Friday, June 1, 2012


~Chapter 55~
PUBLIC/Journal Entry Four
January 6, 2012

Master's assignment: Reflect on our public scene

I'll admit it. I was nervous.
Trusting my Master when it's just the two of us at home is becoming easier with each scene, though don't think I haven't noticed Master raising the stakes with every encounter. Sure, there's always going to be that element of the unknown in our play, but deep down, I trust that my physical and emotional boundaries will always be respected. And that only enhances my engagement in the scene. If Master were to push too hard, I know I'd safe word, and the behavior would cease. No one but the two of us would be the wiser.
Not so once we stepped into Wave last night as Dom and sub. There were witnesses. In fact, that's pretty much the whole point, the added element of taboo and intrigue. So Master had to recalibrate to just the right threshold to ramp up the humiliation factor without crossing the line, and I had to trust that much more that he wouldn't let any emotional harm come to me.
At first, I balked. Not consciously, but my survival instincts kicked in. “Don't let that waitress think you're some kind of mouse who can't think for herself. She's gonna think you're off if you don't pick up your menu and answer her questions without asking permission. Honey mustard is fattening!”
But then, everything changed when she started grinding that pepper over my salad. I guess you could say I donned my sub-colored glasses and I started to view the whole situation differently. I had no choices to make and no responsibility to anyone but you, Master.
The waitress wants to judge me? Fine.
You want me to have pepper? Fine.
This is your situation to manage, and I hand it over to you on a silver charger plate. I trust you, and you're the only one I need to please, impress, or satisfy.
But Master didn't make it easy on me this time, letting me slip into some preordained role; Christmas elf, dinner servant, lab experiment. No, I had to be entirely me, in my work attire, no less. And that was the trickiest of all, finding my sub space inside my head when all the physical clues could just as easily lead me to conclude that I'm out to dinner with my boyfriend.
But I will continue to rise to your challenges, Master. And hopefully, my five errors will turn into four next time, then two, then none. Hmm, is that possible? Or even desirable? Or will you just continue to raise that bar?
With deepest gratitude for you, Master,
~your princess
Having finished the last of my software updates, I treat myself to a long walk to Haru and pick up some spicy tuna and shrimp tempura maki for lunch. Happily settled back at my desk, I'm careful not to let any of the spicy filling leak onto my Blackberry screen as I scroll through my submissive's latest posting. She knows she did well at the restaurant, despite her few transgressions, and this journal entry reads as though her remaining fears were soothed, along with the sting of the paddle, during our after-care session.
Sliding the thin sliver of ginger over the last piece of sushi, I marvel at her final musings. She, who had zero experience in this lifestyle beyond her largely repressed fantasies, intuits so accurately where things will be heading. She's gone from wearing a velvet bowtie and jingle bells to a chain link leash and nipple clamps in less than two weeks, and the timeline currently points us straight toward eternity, with an infinite realm of possibilities between now and then.
Yes, of course, I will constantly raise the bar with new challenges both physical and emotional. And you, my princess, will continue to rise to the occasion. At the same time, I'm quite sure you'll provide me with some delicious opportunities for correction.
Human nature will dictate that Isabella pretend to be disappointed or even annoyed at my confirming this reality when we process this entry together, but deep down, she's every bit as giddy as I am to know that we have plenty of new ground to cover together. Speaking of which… I click through to the tracking link for my latest package of goodies and note with glee that my new supplies will arrive in plenty of time for our weekend overnight scene. Bars will most definitely be raised!
And that reminds me, I have a homework assignment for my submissive. I scroll through the listed sites until I find the one I trust to give it to her straight without sending her into a terrified tailspin. I copy the link and paste it into an email addressed to Isabella's personal account, with the subject line: Do not open at work.
Rosalie summons me just after I send the message. "Edward, have a minute?"
"Sure," I answer, swiftly clearing away my lunch, stowing my Blackberry and wiping the last of the wasabi off my fingers.
I follow Rosalie back to her office and take my usual place while she slips into her leather seat. "So…" she begins, a smile reaching across her face, "the big boys are interested in your plan."
"Good deal," I answer, my own grin matching hers. "What's next?"
"Well, you and I will be presenting at next week's management meeting. Got a suit?" she teases.
"I suppose I can dig something out of mothballs. Do we need to prepare a Powerpoint?"
"No, it's not that formal. You strut your stuff, they'll ask some questions, I'll back you up."
"My stuff?" I chuckle, so completely taken off balance by her uncharacteristic levity. "Which stuff is that?"
Rosalie looks me directly in the eye for a long moment, and I get the distinct feeling she is thinking inappropriate thoughts. Following the odd exchange, she turns her screen so we can both see. "I've highlighted the sections that were specifically mentioned and noted any feedback in the review margins. I'll pass this back to you. Take a look at where their interest and concerns lie, and build your case."
"How much of my time can I expect to allot to this project? So I know how to build my case," I clarify.
Rosalie crosses her arms over her chest. "How many hours a week do you need to do your job now?"
I stare back into those impassive icy eyes. Any number fewer than forty is an admission that I'm not using my time effectively, and I could be doing more. Then again, if I claim to need all my time just to get my regular job done, I'm basically saying I have no time for this project.
It's butt-sniffing time.
I take a gamble on Rosalie. "Twenty-five to thirty to be honest, if some gets off-loaded to Emmett. He'll grumble a bit, but—"
"I’ll handle Emmett," she says dismissively. "You think you can set aside a solid fifteen hours a week for this?" My number doesn't seem to rankle or surprise her in the least.
"Good. Then build a plan where you work it up gradually to one-third of your time as it catches fire within the organization. So long as you're available for coding and any trouble-shooting that Emmett can't handle, your time is your own to manage."
"Okay." I can barely contain my smile.
When Rosalie repeats, "Okay," effectively shooing me away, she wears a knowing grin.
"Bella, I can't tell you how sorry I am that Garrett acted like a gigantic clod at dinner the other night."
"Ange, it's not your fault. I understand. He's Jas—"
"No. Don't make excuses for him. Garrett's in the doghouse. Big time!"
Seems my mild-mannered friend hit her limit with her boyfriend's obnoxious behavior. If I could see her right now, I'm sure I'd see the quiver in her upper lip. Angela is rarely tough, and when she is, it comes at a great personal cost.
I tuck my phone into the crook of my neck and reach for my wallet. "Ange, I'm sorry you're stuck in the middle. Maybe we shouldn't have attempted a double date so soon." I pass the cabbie his fare and step outside into the loud streets of Times Square.
"Where are you?"
"Oh, I'm…just running a quick errand."
Angela gasps, "Is it something dirty?" Her voice lowers on the last word, and I can picture her face, all scrunched and curious.
I smile at her vicarious interest in my exotic love life. "Why would you even ask me that?"
"Oh, sorry," she says, duly chastised. "It's just that the two of you together…I felt like I was on the set of a…" Her voice becomes suddenly hushed, "…a porno movie!"
"Angie! We weren't even sitting next to each other!"
"You didn't have to. He had you locked into his tractor beam all the way across the table." She explodes into giddy laughter. "Oh, Bella, he is so handsome! How do you stand it? I mean, not that Jas wasn't gorgeous, too, or anything, but this guy…oh…my…gawwwd!"
"Yeah," I chuckle. "It is a bit of a problem sometimes."
She gushes on, the dam bursting and all manner of previously withheld comments spewing from her lips. "I mean, those eyes! The hard body! That smile!"
I roll my eyes and smile. Yeah, I'm aware of his charms.
"Honestly, Bella, I don't know how you ever say no to him!"
"Who says I do?"
Her giggles completely take her over, and I join her in the giddiness for a couple minutes before ending our conversation. "Hey, Garrett will come around. Just give him time."
The little tiger comes back. "Time and a good swift kick in the pants…" Her voice is muffled when she finishes, "…and no sex till he straightens out!"
"You tell him, Ange," I say supportively.
"Want to have lunch next week?"
"I'm sorry, I can't. Edward's parents are coming to town on Thursday, and—"
Screech! "OHMYGOD, you're meeting his parents? Already? Wow, Bella, that is major! May-jur!"
"Gee, thanks," I sigh. "Why don't you make me a little more freaked out about it?"
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," she quickly tosses out. "You'll be great. They'll love you. I mean why wouldn't they? You two are perfect together."
"Thanks, Ange. So we'll talk after the weekend then?"
"Sure. Enjoy."
"You, too." As I end the call, I realize there won't be any joy in that house until Garrett sees the light.
I zip my phone inside my handbag and pull open the entrance to the novelty store.
TGIF. Cut out early? ~E
God yes! Lobby 5:15?
Life is good.
The weekend stretches out before us with all the promise that only a Friday can hold. A lazy night at home with my sweet, amazing girlfriend. Riley and Sean coming over for a relaxing Saturday afternoon of playoff football. An extended scene Saturday night into Sunday with my beautiful, sexy, submissive.
And the latest development at work is the chocolate frosting on my Happy Cake.
There's a voice in the back of my head warning me I may have just a wee bit too much testosterone coursing through my system as I stalk over to my girl in the corner of the lobby. Her joyful smile turns to surprise and then mild alarm as I speed up rather than slow my approach. Before she knows what's hit her, her back and hips are pinned against the concrete wall behind her. I thankfully have the wherewithal to cushion the back of her head before I crash my lips against hers. We make out like a couple of horny teenagers until we both need oxygen.
Bella's cheeks are bright pink and her hair is splayed along the wall like strings charting a world traveler's routes, tethered by hundreds of tiny map pins. I steady myself with a palm against the wall next to her face and drop my nose to her shoulder to catch my breath.
Still stunned, she finally speaks, "Well hello to you, too!"
I chuckle into her coat until I can safely lift my face. "Sorry?"
"Don't be," she chides. "I should've known when I got that message from you earlier." Then, in a playfully accusatory tone, "Have you been watching porn, Edward Cullen? Tapping into that kink-dot-com account again?"
I bring out my index finger to exaggerate my point and wave it in her face. "Never at work."
"Yes, sir," she says, a wide smile breaking across her cheeks.
I lean in close enough that I can't be overheard. "And you haven't opened my email yet, have you?"
"Of course not." Not that she would ever lie, but I'm confident by her tone that she has no idea of the content of the message. "I'd never go against your wishes like that."
Very much liking the sound of that, I respond, "But you didn't even know it was from your Master."
Her eyes flash with sudden excitement, but immediately soften. "Well what's the difference, really? If it was from…you…as my boyfriend, I'd give it just as much weight." She thinks for a minute and adds, "Of course, I might question my boyfriend about it, but now that I know…"
I spread open my hands and smile. "Now that you know."
"Soooooo, what are you in the mood for?"
I give her my best you-know-exactly-what-I'm-in-the-mood-for grin.
"For dinner, silly."
I need only lift a brow and she correctly interprets. Same answer.
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, that'll work until you get hungry about ten minutes in and we have to stop to order take out, and it won't get there for an hour because it's Friday night, then we're gonna be pulling out the Wheat Thins and grapes and—"
I kiss her again to slow down her stream of reasonable thinking. Once I have her undivided attention, I offer an idea. “Why don't we stop at the food store and get everything to make dinner tonight, tomorrow night, and whatever else we need for the whole weekend, so that we don't have to leave the apartment again until Monday morning?"
"That sounds like bliss."
I take her hand and tug her away from the wall. I can't help laughing at the way her hair crackles and flies in every direction until I smooth it down with my spare hand. She cracks me up further with her suspicious glare.
"And you haven't been hitting the Grey Goose?"
"Nope," I answer, pulling her in front of me in the revolving door compartment.
"Smoking something?" she theorizes as Domenic opens the door.
I slide in next to her and tuck her into my side.
Okay, how ridiculous is it that we're still giddy as we unload our groceries? I practically floated through my day at work, including my little secret mission at lunch. It's not easy to fly under Edward's radar.
"Why don't you mix up some drinks and set the table? I'll handle the omelets." I'm a lousy cook, but I can manage a frying pan.
"Okay, but don't forget, I want ham, cheese, mushrooms, bacon, pepper…tomatoes…"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Edward. Everything in this bag is going into your dinner."
"Don't you want to change first?" His words say one thing, but his stomach grumbled something else all through the store and into the taxi and up the elevator.
"I'm too hungry," I lie for his benefit.
"You're awesome," he replies, leaving me to whip up the omelets as directed.
His eyes light up ten minutes later as I slide the bulging package of egg and cheese and half the grocery store onto his plate. "This looks perfect," he says, setting it down at his place on the table.
"Don't wait for me. Eat it while it's hot."
He protests for half a second before tucking in. "Mmmmm," he groans, his voice carrying into the kitchen and bringing a smile to my face. "You sure you don't want half? Then we could split the second one, too."
"No thanks. I don't think my stomach could handle that."
My omelet is ready not long after, and I reach for the grape jelly. Edward's eyes bug out as I dip the knife into the jar and slather the dark blue condiment along the top of my omelet, turning everything an unappealing shade of green.
"Oh my God, what are you doing?" He looks positively horrified.
"What? Haven't you ever heard of green eggs and ham?"
"Yeah. Have you ever tried it?"
"No, Isabella. I do not like green eggs and ham. I will not eat them, Ed-I-am."
I take a big bite of my omelet and make a show of swallowing it down and licking my lips. "Delicious!"
He rolls his eyes.
"Do you happen to remember how that story ends?"
He looks at me, then back to my eggs, then back to me again. "Okay fine. Lay it on me." He opens his mouth and closes his eyes as I place a taste on his tongue.
His face is comical as it morphs from disdain and disgust to disbelief and finally pleasure. "I do! I like them, Ed-I-am!"
His lips twist into a crooked grin, and I'm hit with a rush of insight into Edward, the little boy. He's never too far from the surface anyway, except when he's in serious Dom mode, but just now, I absolutely can see that delightfully playful and clever child.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks suddenly.
Oh shit. Because I just saw your past and it may just be our future? I give my head a slight shake. "You must've given your folks quite a run for their money when you were younger."
He smiles his big Edward smile and answers, "I'm pretty sure I still do."
"How's your research going?" I ask tentatively, trying my best not to react to every cringe and twitch she makes as she studies how to ready herself for anal training. It doesn't help that her bare toe has slid up the leg of my pajama pant as we sit facing each other at opposite ends of the sofa.
Her gaze lifts over her laptop screen, giving away nothing. "It's okay."
Her impassiveness is making me anxious. I'm sure she has a million questions and fears tripping over themselves inside her.
"Well, I'm here."
She smirks. "Yes, I can see that."
"And I'm just reading about bots that are smarter than people, so if you have any questions…"
With an air of finality, she says, "Nope, I'm good, thanks. In fact, I was just finishing up and getting ready to answer my reviews," she says with a touch of pride.
"Oh yeah? Read to me?" My book slides to the side as I give her my complete attention.
She scrolls a bit till she finds what she wants, then reads aloud, "This is from HEA five from a reader named Whiti: I like that Princess has made her decision, the battle of vanilla versus chocolate is over, the Dark Prince is the chosen one. Even through the humiliation of her half nakedness, she is dripping with desire, finally taking what she longs for, begging her master, proving her devotion. Interesting that he'll allow her to be intimate with him, but will not touch her until she is free from her ‘prince.’ I guess this ultimately will bring her final decision to fruition as she craves his touch so much that she'll rectify her situation immediately."
"Wow, 'rectify her situation immediately.’ It's pretty clear which choice that reader thinks is the right one."
"Yeah, well," she muses wryly, "it's not as if I presented the case for Jason."
"No. Is it weird for you now, looking back on that chapter, when that decision loomed larger than life?" I cannot actually imagine the courage it must've taken for her to give up everything she thought she wanted.
"I was getting to the point where I would've had to break up with Jasper even without the appearance of Black Velvet and the Dark Prince in my life. I just felt like such a phony. I felt so guilty all the time, and I knew we both deserved better."
She drops her head back against the arm of the couch and regards the ceiling. "But it certainly was serendipitous that you happened to appear just at that moment, wasn't it?"
"You know, if you'd have waited just one more day to post your story or look at those kinky pictures”—I shake my head with the realization—“I wouldn't have found you until next year. And God willing, I won't be doing next year's review!"
"Yes, I believe you called it 'fortuitous."
I jut my chin toward her laptop. "Anything else?"
"Yes, she reviewed chapter six as well. Though the soldiers freak me out a little, perverted is right, I'm a little grossed out as I imagine them sniffing the panties and doing all sorts of lewd acts in their quest to find their owner. Then it makes me wonder how many others tried them on before they found their rightful owner (let's hope not many, since they were still wet, 'cos that's a little gross in anyone's book). 'Inside NOW, with a devilish grin'… Oh what Master has planned for his princess next, leaves me tingling with anticipation. Thank you OMK I really hope you keep writing this story, love it. Whiti."
I smile through the entire review. This Whiti has a way of lending support and humor, along with just the slightest touch of repulsion at Isabella's outrageous hyperbole. She's finding her web of support online, in the form of a lively bunch of open-minded readers who may not share the lifestyle, but certainly appreciate the fantasy. Especially where real life friends have been disappointing, with the exception of her loyal Angela, Isabella can spread her wings in this new non-judgmental world.
"Now why are you looking at me like that?" she echoes, sharing my grin.
"I'm happy for you. You don't have to hide yourself away anymore. That must feel incredibly liberating."
"Funny how that works, isn't it? The more I give myself over to you, the freer I feel?"
"Even still, there's that core inside you that will continue to resist, no matter what logic tries to dictate."
"You read my entry."
"Of course," he smiles. "It made for excellent lunchtime reading material. Was there something you wanted to ask me?"
The devil.
I roll my eyes. "I already know the answer. Answered it while I was typing the question."
He swivels his legs and crosses his feet on the coffee table before sliding his eyes knowingly across to mine. "So you also understand that this is exactly what you want?"
I feel the blush as it rises from my neck. God, I'm such a horny beast all the time now. It's completely insane. I rest my laptop on the table and crawl down the couch, placing my head in Edward's lap. He pulls his fingers gently through my hair as I nuzzle my face close to his burgeoning erection.
"I do?" I shift my gaze upward. I love looking up at him from this angle, mostly because of how gleeful his expression is as he looks downward. "But don't I want to be perfect for you?"
"Yes. Always. And you are. But there's always a higher level to be achieved. More perfect perfection."
That does me in. I reach my hand inside the waistband of his flimsy pants and find him hard and wanting. My mouth is around him before the air has a chance to play across the surface of his skin. Edward hisses and groans, gathering my hair into one hand.
"Fuuuck, Isabella. That feels so good."
He reaches the other hand down the front of my tank, capturing a nipple between two fingers.
I moan around the fullness in my mouth and draw his hand out of my shirt, planting it decisively on the cushion at his side. Please, let me.
Edward responds by throwing his head back along the couch and closing his eyes, magnificently passive. Even his grip around my ponytail is a courtesy, rather than a demanding presence.
I transmit the full force of my desire to be “more perfectly perfect” for not only my Master but also my boyfriend. Focused on drawing out Edward's responses, I swallow around him, engaging the muscles of my throat along with lips, tongue, and fingers. I slide my hand along the smooth surface behind his balls. Literally feeling his pleasure as my own, I am slick with moisture as I press bravely into the forbidden spot I know he loves. His hips lift and press forward; I take him in eagerly. He grunts long and low, refreshing my arousal. I'm almost delirious with the pleasure he expresses loudly as I cup his balls and press below and slide my mouth up and down his shaft.
My thighs rub together with unbearable tension. Edward's hips adopt my rhythm, driving upward with each of my journeys down his shaft. His grunts become my own loud moans as I crawl inside his bliss. His grip tightens around my hair, and in the last second before release, he locks my head in place. He spurts his hot cum deep into my throat as I continue to milk his ecstasy from every corner.
Edward's fingers relax their hold as his labored breathing begins anew. I release him from my mouth and hands when I feel that twitch signaling overstimulation. Lapping gently with my tongue, I avoid the sensitive tip, just wanting to stay with him and usher him back to me.
His abdomen heaves with one final long blast of breath, and his second hand joins the first in my hair.
"Wow. That was fantastic. What did I do to deserve that? Because I promise you I will do it over and over again."
I nuzzle him one last time with my nose and lips before glancing up into his eyes. "You enjoyed it."
He looks utterly dazed. "Well of fucking course I enjoyed it. Who wouldn't, baby?"
I roll my eyes and flop onto my back, leaving my head between his knees. "Never mind."
"Jesus." His face twists in understanding. "Scoot up here and kick those pants off for me."
Changing the subject along with my position, Edward pulls off my shirt and slides me along his legs until my hips are resting right between his legs. "God, look at you. You're completely soaked and your nipples are sharper than pencil points from giving me that insane blow job. Do you have any clue what a dream come true you are, Isabella?"
"Just shut up and touch me already!" I beg.
"All right, you demanding little vixen. You'll get your way tonight. But tomorrow? Master's not going to be so quick to satisfy your little itch."
Oh fucking hell. His threat of denial is almost enough to rock me right into an orgasm. Almost.
One finger is all it takes. I circle each breast three times, watching her face intently as her forehead scrunches with frustration. Then, as that finger makes it torturous glide downward, her hips rise shamelessly to greet my fingertip. I don't even get past the hood of her clit. Two gentle strokes and she bucks like a wild bronco, a sheen of sweat glistening along her pebbled skin and a wail of unbridled passion streaming from her lips.
Ten minutes later, she's back at the opposite end of the couch, tapping productively away and glancing occasionally in my direction. My eyes grow bleary but it seems she becomes more alert and excited as the night turns to early morning.
"Any chance you'll be ready for bed soon?" I ask hopefully.
"Absolutely. Just putting the finishing touches on the chapter. Then I'll reread it in the morning before posting."
"So what did the Dark Prince have in store for his freshly delivered Princess?"
She smiles. "Full-on dungeon. Whipping benches, crosses, all kinds of ceiling hardware…"
"Mmmm, so he just keeps her locked away down there all the time and uses her whenever the mood strikes?"
"No. Just at first. To break her in."
Oh hell, the blush on her face is so sexy.
"Then what?" I capture her ankle in my hand, drawing tiny circles with my thumb while she talks.
"Then he'll probably dress her in a wench outfit and have her serve him all day long."
"God, I love the way you think."
She shrugs.
"All right, Isabella. I'm going to take my rock-hard erection into the bedroom and do my best to wait patiently for your arrival."
Isabella giggles, "Just give me five minutes."
I drop a kiss on the nearest ankle. "I'll try."
Four and a half minutes later, and yes, I counted, Isabella slips through the doorway. Again, she's got a hand behind her back and an impish smile on her face.
"What did you do?" I ask, unable to keep my own grin contained.
She steps further into the room and draws her arm around front. In the dim light, I can make out a glass. It's not till she reaches the nightstand that I see there's something floating in the water. What the hell?
I switch on the lamp. There, resting against the bottom of the glass, is a set of fake teeth.
"I brought my dentures," she informs me, huge grin taking over both cheeks.

A/N: Huge thanks to Whiti for her HEA reviews and my own personal Wicki-pedia for all kinds of...ahem...useful advice! As for ALL the rest of you, I hope you got that shout out for yourselves, my wonderful nonjudgmental online community!

HOT OFF THE PRESSES! (And apologies to some of you who got this news over at LRR yesterday...) I have just published a reworked, new and improved, non-Twilight version of OUAD entitled Once Upon A Temptation by Kaye P. Hallows (that stands for Kinky Pumpkin Halloween, by the way!). Every book chapter is exactly 100 words (by my count), and many of the little glitchy things about OUAD have been ironed out. Oh, if you don't know where those kinks are, I'm certainly not telling!

If you're interested, OUAT can be yours on Amazon (in paperback at the moment, pending the Kindle version looking presentable). And I have a blog at (remove spaces) onceuponatemptation . blogspot . com (and I'm not-so-secretly hoping someone with some skills will want to help me spiff things up over there a bit!) ...come and visit! The Bingo Conversation is incorporated into the new book, so THAT outtake alone has been deleted from fanfic. I do not intend to pull OUAD or the other outtakes at this time.

Not to get too mushy or anything, but I absolutely could not have done this without every word of encouragement and review I've received along the way; from questions, to issues, to corrections (GASP!), and mostly, to your personal stories that you've so graciously shared with me, ALL your feedback has contributed to this moment for me. I am profoundly grateful. Oh, I do believe that was mushy after all. (Hey, ever looked inside a pumpkin? It's messy in here!) And that's why the acknowledgment reads thus:

The story was inspired, nurtured, and lovingly supported by a group of wonderfully warm and creative readers from the miraculous world of fanfiction. Ladies (and random gentlemen) of the Pumpkin Patch, please know how much your voices and your friendship mean to me.

If you're still reading this mongo A/N, one more tidbit. You may have heard me squeal with joy on Thursday at 2:18 pm as I happened upon this fantastic blog post about 50 Shades/MOTU and the power of fanfic and erotica. As I got to the bottom, I could NOT believe my eyes- OUAD was mentioned along with the true greats of BDSM fanfic, and I am SO deeply honored to have been included! It's a great article by Avital Norman Nathman and the lovely TLIG is quoted therein. www . thefrisky . com/2012-04-05/50-shades-of-smut-confessions-of-a-fanfiction-reader/

Wow, what a week! Happy Passover or Easter, if those holidays are yours. XXX ~BOH


  1. Oh that dentures thing at the end made me laugh and sputter as I was flossing while I read! Great touch, there!
    Judging by his interaction with Rosalie, I'd venture to say that she is indeed a domme. I love his metaphor about sniffing asses....! j/s...and could Angela be any more crushing on Edward? It's really cute and she's not the only one....this old woman has quite a crush too. I need to read the WIPs in my inbox soon, but can't seem to tear myself away from here. I literally can't wait to see what the upped ante looks like....

    1. So happy you enjoyed the dentures remark! Ah, poor Edward. He's a crush a minute!