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Edges, Limits and Boundaries

Soft limits, hard limits, personal boundaries, personal fears. It doesn’t matter if we’re kinky or vanilla, every single one of us has things that we’re comfortable and not comfortable doing sexually; lines that we don’t want crossed, things that we adore doing. And it’s most certainly the case that one person’s ‘hell no!’ is another person’s ‘hell yes!’ That’s a good thing. If we were all the same, life and sex would be terribly boring. What intrigues me, however, is how our comfort levels and perceptions of what we do and don’t like, can and can’t tolerate, can – and often do – change over time.

Now, before I go any further with this train of thought, I’d just like to make it really, really clear that hard limits should always, ALWAYS be respected. No exceptions. They are not there to be pushed. They are not there to be ‘broken though’. A hard limit is a prohibition, a definite no-no. End of story. And a hard limit remains so until such time as the person whose limit it is chooses of their own volition and without coercion for it not to be.

Public service announcement out of the way, let’s continue.

One of things that I am coming to realise the longer I explore my sexuality is that the devil is very much in the detail. And the gulf between the aforementioned ‘hell yes!’ and my safeword is actually much wider than I originally thought. Not because I’ve been sloppy in articulating what I’m okay with and what I’m not or because I’m getting kinkier (I don’t think I am) but because identifying the things that arouse is a bit like going off to explore the jungle. You take your map with you and it defines the terrain you’re going to cover, but the route you follow to your destination often ends up revealing a multitude of alternate trails and tracks that you just have to go back and explore. And on occasion, those offshoots lead you to places you originally sought to avoid. Continue reading

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I’d just like to say that Sheri Savill shamelessly guilted me into joining in with this week’s Dungeon Crawl. There was much crying and wailing and gnashing of teeth – and then she launched an online assault that was so wicked, so pointed, I felt I just had to submit:

 

Sheri Savill & Chintz Twitter

She’s shameless, that Savill is. No limits. No boundaries.

So in retaliation, I’m going there. I’m going to ring my own bell and promote my short story Thorn King, which, as some of you may be aware, has just been released as part of Cleis Press’ erotic fairy tale anthology A Princess Bound.

See what you made me do, Sheri? See? Post a dark erotica excerpt. How could you? (The Corvette’s in the post.)

 

THORN KING

 

Just what is this … thing, this creature?

There is no time to consider the question; my mind blanks to a sheet of white nothing as a blisteringly hot tongue begins lapping at the crimson trails smearing my leg. I groan, my head falling backwards like a heavy, dead weight. The feeling is … indescribable. Sublime. Completely foreign.

Arousing.

The idea that some strange being is tasting my blood – feeding on me – should fill me with horror. Yet, with each lick, blood rushes to my clit until it is so tight and swollen I feel as if it might burst. It’s almost as if the cut in my leg has become a soft, luscious cunt and the tip of his tongue a tiny, rapacious cock.

I stare at the umbrella of leaves above and see a heavily pregnant moon shining between the trees. It leers down, a sinister voyeur to this strange, twisted encounter. His tongue continues to stab relentlessly. To probe at my flesh until it feels as if it has invaded my body, that he’s slid inside me like a dark, dark river.

 

Tickle your fancy? Click on the following links to purchase a copy:

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

Cleis Press

 

Who else is joining in with this week’s Dungeon Crawl? Click on the banners below to find out.


Dungeon Crawl