly pulled at the reins almost every day. Why? Because your innate behavioral tendencies come out when you’re pushed. If you’ve been a very strong personality for forty years, do you really think a change will happen in a few weeks or months? Not a snowball’s chance in Hell.

I think this is where the idea of Boot Camp came into play. When JP and I were doing research on the lifestyle in general, he ran into an organization that travels and provides a convention type weekend to couples in D/s. They held seminars, both sharing together and specific courses slated for Dom’s or submissives. We read the specifics and were intrigued. There are plenty of kink conventions that provide vendors selling everything from spanking implements and sex toys to classes on how to use a flogger or the safe use of electro-pay. This particular intrinsic seminar is truly about growing together as a couple.

As I’ve mentioned in many blogs, you don’t simply decide one day to mix up your In my collarrelationship, going from vanilla where all things are equal to a total power exchange. If you think you can, you’re wrong. The conversations needed, the time spent delving into each other’s psyche and the breaking down of conventional thinking is daunting. While the change can perhaps save a marriage, the work involved is time consuming and very personal. Will well developed seminars, shared experiences and methods used that are tried and true help? I’m honestly not sure. In writing many of my stories, I’ve tried to show my readers the very intense emotions personified as both the man and women (or same sex couples) have as they begin their journey. The raw and frank nature of the switch is rather cathartic, but also draining. I’ve read about boot camps and there are plenty of mixed reviews as to whether they work.

The basics are simply to have an extremely intense weekend or week-long session in which very drastic changes are made. Punishments for any infractions occur generally several times a day. I’ve read where the submissive is kept naked for this extended period of time, every aspect of decisions entirely made by the Dom. I’m using a m/f Dom/submissive situation here, but of course this can be reversed or same sex. The submissive in this case must ask permission to do everything including going to the bathroom or having a drink of water. The power exchange is often one where she receives several spankings a day, merely to make certain the submissive begins to understand he is in control. I’ve read various blogs and had conversations with couples who’ve gone through this. In her mind, a few days of this very dramatic training can begin to break down the equal walls, but only if both parties are ready to accept and embrace the change.

If a couple is new to the lifestyle, I’m not certain this would work. Every couple is different of course, but re-training or re-programming is truly about the mind. Being required to sit naked at his feet, have privileges denied and receiving dozens of spankings aren’t going to change our basic deep-seeded instincts. We all have a strong will to survive and to be our own person. Society and our upbringing, teachers and friends, as well as our professional lives indoctrinate us, forming and molding the person we are today. Do you really think a weekend or a week of something entirely different is going to change one’s mental state? Think about a bad habit. Some experts say bad habits can be changed in two weeks, like smoking. If you’ve ever been a smoker, I doubt you’ll say two weeks of abstinence is enough.

Being the person we are isn’t a bad habit. Our personality is formed at an early age, our desires and our mental and physical needs forming over time. How in the world is a single session, no matter how dominating and demanding, going to change who we are inside? Yes, you have to want this change, NEED to unfurl the mask, rip away the darkness you’ve hidden behind. That’s the first step, but we’re all cautious of change. The older we get, the serenity07060_bf365etougher it is to be something else. I could no more change my assertive/aggressive side all the time than I could needing to breathe. I just can’t. That’s the willful side of me, the woman who needs to be in a top level position. Butting heads would always occur. Would there be consequences to pay, such as various forms of punishment? You bet, but do you think that’s going to somehow break down those walls? No way.

That’s the crux of some couples when they try and move into more of a D/s situation. This is also why the entire shift is called a journey. Some take years, if not a lifetime, to get to a very comfortable and easy way between them. Some give up after time, going back to a more traditional role. Others mentally envelop the change as one being a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Can talking with professionals, or long term lifestylers help? Absolutely, but every couple takes the initial steps and every one after as their mentally and emotionally can given their respective circumstances. There is no magic book or training session that will be a perfect fit.

I do believe that various activities have to change. I also believe that the Dom must take control, but he has to know what’s going to work for his lady. He must unlock the chains that she has had around her for her entire life. That’s not easy. In order to do so, he has to unleash his personal demons and fears. Imagine the concept. I believe training and new routines are vital, but a boot camp or discipline therapy? There’s no one right way, no methods that are perfected. Communication, trust and the willingness to take baby steps are really the best method, at least from what I’ve seen.

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

Posted in BDSM, Domestic Discipline, Domination and submission, Spanking | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Imagine the Perfect Submissive…

What lengths would you go to secure a lovely woman you could call your own? In the world of D/s, of course submissives are trained to follow orders, obey commands and they lovingly do so. What if you were shy or had no idea how to meet women, let alone had the courage to enter into a dominating relationship? What if you only cared to have the perfect sub for a limited period of time? You could certainly go to a kink club, one catering to alternative lifestyles, but how about in the privacy of your own home?

I’m turning into a bit of a dark girl as far as my writing is concerned. I find I prefer penning thrillers and gory horror more than a basic frothy erotic piece. Perhaps I’m growing as an author – or… Perhaps my rather evil side is surfacing. We all have layers buried deep within our psyche, hungers often we simply can’t explain and certainly won’t discuss. But what if you can explore without fear of condemnation?

I’m writing a hot thriller that allows my readers to live vicariously through the world of 1Power Exchangesubmission for hire. Is there such a thing? I will bet there is, although certainly this is probably frowned on for various reasons, including safety and trust. However, my guess is the concept exists somewhere in the wide world of sex and BDSM. Granted, the piece is a gritty look, a thrill ride into the unknown. I honestly love mixing erotic with the thriller genre and I think it satiates my rather complex personality. I hope you enjoy a taste of…

SUBMISSIVE FOR HIRE

Evil lurks within the dark bowels of our very minds, hungering to breech the surface.

“Yes?” Trixie answered the phone with little inflection.

“Is this Trixie?” His words were barely audible.

“It is.” Sighing, she kept the tone of her voice guttural, sensual in a way every man appreciated. She loathed the stage name, reminiscent of a call girl or floozy, but the pseudonym had stuck from the first time she’d entered the kink club.

“Excellent. You come highly recommended. Your skills are legendary.”

Sighing, she filled her glass of wine, taking a sip before walking toward the window. As she eased her finger under the blind, lifting until she could clearly see the dimly lit street, she debated whether she was in the mood to work. She’d grown weary of various clients and their sadistic desires. However, she had a reputation to uphold, one securing her time spent with very special clientele, men whose needs few could tolerate. For this alone she was paid extremely well. Money she needed. “I am the best at what I do and I’m paid handsomely. I hope you understand. I refuse to tolerate any bullshit.”

His laugh was husky. “They also mentioned you were formidable. I appreciate the attitude, although when in my realm, you’ll be expected to follow orders.”

Trixie’s eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. For a few seconds she remained quiet as she scanned her surroundings. The neighborhood was pristine in nature, rules infractions simply not acceptable. She’d selected carefully, preferring to come and go without notice. She hadn’t made friends, never attended a neighborhood gathering or ridiculous barbeque, but the serene setting allowed her anonymity. No one knew about her nightly activity. No one ever would. “Who is your contact?”

“Mistress Jade.”

The man certainly had connections. He’d passed various requirements so he had money, clout and was known in various circles. “Very well. My fee is ten thousand dollars for three hours. I trust you’ll have cash.”

“Of course.”

“Thirty minutes. Do you have special instructions?” She could hear his rapid breath sounds and sighed. Men who had little control she had zero respect for.

“Wear a red bra and matching thong, stilettos and a black rain coat.”

“Done. What is your name?” Trixie could care less. They never gave their real name or any correct information. Anonymity was also important for her clients. Of course she knew who the majority of them were, their positions in society. She never divulged information, which is one of the reasons she was so highly recommended. She raised the blinds until she had a direct view of the street.

“Wally.”

Heels and Cuffs“Give me your address, Wally.” There was no need to write anything down. Her memory was perfect, allowing her to recollect every Dom as well as his or her particular proclivities. She spoiled them and in turn, they paid her well for her complete submission.

“Come prepared, sweet slut.”

“I always do, Sir.” When she hung up the phone she palmed the glass, exhaling slowly. The nights were becoming endless.

Thirty minutes later she eased her Mercedes into the driveway where Wally lived. Massive brick columns flanked the aggregate stone, ancient trees lining the long pathway. She hesitated before continuing on, her gut churning. Normally she’d have spent a solid two hours on the Internet, affirming the identity of the person she would hand over a heightened level of trust. This time she wasn’t afforded the luxury. Mistress Jade was the single reason she was here.

Rounding a corner, she wasn’t surprised at the house or the surroundings. Her clients were all wealthy. Their worth, clout and special hungers prevented them from securing normal relationships. Then again, none wanted formal attachments, preferring to hire a professional in order to feed their desires.

As she climbed out of her car she studied the perimeter. Even in the darkness she could tell the lawn and surrounding landscape was meticulously groomed. No one knew what went on behind closed doors. The thought gave her a smile. She adjusted he collar of her coat and slipped her car key fob into her pocket before walking to the front door. The moment she stepped onto the landing the door opened.

“You’re right on time, Trixie. You’re a very good girl.”

His face was obscured by the shadows but she could tell he was a formidable man, standing at well over six and a half feet tall. “I’m a professional. Of that you’re well aware, Sir.” She would no longer refer to him by his fake name. For the next three hours she was required to show him utter respect. She was his submissive, his slave for the evening.

“Yes. Something I admire. Come in.” He remained behind the door as he invited her inside.

Hearing the click as the door was lock was to be expected. She shoved her hands into her pockets and waited, entering her role. Tonight she belonged to him.

“Walk into the den. Remove your coat and face the fire.” His command was sharp.

She obeyed instantly, moving toward the warm glow at the far end of the hallway. When she walked into the room she instantly admired his choice of art adorning the walls. He was a consummate collector. Impressed, she slowly unfastened the belt and removed her coat, placing the slick material over the arm of the couch.

“Magnificent. You are everything Mistress Jade said you’d be.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She lowered her head. The sign of reverence was just the beginning of her duties.

“Turn around. I need to see all of you.”

She did as she was told and when she’d turned in his direction, she was surprised at the face peering back at her. Her Dom had chiseled features, high cheekbones. His aristocratic look was personified by the black silk shirt and charcoal pants he wore. She rarely cared about the person who would tie and flog, beat and fuck her during the course of their limited time together. For some reason she was drawn to him. Instantly she looked down at the floor.

He moved toward her, lifting her chin with a single finger. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you, Sir.” His eyes were mesmerizing, almost haunting. There was no kindness, no sense of love. He was merely admiring his prize.

Taking a step back he nodded before shifting to his left.

Trixie’s instincts were honed after dozens of experiences. She could sense what every DomEvocative two yearned for even before they gave instructions, issued commands. Hearing a clinking sound she exhaled. Three hours. She was ready for the sting of a whip, the anguish of tightened clamps.

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” In his hand he held a glass, the prisms glistening in various colors given the flickering flames of the fire. He took a sip then held out the goblet, as if paying homage. “I can see why you’re considered the best.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Her eyes darted to the whip attached to his belt. Nothing surprised her in the world of BDSM. Both men and women had fallen into their personified darkness, an inner cry to release tension. Many were unable to have sexual relations without including various aspects of pain. She tingled in anticipation. Her needs were secondary, but she certainly appreciated the rush received during various sessions. Tonight she would leave bruised and bloody. Weary of wearing the mask or not, she was a pain monger.

“Remove your bra and panties. Remain in your shoes. I very much appreciate a woman in high heels.”

She lowered her gaze as she removed her underwear. He demanded consistent reverence. Every move was perfunctory. He didn’t care about passion or sensuality. His only desire was the use of a pain slut and she was one of the best in the business. Standing naked, she held her arms at her side, waiting for his direction.

The concept is delicious, don’t you think?

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

Posted in BDSM, Booktrope, Domination and submission, Dubious Consent, EDGE, thriller | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Submitting to a Spanking…Public Disgrace

I think I touched a nerve yesterday when I wrote about tantrums. We’ve all experienced them or been smack in the middle during the course of our lives. There are times I’ve wanted to drag the children away from a table or from the middle of a store and turn them over my knee. Of course I would have been arrested for assault, but the thought lingers every time I experience this kind of scenario. I’ve also told couples, who are Spanking on a bencharguing, to shut the hell up at various times and they look at me like I have three heads. I tend to have a difficult time holding back and that’s probably not the best scenario to place myself in, but that’s who I am.

While penning various books, I’ve investigated sites on the Internet and one aspect of domination has a constant thread – public disgrace or humiliation. I’m not certain why there is such a love of watching another being put in their place in extreme methods, but people love to be the fly on the wall, relishing in those being put in their place. You can’t tell me you haven’t snickered when seeing a colleague reprimanded. While corporations have strict guidelines in place for disciplining employees, often emotions get in the way.

There are extreme sites on the great wide web world highlighting methods of humiliation and various Doms/Dommes practice this rather creative art form for punishment of their submissives. You might cringe while you read this, but the occurrence and activity is widely used. I’m not going this deep in the concept, however. For the majority of us, there are times we want to put our significant other in their place without going to extraordinary measures. Many heads of households can give a single look – the one that says without question that if the behavior continues, there will be consequences. Given I’ve talked to so many couples embroiled in either domestic discipline or a D/s relationship, I know there is a look, a facial tick or a single word that is used as a stopping point. Do not cross this line or else.

I have to wonder whether we shouldn’t all have this moment of actuality in our lives. All of us have to follow rules in every aspect of our day-to-day tasks. Our employers have rules and guidelines you must follow. There are laws in every country and if broken, you may go to prison for a lengthy period of time. Why doesn’t this happen in relationships? Why are we allowed to act out, hurting the one we said we’d love to the end of time? Because we can get away with the ridiculous behavior without a single thing happening, except for a bitter Vintage b wargument or time spent alone.

Ahhh – consequences. I wrote a sexy little piece for Christmas last year titled Twisted Christmas – Family Reunion. In the story, I decided to allow a husband to take control of a difficult situation, spanking his wife in front of the in-laws. For many couples involved in either DD or D/s, moments involving punishment are usually performed in private. For many living one of the alternative lifestyles, the majority of their friends and family have no idea how they life or that punishment is a weekly occurrence. I’ve written about how many couples that practice are chastised in our rather vanilla society. Can you imagine actually spanking your wife (or husband) in front of the in-laws or co-workers? Boy, wouldn’t this set the tone for the evening. But what if…

My spanking blogs seem to resonate more than anything I write. From being disciplined in the middle of a Target parking lot to an event at a neighborhood barbecue, readers flock to these and the little books created around them. Why? This goes back to the realization that we all crave discipline. When you’ve told a lie or perhaps snuck out early from work, does your gut churn with a tiny bit of guilt? Being resolved of the action or forgiven is in our nature, at least for the majority of us. Given we’re taught right from wrong when we’re just toddlers, for most, breaking the rules is out of the question. Still, we push, prod, snark, argue and sometimes pick a fight. In my mind, I think many of us do this just to get a reaction. So, imagine another scenario. You and your hubby planned a festive summer barbecue. You’ve invited all your friends, set the tone, found the right music and have beer and wine flowing, along with the grill hot and ready. Time for relaxation, sharing good times and laughter.

Then the argument you had in the morning explodes in front of everyone. You’re both tense for various reasons and can’t seem to squelch the nasty words issued every minute or so. Finally some of the guests notice, shying away to a corner, hugging their drinks and whispering. What can possibly change the tone of the event? Well, a spanking of course. Now, the husband could politely excuse both of you and go into the far bedroom, closing the door. He could pull out a wooden hairbrush or tug off his belt, dragging you over his lap and giving his spouse a much-needed whipping.

Minutes later you both emerge, calm and everything back in a constrained order. Now imagine the scenario if she refuses to go with you, scoffing at the command? No amount of quiet discussion in the kitchen away from prying eyes seems to reiterate your point or resume the basic lines of authority. What’s a husband to do?

After a few more nasty jabs, he takes matters into his own hands. For many of you, the aspect of spanking your wife in front of anyone should be daunting. There’s perhaps nothing more embarrassing for couples then to highlight your vulnerability. However, the method has been proven to be useful. The scene is set. He takes her hands, looks into her eyes and says quietly that she crossed the line and is going to pay for acting like a child.

Whether he announces to the group his intentions or simply pulls out a chair on the deck, sits down casually and without another words, pulls his wife over his knee. Given the situation, he tugs her skirt up to her waist and uses his hand instead of a harsh implement.

Crack! Slap!

Can you imagine the stunned folks sipping on their frosty beverages? What do you think their reactions would be? Honestly, I think many would pretend embarrassment but would inch closer, savoring every hard strike, every whimper and cry. This is just in our human nature. I can only guess that she didn’t just get on her husband’s nerves. She most likely infuriated more than one person attending the party. Inside, the various men and women might even applaud the punishment.

Does this seem harsh to you or totally out of the norm? Perhaps, but think about the quiet resolve and normalcy returned to the party. Of course she’ll feel humiliated being disgraced in public, but my guess is this will never happen again. Order has been restored. The fun can continue and she’s very well aware she’s to act appropriately, especially inWhen only a spanking wil do public. I asked JP the question, would he ever spank me in public? I’m curious to find out his answer and I’ll let you know.

Thoughts for a hot summer afternoon. Perhaps you’re attending a party right now, wishing you could pull your wife over your knee for a solid old-fashioned spanking.

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

Posted in Domestic Discipline, Domination and submission, Spanking | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Submitting to a Spanking…Tantrums

Tantrums. You think about this with regard to children. They don’t understand rules early on and fight when they don’t get their way. I’m certainly annoyed as hell when I have to endure this kind of behavior in a restaurant or store, but what happens when you experience this with adults? Granted, I haven’t seen many large children (as in adults acting like brats) in a full-blown crying or screaming event, but… I’ve noticed more and more that folks seem to be entitled. They believe they deserve based on the fact they breathe. You’ve probably noticed I’ve written a bit about this over the last few weeks. I’ve Girl being spanked with a wooden hairbrushreached the point I’m sick to freaking death of this kind of behavior. Why in God’s name do you think you deserve just because you’ve written a book, live in a planned community, have various designations at the end of your name or have more money than the next guy?

The answer? Society. Our world seems to have reached a pinnacle of the extreme. From reality shows to the way our television stations report the news, the wilder and crazier the story or activity, the more the fifteen minutes of fame truly applies. It’s disheartening and for me, repulsive. The trickle down effect carries over into our every day lives. Few of us are or will be famous. That is unless we go out of our comfort zone into the abnormal. From kids shooting and killing people based on a Rebel flag to burning churches because of the color of skin, we’ve reached a new bottom feeder kind of low. On top of this disgrace to humanity, we enjoy watching the outcome, hunger to see more, rush to our televisions to comment on the idiots who seem to be making headway. Why? Because these ridiculous stories change the way we live.

The Rebel flag is a part of history, yet several states in America have banned flying this particular flag because of a stupid and wretched kid. Really? I continue to shake my head. However, I can push this out of my life in that I’ve never cared to fly a Rebel flag and I don’t know the people – other than vicariously given the glossy newscasts – who were killed. I cringe and feel sorry for the families of course, but this doesn’t affect my every day life. What does is constant empowered behavior that leads to tantrums in my professional world and in my writing world. I’m at the breaking point of well, delving into a tantrum myself.

In the world of D/s, the lifestyle allows for immediate control and punishment of this kind of behavior. Submissives or those in domestic discipline relationships understand from the get-go that they can’t whine and break rules, lie or steal, cheat or otherwise act like a child. What’s going to happen? One concept is a good old fashioned spanking. The more I experience days and weeks where I see whining babies who are over the age of 30, the more I understand and appreciate the concept of discipline in our lives. We need to be controlled. This bullshit really has to stop or we’re never going to move into any kind of a future where humanity and kindness is the basic element.

Haven’t you witnessed a fight or a disagreement, read a nasty email or instant message on Facebook where you wanted to wrap your hand around their throats and shaking them uncontrollably? Imagine with me for a minute seeing an altercation in a restaurant. Two adults, perhaps a loving couple, are having a fairly serious disagreement and you’re forced to witness every ugly word. Their voices escalate and you’re ready to pitch your drink in their faces. Usually after a few minutes the couple stops fighting, but by then your mood has changed. You’re no longer relaxed. You have the need to storm over and tell them what for.

Let’s change the scenario. What if the man (just for the sake of this blog) rises to his feet, gives the woman a harsh look and heads out of the restaurant. Of course she follows. Submitting over the kitchen tableSince they’re right in the middle of dinner, you realize something might just be going on. Will you be curious to find out what might occur? I can’t lie. I would be. Let’s just say you decide to follow them outside.

The couple walks to the car in silence, her head dipped low. The truck they arrived in is parked far in the back of the parking lot, away from prying eyes. You walk casually closer, keeping just enough distance but finding the right perching spot. Then your eyes open wide. The man opens up the truck door and climbs inside. You crane your neck and notice he’s pulled out a hairbrush from the glove compartment. He pats his lap and the woman eases over. Granted, you slink back a bit when he yanks up her dress then pulls down her panties.

Crack! Slap!

A heady spanking begins. You’re able to overhear their conversation.

“I’ve told you before, when you make a fool of yourself in public there will be consequences,” he states as he rubs her reddened ass.

“I’m sorry. I had a rough day at work,” she whines.

“That doesn’t give you the right to act like a child.”

Whap! Crack!

By this point you’re shivering, perhaps wondering what a hard spanking feels like. If you’re with your guy, would you turn around and look into his eyes, suddenly both knowing what you need and what you’ve been missing in our relationship? I have to admit. I can see the scenario. Can you? Imagine what it would be like if there were consequences within your relationship or even in your professional life. I’ve written stories about companies who practice corporal punishment for bad behavior. If only this could occur…

Spanking within homes and behind closed doors is increasing. The concept of having a Head of Household is a topic of conversation more every day. I’ve talked to so many couples whose relationship now thrives based on the fact they decided that domestic discipline is the method of control for them. They are happier than they’ve ever been. They enjoy times together without the nagging and bitter arguments. Sounds odd to you? Perhaps it is, but I can tell you, if there were consequences for acting like a child, something tangible, I believe there’d be a happier society.

Think about the last time you lashed out, maybe for no other reason at all but that you knew you could get away with acting like a child. Hmmm… What if he or she took you over Submitting classytheir knee and spanked you until you cried. Would you feel better? Would you be able to release some of the pent up anger and demons inside? My guess is a resounding yes, but these are just my thoughts.

Crack!

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

 

Posted in BDSM, Domestic Discipline, Domination and submission, Spanking | Tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Shadow of Evil

You must know how I enjoy a good horror story. I love the twists and turns, the supernatural elements of good versus evil. I was the little girl who graduated at 16 from high school and my English thesis paper (80 pages long mine you) was on the effects of good versus evil in the mythological worlds of Camelot. Yeah, I know. My teacher scratched his head, read, told me I needed to become an author and gave me an A+. I do believe in the complexity of humans where the line between good and evil is very thin.

We’ve all heard of someone who snaps for no particular reason, killing their spouse or bloody murderboss, their best friend or a stranger on the street. While there are usually underlying circumstances, the truth is, we all have a demon inside. Every one of us could perform heinous acts. I feed off of delving into the minds of the wretched and damned. So as you can imagine, I love to write about serial killers and monsters, psychological situations and true evil. I’m developing a little collection of short novellas or long stories that I’m calling… The Shadow of Oblivion. Within you’re going to find some tasty treats to snack on. Here’s a taste of my first one… I love just sitting and blasting out a few words.

MARKED FOR EVIL

Boom!

The single thunderclap rolled in the distance. Lightning strikes electrified the sky, highlighting the swinging arms of the massive tree line. The malevolent horizon was somehow comforting.

Crack!

Shivering, Taylor Jameson would normally have hidden in the closet, clenching her eyes shut, while she prayed to some wretched God the storm would pass. On this night, she stood in front of the kitchen window, reveling in the sights and sounds. She was no longer frightened, merely resigned to her life. As she reached for her wine, she realized her hand was shaking. She flexed her fingers, lifting them into the warm glow of the single light over the stove. Nails bitten to the quick were a sad reminder of the tension existing in her house. Her entire life was a mess, full of bullshit and lies. She was nobody with a lackluster career and a depleted bank account.

She longed for the intimate touch of a man, craving passion in a way she’d never before. A pang of anxiety prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. Everything would be all right. For a few seconds she closed her eyes, almost able to see his face. The rugged man had become her fantasy. She’d noticed him three times in the last week, once in the grocery store and twice in the middle of Target. Tall and muscular with dark, wavy hair, the touch of grey at his temples gave him a debonair appearance.

Everything about the stranger reeked of the exotic from his cologne to his attire. She longed to hear him speak and believed he was of foreign decent, perhaps visiting family or friends. No one as stunning as the gorgeous hunk lived in Merritville Indiana. Suddenly thoughts of her husband cut through her salacious desires.

She cringed as images of the wretched fight furrowed into the back of her mind.

“You’re a fucking whore, a true slut. I should have never married you.”

“And you think you’re a prize here, buddy? You’re nothing but a loser in business and in the bedroom.” The instant the words flew out of her mouth she knew she would regret them. Her husband of twelve years didn’t appreciate being challenged. She took a long stride back, just out of his reach. This time she stood her ground, refusing to back down, and allowed a smile to cross her face.

Ricky lumbered forward, tripping over the clutter scattered on the floor. He inhaled deeply and glared at her, his eyes bulging, his face a tangled mass of rage. He raised his arm, fisting his hand.

“Go on. Hit me. I know that’s what you want to do,” Taylor hissed.

demonsAs if startled, he took a step back, kicking aside the plastic toys aside, and looked down. “Clean this fucking place up. We have guests coming this weekend. Or did you forget?” Seconds later he slammed the front door, the force reverberating the few pictures hung in the living room.

Forget? How could she? The nasty memory was bittersweet. For once she’d remained strong, instead of cowering given his propensity of escalating their nasty disagreements. Still, there was no way out and no way to change her situation. She had nowhere to go, no mom and dad to run to. Mend the fence. Everything will be all right.

Who the hell was she kidding? The man was a worthless monster. Hate. I hate you! She wrapped her hand around her glass of wine, nearly tossing the remainder of the contents into the back of her mouth. The cheap Merlot fizzed as it slithered down at throat. Whatever. She didn’t care any longer. Drink. Get drunk. She wiped tears from her eyes and sniffed. Fuck the crying. He didn’t deserve to get the better of her.

At least the kids were away at her in-laws, enjoying a week of fun and sun. Meanwhile, she had a birthday party to plan. Sighing, she didn’t give a shit her darling hubby was turning forty. She loathed the thought of entertaining a group of his friends at her house. The fat pigs would guzzle beer and savor some sports game, while she catered to them like she was a useless slave.

But you are. The thought was riveting.

After licking the remnants of Merlot from her lips, she tilted her head, watching in awe as another flash of brilliant light illuminated the night sky. Darkness was her friend. Dreams allowed her peace. At least Ricky was gone, no doubt for hours. The remnants of dinner he required to be served by six sharp remained on the stove, untouched. She only had an appetite for alcohol.

Ugly whore.

“No!” Taylor plastered on a smile and rubbed the back of her neck.

She’d been thankful for a quiet day off from work and away from the kids. She loved her children, thankful she was a mother, but between the stress at work and Ricky’s personality change, she deserved a break. A laugh bubbled to her lips as she twisted her body, grabbing the half empty bottle of wine. If her husband didn’t want to share an evening alone, then she’d make her own fun.

“Party time,” Taylor mumbled. As she poured another glass of wine, she hummed to the music blaring from the CD player. At least rock music soothed her inner beast. She swayed back and forth to the strains of Metallica, imaging her life twenty years before. Too much had changed and none for the better.

Crack! Pop!

Thrown into complete total darkness, she gulped air and turned to face the open kitchen, a moment of terror skating down her spine. You can do this. Don’t be afraid. You can… Remember, darkness is your friend. Seconds later she was able to control her breathing and concentrated on the howling wind, the thumping of tree limbs hitting the house. She was safe. There was no boogeyman.

“The lady in red…”

Taylor blinked and craned her neck. Who the fuck was speaking? Was there someone in her house? She took a few tentative steps forward, easing around the island toward the table. The song was her absolute favorite, but certainly not on her heavy metal playlist. The song continued, the soft strains of guitar and piano floating into the quiet space. There had to a battery operated radio playing somewhere in the house.

She bit back a moan and crept toward the source of the sound. Another flash of lightning haunted abstractthrew her against the refrigerator. “Ricky. Is that you?” She knew better. He was no doubt out with the buddies, boozing it up and talking about his horrible lot in life.

The old wooden floor creaked under her feet as she made her way into the living room. She stood in the doorway, scanning the perimeter of the shadowed space. She sensed a presence.

My lady in red.

“No.”

Goosebumps danced along her naked skin. Even from where she hovered in the entrance, she could see the blue LED lit dials on the CD player. They seemed to be dancing to the beat. A whimper escaped her lips. She was mesmerized as the song continued, the words burning into the very core of her being. Once upon a time she’d been the lady in red.

When the song ended she breathed a sigh of relief and scampered to locate the remote control. She clicked off the power and the system went dark. Perhaps there was a battery backup she didn’t know about. Nodding in satisfaction, she eased the controller on top of the speaker and retreated.

“I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight…”

“Jesus!” Taylor froze and moved quickly, grabbing the remote and pressing the power button. She waited for a full minute and nothing happened. Silence. Yes. Silence. The second she turned around, the music began again, this time the volume at least two decibels higher.

“And I’ve never seen that dress you’re wearing…”

Taylor dropped to the floor, crawling between the stereo system and the tattered couch, fumbling until she reached the power cord. Breathing hard, her heart thumped against her chest. She yanked hard, nearly toppling the CD player, but managed to jerk the plug from the electric plate. She panted, sweat dripping from her forehead. Please stop. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone!

After five minutes of what seemed to be deathly quiet, she breathed a sigh of relief and raced out of the room, dashing up the stairs to her bedroom. Leaning against the closed door, she caught her breath and was determined to go to sleep. She was exhausted and nothing more.

Quickly changing into what Ricky called her ‘granny gown’, she eased under the covers, pulling them up and over her head. Tomorrow was a new day. She drifted off to sleep as a dark chuckle settled around her.

“I’ll never forget the way you look tonight.”

I so hope you’ve enjoyed seeing the warped as well as the wicked.

Kisses, spanks and thoughts of darkness…

Cassandre

Posted in creatures of the night, EDGE, Fantasy, horror, murder mystery, serial killer | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

My Special Guest…BL Morticia

I love having guests on my show and this lovely lady has been a friend for years and happy to call her a fellow Booktrope author. Come enjoy a taste…

Writing Sexual Fantasies

Greetings readers!

This is BLMorticia with another smexy post.

*licks lips*

Ooh sexual fantasies. Damn I’ve got so many of them, or rather, Shar does. That’s why when she writes she likes to push the envelope, get your motor running in all kinds of different directions. Yep, we love to do romance and sex outside the box. That’s whatBL Morticia Under the Gun makes it fun.

How do those fantasies materialize? Watching porn, reading, er interesting material, and hell, just dreaming!

*smiles*

When Shar sits down at the computer with me or one of the other muses alongside, she’s writing down things she fantasizes about. I’m pretty sure most authors are like that about their books right? Along with the gritty reality, they throw in the sex scene they wish they could participate in. Or hell, maybe they have!

*raises eyebrow*

Well, since I’m in Shar’s head, I can guarantee ya, most of what Shar writes is indeed fantasy!

*smirks*

Ooh like what you say? In my story Losing My Inhibitions, my fun and fearless female Vanessa is cop who likes to be in control. Not only that, her desire is to use a strap on with a man. Yes, that’s right. My girl wants to fuck like a man!

Did Shar fantasize about this? Why, yes of course. Not without my wicked influence of course. *snort* but yeah she does desire to try that.

Will it happen?

We both doubt it since the DH isn’t into that, but hey, a girl can dream right? That’s why we’re so into writing. Let’s write stories about using strap-ons, f/f action, being in threesomes with two men who also love one another!

I’m getting hot just thinking of it.

Whew!

All those things we’ve wrote we thought about at some time or another and hell, what could possibly be wrong with that?

Absolutely nothing.

So we’ll keep writing about the fantasies, wishing we could actually be participants or at least flies on the wall.

Yeah about that strap on thing…

*goes to find DH*

Erm, nevermind.

Speaking of sexual fantasies, we’re pushed that envelope in Under the Gun. Check out the blurb and excerpt, but in order to find that sexual fantasy, you have to buy the book!

Pre DADT Repeal…

Jaded by his lover leaving him for a woman, Camdyn Hardy is looking for love and partnership. When he goes to the local shooting range, he only wants to let off a little steam, but meeting Malik Day, a discharged army serviceman is a welcome surprise.

Malik’s issues go farther than just a lack of love. Discharged for defending a fellow gay soldier got him kicked out of the Army and back at home with his bible thumping parents. When Malik meets Camdyn, the sparks are there, but both of them are too afraid to make their desires known to each other.

After several conversations and dates, Camdyn and Malik are hot for one another and ready to take the next step. When they do, they discover they have a lot more in common than just a need for a committed relationship.

Excerpt PG

Some days are better than others and most could be a helluva lot better, but when you get into a fight with your significant other, of the moment, what else can be done? I wished we Sharitacould’ve gotten past it, but there wasn’t any way to avoid it.

My boyfriend and I were working on a case together when we almost slipped up because of our… ‘encounter’… on the job. At my insistence, too, and this made it even worse. Our client wasn’t amused when he literally caught us with our pants down; he almost fired us on the spot. Still, we managed to finish. The job, that is. My man tried to tell me to wait until we were safe and out of sight, but my horniness wouldn’t allow me to. I shouldn’t have listened to my dick, but some days he thinks he’s the brains of this outfit.

After that, Tay started having second thoughts about our relationship. He thought we’d lost focus by working together, and we should split up. I tried pleading with him. I told him it wasn’t a good reason. “No, no, no, no, no,” I insisted, vigorously shaking my head. But the more I protested, the more he vehemently disagreed about going on with this work/play scenario. Disagreed about us.

No matter how much I begged… no matter how much or how loudly I promised I’d be more of a good boy, he’d have none of it. He decided to move on, and he did, leaving every tie to Camdyn & Associates behind.

I knew he still loved me, but I’d heard from mutual friends Tay was on the fence again, spending a lot of time with some female. Sheesh. I’d been preparing myself for my down-low lover to take a hike, so when he walked out that door today, it really wasn’t much of a surprise. That taught me a lesson—don’t deal with anyone who’s unsure about his sexuality ever again. I needed someone totally real and gay, like me. One hundred percent queer.

As I drove away from my office, the anger built inside of me. Ready to burn rubber, I gripped the steering wheel tightly and made the sharp turn at the corner, intending to enter the freeway. The grooves from the leather pierced my skin and my knuckles turned white from the pressure. Even though my place was only fifteen minutes away, I felt the need to do damage, more like kick the shit out of Tay. Unfortunately, the gas pedal was my only fucking option.

Sales Links

Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/Under-The-Gun-Hardy-Book-ebook/dp/B012EJ3Q1E/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_img_4?ie=UTF8&refRID=19P2TYCVQHWM1WCNXKMJ

B&N http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/under-the-gun-bl-morticia/1122379845?ean=2940150795686

Bio

BLMorticia is currently a published writer who entertains her readers with hot and smexy sex, humor, and lots of swear words. She attempts to incorporate metal music or the military in most of her works. Nothin’ sexier than metalheads or military servicemen and women! For more info, please visit, Erotica With Snark

Links

The Literary Triad – http://www.thelitriad.com/#!

BLMorticia – http://blmorticia.wordpress.com

Pinterest –  http://www.pinterest.com/authorslira/

Instagram – http://instagram.com/sharitalira/

Ello – https://ello.co/srlmort71

Twitter  http://twitter.com/#!/rawiyamikembl

Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/TheLiteraryTriad

Goodreads – BLMorticia – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4436911.B_L_Morticia

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Thank you so much for being here!

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

Posted in Booktrope, Entice, Gay Erotic | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments