How To Catch a Cowgirl | Lesbian Western, PT 4: A Wild Reputation

“I bet,” Anna smiled back. Tamsan seemed knowledgeable in all the right ways. Anna sipped her drink and enjoyed the silence. “You seem different.”

“Different from…”

“The women I’ve dated before. I mean… uh… not that we’re necessarily on a date now, just… uh…” Anna blushed at the verbal hole she’d stumbled into.

Tamsan took a swig of her beer and grinned around the bottle neck, apparently enjoying Anna’s stammering. “Relax,” she said when she lowered the bottle. “I know what you mean.”

“Yeah… uh,” Anna gulped. “So I guess you could say I haven’t had the best of luck.”
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How To Catch a Cowgirl | Lesbian Western, PT 3: Watering Hole

“There,” Tamsan said. “Now we take this wire…”

“Do you work around here? Are you from…”

“The Cluskys hired me this past summer,” Tamsan said. “I’m a ranch hand. Now, can you pay attention here?”

“And you know who I am.”

“Everybody knows who you are. A city girl who ain’t got no business on a ranch, and a lesbian besides,” Tamsan said, mimicking the local drawling accent.

“That’s about right,” Anna said, shrugging. “I’m guessing you disapprove too.”

“You need to learn how to take care of your land and your livestock, aside from that, I’m thrilled you’re here. We need a few more of our kind about the place.”

“Women?”

“Lesbians.”

Anna grinned. Her luck was turning. Usually when she got a crush on someone impossibly hot they turned out to be straight.
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How To Catch a Cowgirl | Lesbian Western, PT 2: Learning Lessons

They were slowly nearing the fence line where the wires were curled away from the posts. The steers wandered through with complete disinterest, leaving only the matter of repairs to deal with.

“Someone cut these,” Tamsan frowned as she dismounted

“Well I’m guessing the cows didn’t chew their way through,” Anna said, distracted by the cute rear in tight jeans displayed before her as Tamsan bent over. As if sensing Anna’s stare, Tamsan looked over her shoulder.

“Sarcastic little thing aren’t you?”

Anna didn’t consider herself a little thing at all, though Tamsan was taller and bigger than her. Anna was of average weight and height. Tamsan was probably a good foot taller than her with proportionate weight – and some decent musculature thrown in for good measure if the glutes were anything to go by. Continue reading

How To Catch a Cowgirl | Lesbian Western, PT 1: Cows Are Brats

lesbian cowgirl erotica How To Catch A Cowgirl, an erotic western lesbian spanking story was originally published a couple years ago, but is now out of digital print, which means you can’t buy it online. (As pointed out by pippin of the indispensable Sapphic Kink.) Which means I’m free to share it here as a series which you can enjoy and follow in your own time and on your own terms.

As chance would have it, it’s a Monday today in much of the world, so I’ll post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, which seems reasonable. Or pretty close to those days anyway.

How To Catch A Cowgirl

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Anna swore and ran her hand through her short cropped blonde hair. Her freckled nose drew up in irritation as she squinted at a dozen or so cow shaped objects. She had been out on the range doing a little riding when she realized that there was a bloody great hole in the fence and no cattle where cattle should definitely be. A bunch of beasts bearing the Sun Ranch brand did seem to be enjoying themselves in the Clusky’s territory though. Brats.

“Come on, Tex,” she said, swinging herself into the saddle of the paint horse who had belonged to her late father. “Let’s go see if we can’t get ’em in.”

Tex nickered and swayed back and forth, stepping from side to side and tossing his head.

“Please,” Anna begged. “Can we not do this now?”

The horse swung around and looked in completely the wrong direction. He wanted to go home. She tugged at the reins, but succeeded only in making him prance back and forth in place.

“Tex!” She growled his name to little avail. After a good minute’s struggle, she managed to get the animal pointing in the right direction. A little application of leg sent him shooting forward like a bullet. Caught off guard by the sudden burst of speed, Anna dropped the reins and clung to his mane instead.
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Consequences and climaxes… *new* Lesbia update!

It has admittedly been a while since I posted in the Lesbia series, but it is far from dead. Quietness should never be mistaken for absence…

“Do you still believe you are my equal?”

Ayla smiled gently down at Kira’s naked sweat drenched body. The warrior was spread-eagled on the bed, her loins inflamed and still slick with wetness from Ayla’s attentions. The witch was equally nude, but far more composed, her thighs pressed together one atop the other, her ample breasts marked red here and there by passionate kisses. She reclined elegantly at the head of the bed, golden hair draped across her neck and shoulders, green eyes half closed in an expression of cat like satiety as she watched the warrior recover.

“Mmmnnn…”

Ayla reached out and drew her fingernails gently over the rise of Kira’s breasts. “Hmm?”

Click here to read more of this new Lesbia update…

Classic Sapphic Spanking: A Young Rogue Is Disciplined

This is an excerpt from one of the very first F/F series I wrote over six years ago, so please forgive any early oddities of formatting, grammar or general putting together of words. The book was called ‘Rogue the Serpent’ and was a fantasy story which told the tale of a young woman named Rogue who possesses the power to become a serpent and is married off by her father to a fine lord. Rogue is not interested in the lord, and attempts to flee his custody, but soon finds herself not only captured but under the disciplinary care of a lady named Mari. This excerpt begins after her initial capture…

“I will not cage you Rogue, you are too precious for that.”

“Precious? How so?” I was confused.

“You are a lady of the Serpent. One in a million. Rogue, you are a rare creature and I will have you for my own, but I will not be unkind, nor cage you away unless you force me to do so.”

In spite of myself, I felt a little pleased at his words. Drexler was the first man to ever appreciate my talents rather than fear them.

I looked up under my eyelashes at him. “And what the soldiers were saying, of your treatment of women? Will you attempt such foolishness with me?”

He laughed again. He seemed amused by me. “I will treat you as you deserve to be treated,” he said. His hand descended upon my lower back and he ushered me into the road, where he pursed his lips and emitted a piercing whistle. In a moment or two, the sound of horse hooves could be heard as a black carriage slid up out of the night’s shadows.

“Now, my lady, will you come to your new home, or would you rather run about in the wilderness?” He said the words as if I had a choice, but I knew that I truly had no choice. He had come for me, he had never left my side. I climbed into the carriage without a word and curled up in a corner, watching him silently.
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Spanking Flashback :Naughty Brats Squabble and Get Spanked

I’ve been re-reading the first Lesbia book lately, Over Witch’s Knee. It’s been quite a while since it was published, which means reading it again is a bit like reading it for the first time in some respects. I’d forgotten just how non-fantasy so much of the dialog is for a fantasy book, and just how naughty the brats really were! I came across this scene between heroine Atrocious and the robber Rogette and of course, Ayla the Witch and Kira the warrior. I think you’ll enjoy becoming re-acquainted with them too, or this will be a pleasure if its your first time meeting these ladies 🙂

*****

“I’ve been laid a lot of times,” Atrocious scowled. “I have!” She exclaimed a second time when she realized that everyone was looking at her with expressions of amusement and pity. “I have… I have fucked a lot of ladies.”

“Oh stop it,” Ayla said. “You must stop being so petulant, you really must. Everybody is trying to help you, Atrocious.”

“Then leave,” Atrocious said, doing her best to hide welling tears of frustration and embarrassment. “If I’m so horrible, you can all just leave. I never asked you to help me.”

Ayla took a deep breath and looked skyward for patience. “It’s not about whether you asked or not, it’s about being grateful for the sacrifices people made for you. It’s about acting like something other than a spoiled brat.”

“I am grateful!” Atrocious protested.

“Are you? Have you even thanked Kira? Or have you been too busy alternately cowering away from her then abusing her?”

There was no defense to the charges Ayla was laying, so Atrocious remained silent under the continuing onslaught.

“Mark my words,” Ayla said, her eyes so narrow they were merely slits in her beautiful face. “If she had not found you in my care, you would no longer be in one piece. You don’t deserve to be.”

Atrocious responded with defensive nonsense. “What do you want? You want me to hack my arm off?”

“What I want,” Ayla said in a hiss. “Is for you to act like a useful member of this group and not like a self centered little monster.”
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The Betrayal of Ayla Cover Reveal!

Is it too soon to do a cover reveal for the next Lesbia book? I’m not actually expecting to have this out for a month or two at least, but I have the cover ready (as well as having revamped the cover for Clockwork Goddess) and that’s all very exciting for me, and perhaps for you, if you have an interest in all this.

Yesterday’s excerpt was probably a bit darker in tone than anyone was expecting, and yes, the drama is amplified in the next installment, but it’s not all unexpected assassinations and unpleasant weather. There will also be hotness and niceness and probably cake.

Without further ado, hit the ‘continue reading’ button to see the cover for the fourth Lesbia book!

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La Mort et La Mere | An Interlude In Lesbia

If you love Lesbia, you might enjoy reading some of what I’ve been working on for the next book, which will focus on Ayla. I would say more, but that would just get in the way of the actual story and nobody needs that.

Alone in a little cottage in the middle of a very dark forest, Ayla the witch stared into the flames, her beautiful green eyes reflecting the light of the fire as she hummed a little birthday song to herself.

“Five hundred years,” she mused to herself. “Five hundred years and so many more to go.”

The truth was she was not sure that it was her five hundredth birthday. The years had long ago begun to run into one another. She had started counting in decades, then in centuries, but still they blended. Five hundred was a good round number, so she celebrated that. She had celebrated it numerous times before, with one seven hundredth birthday thrown in for good measure somewhere along the line.

Age did not seem to touch her, aside from making her hair a lighter shade of pale gold. Long strands fell to her waist, the bulk of it tied back behind her head in a long ponytail, a few escaped locks draping over her shoulder. Her gray robe was snug about her waist and loose about her breasts, their ample swelling warmed by the heat of the fire. Continue reading

Madame Angeline Punishes Her Brat Once More…

As you seemed to enjoy Madame Angeline so very much, I thought I might extend her disciplinary adventures a little more…

Usually a good disciplinary session with a deserving lady would sate Madame Angeline’s appetites for a long while. Weeks, perhaps even months. However a mere three days after her visit to Penitent’s Lane, Philippa would not leave her thoughts.

Angeline decided to go shopping to take her mind off her fascination. She enjoyed dressing fashionably and a new dress was a good as a new home, she sometimes thought. Slipping into flattering fabric could change her mood immediately. So thinking, Angeline drove to her favorite boutique where she was welcomed warmly by the shop’s assistants, given a glass of champagne and liberally festooned with fine gowns.

Many times she twirled before the mirror, seeing herself in one light and then another while the assistants heaped praise upon her.

“How beautiful your figure is, Madame Angeline.”

“How long your legs are, Madame Angeline.”

“Your eyes are so beautiful in that color, Madame Angeline.”
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Madame Angeline Spanks Her Brat…

It’s been a long time since my last post here, so I’ve written a rather long short lesbian spanking story off the cuff this evening for you to enjoy, dear readers. It is the tale of a dominant lady named Angeline who visits a London establishment providing submissive ladies to those who wish to discipline them, and a little brat named Philippa who goads the fine lady into more than just a spanking… I wrote this in an hour or so, it starts somewhat in the middle, and it won’t win any literary prizes, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 😉

“Welcome to Penitent’s Lane,” Madame Madame, lady of the house said, her smile warm with greeting as she ushered the fine lady into her establishment. “How may I help you, Madame Angeline?”

“I’m looking for the biggest brat you have,” Angeline said without bothering to pause for niceties. “I’m in the mood to give a deserving bottom a good, long, hard spanking, and I need a real brat for that purpose.”

“Of course, Madame Angeline,” the lady of the house simpered as she ushered her illustrious guest into the elegant foyer. “We have gathered all available girls for you.”

Madame Angeline looked down the line of ladies presented in a row at the bottom of a grand staircase. There were a great many women ranging in age from their late teens to their late fifties. Some wore rings in their noses, some wore sneers on their lips, others seemed quite polite and well composed, but none caught her attention. It was most frustrating, for her palm was veritably itching with the need to spank a deserving female bottom red.

“What sort of punishment were you thinking of giving?” The lady of the house interjected by way of trying to make the process a little easier.

“An over the knee hand spanking,” Angeline replied. She was a handsome woman with graying streaks in her hair and the air of an old fashioned school marm caught in a modern age. Her hair was tied back in an elegant chignon, dark brows tapering over brilliant steel eyes. Her face was full of character, a pronounced chin and jutting nose which might have made her less appealing to those who look for softness in a lady, but Angeline had a different kind of beauty, the kind which made those attuned to such things quiver at the knees. Continue reading