Becoming Visible

September 24, 2016

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 42 superhumanly heroic Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

This is technically a day late, so just go ahead and pretend that I posted it yesterday and that you just didn’t get around to reading it until now, okay?

I’m bi.

It feels a little bit weird typing that. Even though I’ve known that I was attracted to men as well as women for a long time, I’ve always felt like I couldn’t really claim that title because I’ve never acted on it. I don’t know why, either. I don’t know whether I’ve never found anyone I clicked with on that level, or whether I have but I subsumed any spark of attraction I felt under nerves about wanting to pick the right guy for my first guy, or whether I just couldn’t admit it in anything more than a whisper, even to myself. But I was never comfortable claiming that label as my own.

But I should be. Bisexuality is real whether or not I act on it, and no matter where I fall along its spectrum. I’ve written a lot of my stories from the perspective of a woman being hypnotized and dominated by a man, and I’ve been able to put myself in that woman’s shoes quite effectively and enjoyably. I’ve written gay smut–not much of it, because I think on some level I felt it would be too big of an admission if I wrote a lot of it, but I wrote it and it turned me on. I’ve spent time online watching gay porn and getting turned on by it. These are not deviations or accidents and they’re nothing to be ashamed of.

I’m going to say it again so that it sinks in for everyone reading this and particularly someone writing this: This is nothing to be ashamed of. This is something to accept about myself, and maybe explore a little although I don’t think that means I’m looking for partners right now just in case anyone thought this was a thinly-veiled personal ad. Instead, it’s me making a decision to be open about a part of myself I haven’t been comfortable sharing here because even on a blog that’s all about my sexuality, I still feel like it’s not something I’m supposed to admit to. I feel nervous that people won’t like me if I admit to who I am, and it’s time I gor right the hell over that because anyone who would think less of me for this isn’t worth my time.

And yeah, maybe because it’ll help the next person make this admission a little easier, explore a little more comfortably, accept themselves a little bit quicker. But I’m not going to break my arm patting myself on the back here.

This is Bi Visibility Day, and it’s time to stop hiding this part of myself. So hi, bi.

Bye!

Early Bird Sneak Peek: “Eyes Wide Open”!

September 22, 2016

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story when Simon updates in two weeks’ time–”When I Come Around” and “Radio Daze”, teased as Early Bird stories, have already been submitted to the EMCSA. (And Literotica will get “Radio Daze” this weekend on my usual schedule.) But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “Eyes Wide Open”! (MC FF)

Lia just bet Darcy full access to Darcy’s wardrobe for the rest of college that Darcy can’t hypnotize her and turn her into a sex slave. Of course, Darcy is making the full consequences of the bet to Lia completely clear before she begins–it would be unethical to trick someone into becoming your sex slave after all. So she’s giving her a detailed rundown of everything that entails…

Lia sighed. Darcy was really carrying the whole act through, wasn’t she? “Bullshit,” she countered. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. In a few minutes, you’re going to tell me to look into your eyes, and I’ll just close them.” She locked stares with Darcy, daring the other girl to try to make her look anywhere she didn’t want to look. Darcy just gave her a big, soulful look back, almost like she pitied Lia for being put into such an impossible position.

“No,” Darcy said, sounding almost resigned to the outcome, “that comes later. At first, you’re going to simply find yourself fascinated by the tiny details of my eyes. You’ll look at the little flecks of gold and green, in among the hazel, and you’ll start trying to spot each and every one. You won’t even dare to blink, because if you blink you might lose track and have to start over. But that kind of focus is tiring, Lia. It takes energy. You’re going to focus so intently that your eyelids will get heavy from the strain. Once you start to notice how heavy they’re becoming, you won’t be able to think about anything else anymore except how good it would feel to let them slip shut and relax.”

Hope you enjoy it!

Riding the Switchy Rollercoaster

September 18, 2016

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 41 sincerely superlative Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m playing with some new people online. It’s been a very enjoyable experience (I hope for them as well as for me), and I’ve been exploring my dominant side a bit. (I appear to write maledom stories well enough that I’ve talked to some women who assume I’m a dominant male, despite the fact that virtually all of my stories, red, yellow or green, are written from the submissive’s POV.) But that doesn’t mean I’m being exclusively dominant, either.

Some of the people I play with have been switchy like me (they like to both top and bottom), and it’s very interesting to me to notice the way that dynamic plays out. Because when two people who are switchy play together, there’s a lot of interpretation of mood and space that happens on an almost subconscious level. You start reading the subtext of their text, picking up on cues both subtle and brick-to-the-head obvious that they’re interested in playing a particular role at that time…and since you enjoy both, it becomes very easy to go with the flow and be whatever they need you to be.

The main thing I’ve noticed about myself is that despite being more of a switch than I would have imagined a year ago, I still very much default to the submissive role. If my partner says anything that even hints at an expectation of my submission, I have a very difficult time avoiding simply falling into that space and going along with their control. It’s not impossible for me to resist–the other day one of my play partners accidentally used a trigger on me while they were in deep trance, and I was able to recognize that it was accidental and hold myself in domspace so that we didn’t both wind up feeling subby–but I feel very happy and fulfilled by submission.

(In case anyone’s wondering what Goddess thinks of all this, She’s very happy with it. I’m required to ask permission before I play with a new person, because I belong to Her, but She is glad to see me enjoying myself.)

Of course, this is all about the journey more than the destination. I enjoy the intimacy of play with another person, the joy of finding the things that make them happy and confessing to them the things that I want for myself. But I do find out new things about myself, and I think that one of the things that I’ve learned is that while I love the charge that comes from dominant play, submission is always going to be a need for me. And that’s no bad thing.

Early Bird Sneak Peek: “Voyeur”!

September 15, 2016

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story when Simon updates in two weeks’ time–”When I Come Around” and “Radio Daze”, teased as Early Bird stories, have already been submitted to the EMCSA. (And Literotica will get “When I Come Around” this weekend on my usual schedule.) But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “Voyeur”! (MC FD MF FF)

Mae has a plan to surprise her sleeping husband with a day in bed. But her next-door neighbor has some surprises too, and these ones Mae only gets to watch. Here’s a taste:

And there was Reed, lying in bed. But that was the only way that the scene in front of her matched what Mae expected to see. He wasn’t curled up under the covers–the bedclothes had fallen onto the floor leaving his naked body completely exposed. He wasn’t asleep, either–his storm-blue eyes were wide open, staring up with a helpless intensity as his hips bucked up and down, over and over, lost in a rhythm of animal lust. And he was staring up at–she was riding–it was–

“Veronica!” Mae shouted, the name of her next-door neighbor escaping her lips in an explosion of incredulous fury. “What the hell are you–“

She never got any further. Veronica’s gaze broke off from Reed the second Mae shouted her name, and she looked over at Mae with a confident look in her eyes. “Freeze,” she said, and suddenly Mae’s angry rant dried up in her throat and her body locked into position in the doorway, watching Veronica straddle her husband on the bed that Mae thought was hers.

Hope you enjoy it!

Surprise Bonus Early Bird Sneak Peek: “Radio Daze”!

September 11, 2016

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 42 heroically devoted Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

I know what you’re saying. “Isn’t the weekly blog post supposed to be in addition to the Sneak Peeks?” And normally it would be, but this is also going to be a bit of a chance to explain why there’s an extra Early Bird story this week. The basic answer is, “Because I really love my Early Bird supporters.”

The slightly more elaborate answer is that I really do want to give my Early Bird supporters more bang for their buck. I’ve always felt like anyone supporting me for at least two dollars should be getting something a little more than just a week’s advance notice on their stories, but I wasn’t sure quite how to do it. And then it hit me last week–why not just bump that timeframe out a bit? I’ve got about a month of extra content, after all. All it takes is just giving them an extra story, and who’s going to complain about that?

So this is the first of a few random, unplanned, untimed, spontaneous Early Bird Jubilee weeks, where my Early Birds will get two stories instead of one! That way, the Early Bird Reward tier on my Patreon page will get you more stories, be more exciting and alluring, and you’ll all want to do it so you can get your smut even earlier and earn more of my adulation and praise. And for everyone else, well…you’ll still get this story, just a couple weeks later. Win-win!

And this week, that bonus story is “Radio Daze” (MC), about a young woman in the late Sixties on her way to a big music festival who tunes into a very strange signal in the small hours of the morning. Here’s a taste:

Ginny turned the volume up, hoping to make out the melody. She thought she heard fragments of ‘Cosmic Charlie’, but that was probably just wishful thinking–this far out in the middle of nowhere, she was more likely to hear Tammy Wynette than the Grateful Dead. Still, she hummed the tune to ‘Cosmic Charlie’ anyway, making it fit the nebulous sounds she heard on the radio and imagining herself listening to them live in just a few days’ time.

The song ended, and another one picked up after it. At least, Ginny thought another song was playing–she could definitely hear music now, albeit fuzzy music that sounded like it was coming from one of those distant stars overhead, but she could also hear someone talking in a voice too garbled to make out. Some sort of crosstalk, probably. She’d experienced it a few times on the long drive, when driving through an area that was right on the edges of the signal strength of two different stations that shared the same frequency. One second you were listening to one song, the next you were listening to two at once.

She turned the frequency knob with a safecracker’s finesse, trying to clear out the interference and get the music to come in clearly, but all she got was a little less static in the mix. She couldn’t get the speech out of the music or the music out of the speech, and neither one of them would resolve into anything intelligible.

Hope you enjoy it!

Early Bird Sneak Peek: “When I Come Around”!

September 8, 2016

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story next week–“Afterglow”, teased as last week’s Early Bird story, has already been submitted to the EMCSA. But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “When I Come Around”! (MC MD MF CB)

The world is once more in peril, but this time it’s not a gaudy maniac like Doctor Darke or a deadly automaton like Ultimax threatening humanity. Jeremiah Whitehawk, secret mastermind behind a thousand evil schemes, is at work once again, and the Devil’s Daughter is called upon to stop him. But has Whitehawk finally found a weapon that can lay low the ultimate spy?

Here’s a taste:

It is unlocked, exactly as I knew it would be. Four hundred fifty years of spycraft, but the basic premises of the clandestine rendezvous remain unchanged. But of course, four hundred fifty years of spycraft has also not changed the man who sent me here to Paris. I begin searching the phone, keeping my attitude carefully desultory. It is difficult, though–I’m eager to learn why John Dee, Spymaster Royal since the time of the first Elizabeth, asked me to help England once again.

I find nothing in the email save boring information on import/export tariffs and cost estimates for shipping goods across the Channel. The bookmarks in the web browser contain nothing but travel agents, investment brokers, and a small selection of eye-watering hardcore pornography. I try not to let my frustration show as I swipe from one page of apps to another.

Then I spot it. An application named ‘Tereza’, with an icon of a silhouetted bird of prey in mid-dive. My heart would quicken, if it beat at all anymore. ‘Tereza’ is my given name, the one I was baptized with on that day almost five hundred years ago when I screamed the offended squall of an infant as the holy water seared my forehead. Even among those who know that I am truly the daughter of Vlad Tepes, sometimes known as Vlad the Impaler or Vlad the Dragon or Vlad the Devil or simply Dracula, few know that name. John Dee is one.

Hope you enjoy it!

Liner Notes for August 2016

September 6, 2016

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 42 unstintingly supportive Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

It’s now September, and before we rush headlong into a new school year, crisp fall evenings, bonfires and sweaters, football season and the annual bemoaning over retail stores’ premature anticipation of Halloween, let’s look back at my August stories and how they came to be!

Breathe It In: This was actually inspired by a friend and occasional play partner of mine from the Tumblr hypnokink community. She enjoyed teasing when I wasn’t in a position to do anything about it, she was clearly fishing for “punishments”, and she had Supergirl panties. These combined with some of my ideas for retaliation into a story that was gender-swapped and heavily fictionalized, but that nonetheless had some notes of authenticity in there.

Pussy Control: This one actually came out of a brief period of…not exactly writer’s block, but definitely some writer’s exhaustion. Like everyone who writes while keeping up a day job and a real life, sometimes it’s hard to fit in a story a week, every week. I try to write two a week when I’m feeling relatively energized, so that I’ve got some in the hopper when I’m not.

This was written right on the tail edge of a very ‘not’ period, and I’ll admit I cheated. I wrote the framing sequence, but the letter was actually one I’d written to a play partner some while earlier. (It didn’t have the hoped-for effect, but that’s another story.) Having a big chunk of the story written for me helped me break out of that fallow stretch, so I’m profoundly grateful I had it lying around.

Keeper of the Flame: I saw this title a long time ago, and I thought it would make for a good story about someone who was part of a line of mind-controlling priestesses who passed their powers down through their family line (while ensuring that line’s continuance through use of said mind control, natch). The exact details were a little hazy up until I got the idea of someone lost in a not-so-good neighborhood, and destiny sort of taking a hand.

But as I wrote it, it became weirdly melancholy. I don’t think it turned out badly at all, but it was really a lot more about how frustrating it must be to know that your grand destiny in life is pretty much just to incubate a baby and teach them about their grand destiny. Isra wound up being very different to my usual mind controller in that regard. (Oh, and for those of you wanting to know more about her faith, um…I punted on a lot of those details. I knew they were once powerful, that they were overthrown, and that they’ve gone on in secret since then. Everything else–their ideology, their history, all that–I hinted at rather than revealing and let you do all the hard work of inventing a mythos for them. If you disagree with this philosophy, ask yourself: Did you find the Jedi more interesting after the prequels, or less?)

Fix You: This was a request from one of my Patrons, who wanted to see a woman going to a psychiatrist for help with her mental issues, the psychiatrist using a strobe device to brainwash her, and the revelation that her “mental issues” were actually her fighting back against the brainwashing all along. Oh, and lots of titplay. Oh, and a shower scene. Oh, and it should be called “Fix You”. As it turned out, there were a lot of other “oh ands” that came along after the fact, including a desire to edit the story and an expectation of a 150,000 word length. Which is why I do warn my Patrons that if your idea of what a story should look like gets really specific, you may be better off writing it yourself. I’m pretty satisfied with the end result, though.

And that’s August in the books! New blog post next week, new Liner Notes the first week of every month! See you then!

Early Bird Sneak Peek: “Afterglow”!

September 1, 2016

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story next week–“My Mind Is Gone”, teased as last week’s Early Bird story, has already been submitted to the EMCSA. But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “Afterglow”! (MC FF)

Lots of stories (especially mine) end with the deeply brainwashed slave cumming their brains out in helpless ecstasy. But sometimes, the orgasm is only the beginning of the story…

Susannah comes.

It’s even more intense this time, a constant throb of sensation that pulses out from her clit and overwhelms her every single thought with pleasure. A part of her mind floats above it all like a tiny boat riding a massive swell, but all it can do is marvel at the sheer power of the orgasmic bliss that keeps hitting her over and over. Her muscles tense up, locked tight in an attempt to hold onto the moment forever and all the ecstasy that comes along with it. She lets out a high, quivering yowl at the moment when she crests the final, shattering climax and her pussy clenches hard around Robyn’s pumping fingers, and then her body can’t sustain it anymore and she goes limp.

“That’s it,” Robyn coos, slowly withdrawing her fingers and leaving behind a trickle of wetness that seeps into the mattress, already damp in places from so many previous orgasms. Susannah mews softly as they slip free, the tiny sensations magnified by post-coital sensitivity. “That’s my good girl. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Hope you enjoy it!

The Hardest Command to Obey

August 30, 2016

(This post has been brought to you by the efforts of my 41 astonishingly wonderful Patrons! Visit my Patreon page to learn how to become one of them.)

The other evening, Goddess pounced me as we were going to bed–She just looked at me with a certain set to Her eyes, and I knew that I was going to sink deep for Her. She took me very far under and She told me that I was a good boy, that I had earned this, and She played with my mind very deliciously for a long time. When She brought me up, She told me again that I had earned it. That I’ve been very supportive of Her while She’s had Her ongoing health issues, and that She was proud of Her good boy. And She said She wondered how I felt when She told me those things.

It’s hard to admit that the answer is “a little nervous” sometimes.

Because I don’t really feel like a good boy very often. I’ve never been very good at accepting praise, and my self-esteem is probably not in a very good place even after years of unconditional love and affection. Even when I’m in the absolute deepest trance She can put me in (and that’s very deep indeed) there’s a part of me that hears that phrase and begins to catalogue all the ways that I’ve failed to please Her. It keeps brutal track of every time I’ve been too tired to do some chore or another, every time I’ve forgotten something at the store, every time I’ve accidentally brushed a sore spot while petting Her or made Her worry about where I was or spent time writing instead of time with Her. My subconscious mind is very good at reminding me of the ways I’ve failed.

There’s a line I wrote in a story that sums it up: “I’m not afraid of Her, but I’m always afraid of disappointing Her.”

So a part of me always wants to rebel when I hear those words. “You’re a good boy.” “You earned this.” A part of me feels fundamentally unworthy of so much love and pleasure, of the kind of devotion that comes from being owned. It’s something I’m always working on; I trust Goddess implicitly, and I always remind myself that if She places Her faith and praise in me, then I must be doing something right. I’m conditioning myself to believe what She believes. But it’s not easy.

But that’s what makes it all the more important to hear. That’s what makes it so powerful; when She strips away all my resistance and leaves me completely open to Her will and Her control, I am what She chooses to fill me with. And She chooses to fill me with love. She chooses to fill me with praise and affection. She chooses to show me what I look like through Her eyes, and what I am to Her is devotion and care. I can’t always see it as well as I could, but the greatest gift She can possibly give, the one that leaves me quivering in gratitude, is to keep showing it to me. That’s why I love Her so much.

I don’t feel like a good boy very often. But for Her, I will always be the best I can be.

Early Bird Sneak Peek: “My Mind Is Gone”!

August 25, 2016

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story next week–“Fix You”, teased as last week’s Early Bird story, has already been submitted to the EMCSA. But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “My Mind Is Gone”! (MC FF)

Viv has pulled the ultimate in all-nighters, but she’s finally through the worst of it–all she has to do now is stay up until the end of the day to get her sleep schedule back on track. But she’s so brain-fried she can’t think at all…so isn’t it lucky that her roommate Cammie is here to do all the thinking for her? Here’s a taste:

I don’t even notice when Cammie walks in. I’m telling myself that I can’t go to bed yet, not without fucking up my sleep schedule something awful, but my eyes aren’t listening to me as well as they did even a few hours ago. The television keeps jumping from one scene to the next and sometimes all the way to another show, and I’m well past the point where caffeine is doing anything for me. Cammie takes one look at me and says, “Why aren’t you asleep, girl?”

My response is to flinch in surprise, whiplash my head in her general direction, stare at her like she teleported into the living room, and say, “Huh?” It’s not exactly my finest moment, but my mind is gone. I have used up all my thinking brains for the day, and all I’m doing is running out the clock until it’s eight (my arbitrary cut-off separating “going to bed early” from “falling over in the middle of the day and entering a sleep-deprivation induced coma”) and I can collapse. Intelligent conversation is not happening.

And Cammie knows it. Even if she hadn’t been witness to my epic life-or-death struggle against the forces of Finals, Asshole Bosses Who Won’t Let Me Have Any Time Off, and Sister’s Wedding In Eau Claire, the dark circles under my eyes and my slack facial expression would have made it clear. “Viv,” she says, “I’m serious. Why aren’t you already asleep?”

Hope you enjoy it!