Thursday, July 28, 2011


Soon our dear friends Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane's erotic BDSM novel will be released! Therefore, for the next several weeks we will be sharing our weekly blog time with them.

To start, they are offering a short story. Please let us know what you think.

Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane

Cold, emanating from the stone floor, penetrated the sole’s of her feet. She stared about the chamber, not knowing how she had gotten there, certain that she should leave. The door wasn’t locked. He wouldn’t do that, not yet anyway. She could run if she chose. She didn’t. Something held her, a force beyond both her control and comprehension. Instead, she waited for the Master, trembling, uncertain, yet stubbornly holding true to the path she had decided to follow.

She walked to the fire, blazing in the hearth, and held out her hands. Her cotton nightdress, with its low bodice and brief hem was not adequate for such a chilly chamber. She knew what he expected, but it was hard to comply. They had met but once, and her terror had been all consuming. Even now, it rose in her throat, threatening to choke her, but she contained it. With a will dug up from unknown depths, she searched the room until she found the blindfold. Placing it over her eyes, she stripped off the skimpy garment and placed it to one side. She dropped to her knees and spread her thighs. The action signaled her submission.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, pausing just outside the door. The slave’s heart skipped a beat. Her chest rose and fell as tattered breaths escaped parted lips. She tilted her head back, which enabled her to see through the tiny gap of the blindfold. She stared at the door, ready to drop her head if he appeared. Her gaze shifted to the four poster bed positioned on the opposite wall, then moved toward the leather whip stretched across a dresser. There were other objects, as well, but she couldn’t name them. An odd combination of terror and sexual arousal assaulted her.

She wanted.

She needed.

She feared.

The door creaked open. He stood there in shadows, always in shadows. In this world of complexity there were only brief glimpses of light. Yet his startling eyes came at her, bewitching her while his power and passion heated the air. She dropped her head quickly, and unwittingly slid backwards in a sudden surge of terror. The heat from the fire crawled up her spine. There was another heat as well. It knotted inside her, tight and hard. Why was she so afraid to let it go? She wanted to be perfect for him, to cater to his whims and wants, to please him. All she could do was kneel there, feeling inadequate.

His sensuous voice slipped around her, telling her he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d use her well, but it would be nothing she didn’t want. His voice chased away the worst of her fear. She was safe with this Master. She felt it. She also felt the beast inside him, a beast that could consume her so easily. Yet, he held it in check... for her sake. His consideration amazed her, enthralled her. At the same time it professed the depth of his honor. Still, the potency of that beast’s sexual appetite came at her in waves, sucking her into an abyss of consummate passion. She wanted the beast to take her. At the same time, she wanted to run.

The door stood open behind him. She could run if she wished. Her body refused to move, and the slave didn’t know if her paralysis came from fear or passion. He must have sensed her conflicting emotions for he closed the door. He didn’t lock it though. The choice was hers whether to stay or go. He had told her that. And, the slave didn’t want to go. She wanted to submit. It was a conscious submission, a willing one. Her thighs spread further. Her nipples became turgid buds. Her nether juices threatened to run onto her thighs. She could say nothing; her voice was but a knot in her throat.

He didn't speak either. This wasn’t the time for words. Instead, he came to her with a purposeful stride. Unlike the slave, the Master didn’t hesitate to take what he wanted. He pulled the slave to him with a roughness that evoked desire rather than fear. This was where she belonged. Her body knew this, even if her mind refused to comprehend. She expected him to claim her instantly. It wasn’t to be. With skilled fingers he touched her forehead and nose, the line of her neck the tender pout of her mouth, the edge of her jaw. It was as if he had struck a match. Fire blazed inside her, consuming her. The unexpected gentleness sending her into an abyss of desire that nearly had her screaming for release. When his finger moved over her mouth, she caught it and pulled it in, sucking it as if it were his shaft, imagining it was his shaft.

His free hand ran a pattern over her breasts and stomach, feathery caresses that left her moaning and breathless. He pulled his finger away and she followed, unwilling to release his tasty flesh. Suddenly, the finger was gone replaced by his mouth. It claimed hers with a force never before experienced. He ravaged her inner regions with deliberate lashes of his tongue, before creating a sucking vacuum that turned her knees to rubber and her heat to fiery desire. His dominance took her to new levels of ecstasy. She returned the kiss as thoroughly as she knew how. First with hesitation, then with growing ardor, trying desperately to match his ravenous appetite, pressing into him, submitting in a way that took her totally out of the real world.

His hands started to roam, massaging her tender flesh as he squeezed her breasts and buns. The pain prodded fires the slave wasn’t even aware she possessed. The Master’s lips fell to her neck, nibbling, biting softly, and then soothing the bites with tender kisses.... Pleasure, infinitesimal pain, entwined, erotically, sensuously. The slave thought she would explode into tiny fragments. In a distant part of her mind, fear still reigned. How far would he go? Would he force her to do that which she didn’t want? Just what did she want? OhGodohgodohgod... the thought came in a continuous stream. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be here.

But his dark passion imprisoned her. She didn’t have the strength to leave. God forgive her, she never wanted to leave. His hands moved to her shoulders and he pushed her downward into a kneeling position. When did he remove his clothes? she thought, realizing he wore nothing. She asked permission to touch his rigid rod. He nodded consent. It was why he had made her kneel. She had a little skill at this, raw skill that was born of instinct never taught. She caressed and stroked, gently at first, then harder as she become more sure of herself. His fingers were in her hair, pushing her face forward. A pink tongue ran around her lips as hunger curled inside. She whispered a plea. He answered by places his maleness against her lips. Fear once again raised its chilly barrier. She told fear to shut up!

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, then allowed her tongue to dart forward, touching his shaft. Another explosion of heat ripped through her. She closed her eyes and explored further, licking the sides of his hard shaft, the moist cleft, and his entire throbbing length. Finally, her mouth closed around his length, she sucked, started to move back and forth, prayed that this gave the Master the pleasure that his very presence gave her. The fingers in her hair tensed. His entire body tensed. Delicate hands ran over his thighs to his buns as she pulled herself close to better engulf him. She continued to stroke and lick, to suck and stimulate. He suddenly pulled away, breaths coming in tattered increments, his control amazingly intact.

She moved away from him, sat on the floor, wondering why he had stopped. He yanked her upward, pulled her against his hard chest and kissed her again before moving toward the dresser. He yanked off the blindfold so she could see the fire in his eyes. He picked up the manacles. Their gazes clashed. His asked a question. Hers displayed terror. Was she ready? She didn’t know, but held out her wrists anyway. He surprised her again, by turning her around and fastening her hands behind her back, then he took her to the bed and placed her over his lap.

His textured palms caressed her buns with such gentle persuasion that her tension oozed away. At the moment she released a sigh, he smacked her tender flesh. She gasped, wondering why she didn't expect this, wondering why it felt so good. Again, his strong hand connected with soft skin. The first time it stung; this time it burned. Then he rubbed the burn away with gentle caresses. After an endless cycle of this taunting pleasure, she felt juices develop between her thighs and felt such heated embarrassment that he could produce passion no matter what he chose to do with her.

Finally, he gathered her up and held her close, cooing softly, stroking her hair, easing her fears. Something broke inside her, and she knew he reached her heart. She loved him. She didn't want to for he could never love her in return. He was a Master, cold-hearted she had heard, someone who'd never love, never care, yet she felt loved at this moment. Felt cared for. She stared to dose despite her warmed buns, but he roused her quickly enough for he wasn't finished with her.

He buried his head between her thighs, lashing her swollen bud with his tongue. The pleasure was too acute and she felt herself coming instantly, shattering on waves of pain and delight. He sucked the juices from her, making the contractions go on and on, then he laid down beside her and pulled her on top of him, forcing the slave to straddle his hips. She felt his hardness between her thighs and before she could even comprehend what he had intended, he was inside her. She gasped at the impact, and it took her a moment to adjust to his size. She had never felt such tension, such fire. She had never felt anything at all like this. The Master showed her how to move, urging her to find a rhythm and to maintain it. He touched her breasts, massaging gently at first, then getting rougher, pinching her nipples, not hard enough to make her whimper, just enough to make her totally aware of his domination. He elicited sensations that the slave had never known, sensations she never wanted to forget.

For long, delicious moments she moved above him. Incredibly, he became harder with each stroke. He kept rubbing spots that made her forget everything except this yearning, this need. She wanted. She wanted. She reached for fulfillment, fearing she wouldn’t obtain it, fearing he wouldn’t last. She experienced that so many times in the past. She needed have worried. The Master wasn’t about to disappoint her.

He lasted longer than she had thought possible, and he didn’t take her just one way. After several minutes of her on top, he flung her to the mattress and entered her again, pumping harder and harder with each stroke. Her world kept fragmenting. She moaned under the assault and didn’t want it to end. Next, he turned her over and entered her from behind. She wasn’t sure of this position. It scared her. It always scared her, but now there was gentleness to his stroke as if he recognized her fear. His hands caressed her buttock. He whispered tender words of encouragement. The heat returned. Fear receded, but not totally. It was still there, always there, just at the edges of her consciousness. But it no longer interfered. She let things go inside her. She let the Master totally dominate her and take her past barriers that had been in place all too long. Finally, she shattered against him, calling his name on a tattered whisper. He came soon after.

Sprawled across the bed, it took several minutes to focus. She didn’t think he’d stay, but he did, taking her into his arms, cradling her against him as she fought against tides of panic and fear, as she tried not to feel guilty, as she clung to her Master’s strength and accepted his protection and caring. In turn, she handed him perhaps not all her trust, but decisively her body, her heart, her love.


We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at with blog in the subject line and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.

Angelica Hart and Zi

STEEL EMBRACE by Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
August 2011


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