Friday, June 20, 2014

Slave Girls: Erotic Stories of Submission - Blog Tour!


They can be simple and vanilla.

Roses before a pleasant interlude of love-making.

Holding hands.

Kissing beneath a full moon.

A sweet endearment whispered in the ear.


Or they can be a very, very different sort of desire.

A craving.

A hunger to be possessed.


A yearning to be subsumed by a . . . masterful man.

And be used in oh so many decadent ways.

To feel the bite of teeth on the ear.

To hear a different sort of endearment.


A submissive’s craving.

A slave’s hunger.

To please her Master.

Within the pages of “Slave Girls: Erotic Stories of Submission”, these cravings are revealed.

These dark desires are explored.

Hungers are sated.

The wickedly good authors in this torrid collection feed their passion – and yours – for Masters and Mistresses and the slave girls who serve them.

“My Master’s Mark” is one such story. It is a kinky duet of raunch, and rabid appetites. Allow me to share an appetizer:

The continued steady application of the tattoo needle kept the sensations ramping up. The endorphin glow had begun. The pain was throbbing now, the way it did when Master used his hand on the same spot, again and again until my muscles quivered with the effort not to squirm away, to not use the word. The word. My safe word. During all the years I’d been his “slut slave”, I’d never needed to use it. I’d been tempted. And he’d always let me know how much he enjoyed the challenge of pushing me and he often vowed that, before he died, he would break me.

But I’d never used it because I wallowed in everything he did to me. I craved seeing that look of heated pleasure in his eyes.

Sick? Some might say so. But Master M and I made beautiful music together. The counterpoint between sadist and pain slut. The whish of the paddle, my hiss at the blows. His basso-profundo chuckle as my ass turned red, and my moans rising and falling as he forced me to the limits of my endurance. Then that expectant moment – the crescendo when the very air hummed - those times he waited for me to say the word before, with a grunt of satisfied lust, he’d let me have one last, blistering smack. When I punctuated our virtuoso duet with a shrill scream, it was like applause for his rousing performance.

I hope this morsel has whetted your appetite for more.

Why not give in to temptation?

Haven’t you ever craved a little . . . sting?

A smorgasbord of delights awaits between the covers of this torrid collection, gathered together for your pleasure by editor extraordinaire, D. L. King. Each one delectable. Mouth-watering.

Why not indulge your . . . tastes?

Go ahead.

Feed that kinky passion of yours, ladies and gentlemen.

* * * *

You can still visit the prior posts of the anthology contributors here:

June 1 D. L. King
June 2 Rachel Kramer Bussel
June 3 Alison Tyler
June 4 Valerie Alexander
June 5 Nina Fairweather
June 6 Sommer Marsden
June 7 Evan Mora
June 8 Victoria Behn
June 9 Donna George Storey
June 10 Teresa Noelle Roberts
June 11 Erzabet Bishop
June 12 Lisette Ashton
June 15 Giselle Renarde
June 16 Lisabet Sarai
June 17 Graydancer
June 18 Deborah Castellano
June 19 Nym Nix
June 21 Lydia Hill

“Slave Girls” is available, in print and digital formats, at all major distributors & bookstores, including Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Apple.

For more Lydia Hill/Lise Horton erotica (free reads!) you can also visit my blog, Lust In the Afternoon at .

1 comment:

  1. It was now my sister’s turn to dare me. She was reluctant, and hesitantly told me that she felt so good when I was using a crayon near her arsehole and that she wanted me to kiss her arsehole. She had a cute desperate ring in her voice which turned me on so much. I agreed ever so happily. She went on her knees again and held her butt crack open. I put my face onto her soft and warm arse.