Thursday, January 31, 2013


     "Shhh." I said soothingly as he leaned his stubbled cheek against my hand. "You did very well. I haven't had so much fun in a long time..."
     He opened his eyes, staring at me with something akin to adoration. "I liked it too." he said in a husky voice. "Alot."

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

To Revise or Rewrite...

Each story that I work on becomes a labour of love, and I don't subscribe to the practice of revising as I go, since if I did, I probably wouldn't get anywhere.

Inevitably, when the rough draft has been written, I must read it through to get an idea of what works and what doesn't. Usually, I'm so in love with my story and so confident with my own brilliance (haha) that I only see a couple of things that need tweaking plot-wise and alot of language that needs working on. Sometimes, however, when I'm already in a mid-winter funk, reading over a rough draft is an exercise in self doubt and disappointment.

I just went through this with The Cross and The Trinity. I'd had no doubts about the story during the planning and writing of it. But when I read through the first half of it this week and over a particular turning point, I had sincere doubts about whether it really worked as a semi-realistic plot. In fact, I knew instinctively that there was something really wrong. It even threw the entire story into doubt for a time. I posted on Facebook that I would essentially rewrite the whole novel, going in a different direction. And I began to do so. But as I set about writing a new outline, I realized I wasn't really sure about this plot either.

I decided to read a little more of the existing rough draft, just to see if it could be altered enough to be believable. Luckily, I figured out that adding some time lapse and changing the motivation for one essential decision was the key to making the story work. There is a good story here - and I'm glad I realized it before scrapping the whole thing.

I think that writers, especially those who have yet to be published, can get caught up in a cycle of enthusiasm for, and belief in, the story they are writing, and self-doubt and criticism of their work. We are sensitive creatures. No doubt every story needs a going over and a concentrated revision and polish before submission. But to scrap it and essentially start over would be an exercise in frustration, as no story ever works out exactly as you'd envisioned it. The key is to go back, change anything that needs changing, fix up the wording, submit it and cross your fingers. The publisher will know whether your story is worth contracting.

~ Liz


     Sunlight streaming in from the single window bathed him in ethereal light. He slept deeply, no doubt as the result of yesterday's move. We'd only been able to throw a couple of sheets and a bunch of pillows on the mattress before collapsing into an exhausted heap. 
     My hand lay over his hip and I relished the heat of him, the softness of his skin, and the gentle movements of his sleeping breaths. I admired his rough ginger beard, the feathering of hair in his armpit, and thought about how we would spend the next twenty-four hours. 
     To hell with unpacking. I vowed then and there to christen every room of the apartment before the sun went down this evening. I'd let him sleep for now. He'd need his strength...

Tuesday, January 29, 2013


     He lay there, naked and vulnerable, with his head hanging back and his hand covering his testicles. The  top of his semi-erect penis peeked from beneath, teasing me with its proximity.
     "What do you want?" I asked, peeling off my jeans.
     "Whatever you've got." he answered, turning to watch me with intense brown eyes. "Just...hurry please."


Monday, January 28, 2013


      And then it was just the two of us. He took off his hat and laid it on the table.
      “You have good timing,” I said, staring at him and sipping my drink.
      He cleared his throat. “I don’t think your sister would agree with you.”
      I shrugged. “My sister and I don’t agree on much. Except, apparently, on the men we want to fuck.”
      He stared at me. “Shit.”
      I grinned. I licked my lips slowly and deliberately.
      “Amy wants to fuck me?” Hearing him say fuck sent a jolt to my cock.
      I nodded, almost snorting. “She’s got it bad.”
      Janice arrived with Michael’s drink. He took it, relieved. Once she’d gone, he slid further into the booth so that he was right beside me. He had a better view of the stage, so it didn’t look too weird.
      “So…” He took a sip of his drink. “You said you do some freelance writing. What kind of stuff?”
      I shrugged. “Whatever I can get. Nothing exciting. I’ve written articles for Men’s Health and G.Q.”
      “That’s great. Do you write anything else?”
      I looked him in the eye. “Yep. I write porn.”
      I laughed. “No. I just wanted to see how you’d react.”
      “You like to tease me.”
      “Oh, baby. You have not seen teasing yet.”
      He grinned. Then he said, “Do you have it bad, Jack?”
      Holy fuck, he could play this game too. “I think you know.”
      He shook his head. “I don’t know anything.” He looked around as if someone might hear him. “For all I know you could be playing me…”
      “I let you kiss me.”
      “Still… how do I know what your motives are? Are you really interested in me—or are you just making me crazy for the fun of it?”
      I grinned and immediately respected him for calling me on it. I leaned forward. “Are you having fun?”
      He nodded.
      “Then, what’s the problem?”
      He stared at me. Then he reached under the table, took my hand gently from where it lay on my thigh, and put it against the front of his jeans.
      Holy. Fuck. I instinctively grabbed him. He gasped. His cock under the thick denim felt so huge and hard in my hand that my own pulsed and strained against my jeans.
      “That…” he said, looking at me pleadingly, “…is the problem.”
      I rubbed my hand reverently over his length. “Well, that’s a really big, I mean, a fucking huge, problem.” I swallowed the saliva that had pooled in my mouth.

~ From Chapter Two, The Crush

Friday, January 25, 2013

Merry Christmas

     He didn’t say anything.  I felt the mattress shift to my side.  I could sense his nearness.  The familiar scent of him made me dizzy.   I felt his warm breath on my skin.  Goosebumps.  My cock throbbed.
     “Michael …”
     His lips pressed gently to my forehead, then to my ear. 
     “I want to give you an early Christmas gift.”
     I panted, organizing my thoughts.  “You got me something already?”
     He kissed my shoulder.  “Two things, actually.  And they’re for both of us.”
     “Okay,” I said, very excited, like a kid at Christmas.  Oh, wait.  It is Christmas.  And I’m pretty much a kid most of the time.
     Michael got up and moved away.  I heard him open a drawer.  I knew it was his ‘toy’ drawer.  I couldn’t help the little moan that escaped me.  Michael had a small collection of sex toys that seemed to get a little bigger every week.  He had some things in that drawer that initially scared the crap out of me, until I tried them.  Now, I’m a convert.
     “What did you get?”  I said, my voice pitched high with anticipation.
     “Shhh.  Quiet now,” he said, very softly.
     Suddenly, I felt the strands of some soft material gliding along the skin of my back.  The breath whooshed out of me.  I knew what it was.
     “Flogger?”  I asked breathlessly.
     The strands slid over my buttocks and down my thighs.  It felt so good.
     “Rubber,” Michael said, and suddenly the softness was gone.  A sharp stinging strike glanced off my left buttock.
     “Oh,” I said.
     “Do you like it?” 
     He flicked the rubber strands against my bottom again.  It stung, but not too badly—just enough to make me pay attention.  My cock was definitely paying attention.  “Oh yeah…”
     “Me too.  Merry Christmas, Jack.”

~ From Holiday Matinée, part of the MLR Press Christmas Event, 2011.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Interview with Pup Steel

I am so pleased to welcome Pup Steel to the blog. Pup Steel is a young man of only twenty, but his expressive thoughts on the lifestyle he has chosen demonstrate an intelligence and maturity beyond his years.

How would you describe yourself to someone who has never met you?

Usually, when speaking to someone new, I try my best to express my passions, hobbies, and tendencies. I love people and hold strict moral codes for myself. One of these is to never be something I'm not. I tell people who are "interested" in me about my enrollment with the leather/rubber community and if they want to know more, they will ask about it. I'm always respectful to everyone's views and fetishes but won't change my lifestyle for someone else.

Is being a leather/rubber pup a big part of your self-identification?

I'm well into the pup scene but I can't say if I prefer rubber or leather gear yet. I earn my leather and that's what I wear for now, but I have a strange attraction to rubber. I love how its tight look defines the body...I'm off subject...The pup life is a part of me. I try to do well to reflect it in everyday life. I wear my tag proudly. I have caught myself wagging before but I'm trying not to do that.

My father recently told me to take my tag off because he didn't like it. I was quick to tell him no and stand up for my "style".

What, specifically, do you get out of this lifestyle/pastime?

Being a pup to me is a way to express happiness and love, to break out of my shell and entertain people, make them smile. I have to be honest, the love between a sub and a Dom is a passion I love the most - it's a happiness I can't describe.

Is the sexual component and integral part of it? Or is the submission/Dominance aspect more important?

The sex is fun :) It plays a small part of the relationship I search for, but I believe sex is an important part of bonding. It shouldn't be what makes the first impression - it should be the adventure and passion that develops and keeps you fluttering inside. The big thing for me is the idea of one giving themselves to you (or to him/her) knowing that they will take advantage of this to love you back in the most passionate of ways.

Is there a breed of dog that you would identify with as your own?

I actually relate to the Rhodesian Ridgeback but also the German Shephard. The Ridgeback can be hard to train. A very proud dog bred to actually hunt lions in Africa, it has mostly upper body strength and a red tinted coat. The coat also goes up the spine against the grain, and I love light, gliding fingers going up my back ^_^. People say I look like a German Shephard though, so I'd say I'm a mixed breed if I had to identify with one.

Is there a large pup community where you live? How does this affect your ability to enjoy your pup side?

There isn't really a community of anyone where I live. It's really difficult to be myself out here, period. I live in a discriminatory area, been through alot, but travel alot as well. The brief moments I get to be around such an amazing group of people help me fight to stay true to myself here. Maybe one day I will be in a more accepting community, but it won't stop me from caring about the people here still. I pray one day my parents will love me for who I am and be proud of what I have already done for my community.

Pup Steel taking a doggie nap


I really hope so too, Pup Steel.

Thank you so much for agreeing to be interviewed and for being so open about yourself and your hopes for the future.


Handsome Pony

Found this today.  LOVE.  I would like to take him out for a ride...


I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my hands over his firm chest, down across his taut abdomen. I ran my fingers through the slightly thicker hair that led in a tantalizing trail toward his groin. Then I slid my hand around and grabbed his jean-covered ass, pulling him against me. He groaned and kissed me harder. I kissed him back and felt his hands slide under my t-shirt. They quickly found my nipples, which hardened and peaked under his fingers. He squeezed and pinched them gently, making me groan into his mouth. I pulled away and whipped my shirt off over my head, then went back to kissing him. I couldn’t fucking stop it was so good. It was like we were both slaves to this other force. This pull between us was so intense it threatened to obliterate our individual selves and create another being. That was what scared me. But I’d let him in and given myself up to it now.  There was no going back.

I reached for his jeans and started working on his flies. Just like in the bar, he helped me. Soon his enormous cock was in my shaking hands. He moaned into my mouth as I stroked him gently, reverently. I took my time, getting to know every curve and ridge and pulsing vein. And I really needed both my hands because he was so big. When I satisfied my curiosity, I reached down, cupping his balls, and ran the fingers of my other hand through the soft curly hair at the base of his cock.

He pulled his mouth away from mine. He buried his face against my neck, groaning and cursing quietly.

“Take off your pants. And your shirt.” I let go of him.

He rolled onto his back and got out of his jeans as I did the same. He shrugged out of his shirt. He pulled me back to him as soon as we were both naked. We pressed against each other, our bodies aligned and our cocks rubbing together. It felt fucking incredible. My arm slid under his neck and curled around his broad shoulder, pulling him against me. He buried his face in my neck again. His hands on my ass pressed my groin firmly against his. The feel of our cocks, hard and wet, sliding together, sent me to the fucking moon.

Then I felt Michael’s hand slip between us. He wrapped it around our cocks and held them together as we moved. Heaven.

“Oh, fuck…” I moaned. I found his mouth with mine, kissing him desperately as the pleasure built.

Michael gasped and whimpered, rubbing his huge hard cock against mine. He thrust into me. I pushed back, a trembling counterpoint to his desperate motions.

“Oh… fuck… fuck…” I groaned. I came, mewling into his mouth and letting myself fly apart. He grunted. As the waves of pleasure pulsed through me I felt his cock spasm. He cried out my name as he climaxed. Wetness and heat and quivering flesh surrounded me. I couldn’t tell what was him and what was me for a long, long time.

~ From Chapter Three, The Crush

Wednesday, January 23, 2013


I tried to keep my eyes off Sebastian as he removed his clothes, but it was difficult. I glanced at James. He watched us with an impenetrable expression as his eyes roamed over us.

When we'd finished and had placed our folded clothes neatly on top of the hamper as instructed, he spoke again.
“In the shower, please. I want you to clean each other and I want it to be thorough. That means behind the ears and in the crack. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir,” we said. We stepped into the shower. It was only after I'd turned on my showerhead and turned around that I got a good look at Sebastian. If we were in a cartoon there'd be bombs going off in the balloon over my head. Jesus fucking Christ. If he wasn't the hottest thing I'd ever seen. I mean, ever.
He was facing the other way and had tilted his head forward under the water to let it soak his hair. The warm rivulets ran over his defined muscles and smooth skin, down his long legs and into the drain at his beautiful naked feet.
I glanced at James. He sat there, watching us intently with a little hint of a smile on his face. I turned back to Sebastian, picking up the body wash.
“You can talk to each other,” James said, “but only about the task at hand, please.”
“Turn around,” I said to Sebastian.
Sebastian turned his head and smiled, twisting under the hot water until he stood before me in all his glory. He shook the water out of his eyes. We stared at each other for a long moment, during which we seemed to communicate our mutual pleasure at what was occurring.
“Get on with it,” James said sternly.
I broke from that blue-eyed gaze and poured some body wash into my hand. For the next fifteen minutes I soaped and lathered that beautiful boy from top to bottom, not missing a spot,  delighting in his soft smiles and grunts of pleasure from my gentle ministrations. Afterwards, he did the same to me. This reciprocal bathing resulted in some pretty obvious signs of arousal by the time we'd finished. Our dicks looked like a matching set, although I noticed that Sebastian's stood somewhat thicker and longer than my own.
We glanced at James. He had crossed one of his long legs over the other and watched us with a lackadaisical air that belied the bulge we could both see tenting the front of his pants.

~ From Chapter Four, Beyond The Edge

Tuesday, January 22, 2013


He grabbed one of my wrists again, releasing my lips, and spun me around. Then he slapped my ass so hard I yelped. Fuck it was hot.

“Bedroom. Now.” The authority in his voice gave me chills. Good ones.

I walked backwards in front of him, my ass still smarting, my cock leaking. “What are you going to do to me?” I panted, using the wall for guidance as I moved backward down the hall. The look in his eyes made me feel like an animal being hunted. But he wasn’t going to kill me when he caught me; he was going to fuck me. I wanted to hear him say it.

“What do you think?” he grinned wickedly as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

“I think you’re gonna fuck me with that enormous cock of yours. I hope you’ve got lots of lube.”

“I stocked up.”

“Fuck.” I backed through the bedroom door. “I want you to use your handcuffs…”

He hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, backing up until I felt the bed behind me. “Michael, your cock is fucking huge. If you handcuff me, I can’t run away. I’ll have to take it…” I let the corner of my mouth quirk up, so he knew I was joking. Kind of. I was a bit scared of his cock; I’d never had a cock that big inside me. But I was as eager as I was scared.

I turned on one of the lamps beside the bed. It cast a warm glow over the room. He shrugged out of his shirt and started unbuttoning his jeans. I held my breath as his enormous dick came into view. He wasn’t wearing underwear either. It bobbed in front of him as he stepped out of his jeans. I grabbed my own cock and pumped it a few times, staring fixedly at him. “Jesus, I think it’s bigger than it was yesterday.”

He looked down at himself and up at me. “I’m sure you can handle it.”

I gulped. “Get the damn handcuffs and lock the fucking door.” 

~ From Chapter Five of The Crush

Monday, January 21, 2013

Seaside Rendezvous

“So?  What do you think?” Darrin asked, his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it affectionately.  I gazed around the large room.  It was tidy and appeared fairly clean, to my surprise.  The painted floorboards were chipped and broken in places but a woven matt had been put down.  A battered old sofa stood against one wall, beneath a boarded up window.  I could see the rolling surf in the distance through an old glass window on the other wall.  Sam cranked it open.  The tattered grey curtains billowed in the ocean breeze.  In the middle of the floor lay a large futon mattress, covered in fresh, new white sheets.  Nearby, variously sized pillar candles stood at intervals along the floor.

“What the heck goes on here, séances?” I asked, confused and impressed at the same time.  For an abandoned seaside cottage, it looked pretty … cozy.

“No séances,” Darrin said.  “Although I think I’ve seen the face of God a few times.”  He looked at Sam, who gave him a wink and started peeling off his clothes.  I glanced back and forth between them.

“What’s … um … What exactly is happening here?” I asked breathlessly, although I was beginning to comprehend.  Of course, that meant that all the blood rushed from my brain to my cock, so I was a little behind.  Perhaps I wasn’t the third wheel after all.  They seemed to want me here.

Darrin grinned as he stepped out of his wet shoes, socks and shorts.  His big cock, hard and intimidating, stood forth, pointing right at me as he straightened up.  I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

“Here.”  Sam shoved an open bottle of coke at me as he guzzled one of his own.  Then he passed his to Darrin, who finished it off.  I drank mine down as fast as I could and watched Sam take his wet clothes off.

“What do you want to happen, Marco?” Darrin asked.   I tore my eyes away from Sam.  Darrin locked eyes with me as he threw his empty bottle into the corner. 

I felt Sam’s hands slide around my waist.  I gasped as he moved his lithe, naked body up against me.  His erection pressed, insistent, against my buttocks.

I dropped the empty coke bottle.  It made a loud clank as it hit the floorboards and rolled away.  I couldn’t help a moan escaping me.  Hail Mary full of grace.  My brain spun, my emotions scattered all over the place, and my body eagerly adjusted to the situation.

My eyes drifted to Darrin’s cock again as he slowly approached.  I watched as his finger slipped under the waistband of my shorts and boxers.  He pulled the elastics toward him and peeked in.  He made a little noise in his throat.  Sam moaned in my ear and pressed his dick more firmly against me.

“I knew it,” Darrin murmured.  Our eyes met as a blush crept up my cheeks.

~ From The Beach House, available to read in full here.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Folsom Puppy Pit

A friend posted links to some pretty interesting videos in a private Facebook group to which I belong. I thought I would share them here.

San Francisco's Folsom Street Fetish Fair is a popular annual event.

With over 400,000 people in attendance covering 13 city blocks, the fair is the largest leather/fetish event in the world, and the 3rd largest, single-day outdoor event in California.

~ From the Folsom Street Fair Website

Living, as I do, in a very conservative Canadian city, it would be absolutely mindblowing to attend this incredible festival. So many people celebrating diversity and kink and the pursuit of pleasure! Maybe someday I'll have the opportunity to be a part of it.

Anyway, since I have a thing for gay leather pups, I wanted to share these incredible videos here for anyone who wants a bit more insight into this pastime/lifestyle. For those new to viewing leather pups in action, please keep in mind that, no matter how strange it may first appear, these harmless activities are giving much pleasure and enjoyment to the people engaging in them. Is this behaviour harming anyone? I don't think so.

For me, it is fascinating to see how deep into pup/dog space these men seem to get during their time in the pit. They truly access a primal, animal headspace that is so far from our human mindset, with all its anxieties and complex thought processes. I can understand the desire for some to separate from the self-conscious and indulge in the instinctive.

The following videos are definitely NSFW (Not Safe For Work) but they are truly MSFE (Must See For Education)!

Video One

Video Two

For those unfamiliar with the gear, the naked pup is wearing a cock cage and insertable tail. Cock cages are designed to enforce chastity on the wearer at the whim of his/her Master/Owner. They are not painful as long as the penis remains in a flaccid state.

Blue Boxers

I followed him and watched as he started stripping in front of the chaise, which was where we had left it yesterday. Okay, I like where this is going. He whipped his shirt off and bent to untie his boots.

“Do you think I look good enough to be an underwear model?” He pulled off his boots and socks and unbuttoned his jeans.

“You don’t wear underwear…” I said, staring at him, my dick turning to steel.

He grinned. “I did today.” He pushed his jeans down and stepped out of them. Sure enough, he was wearing a pair of grey and blue horizontally striped boxer briefs. They hugged his hips and outlined the swell of his erect cock beautifully.

“Jesus Christ,” I breathed. If I’d thought he was good looking in his clothes, he was a fucking God without them in just the boxers. “And you’re expecting me to take pictures?” I said doubtfully.

He winked at me. He sat on the edge of the chaise, putting his boots back on but leaving them untied. “Oh, come on, Martin. I can’t wait to see what you can do with this.” He leaned back and rubbed himself through the boxers. “Trust me, you’ll be generously rewarded…”

I gulped. “You’re trying to kill me.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I want you very much alive.” He leaned back into the position from yesterday and put a boot-clad foot up on the seat. “I just enjoy driving you crazy.”

~ From Chapter Three, Exposure