New Release: Stargazing
Posted on March 31, 2009
Turn up your collar, feather your hair, put that big comb in your back pocket, and splash on some Polo, because we’re going back to high school in the ’80’s! Sara is obsessed with pop star Tyler Vincent, and as she nears the end of her senior year, she’s determined to find a way to be with him – although her best friend, Aimee, keeps telling her to find a different escape from her desperately violent home life.
Complications arise when Dale, the mysterious new transfer student, sets his sights on Sara, and she falls for this rock-star-in-the-making in spite of her better judgment. When Sara wins a contest, she is faced with a choice – travel to Tyler Vincent’s home town to meet him, or stay and support Dale in a Battle-of-the-Bands hosted by MTV. Their triangulated relationship is pushed to its breaking point, but there is another, deeper secret that Dale’s been keeping that just may break things wide open…
EXCERPT:
“So, I didn’t see you carry anything in for me,” Dale said. “Does that mean its small enough to fit in your pocket, or that you didn’t get me anything because I’ve been such a bad boy?” He nuzzled my neck and sent goose bumps down my arms.
“Actually, neither. It’s already here,” I said. He raised his eyebrows at me. “And it’s not totally from me.”
“Oh?”
“Well, John and I split the cost, actually. I used the babysitting money I’ve been saving for a couple of years, but I still didn’t have enough, so your dad helped out.”
His eyes widened. “Holy cow, what did you get me, a Porsche?”
“Not exactly.” I grinned. “Something better. Close your eyes and I’ll show you.”
Dale dutifully closed his eyes and I helped him to his feet, leading him back to John’s room. I sat him down on the bed and closed the door.
“Are you sure my Christmas gift is in here, or is this just a ploy to get me alone?”
I laughed, opening the closet door. “Are you ready?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay.” I pulled off the towels and clothes we had covered it with. “You can open your eyes.”
He did, and his eyes widened, his jaw dropping. He sat there like that for a full ten seconds, stunned.
“I… you… wow!”
I laughed, clapping my hands. “You really like it?”
“Like it?” Dale stood and swung me into his arms. “You are the sweetest, most generous, most wonderful girl in the world. Thank you.” He hugged me close. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” I said against his neck. “Now you don’t have an excuse not to enter the Battle of the Bands.”
“I can’t believe you did this. Amplifiers cost a small fortune. You must have spent your life savings,” he said into my hair, hugging me so close it was hard to breathe.
“Almost,” I said. “But you’re worth every penny.”
He kissed me then, taking my breath as always. I felt his heart beating against mine.
“Are you ready for yours?” he whispered near my ear.
“My what?” I asked, a little dazed from his kiss. He grinned.
“Come on.” He led me back into the living room. I sat on the floor while he dug around under the tree. He pulled out a long black velvet box and my heart sank at the sight of it. He came to sit next to me.
“I know we talked about it and said we didn’t want to make a commitment. Because we’re still in high school, and you’re going away to college, and Tyler Vincent, and me trying to make it in the music business,” he started, holding my hand and the box in the other.
He paused and I looked at him. Don’t do this, I pleaded silently and he smiled a little sheepishly.
“But-?” I said for him.
“I want you to know this isn’t like that. This is…this is to show you that I understand… about your feelings for Tyler Vincent. And about me.”
I took the box from him and hesitated before opening it, a little afraid. It creaked open and I gasped aloud, lifting the heart-shaped locket out, holding it up on tented fingers. The gold shone in the light and a diamond sparkled in its top left corner.
“Oh, Dale,” I whispered, laying it in my palm.
“Open it,” he encouraged.
“There’s more?” I lifted the tiny latch and opened the heart. On the left side was a picture of Dale, looking a little younger but much the same. On the right side was a picture of Tyler Vincent. I felt tears well and couldn’t keep them from falling.
“Hey, don’t cry. Don’t you like it?” he asked, concerned, touching my cheek.
I hugged him hard and fast, surprising him a little I think. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered against his shirt. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve a great deal more than this, beautiful, and I intend to give it to you.” He clutched me tightly.
“Will you put it on me?” I pulled away to hand the locket to him and lifted my hair. He put it around my neck and took a moment to do the clasp. I felt his breath touch the tiny hairs on the nape of my neck. I let my hair fall and turned to look at him.
“Dale.” I said his name quietly, running my hand along his jaw. “Thank you. For this. For understanding. For everything.”
“Do I have to say you’re welcome? You’re always welcome.” He opened his arms and I went to him.
It was the best Christmas of my life, and I wanted to give him more. Our mouths met, the heat of his body like a shock as he pressed me to the floor with the weight of him. There was no in between with Dale-it was all or nothing. His mouth demanded it, his hands, too, and most of all, the heat of him, hard and insistent, against my hip through the denim of his jeans.
We had spent too many nights like this, fumbling and touching and coming, oh, so very close, until I managed to whisper, “No, wait, wait!” and we were left gasping and feeling a little empty as we dressed, staring at the ceiling. Not tonight. Tonight I was like liquid under him, something soft and pliable and yielding.
“God, Sara,” he moaned when I unzipped him, something I’d never done without his prompting. The heat filling my hand was incredible, throbbing with his pulse. The way the skin seemed to slide up over the head and down again, it was like something alive all on its own. It responded on its own, too, swelling in my hand as I squeezed and tugged, the tip leaking a little.
Dale’s hands moved under my sweater, pushing up the bulk of material and seeking my flesh. I loved his hands, his rough fingers, calloused from years of guitar playing, rubbing over my belly, up to my bra. He had become an expert with my bras, and this one was a quick front-hook solution, no puzzle at all. My breasts were free to his touch and his gaze, and he sank against them with a soft sigh…
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New Release: The Real Mother Goose
Posted on March 1, 2009
THE REAL MOTHER GOOSE
By Selena Kitt
www.excessica.com
Length: Novel (36,800)
Category: Romance, Fantasy, BDSM
Heat Level: eXcess 4
Price: $4.99
Settle yourself in for a wicked bed time story, a hot, wild ride through nursery rhymes like you’ve never heard them before. Set in a fantastical world where the privileged few own and raise sex slaves like beloved pets, Mother herself is the star of the show, wielding a riding crop and taking care of and training her young charges with a firm and skillful hand. But where has Father Goose wandered off to, and who will take Mother in hand when she ventures too far?
EXCERPT FROM THE REAL MOTHER GOOSE:
Little Bo Peep
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
And can’t tell where to find them.
Leave them alone,
And they’ll come home,
Wagging their tails behind them.
“Peep!” The voice shook the room and the startled girl looked up as Mother came in. “Do you know where your sheep are now?”
“No, Mother.” The girl looked up from her position, kneeling on the floor, her blue eyes wide. “I penned them before I left, I swear it.”
Mother Goose came toward her, the high heels of her soft boots clicking on the floor. She squatted down before Peep, whose hands were bound behind her to her feet with pink satin sashes.
“You are a pretty little one,” Mother said, lifting the girl’s chin and studying her face. Mother’s eyes moved over the girl’s body, the pink and white corset drawn tight, her blonde curls spilling over her shoulders, partially hiding Peep’s rosy little nipples. “Sometimes I think you’re just playing dumb.”
“No, Mother,” Peep implored, shaking her head. “I penned them, I promise you.”
“Is that so?” Mother asked, standing again. Peep looked up Mother’s long legs, encased in black fishnet stockings and garters, the dark triangle between her legs exposed, as it always was, for easy access.
Mother had taken to wearing black since Father had crossed over, and her mood was ever changeable, but lately she seemed often cross and hard to please. Mother tapped her toe in front of Peep’s knee, folding her arms over her ample breasts that were pushed up high in her black corset, but covered with the sheer, lace peignoir that she always wore, unbuttoned to the floor.
“Mother, please,” Peep pleaded. “I will go tend them, if you let me.”
Mother walked over to the cabinet and the girl moaned, the sound caught halfway between regret and anticipation. “I think we need a little correction, don’t you?” Mother’s voice drifted over her shoulder as she chose a small cat o’nine tails from her collection.
“Please,” Peep pleaded again, her eyes downcast. “I’ll be a good girl.”
“Yes,” Mother murmured, coming to caress the her cheek with her soft hand. “You will.”
Mother reached behind the girl and began untying the pink satin ribbon that bound her. Peep sighed in relief, rolling her tired shoulders once her arms were free. She leaned forward onto her hands and knees as Mother began to untie her feet, but then the older woman stopped.
“No… this is good,” Mother said, tightening the sashes at the girl’s ankles, chuckling. “Turn around, Little Bo Peep, who’s lost her sheep, and doesn’t know were to find them.”
Peep did as she was told, turning her face toward the wall on her hands and knees, using her hands to slowly work herself around. She felt Mother’s hand caressing her ass, and she shivered, looking back over her shoulder at the older woman. Mother was squatting down behind her, beginning to drip the many straps of the cat o’nine tails over Peep’s behind like a little leather waterfall.
“Peep’s little puss,” Mother whispered, parting the dark blonde fuzz with her fingers to peer in at the pink treasure. “I love peeping at Peep’s little puss.” Mother giggled, wiggling her fingers through and finding the girl’s clit.
“Oh, Mother!” Peep moaned, lifting her bottom in the air as much as she could with her feet tied together at the ankles.
“That’s right, Peep,” Mother encouraged, with her finger and her voice. The girl’s clit was swollen and pulsing. “You like it so much, don’t you?”
Peep nodded, glad her long blonde hair was covering her red, flushed face. Mother’s fingers were rubbing there, making her moan with pleasure. Peep’s little puss was incredibly responsive, her lips swelling, the pink color deepening to a rosier shade.
“You’ve been a naughty shepherdess, haven’t you, Peep?” Mother asked, standing behind her. The girl nodded, her blonde hair falling in waves falling over the stone floor. She felt the first blow from the cat o’nine tails, almost a gentle thing, with just a little sting. She twisted and squirmed.
“Oh, Mother, please,” Peep whispered. Her pussy was still throbbing from the older woman’s attention.
“Yes, tell me.” Another blow, and then another. Mother waited.
“I lost my sheep,” the girl sobbed, feeling another blow, and then another. Her bottom felt hot. She cried out as she felt three more stings from the cat o’nine tails in quick succession. “Oh, Mother! Please!”
But the older woman was catching a rhythm, now, and Peep could hear her working hard. She lashed the girl again and again, until Peep’s bottom felt red and raw and huge, and her pussy-it was on fire, throbbing with longing. She hid her shamed face behind her curtain of hair, her tears falling onto the stone floor.
“Now, are you going to find those sheep, Miss Peep?” Mother asked, grabbing the girl by the hair and pulling her head back, looking down at her tear-stained face. Peep nodded, moaning softly, looking dazed, her eyes glassy. “But first, you are going to do penance, aren’t you? On your knees.”
Peep nodded, tears still streaming down her rosy cheeks. “Yes, Mother.”
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