This week I premiere my first author interview. And my spotlight shines on Mischa Eliot.
I thank the universe for the day I virtually met Mischa. I soon learned she was my writer twin. She is a vivacious redhead with a sassy side, like me. We laugh at the same things. The first time we talked on the phone, my family wanted to know why they weren't invited to the party! It was LOUD. We most definitely celebrated.
When liked minded people come together especially if they talk sex, wondrous things happen. She is one of my favorite sexy people, and I wanted to share her awesomeness with you! Enjoy her interview and the lovely, smutty stories she writes. ~Dr. J.~
Q: Who are you?
Mischa Eliot, aka M. J. Spencer. By day I work in an office daydreaming about smutty storylines to type out in the evening.
Q: What are your favorite storylines to write?
I enjoy writing stories where people come together. I like finding out why they are together, how they got there, and what they get out of it.
Q: When did you start your writing?
I’ve been writing for years… I used to play RPG in the old AOL Red Dragon Inn ages ago. It taught me how to write fast and on the fly, creating and weaving stories together with good friends.
Q: Where are you most in touch with your muse?
Sitting outside at the park or on the front steps. I also enjoy sipping coffee at a café and typing like a cliché occasionally. Sometimes, at 3 in the morning I’ll be found typing an idea out on my phone, hoping I’ll be able to decipher it in the morning.
Q: Why erotica?
Everyone who doesn’t write erotica thinks it’s easy to write. Until they try. Then they realize there’s more behind two characters having sex. Erotica is a difficult genre to truly write in if you want it to be more than sex. You’ve got to know the characters and why they’re getting together. The most intimate way to know someone is to sleep with them. Are they slow and gentle or fast and furious? Do they like their hair being pulled and being spanked or do they want to be caressed and kissed until they can’t take anymore?
Q: How would your writing experience help a younger you?
I would tell my younger self to keep writing, keep imagining. Even if things aren’t going well, writing can help.
Q: Anything else you want fans to know?
I appreciate the people who read my stories and I hope they continue to enjoy them.
Thank you, Mischa.
Here are the links where you can find Mischa Eliot/MJ Spencer:
Follow her on Twitter for sexy banter!
As MJ Spencer on Tumblr
Mischa Eliot Author Page on Facebook
Check her out on SMASHWORDS
Visit her AMAZON Author Page for her erotic collections.
This is a continuation of last week's story, Bondage and a Blindfold with Ella and J.B.
Holy hell. I plastered myself to the wall by the door, holding my cock. Ella’s bound body splayed out on the bed. Her rapid breathing forced her breasts up and down and made me harder. Those cuffed wrists contained fidgeting fingers at the headboard. My sexual urges amazed me. Ankles bound with that spreader. Pink was her color.
Ella had allowed my fantasy to come true, but she had caught me off guard with her surprise. I slipped out to the kitchen to find some tools to accomplish my goals.
I surveyed the room. From the utensil jar by the stove, I grabbed a silicone spatula and a tool with prongs. I snagged the lone orange in the fruit bowl before I snatched a rose from the vase. My plan emerged while I gathered my implements. Waiting would charge Ella up, so I got myself a drink.
Fifteen minutes later, with my supplies in hand, I went back to her.
From the doorway, she looked like a butterfly. Captured, she lightly fluttered and then when stilled her beauty amplified. I had waited so long for this. My dick attempted to run the show. It wanted her, now. However, I wanted the whole experience, the scene I had created. I planned to tease her, taste her, and make her insane with my touch. Then I’d fuck her.
“You are making me crazy.”
“That’s the idea?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Exactly what I’ve always said. I’m going to devour you.”
Placing my implements on the bed, I took the orange in hand. As I peeled it, the citrus scent burst forth through the air.
“Are you taking a snack break, J.B.?”
“Only to snack on you.”
Holding the newly peeled orange in one hand, I squeezed and then dripped the juice across her breasts, down her stomach to her pubic bone.
“It tickles, J.B.”
I loved seeing the lines of juice cascading down her body mapping the path for my tongue and lips.
“Ella, stick out your tongue. I want you to fuck the orange, baby.” I lined up the hole around the segments at the end of her pointy tongue. She shoved it in and out with gusto. I pressed the orange against her mouth, and she pushed her tongue in further. The juice dribbled down her chin.
“That’s you and me, baby. Fucking hard and dripping.”
“Mmmm, J.B. I want you.”
I dropped the orange onto the bed and moved over to taste her juicy lips. My tongue invaded her mouth. Our giving and receiving had become indistinguishable. My sucking action pulled her head off the bed. My tongue swirled out of her mouth, around her lips and then her chin. I kissed her wet skin as I moved down her neck. Her moans lit me up.
Ella’s perky nipples, drizzled in juice, tantalized me. I gathered up her breasts in both hands and rubbed my face on her mounds and kissed her hard peaks. The cuffs clanked against the bedframe’s metal as her body rose up to every single touch.
“Oh, J.B. Never thought it’d get this intense.”
I raised her legs straight up with the spreader bar. Her enticing ass and luscious pussy belonged to me.
Toy time. As I held the spreader at my chest, I raked the prongs down one leg, across her ass cheeks then up the other leg. Her gasps pushed me forward. I relished the lines striping her skin. With the rose and I repeated my course. Breathy humming spoke to me of her need.
“Bend your knees.” I pushed the bar back with one hand, and she opened up to me.
Tasting her became my goal. Owning her became my mission.
Kneeling between Ella’s legs, I rubbed my scruffy chin across the inside of her right thigh. Her squirming began. Marking Ella, consumed my thoughts. She was mine. When I nuzzled her left leg, Ella’s ass lifted off the bed, and her pussy lips lined up perfectly with my mouth. I licked her vulva and sucked the lips. I pressed my teeth against her clit and as I sucked in vibrating on her and she began moaning. Relentless, my mouth pleasured her everywhere.
“J.B., I’m so close.”
“Not yet, baby. I’m still firing you up.”
I picked up the red, silicone spatula. Using its thin edge, I drew a circle on Ella’s ass. I kissed her in the center of it.
“What was that, J.B.?”
“That’s for me to know and you to feel.” She groaned. “Ella, how do you like anticipation, now?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Don’t mess with a master. You made me wait a long time to get you bound up like this.”
“I was trying to make it good, J.B. I wanted you to have this.”
“Does it feel good, El?”
“You know that it does.”
“It’s just going to get better. You did make me wait. That means it’s punishment time.”
Ella loved toys, and she was hypersensitive when she didn’t know what was coming. That was exactly where I wanted her.
I inserted two fingers in her channel and pushed them upward with a steady beat.
“Yes, J.B., yes.”
As her dripping pussy coated my lips and tongue, I rubbed the flat portion of the spatula in circles on her butt. Her quivering stomach turned me on. I was eager to see a rosy ass.
I stood up to straighten her legs and stuck my head under the spreader. I placed it behind my neck. What a perfect angle to swat her behind and fuck her. I stroked her clit with my fingers.
“Ella, you are getting six strokes on your butt. Three on each side.” I pinched her nub.
“With your hand?” Her shaky voice told me she was holding the orgasm back. The excited unknown kept her on edge.
“No, darlin’. With my newest sex toy.” I grinned staring right at the spatula. “And then I’m going to drill you with my cock. I say when you come.”
“Yeah, yeah, baby.”
With each smack, the spatula stung her ass building the intensity with each square mark. Ella transformed the energy of my strokes and channeled it into her desire. Her vulva swelled as the scents in the room amplified, our arousal and the orange. Her whimpering and panting alerted me. I spanked her for the last time, rubbed the spot, and then wiggled my fingers through her hot, wet folds.
“Come for me, baby.”
With that last touch, her orgasm ignited. I buried my cock deep inside her. Her legs shook around my neck. My balls slammed on her ass, over and over. I drew her hips back to me as I pounded, and her hands popped off the headboard. I ground into her shooting off while her orgasmic screams filled the room.
When Ella stilled, I lifted the spreader off my shoulders and unfastened her legs. Easing down on the bed, I unclipped the cuffs. Beside her, I stroked her hair and kissed her face. Ella. She was the woman who trusted me, heart and soul. I slipped her blindfold off.
“J.B. you were right. It is intense without sight. I want to see the spanking toy.”
I chuckled and held up the spatula.
“My good cake spatula! Why did I spend money on the other stuff?”
“Baby, sometimes you make plans, and sometimes you plan at the moment.”
Ella rolled on top of me, smirking. She dangled the cuffs in my face.
“You know, J.B., I think you’d look pretty in pink.”
His favorite sex scene in the movie had played and J.B, turned to me, agitated.
“I just want to tie you up, blindfold you, and tease you until you can’t stand it. Is that too much to ask?”
The muscle in his jaw popped. He stood as the sexual need surged through his body.
“No, baby.” I crossed my legs and pinched my desire together. “Go look under the bed.”
I’m pretty sure he expected my usual, “no,” but my request didn’t fit the moment. J.B.’s pained expression touched me. I had yet to agree to bondage and a blindfold, but I knew it was important to him.
“J.B., I think you’ll like it. Just look.”
I had wondered how I would share my secret. The timing was perfect. We had been lying together on the sofa watching J.B.’s favorite movie. I throbbed between my legs, thinking about my surprise. I hoped J.B would humor me.
He looked defeated when he walked over to the end of the bed. He pulled up the dust ruffle and peered underneath. I hoped he would be pleased with my initiative. I knew he wanted this.
When I discovered his computer search, his wish was clear and in vivid colors. He had looked at blue handcuffs but had marked the page with pink ones that included a spreader bar and a blindfold. I’d been reluctant. The idea of giving up control spooked me. I wanted to allow J.B. to be in charge of my pleasure. I wanted to give him that gift. Would my gesture make the impression I intended?
He pulled the box out and gazed back at me.
I didn’t recognize that look. J.B.’s entire body had filled with lust and spoke to all my places south. There was joy etched on his face, and it seared my heart.
“Get on the bed, Ella.”
His voice sounded so different, earthy and raw. His fingers tightened on the box.
I rose hurriedly, attempting to steady my breathing. The excitement, curiosity, and my arousal pushed me forward.
Standing before him, I bit my lip as I stared into his beautiful face. When I moved toward the bed, he grabbed my wrist.
That one word set the stage. J.B. wasn’t asking. It was a command. My stomach fluttered, my heart thudded, and my hands shook. My panties became soaked. That in-charge voice told me I was going into the unknown.
“I’m not sure who will enjoy this more, Ella.”
The temperature in the room rose. As I undressed, J.B. opened the box and retrieved the contents. My taut nipples accompanied the full ache throughout my pelvis. Maybe, unconsciously, I had wanted this.
I sat on the edge of the bed and J.B. squatted at my knees. His steady hands rested on my thighs, brushing his thumbs back and forth on my skin. He was priming me for what was to come. I don’t think I have ever craved him before, but this was something else.
“Thank you, Ella. Tonight is about me giving you pleasure. It’s what I’ve wanted. And when you orgasm—”
That muscle in his face flexed, again.
“That orgasm will be mine.”
“I’m going to cuff your hands and then your feet. Concentrate on the sensations you feel. Okay?”
With silicone cuffs attached to my wrists and clipped them together, I was his. J.B. inserted his finger between my skin and the cuff, rubbing my skin. I didn’t expect that I would be hyper-sensitive there, but I was. He lifted my hands and kissed each palm. His warm breath sent signals to my body, like a private conversation. Every part of me listened. Tonight, I wanted to make his fantasy come true.
“Crawl up to the headboard, lie on your back. Do it slowly, Ella, so that I can enjoy your lovely ass and dripping pussy.”
My breath caught in my throat as his gravelly voice assailed my senses. I stood up and put my bound palms on the sheet. As I placed my knee on the bed, I wiggled my butt. The groan from J.B. sealed the deal. His hands landed on my ass, and he kneaded my cheeks while I crawled up the bed. His touch drew a new desire from me, and left a suggestion of his intended pleasure.
I rolled over and settled onto the bed.
“Wrap both hands around one of the headboard spindles.”
I looked over my head and grabbed the metal rod with both hands. “Is this how you want me, J.B.?”
He gazed over my body. “Yes. Beautiful.”
J.B. pulled his shirt over his head and pushed his pants down his legs. Male perfection. While I enjoyed his naked form, he traced a line with his finger from my ankle, up over my hipbone, between the hollow of my breasts and finally to my lips. Goosebumps followed his finger’s trail like sunflowers follow the sun.
“Suck my thumb.”
After one taste, I twirled my tongue around his finger, and he took charge. He explored my tongue, gums, and lips, awakening sensations, carnal cravings, I didn’t know I had. J.B. was good at this.
“I’m going to fasten the spreader and then the blindfold.”
He worked quickly, and when J.B. covered my eyes, I relished my last view. His hand was firmly attached to his hard cock, giving himself a slow stroke.
Urgent lips kissed mine. As our tongues touched, J.B. sucked mine into his mouth. This was a dance we had never danced before.
When he broke the kiss, I was lying in a pool of need. The air particles stirred and I swear I could feel each one landing on my skin inciting me to feel more.
In the darkness, my body throbbed as I anticipated J.B.’s next touch. I could feel his finger caressing the sheet as his hand rested by my ankle. Touch me, again. Kiss me, again.
“Waiting is an exceptional talent, Ella. I should know.”
He leaned over me. I inhaled the sexually charged scent of him. J.B. dragged his cock and balls over my shin and thigh, and I almost levitated off the bed. I was mesmerized by the sensations he induced.
J.B. chuckled and kissed my cheek. And then he left the room.
*Writer's Note: This story was the result of a lovely exchange with a friend. Enjoy, J.B. I do believe there is More to come.
Go see what J.B. gave Ella in Dripping.
A NON FICTION Selection On Writing.
Today, I was unsettled. I walked to clear my head and focus on a new story idea. I didn’t know it was a “walking meditation” until my aunt arrived at my side. I could have been traipsing down the grassy path to the pond of my youth, or the woodsy trail to the Big Rocks, at the creek, near the cemetery. But today, she and I walked on my new island path.
The last time I saw my Aunt, was in Spring 2006 before she died. She posed for me on an old brick pillar of the home house foundation surrounded by daffodils. I snapped her photograph. This past Friday, daffodils unexpectedly arrived in my life. Maybe they are responsible for the walking event and this writing lesson gift
As a child, when you visited your relatives, they gave cakes or cookies. Not with Aunt Virginia, her offering was the written word.
The words, the poem of the day, were always captured on an onion-skin carbon copy. I wish I had kept every piece of paper she gave me. Now, I find the poems printed in one of her fifteen books. They don’t hold the same energy as when she pulled the paper out of her typewriter and placed it into my hands. I knew then, they were important, but I have come to understand their significance, now.
Virginia never knew me as a writer because that occurred years after her death. But after my walk today, I wondered if she knew it would happen. Had I been in her writing class all those years? Did she know back then what would take me years to own?
Write. You have something to say.
So today, from my “kick in the pants” meditation, here are five points from her life lesson and the poem she picked for me.
1- Never doubt yourself. You have something to say. Be brave and say it.
2- Every day arrives with a clean, writing slate along with new thoughts and ideas. Pull one down from the universal consciousness and play with it. It was meant for you.
3-Sex is a primal, dirty, pleasurable, and a personal thing that we all can experience. Show it to us, Dr. J.
4-Listen to a story idea with an open heart. Take note of the life connection and the characters’ experience. If it resonates, then you have tapped into a universal truth. Give the account of it.
5-Embody the story. Feel it in your flesh, hold it in your heart, and then give it the words to fly.
Today’s lesson was based on her poem, Literary Footnote found in Stones of Silence
An early Irish triad
Three cardinal sorrows.
To mock a poet,
To love a poet,
To be a poet
Invites constant storm,
For over a half a century
I yearned to be a poet.
I was wrong, wrong, wrong!
Finally I have learned
I only need
To be the poem.
~Virginia Love Long~
This is #8 in the Service House Training Stories. It is a serial read. You can start from the beginning HERE.
Periwinkle arrived at her assigned room. Naked and pacing, she attempted to shake herself from the erotic storm she witnessed. The mixture of torment and lust between Orlando and Lowell was abundant. She was caught up in something. There was so much she didn’t know about being at Service House.
The door opened, and Julianna peeked in.
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to help you get ready for your session. How are you doing after that demonstration?”
“I’m wired. I’m not sure what is going on between those two or why I seem to be in the middle of it.”
Julianna patted the bed for Periwinkle to sit down. After she had settled on the bed, Julianna stroked her hair, careful not to touch her anywhere else. It soothed Periwinkle.
“Sometimes the testosterone surge is bigger than the both of them. But it will all work out.”
“I just want to have good teachers so I can be the best at service.”
“I understand Periwinkle. Sometimes the people mix is fascinating.”
“What do you mean?”
Julianna fidgeted for a moment.
“No one has explained it to you, Periwinkle.”
“Here at the House, you’re what we call an amplifier. Your presence amps up sexual energy. Feel the charge in the room? That’s you.”
“That’s why they are aggressive. Those men, they want more sensation. You can give them that.”
“I don’t understand, Julianna.”
“When we all start at Service House, sexual qualities are identified in each of us. I’m called a matcher. I can match the sexual intensity of anyone I touch. I can’t create it or amplify it, like you.”
Periwinkle studied her, thinking.
“How do you do that?”
“By a single well-placed touch.”
“Are you saying during my sexual arousal, if you touched me, my sexual energy becomes yours?”
“So, if I move into an intense sexual scene and you touch me, you match me with my experience.”
“So, if someone touches you, does he or she feel you and me?”
“Uh-huh. That’s the amplifying part. It just gets bigger. Do you want to see what it’s like before your session with Orlando?” Julianna was a pure pleasure seeker.
Periwinkle wondered if she would be punished for this, but she wanted a friend here, someone to talk to.
“Perfect. I want you to think about the session you just witnessed. Place yourself back in the room. Focus on the feelings.”
Periwinkle closed her eyes. It was as if her body was an old fashion thermometer. You could see her temperature rising. Color flushed her skin, and she sucked on her lip.
“Tell me, what is playing on your mind?”
“Their interaction, just now and…on the hardwood table in last week’s teaching session.”
“Yes, good,” said Julianna, admiring Periwinkle.
“Orlando perceives what Lowell wants and how to—”
“Either give it to him or frustrate him.”
“Yes, the need was great.”
“Who’s need, Periwinkle?”
She whispered, “Both of them.”
“Now, lie back, let me show you.”
Julianna desired an erotic jolt, but she knew it was too soon to touch Periwinkle, so she instructed instead.
“Put your hands on your breasts. Roll your nipples between your fingers.”
The words alone sent sexy shockwaves south. As Periwinkle worked her peaks, her breathing quickened. Julianna felt Periwinkle’s arousal building, and she craved it.
“Slide your feet up and drop your knees out. I want access to your wet folds.” The sheets crumpled as her feet dragged closer to her ass and then Periwinkle eased each leg out to the side.
“How are your nipples?”
Julianna hovered over Periwinkle, blowing on her skin but not touching her.
Julianna’s breath technique allowed Periwinkle to access her body memories. When Julianna blew on her nipples, Periwinkle remembered the night Orlando tied the ribbons to them. The attached weights pulled on her tips and made her needy, like now.
Julianna puckered her lips and sprayed warm air back and forth across Periwinkle’s stomach, and Periwinkle replayed the previous scene of the two men as their sexual chemistry surged. Her mouth dropped open with want.
As warm air passed by her ass cheeks, it called to mind Orlando’s butt plug insertion on their first night. Periwinkle clenched.
Moving up her body, Julianna lingered over Periwinkle’s face and then lightly breathed on her lips. It sent Periwinkle to teaching night. She had tasted Lowell’s cock as the magic wand vibrations exploded on her clit. That orgasm had been massive. The memory of sucking him came with all the body sensations.
“Oh, Periwinkle, you are so ready. I’m going to—”
“Julianna, what are you doing?”
Master Lowell’s loud voice boomed from the doorway, and then the door slammed behind him. Julianna jumped off the bed and assumed her training position.
Periwinkle re-lived an all too familiar low-riding ache. Why was this happening, again? She attempted to sit up to her assigned training position.
“Stay where you are, Periwinkle.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Julianna. Go to Room F and tell the attendant to follow the procedures for unauthorized sexual intent.”
“Yes, Master Lowell.”
“I will be in later.”
The door closed behind Julianna without any sound. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room leaving only the sexual tension of Periwinkle’s body. She was a hyper-sensitive mess, radiating a sexual need she had never felt before.
“Periwinkle, open your eyes.” When she did, she spotted Master Lowell crouched at the end of the bed between her legs.
“Your need, little one, it is tapping into mine.” Those words and his gaze reactivated her sexual desire, exactly where Julianna left off.
“When my fingers enter your channel, and my thumb touches your clit, you will experience our raw sexual energy, and you will instantly orgasm.”
He rose and puffed his breath over each nipple, then down her abdomen, and to her sex. All of the memories brought forth with Julianna swirled in her mind again. As promised, when Lowell’s touched her, an orgasm ignited. It was a pleasure beyond any she had experienced, and she soared.
Lowell draped a piece of silk material across her body.
“This is your gift. It has absorbed all your pleasure.” He caressed her foot, and his fingers lingered.
Overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings, Periwinkle clutched the silk as Lowell left the room. She knew he was headed to Julianna.