Saturday, July 19, 2014

In the Spotlight: Emily Tilton


 When Professor John
Dunn moves to Corbin's Bend, hoping to live the spanking-centered BDSM
lifestyle for which he has always yearned, he gets more than he
bargained for when his brilliant student Sarah Harshaw sets out to
seduce him. Sarah, in turn, gets much more than she bargained for when
she finds herself taken in hand, and loving it. Both John and Sarah know
that their torrid D/s relationship is wrong, but both also know that
they have found in the other a true partner not just erotically, but
intellectually as well.
Will their love survive the trials that
inevitably befall it when Sarah's parents find out, and confront John?
Can Sarah convince John that she knew what she was doing when she
entered his office even though wearing his collar wasn't in her
game-plan?


https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22130166-sarah-s-tutorial



She had come there with the
expectation of having a little fun with him: there was nothing malicious in the
impulse, but her experiences with boys, especially with Fred, had left her
dissatisfied in a way that made her–and she knew this even as she for example
put her hand on his crotch–go against her own nature, and try to take control.
Really she did it just so someone would be in control, and it wouldn't just be
fumbling around and tentatively touching places that one thought were probably erogenous.
Her purpose was to enjoy that kind of control over this nice middle-aged man
from the East Coast, with his beautiful manners and his kind air and his
handsome face. She wanted to give him a blowjob, frankly, because she liked
driving Fred crazy that way and she wanted to do the same thing to Dr. Dunn.

The problem was at the same time she
realized she wanted more from him–wanted the aforesaid disclosures, closeness,
caresses–she also began to realize the power of this fast-growing attachment
was not just in what she had always thought of as the romantic realm. This
attachment had some other power, a power she had never actually felt, but
only–from time to time–imagined, and then, much more often, avoided thinking
about in any detail at all.

What was it? Well, for starters, it
was unfortunately the hottest, sexiest feeling she had ever had in her life,
and her loins responded as they never had to a real person before. The romantic
stuff was nice, and when Fred─and the two boys she dated seriously before
Fred–touched her breasts, and even put their hands in her panties, she very
much liked the sensation, and moistened at their touch–and one of the ones
before Fred had brought her to a climax once that way. Fred never had, and
she'd actually grown pretty adept at faking it, or at least at making him think
that it was time to take his hand out of her panties. But the problem now
confronting her was that what Dr. Dunn said–just his words, only touching her
chin–made her panties wetter than they had ever been in her life in the
presence of another person.

 




"High-School and College as an Anal Submissive"

Really not very hot. Very few boyfriends;
no penetration until late senior year. Lots of reading, lots of self-abuse.

The narrative mechanics of
fantasy-Emily's life in EXPLORATIONS shorten this period to a few months: my
conceit there is that fantasy-Emily was an anal-submissive powder-keg that
finally went off a few months before her wedding to fantasy-Charles; that she'd
had the fantasies, and masturbated to them, but that she had never come across
erotic material (ha!) until she caught her first glimpse of a lace thong in a
Victoria's Secret window. That thong produced, for fantasy-Emily, I elaborate
in
Emily's First Submission, a sort of pornographic cascade effect.

Here--I'll let her tell you in her own
words.

I don't know how
I managed to avoid seeing things like my bridal panties until I was 18; all I
know is that suddenly the world seemed to be full of all these pictures, and
pieces of clothing, and websites, and books that corresponded to the shameful
things I'd imagined in my bed at night and sometimes (for I'd been told that
touching myself was wicked) couldn't resist playing with my young, virginal
pussy while I thought about, and even putting a hand under my bottom and
touching my bottomhole.

After the thong
came the porn: lots of it. And then, finally, Story of O. I had thrown all the moral lessons of my first eighteen
years to the wind; I was masturbating anally four or five times a day or more;
I ordered a butt-plug; I seduced my best friend and shaved her pussy; and
that's how I got into the shameful situation in which you see me at the start
of Emily's Submissive Wedding Night, abusing
myself in the bathroom of my honeymoon suite when I should have been going to
please my bridegroom. Thank goodness
for Charles and his dominance and willingness to discipline me!

Not strictly believable, I suppose, but
given that so many of my D/s fantasies revolve around innocence, and there's so
little innocence left in the world today, it works for me.

This (high-school and most of college)
was the epoch when the terrible books, as I think of them, the ones like
Aphrodizzia,
dominated my fantasy-life. So, as a passage in one of those books literally
(I'm pretty sure) reads, "Bottom, bottom, bottom, bottom" (if I
recall correctly, some authority figure is landing cuts of a cane on, you
guessed it, a schoolgirl bottom).






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