This hit home for me…

I came across that explanation on a You Tube video, presumably left there for people unable to comprehend the concept of tea being a meal and it tickled my fancy, so now it is a title for a post on my blog.

You thought that was all you were going to get, didn’t you? Silly turnips! Here is more story.

With your pants destroyed, you spontaneously channel your inner outraged fashionista. “You look like you stepped out of a bad BDSM party,” you snark.

The guard looks at you darkly and you note with some consternation that the very sharp blade is still flashing preciously close to your intimate delicates. Once again, you have spoken too rashly. When oh when will you learn not to mouth off?

“I beg your pardon?” She seems confused by what you’ve said. An opportunity has presented itself. Mustering all your brainpower, you take the chance to back-peddle quickly.
(more…)

You asked for a podcast, so I made one. Because I am nothing if not accommodating. This one is about something that affects us all, what makes us secretive shadowy ninjas in our own lives. Because… we are all.. Kinksters in the Kloset!

Kinksters in the Kloset

Behold, the crossdressing Night Elf!

Where have I been lately? Well, in addition to finishing the Finn series, I’ve also completed another chapter of Ada’s Vengeance for Bethany’s Woodshed. You can read the first chapter here if you’d like.

In addition to that, I’ve also been skinning crazed dragonkin and dressing burly night elves in pretty red dresses in Azeroth. Fuck yes.

And back to our choose your own spanking story, where you’ve all managed to get yourselves into quite a bit of trouble. Who would have thunk such a thing?

You ignore the guard’s warning like you’ve ignored almost every other good piece of advice you’ve ever been given in your life and instead of being quiet as she suggested, you start kicking up one hell of a fuss, kicking, screaming, banging on the metal door with some spare manacles that happen to be fastened to the wall. You’re making so much noise, you don’t even hear it when the door slams open, but you sure feel it when you’re grabbed by the front of your hooded jersey and lifted clean off the floor by the guard, whose expression is now nothing short of fierce.

“I warned you,” she growls through clenched teeth.

You struggle in her grip, but it is futile. She is far, far stronger than you and she wastes no time in tossing you onto the thin cot you woke up on and manhandling you in a most shameful way. It soon becomes clear that she’s trying to pull your pants down, but the tight button fly and zipper seem to flummox her.
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As far as I can tell, the readers of Sappho’s Brats spend their days ripping off road signs and bouncing in and out of the cells like kangaroos on crystal meth, so I’ve taken the liberty of installing a pay phone in the lobby so you can call your parole officers.

What have I been up to whilst you’ve all be undermining society as we know it? I finished the final Finn the Devourer e-book, which can be found sometime this month on Spanking Romance, or, if things go as intended, purchase around Halloween with the first two novellas as a print book published by Blushing Publications. I’ll keep you informed on that, and where the cops are as further information comes to hand.

So, without further ado, more story for the taking.

At the news you’re going to spend the next five years laboring in some fashion, you burst into tears. What was the point of applying for all those grants and enrolling in Basket-Weaving 101 if you were just going to end up laboring like everybody else? The idea of working for the next five years fills you with such horror that your shoulders shake as your tears roll down your cheeks and you hiccup with pitiful half-sobs.

“But, I didn’t do anything!” you cry.

The guard observes you impassively. “The Queen says otherwise and the Queen does not lie.”
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