Jaye Elise's Blog

I’ve written a few times about our community, our lovely little corner of the kinky blogosphere where support, kindness, and comfort are of the utmost importance. Community is a big part of what inspires us to share our intimacies, our innermost thoughts, our most delicious, perverse natures…in other words, our truths.

In the spirit of this community, I was absolutely delighted when Marla from the Collars & Cuddles blog reached out to me to do an interview. I’ve always enjoyed her posts which feature a blend of nuanced sexuality, BDSM insights, and helpful educational pieces. And now I’ve had a chance to do a cross-blog collaboration with her – what a treat!

I hope you enjoy the interview as much as I did…and do yourself a favor and subscribe to Collars & Cuddles while you’re there! Thanks again, Marla!

Someone recently shared with me the Lana Turner quote “A gentleman is simply a patient wolf.” I’d never heard this one before, and it gave me some food for thought. There are a number of ways to interpret this quote, especially within the context of D/s, so I thought I’d mull it over a bit and then throw it out to the comments section to see what you all thought. 

At first glance, there’s a cynical (yet understandable) matter-of-factness to the expression. The implication is that all men are inherently wolves—dangerous, feral, threatening—and that a gentleman is a wolf who knows how to temper these urges slightly better than their counterparts. Although reductive, we can find the echoes of this sentiment in the “man or bear” question that’s been making the rounds for the past year or so.

But if we peel back the onion a bit and look at the expression through a D/s lens, I would argue there’s a different tack we could take here. Perhaps the wolf’s characteristics aren’t dangerous, feral, and threatening, but rather cunning, intelligent, and determined. And when we add “patient” to the mix, this wolf is a sublime manifestation of all that is dominant. He commands respect, he won’t be ignored, he will be obeyed…and he will outlast you no matter how long you resist him. Hmmm…

In all fairness, I’m not so sure that Ms. Turner would agree with this second interpretation, but at least we can engage in some healthy debate about our patient, gentlemanly wolves. 

What’s your take on the expression? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Who’s gonna pick you up when you fall?
Who’s gonna hang it up when you call?
Who’s gonna pay attention to your dreams?
Yeah, who’s gonna plug their ears when you scream?

You can’t go on, thinking nothing’s wrong, but now
Who’s gonna drive you home tonight?

Who’s gonna hold you down when you shake?
Who’s gonna come around when you break?

You can’t go on, thinking nothing’s wrong, but now
Who’s gonna drive you home tonight?

– “Drive,” The Cars

I hope everyone is doing okay. It’s a long weekend here in the United States, so I’ve got a little extra time to write and ruminate…I figured I might as well write a blog post!

It physically pains me to call this one an “oldie,” but given that this week’s Submissive Song Sunday is more than 40 years old, I suppose it qualifies. Sighhh… Folks, for this installment, I give you “Drive” by The Cars, incidentally one of my favorite songs of all time.

There’s heartbreak, there’s loss, there’s melancholy, there’s pain… Every last note can crush you with its weight and take your breath away. And, while I don’t think Ric Ocasek had D/s in mind when he wrote this song, the lyrics “Who’s gonna hold you down when you shake? / Who’s gonna come around when you break?” have always held a special energy for me and my submission. The notion that someone would be strong enough to hold me through my struggles and keep holding me even when I’m at my worst? Incredible.

But the whole premise of this song is based on a series of questions, open-ended questions that only she can answer. Ultimately, she’s the one—submissive or not—who has to find her path forward. Most classic love songs have a narrative arc that drives toward redemption, toward understanding, toward togetherness. Yet here, we’re left with questions that only the strongest of submissives can dare to answer.

So, who’s gonna drive you home tonight?

I was naive and wide eyed,
But you made me see,
That you don’t get to taste the honey,
Without the sting of a bee,
No, you don’t.

Yes, you stung me good,
Oh yeah, you dug in deep,
But I’ll take, I’ll take it, I’ll take it,
Til I’m down on my knees.

I’ve got my hands up so take your aim,
Yeah I’m ready,
There’s nothing that we can’t go through.
Walk a thousand miles on broken glass,
It won’t stop me,
From making my way back to you.
It’s not real until you feel the pain,
And nothing ever hurt like you,
Nothing ever hurt like you.

– “Nothing Ever Hurt Like You,” James Morrison

After a few weeks off, I’ve got another Submissive Song Sunday for you, folks! Today’s offering is “Nothing Ever Hurt Like You” by James Morrison. Morrison’s sultry voice, the timeless quality of the composition, and the evocative lyrics are a perfect combination to drive this message home…mmmm…. Whether this “hurt” is emotional or physical—or a delicious combination of both—there’s just something about the refrain “It’s not real until you feel the pain” that…hits a little different for some of us. Have a listen and enjoy, friends!

On a completely unrelated note, I wanted to thank you for your warm reception of my new novel, Sentenced: A Dark Doctor Romance! I made it into the top ten in my category on Amazon, so that was an exciting surprise! For those of you who’ve purchased the book or read it on Kindle Unlimited, I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for your support and encouragement.

And if you haven’t checked it out yet, click on that link above and give it a read…and be sure to let me know if any of those kinky bits tickle your fancy, hm?

Well, after a few fits and starts, it’s finally the release day for my newest novel—Sentenced: A Dark Doctor Romance! And it’s almost eight years to the day of when I published my first novel…also with a doctor involved. Given that I thought my writing career was over, this seems like the perfect way to christen my return. Thanks for sharing this moment with me, folks!

Sentenced is available now on Amazon for purchase and on Kindle Unlimited, so go have a read and let me know what you think! (As the book becomes available on other platforms, I will update this post with those links—thanks for your patience as these go live.)

Happy reading and have a wonderful weekend, all!

Blurb:

When Leila Jones provokes New Cascadia’s dystopian government, the defiant young woman is sentenced to a deeply, intimately humiliating “reprogramming” at a special medical facility.

Her rehabilitation begins with Leila red-bottomed and gagged to deal with her sharp tongue, but the real treatment doesn’t start until she’s been stripped fully bare and tightly strapped down.

Spread open and helpless to interfere as her naked body is teased, tormented, and thoroughly, clinically mastered by the handsome doctor assigned to her case, Leila wonders how long it will be until she breaks and begs him shamefully to show her what it means to come like a bad girl.

But the more she makes him wait, the rougher it will be when he finally claims her.

Publisher’s Note:Sentenced includes sexual scenes, spankings, and extensive medical play. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Shout-out to Jon Grey for planting this idea in my mind with his article on ice and wax play! Thanks, Jon!

“On your feet. Arms behind your back.”

Casey had spent the better part of the last half hour seated on the floor next to Sir. If she were being completely honest with herself, it was her favorite place to be and had been during the tenure of their few months together. But, in this particular case, she was more than ready to obey his commands. 

Before Casey had gotten seated at his feet, Sir had imprisoned her nipples in a vicious pair of clover clamps. Intense. Unrelenting. Sadistic. In other words, they were just like Sir. And they were perfect.

Casey loved to hate the clamps. They bit into her tender buds, never allowing her a moment’s reprieve or even a quick distraction. She was always painfully, acutely aware of them, and consequently, of Sir’s control of her body. And this was even before Sir had rigged up a cord to connect to the chain that spanned Casey’s chest, connecting the clamps. Using this cord, Sir could sit in his chair and tug at will on his lovely submissive’s nipples, providing all the sweet torture that both of them craved. 

But the time had come to remove them—Sir didn’t like to leave them on too long—and Casey now stood before him in the posture he’d commanded. “You did so well with your clamps today, little one. You made me so proud. Such gorgeous little whimpers, such beautiful strength in your submission. But it’s time for these to come off. And I’ve got a special treat for you today.”

The impish twinkle in his eye told Casey that whatever “special treat” he had in mind was bound to be part relief and part ordeal for her. Prior experience told her that removing the clamps was, in many cases, the most difficult to endure. Sir didn’t leave her waiting as he deftly removed both clamps at the same time. The aching, searing waves of pleasure and pain that seared through her nipples and radiated through her core sucker-punched her in the gut and nearly dropped her to her knees. Sir grabbed ahold of her hips to steady her as she grappled with the fiercest throbbing of the blood returning to her swollen nipples. 

“There’s my good girl…breathe for me…steady yourself…breathe nice and deeply for Sir and he’ll make everything better, hm?”

The promise of relief was a siren’s song Casey couldn’t resist, and she obeyed her Sir. As she always did. His promise was quick in coming. 

Sir reached into the glass on the stand beside him and pulled out two ice cubes, one for each hand, and applied them to Casey’s tortured nipples. The sensation was excruciatingly intense and comfortingly welcome art the same time. As her nipples throbbed back to life, he massaged the cubes against them in tight circles. Meltwater trailed down the underside of her breasts and her torso before falling to the cushion below her. She held position as Sir continued his ministrations. 

“Feeling good, little one?”

“Mmm…yes, Sir,” she moaned as she met his sharp gaze. 

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered. “Now, we’re going to keep going. Spread your legs and stay still for me.”

As she got into position, Casey’s mind rapid-fired through all the possible scenarios of what “keep going” might mean. Her answer soon arrived as Sir grabbed two more ice cubes and positioned one of them against her vagina. “Absolutely still, my good girl. Time to make me proud as I punish and pleasure this little pussy of mine.” Without further preamble, he used two fingers to push the cube inside, seating it deep within her. He repeated this with the second cube, then sat back in his chair to relax and watch the show.

Casey had never played with ice before—not on her nipples, not anywhere—so the evening’s sensations were beginning to overwhelm her. But she focused on Sir’s instructions—Stay still. Make me proud. She held onto his words like an anchor, the only thing to keep her from drifting away and dissociating from the intensity of the experience. 

The freezing cubes tucked into her warmth created odd sensations within her, cooling her entire body down while simultaneously making her hyperaware of her sex. In less than ten seconds from when he’d filled her with ice, the cubes began to melt and a steady trickle of water slid down her inner thigh while dewdrops fell from her chilled labia. 

“Looks like my girl sprung a leak,” he teased her gently, causing her to giggle and tremble at her own demise. He laughed with her as he trailed his fingers through her cool wetness and licked them. “Remember, absolutely still until the ice is all gone, my good girl.”

“Mmm, yes, Sir.” Casey stopped her giggles and stilled herself as a light wave of cramping washed over her—the cold cubes and her warm body were waging a war, and she didn’t want to end up a casualty. “Permission to ask a question during a session, Sir?”

“Of course, little one, ask away.”

“We’ve never used ice before, Sir. Why now? Why tonight?” The cubes continued to melt down her legs as she met his stare. 

“Fair question. So, I’ve been thinking about us lately. A lot. And I think we need to consider taking our relationship to the next level. The cold, hard truth is that I need you in my life. The cold, hard truth is that what we have is perfection itself. The cold, hard truth is that I love you. And I just wanted to make sure I had your full attention when I told you all about the cold, hard truth.”

And, for the rest of the evening and beyond, Casey never again shied away from Sir’s cold, hard truths. 

“Where do you want me to take you today? What do you need?” Dominant though he was, he always requested her input before they started one of their sessions. He needed to understand where she was physically and emotionally and how far he could take her into the depths of her submission. Did she need something more playful? A funishment? Some quick swats to jolt her into a submissive frame of mind?

Or did she need something darker…more profound…

“It’s been a long time since the last spanking, Sir. I’ve missed you…your touch…your special kind of pain…your marks. And I want all of it.” She couldn’t hide from him. Not anymore. He understood and embraced her masochistic glory just as she worshipped at the altar of his sadism. She craved everything he could give her and trusted him implicitly to deliver her to a place where she would soar in her submission to him. The smile pasted on his face told her that he understood her needs and that he was delighted to have the opportunity to imprint himself on her bottom and on her soul. 

“Thank you for your honesty, my girl. You know this won’t be easy for you.” It wasn’t a question; it was a pure statement of fact. He would be punishing her today…punishing her for nothing more than the crime of being a needy little submissive. And she’d be feeling his attentions for days to come. She nodded in assent as she steeled herself for what she’d asked for. She was now a complicit conspirator in her own demise.

“Good girl.” Those words further liquified her molten submission, and her knees trembled beneath her. “Now, come over here. Across my lap.”

The breath hitched in her throat and her feet sprouted roots, anchoring her in place. She may have wanted—and asked for—what was about to happen, but her body’s protective instinct engaged in a last ditch effort to save her. But when it came to him, it was in vain.

“Now,” he ordered and she was powerless to resist his command. She was his…now, forever, always. And she’d never be able to resist his pull. She met his eyes and crossed the room in submissive obedience. She was over his lap before she could give it another thought. 

“That’s the good girl I love,” he whispered as he caressed her bottom. “Now let’s give my little pain slut what she needs, hm?” He chuckled softly as he flipped her short skirt up and pinned it against her lower back to hold her in place. As his submissive, she wasn’t allowed to wear panties, so this was one less obstacle between them and where they both needed to go. He pressed his thumb against the jeweled plug in her bottom, another requirement he had of her during her anal training. She moaned lasciviously, squirming against his firm thighs.

“Through words and actions, you’ve been asking for some extra attention tonight. And I’m going to give it to you, my girl, so settle in. I’m taking you to dark orange.”

Dark orange.

On a scale from green to red – and every lemongrass, chartreuse, and marigold shade in between – dark orange would be the deepest and hardest they’d ever explored together. They’d flirted with deeper sessions before—and both understood that they would reach red at some point together—but this was a new depth for them. A shiver coursed through her body and she reared up in a protective gesture. His hand kept her where he wanted her. “Tsk, tsk, you’re not going anywhere. Not until I’ve finished giving you what you need.” She exhaled a shuddering breath and did her best to relax against his lap.

When the first barrage of stinging spanks came, his palm popping across her bare bottom and exposed sit spots, the initial shock faded quickly into a familiar singeing warmth and she sighed against his calf. “Enjoying your warm-up, baby?” He continued peppering her exposed, squirming ass. “You’re already turning a nice shade of pink for me. But pink isn’t going to get you to dark orange, my little pain princess, is it?” She groaned as his words caressed her very soul and reminded her of what he had in store for her. He leveled a nasty, biting spank across her, his firm palm grazing the plug and clipping both cheeks. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Sir,” she grunted through clenched teeth, pain and embarrassment tingeing her confession. “I want dark orange.”

“Good girl. And you’re going to tell me when you get there…and I’ll decide whether or not you’ve had enough.” 

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Each word coupled with another smack across her exposed backside.

He picked up the sandal next, the leather one that made the best noises against her ass…and elicited the best noises from her as well. With her bottom already sensitive from the warmup, the sandal seared across her backside as he gained in speed and intensity.

Echoes of the sandal strikes and her whimpering filled the room. “That’s it, my girl…tell me how much it hurts…tell me how much you like it…tell me how much you need this…and thank me for all of it.” His harsh murmuring penetrated her psyche through the endorphin-laden fog and rendered her hypnotized, entranced by the delicious pain he doled out.

“Thank you,” she rasped as her hand flew back to protect herself from a particularly vicious blow on her hip. 

“Uh uh,” he pinned her errant hand against her lower back. “We’re not to dark orange yet, are we? You’re not done until I say you’re done, and you don’t dare use those hands again,” he growled as he intensified his onslaught. “And, for that infraction, my naughty little pain slut, you don’t get to rub your bottom.” She groaned and slumped against his lap, the burning sear settling into her ass and radiating through her overwrought body. She hadn’t even considered rubbing her abused cheeks until now, but after he’d planted the idea in her head, it was all she could think of. And this is exactly what he wanted.

“I’ll bet you wish you could get some comfort for this stinging, aching bottom of yours, hm?” he teased her. “Well, I won’t rub, but maybe I can distract you a bit before the final push.” He put the sandal down, and she took a ragged breath during the momentary reprieve. “That’s it…deep breaths for me…in…and out…in…and out….good.” As her breathing regulated under his tutelage, he gripped the base of the plug buried in her ass and began tugging and tapping, stimulating her needy little hole. She moaned and twisted on his lap. The additional teasing only served to exacerbate the burn and ache, but it served another dark, hidden purpose. 

In an unconscious shift that seemed as natural as breathing, her brain switched over. She was no longer his submissive, no longer his pain slut…no. She was now his slave. A slave to the pain he was providing her, a slave to the experience he wanted to give her.

“Where are you right now, my girl? Are you hitting the limits?” He let go of the plug, and her greedy hole pulled it back into its rightful place.

“Mmm…good, Master…want dark orange…want everything.” She’d lost control of some of her speech, but she retained what mattered most in this moment—her ability to refer to him as “Master.” 

His reaction was immediate. He grabbed the final implement—a wooden spoon—and put it before her lips to kiss it. His erection dug into her side as wetness coated her inner thighs. “Master is about to take his slave home.”

She quickly lost count of how many times the spoon connected with her searing cheeks. And she’d long since given up struggling, kicking, and crying out. What was the point in carrying on when they both knew that this was exactly what she needed? Fat tears trailed down her face and dropped to the plush carpet beneath her. She sniffled as the pop, pop, pop of the spoon filled the room. 

“Orange…dark orange!” she croaked, barely able to force herself to admit it. 

“Just a few more, my slave…you’re so close.” 

Within moments and after a dozen more harsh blows, he threw the spoon to the floor and he pulled her into a cradled position against him in the bed. Sobs wracked her body, and she released a guttural scream against his chest…a release, a catharsis, a call of communion with the man who owned her. 

“That’s my girl. Shhh. That’s my girl. You did such a good job for me. Breathe now. Let it out…let it all out for me…I’ve got you…I’ve got you and I’m never letting you go…” He whispered encouragement as she trembled against him. “Such a strong, brave girl…my good girl…”

“Th-thank you, Sir,” she mumbled against his chest, still sniffling from her tears.

“Thank you for what?”

“Thank you for giving me what I needed, for knowing how to take me there, and for being brave enough to push me further than I thought I could go.” Her words miraculously returned in the aftermath of her ordeal, as he blanketed her in his warmth and praise. 

“You’ve never called me ‘Master’ before. How do you feel about that?”

“Um, not really sure…but it felt…right.”

“It felt right to me, too. And, full disclosure, you know that calling me that once isn’t going to be enough for me…I’m going to want to hear that more from now on.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to keep exploring the deep orange with each other, Master, hm?”

“I guess we will, my little slave, I guess we will.”

Well, folks, tomorrow I was supposed to be announcing the release of my new novel—Sentenced: A Dark Doctor Romance—but my publisher and I have decided to push it back by two weeks. Honestly, I’d rather get it right than rush it, but I was getting pretty excited to share Jens and Leila with you! But they’ll be with us soon enough, I suppose.

So until May 2, I guess I’ll have to come up with some other scintillating, scandalous smut to share with you, hmm? Let’s see what I can cook up…

Sentenced to the Doctor is set to come out NEXT WEEK (Friday, April 18)! For our final excerpt, Leila considers her changing circumstances, some new punishments she’s experienced (what the hell is “The Saddle? ), and how she might be able to endure her ongoing sentence at Repro 629.

Jolting herself awake from a nightmare she could barely remember, Leila found herself back in her cell, hands chained to the wall, wrapped in a blanket and a new set of scrubs, body aching from overexertion, and in desperate need of an orgasm. And the disc on her throbbing clit was still in place. Since arriving at Repro 629, this certainly wasn’t her first night in these circumstances. But something had shifted. 

Since her sentencing, she’d been resolved to resist as much as possible. And her hatred for the Republic was more firmly entrenched than ever. But now Jens was opening her up to a world of experiences, sensations, and feelings she struggled to understand. After each session, he left her skin tingling, her passion roaring, and her senses maddeningly overwhelmed. She’d never met anyone who could read her so perfectly. And it had nothing to do with the myriad instruments and readouts from her time in The Chair. 

His mastery of her body had begun on day one, but his mastery of her soul and her mischievous spirit had been deliciously stealthy and slow-burning. She now found herself craving everything that he could offer her. The pleasure, the pain, the spankings, the discipline, the bondage, the care, the concern…the kindness. After her stint in The Saddle and his gentle treatment when she couldn’t withstand anymore, she envisioned herself curling up in his lap any time she needed support. He’d become her source of discipline and comfort. 

And she wanted both.

Leila and Jens arrive in Sentenced to the Doctor next Friday—I’ll share buy links as they go live!

You’re trembling, I like it, too
And we’re never gonna get us enough of it
What did we uncover? (It’s so good)

A dress in black remember that one
Can’t take it back like I never had fun
If only I could touch her (it’s so good)

We’re changing forms
I’m losing you
You’re black and blue
Only when I touch you

– “Touch,” MOTHXR

Back again with another Submissive Song Sunday, folks! I’ve got “Touch” by MOTHXR on tap for you. Full disclosure for those of you unfamiliar with this group – this whole album is a D/s MOOD, my friends. Like, picture your Dom having this album on repeat for as long as he wants to keep you on edge, and then keeping you there for those extra few beats…those sinful beats that remind you who you belong to…and then…whew…where was I??

Ah, yes…the song! Well, I think the lyrics speak for themselves on this one, but be sure to give it a listen and wait for the ending chorus of “let me sink my teeth in” on repeat… So sinful that you might need to go to confession afterwards!

Have a sexy, sultry Sunday, my friends!