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11

Body Politic - 5

Tenant's premiership continues

When I walked in the flat was dark. Libby had given me a key and I’d hoped to find her home. I walked straight through into the kitchen, opened the fridge and poured myself a glass of white wine. I carried it through into the sitting room and turned on the low lights. “You took your time.” I nearly jumped out of my skin. Libby was sitting in a deeply upholstered armchair, her short hair...Read On

4

Embracing the Goddess

The wind rises, bringing forth the Goddess.

It is a quiet night, but for the wind. The Santa Anas' have begun blowing, fanning the inevitable brush fires, leaving the air scented with smoke and desert sage. The last glow of sunlight is fading away and the half moon is already bright in its rising arc. In the broad alley, an elegant Asian woman is enjoying a leisurely evening stroll, her dogs leading the way. She would normally...Read On

14

Emmanuelle: part three

Pixie and Sophie's night: an adagio for two

I settled myself on the sofa in Sophie's room. I was beginning to wonder why I had booked a room for myself? Thus far I had not spent either of the two nights I had been at the hotel in it. I reflected that it was as well that Anne had taken a suite, as she would need a large bed to accommodate her, Emily and my friend Emm. I wondered what they were doing? Emm was no doubt on her knees...Read On

1

Sweet Princess | Lesbian Erotica

She really enjoyed being called a princess by the other.

“The term is usually used with a negative connotation, but not for the same reasons.” Erroh stated as her pierced brow arched, she spoke in a tone barely above a whisper. She leaned into the booth, balancing on one foot as she soon retrieved her weapons belt, and around her waist it went while the crescent moon buckle was clasped. Her sheathed short swords were shifted into position at...Read On

14

In the Seraglio: Part One

The journey to Byzantium.

The came for me when I was sixteen. That makes it sound dramatic. It wasn't. Rabbi Glickstein had prepared me. Poppa could not spare Rebekah. Tall and full-breasted, the Khan had his eye on her. She was seventeen. She was our family's promise of a better future. I was the runt of the litter. Poppa always complained that it was a trial that he should have such a daughter. I was just under...Read On

7

Dead Doll - epilogue

The solution to the Dead Doll murder mystery. You should read it first if you haven't already.

They give us the key to the only suite there, even though we only intend to use the bathroom. Lucy sits down on the toilet to pee before she joins me in the shower. “We should stay here a few days,” she says as she changes place with me under the running water. I tell her I don't think it's a good idea. I just want to go home. After the shower, before I put my clothes back on, I crouch...Read On

4

New Found Home pt.2

She walks me to the front door, and says in a very soft, almost unable to be heard, voice. "Welcome home, Kitten." I look up at Her, my eyes the softest blue they could ever be. My Mistress. The woman who I had spent two years submitting to online. The woman who had captivated my very mind, heart, soul, and body within two months of being Hers. No matter how nervous, anxious or scared I was,...Read On

Of Cloaked Vesture

A palsied penumbra by any other name is still a rook of cloaked vesture. Like a locust with a St. Vitus dance, shedding its outerwear of disposition, the tall, gaunt man grinned. He was of devious nomenclature, and pseudonymous character. He imbibed a rum laudanum from a flask, pausing, touching the window pane, with a gelatinous temper of lustful desire and his fingers tapping like...Read On

15

Body Politic - 7

Sam visits the White House

Part 7 Unlike the American President, British Prime Ministers do not have their own aircraft. That is a bit of a pain for her security but somehow it all seems to work. The black Jaguar led a small convoy as it swept across the tarmac at London’s Heathrow Airport and stopped at the bottom of a flight of steps leading up to a British Airways 747. Sylvia Tenant and her entourage, including...Read On

11

Call Me Pixie: Part Eight

Enter Emmanuelle...

The noise of a harp broke through the silence. In my sleep-deprived early morning mind, putting things together in a haphazard fashion, like putting on last night's panties with odd socks and forgetting to comb my hair, I imagined heaven and angels. Out of habit, my hand reached out, catching a breast instead of a phone. It seemed a good exchange to me. I snuggled in. The owner of the...Read On

11

Healing Myself Part Two

Love grows for Isobel.

I looked down from my raised platform, an L-shaped arrangement of boards on a scaffold frame that was about fifteen feet off the ground. It allowed me to overlook a king size box spring draped in scarlet quilting. I raised my camera and hit the release a couple more times which triggered the light array below me as I recorded the scene which was unfolding. The two women entwined on the...Read On

13

Emmanuelle: part four

A scherso with trio

Sophie and I stayed together the whole night. What had happened when we had made love was so powerful there was no need of any more physicality of that sort. We snuggled up, cuddling, talking, laughing, liberated from the world and its cares. Her scent, her taste, the softness of her skin, and her wit and humour, lit up the night. At some point, around the hour that the short summer's...Read On

8

Emmanuelle: Part Eight

Enter the Oligarch

I can’t say I wasn’t tempted. Emm looked a million dollars. The red silk dress she wore seemed to caress her curves, and then cascade from them in a way which emphasised the fluidity of her body as it moved. As the BBC technician, who was as a gay as I was, said to me as she walked past: ‘She’s poetry in motion. I wish I was bi!’ I couldn’t but agree about the appearance. Her body was...Read On

13

In the Seraglio: part two

Prepared for the Sultan

The Sultan may have been master of all he surveyed, but he did not survey his own Seraglio. There his mother held sway. Fortunately she had taken a liking to me, and called me her poppet. She sort of reminded me of my Momma and so I liked her. I was not blind to the advantages that might come from being her favourite. She hated the Circassians. I soon understood why. Her husband, Sultan...Read On

9

Emmanuelle: Part Ten

Schlyukha: to Russia with lust.

Waking early, as she always did, Sophie sweetly brought me back to consciousness with a coffee and smoked salmon blini. 'These are courtesy of Ekaterina. You missed a treat, Pixie.' Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I looked across at her, her blue eyes lively and teasing. 'No doubt this came courtesy of another Amazonian unnatural blonde. How unlike my own darling honey blonde.' I ruffled...Read On

13

Emmanuelle: Part Five

After breakfast, we took a compliant pet Emm back to a place we own. This is a record of her 'dream'

I remember being drugged, waking I found myself shackled securely to an St Andrew's Cross. Feeling intoxicated and euphoric, I gazed around the room, there was a small table next to the cross. Looking down at it, I saw a tall glass jar containing a clear liquid, and next to it a series of needles so fine I could barely make them out, each one about four inches long, with a jade bead on the...Read On

8

Emmanuelle: part six

Among the sand dunes

We peered over the edge of the hillock, hand in hand. We had come in the hope of having a quiet cuddle in the open air, but Emily, Anne, Emm and someone else had found the same secluded spot earlier – and for another purpose. We had read the record of what Anne, who was now Emm’s Mistress, had called ‘Emm’s dream,’ which had ended with her being branded on the ass. But we could see, from...Read On

8

Emmanuelle: part nine

Into the Oligarch’s lair

I had never spent half a concert watching a friend eat another woman. Did the whole come to more than the sum of the parts, or did each detract from the other? After Ekaterina had orgasmed for the third time, Emm was allowed to take her seat next to her new Mistress. I kept a wary eye on Ivana, who clearly had an itch she wanted me to scratch. As the audience rose in acclamation. I...Read On

8

Emmanuelle: part twelve

To Russia with love

Ekaterina and Emm stole the show. There was not a woman in the room who did not either envy them or want to sleep with them; Sophie and I were in the latter category, though, truth to tell, no sleep would have been had. The reception got into full swing. There must have been three dozen people there, and even I recognised some famous faces. Sophie, who was as formidably knowledeable on that,...Read On

11

Emmanuelle: part seven

An afternoon to remember

It was delicious having an afternoon off work, and to be able to spend it with my fiancée, Sophie, was very heaven. Generous soul that she was, Sophie insisted that as she had had an orgasm out in the sand dunes, I should have one back at the hotel. Being equally giving, I saw no reason to deprive her of that goal. By the time we reached the hotel, it was gone four, and we would both need...Read On

13
Recommended Read

In the Seraglio: Part Three

In the Chamber of the Padishah.

He looked at me. Best strike now, I thought, so I filled the silence. ’You know the Rus are meditating rebellion, and if their gold prevails with the Khan, is this the time to provoke him, Majesty. I would not have you suffer the fate of Harold the Saxon Padishah.’ He looked at me and laughed out loud. ’And who is this Harold that I should be mindful of him?’ ’It is a tale I have...Read On

9
Recommended Read

In the Seraglio: part four

As she liked it

The story soon got around. Rahab had not satisfied the Sultan. The Circassians looked smug, not least at Svetlana. The other wives reacted more kindly, on the whole. Those who were members of the play-group were sweetest. As zero challenge to any of them, but not banished by the Sultan, I was accepted as different. That Calliope obviously favoured me, did me no harm, either. I told her what...Read On

9

Emmanuelle: part eleven

The Oligarch Strikes

For some reason (lack of cash mostly) I had never spent the afternoon being pampered at a private spa; I could get used to it. All I need, having had the experience, is the income. Sophie and I went down to the basement with Ivana, who introduced us to the Manageress, and then, quickly pecking Sophie on the cheek, departed to fulfil Ekaterina's commands. The Manageress, yet another of...Read On

6

The Damascus Road: Part One

The Sultan goes south...

That was our last night at the Topkapi Palace for months. The morning following our night of passion, the Sultan marched south - on the Damascus road. We said a tearful farewell to the ladies of the Seraglio. Calliope, the mother of the Sultan and my lover and protector, wept, and pulled me to her generous bosom. For a moment, I just wanted to climb in there and stay. But my Master was...Read On

6

In the Seraglio: Part Six

What a night...

Jess came to my couch. I had told Calliope, my patroness and mother of the Sultan, of my design, and she had offered me the inner sanctum, where no eunuch ever came. That was typical of her generosity to me. I had brought her much pleasure, and she was unselfish in allowing me to have some of my own. She had bought Jess for me at the slave market. She had offered me objects of greater...Read On

6
Recommended Read

In the Seraglio: part five

Enter Jess

Calliope explained that there had been a fresh influx of slaves at the market, and that she liked to choose those for the Seraglio; she suggested that I might enjoy the trip, saying it would be a treat. Since arriving in Istanbul, I had not left the Topkapi Palace. As it was the size of the village I had spent my life in, plus some, that was not quite the hardship it might have seemed. It...Read On

6

In the Seraglio: part seven

The plot thickens

'There is one solution,' Calliope suggested, when we were discussing the ambitions of the Circassian women, who aspired to control the Sultan. Irene, the statuesque blonde who had ensnared him, and was carrying his child, was scheming to replace the Sultana, and we were wondering how to block her ambitions. I asked the Sultan's mother, Calliope, what she thought we could do. 'You could...Read On

9
Recommended Read

In the Seraglio: part nine

A perfect evening

The ideas I put to Will were ones I had meditated on hard. The arrival of my new love, Jess, had not meant that my initial love, Svetlana, the woman from Rus who had arrived in the Seraglio with me and the Circassians, was out of the picture. The Sultan loved her gorgeous figure, and her personality was far more pleasing than that of her rivals. But she had no political ambitions, and...Read On

6

In the Seraglio: part ten

Midsummer night's scene

That special night, with the banquet, the English poet, Will, and what had occurred between myself and my beloved Jess, afterward, lived long in my mind. As things transpired, it was the beginning of the road to a future which, at that time, I could never have imagined. It would be at least three months before the English would return to Istanbul. By then the potential heir to the Empire,...Read On

5
Recommended Read

In the Seraglio: Part Eight

Exit, pursed by a bear.

I was excited. I loved telling stories, and did so to the Sultan many evenings before he pursued his lustful desires with my fellow concubines. But there was something special about practising my art at a banquet. I suppose I loved the reaction from a wider group of people. There was a special pleasure in store, because that evening's event was for the English ambassador, and would be...Read On