tgstonebutch: (boot)

As you know, my first solo collection, Show Yourself To Me: Queer Kink Erotica, was released in the fall. I am excited to be reading from it this coming weekend in San Francisco!

When: Sunday May 22, 3pm

Where: The Center for Sex and Culture in SF. 1349 Mission St. between 9th and 10th

Who:


  • Avery Cassell is an older genderqueer San Francisco writer, poet, cartoonist, and artist who grew up in Iran. They live with their Maine Coon cat, Lulu, and bake yeasted waffles every Sunday morning. You can find their erotic short stories sprinkled in various anthologies, including Best Lesbian Erotica 2015 and Sex Still Spoken Here. Avery is currently working on a book of more of Behrouz and Lucky's shenanigans, transcribing a collection of aerograms from Iran to the States in the early 1960s, and an illustrated early reader children's book about a eight year old transgender boy and his family.

  • Sinclair Sexsmith is a genderqueer kinky butch writer who teaches and performs, specializing in sexualities, genders, and relationships. They've written atnet since 2006, recognized numerous places as one of the Top Sex Blogs. Sinclair's gender theory and queer erotica is widely published in anthologies and online, and they are the editor of Best Lesbian Erotica 2012 and Say Please: Lesbian BDSM Erotica, both published by Cleis Press.

  • Wickie Stamps is a widely published writer whose work has appeared in The Advocate, OutWeek, Gay Community News and over a dozen short-story collections. Wickie has won accolades for her writing of the staged drama Fugue State (Fringe Festival, San Francisco) and the multiple-award-winning film Foucault Who? Prior editor of both the notoriously hypermasculine Drummer magazine and the equally infamous Socialist Review, Wickie continues to make films, zines, and other work as part of San Francisco’s Heads Will Roll Studios. Keep an eye out for the upcoming Zeboiim, a queerly Southern tale of trauma and crime, and for Io Facc’ l’Omm, a disturbing crossroads of gender and obsession.

  • Xan West refuses pronouns, twists barbed wire together with yearning, and tilts pain in many directions to catch the light. Xan adores vulnerable tops; strong, supportive bottoms; red meat; long winding conversations about power, privilege, and community; showtunes; and cool, dark, quiet rooms with comfortable beds. Find Xan’s thoughts about the praxis of sex, kink, queerness, power, and writing at xanwest.wordpress.com.

What: As Queer As You Want To Be. Four local smutty writers, Sunday afternoon, and you!

A free gift bag of sexy goodies from the fabulous folks at Good Vibrations for the first 15 folks at the show!

Suggested donation ($5-20) — No one turned away for lack of funds!

Avery Cassell will be reading from Behrouz Gets Lucky, a romantic, literary, kinky, and political novel about two older San Francisco queers - a butch dyke gardener named Lucky and a genderqueer librarian named Behrouz.

Sinclair Sexsmith will be reading from Sweet and Rough. Sweet, sensual adoration and dirty, rough sex meet in this anthology of queer smut.

Wickie Stamps will be reading from Io Facc’ l’Omm, a disturbing crossroads of gender and obsession.

I will be reading from Show Yourself To Me, a queer kink erotica collection where you meet pretty boys and nervous boys, vulnerable tops and dominant sadists, good girls and fierce girls and scared little girls, mean Daddies and loving Daddies and Daddies that are terrifying in delicious ways.

I am going to read from my story, “Willing,” which is by far my most romantic story yet. It centers a jaded vampire dominant sadist who meets the willing boy of his dreams, and includes knives, canes, rough body play, and blood sports, some of my most favorite things. Here is a tiny taste.

“I have been watching you a long time, Sir. I have seen how you play. I see the beast inside you. I know what is missing. Those boys at the Lure don’t know how to give you what you really need. They don’t see that they are barely feeding your craving and not touching your hunger. The boys here at Gomorrah don’t see you. They just see their own fantasy. They are simply food. I am strong, Sir. Strong enough for you. I can be yours. My blood, my flesh, my sex, my service. Yours to take however you choose, for as long as you want. To slake your hunger. I would be honored, Sir.”

I take a deep breath, stunned, studying him. This boy offered what I never really thought was possible. He has surprised me again. That alone shows that this boy is more than a meal. He just might be able to be all that he has offered.

I almost leave him there. I am ready to walk away. Fear creeps along my spine. With the centuries I have lived and the things I have seen, this boy is what scares me. There is nothing more terrifying than hope. I rake my eyes over him. He is standing quietly. He looks like he could stand in that position for hours. He has said his piece and is content to wait for my response. Oh, he is more than food, this one. What a gift to offer a vampire. Can I refuse this offering when it’s laid out before me? I step back, looking him over, and decide.

I breathe in possibility, watching the pulse in his throat. My senses heighten further as I focus my hunger on him, noticing the minute changes in breath, scenting him. I want to see him tremble. I want to smell his fear. I want to devour his pain, without holding back. Forget this public arena. If there is even a possibility that I might truly let go and move with the beast inside my skin, his growl on my lips and his claws grasping prey, I know exactly where I need to take this boy.

I do hope to see you this weekend at this awesome event!

tgstonebutch: (boot)
I am pleased to announce that I will be doing another reading in SF in the first week of November. This FREE reading is to celebrate the launch of The Big Book of Orgasms, which is now widely available. I will be reading from “Baxter’s Boy”, a piece filled with queer fantasy and yearning, which has its roots in my identity as a smut writer.

WHEN: Wednesday November 6th, 2013, 6:30 - 7:30pm

WHERE: Good Vibrations Polk Street, 20 Polk Street (at Sacramento Street), San Francisco

WHAT: The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories (Cleis Press) is editor Rachel Kramer Bussel's latest and greatest erotica anthology. This climactic collection of pansexual short shorts are perfect for bedtime reading to a lover or on your own. Whether getting off from exhibitionism, voyeurism, hot wax, dirty talk or a very special pair of blue jeans, the characters in The Big Book of Orgasms go all out for the Big O. From vanilla to kinky, and everything in between, there's something for all erotic readers here.

At this special reading, Bussel will be joined by contributors Lily K. Cho, Malin James, Crystal Jordan, Sinclair Sexsmith, Donna George Storey, B.D. Swain, Virgie Tovar, Jade A. Waters and Xan West (that’s me!) for an evening of steamy stories that's sure to leave you hot and bothered.

Facebook Event Listing: https://www.facebook.com/events/186231794893318/

Fetlife Event Listing: https://fetlife.com/events/201391

I want to tell you about the Bookgasm raffle, where you can win 23 digital copies of Coming Together erotica anthologies, including two with my work: Coming Together: In Flux, and Coming Together: In Vein. Deadline to enter is 11/30/13.

Also, Cleis Press is running an Amazon sale on digital copies of a number of their anthologies, including two with my work: I Like to Watch and Leathermen.

I hope to see you at the reading on November 6th!
tgstonebutch: (boot)

Cleis Press is doing an ebook sale, and two books that contain my erotica are on sale for $1.99 in ebook form, on Amazon:

I Like to Watch: Gay Erotic Stories edited by Christopher Pierce- $1.99

I Like to Watch is a collection of voyeuristic gay smut. It contains "Compersion", a sweet sadistic ride from the POV of a Daddy who's boy is showing off for him by bottoming to two sadists.

Here is an excerpt, from the beginning of the story. (As a heads up, it describes play that involves blades, voyeurism, rough body play, and objectification.)

He calls it showing off for Daddy. He likes to show off for me. It gives him the opportunity to make me proud and get me off, all at once. He picks tops that are wired like me, to get off on tears, fear, control, and pain. Because he loves to play that way, but also, particularly, because he knows that will give me a good show. He knows that watching him cry as he gets fucked is sure to make me cum.

He had a special treat for me that night, had been putting it together for weeks. He set up my favorite chair, my Daddy chair, so that I could see everything. He had even thoughtfully provided a footstool, toilet, and cumrag in the form of Sam, a boy who I had been hot for ever since I met him three years ago. Sam was in service to a couple, Marcus and Franklin, who always topped together. Abe had been lusting after them for as long as I had been eyeing Sam. He could not hide his cat-got-the-cream grin as he showed them around. He wore his eagerness openly, and I wondered if they were thinking what I would be thinking—about slapping it off his face. I settled into my chair, ordered Sam into position, and put my boots up, resting them on his bare back. It was going to be a good night, I could feel it.

They cornered him against the wall, knives in hand, speaking softly to him. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but his eyes got wider and he had stopped breathing. He was scared, I could tell from across the room, and just watching the fear on his face made my dick hard. Marcus had a gloved hand on Abe’s throat, a knife against his cheek, holding him still against the wall, as Franklin swiftly shredded his clothes from his body.

He was trying so hard to be perfectly still, but I could see him trembling slightly. Franklin’s knife toyed with his cock, as Marcus murmured something that made him wince and close his eyes. The moment seemed to last a very long time, that thick, long, shiny blade caressing his dick. He began to breathe rapidly, his fists clenching as he fought to stay still. It was delicious.

They yanked him away from the wall and stood him between them. He was staring into Franklin’s eyes when Marcus punched him on his back. Franklin responded by punching his pecs, and they worked a call and response rhythm together on his body, building it, until it was so fast he had no time to process it. He was struggling, shaking his head, and stomping, trying to take it, but I knew it was too much too fast and he didn’t know how. That was the point, to throw him off, not let him find his footing, and I could see it getting to him.

Franklin spun him around, and began pounding into his back with his fists, as Marcus removed his gloves to put others on. I knew what these must be—SAP gloves. So did Abe, because he growled, as Marcus began to punch his chest. I could see him struggle with it, watched it blossom on his face. He couldn’t stop them, was overwhelmed and off kilter and he always cries when you punch his chest—it’s like a release valve, and this time I got to watch it happening, and savor each moment.

It was glorious, to sit back and watch him struggle against tears, until he released them. It made my cock throb. When I saw Marcus continue to pound his chest with punches while he cried, grinning all the while, saw Abe register that it wasn’t going to stop, and he really could let go, my heart filled up with love for him. My boy was beautiful when he cried.

Leathermen: Gay Erotic Stories by Simon Sheppard- $ 1.99

Leathermen is a collection of gay kinky porn. It contains my story "Willing", where a jaded vampire meets that ever elusive prize: a willing boy who can really take it. 'Nathan Burgoine has described this story as:  "brutally brilliant, a mix of sex, BDSM, and boundary pushing that leaves the reader breathless and unsure of the possibility of a positive outcome. 'Willing' deliciously defies expectations.”

I've discussed this story before, sharing an excerpt from the beginning of the story. Here is a different excerpt from "Willing", from later in the tale when the vampire top begins to really go after what he wants. (As a heads up, it describes play that involves sadistic desire, blood, rough body play, and pain play.)

I want my claws on his chest, now. I want to rip him open, expose him to my gaze, my teeth, my hunger. I want his blood on every tool in my possession. Now. I want to feast on him. I can feel the beast roll through my body.

Not yet. I want more pain to draw it out. I want to see if it's true. I want to know he can take my worst and still want more. I want to see his strength. That is worth delaying my feed. And postponing it will only make it sweeter.

I breathe deeply, focusing my senses as I walk slowly in front of him, inspecting him from every angle. He straightens his posture, easing into a position he can hold. I move close, and grip his shirt, tearing it swiftly from his chest and tossing it onto the floor. That's what I want first. I throw my shoulder into the body slam, and feel the electricity of our skins’ contact. I trace my fingertips along the horizontal scars on his chest, and then grip his nipples, twisting. I am so close, I cannot resist sinking my teeth in and teasing myself. I bite deeply, barely avoiding breaking skin. Building connection. Making my cock throb. Drawing out my beast. I lift up and bite down, feeling his body shift with the pain, laying my mark on him. I claim him like this, first. Begin how you wish to proceed. With fear and pain and teeth and sex all rolled together. I can feel the blood pulsing just at the surface, calling me. I bite down hard and thrust my cock against him. My low growl mixes with the slow soft moan that escapes his lips. I lift my head to meet his eyes, and see that he has begun to fly.

I step back and begin my dance around him. Heaving my fist into his chest. My boot into his thigh. My open hand slamming down onto his pecs. I move rapidly, layering and shifting, gliding around him. Thrusting pain into him in unpredictable gusts of movement. Upping the ante. Ramming my boot into his cock, grinding the heel in and watching his eyes. He is twirling high in the air, lips parted, offering himself to me. His eyes entreat me to use him. And I do, exercising minute control, I coil into him, watching as he floats. This is just the beginning. I constrict his breath, cover his mouth and nose and thrust my teeth into his shoulder, feeling his heart against my tongue.

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