Monday, July 30, 2012

Praise for Let Me Show You By Nobilis Reed

Here's a wonderful review for Nobilis Reed's excellent book, Let Me Show You, by I.G. Frederick:

As someone who lives with chronic pain, I can relate to the poignant, sexy story of Sunny trying (not always successfully) to take her life and her sexuality back from a devastating disease. Her problems are compounded by choices that aren't considered socially acceptable by some of those who would help her. You'll want to follow her on this journey and discover how much she's able to accomplish and enjoy within the limitations imposed by her affliction. 
- I.G. Frederick, author of Dommemoir and Young and Eager

Sunday, July 29, 2012

A Guest Post By Amber Rose Thompson

I am not always the quickest of people. When it comes to being sarcastic I can make a machine gun jealous (I believe sarcasm is a lost art form in need of resurgence). That being said, introspection takes a mallet over my head at times. Turns out I'm denser than I thought. Could be why I've never broken my skull despite numerous accidents (but that's another blog post). So, despite having six books out, one on its way, another in editing, and a third in the writing process, I only now realized the one thread that ties them all together- power. The word power in the last sentence probably should be bold face, italicized, in 78 point font, and colored purple or red.

Power. I happen to have multiple memberships in the LGBT spectrum, but even if I didn't, I don't think it would matter. I don't care if you are LGBT, vampire, werewolf, human, god, ghost, etc., your identity is yours, but power is shared. Like sex, we all think about it. Whether you always want sex, feel sex is an occasional fun time, or never want to see another person's genitals, you have thought of sex and will continue to do so in one way or another. Power shares that central focus in our lives. It is impossible to be a social animal, as we humans are, and not consider power. What rung on the hierarchial ladder am I? Am I huddled with the masses towards the bottom or getting lightheaded from limited oxygen at the top?

Our political and work lives revolve around power, and so do our most intimate of social lives, the ones we let only chosen people into. Power. Do you bow down and whisper on someone's boots or do you watch the chandelier flicker against the end of your whip as you crack the air? Power. It defines who we are in relation to others. And in relating to others, we let our erotic side out for play.

Power play, power games, are all about the choreographed dance between two or more people moving around each other as their lives become entwined. Power can shift, mutate, transform, but power is always there and where there is power there is heat, strong heat that burns under the skin waiting to explode. That is what interests, intrigues, and possesses me the most when I write BDSM erotic tales. How far can the power take us in finding our deepest fears and hopes? Join me in the journey of exploration. 

About Amber Rose Thompson
I write under the pen name Amber Rose Thompson. Why don’t I use my legal name? Well, I don’t want to be fired from my day job, now do I? By day, I am a public librarian working in the metropolis of New York City. I write the kinds of books that will never be offered at my library or even considered. And that is why I use a fictitious name. It is a bit sad to promote reading by day and hide my own writing while doing so. Before work, on lunch, break, and after work I write hot, erotic tales that I hope will make readers squirm and fan themselves. My one major hurdle in writing is my kitten who believes laps are for sleeping, not laptops. With this hindrance, I often write one-handed, and not for the reason your dirty mind is thinking. I hold the laptop with one hand and type with the other so my little bundle of fur can purr in her sleep. My muse for writing is my lovely and amazing partner who I’ve been married to for sixteen wonderful years. We all must get our inspiration from somewhere after all. My marriage is an interesting one, while we have been married for awhile, we actually have two marriage certificates. You see part way through our marriage we both transitioned to the opposite gender. I told you my marriage was different. I am a trans man writing under a female name, talk about gender bending and mental games.
Some Reviews
"Amber Rose Thompson is an excellent writer." - Laura Antoniou, author, The Marketplace Series
Scheherezade’s Gift: Beth’s Wild and Crazy Book Reviews- “Wow talk about a hot sexy book…who knew going to the bookstore so often would get you a magical book that gets you laid by the man of your dreams.” 
Tied To Passion: Sizzling Hot Books Reviews- “Tied to Passion is not for the faint of hearted...I would recommend Tied to Passion to those who enjoy erotic romances...” 
Tied To passion: BDSM Book Reviews- “ Based on sex scene alone, I would have rated this book a 4 paddle because it made me want to jump my husband after reading it....I recommend this book for BDSM light readers who like to read about a bringing an innocent to the dark side.”

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Communication, Compromise & Respect: The Art of Collaboration by K. B. Cutter

K. B. Cutter is co-author, with Margie Church, of Razor, a novel of romance and bondage.

I've been invited here today to discuss what it's like to work with another writer. Frankly, I didn't want to disappoint the folks at Sizzler Editions, however, I don't really know what it's like. My co-author, Margie Church, told me how and what how to write.

Okay, that's not true. Well, mostly . . . There will be times in the partnership where one person will take on a dominant persona. I do as well, but it's usually at the Velvet Anvil, one a.m. show. Two drink Minimum. Ball gags optional. And my stage name is Lola, but, that's not relevant at the moment. What I'm trying to say, in my own unique way, is while you both strive for equality, it may fall on one author to . . . well . . . crack the whip. I'll touch more on this topic later on, hopefully, not inappropriately.

If you plan to work with another author constructing a story, you must have a relationship. It certainly helps if you both have a friendly rapport. Margie and I are friends, dang close buds, so the creative process went smoothly. If there is a hint of acrimony or jealously, or any other unproductive emotion, you are doomed from the start.

Once you embark on said collaboration, first rule: THE STORY COMES FIRST. Both of you, second. –wink- -wink- -nudge- -nudge- Margie and I agreed on the outset, along with shooting irons, authorial egos checked at the door. The book is the center of the universe, everything else is ancillary. A large portion of Razor contains my authorial 'tone.' Margie did not throw a hissy fit and it vice versa when she wrote detailed, complex, and at times, sensually erotic, pivotal scenes. Why? It benefited the story. Period.

Its, CCR, folks. No, not Creedence Clearwater Revival (if you don't know who CCR is, seek Google, it's your friend)

Communication: You must have a free exchange of ideas. Margie and I communicated through texts, emails and phone conversations, plotting, spit balling, and seriously hunkering down over the keyboard. If you are not willing to listen to your co-author's thoughts, not matter how divergent from your own, time to pack your bags and get out of Dodge.

Compromise: Yes, most dreaded of the C words . . . hmmm . . . maybe not, however, one of the most difficult to adhere to. I have a tendency to write formally. Margie explained to me that I would have to 'contemporize' my writing for Razor, since it takes place in the 21st century. I shouldn't be afraid of contractions and be ready to slay those pesky adverbs.
Margie has a keen eye for editing, sentence structure and flow. There were times I had to go back, move words around, and chop the choppy convoluted phrases.
Even if I thought, there were prosaic masterpieces, if it didn't fit the tone of the story . . . SLICE!

Respect: Aretha said it, spelled it, sang it. A must in ANY collaboration. If you think of your partner possesses diminished intellect or creativity, then, by all means, go write this bestseller on your own.

Coincidentally, Razor contains D/s relationship elements, Margie and I engaged in one as well. No, she didn't shave my nether regions with a strait blade (privately, she did confess this was number ONE on her bucket list) but she took point. Margie is talented, focused, disciplined and a wealth of information. What did I bring to the table? Donuts. Bavarian cream. Man, they are soo good.

I digress. By nature, I'm easy going, laid back and flexible (Actually, a pretty neat talent to have outside of the bedroom.) Our personal traits are a good fit (resisting innuendo) and our talents complimented each other. I cannot imagine writing this story with anyone else. I learned quite a bit from working with Margie and my effort on Razor, coupled with the Church Lady's tutelage, is some of the best work I have completed to date.

Please check out Razor, an unconventional, loving, richly textured, and decidedly adult erotic romance with BDSM elements. You will not be disappointed.


Born and bred Long Islander, I grew up working class poor. There were few escapes for me: The beach, the bay and books. I fell in love with all three.

As I grew older, I became a voracious reader. The natural evolutionary process led me to write. I filled countless marble composition notebooks with my fevered scribblings. Eventually, with the aid of modern technology, namely the PC, Microsoft Word and the internet, I was blessed to find an exceptional interactive writing forum. For years I wrote in every conceivable genre and sub-genre.

The long journey to professionally published author is complete, although one I think I shall never tire and keep traveling. While I am a member of the Thin Blue Line at night, during the day I create stories of erotic romance and dark horror. One day, I will marry the two successfully. The results, I hope, will be bloody sexy!

Friday, July 27, 2012

Watch our 500 Shades Video Trailer

We don't think people who read Fifty Shades are stupid. We think they are kool to be reading and kool to like novels of erotic bondage. We also think we have over 500 bondage ebooks they might like. So we made the following video trailer. We think it is the best Bill Mills has made for us yet.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Circlet Likes Technorotica

Check out this very nice review of M. Christian's technophilia-laced collection Technorotica: Stories Shattering the Ultimate Taboo by Gayle C. Straun at the Circlet Press site:

Technorotica is a compendium of two previous M. Christian books, Better than the Real Thing and Rude Mechanicals, accompanied by an excerpt from Painted Doll (previously reviewed here) closing out the volume. Two of the stories previously appeared in Circlet Press’s The Bachelor Machine (reviewed here), while two others appeared in the Circlet anthologies Selling Venus and Up for Grabs 2
Some readers may initially feel that Technorotica constitutes one of those “best of” albums whose contents fail to gel into a thematic whole, perhaps appreciated more for its individual parts, especially since some stories explore such science fiction conceits as cybernetics and collective consciousness, while others plod the more real-world territory of matchmaking over the modem or even having sex with a blow-up toy ball. But therein lies the rub (pun intended), for by including such an array of stories, M. Christian reminds us that our sexuality is already augmented with things “unnatural;” that human beings, social creatures that we are, already get off using a variety of apparatus developed by our society–or, to put it another way, handcuffs and riding crops don’t occur in nature, y’all. The title character in “Billie” reaches the heights of bliss riding her Harley Davidson, while Pell in “Speaking Parts” is driven to distraction by the bionic eye of her lover-to-be Arc, a “masterpiece watch set in a crystal sphere, the iris a mandala of glowing gold.” Failed lawyer Stanley in “KSRN” dreams his dreams of wealth and power, of women like commodities, owned: “Their skin became polished, imported. Their bodies took on the lines of fine European manufacturers… Their breasts gleamed chrome, the highlights of their curves reflecting into the night, into his eyes–airflow eroticism, calling to him.” Meanwhile, the prostitute Fields in “State” acts the part of an android for high dollar customers who would probably be repelled to learn of her true humanity. 
Just as we homo sapiens have tweaked our consciousnesses with a variety of substances since the earliest days of our species, so, too, have we augmented our sexuality. As Lenore Tiefer titled her groundbreaking book, Sex Is Not a Natural Act, and it never has been. If there is a common theme tying together these stories, tying together the simple and sweet tale of a couple’s first use of a vibrator with that of a person who hires out her body by a form of remote control, then that’s it. Sex is not a natural act, and it never has been. 
The artist Mark Rothko famously quipped, “Certain people always say we should go back to nature. I notice they never say we should go forward to nature.” And that is where M. Christian takes us in this collection–forward to nature. Forward–to discover our natures.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012


GALE ALLEN & THE GIRL SQUAD IN THE 21ST CENTURY returns, culled from the pages of the 1940s Planet Comics.

Venusian princess and direct descendant of King Rogert, who was the first human to land on Venus, Gale Allen grows up to become the captain of the Universal Space Patrol. A skilled space pilot sporting a ray gun at her hip, Gale leads her Girl Squadron in the fight for galactic justice around the year 1990 (when her adventures first begin) and proceeding well into the 21st century. The courageous Gale and the women of her squadron encounter their fair share of madmen and monsters while sporting fantastic belly and leg-baring two-piece 'uniforms'.

A break from the ubiquitous damsel-in-distress stories readers were encountering in the comic books of the day, Fiction House's comic book division produced a unique line of heroines – featuring Sheena: Queen of the Jungle, Senorita Rio, Firehair: Girl of the Golden West, Mysta of the Moon, and the star of this collection, the futuristic, space rocketing Gale Allen and her "Girl Squadron." The busty Allen and her all-girl Girl Squadron appeared in nearly every issue of Planet Comics between #4 and #42. Written by Douglas McKee, many of the Gale Allen tales (including most of the ones collected here) were illustrated by Fran Deitrick Hopper. In those days women who illustrated comics were a rare occurrence to be sure – everywhere but Fiction House. With introduction by Ralph Greco, Jr.


Monday, July 23, 2012

Out Now: For Her Will - Femdom Erotica [Revised Edition] By Sascha Illyvich

No one writes BDSM erotica like Sascha Illyvich  - and this new book proves just how book he can be: For Her Will - Femdom Erotica [Revised Edition] 

"A Wonderful Erotic Story Teller!" That's how Sabrina Smith Moses, erotica poet and author, describes the work of Sascha Illyvich. While Sheryl in Out About New Books, raves, "A good read, all of the stories [are] highly entertaining as well as being a sensual delight." Now in his first ever all Female Dominant story collection, this brilliant author of contemporary erotica deftly mixes action, love, romance, power, sexuality, sensuality, pain, suffering, and a little soul bleeding. As Sascha Illyvich says, "My BDSM is still highly mental, designed to break down the barriers preventing us from acting on our true nature. Each story deals with personal growth." In these six unforgettable short stories you will meet men who find that the pain they suffer at their Mistress' hands can't compare to the pain they feel when she's not near them. "Sascha Illyvich," Sabrina Smith Moses writes, "is a wonderful, erotic storyteller. He turns you on and tugs your heartstrings- at the same time! I highly recommend his work!" [Revised with a new introeuction]

Out Now: Jenny's Penance [A Tale Of Future Bondage, Book 4] By Cheryl Allen Tessler

Jenny's futuristic BDSM adventure continues in book four of this amazingly popular series: Jenny's Penance [A Tale Of Future Bondage, Book 4] by Cheryl Allen Tessler  

Jenny seems further from freedom than ever in this installment of this acclaimed BDSM science fiction series! The slaves are finally promoted to the second level of DiMarco’s operation, where the accommodations are nicer, maids replace masters, and employment opportunities are more varied.  Jenny’s maid, Rachel, anxious to get her charge promoted again, advises Jenny to cultivate regular customers, sleep with slaves other than Janet, and stay away from RT.  When Jenny ignores Rachel’s advice, the maid counters by forcing Jenny to visit Eric once a week.

Out Now: Kala's Kapture [Binding The Tease] By Valentine Adams

Here's a very special release for fans of well-written - and very hot - BDSM erotica: Kala's Kapture [Binding The Tease] by Valentine Adams

Kala’s Kapture is a new novel from bestselling author Valentine Adams.  Obadiah is an accomplished and well read, if somewhat compulsive, young man.  When Kala, a tease, comes to work at his place of employment, he is first taken by her beauty and flirtatiousness. But when he finds that her name, which comes from the Greek means “fire,” he is promptly consumed.  He must have her at any cost.  When the traditional methods fail him, Obie literally takes matters … well at least where the matter is the girl herself … into his own hands. He begins by binding the tease.... Another delicious feast of bondage and submission by the master chef of the genre!

Her Male Slave by Sascha Illyvich - eBook Promo

Here's a wonderful new promo for Her Male Slave by Sascha Illyvich - an excellent book by one of our best writers!

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Kathleen Bradean Likes Filthy Boys By M.Christian

Here's a very, very nice review of M.Christian's collection of queer erotica, Filthy Boys, by Kathleen Bradean:

I read a guide to reviewing books recently. It said a reviewer should be impartial. I can see that point of view; the work should be judged on its own merit. However, it's impossible for me to pick up a book by M. Christian and not have expectations that are based on previous works I've read. So I guess it's only fair to begin this review with full disclosure: I'm a fan.

I'm torn over the idea of erotica as a distinct genre, and M. Christian's work is fuel for this internal debate. In The Hope of Cinnamon, a future society rescues gay victims from Nazi death camps and brings them forward in time to a sanctuary. Gen, one of the Helpers who works to integrate the Rescued into their new home finds out that few of the Rescued successfully survive the transition. He decides to travel back in time to experience the death camps for himself so that he will have a better understanding of why the Rescued fail to thrive in a society that fully accepts them. While this story does touch on sex and sexuality, it is a great example of speculative fiction that prompts further examination of our time and how current and future gay generations need to be aware of the history of gay culture and see it in proper historical perspective instead of viewing it, and judging, through hindsight.

As much as I hate the term coming-of-age tale, Utter West is a near-future story that shows a character coming of age, and more. Pony is the narrator's hero, the one who escaped their suburban hell and went beyond it to something wonderful and mystical - or so the narrator wants to believe. Unaware that he's destroying the beautiful myth that's grown around his disappearance, Pony comes back as an ordinary adult, prompting the narrator to break free and take the journey Pony failed to make into the beyond of the Utter West.

If noir is more your style, enjoy M. Christian's homage to Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood Boulevard, or sink into the corner pocket of the night world of pool hustlers in The Hard WayThat Sweet Smell is really the scent of corruption, but keep telling yourself it's success, because in this story, that delusion is all the narrator has to cling to.

Moby is purely tall tale, told with the flair of real yarn-spinner. Could anyone stink that much, be that cussedly mean, or be that hung? It's all in the telling - joyously and outrageously over the top.

Or maybe you're in the mood for bittersweet romance and love. Flyboy is the soaring romance we all long for, crashed down to earth by the military's Don't Ask Don't Tell policy. And Love is a writer's story, about how much it means to us when our stories are wanted, and how hard it is to separate the pure love of acceptance from the physical.

And then there's horror. Friday Night at the Calvary Hotel is the hardest story to read in this collection for it's intense mix of sadism, masochism, religious imagery and sex. Stories like that cling to you long after you've put the book down. You decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but I like that. Suddenly, Last Thursday is horror of a different stripe - lush and gothic, where you might have to read a line several times before your brain accepts what it's telling you. That slow dawning of realization is delicious and shivery.

In the movie Sunset Boulevard, Joe Gillis says, "Sometimes it's interesting to see just how bad bad writing can be." Yes, but it's gratifying to see just how good good writing can be too. It's unfortunate that erotic writing has a reputation for bad writing, but sit down with this collection and let M. Christian change that prejudice.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Steve Williams Loves Very Bloody Marys

As part of the celebration of the re-release of his queer vampire/horror/humor novel, The Very Blood Marys , M.Christian has been posting some rave reviews for the book on his new site, M.Christian's Queer Imaginings.

Here's one he just put up - for others, just visit his site.

Muse Review:
M. Christian's excellent new gay vampire novel, "The Very Bloody Marys" has winged its way to you courtesy of Lethe Press. A tale of an undead San Francisco deputy called Valentino who's about as useful as George Bush with a rubiks cube, and how, once his boss goes missing, his life is about to get a whole lot worse as the weight of tracking down his hateful, demeaning and downright self-confidence shattering employer falls firmly on Valentino's shoulders.

Deftly, M. Christian has created a novel that is, in fact, a coming of age story in a sugary horror coating. Valentino goes through trials, such as confronting three Marys on Vespors, getting attacked by a pissed off Irish Faery called Liam - I kid you not - and having to contend with a chauffer called Mariah - please, God, let Mariah Carey play him in the movie, a zombie in drag, and she could warble all she'd like off camera just as long as, for those few seconds, she shuts the hell up (like her songs though!) - who is less than forthcoming when it comes to information or help of any kind. And so, time after time, Valentino must battle forces he has... well... to say he has no comprehension of wouldn't be quite fair. It's rather like giving an infant a blow torch and not expecting him to roast his little apple cheeks off (I'm suddenly quite hungy. Mutilation, even joking, shouldn't do that to a man).

Needless to say, there's a fair amount of swearing, some getting spanked with chains and a dollop of hard ass domineering, but you'll have to wait and see if Valintino, our underdog (who, incase anybody does want to make a film of this, I think I look quite like; hollywood, call me) makes it through this ... well, not alive... but... as dead as he was before... I guess.

M. Christian's writing really sparkles here, and his wit is obvious, and never labored. There's a lot to love, amongst characters like a talking cat addicted to cat nip, and a statue of Lincoln that is a wizard's personal butler. There were a few moments of perplexity on my part as I was reading through, but M. Christian does well in keeping you turning the page, and, whilst everything is tied up in the end rather niceley, this isn't forced and feels much better for it. In fact, I felt this one book would make an excellent start to a series, and I know I for one would be reading cover to cover.

There was one issue I had. Oh God, what an issue. I mean, really, Valantino fancying Nicholas Cage... well, I suppose, if you're a walking corpse your taste would change somewhat... but I'll let M. Christian off on that score, because Very Bloody Marys is one of the most entertaining little novels I've read in a good long while, and it does, as they say, exactly what it says on the tin.

4 Muses Out of 5! ***This Weeks Recommended Read.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Great Review for Memoirs Of A Sex Slave: The Confessions Of A Submissive Woman

Shocking in the best possible way. I'm a fairly recent convert to erotica in this form, and it's great to read a book that has been well-written, and has a considered storyline. In fact, the pace is somewhat like the acts described, teasing you with literary foreplay, then giving you a breather, before making you gasp at the, admittedly extremely graphic, encounters as you are swept along with Elektra's forbidden passions and desires. 
Read it. It's like having a really, and i mean REALLY, dirty dream, but you're awake. Read it in public, and feel the guilty pleasure of knowing the people around you don't know why you're smiling. 
Anthony JS 

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Monday, July 16, 2012


Sizzler Editions wants you to know about two new publications we are thrilled to be involved with. They aren't explicit, but they surely are sexy. Both ebooks are reprints of stories about the fantastic women superheroines of the the 1940s, the golden age of the comic book.

The Phantom Lady may seem tame now, but the covers were such outrageous exemplars of BDSM and what is called Good Girl Art (they were by the legendary Matt Baker, naturally) that they were condemned in Congress! (You will find a gallery of Phantom Lady covers at the end of the book and can make up your own mind about Baker's Phantom Lady art.)

"Diana the Huntress" as Wade Heaton writes in his knowledgeable Introduction, "is a very shapely, scantily clad piece of divine deliciousness, flitting about the planet combating various forms of historical, mythological, and pathological evil, while wearing a knockout golden (yellow or orange depending on ink supplies) one-shoulder mini-dress, tiara, earrings, sandals, bow, arrow, and quiver. But in her wartime and pre Cold War comic book world, no one, not even isolated males in combat or nasty gangsters, seems to notice. The reader, however, can’t help but be aware of the copious gams and sexy boob poses, along with the pinup girl postures Diana adopts while dispatching villainy all about her."

Out Now: Mistress Anna And Other Sizzling Erotica [revised edition] by Sascha Illyvich

Sascha Illyvich is one of our masters of not just erotic romance but steaming-hot BDSM as well, and with the release of a brand new edition of Mistress Anna And Other Sizzling Erotica shows just how good Sascha can be!

"DELICATELY WRITTEN B&D!" Get set for a double-sized portion of world-class erotica from the bestselling author of Sensualities. Included are reader favorites and all-new stories. Included are Mistress Anna, Office Assistant, Heat Wave, Demise, Sweltering, Warming Alyssa, She Brings Out, Adventurous, Chick N’ Stu , Making Amends, Promoter’s Fantasy, For Amber, and other scorching tales.  
As Ayden Delacroix notes in In the Library Reviews: "Mr. Illyvich wonderfully portrays the Dom/sub relationship as it can be: romantic, caring and full of love. While I found some of the stories contained a bit too much pain for my taste, they were still delicately written and contained the same warmth the lighter stories did. I look forward to reading more of Mr. Illyvich's work." Revised and with a new introduction.

Out Now: Their Toy By Jason Walker

Here's a very special treat: a brand new BDSM erotic masterpiece by a brand new author! Jason Walker's new book has everything a BDSM fan will enjoy ... pick up Their Toy and you won't be disappointed.

Ashley Wallace had an accident. By skidding through someone’s yard she set in motion a series of events that would not only change her life but the lives of many others along the way. Ashley was introduced to the domination and submission lifestyle and found that the best relationships can grow out of giving yourself over to someone, completely. After meeting the powerful and rich Daniel Stillwall and his submissive Evangeline, Ashley is drawn into the world of Domination and Submission only to find out that she doesn’t truly fit there. After a frightening episode with a rival of Daniel’s, Ashley finds out that having gotten into this relationship, she has allowed Daniel to bring retribution against that rival. Ashley learns through Daniel and Evangeline’s relationship what real love between two people is and just how strong the D/S relationship can be. Ashley Wallace soon discovers that while she may not fit as a submissive her involvement in the lifestyle shows her that there is a whole new World for her with these new people in her life. (M/F, F/F, Group, D/S, Bondage, O&A) If you like your bondage and discipline intense then look no further than this new treat from Jason Walker: Their Toy

Out Now: The Very Bloody Marys by M. Christian

Sizzler Editions is extremely pleased and proud to announce the re-release lof M. Christian's fantastic queer vampire horror/thriller/humor novel The Very Bloody Marys - you'll shiver, you'll laugh, and you certainly won't forget this book!

M. Christian's celebrated queer vampire adventure/thriller is back in a special new edition! Can San Francisco survive a marauding gang of Vespa-riding vampires? Before it's sucked dry, the city's only hope may be Valentino, who's only a trainee for the supernatural law enforcement agency, Le Counseil Carmin. Swept up in the whole blood-sucking business when his mentor goes missing, Valentino is called upon to deal with the menace of these "Bloody Marys." But Valentino soon realizes that, in order to dispose of the gang, he must go into areas he never dreamed of, deal with some very strange characters and learn the truth about the dark side of town.
"The Very Bloody Marys is a comic horror novel about vampires, ghouls, faeries, and the undead that move around after dark. Part chase, part gallows humor, and all shivery excitement, this new story from the wildly imaginative M. Christian is funny, frightening, and very entertaining.
"Valentino is a 200-year old rookie vampire cop who is fated to spend eternity as the screw-up assistant to undead drill sergeant cop and all around bastard, Pogue. That is, until Pogue mysteriously disappears. The powers (of the night) want Valentino to find Pogue and stop a rogue band of vampires who call themselves the Very Bloody Marys.
The only problem is that Valentino has no clue what he's doing. He stumbles around San Francisco, making an unholy mess of the case, while sinister otherwordly beings manipulate him into doing their bidding. Valentino isn't as hopeless as he thinks he is though, and manages to find out what happened to his mentor, figure out who the real bad guy is, and take down the Very Bloody Marys." - Kathleen Bradean
"If you’re looking for a good, fast paced read, or if you like mystery or fantasy or gay fiction. Or if you just want something different and new, this book will be as satisfying as a vampire’s first drink of blood." - Colleen Anderson
"M. Christian's writing really sparkles here, and his wit is obvious, and never labored. There's a lot to love, amongst characters like a talking cat addicted to cat nip, and a statue of Lincoln that is a wizard's personal butler. There were a few moments of perplexity on my part as I was reading through, but M. Christian does well in keeping you turning the page, and, whilst everything is tied up in the end rather niceley, this isn't forced and feels much better for it. In fact, I felt this one book would make an excellent start to a series, and I know I for one would be reading cover to cover." - Steve Williams
"M. Christian creates a variety of quirky characters from wizards to zombies to fairies, and the tone captures the feeling of a fast-paced horror movie, alternately funny and creepy." - HorrorWorld
"Atmospherically potent and stylishly polished, Christian marries suspense, terror, black humour and romance intelligently and wittily making The Very Bloody Marys a smart and fun addition to the bloodsuckingly camp vampire genre." - GayDar Nation

Friday, July 13, 2012

Excerpt From Jessica Lennox's Anything Goes: Queer Lesbian Erotica

Here's a treat: a peek into the beautifully sexy mind of Jessica Lennox from her new book, Anything Goes: Queer Lesbian Erotica


I’m no tattoo expert. I’m not a fanatic or even what most would consider an enthusiast. I admit I know almost nothing about tattoos except that they make me want to fuck, and they hurt like hell. I’m not in love with the hurt-like-hell part, but I enjoy the effect they have on me.

I’m not one of those people that enjoy the pain of a tattoo, but there is something seductive about knowing the person sporting the tattoo had the balls to withstand it. I’ve listened to people describe the pain as something akin to a religious experience, or something as blissful as sex. I’ll admit, I look at these people like they have three heads, because to me it’s more akin to an irritating, constant bee sting, and it takes every bone in my body not to slap or kick the person holding the tattoo gun.

Most tattoo shops are busiest late at night, when people are in the mood to party, or drink, or do something crazy, or all the above. When I arrived, it was still relatively early so there were only a few people hanging around - waiting to be worked on, I assumed.

Since I’d never been to this particular shop before, I walked around hoping I’d get a vibe from the place, trying to feel-out the people both working there and just hanging around.

Usually, staring at people is something that is frowned upon, but when it comes to tattoos, it’s welcomed and appreciated, so I indulged myself and let my eyes wander from stranger to stranger, staring at the depictions of women, animals, insects, flags, and a variety of other images worthy enough to adorn their skin.

After several minutes of euphoric lusting, I brought myself back to reality and began browsing the walls of endless designs. A few images caught my eye, and I noticed they were all drawn by the same artist – “Gia”. I asked the girl at the counter if the artist was available. Just my luck - she had an opening in an hour. I browsed some of the other designs out of boredom, then finally sat down, impatiently, grabbing a random magazine to pass the time.

Finally, Counter Girl told me Gia was ready for me and led me into the back area. As I followed her through the maze of hallways, I was impressed that each room was private, complete with a closable door. Most shops I’d been to had curtains between booths, at best.

As we stepped into a room at the end of the hall, the person I assumed to be Gia was standing with her back to me as she set up a small table of instruments. I sat down in a plastic chair and noticed that her arms and the back of her neck were adorned with gorgeous artwork. I let my eyes take it all in. Since it was obvious she was engrossed in what she was doing, I took advantage to indulge and stare to my heart’s content. Her tattoos were stunning, and I wondered who did them. Surely she couldn’t have done them herself.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally turned around, and I stopped breathing for a minute. I’ll admit, although I’d never been with a woman sexually, I had a crushing attraction for bad girl/tattooed/goth-girl types – and this one was certainly a stunner. She had an angelic face, but her dark makeup gave her a mysterious, hard-edged look, and her short black hair was sexy in contrast to her pale skin. The fact that her halter-top showed off her perfect breasts didn’t bother me at all either.

I didn’t know what else to do other than sit there and admire he until she finally motioned for me to sit on the table.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“Fuck me until I pass out” came to mind, but I reminded myself of my purpose for being here and replied, “I really dig your artwork. I don’t have a specific design in mind, though. Perhaps you can do something freestyle - something along the lines of a tribal design.”

Her body language was full of attitude as she stood there and looked me up and down for a few seconds. She’s probably had a thousand clients who didn’t know what the hell they wanted, and here I was – another one. After a short pause she crossed her arms and said, “Well, I could, but it’s better if you choose a design, that way there’s no misunderstanding. Know what I mean?”

I nodded, noticing for the first time that she had the tip of her tongue pierced with a small hoop through it. “I understand,” I said. “I’d be willing to sign something just so we don’t have any problem. I trust your artistic ability.”

She laughed and said, “Well, there’s no need for the signature. Let me just get a few specifics. Where do you want the tat?”

“Here,” I said, touching the right side of my groin area.

“Okay, I’ll have to shave you.” I could swear she smirked when she said that.
“I’m already shaved. Completely.”

Her eyebrows shot upward, then she asked, “How big do you want it?”

Again, my brain was going to the gutter, but I kept it cool and replied, “Nothing too big. About two inches around.”

“All right. How about something like this?” She pulled a page from a book and brought it over to me, showing me a tribal design encased in an octagon. As I studied the design, I couldn’t help but look at her glorious cleavage, which was now mere inches from my face. It took all my willpower not to lean over and lick her, but I finally got myself together and told her that the design was perfect.
“Great, let’s get started,” she said, shutting the door. “I’m going to need you to remove your shorts, and panties as well.”

“Okay,” I said, in a shaky voice. Did I mention that I hate the sting of the needle? And I was having some weird conflict between that and feeling excited at the same time. Not to mention, Gia’s energy was full of sexuality, and her hands were soon going to be on my half-naked body.

As I undressed, she turned her back to me, fiddling with things on the table. When I had everything off from the waist down, I sat on the table, put my hands in my lap and said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

She turned around, allowing her gaze to travel over my bare legs, then said, “I’m going to need you to lie back. That’ll keep the skin taut, and it’ll make it easier for me to work on you.”

Oh, I wanted her to work on me all right, but I tried to keep my thoughts in check as I eased myself backward. The table was cushioned with padded leather and a disposable linen cover, so it was soft and comfortable. Its reclined position made it so that I could see what she was doing, although I wasn’t sure I wanted to – I hated needles of any kind. As I tried to get my nerves under control, her voice startled me, causing me to jump slightly.

“I’m going to clean the area with alcohol. It’s going to be a cold, sorry.”
Even though she had warned me, I jumped when I felt the spray hit my skin. She placed her warm hand on my abdomen, and said “Easy” in a low voice, and that turned my arousal up a notch. This is not the state I wanted to be in. I wanted to be relaxed, not anxious and aroused. I tried to focus on anything but her hand, which was so close to my pussy that I wanted to scream, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I secretly wanted her to touch me there. But she was all business and seemed not to notice anything out of the ordinary as she wiped my skin clean with a sterile gauze pad.

Then I heard the buzz of the gun, and all thoughts of anything sexual disappeared in an instant. I tried to calm myself by breathing slowly and thinking about warm, tropical places and sandy beaches. I reminded myself about how happy I’d be when it was all over and I would be sporting a gorgeous new tattoo. It was a nice idea, but I bit my lip anyway, bracing against the pain.

As Gia worked on me, she kept moving her hand to different areas on my body, trying to get the best angle. I felt her fingers move from my abdomen, to my thigh, to my hip, and although I know she didn’t do this for any purpose other than her work, it was turning me on like crazy. I decided to use this as a distraction from the pain. I pulled my focus together, thinking only of her hand. No more thoughts of that annoying sting that kept biting me. Although my arousal was intensifying, I kept reminding myself that her touch was not for this purpose. But when she placed her hand just above my pussy to pull it taut, I couldn’t help but moan and arch my hips slightly. She looked up at me then and said, “Everything okay?”

I could feel my cheeks turning red, as I answered, “Yes, sorry.”

She smiled at me and said, “If you need a break, just let me know. Otherwise, I really need you to keep still.”

She had no idea how difficult a task that was proving to be, but I nodded anyway and forced myself to relax. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, keeping it steady and even, trying to forget the now insistent throb in my pussy.

As I began to finally reach a state of calmness, her voice brought me slamming back to present when she said, “You’re wet.”

My eyes flew open and I looked at her while she stared into my eyes, and then glanced down at my center of arousal. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. Instead, I lay there, mortified, my face turning fifteen shades of red.

“Do you like the sting of the needle?” she asked, running her finger lightly between my pussy lips. “Is that why you’re so wet?”

I shook my head no, still unable to speak.

“No? You could have fooled me,” she said as she dipped her finger in and pressed lightly on my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned, finding my voice and arching my hips toward her.
She put the tattoo gun down and ran her hands slowly upward, over my stomach, then back down over my thighs. “You have great skin,” she said, pushing my legs apart. Her voice was like liquid silk; I could have listened to it all day. I gladly let her spread my legs. “That’s it, let me open you up,” she said, using her fingers to part my swollen lips. I thought I was going to come just from watching her touch me, but when she leaned down and let the tip of her tongue glide over my pussy, I thought I was going to pass out.

As I lay there, moaning and panting, I suddenly I wondered if anyone else could hear me. Realizing they probably could, I tried to be quiet, but when she eased two fingers into my cunt, I gasped and moaned even louder.

“Ssshhhh,” she said, coaxing me to be quiet as she continued to trace my clit with her tongue. It felt good, but I wanted to come already. Her touch was so light though, I knew I needed it harder, and more friction. I thrust upward to try to get more, but she said, “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to spank you.”

I looked at her with an amused smile, but honestly I couldn’t tell if she was serious or kidding. I thrust upward once more and she surprised me by giving my pussy a quick, stinging slap.

I was so shocked I didn’t know what to do. I lay there, rigid and teetering on an invisible line between arousal and forfeiture. No, it was too soon to give up, I decided. I wanted to see where she was going to take me.

“Yes, Ma’am”, I answered, hoping that would signal to her that I wanted to continue.

“Good girl,” she said as she continued to play for several glorious minutes, her fingers in my cunt and her tongue on my clit.

“You’re so wet,” she said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that you do like the sting. Perhaps not from the needle, but maybe from something more intimate, like my hand. What do you think? Should we experiment a little?”

I whimpered, not sure which way to go, but she made my mind up for me by giving my pussy a little tap. That didn’t hurt at all. In fact, the pressure of it felt pretty good, if only for a moment. I wanted more and started to thrust upward, but then remembered she didn’t like that, and quickly stopped myself.

“Ah, you’re learning. That’s very good.”

She continued to administer quick slaps, a little harder each time, and with a little more frequency. The more she did it, the more aroused I got, and eventually I didn’t even mind that the slaps were getting harder. Finally I couldn’t control my body anymore, I had to move. I started thrusting my hips gently in time with her hand spanking my pussy, and she let me. At one point she pushed my legs apart, and the effect of her bare hand spanking my open pussy was almost too much to take. Each time her hand came down on me, she hesitated momentarily, keeping her hand there, putting pressure on my clit for a prolonged moment each time. I knew it was only a matter of seconds and I wouldn’t be able to hold off any longer. Finally she bent down and bit my clit gently, pulling it with her teeth, and that was all I could take. I gripped the table, clenched my jaw shut, and came in her mouth as she gave my pussy a few quick slaps while three of her fingers deliciously fucked me.

I finally collapsed against the table, exhausted. After a few moments, I forced my eyes to focus and looked at her with a mixture of relief and surprise.

She winked at me then said, “Welcome back. That was amazing, but I need to finish you off now.”

I gave a short laugh then said, “I think you just did.”

“No, I mean, your tattoo. It isn’t finished yet.”

“Oh, yeah,” I replied, suddenly aware that I wasn’t feeling any pain.

Thursday, July 12, 2012


Margie Church's The 18th Floor is one of Sizzler Editions bestselling books. She has recently released, Razor, with co-author K. B. Cutter. Both involve romance and bondage. Margie has a reputation for knowing more than anyone else around Sizzler Editions about how authors can promote books on the internet. Below she describes how authors can put together a "blog tour" to promote their books.

I'm sure you've heard big time authors talk about their book tours. When I got my first few contracts, many people asked if me I was going on a book tour. I laughed and said, "Yeah, as soon as I fill my trunk with the books and my tank with gas."

They looked surprised and maybe even a little disappointed, like they'd just been told the Tooth Fairy isn't real. What? You didn't know? Sorries!
What's evolved for today's authors and ebook publishers is the blog tour. Similar to book tours, but not as glamorous, they can be very effective. Some of us think that blog tours are going to automatically propel our book into the mega-sales stratosphere. It can happen, but I'd set my sights lower if I were you. Like ground level. For me, the primary objective of a blog tour is to meet readers. They don't always buy the second they see your book, but you plant the seeds of interest. Be friendly and engaging, and good things can happen. So, having said that, how can you organize a good blog tour?

1. Know your reader. Decide what kinds of people are most likely to want your book.

2. Remembering #1, don't blog where your readers aren't. There's an inclination to be fan-bloggy when you get started on book promotions. I'm convicted on that score. I used to blog anywhere I could. But choose your book tour locations carefully. If you write regencies, don't stop at a blog that focuses mostly on sci-fi. If a pal invites you in a situation like this, schedule a visit at another time. If someone you don't know offers to host you, ask for their blog link. Vet the site. If it's a fit, fine. If not, politely explain why you're passing. These blog tours are time consuming. You're looking for the biggest payoff possible.

3. Be original. Work on these posts. Provide something fresh at each stop. Dig deep to find different aspects of your book to highlight. Readers like to know the back story on the book development, key themes, character traits, favorite scenes, challenges, etc. Give them something worth reading! You'll be surprised how often readers will follow an entire tour once they get to know you. Make it worth their time.

4. Don't over-commit. Not too long ago, I wrote a book in a completely new genre. I had no idea how to find these readers, so I cast my net wide. It's crazy how many authors will offer to host you if you ask. I ended up with 40 stops in about six weeks. Some days I was on more than one blog. I swear some of my posts were on the merits of good line spacing and smart quotes versus curly quotes. I was totally out of original ideas. O.M.G. Here's my point. If you're sick of it the tour, think of your poor readers. They're going to tune you out. I think a few well crafted blogs at fewer, well-chosen stops are worth more than a glut of so-so material splashed everywhere.

5. Promote the tour. You can't leave it up to the hosts to do your promoting. Some authors create a blog tour banner. That's cool and does some work for you if you hyperlink the art to the tour list. Shout it out in your newsletter. Have the dates and locations handy on your blog and website. Promote each location the day of and include the next stop as a teaser. Ask other friends and authors to help you get the word out. Use a Facebook event invitation, too.

6. Be present and engaged. Another good reason not to over-commit is you need to be around, chatting it up, trying to engage visitors. Ask readers questions; have some fun.

7. Put your contact and buy links on every post. A link to your back list can land ancillary sales, information sharing, and recommendations to other readers.

8. Choose prizes carefully. I always look at prizes in terms of ROI. If I give away a Kindle, how many books will I need to sell to recoup that cost? Is it reasonable to think I'll sell enough books to do so? You will get a lot of traffic from people trying to win that great prize, but are they going to buy books, too? Think about that carefully. I'd rather give a copy of one of my books to a reader and hope they like it well enough to hunt for more afterward.

9. Thank your hosts. Ask for stats so you have some idea how well you did. Extend the offer to host them at your blog.

10. Don't be disappointed if you don't get tons of traffic. Like sales, you can't predict what will compel readers to come and to comment. You might make other kinds of connections that are valuable, too. Do your best and have some patience.

You might never have tried one of these tours or you might be an old hand. Wherever you stand on the subject, I hope you'll ask questions and add your experiences so we all can learn from each other. -Margie Church

Affair De Coeur Reviews RAZOR by Margie Church and K. B. Cutter

A Sizzler Editions publication

  Amy and Bryce live what seems to be the good life. A handsome couple doing well with their business, has money, and beautiful homes. So what is it Amy wants more of in her life? Well that is control in the bedroom. Bryce loves to be in control of all aspects of his life and that includes the bedroom and sex. He is like a Dom even though they are not into the lifestyle. Amy knows a lot about the Dom/sub lifestyle; her best friend Raine is a Domme and tells her all about it. So, Amy decides to ask Raine for help with the little problem she has with her husband. Bryce does not think his behavior is that big of an issue, but finds what his wife proposes to be interesting, especially with someone as attractive and sensual as Raine. 

  Raine can’t believe her best friend wants her to be a Domme Mistress to Bryce, but feels confident she can make him appreciate what Amy needs. That is until he makes her feel a need she never thought she would have for anyone. Once Raine tasted Bryce, she was not sure she could do as Amy wanted without someone getting hurt, and that someone was herself.

  Margie Church and K. B. Cutter have given their readers a thrilling sexual read in “Razor.” You not only have a marriage filled with love and romance, you have a hot triangle that will keep your mind spinning with a view of a world most don’t see each day. It’s a look into a Domme/sub/BDSM world and it will titillate your mind, body, and soul! So turn the pages of this wonderfully written book to find out if Amy, Bryce, and Raine can help each other and still be friends, or become much more. Or will it destroy them all at the end of this sizzling hot journey?

(Look for an early winter release of Book II, Razor: Desire’s Edge.)

Melody Prater from Affair De Coeur 

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

BDSM Reviews Likes Petslaves by N. T. Morley

Check out this rave review of Petslaves by N. T. Morley from the folks at BDSM Book Reviews:

Story rating: 4 out of 5 paddles
Sting factor (kink): 5 out of 5
What’s your dark fantasy that you don’t want to tell anyone about? Maybe it involves being a puppy or kitty? Maybe it involves humiliation and another woman? These are fantasies you don’t really want to happen to you, but reading them gets you so hot that you have to go “take care” of yourself? I LOVED Petslaves by NT Morley. This collection of stories is BLAZING hot. Each story aroused me to a feverish pitch. They are all depraved. There is not a single one with romance in it. If you are looking for romance, this is not the book for you. If you are looking for intense taboo humiliation, this is the book for you!


Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Excerpt From Memoirs Of A Sex Slave: The Confessions Of A Submissive Woman By Billierosie

Here's a special treat: a glimpse into the wonderfully erotic mind of Billierosie from her new book, From Memoirs Of A Sex Slave: The Confessions Of A Submissive Woman

She remembered, laying on the table in that sparse room, for what seemed like hours. As usual, her thoughts turned to sex and her fingers found her engorged clitoris. She wondered what it was like, just to have a tiny organ, like the nurse had. Maybe a large clitoris was something that the slave girls had in common. Certainly, the times that she had been ordered to suck on another slaves organ she had found the clitoris quite substantial. A meaty mouthful. The nurses clitoris was barely the size of a pimple.
She started to breathe heavily, as her arousal deepened. She masturbated her cunt in a frenzy. She closed her eyes and watched the colours, red, blue, yellow and purple exploding like shooting stars in her  dark vision. Then the full force of her orgasm hit her with such a power that she thought she would faint. She shouted out her guttural ecstasy, jerking, almost as if she were having a seizure.
The sound of a man clearing his throat, brought her back to reality. She whimpered her apology, knowing that she had been caught out in an act of gross indecency. He stood, staring his disapproval at her. She flushed her embarrassment. She could smell her juices and she was sure that this domineering man, this Master, could as well.
He was accompanied by six, no seven younger men. He was obviously their leader, in a position of authority. Like them, he wore a white doctors coat. But he had a flamboyant bow tie at his neck. Black with red spots. A badge of honour. She shuddered, the Marquis de Sades colours again.
The nurse, the woman who had raped Elektras mouth, stood next to the surgeon. She glared at Elektra, as if she had committed a vile sin.
At last the Surgeon spoke. Gentlemen, you see here before you a piece of owned flesh. A slave. We do not consider the specimen to be human; it is, in fact less than human.
Elektra lay on her back, her fingers sticky with her juices. Her thighs were still spread, frozen in the motion captured in her orgasm. Her clitoris moved and swelled, she could feel it becoming erect, stiffening. It was as if it could scent the testosterone and pheromones  in the room.
She didnt dare look any of the men in the eye. They were all her Masters for now. She couldnt plead for any compassion; there was no hope that any of them would contradict the Surgeon.
Is it the size of the clitoris that sets her, er, the creature apart from human beings? asked one of the students.
Exactly so, replied the Surgeon, beaming his approval at the student. We dont regard it as a deformity. But the fact that it is a monstrosity, and the fact that it dominates entirely this sluts life, puts it on a level with an animal in season. Imagine a bitch on heat, permanently on heat, thinking only of copulation and being driven by that primitive urgency, and you pretty well have the state of the whores mind.
It certainly appears to be aroused, remarked another student.
Just  feel the clitoris, said the surgeon, warming to his theme. Each one of you, test it between your finger and thumb.
Elektra closed her eyes and heard the snapping on of pairs of surgical gloves.
Sir, has the owner given permission for his property to be handled? the nurse interrupted.
Elektra burned with righteous indignation. The woman had not given a thought to her Masters permission when she had raped her.
He has indeed, replied the Surgeon haughtily. In fact the owner suggested it. He is all in favour of the study of this nefarious species.
The students jostled for places, eventually forming a queue.
Can you smell the sluts juices? one of the students remarked to the group in general.
As it perpetually produces lubricating fluids, the odour tends to be constant, said the Surgeon.
So, Sir, are you suggesting that this creature is really a separate species? asked one of the students.
Absolutely, replied the Surgeon. Experiments and research have reached an exciting level.
Elektras eyes were blurring up with tears. So now, she wasnt even considered a human being. The time would come, she was sure, when all sorts of tests and experiments would be conducted on her, and the other unfortunate women who were simply born with strong sexual appetites.
She felt the first tentative, sterile fingers rubbing into the petals of her clitoris and heard an exclamation.
Sir, it is moving of its own volition. It is stiffening and swelling.
Another set of fingers probed her. Squeezing, these fingers were clever, intending to arouse. A moan escaped her lips, her breathing increased. She forbad herself to orgasm, but by the time the third student touched her, her orgasm exploded from her. She wept her humiliation, as another wave swept over her, her back arching, she grunted and bellowed like a wild sow being mated by a hefty boar out in the fields.
You see, the Surgeon announced. Pure animal lust. The slut will orgasm more times than you can count if you let her.
When all of them had fingered her twice, and Elektra had orgasmed five more times, the Surgeon called a halt.
This is all very entertaining, he said. And theres nothing like hands on learning, but I have further tests to conduct. Put it in the stirrups, he ordered the nurse.
The nurse lowered the hoist, then with the assistance of one of the students, each leg was threaded into a canvas stirrup which rested under the knee. The positioning of the stirrups, pulled Elektras legs wide apart. The nurse then cranked a handle and pressed a button. There was a whirring noise and Elektra was raised bodily, her buttocks tilted at an angle from the examination table.
Is that a convenient height for you Sir? asked the nurse.
Thank you, yes, he replied.
He stood, facing Elektras splayed legs. She could feel her cunt mouth opening and closing in spasms. The nurse adjusted a bright light, to shine directly into Elektras hole. She heard the clank of metal and her heart raced in a panic, as she wondered what they were going to do to her. Something cold was inserted into her cunt, she moaned in her fear. The position she was in did not allow her to see the part of her body being manipulated. She prepared herself for pain and her muscles tensed. There was nothing she could do, she was held in position as securely as if shed been bound.
One of you fondle the sluts nipples, said the Surgeon. That usually calms them down. The trick would never work with a normal woman, but with these sluts, their minds are always on the seduction of the male. Any attention gratifies their obscene desires. No, dont attend to the clitoris, I dont want it to orgasm with the speculum inside it. It might rupture the vagina.
There was a hustle of movement as the students jostled to be the privileged one to play with Elektras tits.
She heard the sound of metal cranking. Metal grinding on metal.
Fingers squeezed and massaged her nipples; the sensation was indeed soothing to her and she relaxed and breathed more easily.
But something was happening inside her. She felt the uncomfortable sensation  of her cunt walls being pushed apart. The cranking sound continued, and with it the widening of her cunt.
The cervix is nice and ripe, remarked the Surgeon. And there is a good production of mucus. A healthy specimen I should say. One at a time please, all of you, come and look at the state of a healthy vagina and cervix
One by one, the students peered into Elektras cunt. She had never felt so exposed, with these young men examining her.
Now each one of you, tell me what you can feel when you touch the cervix.
Elektra felt the probing fingers insinuating inside her. She listened to the crude remarks, which the surgeon either didnt care about, or mind.
Is this what you call a fat cunt? she heard one of the students giggle.
A dripping wet cunt. I should say, laughed another.
Sir, the cervix feels as if it should be bigger, said one of the students.
Exactly. said the Surgeon. We only see the part of the cervix the intrudes into the vagina. I hope all of you have noticed this.
Would you say that the creature has been well used? asked one voice.
Difficult to say, responded the surgeon. With these sluts, the muscled walls of the vagina tend to be very elastic. Rest them for a few weeks and for the Master, the sensation is exquisite. Like having sex with a virgin. Indeed, this creatures vagina, despite being considerably stretched,  will have resumed its functioning size in a few hours, and the creature will be fit for use.
So this was how normal healthy men thought of women like her, thought Elektra. They didnt even consider her human, with feelings, feelings that were desperately hurt from their lewd conversation. They hadnt cared, or even noticed that she had heard.
Slowly, gently, with tender care the speculum was removed from her.
Always remember, when dealing with these creatures, the surgeon said to his disciples. That you are dealing with owned property. The owner will probably have paid a fortune for his animal, and even more money will have exchanged hands to have it trained to his satisfaction. He may be loaning the medical authority the animal to cover his costs. The authorities will pay a considerable fee to have the freedom to experiment on such a creature.
Elektra could sense that the group were spellbound.
Whwhat sort of experiments Sir? one student stuttered.
A student of mine has recently presented a paper on crossing the species, the surgeon announced. His name? Quentin Hacket-Jones. You may have heard of him.
Elektra had. Her mind went back to her early days as a slave, in Marks apartment. Quentin Hacket Jones had been there and had spoken openly about animals being mated with humans. He had talked about producing offspring from such a perverted union. All in the name of science. She remembered he had brought her to a profound orgasm when he had casually fingered her. She had sucked his thick cock. He had nearly suffocated her.
You mean Sir, it is entirely possible to cross the species?
A pregnancy has yet to go full term and the laws prohibit it at present. But it is only a matter of time.
A woman mated with a dog, could produce a litter of pups?
Half human half beast. A chimera. The .Man-Beast hybrid has gone beyond the talking stage. According to a story that appeared in the Edmonton Journal in 2001: Melding man and beast may sound like the stuff of science fiction, but its not. Amid all the advances in genetic manipulation, the idea of
combining the DNA of animal and humans has been attemptedThe first publicised  case of animal-human hybrids took place in 1996 when Jose Cibelli, a scientist at the University of Massachusetts, took DNA from his white blood cells by swabbing the inside of his cheek. He then inserted the DNA sample into a hollowed-out cow egg.
Elektra listened to the Surgeon s speech.  Yes, it was only a matter of time, she thought. And despite being saddened by the thought of such an experiment being conducted on a slave, she was strangely excited by the notion.  Her clitoris swelled and pulsated as the nurse gently lowered her body back onto the table.
One of the students noticed and laughed. Look Sir, he pointed at her moving organ. the creature is aroused at the thought of such an unnatural copulation.
Indeed, replied his mentor. Never forget that these creatures are entirely motivated by the clitoris and the overwhelming urge for orgasm. No depravity is closed to them. And dont be duped into thinking that these creatures spring only from the lower classes. It is a well known fact that convent educated girls, are the most debauched. And there are examples of these whores historically. The Empress Catherine of Russia, Queen Pasiphae of Crete. Both are recorded as having indulged in acts of Bestiality. The Empress Catherine, with a horse,  Queen Pasiphae copulated with a bull, and gave birth to a flesh eating creature, half man, half bull. The Minotaur. A true chimera
The students were vociferous in their disgust, but Elektra noticed that all of them were squirming in their discomfort of what she was sure were erections.  She could smell the musky odour of male arousal. Some of them were visibly rubbing their cocks beneath their white coats.
 Now then, I have a further procedure for you to observe. The creatures owner informs me that when it is penetrated anally, the creature experiences rectal orgasms. I intend to discover, not only if this is possible, but true.
Elektras eyes widened as the nurse handed the Surgeon a pair of long, latex gloves. He held up his hands, for her to help him put them on. When it was finished they reached beyond his elbow. How far did he intend to crawl inside her? She was horrified, yet, as usual, the notion of having her rectum filled aroused her. She let out a long sigh. She supposed she must be everything that the Surgeon had said she was. Surely a normal woman would not relish the thought of having her anus stuffed in front of these decent young men?
I want the creature on all fours, ordered the Surgeon.
Electra turned as best as she could on the narrow table and got into the appropriate position.
Forearms flat on the table. Arse high in the air.
The students giggled nervously as Elektra assumed the pose.
The nurse poured a quantity of lubricant,  smearing it over the Surgeons glove.
Now notice how I am forming my fingers into a duck billed shape, he announced. And also notice how the creatures anus is already anticipating pleasure.
The was a shuffle of students hurrying around to Elektras rear end to observe her puckering anus. She could feel the gateway to her hole opening and closing.
Do you mean that it really does enjoy this procedure? It is disgusting. No decent woman would permit this sort of invasion.
You are learning quickly, said the Surgeon. “”Now I shall proceed.
Elektra felt the pressure against her puckered dirt hole. And she felt it relax as the fingers pushed through. He was in, pushing gently, then retreating, giving her rectum time to contemplate the invasion. Her muscles contracted, and he stopped, giving the muscles time to relax.
Its rectum muscles have just contracted around my hand, he announced. Now should I press on, or stop? Quickly now.
You must stop Sir, until the hole is relaxed, said one of the more astute students.
Exactly so, beamed his mentor. Never, ever force the body. It is almost as if you wait for the muscles to grant permission.  Now, as I push, the sphincter has let me in and you will see that I am fully inside the creature, up to my wrist, in fact. This, I have achieved through timing and patience.
Elektra felt wonderfully full. It was a strange sensation; the heaviness in her bowel delighted her, yet her muscles wanted to push him out of her. The passage, after all was not intended to have something travelling in this direction and she relaxed, doing her best to give his hand further access.
Sir, is it possible to open out your hand inside the rectum?
It is possible, certainly, the creatures rectum is very spacious. But remember, we are dealing with fragile membranes. There is a risk of tearing. Take it in turns to gently push your fingers into the creatures vagina, you will experience a strange sensation.
There was the sound of  gloves being removed. The students wanted to feel her cunt and not through latex.
One by one, the students fingers pressed into Elektras cunt. There was great excitement and exclamations.
Sir! I can feel your hand pressing against my fingers. The membrane separating vagina and rectum must be very fine.
Elektra moaned as the sensation of having her cunt filled with probing fingers, and her dirt hole stuffed with a hand overwhelmed her. She started to sway in a rocking motion.
Exactly, said the Surgeon. This is an excellent opportunity for you to observe female anatomy in the flesh. Far more use to you all than pouring over text books.
Elektras mouth hung open and one of the students had the idea of pushing his fingers into her mouth, for her to clean them. She lapped hungrily, as each student copied the first. These young men were her Masters and she knew she had to obey the silent order.
The Surgeon moved his body position, to negotiate the twists and turns of Elektras internal organs, as slowly, slowly, inch by exquisite inch, the hand pushed further into her bowel. The feeling of being so completely stuffed was incredible. The build up of pressure and fullness, associated with defecation made her muscles contract as her body tried to push out the hand groping inside her.
Her long low moan was continuous now, as the hand reached higher inside her. She sounded like a cow in labour. The hand pushed on, retreated, then pushed with a rush further in. She rocked with the motion of the Surgeon. Swaying, as her  body accepted him.
My God, Elektra heard one of the students say. Hes right inside the creature; it looks amazing.
Another student took out a small camera from his white coat pocket and photographed  the arm spearing into Elektras stretched anus.
Elektra drooled saliva from her open mouth. One of the students was unable to contain his arousal any longer. He groped beneath his white coat and took out his erect cock. He caught the Surgeons eye.
Use it, he commanded. That is what it is there for.
The cock was thrust into Elektras mouth. She feverishly lavished attention on it. Gobbling, licking and sucking.
 Three other students  were openly masturbating.
It happened so suddenly, that it took her by surprise. Her whole bowel contracted. The Surgeon let out a bellow of pain as her muscles held his wrist in a vice like grip.
Its squeezing the life out of me, he shouted. Somebody do something.
Elektra had no control over her the way her rectum muscles were behaving; all she knew was that she was having the most erotic experience of her life. For what seemed like a long time, but was probably only minutes, she seemed to float out of her body. The wonderful tingling sensations were all there; she felt sublime. She floated up to the ceiling and perched on top of a wall clock. She saw herself on the table, a woman abused, yet in control. The Master was no longer in control, the nurse was doing her best to calm the situation. She saw her body rocking to an ancient, primal rhythm. Her large breasts hanging and swaying.
Then just as  quickly she slammed back into her body.
 Elektra couldnt put into words, when she told her Master much later, what had happened. All she knew was that her pelvis pushed back on him, and she fucked herself on the Surgeons hand. She had no control over what was happening; this was what her body demanded. She had screamed in her ecstasy, as the rhythmic spasms consumed her. Her hands left the table and she clawed at the students cock, digging her finger nails into his testicles ,and still her body fucked itself on the Surgeons hand. Her pelvis gave another hard push against him and the hand slipped even further in. It was as if her bowel had given way and sucked him in.
The Surgeon was weeping noisily at the cramping pain in his wrist, as Elektra  bucked and almost fell from the table. The student with his cock in her mouth, orgasmed, his spunk splattering over her face as she sank her sharp white teeth into his cock, her incisors dragging, tugging at his foreskin. He howled his protest. Her muscles continued to contract and release as he pulled his torn cock from her bloodied mouth. Spunk splattered  in her hair and on her shoulders, from the other students.
His foreskin hung in a bloody mess of gore. Elektra looked like a priestess from a Dionysian fertility Rite. The Rites of long ago, when on a quiet Greek island, the Priestess Ariadne had ripped off the Kings genitals with her teeth, chewing them, spitting out the stringy bits, before devouring them.
She was still on all fours; saliva, spunk and blood drooling  from her mouth, her voluptuous breasts, like udders were swaying. Her auburn hair, streaked with sweat, blood and matted with spunk, hung in tangled ropes over her face.


Elektra remembered that there had been such a fuss afterwards. A visitor to the festival had been wounded by one of the slaves. But the student doctor had signed a disclaimer, stating that he entered the Marquis de Sade festival at his own risk. All of the visitors had to, otherwise they were not allowed entry to the chateau.
Elektras Master had told her that she was a credit to the spirit of the Marquis de Sade. The old pervert would have been proud of her. He also said that the student was lucky that she had only circumcised him; had she bitten harder, she would have castrated him.