11 February 2015

Wipitup Wednesday - New Excerpt from my Uber Secret Project!

A rather unusual job interview...

A week later, she found herself sitting in an enormous, starkly furnished reception area, surrounded by fatally glamorous women—all of whom were frantically reapplying make-up and giving everyone else derisive looks.
The tension and excitement in the air was palpable, but there was also an underlying current of foreboding, as though they were waiting outside the headmaster’s office. By the time her name was called, Hazel could feel the sweat breaking out on her upper lip and trickling between her shoulder blades, despite the glacial air conditioning. Tripping awkwardly towards the vast, frosted glass door, she cursed herself for even thinking she’d be in with a chance.
The man sitting at the enormous desk stood up when she entered the room. Hazel caught a glimpse of closely cropped silver hair and a whiff of musky aftershave before dropping her gaze to the floor.
I’m out of my league.
“Please sit, Miss Jenkins.”

Hazel sidled to the white pvc and chrome chair opposite his desk and perched there, clasping her hands together to hide the fact that they were shaking.
“Why so nervous?”
When she didn’t respond, his voice had dropped an octave. “Look at me.”
His eyes, when she finally summoned the courage to look into them, were friendly, twinkling, and a most unusual colour—like dark honey. Her mouth went dry.
“I asked you a question, young lady,” he said, still holding her gaze. “Why are you nervous?”
“I-I’m not sure.”
“Do not you believe you’re qualified for the position? After all,” he glanced down at what she recognised as being her resume in front of him, “you have extensive experience working in some of Australia’s finest five star establishments.”
“I do.” It was more a croak than a statement.
“And you’re extraordinarily pretty. Do you have a boyfriend?”
Hazel’s heart began to pound. I want the job, but not if I have to... “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything,” she blurted.
“I’m asking the questions. Are you single—yes or no.”
His tone, combined with the way he was looking at her, was giving her a strange, fluttery sensation in the pit of her stomach. After a moment, she nodded. “Yes Sir, I’m single.”
“Excellent. And tell me, Miss Jenkins, how much real-life experience do you have?”
Her gaze fell on the papers on the desk. “Well, it says it right there; I’ve been working as a hotel receptionist for five years now.”
Simeon chuckled then, a devastating, vaguely mocking rumble. “I don’t mean that.” Getting up from behind his desk, he moved around it, his unblinking, strange eyes never leaving her face.
She could feel his proximity; the warmth radiating off his broad body, that delicious musky scent stronger than ever. Hazel thought she might swoon. Closing her eyes, she waited for him to touch her, but when he didn’t, she opened them again to find him leaning against the desk, looking at her expectantly.
“How much real life scene experience do you have, Miss Jenkins?”
Hazel swallowed hard. “Um. Not much... Sir.”
“Be more precise, please.”
“I-I’ve been to one or two events. As an... an observer.”
He raised a thick, dark eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Never had any form of play? Not even a spanking?”
Mutely, she shook her head.
“Not even when you were a child?”
“N-no, Sir.” Knowing she was blushing furiously, Hazel cursed herself for wearing a pale pink shirt—no doubt it was now clashing terribly with her face.
“Stand up, please.”
Oh God, he’s not... he wouldn’t...
“I’m not going to ask you again.”
Somehow, her body obeyed his instructions without having received any specific order to do so from her mind.
“Turn around.”
Even though she was turning slowly, Hazel suddenly felt incredibly dizzy.
“Good. You may sit back down.”
By the time she was brave enough to look at his face again, he had moved back to his seat behind the broad glass desk.
“Tell me Miss Jenkins, why do you want to work here?”
She shrugged. “I want to learn. About everything. I want to leave my current position. And...”
The look in his eyes was really most unsettling. He didn’t speak, and after what felt like an extraordinarily long time, she felt compelled to continue.
“And I find this whole... this whole concept fascinating.”
As he made a note on her file, she couldn’t help but notice how large his tanned hands were. A gold signet ring flashed on his little finger.

“Thank you,” he’d said at length. “We’ll be in touch.”


I hope you enjoyed this little teaser! For more amazing excerpts from fellow erotica authors, please check out the other links on this blog hop - and don't forget to comment if you liked it!

3 February 2015

So I found myself invited to the Castle...

Turns out Master Marshall wanted to have 'a word' with me for *ahem* disregarding the Castle's privacy standards and writing Sharing Silver. I wasn't the only one. Maggie Ryan, Abbie Adams, Darling Adams and, of course, Castle creator Maren Smith herself also had a turn...

What happened?

Here's an excerpt...

The urge to run—and something that might have been excitement if only she weren’t so unnerved—shivered through her, but when Tabby stood up, her feet took her straight to him. Master Marshall held the door for her, but as she slipped in past him, she froze when she saw Maren. She was standing in a corner between the door and fireplace, her hands were folded behind her head and her bright red butt was on full display. Tabby immediately turned around, but already Marshall had closed the door. He didn’t lock it, but with him standing between her and her only avenue of escape, it may as well have been barred, chained, and with guards posted.

She was trapped.

Without a word, Master Marshall pointed to his desk. Ducking her head, Tabby went. Though he didn’t offer, when Tabby reached the first chair, she sat down. While she still could. She looked at him.

“Name,” he asked, sitting down on the edge of his desk and picking up the next file. “Tell me about yourself.”

Clasping her hands tight in her lap, Tabby cleared her throat. “Tabitha Black, but my friends call me Tabby. I’ve been writing naughty stories about spanking and sex for ten years. Despite several attempts to ‘get a real job’, somehow I always end up back in the adult genre… be it as a glamour model, chat host or, of course, writer of erotica.”

He made a note in her file. That was unnerving. What could he possibly be writing? “And your decision to come to the Castle, what brought that about?”
Desperate to diffuse some of the tension in the room, Tabby made a crack at humor. “Pfft,” she said with a wave of her hand. “That’s a silly question!”
Only his eyes moved when he glanced up from his page and pinned her with another ‘Look’.

“Er…” All attempts at humor melted right out of her. She cleared her throat again. “Sir. It’s simple really: the Castle is my idea of paradise. Naughty, lovely women, gorgeous, dominant men.” She looked at him, a slow flush of heat burning straight up from her belly into her face. She cleared her throat again. “A-also the ability to experience all one’s kinky fantasies in one breathtaking setting.

Oh, and the Wardrobe. Who doesn’t like dressing up?”
“Who doesn’t, indeed.” Rather than complimented, as she’d hoped he might be, Master Marshall became only more stern. “Were you unaware of our privacy standards when you wrote your story?”

Tabby’s fingers fidgeted in her lap. “Well…um…yes. But you see, I’ve been meaning to write a ménage for a long time. When I heard about the resident twins, Master Travis and Master Trevor, I couldn’t resist telling their story. They really are devastatingly handsome, even though I’m not usually attracted to blond men.” Her blush deepened as she cast a quick glance at his own blond head. She cleared her throat yet again. “Well… there are exceptions, of course.”
She tried to laugh it off, but it came out sounding too high-pitched and half-strangled.

“Are you nervous?” Master Marshall asked, his silken tone vaguely mocking. He already knew the answer.

“Nope,” Tabby lied, again too high-pitched and still half-strangled. “A-a-anyway, what I really adore about the brothers is their ability to go from easy-going and funny to predatory and—” He made another note in his file, and it was killing her not to know what he was putting down there. “—and faint-makingly intense in an instant. It’s uncanny. No wonder Silver couldn’t resist them. I defy any woman to maintain a dry gusset once they turn those dark glittering eyes on her.”

“How is your gusset right now?” he countered, the corners of his mouth curling into a knowing smile.

The heat in her face kicked up so high it was a wonder she didn’t spontaneously combust where she was sitting.

Without waiting for an answer, Master Marshall said, “I’m curious. Were I to allow you access to our Castle, what program do you think you’d be most interested in trying?”

He was going to let her visit the Castle? Seriously? Momentarily forgetting her embarrassment, poor, sniffling Maren in the corner, everything, Tabby jumped at the chance. “All of them! Although I’d probably go to the dungeon first. I’d like to see whether Master Dominick really is as brilliant as he’s rumoured to be—” She stopped, her eyes rounding wide. “Oh, crap, did I say that out loud?”
Master Marshall’s smile both widened and darkened. “Is that who you’d like to be assigned to, little Ms. Tabby?”

Oh, she did not like the way he’d just said her name. She tried to laugh again, but still couldn’t quite manage it. “Oh, I-I don’t know how I’d possibly be able to choose just one – they’re all wonderful in their own way. But as I said in my previous answer… I’m quite a little masochist, so I’d be very interested to spend some… er… quality time with Master Dominick.”

Master Marshall chuckled then and set his file aside. “Is that a fact? Have you any hard limits, or kinks you’ve never experienced but always wanted to?”

“Not really.” Tabby had to work to keep her tone strong and even. Both the direction of the conversation and the way he kept looking at her were working together to turn her into an absolute wreck right there in his chair. “I’ve been very lucky in that I’ve pretty much tried them all—at least, all the ones which interested me. Maybe I’d delve a little deeper into my Little side, if I found the right Daddy. That’s one aspect of BDSM I haven’t explored very much in real life yet.”

“Hm.” Pushing up off his desk, Master Marshall circled around her chair on his way to the open implement cabinet behind her. “Tell me, what are your favorite implements?”

A softly whispered, “Don’t do it,” issued from somewhere behind her.
“No talking from the corner,” Master Marshall said evenly.

Tabby was beyond heeding any kind of warning. Her belly was a mass of warring nerves and anticipation, dread and excitement. “Anything thuddy,” she admitted. “I like thick, heavy floggers and big… er… sticks. I got paddled with a cricket bat once. It was awesome. I also have a particular weakness for knife play; something I discovered I have in common with Silver.”

“Master Dominick will be thrilled to know that. He doesn’t get to play with his knives anywhere near as often as he would like to.”

A clatter of something heavy and wooden being withdrawn from that cabinet made every wildly buzzing nerve ending in Tabby’s body come to a violent stand still. It was a paddle. A big one, long and heavy. Thuddy, her brain helpfully supplied. She melted.

“Stand up.” Coming back to her, Master Marshall didn’t wait for her to comply, but caught the back of her neck in his strong, warm hand and guided her straight out of her chair. “Bend.”

“Wait…” Tabby said, but it was a weak protest even to her ears. She couldn’t believe it. She was in the Castle, bending over Master Marshall’s desk, and he was taking her pants down. He didn’t even ask first, he just did it! Her breath caught, choking her when she felt him hook the elastic edges of her underwear, pulling it right up into the crack of her buttocks, effectively baring them to the cool press of the heavy wooden paddle.

“I assume you’ve read our brochure?” he asked, seeming so calmly reasonable when suddenly everything inside of her was a jumble of hectic anticipation. “In particular, I assume you are aware of my rule regarding submissives not leaving my office unspanked?”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed, her eyes huge and staring straight down at the wide expanse of his desk just inches from the tip of her nose.

“Good. Then, let’s talk.” The paddle stroked the quivering surface of her almost naked bottom, a single circling pass that seemed to cover every spankable inch of her with very little effort. “In particular, let’s talk about your complete lack of respect for our privacy standards.”



Want to know what happens next? You can find out for FREE by reading Maren's wonderful novella; "Meeting Marshall" on Amazon or Blushing Books. 

As for me... I'll be writing standing up for a day or two. Yum.