Wednesday, December 17, 2014


That’s right, I was invited to a Clothed Female / naked male party. For research, of course. All the participants knew I’m an erotic romance author and were happy to share their expertise. And their bums.

So there I was, decked out in my short leather pleated skirt and clingy red top, shiny calf-high boots and sheer black thigh-highs, joining a group of Dommes who would eventually spank and/or paddle naked males.

Wow. Research takes strange forms. But I shouldered on.

It started out like any cocktail party, all of us clothed and nibbling on hors d’oeuvres and sipping wine while milling around the kitchen counter, revisiting old friends and making new ones. A few committed couples (i.e., either married or living together) with FemDom and male slave, one couple who often played together as Domme and sub, and myself and another unpartnered women.

Eventually a signal was given by the hostess and the resident slave shucked shirt, shoes and pants and strode around naked, picking up empty glasses and encouraging the other men to follow suit. One cute guy actually donned a sheer apron over his naked body as he rinsed wine glasses.

Oh yeah, it was hard to act sophisticated, to keep my eyes from ogling strong shoulders and round asses. Naked shoulders, naked asses. But I did it.

Spanking implements
At last we trooped to the basement, where a large, carpeted room and its two cushy sofas awaited us, along with a plethora of spanking implements. During the course of the evening I learned how to use canes, crops, tawses, ceramic paddles, straps, belts, wooden spoons and of course, the palm of the hand. Which, I have to admit, hurt me probably as much as it hurt the men. I’m told it takes lots of practice to get calluses on your hand. And there’s a certain way to strike the meatiest part—upward, cupping your palm, to minimize the sting to you, but maybe not to your partner *grin*.

The hostess began the “formal” part of the evening with a demonstration of rhythmic spanking to suitable music (Note to self: ask for her playlist). The male unfolded a sturdy massage table and lay face-down thereon. Using various implements, Mistress proceeded to show how to warm up the skin, starting softly, moving around so no one spot took too much at once. Notably, she always had one hand on some part of his skin while the other did the beating. This was, of course, to establish and maintain connection and communication.

Occasionally she ran a soothing hand over the reddening areas. At times she’d do a little impromptu dance in time to the music, showing how much she enjoyed what she was doing. She also used both palms to strike with when the spirit moved her. The gentleman made noises of pleasure and sometimes offered funny remarks, which were gleefully met with harder spanks. You could tell they’ve been doing this for quite a while.

Then it was free-for-all time. A set of game dice geared to spanking appeared: three oversize dice with, I think, fourteen facets (think of a cube with all eight corners cut off). One die contained numbers. This was the number of hits; the largest number of the evening was 29. A second die chose the implement; the one most coveted was “wild” wherein the top could use any implement of choice. The third was how: on hands and knees, in a corner, against a wall, on the floor, over the knee, bending over with hands on ankles, and various other permutations.

Since the male/female ratio was uneven, we did a round-robin, where all the women eventually had several chances at all the men, who were never allowed to lounge around. It was a discomfiting experience at first to have a naked man lying across my lap, face down, rump in the air, awaiting seventeen whacks with a hairbrush. It wasn’t until the third or fourth go-round that I began to really get into the swing of it (and the men’s bums had warmed up sufficiently) and allowed myself to thwack as hard as I perceived they could take and would want.

Lexan paddle
I must say, I found myself just the tiniest bit sadistic by the end of the evening. I was exhilarated and energized, tickled to see the squirming, the reddening, the enjoyment of the men from my efforts. I saw what kinds of marks each implement made, learned how much force to use in each case. I decided that this evening put me, again, firmly in the Switch category. Because really, what's not to like about having naked men at your feet? Or on your lap, or against the wall or...

My favorite implement? The photo shows a Lexan paddle, which makes beautiful marks on skin. The science behind it, it was explained to me, was that the holes lower the resistance to air and can therefore provide a heavier impact. Which in turn provides a delicious reaction. Of course I had to have someone show, not tell me. It’s a real ouchie!

By the way, there was no sex involved. No touching of genitals, no exchanges of bodily fluids. Just an atmosphere of fun and power exchanges and spanking. It was, in a word, awesome. Would I do it again? Absoluely!

Stay tuned for more adventures in the name of research.

~~ Cris Anson

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Perilous Play by Suz deMello

My guest today is Suz deMello, one of the authors in the eighth What to Read… series. I’m being a little sneaky here. She gave me a few excerpts saying “please choose one”, but honest, they’re all so hot, I’m taking literary license to give you TWO of them. Enjoy!
~~ Cris

from #WTRAFSOG (#BDSM #memoir @fetlife  @MFRW_ORG)

I’m so delighted to be a part of the eighth What to Read After Fifty Shades of Grey boxed set, which includes squirm-inducing, edgy erotic fiction. My fictionalized memoir is part of this set. Check it out:

One woman’s journey into the contemporary kink underworld, Perilous Play is Suz deMello’s explosive personal account of her experiences with BDSM. Engaging and honest, this groundbreaking memoir will grab you and never let you go.


He hooded me and draped me over a hassock in the living room. The fire was blazing; though I wasn’t drunk, I was pleasantly mellow and immediately became aroused by the position. I love being taken on my hands and knees, and the hassock was even better, because it supported my weight. I just lay there and relaxed.

Then he wrapped cuffs around to my wrists and ankles, hogtied me and gagged me.

And did I mention I was naked?

I don’t remember everything that went on. That’s the funny thing about such intense sex. It’s completely mind-bending. With perspective and research, I now know that the intensity of the sex releases oxytocin, a “feel-good” hormone that has amnesiac properties. It contributes to forgetfulness.

Unfortunately, another effect of oxytocin is bonding—in fact, it’s referred to as “the bonding hormone.” Though I did not know it and certainly didn’t consent, I was involuntarily becoming bonded to Trapper Hart.


Trapper’s first word to me was, “Kneel.”

I obeyed, more excited than I had ever been.

He collared me, of course, then buckled wrist and ankle cuffs on me. I went down on him for a long time, with him showing me how he most liked to be blown. Nevertheless, he didn’t come, and I was frantic about that. Last time, he’d lavished praise on my oral skills. And now…?

I stood to pee, and he followed me into the bathroom. When we were both done, he wrapped his arms around me in a full-body embrace.

I had never felt so cherished in my life. Trapper’s hugs were all consuming, his kisses magic.

Then, without warning, he swatted my bottom. Hard.

I yelped.

“Don’t yell in my ear,” he growled, and slapped my ass again.

I buried my face in his shoulder and emitted a squeak.

The spanking went on and on, with Trapper holding me tight and determinedly slapping my rump until, quivering, I could do nothing but gasp, “Please sir, please sir, please sir, please…” my usual refrain.

Then he wanted me to cry. For him. But as distraught as I was over the emotional situation, I couldn’t drag forth even a single tear.

He hooded and gagged me. Using metal loops embedded in the black leather cuffs, he tied me to the four-poster bed spread-eagled, face down.

I shook with anticipation. He was going to spank me some more, and boy, I needed that. Needed the pain that would blossom into sweet pleasure when he entered me with his cock. Needed the fierce orgasms that would tear through my body, leaving me limp.

Here’s where you can buy this excellent boxed set:

About Suz deMello:

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written seventeen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s held the positions of managing editor and senior editor, working for such firms as Totally Bound and Ai Press. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.


A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

--Find her books at

--For editing services, email her at
--Befriend her on Facebook:
--She tweets @Suzdemello
--Her current blog is