Email: rachelkramerbussel at gmail.com



 

Lusty Lady

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Saturday, May 04, 2013

Reviewers wanted for BDSM erotica anthology Anything for You: Erotica for Kinky Couples

I'm looking for 9 more reviewers for the print or Kindle editions of Anything for You: Erotica for Kinky Couples. Any takers/ Email me at rachelkb at gmail.com with "Anything" in the subject line and your name and mailing address (U.S. only) or email address to send the Kindle version to (note: for some reason, Amazon won't let me gift to @kindle.com addresses). I just ask that you post your review within 6 weeks of getting the book. First 9 people get copies! Thank you.



Introduction: As Kinky as They Want to Be

Like Riding a Bicycle Lisabet Sarai
Borrower Beware Heidi Champa
Anything She Wanted Neil Gavriel
Tails Deborah Castellano
Teppanyaki Janine Ashbless
Greasing the Wheels Madlyn March
Interview Talon Rihai and Salome Wilde
I Tend to Her Justine Elyot
Apple Blossoms Emerald
Big Night D. L. King
The Guest Star Sinclair Sexsmith
Exposure Elizabeth Coldwell
New Games on a Saturday Night Teresa Noelle Roberts
Notes from Her Master Kathleen Tudor
Lap It Up Kay Jaybee
What If Angela R. Sargenti
Petting Zoo Rachel Kramer Bussel
Normal Charlotte Stein
Everything She’d Always Wanted Ariel Graham

Introduction: As Kinky as They Want to Be

“My wife is on her knees.” That is how the first story in this book, “Like Riding a Bicycle,” by Lisabet Sarai, starts off, and in some ways, it’s why I don’t think I even need to introduce these stories, although I am about to. What I like most about this book is that its authors, in each of these nineteen titillating stories, assume that the reader is already aware of the world of BDSM. That’s not to say that if you’re a curious newcomer to the world of bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism you shouldn’t keep turning the pages, but just to point out that there is an ease with which these couples embrace their love of kink, in its varied forms, even when they are uneasy about the particular acts they are about to engage in. That push/pull, love/hate relationship with what turns us on is part of the beauty of BDSM and is a recurring theme here. In the course of these erotic vignettes, you will indeed learn about why, say, someone would want to be “forced” onto her knees, or bent over a bed or used as a plaything.

In these stories, you will find pain, and pleasure. You will find service and devotion. You will find Masters and Mistresses and curious onlookers⎯and so much more. You will find a dinner party where food is used for foreplay, and learn what CNFM stands for (hint: Clothed Female, Naked Male). But more than any particular scene or setup you’ll read about⎯and they are quite dazzling in their ingenuity⎯what stays with me the most from these stories is the longevity of the couples, the way they can read each others’ moans and sighs and screams so well, discerning a lover’s desires based on years of practice.

One of my biggest pet peeves about BDSM erotica is when a story leaps too quickly into the “action” and doesn’t give enough insight into who the characters are, what makes them tick, what makes them want to be bound, gagged, stripped naked, exposed, ordered around⎯or be the one doing those things. In every one of these imaginative, racy stories, you will find out why each part of the couple is there, what they get out of their relationship, what pushes their buttons, what animates their kink. You’ll find anal penetration, asparagus sex, an interview with a Mistress and her most eager slave, role-playing, spanking, bondage, exhibitionism and much more. Fantasies are fulfilled, sometimes on command, sometimes in ways their creators never could have foreseen. Most of all, though, what comes through is the passion, caring, and commitment these couples have for one another, the love behind (and alongside) the lust, which is what enables them to do all the wild, wanton things they do.

In the closing story, “Everything She’d Always Wanted,” by Ariel Graham, you will see the word fear over and over; the protagonist, Gwen, also experiences her share of panic. Her journey deep into the world of a Dominant/submissive relationship is captured in expert prose. Graham writes, “She’d adapted quickly, something in her recognizing what she’d been searching for.” When I wrote earlier that there’s a comfort with the topic of BDSM, what I meant is precisely what is shown so dramatically and beautifully in that story. What happens in it is Gwen’s idea, as the title suggests, but she is still nervous, wary, uncertain if her biggest fantasy is actually one she is capable of going through with. It’s this very fear that drives her, that arouses her, that pushes her to keep going. The only thing you have to listen to is David, Gwen thinks to herself at one point. She has to take a leap of faith to get from here to there, and when she does, a whole new sexual world opens up for her.

The same could be said of the other characters, men and women, tops and bottoms, you’ll read about in these pages. In a sense they all have to take a leap of faith and trust their partners to guide them, whether it’s Dan in D. L. King’s “Big Night,” who gets a very special fortieth birthday party, or the narrator of Sinclair Sexsmith’s, “The Guest Star,” who watches as her girlfriend takes a new lover, or Jack in “New Games on a Saturday Night” by Teresa Noelle Roberts, who is used to girls who know their way around the business end of a paddle, but has what he thinks he knows turned on its head by a novice, Serena. For him, “the turn-on wasn’t so much giving the pain as being trusted to give just the right amount of pain.”

I hope these stories will move you as deeply as they’ve moved me. They are rich, varied and incredibly naughty. Many of them have made me wish I could slip inside the body and mind of a given character and act out his or her devilishly dirty delights. All of them have shown me just how powerful a force kink can be, how it can bring couples closer together and show them the true depths of trust and desire they can plumb.

Rachel Kramer Bussel
New York City

And a little teaser from my story "Petting Zoo" (the book has a mix of male and female tops and bottoms).

Petting Zoo
Rachel Kramer Bussel

When you truly love someone, you’ll do anything for them⎯and vice versa. That goes a long way toward explaining what I was doing dressed in five-inch shiny leather boots, my voluptuous body poured into a corset, wearing a long black wig and holding a chain, which was attached to a collar, which was attached to my husband, Mason. The collar was all he had on, by my command. But my command was, ultimately, a response to his request, one of many such pleas, during our increasingly heated role-playing sessions. There he was, his thirty-two-year-old, hairy, oversized body on full display not just to me but also to a whole roomful of kinky people, mostly women. I smiled as I stared down at my pet for the night. I’d gotten used to the role I now proudly played, but getting there took some time, and a whole lot of love.

We’d been married for just over a year before somehow, my buff, seemingly butch hubby, who loved to race his motorcycle when we ventured out of the city, who was proud of his home-cooked steaks, who grew a beard and disdained the “pretty boys” who got proper haircuts rather than having their wives trim their tresses, revealed to me one day that what he wanted most was to worship at my feet; to be my servant, my slave, my pet. Inside his macho exterior lurked the heart of a pure submissive. He’d never done it, but he’d apparently spent the last six months thinking about submitting, thinking about giving it up to me, his wife who usually could be found on all fours taking his gigantic cock in my pussy and once in a while in my ass. Instead of my bending over, he wanted me to tower over him. Okay, there was a little more that he wanted⎯like the chance to lick anonymous women’s pussies, to be used like a toy, but all that only worked if I was the one “making” him do it.

It was a revelation, the first time he said it. My mind whirred with this new side of him, more surprised that he’d kept the fantasy from me than that he possessed it in the first place. It’s not like we were shy and retiring, or never talked about sex; we made sure to keep our sex life as lively as it had started out, after our whirlwind, very hot romance, which included joining the mile-high club, plenty of phone sex and all sorts of sharing of dirty talk. I’d thought that in the year and a half we’d been together we’d unearthed each other’s every secret; not that I was bored or anything, but I felt like we’d grown into ourselves, our marriage, and were at a point where we could finish each other’s sentences. But apparently, there were things I still had to learn. I was in the middle of spinning a tale of me punishing an imaginary wisp of a girl I’d bring home, telling her how she’d sucked his cock the wrong way, when something shifted.

“You’re gonna punish her really hard, right? Spank her ass?” His voice betrayed his excitement. The truth is, we weren’t really entertaining the idea of a threesome, but it was the fantasy, the image, the idea that we were both responding to. I wasn’t opposed to adding another woman⎯or man⎯into the mix someday, but not just yet. First I wanted to see how far we could take our own filthy fantasies. “Yeah, you want to see that, right?” As I was talking, he turned over, and there was his ass, right before me. I cupped his cheeks and before I knew it I was giving Mason a demonstration of just what I would do to our mystery girl.

“You want me to tie you up and have women come over and sit on your face, is that what you’re telling me?” I asked him one night as I myself straddled his pretty face, giving him his fill of his favorite meal. By then, I’d gotten used to our favorite fantasy scenario, had started to think of myself the way Mason thought of me, at home and when I was outside of it. I’d never been with anyone, man or woman, who was so eager for oral⎯even me, and I can’t get enough cock down my throat, when I’m with the right person. His enthusiasm in turn engendered my own, but what I loved most was feeling him tremble when I talked dirty to him, when I spun tales of all the wicked things I was discovering I’d like to do to him.

I’m not naturally the dominant type; I haven’t always taken the pride I do now in seeing a man cowering before me, but Mason has turned me into the kind of woman who loves a cruel smile, a harsh look, who loves to fling her boot out and watch him scurry to pull it off. That attitude has carried over into my professional life, where I’ve risen up the ranks of the cosmetics company I started at as a secretary; now I’m a vice president.

I thought for a moment about my climb up the corporate ladder as I watched Mason crawl on the ground, surrounded by beautiful women. This was his dream come true, and watching his ass⎯his middle-aged, hairy ass; the one I thought of as mine to enjoy⎯made me smile. In a way, I was doing this for him, but in so many other ways, I was doing it for me. I stood taller when he got on his knees. I got wet when he groveled, and I got a thrill out of seeing the other women coo over him. He truly was like a pet, or a toy, and thinking of him that way only made me love him more. I also knew he’d never be the type to cheat; why would he, when I allow him to lick all the pussies he wants? Well, that’s not entirely true.

When he crawled over to me and I leaned down so he could kiss his way up from my cleavage to my neck, and then he whispered in my ear, “Mistress?” I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

“Yes, pet?”

“There is a woman who I’d like to play with. She’s over there and she has a beautiful flogger and…”

“And what?” I prompted, knowing it would be a struggle for him to praise her without somehow denigrating me. Watching his mouth open and close amused me⎯and aroused me. I was pleased to find that I wasn’t just doing this for him, because that one-sided type of sacrifice can ruin any relationship, even a kinky one.

“And…she’s looking for someone to torture.”

“And you think you’d be just the right someone?” I asked him.

“Because I…” he paused. “Because I want to try something new. You know I’m devoted to you, Mistress, one hundred percent. I want everyone to watch and see how much I can take, and be jealous of you that you get to take home such an obedient boy.” I smiled. It was a good answer, a way of spinning his own urgent desire into something that would give me some street cred, too. I wanted Mason to be happy, because without that, what was the point of our marriage? And by now I was curious to see what exactly would happen when I let him roam and play.

“Okay, you have my permission, but you better be done in half an hour, or I’m going to drag you out of here by your hair and make you crawl around outside on the street wearing only what you’re wearing now.” Of course I’d never do such a thing, but it was plausible enough that he didn’t need to know my true intentions. I could tell that my “threats” were part of what got him excited, and doing that for him in turn made me feel like a good wife, not in a traditional way, but in my way. Yes, call me crazy, but I saw my act of issuing bold threats of bodily harm almost, well, romantic.

Mason was overjoyed, and if he’d had a tail, it would’ve been wagging. Instead, his cock bobbed up and down. “But you know that your cock belongs to me, right? We don’t have to get you a cage for it, do we?” I reached down and stroked his balding head, my gentle hand playing good cop to my words’ bad cop.

“Of course not. I’d never let another woman touch me there.” Mason sounded almost offended that I’d even mention it.

“Okay then, you head on over, I’ll be by to watch soon. Be good for her; I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

Read the rest of the story in Anything for You: Erotica for Kinky Couples!

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