Setting your Limits

By Erykah Wyck

There has been so much talk and controversy lately about BDSM. Some good and some bad. So many women have read a certain book (one which I will not name here for it doesn’t need my free advert) and they say they want a man just like that hero. But those who might be termed vanilla might wish to learn more about BDSM before allowing someone to whip them. Saying to your husband I read this seen and it was so hot, isn’t always a wise decision.

There are so many places to start. Safe words, color signals all important but what about your limits. Do you know them?  If you are new to lifestyle, it’s doubtful. And what do you do when a soft limit becomes a hard limit?

Soft Limit: A limit that the Submissive or the Dominant set. And altho

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ugh this is a limit now you might be interested in changing it at some point.

Hard Limit: Absolute no. This is a place that you have no interest in going or trying. These may be limits set by medical reasons. This is a deal breaker. 

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Each person’s limits might be different for some their hard limit is someone else’ssoft limit.  For me a hard limit is anything involving mutilation, needles, piercings, or blades. But for some that’s a soft limit.   What you need to do is research what you want to do with your partner. If your partner is new to the lifestyle too then it’s even more important that they understand your limits and what they mean.  They need to make sure that they are doing things safely. It is both parties responsibility to keep the submissive safe.  There are classes out there to teach Dom’s their art.  It’s in everyone’s best interest to be the best they can be.

So what are your limits? Tell me and I'll give one commenter a book from my backlist!

Don’t You Love Second Chances?

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By L.C. Dean

An opportunity to embrace things missed or forgotten the first time around. The hope of something bigger and better. A second chance to find exactly what you needed but didn’t know about until it was too late. Sounds good doesn’t it?

I had that opportunity with my characters Jet and Ink. Beautiful Ink was written with the sole intention of exploring an erotic encounter between a local and a vendor at the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. I never expected it to be anything more. But Jet walked away with so much potential for love and Ink had such a need for a man like him in her life. I had to see if Madame Eve could help Jet get around Ink’s defensive walls and discover the woman buried beneath the tattoo artist.

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Blurb:

Jet Ryan’s haunted by the memory of one night in the arms of a sexy tattoo artist who pushed all the right buttons before she shoved him out of her life. No one else seems to measure up. He needs her out of his system or in his life, preferably the later. But, he’ll settle for one more night with her or a reasonable facsimile as long as he can touch her again.

Ink Monroe avoids expectations that might get her hopes up, doesn’t believe in endless possibilities, and has absolutely no room in her life for a guy who wants to take care of her. But damn, it would be nice to have all those things for a little while. So when a customer gives her a business card for a woman named Madame Eve, she asks for a man to solidify the hazy memory of a single night of passion followed by the best night of sleep she’d had in years.

Both have tall orders for a single evening of passion, but one night can lead to endless possibilities. Madame Eve promised.

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Excerpt:

“Hello?” She looked around but there didn’t seem to be anyone there. A breeze filtered through the screen leading to a balcony. She opened it and stepped out, breathing deeply of the pine-scented air.

Then she saw him. A long lean cowboy type stretched out in a cushioned chair, boots propped on the railing. Sleep softened what would otherwise be a rugged face. Wheat colored hair fell over his forehead and brushed his shoulders. Gold-tipped lashes hid his eyes. Unable to resist studying him as she had his truck, she moved closer, eager to see what kind of man Madame Eve had sent.

A crisp white button-up, opened slightly at the throat, covered his broad thick chest and disappeared beneath snug jeans. His narrow hips contrasted sharply with the width of his shoulders and long legs seemed to go on forever. His boots had been polished to a fine sheen, but they bore the signs of wear. Everything about him looked solid, reliable…safe. A shiver ran through her. What would it be like to awaken in his strong arms, pillowed on a chest made hard by work? The thought tantalized with the impossible. To be as well-cared for as his boots or his vehicle, to be appreciated scars and all, it would be a fantasy beyond even Madame Eve’s talent.

Still, she wanted it. For at least one night she wanted to be worthy of such tender care.

She hadn’t bothered to read his profile. The 1NS service had sent it to her, but she didn’t want to know. She’d asked them not to send hers either, but she had no idea if they’d done so. Expectations led to disappointment and could distort the appreciation of reality. Though she doubted the man stretched before her was anything but what he seemed—deliciously sexy and rock steady.

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