#SatSpanks, #8Sunday, and #SnipSun: Bastia: The Early Years

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS

Welcome to Saturday Spankings, Rainbow Snippets, Weekend Writing Warriors, and Snippet Sunday!

Find more spanky fiction at Saturday Spankings!

What if heterophobia were real? What if, instead of religious leaders denouncing love between people of the same gender, a state theocracy decreed, “Our god commands women to marry women.”

What if loving the wrong gender could get you ostracized, imprisoned, and re-educated? In fact, you were turned over to “parents” tasked with re-programming you to live according to their definition of normal?

Yes, we are talking about conversion therapy.

That is, an attempt to “cure” a person of his or her sexual orientation, often (but not always) conducted under religious auspices.

Yes, it really does happen in our world, but it’s the opposite way around. LGBT people are told their identity is wrong, sinful, and an abomination. A perversion, a one-way ticket to damnation, and a morally wrong “choice” to be corrected with persuasion–if persecution can be classified as such.

In Becoming Clissine, I asked what would happen in a world where religious persecution of sexuality was the norm, but the roles were reversed. What if being LGBT were normal, and being heterosexual was not?

As I’ve revisited this world in more recent years, I’ve pondered how this alternate reality came to be. Why would a society choose to disenfranchise a significant portion of its population?

And then I found myself with the story of Altrea, the foremother of Bastia. Years before Bastia (as we know it in Becoming Clissine) came about, a young woman named Altrea lost her freedom and virginity to a man chosen by her father. The consequences of this one decision rippled down for generations and affected another young woman named Clissa.

This weekend’s snippet continues with the story of Terris from last week. Terris has an impressive story of her naming and birth, but near the end of her life she wonders whether the glory was worth it.

(For an audio recording of the entire second chapter, please check out this free post on my Patreon site.)

Bastia: The Early Years – Now available!

 

He told me other countries followed a star in the north, but I couldn’t believe it. How could anyone follow a northern star? We looked to the East, where Mother Sun welcomed us each morning before beginning her journey across the sky. North meant foreigners who worshipped strange gods and women who had no more rights than a child. If a wife displeased her husband, he could divorce her with a single word. If a man slept with half the tribe and fathered an army of illegitimate children, other men slapped him on the back for his “good seed.”

A wife, if she entered into the discussion, would be chided for failing to do her duty.

av-bastia-tey-200x300

What if heterosexuality were a crime?

In the world of Bastia, like must marry like. Basti, the supreme deity, has decreed so. Any deviation results in sanctions, imprisonment, torture, or even death. But how did this society come to be? How can a religion be based on hatred?

In these early chronicles of Bastia, we discover good intentions behind the benevolent theocracy gone wrong. Meet the founder of modern day Bastia, Altrea. Placed in a polygamous marriage to enrich her father, she finds love with one of her sister wives. Their husband’s reaction is swift and brutal. As Altrea struggles to make sense of the violence, she dreams of a world in which one woman can love another.

In this new perfect society called Bastia, justice reigns supreme. No one is above the law. The state will provide for all equally. But as Altrea quickly finds out, nothing is simple. Basti is love. Bastia is founded on love. So what went wrong? How did a land of idyllic happiness turn into the dystopian regime that persecutes a young woman for loving a boy?

Come and meet Karielle and Soris before they reeducate the criminal who dared to love the wrong gender, and ask yourself one question.

Why is love a crime?

Order now!

Save

Save

Save

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#SatSpanks, #8Sunday, and #SnipSun: Bastia: The Early Years

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS

Welcome to Saturday Spankings, Rainbow Snippets, Weekend Writing Warriors, and Snippet Sunday!

Find more spanky fiction at Saturday Spankings!

What if heterophobia were real? What if, instead of religious leaders denouncing love between people of the same gender, a state theocracy decreed, “Our god commands women to marry women.”

What if loving the wrong gender could get you ostracized, imprisoned, and re-educated? In fact, you were turned over to “parents” tasked with re-programming you to live according to their definition of normal?

Yes, we are talking about conversion therapy.

That is, an attempt to “cure” a person of his or her sexual orientation, often (but not always) conducted under religious auspices.

Yes, it really does happen in our world, but it’s the opposite way around. LGBT people are told their identity is wrong, sinful, and an abomination. A perversion, a one-way ticket to damnation, and a morally wrong “choice” to be corrected with persuasion–if persecution can be classified as such.

In Becoming Clissine, I asked what would happen in a world where religious persecution of sexuality was the norm, but the roles were reversed. What if being LGBT were normal, and being heterosexual was not?

As I’ve revisited this world in more recent years, I’ve pondered how this alternate reality came to be. Why would a society choose to disenfranchise a significant portion of its population?

And then I found myself with the story of Altrea, the foremother of Bastia. Years before Bastia (as we know it in Becoming Clissine) came about, a young woman named Altrea lost her freedom and virginity to a man chosen by her father. The consequences of this one decision rippled down for generations and affected another young woman named Clissa.

This weekend’s snippet continues with the story of Terris from last week. Terris has an impressive story of her naming and birth, but near the end of her life she wonders whether the glory was worth it.

My elder brothers and sisters were named after aunts and uncles, grandparents, and esteemed ancestors.

The midwives touched their foreheads. A curse. Some women, crazed with the pain of birthing, lost their minds and delivered curses from another realm. Others feared passing madness from mother to child, and any early signs warranted an elaborate cleansing ritual from our shamans.

When Father heard the story, however, he declared I had been marked by the gods. Terris, the eastern star, shone brightly enough to guide the entire world.

(For an audio recording of the entire second chapter, please check out this free post on my Patreon site.)

Bastia: The Early Years – Now available!

av-bastia-tey-200x300

What if heterosexuality were a crime?

In the world of Bastia, like must marry like. Basti, the supreme deity, has decreed so. Any deviation results in sanctions, imprisonment, torture, or even death. But how did this society come to be? How can a religion be based on hatred?

In these early chronicles of Bastia, we discover good intentions behind the benevolent theocracy gone wrong. Meet the founder of modern day Bastia, Altrea. Placed in a polygamous marriage to enrich her father, she finds love with one of her sister wives. Their husband’s reaction is swift and brutal. As Altrea struggles to make sense of the violence, she dreams of a world in which one woman can love another.

In this new perfect society called Bastia, justice reigns supreme. No one is above the law. The state will provide for all equally. But as Altrea quickly finds out, nothing is simple. Basti is love. Bastia is founded on love. So what went wrong? How did a land of idyllic happiness turn into the dystopian regime that persecutes a young woman for loving a boy?

Come and meet Karielle and Soris before they reeducate the criminal who dared to love the wrong gender, and ask yourself one question.

Why is love a crime?

Order now!

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

#SatSpanks, #8Sunday, and #SnipSun: Bastia: The Early Years

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS

Welcome to Saturday Spankings, Rainbow Snippets, Weekend Writing Warriors, and Snippet Sunday!

Find more spanky fiction at Saturday Spankings!

What if heterophobia were real? What if, instead of religious leaders denouncing love between people of the same gender, a state theocracy decreed, “Our god commands women to marry women.”

What if loving the wrong gender could get you ostracized, imprisoned, and re-educated? In fact, you were turned over to “parents” tasked with re-programming you to live according to their definition of normal?

Yes, we are talking about conversion therapy.

That is, an attempt to “cure” a person of his or her sexual orientation, often (but not always) conducted under religious auspices.

Yes, it really does happen in our world, but it’s the opposite way around. LGBT people are told their identity is wrong, sinful, and an abomination. A perversion, a one-way ticket to damnation, and a morally wrong “choice” to be corrected with persuasion–if persecution can be classified as such.

In Becoming Clissine, I asked what would happen in a world where religious persecution of sexuality was the norm, but the roles were reversed. What if being LGBT were normal, and being heterosexual was not?

As I’ve revisited this world in more recent years, I’ve pondered how this alternate reality came to be. Why would a society choose to disenfranchise a significant portion of its population?

And then I found myself with the story of Altrea, the foremother of Bastia. Years before Bastia (as we know it in Becoming Clissine) came about, a young woman named Altrea lost her freedom and virginity to a man chosen by her father. The consequences of this one decision rippled down for generations and affected another young woman named Clissa.

This weekend’s snippet is from the second short story in “The Wives of Jakal” (last week’s snippet was from the first story). Terris is the second wife of Jakal, and she narrates how she came to him.

(For an audio recording of the entire second chapter, please check out this free post on my Patreon site.)

 

 In my country, Terris means star. It’s an odd name to give to the youngest daughter of a non-inheriting second princess, but my mother insisted. Strange, because she never insisted on anything.

“She will be a star,” Mother told the midwives while she labored to bring me forth. After easy births for all of her earlier children, she groaned and wept for seventeen hours. My tiny feet protruded from between her legs, and screams ripped us apart. “Fiery, all-consuming, and aloft in her own place in this world.”

Later, when the midwives bathed Mother’s forehead and laid me at her breast, she couldn’t remember her words. “Terris? We have no Terrises in our family.”

Bastia: The Early Years – Now available for pre-order!

 

av-bastia-tey-200x300

What if heterosexuality were a crime?

In the world of Bastia, like must marry like. Basti, the supreme deity, has decreed so. Any deviation results in sanctions, imprisonment, torture, or even death. But how did this society come to be? How can a religion be based on hatred?

In these early chronicles of Bastia, we discover good intentions behind the benevolent theocracy gone wrong. Meet the founder of modern day Bastia, Altrea. Placed in a polygamous marriage to enrich her father, she finds love with one of her sister wives. Their husband’s reaction is swift and brutal. As Altrea struggles to make sense of the violence, she dreams of a world in which one woman can love another.

In this new perfect society called Bastia, justice reigns supreme. No one is above the law. The state will provide for all equally. But as Altrea quickly finds out, nothing is simple. Basti is love. Bastia is founded on love. So what went wrong? How did a land of idyllic happiness turn into the dystopian regime that persecutes a young woman for loving a boy?

Come and meet Karielle and Soris before they reeducate the criminal who dared to love the wrong gender, and ask yourself one question.

Why is love a crime?

Pre-order now!

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

#SatSpanks, #8Sunday, and #SnipSun: Bastia: The Early Years

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS

Welcome to Saturday Spankings, Rainbow Snippets, Weekend Writing Warriors, and Snippet Sunday!

Find more spanky fiction at Saturday Spankings!

What if heterophobia were real? What if, instead of religious leaders denouncing love between people of the same gender, a state theocracy decreed, “Our god commands women to marry women.”

What if loving the wrong gender could get you ostracized, imprisoned, and re-educated? In fact, you were turned over to “parents” tasked with re-programming you to live according to their definition of normal?

Yes, we are talking about conversion therapy.

That is, an attempt to “cure” a person of his or her sexual orientation, often (but not always) conducted under religious auspices.

Yes, it really does happen in our world, but it’s the opposite way around. LGBT people are told their identity is wrong, sinful, and an abomination. A perversion, a one-way ticket to damnation, and a morally wrong “choice” to be corrected with persuasion–if persecution can be classified as such.

In Becoming Clissine, I asked what would happen in a world where religious persecution of sexuality was the norm, but the roles were reversed. What if being LGBT were normal, and being heterosexual was not?

As I’ve revisited this world in more recent years, I’ve pondered how this alternate reality came to be. Why would a society choose to disenfranchise a significant portion of its population?

And then I found myself with the story of Altrea, the foremother of Bastia. Years before Bastia (as we know it in Becoming Clissine) came about, a young woman named Altrea lost her freedom and virginity to a man chosen by her father. The consequences of this one decision rippled down for generations and affected another young woman named Clissa.

This weekend’s snippet follows last week’s introduction.

So when Jakal, a handsome newcomer, appeared and offered a herd of cattle as my bride price, Father grew thoughtful. I, the daughter of an ordinary clerk, could bring in a bride price commensurate with the daughter of a king? What fool would turn down economic security for his old age?

Father said yes.

Mother said no.

Father wouldn’t have beaten her just for saying no. Mother disagreed with anything Father said, on principle. But her “no” had no weight, either. Without his agreement, all of Mother’s marriage negotiations disappeared like dust scattered into the wind.

No, Father beat Mother for threatening to kill herself and me before she’d let “that heathen” touch me.

 Bastia: The Early Years – Coming October 20!

 

av-bastia-tey-200x300

What if heterosexuality were a crime?

In the world of Bastia, like must marry like. Basti, the supreme deity, has decreed so. Any deviation results in sanctions, imprisonment, torture, or even death. But how did this society come to be? How can a religion be based on hatred?

In these early chronicles of Bastia, we discover good intentions behind the benevolent theocracy gone wrong. Meet the founder of modern day Bastia, Altrea. Placed in a polygamous marriage to enrich her father, she finds love with one of her sister wives. Their husband’s reaction is swift and brutal. As Altrea struggles to make sense of the violence, she dreams of a world in which one woman can love another.

In this new perfect society called Bastia, justice reigns supreme. No one is above the law. The state will provide for all equally. But as Altrea quickly finds out, nothing is simple. Basti is love. Bastia is founded on love. So what went wrong? How did a land of idyllic happiness turn into the dystopian regime that persecutes a young woman for loving a boy?

Come and meet Karielle and Soris before they reeducate the criminal who dared to love the wrong gender, and ask yourself one question.

Why is love a crime?

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

#SatSpanks, #8Sunday, and #SnipSun: Bastia: The Early Years

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS

Welcome to Saturday Spankings, Rainbow Snippets, Weekend Writing Warriors, and Snippet Sunday!

Find more spanky fiction at Saturday Spankings!

 

What if heterophobia were real? What if, instead of religious leaders denouncing love between people of the same gender, a state theocracy decreed, “Our god commands women to marry women.”

What if loving the wrong gender could get you ostracized, imprisoned, and re-educated? In fact, you were turned over to “parents” tasked with re-programming you to live according to their definition of normal?

Yes, we are talking about conversion therapy.

That is, an attempt to “cure” a person of his or her sexual orientation, often (but not always) conducted under religious auspices.

Yes, it really does happen in our world, but it’s the opposite way around. LGBT people are told their identity is wrong, sinful, and an abomination. A perversion, a one-way ticket to damnation, and a morally wrong “choice” to be corrected with persuasion–if persecution can be classified as such.

In Becoming Clissine, I asked what would happen in a world where religious persecution of sexuality was the norm, but the roles were reversed. What if being LGBT were normal, and being heterosexual was not?

As I’ve revisited this world in more recent years, I’ve pondered how this alternate reality came to be. Why would a society choose to disenfranchise a significant portion of its population?

And then I found myself with the story of Altrea, the foremother of Bastia. Years before Bastia (as we know it in Becoming Clissine) came about, a young woman named Altrea lost her freedom and virginity to a man chosen by her father. The consequences of this one decision rippled down for generations and affected another young woman named Clissa.

Here, we meet Altrea and begin her journey.

The first time I saw my father beat my mother, I ran away. Not because he hurt her—all husbands beat their wives—but because of what he said to me.

“Basti have mercy on the poor fool who wants to marry you.”

That was the reason for the beating, you see. Mother had chosen a nephew of her neighbor as my husband-to-be. Farget was the quiet and civil sort of man who would land an advisorship to our king within ten years’ time. Mother wanted me, her only child, to live well.

For the honor of marrying into the priestly clan, Father would have to provide a dowry worth several years of his income. He had no sons requiring an inheritance, but he also had no sons to provide for his old age. There would be no arrangement with Farget.

 Bastia: The Early Years – Coming October 20!

bastia

What if heterosexuality were a crime?

In the world of Bastia, like must marry like. Basti, the supreme deity, has decreed so. Any deviation results in sanctions, imprisonment, torture, or even death. But how did this society come to be? How can a religion be based on hatred?

In these early chronicles of Bastia, we discover good intentions behind the benevolent theocracy gone wrong. Meet the founder of modern day Bastia, Altrea. Placed in a polygamous marriage to enrich her father, she finds love with one of her sister wives. Their husband’s reaction is swift and brutal. As Altrea struggles to make sense of the violence, she dreams of a world in which one woman can love another.

In this new perfect society called Bastia, justice reigns supreme. No one is above the law. The state will provide for all equally. But as Altrea quickly finds out, nothing is simple. Basti is love. Bastia is founded on love. So what went wrong? How did a land of idyllic happiness turn into the dystopian regime that persecutes a young woman for loving a boy?

Come and meet Karielle and Soris before they reeducate the criminal who dared to love the wrong gender, and ask yourself one question.

Why is love a crime?

Save

Save

Save

Save

Thursday’s Thankfulness, 3 days early (or 4 days late): Stunning reviews for Mira’s Miracle!

edca_mirasmiracle

Today, you can read the second half of my interview with Maren Smith on her blog! Don’t forget that you need to comment on both part one AND two in order to enter the contest for the cinnamon oil.

Find out more about Bill Emerson, Miranda Hardwick, and how Maren managed to push all of my F/F desire buttons at once. During an interview when I was trying to be professional, too. MAREN! 😀 Plus, learn more about Trinity and the role of a Nurse within the Castle.

As well, please read this stunning review by Erzabet’s Enchantments:

I fell in love with Ana’s book Desire in Any Language and was thrilled to see what came next in Mira’s adventures. Hana was still a bit of mystery at the end of the last book- I admit I was pretty transfixed on Mira’s fascination with her tutor myself.  Finding out more about Hana and Mira’s relationship was very exciting. Going to the Castle on vacation was even more so. All the possibilities-especially in a shared universe like this one. When Mira gets to the Castle, she finds out that the luxury vacation she thought she was getting is very different from the reality that awaits her. Each step took me deeper and deeper and I didn’t want it to end.

Thinking about how this book made me feel left me with twisting emotions indeed. I loved it completely. It explored age play and that is something I have discovered is a trigger point in most cases. So…I identified with Mira’s terror at being touched by the male teacher in the school. When something bad happens to you like what she experienced, it leaves scars. I will be the first to admit it-I still have them and they pop up and the damnedest times. Journeying with Mira at the Castle, I felt like I was there with her as she was dressed in in children’s clothes and made to behave as if she were a child. It was hard for her and for more than one reason.

Full review continues here. It’s worth the visit to read! Wow. When I labor over a book never to hear responses afterward, it can be disappointing. Then Mira’s Miracle came out and the response was wonderful! Here’s crossing my fingers that it will continue. I bet even Cat will like ageplay more than she thinks, and Irishey, too. 😀 I’ve promised Irishey that I will accept her challenge: She said I could write about the dynamics between bubble gum and concrete and still keep my readers interested. Later this week, I will write a very short (100-300 words) piece about bubble gum and concrete. You can all be the judge whether I’ve fulfilled Irishey’s mandate. 😀

Plus another 5-star review from Kristin Elyon:

5 STARS PLUS!! This book was d*mn near perfect for me! I looooooved it!!!! If you LOVE The Master of the Castle series by Maren Smith, like I do then this story is just an added bonus! Ana’s amazing characters visit that castle! All the characters, the interwoven storylines, the drama, the love, the passion, the angst, the fear, the doubt, the sheer happiness – it was all so good!! I know I really like a book when I start reading it really slow, taking in all the details, because I simply don’t want it to end! That’s how this one was for me! One of the best books I’ve read and it’s f/f!!

Kristin Elyon also wrote this wonderful review of the first book, Desire in Any Language:

Well, I am thoroughly de-virginized now. My Anastasia Vitsky f/f cherry has been popped and I enjoyed it immensely. I’ve heard so much about this wonderful author I just had to take advantage and read her story!

It was a perfect mix of sweet seduction, spanking, wicked activities and loads of emotional connection. For the first half of the book I devoured each page, turning and turning without taking a breath. I can’t wait to read the second book and read more of Mira and see her new adventures!

I am definitely putting Anastasia Vitsky on my must read list and hope to happily devour more of her books in the near future.

Oh, I nearly forgot! Roz posted this amazing review of Editorial Board. Wow! Thank you so much, Roz!

I was thrilled and excited to win a copy of Editorial Board by our very own Anastasia Vitsky in Ana’s individual blog competition over at Governing Ana as part of the 2013 Spank or Treat blog hop.  It has taken me a while to get the chance to sit down and read this and therefore to write this review.  Ana I apologise 🙂  I have to say though, it was well worth the wait!

Ana offered me a number of titles to chose from and I decided upon Editorial Board.  I chose this book because I liked its premise and the main character, Spring Meadows (yes, you read right.  She also has   sister’s Autumn and Summer) sounded appealing to me.  She sounded as though she could be rather Scrappy and that I would therefore relate well to her 🙂

Please visit Roz’s blog to read the rest of the review. Worth the visit, again! I loved Roz’s review so much that I actually took out Editorial Board and re-read it start to finish last night. Now I’m plotting sequels. I’d love to see more dynamics between Rachel and Spring. Maybe Spring drops some bubble gum on the sidewalk…

Giggle.

Thank you to everyone who has read my books, reviewed them on your blog/Amazon/Goodreads/Facebook, told a friend about them, bought one as a gift for a friend, or in other ways shared the word. THANK you! Thank you so much. I’ve just gotten word that Becoming Clissine will receive a 5-star review, too. Wow! For ages I go without a single review or feedback, and then it all happens in a day or two. Is today my lucky day? Sure feels like it.

Oh, and don’t forget to enter the contest for cinnamon oil! SH, you are NOT excused! No trying to cheat. 😀

Love you all. Thank you, each one of you, for giving me such a wonderful response. Bless you.

By the way, I had to giggle at re-reading Cat Victoria in Editorial Board. Probably one of my favorite characters and definitely my favorite non-human character of my books. The image of Kayley trying to walk Victoria on a “leash” made of her belt…is it wrong to admit that my own words made me giggle?

Ah, well. Cats will be cats, and we love ’em anyway.

Dickens Quote

Tuesdays with Ana: Loving our neighbor (Advent Calendar, Day 17)

(Warning: soapbox ahead.)

Daughter of Discipline

Daughter of Discipline is finally available for sale on Blushing books!

(Disclaimer: I use the term “loving our neighbor” because this is a phrase commonly understood by many people. I am not preaching any religious agenda, and this is not an attempt to blindside you with religion. The words are a shortcut, if you will, to explain my message today. We can call it empathy, compassion, tolerance, opening our minds…any number of ways, but “loving our neighbor” was what worked for me today.)

Already it’s been over two weeks, and we’re nearing the finishing line of Ana’s Advent Calendar. I am a little sad and relieved at the same time. This is a lot of time and effort (thank you, helper elves Tara, Emily, Kathryn, Penny, and Kate!) and I will need to get back to focusing on my writing, editing, and other work…but I will miss the daily interaction. *sniff* I hope you’ll stick around after it’s over and join in on Tuesdays with Ana, weekend snippets, and other posts.

Silly Ana, thinking about endings long before they arrive, but what we’ve created here together is special. The sing-a-long was hilarious, wasn’t it? So many neat new songs and videos to enjoy (even if they did make the page blastedly slow to load). A neat story from Sunny, a fun write-along activity from Kate, and some thoughts from Renee about finding Christmas spirit. Plus, of course our lively debate on DD and its merits/shortcomings.

I love Leah’s comment that this is a blog where we talk about spotty knickers on Friday, spanking implements on Sunday, and Fred Rogers on Tuesday. 🙂 That, in a nutshell, is the spirit of Governing Ana.

I had many topics I wanted to discuss today, but each one felt not quite right. Christmas without the commercialism? The joy of grandchildren? How to create Christmas magic as adults, even single adults and/or without small children?

Maybe we will have time for those topics at a later date, but for today I want to talk about this: loving our neighbor.

We’ve already talked about compassion, making a difference, and helping out someone in need. That’s not what I’m talking about today. (Yes, you should still do it!)

Today, I don’t want you to think about the tangible, the material, the monetary, or the physical. I don’t want you to toss a few coins into a donation bucket and write off your good deed for the day (although of course you shouldn’t purposely refrain from doing so!).

I want you to do something harder.

What if it were you?

What if you struggled to raise three small children, your husband left you, you didn’t have a college diploma, and your landlord evicted you for not paying rent?

What if you discovered something about yourself that you would have to either hide for the rest of your life or be expelled from your community, or even face jail time?

What if everything you held dear, everything you knew to be true, everything you thought you’d believed in…turned out to be wrong?

What if you worked your entire life to uphold certain ideals and principles, only to love someone who made you question everything you thought you knew?

When I began my Bastia series with Becoming Clissine, I wrote as a labor of love and my tiny effort at social change.

You see, Clissa is a heterosexual girl raised in a gay world.

Let me hasten to reassure you. This is not a sexual politics post; nor is it preaching a certain agenda.

Instead, I want you to understand and experience, on a visceral level, what it would be like to live in a society where everyone you trusted said you were wrong.

In Bastia, heterosexuals are imprisoned, beaten, stripped of legal status, and thrown to “breeder” camps. Their existence is a shame to their family and country. Their very identity is a crime against humanity.

It’s the story of Clissa, a girl who falls in love with a boy, but it’s also the story of Karielle, the woman charged with breaking down Clissa’s defenses. Clissa is legally severed from her original family and placed with new parents, forbidden to speak of her old family, and treated like a child in an effort to re-program her according to the values of Bastia.

Part of my inspiration for Becoming Clissine came from Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale and George Orwell’s 1984 (both stories of dystopian regimes in which a society breaks its citizens one by one), but it also came from modern, real-life tales of adults inflicting such re-programming onto children.

Mercy Mercy is a documentary (Examiner article here and Danish Film Institute article here) of an Ethiopian child whose HIV-positive parents are told they have fewer than five years to live. Distraught, they agree for their beloved youngest daughter, Masho, to be adopted to a Danish couple. The two sets of parents meet, agree to continue contact, and then Masho and her younger brother are whisked away never to be seen or heard from again. Masho’s parents outlive their five-year prognosis, and in their unexpected health they move heaven and earth to regain contact with their lost daughter. From the first day, Masho’s new parents break down any attempt to express grief, distress, or even an ordinary childhood idiosyncrasy such as a tic.

Will you please watch this scene where Masho is sent away, hungry, from the dinner table? Watch how her new parents interact with her. At this point, Masho has already been denied multiple meals.

(If you understand Danish or Amharic, or you would like to watch even without knowing the languages, here is the first of six parts available on youtube.)

In the end, her new parents abandon her to the Danish equivalent of an orphanage, without ever contacting Masho’s Ethiopian parents who have fought Herculean battles to find out whether their child is all right.

After I had planned Bastia for an entire year, I watched this documentary just before writing. I was sickened at the kind of brainwashing adults feel appropriate to impose on children taken from other countries and families, all in the name of “rescuing” them.

And so when I wrote Becoming Clissine, I wanted my readers to understand, through a child’s eyes, what it feels like to grow up knowing your entire identity is an affront to everyone you love and everything you hold dear.

Am I talking about adoption? Sexual orientation/identification? Race? Class? Privilege? Xenophobia? Imperialism? Global inequities at a socio-political and economic level? All of these, and none of these.

At the risk of giving a spoiler, let me say this:

Karielle lives every day of her life trying to follow the values of Bastia, but she is not a blind robot. She draws the shattered Clissa close to her, pouring out all of her love and wisdom.

In the process, both are changed.

Karielle (and her partner, Soris) is one of the favorite characters I’ve written. (So much so that their stand-alone short story prequel will be featured in Milestones, a DD anthology with Alta Hensley, Sue Lyndon, Renee Rose, Cara Bristol, Jade Cary, and Celeste Jones.) She struggles to live a life grounded in moral and ethical principles. She does, not just what her society says is right, but what she feels is right.

When she comes to love Clissa as her own daughter, her thoughts about right and wrong change.

Yet the irony is that Karielle grows, learns, and changes because she has committed herself fully to living an ethical, moral life. As we grow, our concepts of “what is right” also changes.

Today, I ask you to open your hearts. Sit with yourself, examining your heart and mind. In what way could you find compassion, tolerance, and understanding for someone you might have judged?

In what way can you show love to someone you have dismissed as not like you?

In what way can you place yourself in the position of someone who must face daily opposition simply to live an authentic life?

Today, I won’t ask you a specific question. This is an intense and personal post, and your response may or may not feel safe to share in a public setting. Instead, I’d like to open up discussion to anything you’d like to say in response. There’s no need to list your good deeds or say that you are a good person, just an invitation to share what might feel comfortable for you.

For me, today I will take to heart the words of Paul who has shared his story. Instead of being bitter that he had a difficult childhood in a foster home and children’s home, he created magical Christmases for his younger sister and nieces and nephews. Next week, I’ll tell you the story of my Christmas at an orphanage and how fiercely I wish for all children to have equal rights. I struggle when I watch children, especially those in my extended family, who are spoiled rather than taught to be good citizens. But for now, I’ll only say that Paul’s message has reminded me to open my heart with gratitude for what I have. To not silently decide someone is undeserving because he or she has more than I had, but to give freely of my love, understanding, and care. We are all deserving.

How about you?

Alice Gets Spanked! #Satspanks, #SnippetSunday, #SeductiveSnS, and #Wewriwa

Welcome to Saturday Spankings, Seductive Studs and Sirens, Snippet Sunday, and Weekend Writing Warriors!

On Wednesday, I announced the winners of the first-ever “Happy Spanker” award, meaning an author who contributed a great deal toward the Spank or Treat 2013 fun. Maren Smith and Alice Dark shared the award, and they were offered their choice of gifts. Maren chose to receive The Vengeance of Mrs. Claus, and Alice elected to receive a spanking. The “Evil Queen,” known for her naughty tales of F/F spanking (particularly caning!), is featured in today’s eight-sentence mini-story.

 

The setup: Previously, the naughty Emily Tilton found herself on the wrong side of our formidable Headmistress Blake. After her punishment, Irishey wrote a lively tale of Emily’s plot for revenge. Enter Miss Alice Dark, Head Girl of our naughty bunch. Alice took it upon herself to cane the errant Emily for her misdeeds, but alas! She overstepped her authority and must face the wrath of a Headmistress Blake who reserves for herself alone the pleasure of punishing girls. Poor Alice! Or shall we say, lucky Alice? 😉

 

 

 At Headmistress Blake’s awful pronouncement, Alice spread her skirts and sank to the floor in a graceful curtsy. “I apologize for having wronged you, Headmistress,” she said in a soft gasp. “I forgot my place.”

 

“Then I shall have to remind you,” Headmistress Blake answered, fingering the slender, crooked-handle cane she kept always at the ready. “Be so good as to assume the position, Miss Dark.”

 

Alice rose, stretched her supple arms, and folded herself into the hands-gripping-ankles position she had observed but rarely performed. Her lithe body folded like rippling silk, her taut leg and buttock muscles contracting as she focused on keeping her breath steady.

 

“I shall thoroughly enjoy caning you,” Headmistress Blake proclaimed, and Alice gave a delicious shudder as the woman raised her cane for the first strike.

 

(That’s all I’m allowed for this time, but if there is enough interest I may continue our Headmistress Tales next week. Hope you liked it!)

 

 

Becoming Clissine Choose your own adventure winner!

With the festivities of Spank or Treat over the weekend, I didn’t get a chance to award the prize for the choose your own adventure game last week. We had wonderful storytelling from Joelle, Roz, Minelle, Tara, Cat, Katie, Ami, and Autumn. I loved how everyone joined in the fun, and it was especially great to see newcomers trying their hand at some fiction. For me, that is the best part of reading. When a book creates a new world and invites readers to join in the creation, I feel satisfied. Thank you, each one of you.

I enjoyed all of the entries, and I looked forward to your comments each day. I have to admit, though, that Autumn’s storytelling kept me on my toes! She says this is her first time writing a story, but she certainly knows how to spin a yarn. I may have to actually tell the tale of Gorti and his unnamed friend in Tay of Tre, the sequel. 🙂

Autumn, you can choose your prize from the following options:

1) One book from my backlist

2) A $5 gift certificate to Amazon

3) A character named after you, or you can name a character in Tay of Tre.

 

Let me know which prize you prefer, and we’ll make the arrangements right away. Congratulations, Autumn!

Thanks for playing, everyone! Come back on Thursday for the grand prize announcements for Spank or Treat 2013.

Becoming-Clissine-Cover

#SpankorTreat 2013: A Forbidden Holiday

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IF THE BROOMSTICK FITS, RIDE IT!!! 

Do you like spanking stories, prizes, and Halloween? Do you miss the days when kids came to your door asking for candy, or when you were young enough to do the trick-or-treating? You’re in luck! Spank or Treat 2012 was so much fun that we’ve brought you a bigger and better collective short story extravaganza for 2013.  It’s trick-or-treating for adults, and we do mean adults!

Want to become a Spank or Treat ambassador and earn an extra prize entry? See below!

Even better, participation could earn you a GRAND PRIZE!

Plus, all Spank or Treaters are eligible for free books!

  • Holding Hannah, by Maren Smith
    Available to the first 50 participants!
  • Love’s Reprise, by Cassandre Dayne, Lucy Felthouse, Olivia Starke, Kate Richards, and Anastasia Vitsky
  • Coming to Terms, by Cara Bristol, Jade Cary, Alta Hensley, Celeste Jones, Sue Lyndon, Renee Rose, and Anastasia Vitsky
    Available to ALL participants who complete the Spank or Treat 2013 challenge!

Many authors will also be offering a contest on their individual blogs.  Your comment on their blogs automatically enters you in both the main contest and the individual contests!

What’s the catch?  Absolutely nothing!  We love writing for you and want to thank you for your readership.  Perhaps someone might get a spanking or two, but that’s a reward rather than a catch, right?  😉

Here are the rules:

  1. Visit each blog between the Friday, October 25th and Sunday, October 27th to read the posted stories and excerpts.
  2. Leave a comment answering the story question on each blog.  You will receive one entry per blog for the grand prize drawing.  You will also be automatically entered in that author’s individual contest, if she has one.
  3. If you have visited all of the blogs, visit Ana’s blog to sign up for FIVE bonus entries to the grand prize.
    Deadline is midnight EDT (UTC -4) on October 27th!!
  4. If you successfully completed the Spankee Doodle, Love Spanks, or last year’s Spank or Treat 2012 challenge, you may add “VIP” to your comments.  You will earn THREE bonus entries toward the grand prize.  (Yes, we will be doing this again.  Yes, if you successfully complete the Spank or Treat challenge you can become a VIP for our next activity!)
  5. Visit any of the participating blogs on Thursday, October 31st to find out the lucky winners.  Will it be you?

Like these events? Want to support your friendly spanking fiction authors? Become a Spank or Treat Ambassador! In exchange for promoting this event, you will receive one extra prize entry, AND you are still eligible to participate and win prizes! To find out the details, send an email to ana_stasia2007 at yahoo dot com, with the subject line “Spank or Treat Ambassador”.

For more information, updates, and a list of participating authors, please visit Anastasia Vitsky’s blog.

Like Spank or Treat on Facebook!

Tweet #spankortreat on Twitter!

And now for my story, titled “A Forbidden Holiday.” I will offer the prize of any one book from my backlist (excluding Becoming Clissine) to a random commenter. See below for participation details.

Married for only a few months, Soris and Karielle are still working out their relationship dynamic. Soris, as the “Dis” or disciplinarian and head of the House of Sor, has full authority over Karielle, the “Nur” or nurturer, the submissive partner. Like all marriages in Bastia, theirs was an arranged marriage rather than a match of love. The strong-willed Karielle does her best to adjust to her new Dis’ expectations, but sometimes the communication gaps are too complicated…

“You put up a pagan altar?” Soris ran her fingers through spiky black hair. Strong, muscled fingers on large, powerful hands.

“It’s not a pagan altar; it’s a decoration!” Karielle shot back, but Soris cut her off.

“I said no.”

Soris, golden girl of the academic world receiving accolades as the most promising young expert on Bastian law, sounded bewildered rather than angry. Still, Karielle shivered. She backed up a step, one hand covering her bottom. “No” in the House of Sor meant one thing, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise. Still, perhaps distraction would postpone the inevitable.

“The soup must be ready,” she stammered, answered only by a cocked eyebrow. Karielle scratched the back of her neck. Before marriage, she had thought submitting to her Dis would be symbolic rather than literal. That was how her own parents’ relationship had worked, but Soris’ family came from a stricter tradition. Soris’ exasperating literal interpretation of the law extended to more parts of Karielle’s life than she would have liked.

Soris stepped toward the tree in the corner of their front room, and she lifted a glittery orange-and-black pumpkin paper cutout. Karielle had painstakingly attached a ribbon to the top and hung it on a branch of the tree. The jaunty, toothy grin seemed to mock their sober discussion. Soris slipped the ornament off the branch and turned the paper over.

For the first time in her life, Karielle had no retort, no protest, and no explanation.  “I’m sorry,” she began, but Soris interrupted once more.

“What would the Bastil say if they knew my Nur broke the law I helped to write?”

Karielle dropped to the closest chair. “I didn’t think of that,” she admitted, blushing. She had thought it would be fun to imitate the queer holiday she had read about in her anthropology class, but she hadn’t anticipated Soris’ reaction.

Oh, hell. She knew what would happen; she just hadn’t cared.

Until now.

“I’ll take it down,” she offered, trying to keep the pleading note out of her voice. Soris liked rational discussion, not emotional appeal. “No one saw it. I’ll—“

“Article fifty-five, section ten. All religious activities not sanctioned by the Bastil are punishable to the full extent of the law.”

Karielle took another step backward, a whimper escaping from her tightening throat. “But it was for fun, not serious, and I didn’t actually do anything religious…”

Soris continued as if she had not spoken. With her nearly photographic memory, she could quote entire sections of the Bastian constitution. Then again, she had made Bastian law her life’s work. “Religious activities are defined as any ceremony, decoration, or gathering associated with pagan customs.”

Karielle saw her chance. If she could get Soris talking about her favorite subject, maybe their discussion could remain in the intellectual realm. “It wasn’t Christmas, or Easter, or anything like that,” she argued. “Just Hollow Bean, and no one knew I did it. Didn’t you write that paper on disadvantages of over-literal interpretation of the Constitution?”

Soris nodded toward the hallway. “Fetch your switch, please,” she said. Without emotion, as if she were ordering a Bastil clerk to strike testimony from the record.

Karielle threw her head back, but the words died on her lips. Why should I? Because she had pledged to submit to Soris as her Dis. It’s not fair! A Dis had no obligation to be fair, as long as she didn’t inflict permanent injury. I won’t do it! She shuddered at that one. Soris never punished in anger, but somehow that made things worse. Sometimes Karielle thought the spankings wouldn’t be so humiliating if only Soris would shout a little, or lose control, or seem more human. Discipline from Soris was like being punished by a machine.

She slapped her feet against the tile floor as she huffed her way into the hallway. Selecting the smooth, polished bamboo rod, she slipped back into the front room. “Here,” she offered, holding it out.

At least Soris had not commanded her to prepare herself at the altar. That would mean a ceremonial washing, putting on the penitent’s robe, and offering her bottom and thighs to the watchful eyes of Basti in addition to her Dis.

Soris pulled out the punishment stool, a padded wood-and-leather affair she kept tucked in the corner. Karielle had learned to hate even the sight of the stool, but she sucked in her breath and began ritual confession required of each punishment.

“Forgive me, for I have sinned and am unworthy.” She unbuckled her jeans, allowing them to puddle around her ankles. She dipped her head forward, hoping that her long ringlets would hide the painful blush creeping across her cheeks. No matter how often she performed the penitence routine Soris had taught her, she fought to keep her embarrassment at bay.

Soris guided her across the stool, pushing and tugging to arrange Karielle’s buttocks into prime position. Karielle gave a moan as the blood rushed to her forehead. She gripped the legs of the stool, humiliated by the clinical touch. Soris slid her skimpy blue silk bikini panties to Karielle’s knees with efficiency rather than passion. Maybe theirs was an arranged marriage and maybe Soris preferred intellect rather than lust, but was it too much to ask for her to show desire? Karielle had given up so much for this cool, collected partner. Couldn’t Soris at least make her feel that it was worth it? That Karielle was worth it?

The first tap of the switch came with precision, as always. One light touch followed by the swift, blinding crack of pain. Karielle yelled, cursing herself. Why did she have to thrash around in pain while Soris applied that awful stick? Why couldn’t she have been the one to set the rules instead of having to answer to them?

Sss—thwick! Another stroke cut the lowest part of her bottom cheeks, causing her to stamp her feet.

“Basti!” she swore, then bit her lip. The next whack set her entire backside aflame, and the stool teetered underneath her.

Instead of reassurance, or comfort, or whispers of love, Soris continued to stripe her bottom with stroke after punishing stroke. By the time she finished, Karielle struggled for breath. Her chest felt nearly as raw as her throbbing buttocks, and she rubbed her cheek against the leather padding. Instead of pats or tenderness, Soris gave her a crisp order.

“Into the corner,” she barked, and Karielle was too sore to disobey. She kicked off the tangled heap of her jeans and panties, and she trudged to the corner. What she really wanted was to curl up on her bed and cry herself to sleep, but she no longer had “her” bed. Everything was Soris’ now, and everywhere was Soris’ home.

She hugged her arms to her chest, rocking slightly in her distress. She couldn’t understand her own reaction. It wasn’t as if Soris has been her first choice, even if she did come from a good family. It wasn’t as if she loved this cold fish who spouted rules rather than poetry. It was just—

Karielle shuffled from one foot to the other, holding in her shuddery sobs. It was just…that she was used to being loved. The House of Tan, her childhood home, had been full of tenderness, hugs, and emotional expression. Not just her Nur but her Dis had often kissed and stroked her, praising and noticing each of her efforts. It rarely took more than one spanking for her to correct any misbehavior, and she worked hard to stay in their good graces.

She had known Soris would be a tough Dis, but she had also thought there would be love.

“It’s time for dinner,” Soris barked, without so much as a glance in her direction. Karielle fumbled with her clothing, drawing her panties and jeans back to her waist. She brushed the tears out of her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen, but the tears fell faster than she could dry. She bit her lip. Soris hated her to cry, almost more than she hated disobedience. How stupid had she been, thinking that Soris would laugh and enjoy the joke of celebrating a funny holiday? Why did everything have to be so serious?

“Excuse me,” Karielle blurted out, and she dashed into the guest bedroom. It should have been their nursery, but…she tried not to think about that. She was too young to give up on motherhood.

Behind her, Soris’ footsteps followed. “Dinner’s late,” she said, but Karielle turned on her. Hurt and soreness combined into a rush of anger.

“What in Basti’s name do you want from me? You beat me and I’ll take down the stupid tree, so leave me alone!”

Stunned, Karielle covered her mouth and met Soris’ widened eyes with her own. Consternation marked her features, as if Karielle were an algebraic formula that had proven incorrect.

“Do I have to spank you again?” Soris hesitated, her offer tentative rather than commanding, as if she were asking for permission. Karielle shook her head.

“That’s all you do,” she muttered, not caring what punishments it would cost her. “Spank, like I’m this nuisance you can’t wait to get rid of…”

If she hadn’t felt as raw as a scraped knee, she might have laughed at the confused distress on Soris’ face. Soris was good with technicalities and archaic references, not with messy human realities. She looked as if she would rather hide for a week with her collection of dusty, heavy law tomes.

In spite of herself, Karielle laughed. For the first time, she felt as if she were in charge, or at least an equal. She held out her hand to Soris. “Don’t just spank me and run away,” she explained, feeling as if she were the Dis. “Making up afterward is important, too.”

Soris’ fingers tightened around Karielle’s palm. “But my Dis always said you can’t spoil after a punishment?” she asked. Her look of confusion increased, and something set off a twinge in Karielle’s heart. A Dis was supposed to be in charge, so why did Soris’ vulnerability bring out feelings of submission in a way the switch had not?

“I need you to take care of me,” she said, putting her other hand over Soris’ enclosing her own. And before she could think, she leaned forward on her tiptoes to put her arms around Soris’ neck. Soris staggered backward, and then her arms came up to embrace her.

“You…you want me to…after I…?” Soris brushed back Karielle’s hair, tipping her head back. “When you…?” An arm reached down to skim the horribly aching muscles in her bottom.

Karielle laughed again, gladness rushing through her limbs. “What’s the good of having a Dis if you’re not going to live up to your end of the bargain?” she challenged. She darted in for a kiss, holding Soris to her even as the older woman drew backward. “Love me,” she said, in a rush of confidence and simplicity. “How can I obey you if you don’t love me?”

The shyness in Soris’ eyes made Karielle catch her breath. Had the stern, rule-loving scholar ever dropped her professional demeanor before? Gentle lips reached toward her own, and Karielle closed her eyes in a whirlwind of pleasure. The unbearable, shaming ache of a few moments ago had transformed into a hungry need for intimate pleasure.

“How can you love someone who makes you cry?” Soris asked, with the tenderness of a newborn fawn.

“Then make it up to me now,” Karielle responded, stroking Soris’ cheek. “It can be a new Hollow Bean tradition.”

“Halloween,” Soris corrected, but Karielle shushed her.

“My turn,” she said, and Soris said no more.

.

Note: your comment must reflect that you have read the story. Any generic comments will not count toward the prize drawing.

Read more about Karielle and Soris’ adventures in Becoming Clissine (Bastia, Book One)! The story of their courtship and marriage will be available in February of 2014 as part of Milestones, a sequel to the DD anthology Coming to Terms.

Becoming-Clissine-Cover

What if heterosexuality were a crime?

Betrothed at birth to the daughter of one of the most prominent Houses in the totalitarian theocracy of Bastia, soon-to-be-college-graduate Clissa isn’t sure whether she is ready to undergo the Mar. Once she becomes the Nur, or the submissive partner, to her betrothed she will have to submit all major decisions of her life to the beautiful Helaine whom she has only met once. She must marry a woman, according to the decrees of Bastian law.

Caught between his desire to “get along” and the growing awareness that he is “het” and is attracted to Clissa, Destral kisses her one day as they study in their college library. Shocked at the feelings the kiss awakens, Clissa begins to question everything she has been taught. Did Basti, their deity, really decree that it was sinful for a man to be with a woman? Will her growing feelings for Destral cost her everything that her parents have worked hard to give her?

In a mad attempt to subvert Bastian authority, Clissa and Destral run away to find the Het Pride, a group that preaches tolerance, equality, and peace. Z, their leader, promises that one day hets will achieve equality and freedom. When the Bastian police capture or kills most of the Het Pride, however, Clissa is assigned to new parents for “reeducation” in the doctrine of Bastia. Her new parents are given one mandate: Bring her back to rightness with Basti.

Clissa, lost in a system that is threatened by her very identity, must make her choice. Will she be broken by Bastian authority, or will she find a way to break free? Can true love overcome a harsh regime?