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Cheers,
Cindy
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Traveling 3000 Miles to Research BDSM
by Kathy Kulig
Developing my story EMERALD DUNGEON was more of a happy accident. Writers tend to get story ideas everywhere: an overheard conversation,
a song, a movie, a photograph, a dream, a visit to a new locale. In this situation, it was while visiting a 500 year old castle in Ireland.
I attended a medieval banquet within Bunratty Castle and was entertained by a troupe of musicians and singers playing harps and violins. They offered
goblets of mead (honey wine) and served a four course dinner medieval style (knife only, no forks).
We toured the castle, but never did get to see the dungeon, though I knew there was one. Outside in the darkness, surrounded by fields and forest, a kilted
piper played a haunting tune under the flickering lights of flaming sconces. It was not hard to image a story set here, and using the castle as the perfect setting for EMERALD DUNGEON.
There’s a slight paranormal element that fits with the magical and romantic setting. When I returned home, my mind continued to work on a story. I thought
about a woman from the US who was a harpist and had the opportunity to play with the Irish musicians during the summer. Their regular harpist was on maternity leave and my heroine knew a member of the troupe for the job recommendation.
She meets the hero (a member in the troupe) who is also a Dom and part owner of a leather shop in town. When she first arrives at the castle, she’s dying to go exploring. Even though the castle is closed, she finds a way
in. The smell of smoke has her worried and she investigates its source—the dungeon. There she finds old sconces burning and also interrupts a BDSM scene. Here’s part of the excerpt of that scene:
Darkness crept in around her except for the golden, flickering light from the basement. Walking through another doorway, Dana thought she heard
voices but she wasn’t sure. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
As she rounded a stone partition, the room brightened. Flames flickered within a half dozen wrought iron sconces, a fire burned in a small stone
fireplace. The room smelled of sweet burning wood and damp stone. At the far wall two people hovered in shadows. Dana remained in her circle of darkness at the bottom of the stairs, unable to take her eyes away from the sight.
The woman was naked, her wrists and ankles bound with straps that hung from the ceiling. Her arms and legs were spread wide in a V shape. As Dana
took a closer look, she saw the woman was cradled in a narrow hammock rigging that supported her back and bottom. Her pussy and anus lay open wide and metal clamps were attached to her nipples. Dana winced at the distended
tips protruding from the tight clamps. The woman was also wearing a blindfold. The other person, wearing a hooded robe, was male. She could tell by his bare legs and feet. His back was facing Dana.
A rush of heat, then cold crept through her. Wrapping her arms around her waist, her first instinct was to escape and call for help. Then she
stepped back and searched for a weapon, planning to do some damage to the guy if the woman needed help. Instead, Dana froze at the bottom of the stairs. Attacking this man was not a good idea if the woman was a willing participant.
She would watch long enough to make sure the woman was okay.
There were people who got into this kinky stuff. Why this woman would allow this man to do these things, Dana couldn’t fathom. “More, slave?”
the man in the robe asked the woman.
The woman nodded. “Yes, Master, if it pleases you.” His fingers stroked the narrow thatch of dark hair between her legs, avoiding
the glistening folds of her pussy. The woman squirmed and tried lifting her hips.
Dana managed to breathe in teaspoon-sized portions of air. People did this for fun? It didn’t look like fun. Was the woman in
trouble? Should she stop this? Go for help? Move, dammit.
#
Thanks so much for having me as a guest Cindy!
Kathy’s Links: www.kathykulig.com
1 comment:
Definitely a paranormal place for me, and here's why. A good few years ago, we were climbing up a steep section of Snowdon mountain in North Wales. I was in front and was surprised to see, as I pulled up on a ledge, a beautiful ceramic bottle of Bunratty Mead.
I can picture it now, with its white body, shiny royal blue glazed shoulders and its cork with its round blue knob. Why was it there?
The paper seal had been broken. I shook it and against all expectation it seemed to be full. Well, some things are more important than common sense, so I tried it. A beautiful, mature mead.
We shared at the campsite that night, and blessed the tourist who had carried it all the way from Bunratty and then decided they did not like the taste.
Yup, definitely Bunratty is a paranormal place!
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