Category Archives: Erotica & Fetish

Licked into Submission- African American Erotica

Licked into Submission…?? What the…? What is this!? Yes, I know. It’s a heck of a title right? And just looking at the title, you can only imagine what the book is about, right? Well for those of you who have read A Thug’s Life Revisited, you were lucky enough to get the sneak preview at the end of that awesome read. All I’ma say is, somebody finna get pregnant from this book and it ain’t gonna be me!

So how exactly does a person get licked into submission? Mannnn listen! It’s kinda like being dickmatized except it’s worse ESPECIALLY if the man is bringing good dick with him as well. Ladies, let’s all be adult now. I’m sure we’ve all had that guy that we promised ourselves we would never touch again not even on our most desperate night and all it took was for a song to come on the radio that made us reflect back to an encounter we’ve had with this man and before you know it, we’re texting, talking, licking, sucking and the rest is history. That man is always the toxic man, the one momma never warned us about because chances are she was battling the aDICKtion or she was licked into submission her damn self. That man is poison, no good for us, but got damn it he can do some fierce things with his tongue and we just can’t stay away.

Have I been licked into submission? Ha! Wouldn’t you like to know? I wouldn’t say I was licked into submission per-say but he who shall be renamed BLACK ASS could win a gold medal in the Hugh Hefner cunnilingus Olympics and they would have to create a platinum medal for him for the fuck-a-thon. *Shrugs* It is what it is.

Needless to say, I’m throwing my hat in the ring for writing a hot sex book. I mean a book so hot and so juicy, you may need to sit with a spray bottle and spritz yourself with cold water while you’re reading. I say, load up on some condoms and make sure you got your depo shot on time LOL because it’s about to get real!

African American Erotica books can be tricky as you do not want to come off as raunchy, without class, promiscuous and slutty… well… at least I don’t. While I advocate being sexually uninhibited and think that women should not be ashamed of their sexual appetite if it is a hefty one regardless of how men try to stigmatize those who do have one with labeling them as hoes (meanwhile their body count could fill a fucking grave yard but that ain’t none of my business though LOL) I still think a level of class should be placed in books that contain a lot of sex scenes. Is it possible to be classy and raunchy at the same time? Hell yes! Duality is a talent like a mug! I think books that are in the erotica genre should not be focused solely on descriptive, juicy sex scenes but should still contain a plot. After all, without a plot or a point to the story, it’s pretty much a literary porno. So I’m taking my time with this.

How about a taste? You think you can handle it. Chilllllle Listen, I had to take a break after the first five pages. Keep in mind I’m single with no one to take my (clears throat) frustrations out on while writing this book LOL. First, check out this BOMB ass cover that I did and comment letting me know what you think.liscover2I’m so excited to be doing this book! I can’t wait until I finish and it’s ready to be released to the world. I was hoping to have it done by the summer but, we shall see! In the meantime, feast your eyes on this…

Shadows of the candles’ flames danced on the wall as the scent of coconut oil and Jasmine scented flowers filtered throughout the room. But, those scents were being out-done by the over- powering aroma of sex infiltrating my bedroom.

J-Holiday crooned through the surround-sound in my bedroom and I could curse his fine ass right now because I was definitely being put to bed… bed… bed. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do this again, that I wouldn’t allow myself to be seduced into being Carmelo’s bed wench again because it doesn’t seem like the situationship that we’ve gotten tangled up in is a good idea. For some reason, R-Kelly is in my head right now because my mind was definitely telling me no. But my body… yeah, my body was telling… no screaming yes. Yes! Lawd, yes! Hell, my body was speaking languages I’d never known after feeling Carmelo’s warm, wet tongue twirling, swirling, and flickering back and forth across my clit to the beat of J-Holiday’s song “Bed”.

My hands were tied with silken, white scarves to the Maplewood headboard attached to my king sized bed. While I usually don’t allow myself to be in this kind of state of vulnerability, the way Carmelo’s pussy licking technique is set up, I don’t mind being vulnerable for one more night. And ahhh, there lies the problem. But that explanation is going to have to wait… one… minute…

Damn, Carmelo just pushed my legs back to my chest with his arms hooked around them so I couldn’t run and his tongue is giving my pussy the tongue thrashing that it craves. My back arched against the black silk sheets and my arms yanked at the silken scarves wanting desperately to grab ahold of something, preferably the back of his head so I could grind my pussy all over his mouth. Not being able to do so was driving me mad.

I felt his fingers exploring my tight wetness, going in and out as he licked and sucked me into an orgasmic heaven and my God did I cum so hard once he began sucking on my clit and pushing his fingers in deep enough to hit my G-Spot. I don’t know what was hotter, the fact that he could do with his fingers what most men can’t do with their dicks, or the devilish look on his face as he stared at me while he lapped up my cunt juices like a cat would lap up cream.

I breathed deeply as I looked down at him, sure that he was going to untie me so I could return the favor. As the saying goes: one good lick deserves another and he definitely deserved to have his dick devoured whole. But instead, he positioned himself on his knees in between my legs as he held his thick, throbbing, black, rock-hard, nine-inch dick. I stared like a wide-eyed child seeing a plethora of gifts under the Christmas tree. And in my mind I was thinking, “Oh shit, he brought dick with him, too!” Life is good…

Carmelo grabbed my legs and put them up over his shoulders never taking his eyes off of me, which always made the sex between us so damn hot. These damn silk scarves were in the way. I wanted to grab the dick myself and put it in. I wanted to grab his ass and feel those tight, muscular glutes flexing as he pumped that big, black ding-a-ling deep inside of my tight, wet tunnel. But he wanted me to take it how he gave it. And judging by that hungry, animalistic look in his eyes, he was about to beat this pussy up something fierce.

I gasped when I felt him enter me slow and deep. With my ankles atop his shoulders, he pushed my knees back to my chest and gave me a long, wet, sensuous kiss, with his tongue dancing around my mouth so I could taste the sweet flavor of my nectar on him. And then he went to work. I lost count of how many times I came. By the time it was over, my toes were throwing up gang signs and I was sure I was about to slip into an orgasmic coma, too.

Carmelo untied my wrists from the headboard and they fell limp on top of my chest as I struggled to gain control of my breathing. I had cum so hard and so many times, the black silk sheets beneath me were soak and wet. He pulled me into his arms and kissed my ear as I slowly began to come down off of my erotic high.

“You good, Tavia?” he asked me in his sexy voice that could send my kitten in an uproar just hearing it.

I nodded my head. “Oh yeah,” I said with a grin. He intertwined our fingers and kissed my ear again and before I knew it, I could tell he had fallen asleep by the sounds of his slow, deep breathing.

“Fuck!” I cursed myself. “This mofo was not supposed to spend the night. That wasn’t the plan. He was supposed to be moonwalking his ass to the 6 bus stop right now! Damn, I done fucked up again!” I shook my head in disgust as I came to the realization that I had once again allowed this man’s ability to fuck like a porn star trying to win a gold medal in the Hugh Hefner Olympics and eat pussy like a Cunnlingus king, lick his way into my heart, lick his way into my bed… and lick me into submission. Shame on it all!

What’s Cooking on the laptop, Yani?

The Author YaniThe question that is constantly asked by my readers is “Yani, when are you coming out with another book? I need something to read!” LOL! I appreciate that enthusiasm. Well, I have quite a few novels in my head at this present time. It’s just a matter of me finding the time to sit down and pen them. I am also not the type to force my work. The novel has to come to me freely without any corners being cut and of course, it has to be FULL LENGTH. Whenever I sat down to write a book, starting from A Thug’s Redemption, it was always like a movie that played in my head and I would write down what I saw, down to the smallest detail. I want my readers to feel like they are watching a movie while they are reading with every page that they turn. So in response to this question-and again, I appreciate the enthusiasm, just be a little more patient with me. Trust me when I tell you something good is coming and this next one is going to blow a lot of people’s minds even more so than Obsessive Intimacies.

So I guess the next question would be, “Is there something cooking on the laptop, Yani?” Absolutely! My next novel is a BDSM/Fetish novel that will be penned from my own experiences as an on-line BDSM Mistress. (yeah… major pause) I know some of you are reading this like, “What the hell? Yani was a Mistress?” For those of you who don’t know what a “Mistress” is, it’s not the pleasant title of the “side chick”. It is actually the title of a dominant woman who indulges in various fetishes with submissive/slaves which can either be male or female. A Mistress is always in control, always assertive, always sure of her place and the place of her subject and can NEVER be topped from the bottom. (No I did not wear the cliche leather cat suit with a whip in my hand. LOL!)I had and still have many admires on-line who served and still serve me when I allow them to and I ruled my “femdom domain” with an iron fist. This next novel that I am working on isn’t “non-fiction”. I have a story to tell and the fact that I have participated in this lifestyle as what they call “an Ebony Femdom Mistress”, I can write it from experience making the novel all the more enjoyable.

I can imagine what the next question will be. “How in the hell did you get into the BDSM lifestyle?” Well… that’s a long story. So to shorten it, I started out on a PSO line using my real photos. A customer saw me and said “You look like a Mistress…” and went on to tell me his fantasies of being a submissive male to a dominant Black woman like me and blah blah blah. I also had a new friend on the site at the time who I will keep nameless, who also told me I look like a mistress and I should run with that persona. I didn’t really know jack shit about being a “Mistress” but before I knew it, calls were coming in, men were ready to serve and pay and the money was amazing. So… an Ebony Mistress was born…

So what is this new novel that I’m speaking of? I won’t give the title because I’ve been seeing a lot of ripping off lately. Instead, I will post a preview here for your enjoyment and to prepare you for what’s to come. I will warn you, this preview is not for the weak minded or those with sensitive eyes. Viewer discretion is STRONGLY advised…

.   .   .

Staring down at this pink bitch as he groveled over the beauty of my perfectly toned calves and thick, ebony thighs encased in a pair of expensive, Italian, silky, shear nylon stockings caused a sexy yet sadistic grin to spread across my face. Another male bitch, broken by my beauty, has fallen hopelessly to his knees, succumbing to an addiction he surely will never be able to overcome. I watched in part disgust and in part amusement as “my bitch” stuck out his long, pink and wet tongue to lick across the bottom of my expensive Christian Louboutin high heel that he graciously purchased using his company’s platinum credit card. I saw him shudder as he let out a joyous groan, his eyes closing in ecstasy as he tasted where my perfect shoe graced the concrete with each step I had previously taken. My ebony beauty and natural female power exuded superiority and flowed outward and over his helpless, submissive and pathetic weak self. “My Bitch” nestled his face against my shoe as a child would snuggle close to his mother for the sake of comfort, belonging and acceptance. What a pathetic loser. And he was just one of many…

I am Goddess Melinda, an Ebony Femdom Mistress. Some consider me a Dominatrix. My pets recognize me as the dominant, ebony femme fatale I am. I am dominant by nature; bossy, bitchy, and a no non-sense taking superior female who joyously prey on the weaknesses of submissive white men who come to me crawling on their pathetic hands and knees to sample my strength in the ability to tame and control the weaker subject. While many look down on the fetish lifestyle, I profit from it; Financial Domination, where I engage in degrading money extractions and humiliating financial expenditures with men who come from wealthy backgrounds that love spoiling a glamorous Ebony Goddess like myself. Men, who understand that their purpose in life is solely to provide for me and enrich my life with the finer things the world has to offer, come from all over to serve me; whether it is on-line through cyber domination, or in person, like this pathetic runt kneeling before me, in a real time session.

I can imagine, that many people frown upon me and see me as some money grubbing prostitute using my body for financial gain. You truly have no idea what you are talking about. It is quite the opposite. Never have I ever stripped for these misfit pigs as I know the key to maintaining the upper hand and remaining in control is to NOT get naked and to NOT engage in any form of sexual contact as that keeps the slave longing for more. I control the libido. Therefore, I control the man. And in that control, I now am the Alpha Female in this power exchange or give and take relationship, and he is merely my bitch. So while chicks are in the clubs, sliding down nasty poles and twerking their bodies this way and that way for part-time, bull-shit, nickel and dime hustlers to make it rain enough for them to catch a cab home and catch a cab back the next night to repeat the same failed process, I simply sit atop my throne and cash in with little to no effort.

At twenty-three years old, I have had my college tuition fully paid for by many of my slaves who have served me and continue to serve me while insuring I become a force to be reckoned with in the “vanilla” work world. I own my own home in an upscale area of New Jersey and have never had to write one single check for my mortgage, as it is paid by one of my many devoted submissives. While I enjoy working in the corporate world as a Financial Adviser for one of the top Stock Brokerage Firms in New York, I truly do not have to as all that I need and all that I want is provided for me on a daily basis. Many people work because they have to. I simply work because I want to.

I could feel “my bitch’s” hands as they massaged too happily against my thighs. I waved my finger at him to let him know he was being a naughty boy before giving him a hard slap to his face.

“You know better,” I said to him in a firm voice with a seductive grin on my face.

He stuttered as he spoke, his face undoubtedly stinging from my slap, “Yes, Mistress. I apologize. May I please have the honor of smelling your divine and perfect ebony feet?”

I gave off a dramatic yawn as if he were boring me. “Why would I let you have that kind of joy when you haven’t done a thing to please me?” I asked him. He knew exactly what I meant by this and immediately crawled over to his wallet and pulled out a knot of cash; twenty $100 dollar bills and fifty $20 dollar bills just the way I liked it. He then put it back in his wallet before clenching it between his teeth and crawled back to me like a good pup. I took the wallet from him and pet him on his head like the good bitch he is and then pulled the money from his wallet. He watched me as I seductively licked my finger, knowing that drove him crazy, and began counting the money. I lift my foot in the air after partially sliding it from the high-heel and let it dangle before him.

“Sniff, bitch!” I ordered him without looking at him as I continued to count MY money.

“Oh thank you, divine Goddess! This pathetic, foot-slave bitch will be happy to smell your sweaty, nylon covered feet!” He eagerly pulled the high-heel from my foot and pressed the inner sole against his face like a gas mask, before inhaling my scent. I could hear him taking deep whiffs of the inside of my shoe as if the very smell were a drug that left him feeling intoxicated.

I giggled, “Smells good, doesn’t it, Foot Bitch?” I asked as I continued to count through the money.

“Yes, Mistress. Your feet are immaculate!” He held onto my foot and sniffed the soles of them. He sniffed from my heel, up the arch of my foot and to my toes. I spread them apart slightly and wiggled them as I knew that would drive him crazy. And that’s when he made a grave mistake. The nasty, foot sniffing, pig-bitch licked the bottom of my foot and put my toe in his mouth. I looked at him with fire in my eyes and threw the money in his face as hard as I could. He jumped, knowing he was in big trouble.

“You insolent little FUCK! Did I tell you that you could taste?” I asked harshly as I rose from my chair.

“N… no Mistress,” he stammered as he cowered on his hands and knees, bracing himself for what he knew was coming next.

I reached back and back-slapped the spit out of him. He whimpered as he continued to cower.

“It never fails! I give you an inch and you try to take a fucking mile! I give you a crumb and you still insist on having the whole fucking slice of cake. I’m going to learn you today, you pathetic, pink, bitch!” I sneered at him.

“I’m sorry, Goddess! I’m such a greedy and pathetic foot-bitch. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Shut up!” I yelled before slapping him again. I pushed him onto the floor and stuck my foot in his face. “This is what you wanted, right?” I asked as I covered practically his entire face with my size 10 foot. He was unable to answer as my toes were smashing his mouth. I pulled my chair closer to him so I could sit down and took my other heel off before placing both of my feet onto his face, trampling him. I playfully tap danced all over his face, neck and chest while belittling and degrading him. When I knew I had him where I wanted him, I made him get back onto his knees.

“Whose bitch are you?” I asked him as I leaned so close to his face he could smell my breath.

“I’m your bitch, Mistress Melinda,” he whimpered.

I slapped him in his face. “What did you call me?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress Melinda,” he said in response.

I slapped the shit out of him again. “Is that how you are allowed to address me, you fucking loser?” I scolded him.

“No, Mistress Melinda,” he replied. I slapped him in his face again, and then back slapped him, and then front slapped him and just as I was about to back slap his pathetic, pink-ass again, he began to shake and grunt loudly. The pathetic bitch was ejaculating all over his floor, never once touching his penis. I laughed at him loudly as I clapped my hands together, tickled with the power I have over some of these worthless runts. He struggled to get control of his breathing as his body jerked like a man suffering from turrets.

I stood up and said with disgust, “Now look at the mess you’ve made. Somebody has to clean it up and it sure as hell won’t be me.” I casually strolled behind him and ran my fingers through his salt and pepper colored hair before grabbing a handful of it and putting my knee into his back, forcing him to bend over. “Lick it up, cum sucker! Every fucking drop!” I felt him try to struggle a little so I tightened the grip on his hair and pushed my knee into his back even more until his face was inches away from his puddle of jizz on the hardwood floors. I heard him let out a piteous groan and peeked around to see him licking the contents of his scrotum sacks off of the floor. He lapped that ball juice up like a cat would lap up a bowl of milk. I shook my head in disgust.

“Mop that fucking floor with your tongue, bitch! You better not leave one fucking drop behind, do you understand me, you nasty, cum guzzling, foot sniffing cunt!”

“Yes, Goddess,” I heard him manage to say with his tongue pressed against the floor. He finished licking up his cock sauce and I let him up. He rushed to the bathroom to rinse his mouth out with whatever mouthwash he had and I slipped back into my five inch Christian Louboutin heels. I picked the money up from off of the floor and slipped it into my Gucci wallet. I heard my bitch returning from the bathroom as I was retrieving my Chosen Furs Lambskin Leather Coat with Fox Fur trim. He now wore a royal blue, terry cloth house robe, covering the flabby curves of his pale body.

“Let me help you with that, Goddess,” my bitch offered. He helped me slip into my coat and handed my Vintage Web Original Gucci handbag to me. “As always, it was a pleasure serving you, Goddess.”

“Of course it was,” I said with a hint of conceit to my voice. I flipped my long, kinky and curly mane over my shoulders as I adjusted the collar to my coat.

“May I call you tonight on Flirt-Chat?” he asked with a hopeful look on his face.

I shrugged as if I were bored with him, which I absolutely was. “I’ll think about it. I have other things to do. But if I feel like tolerating you once more this evening, you can message me on Yahoo to find out.”

“Thank you, Goddess. I hope you will allow me to speak with you once more.”

I ignored his last comment as he opened the door for me. “Catch you later, Jerry.” I slipped on my Gucci framed sunglasses and made my way out to my 2013 Mercedes CLS63 AMG Coupe. The sun hadn’t yet set and it appeared as though pink, orange and purple colored taffies were stretching across the sky. A brief drizzle had moved through the area leaving the air damp and chilly. I tweaked the alarm on my car and climbed inside. I didn’t start it right away as my thoughts drifted off to Jerry; the foot sniffing, cum licking slave and the many others who were like him. Jerry wasn’t a bad looking man; his eyes were the color of a blue sky with a hint of gray as if a storm were approaching. Though he was in his 50s, his face was that of a man barely pushing 35. He was beyond financially stable and a partner at a Law Firm, yet he chose to have a young, dominant Black woman humiliate him in some of the most degrading manners while he paid handsomely for the opportunity. The disgusting acts that he along with many others indulged in solidified my reasons behind leading a single life. Though I was far from being a lesbian and enjoyed the company of the Alpha Black Male, knowing that there were men in the world who enjoyed cuckolding, cock and ball torture, self-bukkake, small cock humiliation, and worshiping Big Black Cock, angered me a bit. Some of these men were not the typical weak punks who submissive men are misinterpreted as being. A lot of these men were the go to guys, the men who were once popular jocks in school, leaders at their jobs, and led a pretty dominant life. Those were the ones who mostly enjoyed the perverse doings in the BDSM and Fetish lifestyle. They were the main ones sneaking off to Glory Holes in the adult book stores and theaters, seeking out random dicks to suck on in dark, musky booths that reeked of sex from its previous occupants’ jerk off sessions. If a lot of women knew what I knew, they might be a little more cautious about who they bedded, trusted, had children by and ultimately married. I was well aware of these creatures of dark and kinky habits. And with this knowledge, I take full advantage daily; an Ebony Femme Fatale indeed…