Friday, 26 September 2014

The Instructor

by permission
Before I can register the movement, he brings his hand down sharply across my bottom. I yelp, flinging my hands behind me to shield myself. He seizes my arm and holds me firmly, gathering my wrists together in the small of my back. Then, without a word, he spanks me. His hand connects with my tender bottom again and again, making me whimper and struggle. But he holds me fast. I can do nothing but cry out as he rains down a volley of stinging slaps across my cheeks. The punishment lasts a long time and I am crying long before he is satisfied.

When he releases my wrists I rub the burning flesh of my bottom, then wipe my tear-streaked face, sniffling piteously. In the silence that follows I find myself daring to hope that he will feel bad about how he has treated me, that he will realize I’m not the one he wants for this purpose, that he will let me go.

At the same time I am aware of a strange response within myself. The pain is fading to a tingle that isn’t at all unpleasant. In fact, I can feel the warm wetness between my legs as I stand trembling before him, gingerly touching my sore bottom with cool fingertips. If I’m honest with myself, there’s something thrilling about actions that have consequences. It’s not something I’m used to.

“What is your name?” he asks again.

I open my mouth to speak my name again, but then I shut it just as quickly. That isn’t what he wants to hear. I turn my tearful face to look at him and shake my head slightly in confusion, not daring to speak.

Something like a smile softens his features and in a lower voice he asks, “What is your name – slave?”

This time he emphasises the last word and I understand what he wants me to say. He’s training me. Conditioning me. I should be outraged but instead I find myself pressing my legs together and after a moment’s hesitation I answer “slave.” Then I add “sir.”

from "The Instructor" by Rose de Fer

Available in Hungry for More

Monday, 11 August 2014

The Big Book of Submission Blog Tour

Fancy a short sharp shock? Better yet - fancy 69 short sharp shocks? Then you should get your greedy little hands on a copy of Rachel Kramer Bussel's The Big Book of Submission.

Here's a peek at my story, a voyeuristic little fantasy called "Room With a View":

I wondered if they had any idea just how much I could see from my window. I should have done the neighborly thing and told them. Gone over with some tea and biscuits and a casual “Oh, by the way, you do know I can see absolutely everything from across the road, don’t you?” But of course I didn’t.
One evening they looked dressed for the opera – he in an elegant dinner suit and she in a lovely clingy red satin gown. They never left the flat. They had a long, intense conversation in the bedroom and even without the binoculars I could tell there was a strange dynamic. Their body language intrigued me. She hung her head, clasping her hands nervously behind her back while he frowned down at her. Then she knelt on the floor before him. Heat surged through my body as she lifted her arms, offering him her wrists. He tied them with a little silk scarf and suddenly I understood the scrolled iron bed frame.
My sex pulsed as he led her, not to the bed, but to the door. He pushed her back against it and looped her bound wrists up over the coat hook. Her face was flushed as she arched her back and rolled her hips invitingly. Then he tore open her dress at the front, exposing her breasts. I gasped at the sudden violence as if the exposure were my own. With firm hands he traced the swell of her bare breasts, each dusky pink nipple stiffening beneath his touch. I pressed my legs together as he held up the riding crop.

Submission takes many forms in this collection of 69 short stories, from straining in bondage to taking a spanking, being put on display, and beyond. By turns bratty and worshipful, these submissives will go to great lengths to fulfill their naughtiest fantasies and are rewarded splendidly by their masters and mistresses. A student returns to show his former teacher who’s really in charge, a photo shoot becomes an opportunity for erotic games, and a man revels in his wife’s past as a former dominatrix. These brats, masochists, and hungry-for-sensation subs go above and beyond for the ones they adore, pushing themselves to new limits while their devious dominants put them through their paces. Edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel, these short stories sizzle with the tension of erotic power play, commands followed, and service willingly performed.

You can read excerpts from all 69 stories here.

And you can check out the other authors on the tour by clicking here.

Available from and

Friday, 4 July 2014

Room With a View

Tonight it’s a new game. 
She stands before him in a pleated tartan miniskirt, a generous expanse of thigh on show between her black stockings and the hem of the skirt. Her tight white blouse is knotted together beneath her breasts, flaunting even more skin. He crosses his arms with frowning disapproval and shakes his head. I can guess what’s coming next.
He seats himself on the side of the bed, facing the window. The authority in his expression makes me squirm. It makes her squirm too as she moves to his side and places herself across his lap. He strokes her back, running his hand down the curve of her spine, making her shudder. Then he lifts her skirt. Her girlish white knickers are a contrast to the rest of her sexy outfit but he doesn’t let her keep them. He peels them down over her cheeks, baring the peach of her bottom. She’s trembling. So am I.
When he starts to spank her I slip my hand down inside my own knickers, not at all surprised by the wetness I find there. She kicks her long legs and struggles as his hand comes down again and again on her bare bottom. It’s all I can do to hold the binoculars steady.

from "Room With a View" by Rose de Fer

Available in The Big Book of Submission

Monday, 30 June 2014

Darker Edge of Desire

Coming soon from Cleis Press and editor Mitzi Szereto:

Come to the Darker Edge of Desire...

Love, passion and sex . . . it’s all here in Darker Edge of Desire. Gothic literature has always possessed a dark attraction ripe with the promise of the forbidden and the sensual. In Darker Edge of Desire, Mitzi Szereto takes the sexualized Gothic and ratchets it up a few notches into the danger zone, opening a door into the darker side of lust and love that only the courageous dare to venture through. Venturing even farther into the world of mystery and romance than she did in the critically acclaimed Red Velvet and Absinthe, Szereto creates an atmosphere with a distinct Gothic flavor where we explore our more forbidden desires. In these tales, love and lust (and kink!) know no boundaries, and all nature of beings —vampires, werewolves, shape shifters, ghosts, and succubae — abound. Tread carefully, danger and desire lie ahead!

The anthology is available now for pre-order and you can read some excerpts here.

There's also a Facebook fan page.

Saturday, 3 May 2014

Out of the Waves

With barely a thought for what she was doing, she swam at once for the boat. She dived beneath it and waited. The dolphins followed her, nudging her and thumping her with their tails, nipping at her fins and urging her to escape. She smiled and stroked them, reassuring them that she knew what she was doing. Confused, they darted around the boat before finally leaving her to her peculiar decision.

The net plunged into the water, dragging behind as the boat began to move again. Naiae steeled herself and swam straight towards it. She thrust her arms through the holes and struggled to entangle herself further. The mesh pressed against her bare breasts, a tactile sensation both unfamiliar and thrilling. She knew from watching the man that her movements would alert him. Then he would haul the net up.

Sure enough, it began to close around her and she felt herself being pulled towards the surface. Her fear was almost as intense as her anticipation. How would he react when he saw what he had caught?

Naiae kept her eyes closed, listening to the gentle slosh of waves against the boat. She could hear the sound of the man’s breathing as he reeled the net in. Then his breathing stopped.

When she opened her eyes he was staring down at her, a look of incredulity on his face. He’d been expecting a dolphin and now he was faced with something entirely other.

“My god,” he whispered.

Naiae wriggled a little in the net, gazing up at him. Her hands were sufficiently tangled that she couldn’t smooth away the wet hair from her face and even this small helplessness made her shudder with excitement. There was no chance of escape now. She was his, to do with whatever he wanted.

from "Out of the Waves" by Rose de Fer

Available in A Princess Bound: Naughty Fairy Tales for Women

Sunday, 27 April 2014

The Locked Room

Photo by kind permission 
I am on all fours now, my body bent forward over the leather padding, a trembling figure composed of right angles. George gently spreads my legs and I sigh, wanting to be touched. He draws a finger down between my cheeks, making me shiver, but he doesn’t go any further. Instead he arranges my legs how he wants them and I feel something cold and smooth against my right ankle. A strap. I hear the creak of leather as he pulls it tight and buckles it. He does the same to my left ankle and then both thighs, just above the knees. A wide thick strap goes across my lower back, holding me firmly in place. It sets my heart pounding even more. Lastly he guides my arms down by my sides and buckles them into the cuffs dangling from the sides of the bench. I strain against my bonds, testing their strength, confirming that I am well and truly helpless. My heart is racing.

I try to calm myself but my breathing only comes in short panting gasps. I’m afraid but I also want to please him.

“Good girl,” he says, as though reading my mind, sensing my need for reassurance. “You will make me proud, won’t you?”

All I can do is nod. I don’t know the rules of the game. All I know is that I trust him. I love him madly and I trust him absolutely. He knew more about my body in one night than my husband did after ten years. He awakened things in me. He brought me to life. I am his, completely.

“I’m going to whip you now, Julie.”

from "The Locked Room" by Rose de Fer

Available in The Mammoth Book of Erotic Romance and Domination

Thursday, 9 January 2014


I breathe slowly, shallowly, so as not to disturb the presentation of food. The smell is intoxicating and I long for a bite of fish, the tingle of ginger and wasabi on my tongue. But for now I am merely a decoration, an attractive display for the artfully arranged delicacies. In other rooms, other girls are bound as I am, their bodies serving the same erotic aesthetic. From somewhere I can hear the melancholy notes of a shamisen being played by one of the hostesses.

I feel the cool touch of Ayame’s fingers as she gently lifts the flask of sake from between my legs. My body heat has warmed the sweet wine and I close my eyes, listening to the soft splash as she fills each guest’s cup. The sleeve of her silk kimono brushes my skin as she moves past me. When she is done she replaces the flask, pressing it firmly up against my sex. I imagine her playful smile as I resist the temptation to squirm against it.

“Kanpai!” say the two couples seated around me. They drink deeply after the toast and I listen for the clatter of chopsticks as their eyes roam over the food on offer.

My senses are highly attuned to the slightest sound, the slightest scent. The lady to my right is wearing a beautiful fragrance that has something of jasmine in it. I lie motionless as her chopsticks skillfully lift a slice of fish from my belly and she sighs with pleasure at its taste. My chest barely rises as I breathe. 

The man across from her at my left shoulder must be her husband. He goes next, choosing one of the sushi rolls further up my body. He prods my ribs with his chopsticks, deliberately I suspect. But I am too well trained to react. There is as much an art to eating from a woman’s body as from being the platter that presents the food. My mouth waters and my sex moistens but those are the only responses I am allowed.

Ayame refills their sake cups, this time grinding the flask a little harder against me as she replaces it. I smile inwardly at her challenge, enjoying the tingle it sends up through my body. I already have gooseflesh from the cold food arrayed on my skin and my nipples have puckered beneath the salmon roe.

One by one the sashimi slices and maki rolls and nigiri rolls disappear from my flesh. The jasmine lady’s husband gently removes a single salmon egg the size of a pea from the clutch with his chopsticks and lifts it to my mouth. I imagine he is keen to make me react in some inappropriate manner. Perhaps he wants to see me punished. My pulse quickens at the thought.

from "Nyotaimori" by Rose de Fer

Available in Best Women's Erotica 2014