Tuesday, May 4, 2010
National Leather Association
Because SM-BD excites Jardonn and Jasper, and because one of our frothing authors, James Buchanan, got a nod from this high-profile organization, I'm spreading the news.
(Columbus, OH) -- National Leather Association: International, a leading organization for activists in the pansexual leather community, announced the 2009 winners of its annual awards for excellence in SM/leather/fetish writing at its Annual General Meeting at Tribal Fire in Oklahoma City, OK on 2 May 2010.
The winner of the Cynthia Slater Non-fiction Article Award is Gloria Brame, "Transformation and Transcendence in BDSM," which appeared in *Filthy Gorgeous Things, *July 2009, the "Force" issue (available at: http://filthygorgeousthings.com/) in which Brame presented fresh insights on an old topic. Jeff Mann's "How to be a Country Leather Bear," which appeared in Richard Labonté and Lawrence Schimel (eds.), *Second Person Queer: Who You Are (So Far),* published by* *Arsenal Pulp Press, received the honorable mention.
The winner of the Geoff Mains Non-fiction Book Award is *Ask the Man Who Owns Him: The Real Lives of Gay Masters and slaves *(Perfectbound Press), in which david stein and collaborator David Schachter explore Master/slave relationships through the experiences of several successful couples. The honorable mention went to The Two Knotty Boys for *Two Knotty Boys Back on the Ropes* (Green Candy), a superb follow-up to their previous book on rope bondage, *Two Knotty Boys Showing You the Ropes* (Green Candy, 2006).
The winner of the Pauline Reage Novel Award is Claire Thompson for *Submission Times Two *(Romance Unbound), which chronicles the search by two submissive men for a shared master and the three-way relationship that ensues.
The honorable mention went to James Buchanan for *Hard Fall *(MLR Press),* *which explores a man's struggle to reconcile his religious faith with his sexual identity and interest in SM activities while he investigates a mysterious death.
The winner of the Anthology Award is *Like a Thorn: An Anthology of BDSM Fairy Tales* (Circlet Press)*,* a superb collection of stories assembled by editors Cecilia Tan and Sarah Desautels. Each story revisits an old fairy tale and retells it with a dark, erotic twist. The honorable mention went to Rachel Kramer Bussel for *Bottoms Up: Spanking Good Stories* (Cleis Press), a diverse collection of twenty stories that approach spanking from every conceivable angle.
The winner of the John Preston Short Fiction Award is Kieran Wyn Dewhurst for "The Last Mistress of the Chatelaine," which appeared in Cecilia Tan and Sarah Desautels (eds.), *Like a Thorn: An Anthology of BDSM Fairy Tales*(Circlet Press). A dark, erotic story like the others in the collection, it presents a delightful twist in a hot, engaging SM story. The honorable mention went to Jack Fritscher's "Goodbye Saigon," a great tale of rough trade that appeared in Phillip Mackenzie, Jr. (ed.), *Special Forces: Gay
Military Erotica* (Cleis Press).
Nominations for the 2010 awards will open later this year.
Congratulations to all the authors, and particularly to James Buchanan.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Vote in the annual LRC Awards
Voting for the LRC's "Best of 2009" Awards begins on FEBRUARY 15th and ends on FEBRUARY 22nd.
I’m up for three
The Edge of Desperation (Jason Edding and James Buchanan-MLR)
James Buchanan
Personal Demons (James Buchanan-MLR)
To vote:
Email dawn_roberto AT yahoo DOT com with "LRC's "BEST OF 2009" Awards" in subject. If this is not in the subject it will not be counted. You are to vote from the nominee list on your pick. The list will be up in our loop files under "LRC Best of award nominees 2009".
All entries are to be in by 2/23/2010. Any entries received after that will NOT be counted and automatically deleted.
Here’s a NWS Excerpt from Beyond Duty in Edge of Desperation
Excerpt:
Qc4, Pc7, P1, D2
04:28hr
Alad woke smelling guy. Actually one guy, right up in his face. A deep breath drew in scents of the previous night's horizontal calisthenics. He yawned and felt a soft prick slide against his cheek. That rated opening his eyes. Oh yeah, right there, Hirah's cock lay soft against Hirah's furry thigh. Of course, pisk, how did he end up crammed down at the bottom of the bunk? These racks weren't made with his bulk in mind. At least his bulk plus a lean lieutenant.
With a quick glance, Alad checked the chrono panel. He had about twenty clicks before he and Ninda sprang their little surprise on the troops. Just enough time for a real reveille. Alad blew across Hirah's prick. Hirah mumbled something and shifted.
Alad moved in closer, sucked that soft, warm skin into his mouth. He heard Hirah grunt and felt his leg go tense. Alad kept sucking. Nothing equaled feeling Hirah's prick swelling between his lips. Hirah's hands ran over his skull, pushing him down. Alad took him deep, licking and sucking the meat in his mouth, until Hirah's cock was at attention.
"Seppe!" Hips bucking into the kiss, Hirah groaned out, "Swing that aft end over here. That's an order."
No way would he ignore a direct order—especially not one that promised what Hirah's did. Still swallowing Hirah's prick, Alad got up on his hands and knees. Hirah tugged on his legs as Alad shuffled over. Then it was Alad's turn to moan as Hirah sucked Alad's aching prick into his mouth. They worked each other hard, almost like it was a race to see who could make who blow first. The back of Alad's thighs frosted over with chills.
Hirah broke off a moment. Alad groaned again when a spit slick thumb pressed against his hole. He shuddered under the dual sensation of getting finger fucked while Hirah nuzzled his balls.
Alad sucked harder. He reveled in the feel of Hirah's prick sliding over his tongue. The musky taste rated higher than any wakeup juice on the market. Heat built in his gut as Hirah pumped his ass and started sucking on his cock again. The whole thing melded together into one massive ball of pleasure sparking through him. It didn't take long, not that early in the morning. Alad shook. He pulled off Hirah's prick and groaned. Hirah swallowed him as Alad's balls let loose.
A few quick breaths and Alad recovered his wits. He sucked Hirah down with determination. Bracing himself of his elbows, with one hand Alad massaged Hirah's sac. The other matched the pace of his mouth along Hirah's thick cock. Arching his back, Hirah jerked off the mattress. He hissed out, "Fuck!" as cum boiled out of his cock. Alad gagged for a second and then caught his breath. He swallowed all that thick, bitter spunk.
Panting, Alad dropped onto his side and then rolled onto his back. Give him that kind of wakeup juice every morning and Alad'd die happy. ‘Course, he couldn't stay there and revel. Alad looked over at the chrono again. Three clicks before Ninda came looking for his ass. Alad grunted and sat up. Yawning, he ran one hand over the fuzz carpeting his scalp. That he followed with a spine popping stretch.
As he swung out of the bunk, Hirah slapped his ass and asked, "What's the roster for the morning look like?"
Alad scrounged for his gray short-sleeved tee and light-weight fatigues. He'd stashed a set in Hirah's quarters the night before. "Ninda and I—" He found the fatigues first, stepped into them and yanked the pants up over his ass before continuing. "Scheduled a physical training endurance-formation run."
"Sounds like a walk in the park." Hirah swung his legs over the bunk and rolled his neck. "Time to rattle and wake 'em?"
As he jerked the shirt over his head, Alad asked, "You're coming?"
"Wouldn't miss it." Hirah slapped Alad's thigh and then hit the button popping his rack back up into the ceiling recess. "Need to keep fit."
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Lot
A little holiday treat for you all
© 2008 James Buchanan
If Kyle heard one more go round of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,” he would step out into traffic. Sorry, no, Southern California…it didn’t look anything at all like Christmas. No snow except for the blown on fake shit in the flocking tent. With midday highs hitting eighty degrees, the only gloves in evidence were Kyle’s cheap canvas and leather work gloves. A hazy brown evening sky hovered around the tops of bone dry mountains. It made the Christmas trees and twinkling lights seem like a cheap hooker’s overwrought make-up…no matter how you looked at it, how well it was done, you just knew it covered something pretty trashy.
Kyle gritted his teeth and went after the bottom branches on the Noble Fir with a vengeance. Nothing like a four foot long set of loppers to get the I’m-not-in-the-holiday-spirit aggression out.
“Wait!” His customer’s cartoon feminine voice cut down his spine. It had only been, maximum, twenty minutes that he’d been subjected to the helium wonder of her words and Kyle already ached to use the loppers on her vocal cords.
Kyle plastered on the cheery customer service smile he’d perfected waiting tables before he turned. “Yes, ma’am?”
She pouted with an aging Valley Girl hip cock and a finger pressed to her bottom lip. “Do you have to take so much off the bottom?”
Fighting to keep the smile from slipping, Kyle stared over her shoulder and sang a refrain of “Hey Santa” in his head. The only song ever to combine Santa and cunt in the same sentence usually managed to keep Kyle from slipping into a postal wig-out.
Beyond Miss Annoying Voice, among the rows of Pines, Spruces, and Cedars roamed a man. Given that the guy wandered among the five-footers and still stood close to a head taller, he probably neared six foot. He stepped into a space between the trees. Kyle sucked in an appreciative hiss. Damn, shaved skull and a t-shirt so tight it could have been painted on, complemented a tight ass tucked into deep indigo jeans.
Absently, Kyle answered her question, “You, ah, won’t be able to fit it in the base you bought if we don’t.” What he wouldn’t have given to be those jeans.
“Ah, excuse me,” the cartoon voice jerked Kyle’s attention away from his mental drooling, “are you going to finish my tree?”
Kyle took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, just a second.” Then he called out toward the other customer. “Be with you in a bit, sir!” Be on my knees in front of you in a second if I had my wish. “Just finishing up here.”
A deep, throaty, “No problem,” answered him and Kyle had to turn before the chick caught him sprouting more wood than the artificial forest surrounding them.
As quick as he could manage, Kyle stripped the bottom two branches then manhandled the tree to her steroid-ridden SUV. He had to re-do the tie downs twice because she fretted that Kyle hadn’t strapped it down tight enough. Each second Kyle wasted with her was one lost investigating him.
Finally she roared out of the parking lot and Kyle jogged back into the rows of trees. Kyle found him nosing around the mini-me trees that didn’t hit higher than the guy’s knees. Leg’s splayed out, arms folded across his chest, the man drummed thick fingers against a bulging bicep. Kyle’s boots crunched over the packed dirt lot, announcing his presence. The customer looked over at Kyle. The deepest brown eyes Kyle had ever seen made a slow up and down tour of Kyle’s body.
“Hi,” Kyle tried not to sound desperate…for either a sale or a blow-job. Although he’d much rather have the blow-job, Kyle’d settle for having the guy walk out with a tree. “My name’s Kyle. See anything you like, Mr.—“
Another head to toe crawl ended in an amused smirk. “Mike.” The smirk widened into a grin. “I just might have.”
“Well,” Kyle swallowed, “What kind of tree are you looking for. You like the small ones?”
“As long as it’s good and thick.”
Kyle couldn’t resist the tease. “I got one more in the mid sized range and pretty thick.”
“Didn’t see any of those out here on the lot. Is it hidden back there?” Mike jerked his head toward the big red and white tent. Through the open flap, stacks of still bundled trees created a maze. “I’d appreciate you showing me one like that.”
Kyle reminded himself that he needed this job. A quickie in the storage tent could get him canned five days before Christmas. Mike, as though he sensed the hesitation, smiled and stepped close. God, Mike smelled like he’d been working in the sun, all musky and male. Kyle decided to hell with working the tree lot, half the stores in town sported help wanted signs. “I could show you one in the back.”
“Great,” Mike sauntered off toward the tent, “show me what you got.” Pausing at the entrance, Mike looked back over his shoulder. “You expecting any help anytime soon?”
Kyle stopped next to Mike and wracked his brain for time. Marco and Jeff left about half an hour ago and they had three deliveries and a drive-thru run to make. “The other guys’ll be back in maybe fifteen minutes.”
Mike stepped into the tent, snagged Kyle’s belt loop and used it as a leash to pull him inside. “I’ll be quick then.” Still steering Kyle by the grip on his jeans, Mike led them back between the rows of trees. When they were out of plain view, he shoved Kyle against a pile of firs. Mike dropped to his knees. Before Kyle could do much of anything, Mike had the button popped and the zipper down. Kyle groaned as Mike fished his aching prick out of its denim prison. “You weren’t lying,” Mike grinned up at him, “nice size, just how I like it.”
Slowly, Mike ran his tongue along the underside of Kyle’s half-hard cock. He traced the flare of the head and then blew across the wet trail. Kyle stifled a moan. Mike snorted, twisting Kyle’s prick to full glory in his fist. “Yeah, really thick.” Mike muttered. Still jacking the cock in his hand, Mike wrapped his lips over the head. Mike’s free hand wormed into the gap of Kyle’s jeans. Using the back of his wrist, Mike forced Kyle’s jeans lower.
Holy shit! Kyle shuddered as Mike’s searching fingers moved behind his balls and tickled his hole. His hips bucked into the delicious combination of fist and mouth. Mike released his cock and moved to squeeze Kyle’s sac. This time, Kyle didn’t suppress his groan. He could almost feel Mike’s smile around his cock. As Mike sucked Kyle down to the root, he shoved a finger up Kyle’s ass. Kyle squirmed at the rawness of it, forcing his prick deeper into Mike’s throat.
Mike took it, barely gagging. The suction he managed, combined with the finger probing his hole and Mike’s massaging his balls, lit up Kyle’s nerves like a string of flashing Christmas lights. He slid his hand over Mike’s sweat slicked skull. He was so off balance. The trees behind him didn’t offer any support and he couldn’t get a grip on Mike. Pine needles stuck Kyle’s bare ass adding a hint of pain. Kyle thrashed. Mike kept sucking and fucking until Kyle lost it. One moment he was just flailing and the next he was pumping his load into Mike’s hot mouth. Swallow after swallow, Mike took it all.
When Kyle was dry, Mike pulled his hands out of Kyle’s jeans. Mike licked his lips and grinned. “I’d say you got a few minutes to spare.” He stood and held out his hand to help Kyle stand. It took a moment for Kyle to get his knees back under him. It’d been a while since he’d gotten off like that.
“Oh, wow,” Kyle caught his breath, “thanks.” He hadn’t been this mellow since before Thanksgiving. Kyle yanked up his pants and tucked himself away. Christmas didn’t seem so bad after all.
“My pleasure.” Mike fished in his back pocket, pulled out a money clip and began pulling off twenties. “Sixty bucks, right?”
Suddenly, Kyle’s mood shifted from happy and sated to supremely pissed off. He may have been easy and horny, but he wasn’t that desperate. Jeans still unzipped and gaping, Kyle tried to back away. His retreat was blocked by the infernal pile of trees. “Hey look, that’s not what this was…” He sputtered.
“Kyle.” Mike grabbed his jaw and forced Kyle to look him in the eyes. “The sign outside says, ‘we deliver any tree over sixty dollars free’.” With a wicked grin, Mike used his other hand to shove three bills down the front of Kyle’s open jeans, right next to Kyle’s prick. Before drawing back Mike gave it a squeeze. “Sixty bucks, pick any fucking tree, and bring it by my house as soon as the other guys get back.” He chuckled. “I think I have the perfect present to open under it.”
~Happy Holidays~
Friday, March 6, 2009
James Buchanan's Hard Fall gets Nymphed
James Buchanan's Hard Fall was a topic of discussion here a few weeks back before its release. Had to do with the Mormon church -- the discussion, that is.The book itself deals with a law man in Utah who clings to his Mormon faith while functioning as a closeted gay. Not exactly what you'd call a common theme in the oft-times predictable storylines of gay erotic fiction, but apparently Mr. Buchanan has created a credible story with compelling characters.
The book's only been in release for a few days, and already has received high marks from respected reviewer Chocolate Minx at Literary Nymphs.
FIVE... 5... Count 'em, FIVE NYMPHS... the tops.
Way to go, James! You made for a happy Minx.
Read the review HERE.
Friday, February 13, 2009
A Phoenix Rising Followup
JB: And they said nice girls wouldn't buy that shit...
Author Z.A. Maxfield followed with: Or write it. ;-)
JB: Yeah, but can I send your Stake President a copy of Hard Fall?
ZA: Please do!
JB: Yeah, but then I’d get a bill when he had an aneurysm and had to be rushed to the emergency room and the Relief Sisters had to go help his wife and their ½ dozen kids… sheesh we finally got the missionaries to leave us alone. The Elders were getting desperate, sending the female Elders out and they’re the rare, big guns you know (24-25 year old unmarried gals as opposed the 19 year old boys)
ZA: yep. You know, I always feed the boys but it's funny how those no on prop 8 signs seem to have kept them away as nothing else has.... Shun the non-believers...
These were references to missionaries from the Church of Latter-day Saints, or Mormons, who played a significant financial role in California's Proposition 8, which banned same-sex marriage in the state, and the authors were asked to explain.
JB: Various lay positions in the Mormon Church. The only paid position is the Janitor, all others are “called” into service. Elders (Missionaries) are usually boys between the ages of 18-21, but if a girl hasn’t gotten married by 21 she can go on a mission…and those women are FANATICAL. The Relief Society is Women who have been called to take care of the sick and elderly in the church. They bring meals, drive elderly members to Dr’s apt’s yadda. If you simply stop going to church and stop tithing (10% required) they send the older, more experienced Missionaries out to your house with a vengeance…often bringing the Stake President with them to discuss your absence. SG finally got rid of them when the Stake President said, “Well if you really don’t like the church, you should petition to have yourself removed from the rolls.”
His answer: “That would mean I cared…” They stopped coming, even when they’re in the neighborhood, although as with ZA we always fed them. It’s like being a door to door salesman with nothing people want to buy. SG did his two years among drug addicts in Northern England…he refuses to travel anywhere in Great Britain because of that time…
OH…and Hard Fall.. next book coming out…Gay Mormon Back Country Sheriff in Utah…
ZA: I cannot wait for that book, when again?
JB: It is in formatting…so soon
End of discussion!
James Buchanan's upcoming Hard Fall is shown in column right, as is the I Do Anthology of which Z.A. Maxfield was a contributing author. The proceeds from sales of I Do go to the Lambda Legal Defense Fund in their court battle to overturn Prop. 8, and was organized by contributing author Alex Beecroft. Book cover link takes you to Amazon.com where you can learn more about the project, see a full list of authors involved and, if you wish, purchase the book.
Thank you to Z.A. and James for taking this conversation to a good place. Comments to this post are definitely encouraged.
Jardonn
