He'd never met a woman quite like Rachel...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Independent Erotica Retailers

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Banned words, titles, art and content

If you're looking for today's new hot and sexy book excerpt... you'll find that just below this notice.

Sadly, the much talked about topic of censorship in the erotica market is NOT going away. In addition to banned titles, artwork and content deemed offensive by larger retailers, one ebook retailer is now scanning books for certain words, and pulling books from their website without regard to the context in which these words are used. This is a troubling new evil in the ebook retail market, especially since it seemed targeted specifically at erotica, while allowing the same content and words in other literary genres. Like so many of these measures now used in the review of books, little is known about the specific criteria use to ban an erotica title.

I could rant on this for days. But today, I'm simply calling attention to the problem once again, because it's one that is not going away. Readers need to be aware that the content and story lines they love is still available, though it may NOT be from the larger ebook retailers you are accustomed to buying from.

I encourage readers of non-consensual erotica to buy directly from small publishers and retailers who do not censor words, titles, art and content in erotic books, as so many of the larger retail sites now do. If this is the erotica you enjoy, support the authors and publishers.  

PLUS: You're likely to find on these sites, many books that are now banned on the bigger sites. This is censorship by corporate decree. It is frustrating and infuriating but it's an evil that's unlikely to change in the near future. 

 

Paddle, Cane and a Scalded Ass

Though there are still a couple feet of snow on the ground, it looks like Spring is finally on its way! This is something to celebrate, here in the frozen north.

With spring this year comes a new Lizbeth Dusseau title:
Spontaneous Combustion
Look for it mid-April
 
For now, a hot, sexy and sensuous punishment scene between a Master and his new sub. 

The novel, Against Her Will: The Abduction of Kat Bloom,  has always been one of my favorite books... Meredith and Alain one of my favorite D/s couples. Because certain words are now banned on some of the large retail ebook sites, you may need to search for this novel with it's "vanilla" name: The Seduction of Kat Bloom

Excerpt: Paddle, Cane and a Scalded Ass
From Against Her Will: The Abduction of Kat Bloom
by Lizbeth Dusseau (c) Copyright 2006, all rights reserved.

What led to the first skirmish between these two unlikely lovers was probably apropos; their relationship began at the office, and it was one of Meredith Shaw’s nervous faux pas that ignited the smoldering fires in them both. Alain was working late on a new case that had landed on his desk that day, when the new file clerk from records appeared at his door and abruptly stopped on seeing him pouring over the evidence file on his desk. The lovely brunette Meredith Shaw honestly didn’t know he’d be there. In fact, she had intended to slip the missing files on his desk as if they’d been delivered by a thief giving back what he’d just snatched. Now with him still hard at work, she couldn’t be that shrewd.

    She held her breath waiting for Alain to raise his head, then noted the look of surprise when he finally did.

    “Miss Shaw?”

    “Sir?”

    “Is there a reason why you’re standing at my door?”

    “Yes, sir. I-I heard you were looking for these …um… files.” She walked forward and placed them on his desk, although before she could draw back her hand he had one wrist clutched inside his steely palm. They hadn’t seen each other since the signing of the contract was completed in the presence of Mistress Ana and Janis Duncan at the X-Club two nights prior. It had been his plan to initiate their relationship at her apartment that night. But now she was so far inside his space it was impossible to stop what thundered through his anxious body.

    He swiveled in his desk chair, while guiding the lovely young woman so she was directly between his open thighs, his hand still tightly grasping her wrist.

    “I thought that your working in Records would place less stress on you.”

    She smiled weakly, chagrined. “I’m so nervous.”

    “I can see.”

    “I’m sorry to let you down. I really don’t know what happened to those files on the gallery theft, but it won’t happen again.” She looked down at the Captain – her master – gulping back her threatening tears, while feeling her entire body shiver as he conveyed the authority, the calm, the good judgment she so longed to experience from a man.

    “No, it won’t happen again, or I’ll have no choice but to let you go.”

    “Please, sir, I can’t lose this job!”

    “Then you know what you have to do.” He waited for her response and when there was none, he added, “Maybe now’s the time to properly deal with your recent mistakes. Perhaps, getting punished will work where lectures failed?”

    She blinked and bit her lower lip, every nerve in her was on fire, as Alain let go of her hand, rose from his chair and directed his quivering submissive to the far side of his desk. He closed and locked his office door, pulled the blinds and moved to a nearby cabinet from which he withdrew a three inch spanking paddle and a bamboo cane.

    “The paddle’s to warm your ass. The cane’s to up the pain. Bend over, Miss Shaw.”

    As if she’d been shocked, the electricity in the air attacked her body. She was so frightened that she could barely move, but she did manage to bend over the desk and rest her torso on her arms. From the corner of her eye, she watched her master lay the tools down beside her, then remove his coat and roll the sleeves of his starched white shirt to the elbow. Why this image had such a daunting effect on a submissive, she couldn’t explain, but they both understood the power of an act that was almost a cliché in the Dominant/submissive mindset.

    “The paddle’s to warm your ass. The cane’s to up the pain.”

    The words moved through her mind another trigger for her astonishing arousal. Never. Never had it been like this before. Her shudder deepened as she watched him pick up the leather paddle, and then again as he moved around behind her and carefully lifted her skirt. As he reached for the band of her nylon panties, she emitted a small groan. Every excruciating second ticked by in slow motion, drawn to a finely turned edge before the next began. So nervous, so aroused, she was about to spontaneously come. However, her feelings promptly changed. After he drew the nylon over her bottom and down to the top of her thighs, he positioned himself for the best angle, and SMACK!

    She lunged forward, gasping from the sudden and brutal sting.

    Again and again, the surface of her bare ass took the repeated blows from the not-so-mild leather. This was hardly warming up; she was hot from the start, punished, rebuked and reprimanded for a string of mistakes, missteps and thoughtless blunders she’d committed over the last year, as if the collective disapproval of Captain Danvers and his staff was finally being realized in this one punitive expression.

    She hung on, cringing desperately, vowing that she wouldn’t cry out no matter what. A prudent decision on her part – in the past Alain was known to gag a distraught sub who showed no inclination to contain her emotions.

    When he finally paused, it was long enough for Meredith to feel a sudden, surging heat spread throughout her lower regions. Then when he started in again, he aimed for her upper thighs and moved even lower, where the skin could barely take the punishing blows. He retreated briefly to her reddened ass end, then returned to her thighs, and went back and forth until a string of muffled moans escaped her lips and her tortured behind made some efforts to escape further beating.

    She slumped miserably against the desk when he finally stopped.

    “Pull yourself back upright, young lady!” he crisply ordered.

    She struggled with the command, but was then rewarded for her efforts with the palm of his large hand covering one ass cheek. He gently squeezed. It was all she could do not to wriggle against the sweetness of that tender caress. He held her at the ass and the shoulder as if he were laying claim to her body and soul, a declaration more lucid than any contract she would ever sign.

    “If ever there was a woman who needed a firm hand to guide them, it is you, Meredith.”

    Oh, dear! She never remembered him calling her anything but Miss Shaw.

    “And you have much to atone for.”

    He backed away leaving the imprint of his virile energy crawling through her aroused body.

    “And not a sound,” he warned tersely, as he plucked the cane from his desk.

    She cringed but she didn’t utter a word, while pouring every ounce of determination into bearing the pain she knew would follow. Never had it been more clear to her that this strict discipline was exactly what her life had been missing, and that Alain Danvers was the perfect man to effectively deliver that discipline

Directly across her two smoldering ass cheeks, Alain laid the first angry cut of the bamboo cane. He felt every one ripple through his nerves as it laid a dark red welt through the deep pink blush of Meredith Shaw’s lovely ass. One…two…three…four…five…six…

    His cock was ravenous and his full power engaged for the final six cuts that made successive lines down her lower ass cheeks to the tender flesh of her upper thighs. As each one struck, he felt every nerve in Meredith’s body seize up …seven… eight…nine… and heard her strain valiantly to muffle her response to the fierce pain; it wasn’t easy… ten… eleven… twelve.

    Done at last, he laid the cane back on his desk next to the paddle, then moved in close behind her, reaching in-between her thighs with one hand and embracing her with his other arm.

    “Feet apart,” he ordered, to give himself greater access to the wet treasure of her sex. Wet, indeed! A deluge of fragrant juices escaped her vagina and covered his hand. Her body seized up as he toyed with the molten valley, as she moaned, reaching her orgasm almost from the very first touch. Two at first, then three fingers slipped into the clenching cavern while he listened for her responding gasp. Then he used his fingers like a cock, bringing her to one, then another, then another climax. Three times she shuddered against him, almost crying, and certainly too overcome to know exactly what was happening. As her plight deepened in intensity, he pulled in directly behind her ass, and setting his organ free, plunged into the steamy cunt, letting her spasming muscles work him to the finish.

    His erection surged on, pounding her forcefully, then at the moment he came, he clutched her punished cheeks in his hands and let go with groans that came from deep in his gut.

    The two remained fused together for sometime after the last of their spasms died away. His hard-on receded and they caught their breath. Then awakening from his sexual stupor, he kissed the back of her neck and her mass of unruly hair and behind her ear, where his tongue lovingly probed.

    He hadn’t felt like this in years. So alive. So powerful. So in charge. This woman now owned, surrendered, his to mold as he desired.

    When they finally broke apart, she, without being told, dropped to her knees between his legs and cleaned his organ with her mouth, laving it lovingly until he carefully pushed her back.

    “It’s good there are some things you don’t have to be told,” he said kindly.

    “I pleased you?” she gazed up in awe.

    “Enough for one night, yes.”

    By the time Meredith was on her feet, his cock was back inside his pants and he sat behind his desk looking as calm as he had when she first entered the office.

What intimacy the two shared became cloaked behind the veil of their chosen roles. He could only give her small pieces of himself, when in fact, he was having the overpowering urge to dive in totally. But, being a master of his emotions, he contained them well for the moment. Urges to entangle himself in her life needed to be purged of the aggressive force behind them. He could give nothing away too soon. Dominant men did not do that; they didn’t wear their feelings on their sleeves and they couldn’t display any weakness until their control had been firmly established. He knew all this as he tucked his feelings back inside his clothes as neatly as he’d earlier tucked away his cock.

    “Thank you, sir,” the quivering young woman managed.

    Alain couldn’t be sure, but she seemed more nervous than she was before. Normally punishment whacked the tension from a frightened submissive. But it was safe to assume that she was still in awe of what they were about: his obligation to punish her faults, her commitment to surrender, and his right to use her body for his personal pleasure. It was certainly a terrifying if not, arousing situation she’d openly agreed to. 

    “My duty and my pleasure,” he replied to her ‘thank you’, resuming his typically curt manner. “While this was not exactly what I had in mind for your initiation, I think it serves us both well. And it should remind you, that your job is all part of the package with me. I expect you’ll reform your ways in Records and do your work efficiently. I don’t think you’re a dumb woman.”

    “I’m not, sir,” she rushed in, as was typical.

    Meanwhile, he leaned back in his desk chair. “You went to college, hum?”

    “Yes, sir, four years.”

    “What did you study?”

    “Art, poetry and literature.”

    He looked a little stunned. “So why, in heavens name, are you working here?”

    “I needed the job, sir. I have to eat.”

    She was perfectly serious. He smiled, amused.

    “Have you ever thought that you might be wasting your talents working in a police station?”

    “Of course, except that I don’t know my talents. I love the arts, but I’m not very good at them.”

    “I see. Is that your assessment or your instructors’?”

    “I’m not really sure, sir.”

    “Well, it’s time you were sure about something, Miss Shaw. Paint me a picture, write me a poem, a story something…anything.”

    She gazed back puzzled. “You mean that?”

    “Yes. I mean that. There’s got to be more to Meredith Shaw than a beautiful body, a sweet smile, and incoherent conversation.”

    “Yes, sir. I’ll see what I can do.”

    “Don’t see about it, just do it.”

    “Yes, sir.” She nervously fumbled with her skirt, having just realized that it was all cockeyed. “Now may I go, sir?”

    All of a sudden she was anxious to leave. He was amused again. She wasn’t unlike most submissives when they’d had enough. And indeed, they’d both had enough for one night. “Yes, you may go.”

Hush! Words we can't utter anymore...

Another Friday has arrived... and it's time to post. There's been a lot on my mind this week, not just as an erotica author but as a publisher as well. 

This post combines my personal rant on banned erotic words with an introduction and excerpt from the most 'vanilla' novel in my catalogue of erotic titles. Oddly, the two subjects seem to fit, at least for the focus of this blog post. So here goes...

One of the benefits of being semi-retired is the opportunity to fill in my days with a whole mess of projects left undone during a period in my career when I was just too busy to do it all. Suddenly, this doesn't feel like retirement at all! Not when it's my goal to bring some of my older titles out of the dark ages and into the present, to replace out-dated covers with snazzy new ones, and breathe new life into some very good but forgotten stories. This is becoming a full time job! And maybe it's not all bad either. Keeps me busy and out of trouble.

I wrote the novel Hush! in the mid-1990s at the beginning of my writing career. I was penning spanking novels and stories, and then embarked on a series of general erotic romances (no kink involved...imagine that!) Oddly enough, you'll see in this teaser from the novel the same kind of dominant/submissive theme that has become the centerpiece of my erotica. I couldn't get away from it even then. No surprise that BDSM erotica became my favorite sub-genre in the wide world of erotic fantasy.

Getting on to my rant... one odd quirk in this novel: I deliberately avoided using some of the cruder terms for genitalia like cock, dick, cunt and pussy. It was a noble effort, and I managed to get through the story with lots of euphemisms for sexual body parts, sprinkled with a few penises and vaginas. Thankfully, I've never attempted such a project since. I honestly love writing my erotica with a full breadth of language choices at my command, and after twenty years, they are pretty much a common part of my vocabulary ... in the right company of course. 

In the years since Hush! was written, the world has seemed to catch up with words that have been so much a part of my erotic vocabulary. It's all about context, when the words are used and with whom... but cock and cunt and all the rest just aren't that taboo anymore. Maybe that's good and maybe not when it comes to public discourse. Not going to debate that. But remember, it's all about context, and within the erotica world a graphic and descriptive vocabulary is one of the tools that an author relies on to bring a story to life and make it feel real to the reader. A book title is one of the most important choices an author can make when it comes to marketing a book. The description of a story used for marketing purposes should accurately convey what the book is about so that the reading audience can find the books they want to read. But now those basic and very necessary writing and marketing tools are being jeopardized.

Suddenly, in the 21st century, a new wave of propriety is sweeping the erotica publishing world, through the efforts of large ebook sites that are running into "issues" that these "easy-to-publish-your-book" sites have created themselves in failing to provide adequate guidelines and screening for the titles that get uploaded to their sites. 

In a ruthless and arbitrary fashion words are being banned from titles and book descriptions, seriously compromising the efforts of many authors. In the last couple weeks, at the biggest of the ebook giants, there's been purge of titles with words like slavery and slave. Slave Ranch becomes The Ranch. Kingdom of Slaves becomes Domain. Slaves of the Circle T becomes Submission at the Circle T. You can imagine the creative and sometimes hilarious ways authors are attempting to get beyond this ridiculous word ban. You'd better not try using words like spanking, BDSM, femdom and lesbian in a book's title, they may get banned as well. (these are just a few of the words and terms being targeted). Since I founded the company, it has been the policy of Pink Flamingo to give an accurate and descriptive picture of the titles we published just so readers won't get a title they don't want to read. Now, book descriptions are being watered down to the point that the public can no longer be certain what they are getting in a title they choose. Which is the better option? Full disclosure or vague references to the book's story and content?

How long will it be before even the texts of novels will undergo the scrutiny of censors, too? Makes you wonder how far the censors will go fucking with English language. I don't have an answer to this latest blow to Free Speech. For now, I sit back, take a deep breath and shake my head, then go back to playing with my books, making them the best erotica I can make them, and hope that erotica readers will be patient until this latest flurry of silliness finally goes away...and some sanity returns to the wild world of erotica publishing.

In a related issue, self-published and indie authors are being targeted by some large retailers for the "sins" of a few. With no regard to content (vanilla to extreme), indie erotica is being stripped from the same sites that previously encouraged their efforts. If you'd like to offer your support to the independent publishing world, please check out the petition below:

Support Indie Authors


So, enough for now! On to the fun stuff...

About Hush!: Journalist Dana Padget, on assignment to photograph erotic art, is seduced by the art as well as the museum's mysterious curator, Lucian Broussard. As the sexual passion builds, Dana finds danger lurking beneath the surface of their affair—in the secrets of Lucien's perplexing house and in the ghost of his deceased wife, Ariel, who haunts its corridors by day and its bedrooms by night. A passionate and disturbing tale, this novel drips with suspense, and a romance that blooms with mystery.

Excerpt from Hush!

He spoke in hushed tones. She felt their knees graze against each other’s under the table. They’d been doing so all night. As he cradled her face in his hand, she watched him, mesmerized by the sight of his changeable eyes. She felt his other hand beneath the table move to her knees and gently part them. Not that he would actually reach up between them, he simply wanted them open.

“Why are you doing that?” she whispered, as his firm hand pushed her legs even wider.

“Hush,” he said sweetly, with a smile. “You’ve been too wary tonight, too pent-up. When you part your thighs, I can feel your inner energy soar. Just relax, you have nothing to worry about from me.” Saying that, he pulled his hand out from underneath the table and picked up his fork to eat the chocolate torte in front of him.

Dana gazed at him stupefied. He was right about her sexual energy, the unexpected demand reminded her that his over-powering effect on her was primarily sexual. He brought out longing, and steamed heat, and dormant desire, and something very raw. Even though her skirt was short, riding high almost to her crotch with her legs spread out, she held the pose, relishing the surge of sensation that moved from her to him.

“You have me baffled, Lucien,” she said, taking a bite of her own torte. “And feeling like a loose woman.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Lucien replied. “Since I met you at your door tonight, you in that lovely dress, I could think of nothing all through dinner but the picture of ou sitting with the skirt bunched at your thighs.”

She blushed, unable to hide her embarrassment.

“I wooed another woman just like you,” he said.

“You mean Ariel?” She thought again of the tales from the museum, and the phantom presence that haunted its corridors.

“Of course I mean Ariel.”

Lucien owned an old Mercedes with broad seats, and dark windows, and locks that snapped tight after he pushed Dana into the back seat of the vehicle. His body descending to hers. They didn’t undress with the seats so cold, the snow beginning to pile up around the car. But they were warm where it mattered, in the middle of their crotches. Without saying a word, without even thinking of protesting, Dana lay back against the leather seat, and opened her thighs again, just as they’d been in the restaurant.

She was ripe, her aromatic fragrance so strong she smelled it, too, when he pushed aside the nylon panties and pressed a finger inside the warm wetness. His hand turned firm again, changing like the countenance of his face changed so frequently. With fingers driving deeply inside, she moaned, tears coming to her eyes as she felt the almost painful thrust of his hand moving against her. In the dark she could hardly see his face, but a shard of light from an overhead beam penetrated through one window, revealing a determined look. She was scared but aroused by his remarkable expression. She invited him with her arms outstretched, and he withdrew the pounding fingers and opened his pants, the heavy hard thing inside unseen, pressed against her thighs. She could tell it was enormous, more enormous still when he penetrated her.

“My, my my god,” she gasped softly.

They moved, the rhythm easy, a sure steady lovemaking. His lips covered her face with dozens of kisses, while he murmured things she could never remember. Her mouth whimpered faint replies. Lucien finished inside her with his erection exploding so she could feel his wild jerking cum all through her body. And because she did not jerk herself, or gasp enough, his fingers returned to her steamy center once he’d withdrawn, and he stroked her tenderly there until as her arousal crescendoed and she climaxed, too.

There was wet cum from Lucien’s penis on her thigh, feeling cold after he moved off her body.

“My god, I did this right here!” she gasped. She looked aghast as her mind returned reality. 
“Did someone see?”

“You wonder that?” Lucien remarked. “And not why?”

“I know why. We were overcome by the moment.”

“Then that must happen to you often,” Lucien suggested, already knowing that it didn’t.

“It has never before,” she admitted. She pulled up to sitting, pushing her skirt down over her thighs as far as it would go. There was likely a wet spot on the back of the dress from their combined juices that flowed from her well-used hole. Her hose were soiled, her panties too, but she liked it that way, for the first time in a long time feeling something this deliciously naughty.

“You needed to be wooed, Dana,” Lucien said. “Now perhaps I’d better take you home.”

They drove to her townhouse in silence. She had nothing to say, and then a whole discourse suddenly appeared to her, but not making up her mind, she ended up saying nothing.

“I will see you tomorrow morning,” Lucien said, once he walked her to her front door.

“No. Not tomorrow,” Dana answered. “I have other appointments Monday.”

“Then Tuesday,” he said. “It wouldn’t be a good idea to wait any longer.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“And plan on spending the night Thursday. I think we’ll be ready to through the attic pieces then.”

There was no negotiating the deal, times, days or her rapt attention to his project. He was decisive and authoritative, just when she was thinking that she didn’t need that kind of man in her life. But then too, he wasn’t like her husband. His assumptive manner was only a small aspect of his personality. So vague and mysterious were the other elements of his character, and erotic – compellingly erotic. She wondered if she could ever know him well. He was on the verge of something all the time, but unlike her husband, who could be like that too, there was no agitation, just an abiding peacefulness about him, during which she was left to speculate what about what he would do to her next. 

 Copyright (c) 1995 by Lizbeth Dusseau, all rights reserved.

Just Doing his Job, from Bounty Hunter

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.