Tuesday, 25 April 2017

The F Word


No, not that word (although I love that word!): I'm talking about the other F word.


People talk about it a lot. It's a very interesting word. It makes some people very angry* and other people (like me) feel very happy, as it means we can have freedom and jobs and our own money and, y'know, all that good stuff.

When Mr M (or anyone else for that matter), spanks me (or chokes me or slaps me or calls me a stupid fucking whore or ties me up or... wait, what were we talking about again...?), then my inner feminist doesn't weep or indeed complain in any way. She is happy because I have found lovely people to explore my deepest, trembliest desires with. She is content in the knowledge that all of the spanking, choking, fucking, tying, slapping, etc, etc has been fully discussed and agreed upon beforehand. And she knows that - outside of play - Mr M would no sooner slap me across the face than he would put his own balls in a blender.

So, if you're a woman who enjoys being spanked but worries that it means you're not a 'real' feminist: you're fine, really. Feminism and lovely, consensual BDSM can very happily live together. I mean, they totally do in my brain and in the brains of many lovely kinky feminists I know.

So... yeah. Woo :-).

* Even little old mostly-keeps-her-opinions-to-herself me has been called a 'Feminazi' (yeah, that's totally a word now: it's even made it to the UK) and I have seen feminism described as 'a cancer' (because equal rights for women is like totally the same as a life-threatening disease...)

Tuesday, 18 April 2017

At your service

Oh God, I love maiding. Being a good girl, making the house all pretty, radiating grace and compliance... doing what I'm told, wearing what I'm told, sucking what I'm told...


Sorry, not sure where that all came from...


One of the main differences I have found between writing vanilla fiction and writing erotica is that my goal is not the same. With my vanilla stories, my goal is to tell a good story and to make my readers feel something: be that horror, amusement, sorrow, shock or any other of the range of emotions we possess. The story is a reward within itself: it has no other purpose than to be a story and to entertain.

With my Gracie Malling stories, my goal is to make my reader have an orgasm (or preferably several). So while there will be non-sexual elements to the story, they must not get in the way of the ultimate goal (i.e. the having of (hopefully explosive) orgasms). They can provide back story, context, setting, whatever but they must not interfere with the building of tension or the heightening of desire.

In this way, writing erotica really feeds into my service kink (you may not have noticed but I have a bit of a thing for maiding...) because I am writing for your pleasure and not mine. There may be moments in the story where I wish to add in some darkness or a twist or a crisis - moments I would not hesitate to exploit when writing vanilla fiction - but if it is going to disrupt the slow, trembling climb towards release for my readers then it has to go.

When I am maiding, I will sacrifice my own comfort and/or dignity for the pleasure of my master or mistress. When I am writing, I will sacrifice my own writerly whims for the pleasure of my readers.

*Happy sigh*

You're welcome ;-).

Tuesday, 11 April 2017

Do you want some consent with that?

Punishment, discipline, non-consent... these are the kinks most likely to bring people to my books. I'm not knocking it: these are three of my kinks as well. The concept of being taken to task by a strong disciplinarian who will hold me down if necessary and dispense justice as he/she sees fit?


Fucking sign me up.

However (and it's a really big however), writing non-consent scenarios within the concept of a love story is something I really struggle with. Why? Because - to put it bluntly - I think people who hit other people without their consent are total dicks. Like, complete abusive arseholes. Like seriously, it's not ok.

But... but... the fantasy of it is hot. I get that (hell, I feel that). So my big question to myself when I decided to write in this genre was 'how can I write stories that are hot but don't glamourise abusive relationships?'. Because I've seen those places on the internet - anti-feminist (or y'know just old plain misogynist) places - where the consensus is that this kind of non-consensual M/f relationship is exactly what women need / secretly want and the thought of inadvertantly adding fuel to that hideous fire is the only part of this novelling malarkey that has genuinely given me sleepless nights (well, that and my parents finding out :-p).

So... how has it been working out so far? Well, I've gone for full-on, enthusiastic consent from the start (Troublemaker), initially curious consent leading to full-on enthusiasm (The Soldier's Girl), consensual non-consent within a trusting, communicative relationship (all of them, eventually) and - the closest I've edged to my own personal 'not ok' line - non-consensual discipline which fits within a specific historical context (Claimed by the Captain and my current WIP). The historical thing just about works in my head, as back then an otherwise very lovely and kind 'non-abusive' person might have genuinely seen dispensing discipline in this way as the 'right thing to do' (and likewise the recipient).

Whether or not I have successfully answered my own question to myself, I don't know. The act of writing brings me so close to the story and to the characters that it is difficult to look at any of them objectively. So while I know that everyone involved is having a fine old kinky time, feels safe and loved, and is in no way traumatised by what is happening, I don't know that every reader is seeing it this way.

I guess the thing to remember is that this kind of fiction is a fantasy and often bears little resemblance to a real life D/s relationship (where consent, limits and, y'know, breakfast preferences are discussed in detail before any spanking happens (or was that just me?!), and safewords are firmly in place from the start). Stories give us the chance to put aside real-life concerns and disappear into pure heart-thumping, leg-wobbling fantasy... and I understand that, I really do.

But... but...


You know, Mr M says I tend to over-think things...

Monday, 20 March 2017

Ellen's first time

Captain Thomas Edwards - hero of Claimed By The Captain - is very much a man of action: a spank-first-talk-later kind of guy.

Our heroine, Ellen Makepeace, however, believes that rules are made to be broken.

When fate brings them together, they have barely exchanged more than a few words before the following scene unfolds in the Captain's chamber...


He hadn’t expected her to give in easily and so he wasn’t surprised when she attempted to dart past him and get to the door.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, catching her around the waist with one arm. She let out an incoherent cry of outrage and tried in vain to wrench herself free. Thomas could feel her heart pounding against his arm.

Let me go!

“Calm yourself, Ellen!” he scolded, as he pulled her toward the wooden table in the middle of the room. “Anyone would think you had never been thrashed before.”

I have not!

Thomas could scarcely believe her. It seemed incredible that she could have reached adulthood without being chastised at least once. “Well, if that is true, I will soon remedy the situation.”

“You… will… not…” she ground out, still struggling against him with all her might.

“I will,” he said, holding her down over the table and pulling up the back of her dress. “I am your master and it is my duty.”

Ellen wriggled and kicked her legs but Thomas held her fast, unfastening her drawers with one hand and then doing his utmost not to stare at her beautiful bottom as the white fabric fell away. She gasped and froze under his arm. He could only assume it was the shame of being exposed in this way.

“How many apples did you steal, Ellen?” Thomas arranged himself into the right position, still holding Ellen in place.

“I… I…”

He tapped the belt lightly against her bottom and she flinched. “Shall we say a dozen?”

“Please…” All of her bravado seemed to have abandoned her.

“A dozen it is.”

Thomas drew back the belt and steadied himself. He had an urge to go easy on her, to be merciful—if this was indeed her first time, it would be a great shock.

But no. This was a punishment. It was his duty to keep her safe and he couldn’t fail her now.

Thomas pressed his lips together and then brought the belt down hard across her bare bottom.