I am very excited!

June 25, 2011
I am very excited at the moment, not just because the sun is starting to shine and I can feel its warmth on my naked skin, although that is very very good. The last two months have been very busy, I’ve lots of stories submitted, accepted and coming out.
Foremost of these is a story in a bondage anthology published by the gorgeous Sascha Illyvich, check out his site http://whitewolfwriting.blogspot.com/, there is a beautiful photo of a woman’s legs that I’ve fallen in love with. My story is a retelling of The Snow Queen with, needless to say, lots of added naughtiness. Followers of my work will know that I adore strong women and she has to be one of my favourite creations. Buy the anthology, release date being 17 July and see what you think http://shop.renebooks.com/
I have another story in another great anthology, ‘Adam and Eve’ will be appearing in all their naked glory in Erotica Apocrypha
interpretations of myth and the divine http://www.freakyfountain.com/?page_id=289 It is a story that I am very proud of, more of a literary bent than some of my work and will appeal to my readers who enjoyed Sex in the City: London http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_1_22?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=sex+in+the+city+london&sprefix=sex+in+the+city+london.
I will also have a story in an e-book which should be on Amazon soon. That is definitely one for more hardcore fans. The e-book is being edited by Barbara Cardy, who also did The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions http://www.amazon.co.uk/Barbara-Cardy/e/B0036X92NE. I have a confession in there, buy the book and see if you can guess which one is mine! A free e-book for anyone who gets it right.
And for those of you who like me enjoy the anticipation and the tease, I’ll reveal to you that I’ll be soon working with http://www.secretcravingspublishing.com/ They gave my my quickest acceptance ever EVER! and I’m very much looking forward to editing my story with them.
So I am working hard for you, giving you lots to get excited about in your summer reading, so give something back and help me out. I have far too many free evenings at the moment. Recommend some good burlesque nights, fetish parties, dogging sites(?)…anything that you think I might like and maybe I’ll see you there. Maybe you can inspire my next story…. 😉

Darren Harris Loves Me — Clarice Clique

May 30, 2011

My Latest Story on http://www.everynighterotica.co

“I love fat women,” he says.

On another day I would have hit him, not a proper hit, but a definite nudge in the ribs that would have made him think twice about what he says to me. In another mood I would have laughed and asked him why he keeps dating all those models then, the ones who disappear when they turn sideways. But today in this mood, with him staring me in the eyes with those beautiful baby blues of his, I know that he isn’t saying he loves fat women. After knowing me for most of his life, surviving the trauma of school, the disappointment of exam results. After sharing the stories of all the people we kissed, the ones we nearly kissed, the ones we didn’t kiss, and the best stories of all, of the ones we did a hell of a lot more with than just kiss. After struggling through what sometimes feels like way too many years of adulthood together, supporting each other through the stress of trying to be proper grown ups and get responsible jobs and respectable homes filled with all the mod-cons bought on credit cards way too flimsy to support the weight of our debt, before realising neither of us have what it takes to be happy being a proper grown up. After all this, and way, way more than I can think of right now, Darren Harris is finally saying he loves me.

And there are so many words I want to say. So many questions. So much happiness that I will never be able to tell him. I almost tell him I love him, but it is too soon. I need to wait, let my mind get used to how life is going to be now. Now that Darren Harris has admitted he loves me.

So instead I say, batting my eyelashes for the whole of Britain,“That’s a funny coincidence because I wouldn’t mind having sex with a ridiculously skinny, but still OK looking guy.”

Darren looks left then right and I am suddenly aware that we are in a busy bar and there are lots of people around us, for a moment there it felt like it was just me and Darren, Darren and me, in some alternate world of fluffy clouds, beautiful butterflies, pretty pink flowers and chocolate houses.

“Maybe you could ask that guy over there if he fancies a shag then?” Darren says with mock seriousness. “I’d love to oblige you but unfortunately for both of us I’m not ridiculously skinny, I’m perfectly normal sized, and I’m not OK looking, I’m fucking gorgeous.”

And even though he’s joking, he is telling the truth. There was a time a few years ago when I couldn’t leave the house without seeing his face on the side of a bus, plastered on a billboard, or on the cover of some glossy magazine with red letters over his stomach claiming to reveal the secrets of how to get the perfect six pack.

I shrug. “I guess some women might find you gorgeous, but you’re not really my type. Don’t worry, honey, though, I’d still say you’re OK.”

For a too long moment Darren looks all serious, and even hurt. And I’m scared that I’ve done it all wrong. Why am I teasing him? We’ve always teased each other. But this should be different. Darren has just told me he loves me. Kind of. And I’ve just told him he is too skinny and I don’t really fancy him. I’m considering dropping to my knees in the middle of the bar and telling him that I would happily spend the whole of my life worshipping him as the sexgod he so obviously is. But luckily before I can do this he laughs and grabs me around the waist.

“I’ll show you how OK I am,” he says.

And then there is no more teasing. No more anything. Because his lips are on mine, his tongue is pressing into my mouth, exploring, licking across my teeth. I didn’t know teeth could feel anything, but his tongue on my teeth is making me tingle. I mean really tingle, tongue on clit type of tingle. Or maybe it is the way his hands are moving, one on my bum gently kneading my flesh and the other on the back of my neck, lightly caressing my skin. And suddenly there is a thought somewhere in my brain. That even though this is the first time we’ve ever been like this, this won’t be like any other first time with any other man. And not just because he is Darren Harris, the sexiest, most gorgeous man imaginable. But because he is Darren Harris my best friend forever, and I’ve told him everything. Without ever having touched me like this before, he knows every detail of all the funny little things that make me wild. And I know every detail of all the funny little things that make him wild. Except I can’t do anything. I can’t even kiss him back. I am like a statue. A shaking, trembling statue whose heart is beating so fast it feels like it is going to explode. And then Darren pulls his tongue out of my mouth, and then thrusts it back in, so fast. Again. And again. He is fucking my mouth. And it feels like my heart has exploded and the world has stopped.

Somehow I pull away from him and take him by the hand. And I realise I wasn’t actually shaking before. Now I am shaking.

“You have to fuck me right now,” I say.

I walk in some direction. I have no idea where I am going. We’ve been in this bar hundreds of times and right now it looks totally foreign to me. But he takes control. He leads me outside, and the air is cold and I feel like it is going to wake me up. But I am still in a dream as Darren has led me into some alleyway and he is pressing me against the brick wall. I’m aware of a vague amazement in me at his strength as he supports my whole weight.

“Did you come back there?” Darren asks.

I look at him properly and see his eyes are wide, they almost look black his pupils are so big. And I see that he is as amazed and breathless and shaking as me. Well, maybe not quite as bad as me, but he is so close.

“I don’t know.” I say. “I don’t know what that was. That was beyond orgasm.”

Darren’s hands are underneath my top, pulling my breasts out of my bra. The bricks are rough on my back, but his touch is rougher, pinching down on my nipples. I cry out and he steps backwards.

“Sorry, it shouldn’t be like this. I’ve wanted to touch you for so many years and now I’ve ruined it by getting too carried away. Please give me another chance. Let me do it properly. Say you’ll agree to go on a date with me. Let me take you to an amazingly expensive restaurant. There’s a place in Paris, I’ve heard they make the best chocolate in the world. Let me take you there. Let me start again and maybe we can forget about me being an animal and trying to hump you in the street.”

I put my arms on his waist and pull him back against me.

“I told you in the bar that you have to fuck me right now. You can do all the other stuff later, especially Paris and chocolate, we’ve got plenty of time, but I meant what I said, I want to be fucked right now, Darren Harris.”

He opens his mouth like he is going to say something, but I don’t want words, I’ll be so happy being his princess but now I am the animal and all I want to be is a complete slut, his complete slut, his whore. I want to be Darren Harris’s fucktoy. I don’t say this. I kiss him. I push my tongue hard into his mouth. I raise my right leg and wrap it round his thighs, one of my hands raises my skirt and pushes my knickers to the side, I rub my naked sex against his trousers staining them with my wetness, my other hand reaches into his back left pocket and pulls out the condom he always keeps there. I hand it to him to open. He tears it slowly as if he is the one that can’t believe what is happening. I’ve undone his belt, his fly and released his hard cock in the time it takes him to take the rubber out of the packet. He is equally slow and careful placing it over his prick. Another time I will show him my trick of putting it on with my mouth, but right now I am grateful for his slowness, enjoying the chance to just stare at his manhood, watch his fingers as they pull the thin material further down until the rim is touching his dark pubic hair. The air is filled with the smell of the fresh condom, it is the most beautiful smell in the world as it means in moments Darren Harris’s cock will be inside me. He licks his thumb and begins to rub against my clit, but I stop him. For the first time in my life I don’t want foreplay, I just want to be fucked hard.

We stare hard into each other’s eyes, we are both breathing hard, more panting than breathing. Then he grabs my thigh and pushes my leg higher. Then he is inside me. One long hard thrust. No more teasing. I cry out. He grunts. He grabs my other thigh and he is holding me as he rams my pussy. Somehow he moves his hands round, they are under my ass. A finger is pressing between the curves of my buttocks. He is fingering my ass with the same rhythm he is fucking my pussy. I am screaming. The people we left behind in the bar can probably still hear us. And he is going faster. Part of me wants to shout at him to stop, it doesn’t feel like my body can take anymore, but with every thrust I am yelling at him to fuck me harder. I am scratching his back. I am pulling his hair. I can feel another orgasm spreading through me and I want him to come with me. I rip at his shirt and pinch as hard as I can on his nipples, I lean forward into him and bite as hard as I can down on his neck. And we come. One wild animal howling out its pleasure into the dark night air.

“I love you,” he says.

“I think you might be better than OK,” I say.

And he is laughing kissing every part of my face. And I am so happy. Darren Harris loves me. Darren Harris is inside me. And me and Darren are together now. And forever.

Have you read the review of ‘Like A Queen’ by Kissed by Venus?

May 5, 2011

Kissed by Venus is a web site for the discussion and promotion of lesbian literature. They publish lesbian fiction, articles, book reviews and interviews.

Here is a short extract from the review on the anthology, Like A Queen: “As the title suggests, there are queens in this anthology: imperious women who expect to be obeyed and who openly seek carnal knowledge of wenches and princesses. What damsel could refuse them, and what man would dare intervene? However, the most fascinating characters in these stories are the witches, magical women who bend reality to their will and who recognize other women like themselves. There are some witch-queens here who combine characteristics of both, but in any contest of ‘Who Is Sexiest of Them All,’ the resourcefulness of the witches beats the regal panache of the queens hands down.

You can read the whole article here http://kissedbyvenus.ca/?p=2722

Club Rack

March 18, 2011

On Saturday 5th March I attended Mistress Rouges famous Club Rack. It is an excellent club based in the West Midlands located just of the M6 at Junction 10. The venue is discreet and secure and the night is for the discerning FemDomme, Sadist and Masochist. It is extremely well equipped. Events/games are arranged for the amusement of the Dommes. Corporate play is instigated under the safe eye of Mistress Rouge where she embraces RACK; Risk Aware Consensual Kink.

It is an exclusive play night for Female Dominant Sadists without the usual constraints. You are encouraged and free to embrace and express sadism but also to socialise and share interests. A buffet and drinks are provided.

I loved the atmosphere which was so welcoming and enticing. The play ranges from mild to extreme. It was lovely to share ideas and learn new skills and techniques from others. I would encourage and welcome these themed nights but attendance is by invite only. mistressrouge@msn.com


Attending Club Lash

February 15, 2011

On Friday I attended Club Lash.  Club Lash is a Fetish/SM event in Manchester which is held every second Friday of the month at The Tunnel in Legends, Manchester.


I was left with two endearing thoughts of Club Lash, one was the friendliness of the participants and the second was the magnificent costumes. But then the Rules of the Club is, to dress to impress. The members certainly achieved this.


I was made to feel so welcome and was devoured by hugs and embraces from all. One particular couple from Bradford were enticing and the lady’s outfit was spectacular. It was figure hugging and extremely sensual.  I struggled to keep my hands of her.


The club embraces all genders and all appeared to be present, particular males dressed in feminine outfits. I was surprised how many males are blessed with stunning legs! One lovely aspect of the club s you recognised the beauty of all people, of all sizes and shapes and of all genders. There is also a play area which you are welcome to join in or merely watch the activities that occur.


Entry is £15 for non members and £8 for members. If you are travelling to Manchester and need accommodation, there is a special deal available with the International Hotel which is just round the corner and on the same block as Legends. The Hotel was very pleasant and if booking there do mention that you attending Club Lash to get your discount.


I would strongly recommend that you visit this wonderful club. Do not allow the fact you have nothing to wear to forgo a visit. Many people attend and are able to dress to the monthly theme with so little expense, but this does not prevent the regular fetish goers to impress with their amazing outfits. Like wise, do not worry about your shape or size. You will find many people there that have shapes and sizes greater than your own. Yet you will recognise the beauty and sexuality from the diversity.



My new boots



Review of 2010 – Best Album

January 3, 2011

This is a current sounding album. Full of energy with diverse sounds that breathes and stretches yet gel so well together with uncommon skill. Ranging from “Modern Man” and “Suburban War” which rings of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, to alternative styles of ELO, Depeche Mode, Springsteen and Neil Young. The diversity of sounds is seen from “Month Of May” which is polished punk rock reminiscent of Manic Street Preachers to the acoustic strum of “Wasted Hour”

But its not just the sounds that emancipate from this classic album the lyrics are also sublime. It touches the generational loss of innocence, “a dead star collapsing / we could see that something was ending /Are you through pretending? / We saw the signs in the suburbs” In “Rococo” “using great big words they don’t understand”,

“I need the darkness / can you please cut the lights?” such lyrics may seem insincere from a band standing on worldwide success, but of course their journey to worldwide acclaim is unique. Suburbs is a thrilling complex and captivating album yet retainsd the magic of the their albums that proceeded it.

The album received three nominations at the 53rd Grammy Awards: Album of the Year, Best Alternative Music Album, and Best Rock Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocals

Mike Diver, writing for the BBC wrote, “The Suburbs is most thrillingly engrossing chapter yet; a complex, captivating work that, several cycles down the line, retains the magic and mystery of that first tentative encounter.” Referring to the critically acclaimed 1997 Radiohead album, Diver went on to say, “You could call it their ‘OK Computer’.  But it’s arguably better than that.”

Emily Mackay reviewing for NME, gave the album a score of 9 out of 10 and said, “They’ve judged their moment perfectly, and this deserves to be their ‘Automatic fr the People’; an album that combines mass accessibility with much greater ambition. Pretty much perfect, in other words – and despite their best efforts, listening to it feels just like coming home.”

Arcade Fire – The Suburbs



Ready to Start


We used to Wait


Month of May


Another story published in Chrissie Bently’s ‘The Bad Girl’s Sweet Kiss’.

November 8, 2010

On November 3, Xcite Books released The Bad Girl’s Sweet Kiss: A Blow-by-Blow Anthology of First-Time Fellatio and Other Oral Delights.

In ‘The Bad Girl’s Sweet Kiss’ Chrissie Bentley has brought together her own experiences as well as those of many other erotic writers from all over the world. Everybody’s first time is different. This is a lovely collection of believable, detailed situations that may well remind you of the way it happened to you. You’ll find something to shock, titillate and amuse you.

This collection, is available as an e-book for £2.99, is edited by Chrissie Bentley and Miranda Forbes and is available from http://www.xcitebooks.co.uk/category-208/9781908006639.html

I am sure you can remember the day you lost your virginity but what about Oral sex? Can you remember when or with whom?  Maybe you can only remember his first name, ‘Mitchell … well, I can’t remember his last name anymore’. Shame on you, Reena.

How did you get on? Where you and expert like Marion who practised on bananas? ‘I’d peel ‘em back and see how far down my throat I could stick one.’ She claims that her lucky guy would never have believed that it was the first time she had sucked a guy off. Or where you terrified of making a fool of yourself? Did you have an inkling of what to do from a magazine of Cosmo or from a Porno?

What about the taste? Did you like it? Well never mind if you didn’t for your could always use a strawberry flavoured spray. That’s what Eleanor did. I guess it makes sense as she loves strawberries and cream.

How did it go? Was it messy? ‘I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to get great globs of dried come out of your hair, but it’s not easy.’ Hey but at least Lisa never got any come over her new blouse.  Maybe it was not quite what you expected when you were told that she wanted to kiss you on your lips? And Paul was really not expecting it to taste sweet. Yet it was only the taste of a cock that Gieselle recalls, she says it was sweet and salty, though she has no recollection whether it was big or small, or firm or flimsy, or veiny or smooth.

The men and women who tell their stories in this collection know what oral sex is. They know of its intimacy and its eroticism. This is a book about their first experience with oral sex. And the stories are as varied as the writers themselves. If you want to know about my experience well you will just have to read about it.

October 23, 2010

Warning this site contains adult material.  If you have not yet reached the aged between 18 or 21,  depending upon your location, please leave.  If you are an adult, please be warned that this site contains sexually orientated material. You must exercise your judgement, deciding what you should and should not read.


October 23, 2010

Ten Days In Penny’s Hands by Clarice Clique, D/s Erotica

Vanessa visits her good friend Penelope in hopes of sorting out her messed up life and receives an intriguing proposal in return.

Copyrighted © 2009 by Clarice Clique, all rights reserved.


The velvet hood that had been placed over her head prevented her from seeing any of the men that surrounded her. Nothing, however, could block out the strong smell of cigar smoke and expensive alcohol and, more than that, the indescribable but unmistakable scent of pure masculine sexual energy. She didn’t know how many of them there were watching her, there were many voices, but they all seemed to merge into one single command that she immediately obeyed.

Undo your blouse…take your skirt off…show us your tits…that’s it pull your panties to the side…now bend over…

She was naked dancing for them, gyrating and shimmying, willing them to gaze on and desire the sexual perfection of her body.

Fuck me, she thought, one of you bastards, all of you bastards, please fuck me.

But she didn’t have to wait for them; she reached between her legs and rubbed her fingers over her wet sex. This simple action was enough to provoke the men into action.

On your hands and knees, bitch.

Without thinking, she dropped to her knees.

Open your mouth.

Her lips parted and, immediately, a hard cock was pushed between them. There was no gentleness, just sexual hunger, as it was thrust into her throat making her gag. Then there were hands on her hips and another cock pressing into her pussy. She would have gasped with the sheer size, but the cock fucking her mouth prevented her. As these two men roughly used her, she felt more hands grabbing at her, pulling on her nipples, pinching her flesh. She felt the orgasm tear through her body in a way that was almost painful. Then, just as she was about to come, everything stopped.

Vanessa woke up panting. It took her a few moments to realize it had been a dream, that she was alone in her bedroom, and there were no men around her desperate to touch her exposed body. It was the third dream she had had about sex in as many days. At least this one was tamer than the rest.

She sighed; and, even if she couldn’t ignore the fact that her body was still reacting to the dream, she began to let the reality of a normal Sunday morning slide over her. Her head was pounding, and her mouth felt like she had been getting tongue friendly with a very smelly dog. She slowly, extremely slowly, swung her long legs out of bed, without wanting to she caught a glimpse of her reflection in her full length mirror and immediately looked away again. Her long blonde hair was a mass of tangles, and her face was haggard and wan. The phrase dragged through a hedge backward came to mind. She searched her mind to try and remember if she had done anything particularly embarrassing the night before. And then Gary walked into her room.

The sight of his near naked body made Vanessa think she might still be dreaming. Except she knew she wasn’t. Her memory was beginning to painfully return.

“That was some night last night, wasn’t it?” Gary’s voice cut through the air, making her head pound. “I couldn’t believe it when you started feeling me up. I mean, right from the day I moved in I’ve wanted you. I didn’t think women ever looked like you do in real life. All the lads want you. I didn’t believe you chose me.”

Vanessa buried her head in her hands, only peering out between her fingers to briefly glance at the muscular young man sitting beside her. She couldn’t trust herself at the moment; her mind was still hazy with the lust of her dreams. Even with the briefest of glances, though, she couldn’t mistake the red and purple pattern of scratches and bruises that decorated his naked flesh.

“Did you mean all those things you said to me last night?” Gary said trying to catch her eye.

Panic shot through her body, her memory was muddled, and her brain was still struggling with the fact of what she had done without having to contemplate what she might have said.

“Ever since you broke up with Steve, I’ve been hoping something would happen,” Gary said.

Vanessa felt herself shudder at that name mentioned in this situation.

“Steve and I haven’t broken up. We’re on a break. I just needed a bit of space to find myself.”

“To find me.” Gary leaned in to kiss her; but, without thinking, she turned away from him.

An awkward silence filled the room. Vanessa had never been in this situation before. There had always been only one man for her; she hadn’t even been attracted to anyone else. But there was no denying that here she was sitting on her bed with a naked man she had had sex with at least twice the night before. She was hoping she wouldn’t remember a third time.

“Space to find myself,” Vanessa said firmly, much more firmly than she felt.

“You’re going to tell me that last night meant nothing, and you were just drunk, right?” His voice was careless, but there was an unmistakable frown creasing his smooth skin.

Vanessa had read about things like this in magazines, but it had always been some bastard of a man trying to get rid of the woman after using her for sex and only wanting a one night stand despite all the lies he’d told in the moment. She knew for a fact that Gary himself had done it many a time, and not in the most thoughtful way. It was different, though, dealing with one of your housemates. She wished there was some sort of genetic programming that meant you instinctively knew how to act in these circumstances so that you didn’t humiliate yourself or hurt anyone else’s feelings.

Gary was staring at her, his mouth set in a firm line, but his eyes looked full of pain.

She nodded meekly in reply to the unanswered question that hung in the air between them.

“Bet you didn’t even remember the things you said to me?” he said.

She turned her head away from him. “Maybe it would be best if you went back to your own room and got some clothes on.”

Her head dropped into her hands as the door slammed behind him. The walls were too thin in this house to do anything but slightly muffle the sound of him storming round his room uttering every swear word known to man—as well as a few extra that he seemed to have invented for her benefit.

* * *

Vanessa speaking to her good friend Penelope…

“In just ten days I’m going to be thirty. And what have I done with my life? Everyone always used to say how bright I was and what wonderful things I would do with my life, how I could be anything I wanted. When I got a scholarship to your school, my parents were so proud of me, now we hardly talk without ending up arguing about how disappointed they are with me. They didn’t understand why I dropped out of my PhD to work full time in your flower shop, and now I don’t understand either. I am a thirty year old woman; and, instead of being in the middle of a flourishing science career, I’m a florist living in a student house with lads who, in a couple of years, will be earning triple my wage.”

Penelope spoke slowly as if every word she uttered had been carefully chosen. “Where’s this coming from? You’ve always led me to believe that you were significantly happier being a florist than you would have been as a scientist. Your relaxed style of life, playing mother hen to all the new students and fucking Steven whenever you’re not on a break, of course, all seemed to suit you.”

“I am happy. But don’t you see? I should be doing so much more with my life. I had so much potential, and I’ve wasted it all. Look at you, living in this mansion that you bought on a whim and then look at me, all my possessions cramped in the same room I lived in when we were students together. I think I’ve been happy but only because I’ve been avoiding life. I had so much potential, but I’ve let myself drift along doing whatever seemed easier. The flower shop was nicer and more relaxing than battling with my physics PhD, and I never moved out because it was easy to stay in the same house with the students rather than struggling alone in the big wide world.”

Fresh tears were stinging her eyes. Yesterday, she wouldn’t have recognized these thoughts as belonging to her, but the words had tumbled out of her mouth like a torrent of water breaking free from a badly made dam.

“It has been too long since we have spoken like this, Ness. I never realized how unsatisfied you felt.”

“Neither did I.”

Penelope was silent for a moment before she turned to Vanessa with a tone of resolution in her voice. “To make up for all the time I have been away, I am going to dedicate the next ten days to sorting your life out. Your thirtieth birthday will be one of the happiest days of your life, not the beginning of a life crisis.”

Vanessa looked up at her friend for the first time since they had started this conversation. Penelope’s voice was so certain and commanding.

“You think you can sort out all the problems in my life in a few days?”

“Yes. Your timing couldn’t be better. I had planned a few weeks rest, and now you have provided me with the perfect project for my holiday.”

Vanessa had a feeling she should feel indignant, but Penelope’s total self assurance was irresistible. “So how are you going to sort me out then? What do I have to do?”

“All you have to do, Ness, is obey me. Do everything I tell you do.”

Vanessa smiled. “I’m having a life crisis because I have lost control of my life and the answer is to stop making decisions for myself and just obey you?”


Vanessa laughed at her friend’s seriousness. “So you’re going to tell me everything I need to do?”

“Yes. However, it will only work if you seriously commit to obeying me without question.”

“What, like one of your servants?”


Vanessa was still smiling; the whole situation seemed like one of the old Penelope’s jokes.

“You are still the same little girl I found lonely and lost in the playground. I looked after you then, and I will look after you now.”

Vanessa stared into her friend’s eyes searching to see if anything else was lurking there; Penelope returned the stare in a way that Vanessa felt was more challenging than comforting. Vanessa looked away first.

“Do you agree to my terms?”

“What terms? It sounds like you’re going to draw up a business agreement between us.”

Penelope laughed. “I think we’ve known each other long enough to trust each other, but there is no harm in having a little written reminder for you.”

Vanessa started to smile, but Penelope’s face immediately became devoid of expression. “There is pen and paper in the bureau.”

Vanessa paused unsure for a moment what she was supposed to do before quietly obeying. She watched silently as Penelope quickly covered the blank sheet with her neat handwriting.

“If you are happy with the arrangement, sign and date at the bottom,” Penelope said handing the paper and pen back to Vanessa.

Vanessa slowly read through the words, they seemed to be part of one of her dreams.

From the 1st of August until my thirtieth birthday on the 10th of August, I will obey every command, order, and whim of Ms. Penelope Jayne Hamilton. I will never ignore or disobey an order. I will never question Ms. Hamilton about anything she commands me to do. I understand that if I break this agreement, the arrangement between Ms. Hamilton and I will immediately be terminated. In exchange for my complete obedience, Ms. Hamilton guarantees that I will be smiling, not crying, on my thirtieth birthday

“What is the difference between a command, an order, and a whim? And what if I don’t understand what you’ve told me to do, can I ask a question then?”

Penelope responded to Vanessa’s laughter with a small smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you understand everything you need to.”

“It says here you’ll guarantee I’ll be smiling, not crying, on my birthday, what happens if your amazing organizational skills don’t work and I am crying, do I get some sort of refund?”

“I didn’t imagine not being able to satisfy you, Ness, but if you need some sort of reassurance, I promise you that if I don’t fulfill my side of the agreement when you have fulfilled yours, then I will let you have power over me for ten days.”

Vanessa couldn’t prevent herself giggling at how serious her petite friend looked, and the idea that she could have control of Pen for a fortnight seemed so much more ridiculous than Pen making all her decisions that Vanessa happily signed the piece of paper without another word.

“Your methods are already working; you’ve made me smile even though it still feels like my life is a total mess.”

She tried to hand the piece of paper, now with her signature on it, back to Penelope, but Penelope shook her head.

“You keep it. It is to remind you what you have agreed to, not me.”

Vanessa read through it again before carefully folding it up and placing it in the back pocket of her jeans.

“So what do we do now?”

“A maid will show you to your room where you can take a shower and await my orders.”

“My room?”

“You will be staying here until your birthday.”

“Okay, but I’ll need to get some things from home. I’ve got no clothes or toiletries or anything.”

“Vanessa, I’ve said I’ll look after you. I have no intention of breaking our agreement, do you?”

“No, I don’t.” Vanessa’s gaze dropped to the floor; she felt like the servant outside who had been immediately humbled by the sternness of Penelope’s tone.

There was no further conversation between the two women. Penelope opened the door to the lounge and a young maid immediately appeared and curtsied low to her mistress. Vanessa didn’t see or hear Penelope give the maid any order, but she found herself following the maid through the labyrinth that was Penelope’s house and being left alone in a large bedroom. It had an en suite bathroom with a walk in shower. Vanessa looked at it for a long time, thinking how wonderful it would feel to have her body refreshed by cold water. She could almost feel it running down her body, splashing against her nipples and streaming between her legs. She walked out of the bathroom, determined not to give into temptation. She sat cross legged on the large bed that dominated the room and waited for her friend. She didn’t know when Penelope was going to call her but she would be ready for her, not be caught out in the middle of a shower.

There was no clock in the room; Vanessa could only see the hours passing through the window as the sun made its journey through the clear sky. A few times she opened the door and looked into the corridor, but the whole house seemed completely still, so she continued to obey Penelope and waited in the room until the heat, boredom, and the remains of her hangover pulled her into a fitful sleep

Vanessa was awakened by a sharp ringing noise. She turned over, trying to bury her head in the soft pillow to muffle out all sound. But the noise was relentless, digging its way into the heart of her dreams. She opened her eyes and looked sleepily around her. The room was draped in darkness and it took her a moment to discern that the sound trilling through her ears was caused by a phone placed in the centre of the bedside cabinet. She stared at it for several moments, willing it to be silent. She didn’t want to wake up, she wanted to remain asleep, she’d been dreaming about Penelope’s butler, he’d been telling her in that superior voice that she was a dirty girl who needed to be punished; but, instead of punishing her, he’d left her to answer a bell that wouldn’t stop ringing. She wanted to disappear back into her dreams and find him again, discover exactly what he was going to do to her. Instead, she reached a tired arm out and picked up the receiver.


“Vanessa, come to my dressing room immediately.” And then the only sound was the buzzing of the disconnected tone.

She lay there uncertain whether the incident with the butler or the phone call had been the dream. But even while she was dismissing everything from having sex with Gary, to the agreement with Penelope, and this latest phone call as figments of her runaway imagination, her body began to crawl out of the bed.

Her clothes felt heavy on her body and too hot even for the middle of the night. Mentally, she went to the bathroom, peeled her clothes off, and luxuriated in the feeling of the cooling water of the shower against her skin. Physically, she stumbled out of her room and into the corridor.

The corridors were unlit and, even though her eyes were beginning to discover their night vision, she had to grope along the walls to find her way. Not that she knew where her way was, there had not been any time to ask Penelope exactly where her dressing room was before the phone had been hung up.

The corridors seemed long and didn’t seem to lead anywhere. Vanessa felt as though she was walking in circles, or big rectangles to be more precise. If she had known how she would have returned to her bedroom and succumbed to the sleep her body was begging for, but as that had ceased to become an option, she wandered through the house hoping that she would find Penelope before she allowed her body to slump into the thick carpet and steal as much sleep from the morning as she could.

She turned yet another corner, her hands following the hard line of the wall, when her fingers touched something soft and smooth, which was unmistakably human skin. She screamed out and jumped backwards. Her heart was beating fast, but she was frozen to the spot. She couldn’t run, she couldn’t speak; all she could do was stand there and feel completely terrified.

Then a hand gripped her wrist. She opened her mouth to scream again, but no sound came out. She silently begged for mercy, prayed this was all part of another one of her strange dreams. The hand was moving up her arm. She was vaguely aware that the fingers felt slender, like a woman’s, but it was all she could do to force herself to keep breathing. The grip loosened as the fingers spread out as if to more easily explore her flesh, and Vanessa was surprised at how calmly she reacted beneath her panic. She sharply pulled away, turned backwards, and stretched her legs out to run as fast as she could for as long as she could.

Then a light flashed on above her, and Vanessa’s eyes blinked with the dazzling effect. When she had recovered, she saw that Penelope was standing in front of her with her arms crossed.

“You obviously do not know the meaning of immediately.”

Vanessa was so relieved to see her friend that she completely ignored the anger in the small woman’s voice and stumbled forward to hug her. Penelope brushed her away as if she was an annoying insect.

“Where do you think you were running to? Don’t tell me you’re scared already.”

“There’s, there’s, there’s someone,” Vanessa tried to force the words out, but she was barely capable of speech.

“Follow me,” Penelope said and began to walk back down the corridor in the direction that Vanessa had been fleeing from.

Vanessa quickly turned and grabbed Penelope’s arm. “No, there’s someone there.”

“I know, I can see them perfectly well,” Penelope said and shook free of Vanessa.

Vanessa followed Penelope’s gaze, but her heart was still beating fast. She looked at the wall and saw an incredibly white hand topped with long red finger nails. Her eyes travelled up the equally white arm, past an elegant long neck, over scarlet painted lips until she found a pair of green eyes staring at her. There was something more than the fact of their color that made Vanessa feel like a hungry cat was appraising whether she was worth eating or not. There were not many women she had to look up to, but this woman was at least two inches taller than she was. Vanessa felt intimidated and entirely mesmerized as if she was in the presence of an entirely new species of being.

“Don’t be scared, little thing,” the woman said reaching out her hand and slowly tracing the line of Vanessa’s cheek with one of her nails. “I am mostly harmless.”

“Stop staring, Vanessa, and follow me,” Penelope commanded and began walking at a fast pace down the corridor.

Vanessa trotted after her, but she could not focus entirely on her friend; her gaze strayed back to the green eyes. With a wider perspective, she now saw a man standing lazily next to the porcelain skinned woman, both were looking at her and their expressions showed they were clearly amused by her; however it was not their faces that remained in Vanessa’s mind long after Penelope had marched her around yet another corner and into the dressing room, it was the fact that the woman’s top had been ripped to reveal her right breast and the man’s tanned hand had been casually caressing the exposed strawberry nipple.


What wonderful accolade!

October 12, 2010

I was recently browsing some interesting sites when I cam across this post in fet life. I am so flattered to be associated with the likes of Stephen Elliott, Pauline Reague and Rachel Kramer Bussel.

What effect has Erotic Literature had on you?

For me, as a teenager it was through reading erotic literature that I realised I was submissive. It was through this form of literature that I explored and understood this scene and came to understand myself. Learning what it is that stimulates me and giving me the boldness to explore my own sexuality.

I wonder how it was for you. And what impact erotic and more specifically BDSM literature has had on your own lives and development?. Before the rise of the internet it was the only form of initial exploration that existed for me. I ask this as a thank you to the writers out there, specifically to Stephen Elliott, Clarice Clique, Pauline Reague and Rachel Kramer Bussel.

I would esp like to thank Stephen Elliott whose honesty and vulnerability revealed in his memoirs have given me the strength to make my fantasy a reality. Also to my latest find, Clarice Clique whose work i find extremely stimulating and in the way that it touches me so personally. It is her novel, Hot Summer Days that is by far my favourite – if you have not tried it I highly recommend it. What’s more like the others mentioned here it is so beautifully written.


I don’t have a story, but erotic lit. Is integral in my life. It’s inspiring, arousing and enjoyable.

I enjoy reading erotic writings occasionally … it can be extremely arousing and cathartic.

I like erotic literature. I can’t say whether I like it more or just as much as movies or animation though. I remember becoming aroused when I was young from naughty scenes in various books. Now that I’m older I really like finding series that blend some erotica with a good storyline that’s separate from the erotica like the Kushiel series and some of Laurell K Hamilton’s books.

Like the OP, my early exposure to very kinky erotic literature(“Rubber Clinic”, “Rubber Enema Nurses”) fueled, fed and nurtured my submissive and objectification fantasies that are now being realized.We both enjoy some current erotic fiction that feeds into our mutual kinks and desires around total enclosure, slavery and objectification.I have periodically(more often than not) written of our interactions for her to have as a breathing document of our journey together.

I read… a lot. Not all of the wank material I find is what I would call “literature,” however. The line between literature and smut seems to be widening, but every so often there is a gem of inspiration where I least expect it. I think that my love of reading is a significant part of why my website is so wordy. When so many others throw up about 20 keywords and run, I seem to be writing a mini novel for every video. I think that is a good example of marketing to myself. I secretly hope it will encourage more women to check it out.


When in college I read Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex. Later, Nancy Friday’s My Secret Garden. But although I found these books insightful, they were not very erotically stimulating. A few years back I found The Best American Erotica collections and enjoy them greatly.

It started when I found my father’s copy of Story of O. I read that when I was 13 through 15, it was my first real literature of any form. I identified with O and really loved all the careful escalation and the graven seriousness of it. I remember reading Penthouse forum letters. The ultimate through is I got some friends grandfather’s porno collection, and in there was some mid 70s Club magazines, and they had these extreme fantasies that were way beyond any young interests of mine, but it fascinated me because it was so far out there. Later when I read Venus in Furs I got very depressed, hoping that as a submissive I wasn’t being such a monster. Severin is a total manipulating control freak, though some of the prose about classical dominant women was amazing. Later I found a copy of Coming to Power in my University’s rare books library, and that did it. Once I read Pat Califia it was like my life had changed. The only place that would even order these books for me was the gay bookstore.