Merry Christmas from the Grippers of the Past!

This post is going to be a departure from our normal guest spot. Some of the past OGAG Alumni are sharing their Holiday Cheer. : )

I have posted what has come in so far, and if other emails come my way today, I will amend the post to reflect them.

Happy Holidays to all of our readers!!!

JUDE MASON:

Oh, it’s so cool to be back here at the Grip. *Waves at everyone* When Michelle asked if I’d like to say hi, how could I refuse? I miss the place, the struggle to get something intelligent out every week, the stress of finding a guest to send something and the pleasure of reading everyone else’s take on the weeks topic. Sigh, yeah, it was awesome fun. Seeing the new faces has also been a plus. New blood, new ideas, new kinks!! What fun. Course you all know I want to take this chance to not only wish you and your families the most amazing season’s greetings, but to also promote a little something, right? Yup! Fraid it’s nothing Christmassy. I seem to have an editor who finds great pleasure in adding to my workload at the wrong time. So, how about a tiny teaser from a book I’ve got coming out in the new year? I’m sure you’ll all enjoy a snippet from Jett’s Gift, due out in Feb.2011 from Total E-Bound.

Six hundred years he’d lived in darkness, feeding off the dregs of humanity and finding love with those who, for the most part, had been cast out or shunned for being ‘different.’

Alex was different, and he loved the man like he’d never loved anyone before. Loved him more than he’d thought possible after so long, so very, very long. Their couplings were nothing less than amazing. Alex, as always, was brilliant in the many ways he’d found to pleasure Jett. The lovely man knew how to do things with his mouth and lips that drove Jett mad with desire. The sharpness of Alex’s mortal teeth tugging at flesh long chilled and lust-tainted with the passing of so much time both astonished Jett and impressed him tremendously. He’d thought he was long past the intensity of arousal Alex garnered in him. Thinking of his lover’s amazing oral capabilities made his rod stiffen to majestic proportions and sensitivity. The gentle nipping of the man’s mouth was enough to set his teeth on edge and send flashes of ecstasy up his spine.

The best of the holidays to everyone!

Hugs
Jude

*Jude Mason – Readers needed: Come, explore with me…if you dare*
Website: http://www.my-haven2001.com/
Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jude_Masons_Newsletter/
To join my mailing list, go HERE

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JENNA BYRNES:

Merry Christmas to my friends, readers and fellow authors at the Grip! Jenna Byrnes here, popping in to wave hello and wish everyone happy holidays. I can’t believe it’s been just over a year since I stopped my weekly Grip blog posts. They say time flies when you’re having fun, and whether or not the past year has been fun, I’ve certainly found this to be true. Time, indeed, marches on.

The past few years I set a hectic pace for myself. Many months I had more than one new release at a time. It was fun, frantic, frenetic, fast-paced, furious, and a few other f-words I could probably mention. *G* Alas, it was a schedule I couldn’t live with any longer. After a great deal of consideration, I decided to cut back my erotic writing to the titles I co-author with my friend and fellow workaholic, Jude Mason. Fans of our Kindred Spirits series, never fear. Book five is on the way, and book six will come out sometime in 2011.

I still plan to be around, just not on the same scale I was before. I have a life outside my computer, and I plan to enjoy it. I can already tell you, by cutting my workload down the month of December has been a true joy for me this year. All my Christmas preparations were done early and none of them felt like chores. It’s been a truly wonderful holiday season.

If you’d like to receive special notice announcements when I have news next year, please sign up for my mailing list. No chat, just short emails when news happens.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jenna_Byrnes_Newsletter/ There are also a few free reads in the files section there, so enjoy. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and best wishes from my computer to yours!

Jenna Byrnes
Page Scorching Erotic Romance
www.jennabyrnes.com

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ASHLEY LISTER

Twas a Saturday Christmas, and whilst eating Yule Log,

I took time to pause at the Get a Grip Blog.

I’ve spent many hours with my friends who meet here

And I wanted to visit and wish them festive cheer.



You guys made me think, and kept me on my toes

Your comments made my cheeks burn like Rudolph’s red nose.

You’re witty and warm like a good English beer:

And I wish you a good Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Blessings of the holiday season everyone. And I hope 2011 brings you all the success and happiness you so richly deserve.

Visit Ash's website at: www.ashleylister.co.uk

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They're back ...

Jenna Byrnes and Jude Mason are back with us this weekend as our guest blogger. : )

Jenna: One of my favorite parts of the writing process is choosing a title. Jude might tell you that she agonizes over the process, but I absolutely love it. It’s like when I’m writing a mystery-- I might walk around seemingly normal on the outside, but inside I’m constantly mulling over tiny clues to throw into the story. Finding the perfect title sometimes works like that. I mull it over for hours, days, and occasionally even weeks, until the right name comes to mind.

Jude: Agonizes, she says. Add pulls hair out and whimpers and you may be close. Titles are often very difficult for me. I mull things over, but titles, unfortunately, either come to me out of the blue, or are like pulling teeth.

Jenna: About 75% of the time, I have a title in mind when I start writing. The rest of the time, as I write, a line pops out and I choose it for the title.

Jude: My ratio is a little different. 50% of the time I’ll have a title which leads to the story, or ‘is’ the story. A for instance, I saw Scorpio Tattoo. The title was there, the cover art, and the story, all at the same time. I knew the entire thing within minutes. That happens very rarely, and it’s awesome when it does.

Jenna: There’ve been a handful of manuscripts which were completely finished before the perfect title came to me, and I’ll admit, that bugs me. I like to know my title and I really don’t like ‘working titles’ that get changed after the fact. It’s like waiting until your child is born before you name it, or worse yet, changing the name when the kid is a few days old. *shudders* Not for me.

Jude: This is more the norm for me. (Okay, so my kids were named BEFORE they were born, honest, but the rest fits) Often, I’ll have the story completely done, my edits done and the work sent to Jenna for editing, the title still a complete mystery. She’ll often make suggestions and if I don’t get the title from her, I’ll get an idea. I’ve even had editors help me out with this.

Jenna: A couple times I’ve asked Jude to help me think of a title while she’s proofing a manuscript, and that has worked out well. Another time, a publisher asked me to change a title which she thought wasn’t sexy enough. I won’t say which book that was for, but I still hate the title ultimately chosen. LOL

Jude: Yes, I’ve offered my help a time or two, but this really is one aspect of being an author I’m not truly comfortable with. I distinctly remember saying to my first publisher, ‘you mean I have to come up with the title too?’

When Jenna has come to me about a title, I’ll do my best to offer ideas rather than the title. Sometimes it gives her a jumping off point and I’m thrilled when it happens. I really believe having the correct title, or a title that grabs the readers is one of the most important things. The cover might attract them first, but the title is second.

Jenna: I enjoy using a twist of words to create a title. I used to like using a character’s name, as in Convincing Cate and Switching Seth. Then I started seeing how many authors did that and how many verbs were tortured to come up with titles, so I’m trying to get out of that phase.

Jude: Well, I have always been awed by Jenna’s ability to come up with the perfect title. Titles like Alex’s Appeal and Feral Heat, to name just a couple. I never thought ‘tortured verb’, I did think ‘nice twist.’

Jenna: However it happens, I still love choosing titles. The satisfaction that comes from finding just the perfect one, for a writer, can’t be beat.

Jude: I’m in total agreement. When a title works, it’s magic and people notice. That’s what you want. When a title misleads or misses the mark, it can mean readers will prance on to the next book because they really didn’t ‘get’ what the first was meant to say. For a prolific author it’s more difficult, but it really is important.

They say the cover grabs the reader first. I agree. If you’re in a book store, you may be looking for that author you always buy. But, if you see a splash of color or the hunky guy in just the right pose with just the right props, you’ll stop to at least look. The title has to be right there, ready to snag them.

Speaking of titles, we’ve got a couple you might like to check out:
Stallion’s PrideBy Jude Mason and Jenna Byrnes
ISBN: 978-0-85715-058-5
Publisher: Total E-Bound

Purchase here
A recently discovered horse talisman and a gypsy horse changeling tribe seem like the perfect match. Is headstrong Brishen ready for the power the talisman brings?It's a stressful time for the familya of gypsy horse changelings. Shandor, King of the Gypsies, has died, leaving the clans at war and his son, Brishen, struggling with his new-found leadership. Brishen also struggles with something more personal - choosing a life mate. Will it be Tawnie, the female his father selected for him? Or handsome Jal, whose masculine features excite Brishen more than anything has before?In cougar territory, a day's journey away, clan leader Kai and his mate Aric are dealing with an issue of their own. A new talisman discovered - a brilliant purple stone with the head of a horse in gold filigree. Unaware of any horse changelings, Kai calls a meeting of the talisman holders to discuss what should be done.Tarek, leader of the bears, and Cole, ruler of the wolves, come together with Kai to track down their new changeling brothers. When they find the horses and meet young, headstrong Brishen, it's a battle of wills - a battle no one wants to lose.

——

Binary Stars: Willing and Able
Co-authors Jude Mason and Jenna Byrnes
Publisher: Phaze
Release date: coming soon

Willing
By Jenna Byrnes

Colt Willing never expected to be a key player in a drug-running operation. Before he can get out, he's determined to release the hold the organization has on Jonathan, the man he's grown to love. Jonathan has ties that bind him to drug-lord Nigel Caprice, and breaking the bonds may prove too difficult for Willing to tackle alone.

Able
By Jude Mason
Detective D.J. Able is determined to bring Caprice to his knees. Backed by his partner, Bryan Stokes, Able and his team are out for justice, and retribution for the loss of one of their own. When push comes to shove, Able discovers that even the best laid plans sometimes go astray, and the men end up in a fight for their very lives.

- - -

*Jude Mason - Come, explore with me…if you dare*
Website: http://www.my-haven2001.com Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jude_Masons_Newsletter/To join my mailing list, email me: jude.mason AT yahoo.ca

*Jenna Byrnes - Page scorching erotic romance*
Visit my website: http://www.jennabyrnes.com/
Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jenna_Byrnes_Newsletter/

Yes, Ma'am

by Jude Mason

A topic near and dear to my heart this week and unfortunately, it's my last post as a member of the OGG family. Life has tossed a few stumbling blocks under my feet and I've had to trim my obligations. I shall miss you all and hope to visit often. You're fantastic people here, readers and authors both. Thank you!

Now, on to femdom and some of it's most amazing aspects.

As some of you may know, I began my writing career writing femdom. I've been scribbling stories about how women control men for years and have always felt very comfortable telling their stories, as well as the stories of their men. There are so many scenarios to play with here. School teacher/student, Mistress/slave, Mistress/pony, naughty neighbor/infuriated woman next door, wanna be toy/for hire Dominatrix, spaceship captain/humble slave from the ships hold, to name just a few.

I adore strong women and get very annoyed when I see those movies where the simpering young fem squeals prettily while a knife wielding man threatens her. The gun laying on the table beside her is forgotten. The dumbass woman simply waits for the hero to save her.

WTF!

Grab the gun lady and blow the guys head off. Yes!

I mean for crying out loud. Would you just cringe and scream? I mean, really? I may not grab the gun, you never know that one until it happens, but I'd be doing more than squealing prettily, that's for sure.

Being in control. That's what femdom is, and for that matter it's also what male domination is. Whether it's taking control, or being offered it by the submissive, it's still having the ability to control not only yourself, but the knowledge and ability to control the other person. Sounds kind of bothersome, doesn't it?

Nah. It's fun. I'll toss in a couple of samples here. Remember, the men in my stories are willing/eager victims, and that's huge.

Taken from Vertical Tease:

He knew the voice; it was hers. The husky whisper was a huge turn on for him, and she knew it. He'd told her often enough. He tried to turn and look at her but couldn't swing his head far enough. "I thought this was just going to be an interview, a first meeting, not the real thing." Even to his own ears, it sounded lame. Her laughter came as no surprise.

"No, this is it, sweetheart. The real thing."

He heard the tapping of her shoes behind him, pacing back and forth. They halted, directly behind him.

"You paid good money for this, and I have the time now. So relax."

The way she said it made him feel anything but relaxed. He struggled against the rubber holding him tightly to the wall. Even the wall seemed to be well padded, nothing bruised. He was naked inside the suit, of that he was sure. Embarrassment sent a shiver through him. "But, I…uh…I'm not sure I'm ready." Again, a lame confession, and one he wasn't sure was true.

"I am." She stepped closer.

The puff of air against his cheek wafted across his nose. He was sure it was her breast pressinf against his back. At least, he wanted to believe it was. His cock throbbed. He gasped. It was free! Somehow, whoever had bound him had left his cock and balls exposed to the open air. Heart racing, his mouth went dry. Tentatively, he flexed his abdominal muscles and felt his cock sway. Her hands on his back forced his attention away from his groin. They moved along his spine, the material so thin, so tactile friendly, he felt every touch of her fingers from high up between his shoulder blades to just above the crack of his ass. She tested and tugged at the buckles that, no doubt, held him firmly in place.

"W-what are you going to do to me?" he asked, afraid of the answer, praying she'd do what they'd discussed—wondered if she knew the rest. Thoughts in turmoil, he closed his eyes and heard his heart beating while he waited for her to reply.

"I'm going to do exactly what I want to do to you."

* * *

Yum! There's no beating or torture, the man even though he's been bound and couldn't get away if he wanted to, is very turned on. That's the lady's idea of fun. His too, big time. Of course in Vertical Tease, the fellow actually sought out the woman and paid for her services, that's not always the case. I would dare say, it's not what happens most of the time. I would actually hope that for most men, and women, this is something done in a loving relationship. Something they've talked about a great deal and agreed upon.

As in any relationship, communications is important thing. While any long term pairing takes work and talk, it's even more important if one partner is going to take control of the other. You have to know how far the submissive partner wants to go, or is willing to go. You have to make sure you don't do something that could harm the other. The submissive partner has to know, deep down, he or she can trust their partner to stop immediately if they're not happy with what's going on, or if there's more pain than they're able or willing to take. Whatever. Trust and talking, HUGE!! Without it, the scene could be classed as abuse, and has been on many occasions. And I don't want to even go there. Talk or just don't do it.

I also believe, and this is just MY opinion, that men and women have different reasons for wanting to both dominate and/or submit to another. Men are raised to be in control of themselves and everything around them. From the few submissive men I've spoken to, they crave a time when they can completely let that go. They want to relinquish their power and responsibility to someone else. They may not want it to be in any other way but sexual, but sometimes it can be more.

Women, on the other hand, have been raised to submit, to some extent. Not so much now, but there is still that hint of it in our child rearing. Women are accustomed to it, and some fight it, while others may embrace it. They feel right when submitting, they can relinquish any responsibility of sexual excitement, after all, nice girls still aren't supposed to like sex in some cases. If they are forced to climax, it's not their fault.

I've got to assume this has something to do with at least some of the submissives. I'm not going to assume I've got all the answers, or even most of them. These just feel right to me. I'm also going to assume there are more reasons or explanations than just those. I'm also going to assume, that being either dominant or submissive is something like being gay or lesbian. You don't choose it, it's part of who you are.

Gasp... felt like I was teaching class again. Mr. Lister, I believe that'd be your job.

Now for a sexy young couple who really enjoy their time together. They've talked about adding a friend to their play, but little did Rick realize, today was the day and OMG it's her!

Taken from Pink Ribbon

"I want you to have a shower now, and make sure you're shaved." Cass flicked the tip of his erection with a finger, and laughed when it twitched from side to side. His scrotum puckered, and his balls itched even more. "But, make sure you don't masturbate. I'll pop in sometime during your shower to watch. If I catch you playing with yourself, you'll get both a flogging and be denied an orgasm."

"Yes, Mistress," he'd replied.

Cass got to her feet, and added, "On your feet, but keep your legs apart."

Rick had climbed to his feet. He'd curled his fingers into fists to keep them away from his crotch. The frustration mounted even higher when he'd made his way to the bathroom. His genitals swayed, the air wafted around his balls.

He'd showered and shaved, paying special attention to his genitals. Even just being able to touch and pull at the skin eased his torment somewhat. Not enough though, and by the time he'd finished, he was as horny as he could ever remember being. The anticipation of what was going to happen was the culprit, and he tried not to think about what Cass had planned. But the more he tried to concentrate on something else, the more his mind refused, and came back to the days ahead.

Cass had come in, and sat on the toilet watching him as he shaved the stubble around the root of his cock. Running the safety blade over his balls, he'd pulled and stretched the skin, ensuring a clean shave. She chuckled when he groaned, and even offered to help him with his bottom. He'd turned off the shower, re-lathered and bent forward for her, and tried desperately to hold still while she ran the blade carefully between his cheeks. Done, she'd left him trembling and told him to make sure he rinsed well.

While he stood toweling himself, he'd heard the doorbell chime. His stomach tightened. Could he go through with it?

The bathroom door had opened. It was Cass, smiling, eager. "Now is your last chance to stop this. Once I take you out of here, you'll obey me or be punished."

His mind had been numb. Excitement and apprehension warred for a moment while he stood trembling on the white tiled floor. "Kiss me," he'd croaked. For that moment he'd felt vulnerable and alone, but when she came into his arms, his world felt complete and wonderful. She washis soul mate, his lady, and the only person in the world who understood him. She went into his arms, hers wrapping around his neck and pulling his lips to hers. It was his turn to take control, if only for a few moments of sheer bliss. Bodies melded to each other, tongues twined around the others, and breath mingled as they lost themselves in each other. Too soon the kiss ended. Neither moved for the longest time, but then it was as if a signal had been given.

Rick looked deep into his lady's eyes, and said, "Yes, I'm ready, Mistress."

Cass pulled out of his arms and took a deep breath. The bodice of her slip dress showed how erect her nipples were, and her chest above the silk dappled with a flush. "Heel me," she'd said, and turning, left the bathroom.

* * *

And here's a little something, by request. Thank you Lisabet. This short bit of fiction was included in Cream: The Best of the Readers and Writers Association...gasp. Quite a handle, don't you think? But a book filled with the most amazing erotica you'll find anywhere. Here's my little flasher:

The Question (100 words)
© 2002 Jude Mason

"What would you like, pet?" I asked, standing at his side. My hand, on his naked upturned ass, felt the heat of our last hour's session.

"More - please," he moaned, squirming, trying to rub his straining cock against something, anything.

"More?" I quipped, knowing.

"Spank me!" he growled. I watched his testicles pull in tight. A finger meandered around them, then upwards to his crinkled brown star, pressing mischievously inside. "Yes… Oh God, fuck me."

"Fuck or spank?"

Lustful indecision made him hesitate.

"I'll be back in an hour for your choice." I shut the door and heard him howl.

* * *

As you can see, this really is a topic I could go on about for days. I'll refrain and just say, different strokes for different folks. Just because your neighbor might like to have his butt warmed by his wife, doesn't mean he's odd. He's no more odd than the man who likes to wear his wife's panties or the woman who can't get off unless the lights are turned off. We all have our kinks. As long as you're talking and not doing something to harm each other, in my books, it's all good. Even a well warmed bum is a good thing, if that's what you enjoy. Try it, you might find you like it. Honest!

Oh, and if you are interested in reading a few of my femdom tales, try my collection in, Yes, Ma'am

Inside, you'll find:

An Acquired Taste
Pink Ribbon
Stage Fright
Amber's Toy
Ritual and Ceremony
A Fantasy Appointment

Yeah, an unabashed plug, but hey, it's my last post, so I'm being bad.

It's been a blast and I will be back to comment often, so you won't lose me entirely. Good luck and best wishes to you all. If you'd like to keep up with me, here are my links:


*Jude Mason – Readers needed: Come, explore with me…if you dare*

Website: http://www.my-haven2001.com
Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jude_Masons_Newsletter/
Jude's Blog: http://jude-mason.blogspot.com/
To join my mailing list, email me: jude.mason AT yahoo.ca

Sick, sick, sick!

by Jude Mason

No, not the perverted kind of sick, although that's not necessarily a bad thing. Perhaps the title should have been Illness Intensified or something.

For years, when I was younger, I spend weeks with bronchial problems during the fall and winter months. When I got a cold, it went to my lungs. When I had flu, it was in my lungs. Also, when I was in my teens, I was sensitive to some moss in the area...yeah, I know, that's crazy...and yes, it went to my lungs as well. I guess I learned to ignore the wheezing and breathlessness after awhile. Surprisingly, I was a very active child and teenager and never spent time in hospital, never even saw the inside of a hospital until I was in my late teens.

They say that every seven years your body completely renews itself, and I believe it. From 0-7, I was pretty healthy. From 7-14, I had the moss sensitivity thing. From 14-21 I had bronchial issues. When I hit 21, my life took a turn for the best. No more lung problems, just raising kids and keeping a house, and all that entails. I remained very healthy then until I was in my late 40's.

I'm back to having a certain amount of lung issues. Also surprisingly, there's no damage to my lungs. I am just prone to congested lungs when I'm ill.

Now, do I write when I'm feeling like someone's sitting on my chest? You bet your sweet bippy I do. I may take a day or two off, but only if I'm really ill. Writing takes me out of myself. If I can immerse myself in a character, I'm not there. I become that person and can simply let my 'self' go. I may still cough or wheeze, but I don't actually hear it. I'm usually by myself so there's no one to ask, 'are you okay,' or 'do you want ...' it's just the character telling his or her story.

Deadlines might be a little more of a hassle if I'm not well. Or I allow them to become more stressful. I'm one of those people who never miss a deadline. So sick or well, I'll meet them. I have a feeling I might write femdom a little more aggressively when I'm not feeling well, but that's about it.

Anyone else have health issues they ignore, or can't ignore when they're under the weather? Hmm, now there's a concept. Under the weather. What weather and how under it can you be?

I'd love to hear comments on this post.

Hugs

She's crazy...Don't bug her!

by Jude Mason

It's been a little while since I filled my spot here and I apologize to all of you who follow us here on the Grip. The flu has knocked me on my butt and even now I'm not back up to snuff but thought I'd give it a whirl this week.

When I met my husband, he knew I was a writer. If I'm not mistaken, when I first noticed him I was writing bad poetry instead of attending class. He can't say he didn't know. But, I can say he's been the most forgiving and thoughtful man I've ever known, even when he's an a$$.

I guess the question here would be more suited to him replying, but I'll do my best in his stead. When we dated, lust and angst and all those wonderful growing up things took a lot of time away from any serious writing, although I will admit, if I hadn't put pen to paper, I might have turned out a lot crazier than I am now. Hubby's willingness to share me with those characters in my head was a given. He either did, or I walked. He had his passions, so I've got to assume he understood, to some degree, what I meant.

We married, had our kids and raised them together. As a family, we did some great amazing things, but there was always a book somewhere that I scribbled notes into. The kids knew it, and it was just part of mom. My daughter writes, not as fanatically as I do, but it's in her blood too.

While the children were growing up, my writing took a backseat to a very large extent. I'm an insomniac, as it seems a great many authors are, and often I'd be wide awake for most of the night writing. It worked for me for years. When my kids were grown and pretty much gone, that's when I finally got the bug really bad.

When I write, I'm frantic. When I'm really into a story, I'm horrible if someone disturbs me. I've even growled at my family. They know not to bother me when I'm working. LOL. It's such a part of who I am, and they all know it, I've got to assume they don't mind. If they do, well, they keep it to themselves pretty well.

That's it. I'm a royal pain but my family loves me anyway. I'd love to hear from non-writers who live with us writerly types.

Shiver with Fright...or Delight

by Jude Mason

Terror and erotica, the two can definitely go hand in hand. A perfect topic for this time of the year, don't you think?

You may remember me telling you about my Roses. Roses Have Thorns and in this book, they do. Think of a young woman. She's out on her own, unable to find a decent job and thus turns to a life of prostitution. Sure, she's heard the stories about girls being mugged, raped, or worse, but it can't happen to her, right? Or can it?

A storm drenches the city, the johns aren't out, it's too miserable for them. Yet Rose is on her stroll. The rent has to be paid, food bought, she needs the money to survive.

A car approaches and a flash of warning makes her stop, but only for a second. It's cold, she's freezing. The car promises a warm haven if only for an hour or two.

Can you feel your heart racing for my Rose?

Can you imagine the fear she must feel every time she approaches a stranger in a dark car?

Here's a snippet of what happens to my lovely, sexy Rose:

A few short hours later, Rose was no more. In her place was a mindless, mutilated wretch. Naked, almost dead, she crawled. Not feeling the torrential rain or the cold wind, she inched forward. Blood ran in tiny rivulets from the many cuts decorating her too-white flesh and was washed away by the downpour. More trickled from her lacerated sex, and poured from her torn rectum. Several teeth were loose, one in the front gone, lost during her futile attempt to break free. Tears streamed from her eyes, both blackened and swollen almost shut.

Finally, her strength failed. She collapsed. Laying unconscious next to the dumpster, her body gave up. When her spirit fled, something entered and took control of the horrendously abused shell that had been Rose.

No one saw the convulsions that tore at the broken, skeletal frame. No one saw her shudder and rise to a sitting position. And, no one heard the mewling whimpers that spewed like demon-honey from her throat as the pain blossomed and grew, then inexplicably faded. Her eyes, somehow wide and staring, shone much too brightly in the gaunt pale face. And when she smiled, it was as if her face had split. A jagged snagle-toothed grimace, while she maniacally stared at nothing. There was no joy there, just a terrible quest for vengeance.

---

Do you still feel sorry for her? Or perhaps the man who did this to her is the one who should fear.

Then there are the ghosts who bring nothing but pleasure. Ghost of a Chance was one such story. A little shiver at the right moment, a mouth...or what felt like one. There goes that racing heart again...

"Open your legs again. Let me suck you," a deep, masculine voice whispered from inside his mind—from between his legs. Where?

He eased his knees apart, pushing his toes against the bundled sheets, spreading his legs comfortably wide. Cool bedding against his inner thighs sent a shiver of pleasure up his spine. He pushed his hands down his thighs, around to the inside then back up, hands again going to his sac.

"Yeah," he murmured, more asleep than awake. His balls shifted, and he moaned. Felt good. Sleep reached for him, drawing him into its quiet embrace.

A mouth, that man's he was sure, engulfed the head of his cock. He didn't have to move, he knew it, trusted his knowing. Simply laid back and enjoyed the wet suckling of his glans and the tongue delving into the oozing slit. His ass cheeks clenched. Butt cheek rubbed against butt cheek. Anus itched. He wanted—something.

The face was there, the dark eyes peering up at him. Amused, teasing.

His cock pulsed, the head battering at the back of his throat, that man's throat. Swallowed, squeezed, released, deliciously squeezed again on its way into his gullet.

Firmly, his balls caressed, pulled on, milked by the expert touch of another man. Only another man could know how to pull only so far, until a bare hint of pain itched at his inner thighs.

A finger slipped back between is ass cheeks, searching, delving, for the dark, moist hole nestled between his glutes. He knew it. Knew it as surely as he knew he was about to fill that mouth with a load of cum. Touched, pressed against, the relaxed ring accepting, welcoming the digit slowly eased inside.

Groaning, he flexed his butt, his excitement growing yet still he slumbered. A dream, he knew it had to be a dream, and even thinking it made him doubt. The groan came from some distance, couldn't be from him.

"Yes, you like this. You always liked it up the ass," the smooth masculine voice crept into his sub-conscious, pushing his excitement up a notch.

He wanted to shift, to push his hips up, to bury the deliciously wicked digit deeper into his hungry ass. Sweat trickled down his ribs. He felt that, or dreamed it.

"My sweet Daniel, let me fuck you the way we both love it," the voice droned.

Robert knew it was wrong, somehow, but he didn't want it to end. It'd been so long since he'd had anyone, and the sensation was driving him insane. He gripped the sheets, then fought to relax his hands. Who was Daniel?

The intruding finger probed a little deeper, finding the nut-sized prostate gland all too eager and ready to be stimulated. His cock throbbed, wetness touched his stomach.

He pulled his legs up, his knees towards his chest. Asleep, he had to be asleep.

Filled, his ass stretched, the opening pressed against, the membrane taut as something wet and slick and beautifully hard slid inside him. Again, the head of his cock engulfed in smoothness, pulsed.

Close, he was so damn close, his blood raced. His fingers and toes clenched. He wanted to scream. He ached to thrust. He trembled with the desire to grab and hold, and touch, and he knew he was alone.

Do you think fear, terror can add to the excitement? I'd love to know!