THONGS REQUIRED?!

And the sign read “Thongs Required”.  Gill swallowed hard, looked over his shoulder to where Vernon McMahon, Louie, and several others from the Peak stood buck ass naked.  Even their wives and girlfriends sat back on the beach nude.  Who the hell had put up a sign bearing such?

“How do we comply with this?” Louie asked moving forward.  “I mean it’s a nude beach.  It’s not like we’re going to have those stuffed in a back pocket.”

Vernon clapped his hand over his mouth.  It didn’t do much good.  Gaffs of laughter spilled out.  Gill watched Phil walk up to the sign point at it and then boldly give it the finger.  The bird as some referred to the middle finger cheer many humans used as they drove down the highway of life. 

“Gentlemen,” Tyburn began as he reached the group.  “We’re heading to the bar for drinks and food, aren’t we?"

“We were.  Until that.”  Gill pointed at the sign five hundred yards from the bar.  The overhead sun blocked a clear view into the outdoor bar.  How many patrons complied with the posted requirement couldn’t be determined.  

Tyburn looked back to where Rachel stood shielding her eyes.    She motioned to him with a ‘come here’ wave.  He held up one finger.  Facing back to the group, he asked, “Where do we find those?”

Phil moved back even with the group, opening his mouth ready to speak when  a semi-clad woman walked past them and stopped within a few feet.  She leaned over, sat down the bag she carried and shimmed out of the thong bottom of her bathing suit.  Never mind she was topless.  She stood up, picked up the bag, after bunching her bathing suit bottom in her other hand, and took off trotting down the beach.

Gill didn’t bother to chastise the others standing next to him with their mouths hanging open.  No doubt his gaped in the wind with theirs.  Two men walked out, stopped approximately the same place the woman had.  Each wore swimwear.  Moments later they didn’t.  Their swimwear, gripped in their hand, flapped in the breeze as they strolled toward the shoreline and where their families probably lounged.  

“This is beginning to be a real undertaking,” Phil muttered.

Louie grinned, and pointed as two middle-aged couples walked up.  The men stopped short of the sign, shook out what appeared to be swimwear from the tote bags they carried.  The women with them did the same.  Each pulled the bottoms on.  Tyburn, Phil, Gill and Louie all groaned as they walked away.  The men’s covered fronts weren’t at issue nor were the women’s covered crotches.  Their backsides left plenty to continue catching the air.  

Vernon motioned the group to him.  “Look there’s a swim suit shop down the beach.  Let me procure what we need.”

The group agreed and handed him part of the money they had intended for buying lunch. 

Back out on the beach, Elly and Chloe gathered up the children.  “I thought the guys would be back with food by now,” Phil’s wife Gladys said.

“Me too,” Rachel chimed in.  “Tyburn gets antsy when his stomach growls.”

“I’ll check on them if you like,” Elly offered, pulling on her bathing suit bottom.

“I suspect we all need to go check on them,” Chloe stated putting on her bottom as well.   

Soon the four bottom clad women faced toward the area where the bar and shops marked the start of the beach.  “Bettina are you going with us?” Elly asked pausing near the second sun umbrella close to their belongings.

“Not in that heat and sun.  I’ll be charcoal in seconds.”  Bettina picked up the tube of sunscreen and lathered more on.  “I’ll stay with the kids.  They’re all conked out right now.”  Close to her lay the triplets and twins along with Phil’s kids, eyes shuts as their chests rose and fell indicating they slumbered.

The women made their way to the bar and strolled inside.  Three feet in and off to their right sat their men folk.  Clad as the sign required.  Four sets of male not quite bare arses sat at the bar.  Their towels hung over the bar stools as they perched very precariously on the cool metal stools.  Chloe pointed as she leaned close to the other women saying, “Gee lace and red do become them don’t you think?”

Elly nodded smiling, as did Rachel and Gladys.  The men each wore dark red lacy women’s thong panties.  Elly spoke as the women grouped around her.  “Vernon has a hard time judging sizes and letting a practical joke pass by.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HAPPY WEEKEND GANG!

Never a dull moment with our gang from the Peak.  Let's hope the joke doesn't back fire on Vernon.  Of course all of them did put their red lacy thong panties on.  I hope you enjoyed your giggle as much as I enjoyed mine writing this.  Who's to say that unisex panties don't have a future?

Enjoy the warm weather and stay safe.  Those sudden storms are deadly some times.  Remember to share a good book or two with your spice as you stay safe and warm.   I know I am.

Until Next Week,

Solara

Trust Me...

Penelope walked along the front of the room, her fingers slid, first, along the smooth wood of the massive cross, remembering a naked Burgess and the first time she tied him to it…

“So, let me get this sorted, you intend to tie me to this cross – naked – then whip me bum?” the look on his face was one of interest.

“No, my blue-haired penguino, I’m going to cuff you to the cross, with the softest leather cuffs.  Then I’m going to flog you first, and follow it up with a crop that will make your ass tingle in the nicest of ways.”

“No whip then?”

“Nope, you’re not yet ready for the bull whip.”

That was a good day.  She’d reddened his ass well with the short diamond-shaped crop, then kissed it all better before allowing Burgess to bring her to orgasm…orally.  A few days later, he’d returned the favor by bending her over the spanking bench and introducing his palm to her cheeks…

“What are we doing back here, Burgess? It’s too soon to have another go at your ass…”

“We’re not here for me Pen, this time, it’s your bum that’ll glow a rosy hue.”  He lifted an eyebrow and patted the bench, waiting for me to assume the position.

“And what makes you think your Domme will allow such a thing?”

“This is not a Dom speaking to her sub, Penelope.  This is two switches speaking to each other.” 

He’d surprised her that day, so early in their relationship, with his knowledge of her deepest secret.  She loved being a Domme, but for him, she longed to submit, as well. 

“Is everything the way you want it, Penelope?”

Surprised by the quiet question, Penelope turned to greet her friend.  “Yes, Dante, thank you.  Everything looks perfect for the gathering.”

“Very good.  And I think you’ll find, Edina is immensely skilled at her art.”

“Yes, there are whispers around town that she brings much success to her ‘customers’.  My hope is that she’ll open up and tell the other Doms of this town her true agenda.”

“Is that really necessary?”

Penelope looked over at Dante, “yes, it really is.  Dom’s and Domme’s support on another in this town and we want to support her too.  First though, she needs to be honest with us.”

“Agreed.  I’ll leave you to it then.”

As he turned to leave, Penelope fought her urge to demand answers, but one slipped out.  “Is he safe, Dante?  Really and truly safe?”

Without turning Dante said, “As safe as he can be, Penny, and he’ll be home soon.”

As he stepped from the room, Penelope sank to the base of the spanking bench and softly wept.  She believed Dante, for he’d never lied to her.  Burgess would return.  Until that time she would hold tight to the words he’d whispered in her ear as he’d laid her over the bench…

“Trust me with your secret, my sweet submissive, and we shall forever be one…”

~~~

Just a short bit from me today.  May you forever trust and be one with your love.

Serena

The Mountain Lion King is now available!

It's here! Rebecca beat me to the punch by pre-reviewing yesterday, but I wrote this blog and, by Castiel, I'm going to post it. My first self-published Talbot's Peak novel, The Mountain Lion King, is now up at Smashwords and Amazon. It should be up on Barnes & Noble, Apple, and your favorite e-book outlet within a week or so.

Cougar shifter Rick Donnelly is happy living alone on his mountain and isn't looking for company. Then company literally falls into his lap, in the form of tiger-shifter Nilambari, who's fleeing from her arranged marriage to the vicious Ravi Ghan. Rick has no love for tigers, but for this terrified tigress he's willing to make an exception. Provided he can defend them both from Ravi, who's not about to let his bride-to-be go without a fight.

Regular readers will know this book began as a series of posts here on the blog. The original, now-rewritten opening can be found here. Plus, here's a new snippet to whet your appetite:

Excerpt

Rick stepped in from a night in the foyer and stopped dead. Now here was something you didn’t wake up to every day: a woman trying to wipe the dirt off cave walls. She’d already swept the floor. He could easily picture the bedchamber scrubbed to within an inch of its life, the bed neatly made. “You’re up early,” he said cautiously.

“You’re up late,” she countered. She continued to dust and straighten. “Would you like tea?”

“No tea.” He stared about. Son of a gun, it really did look better in here. But just the same … “You don’t need to do this. Really.”

“I do,” she said. “Really. Do you never clean in here?”

“It’s a cave. You can’t clean a cave.”

“You can make it cleaner. This also.” She reached into a pile she was building on a chair and held up one of his shirts. “This needs to be washed, and the others too, and my own clothes. The sheets should be changed as well. Is there a stream or pool where I might launder them?”

This, Rick thought, is what happens when you let a woman into a bachelor den. He expected to find curtains hanging, and his kitchen didn’t even have windows. Part of him was pleased and touched she’d go to so much trouble. The rest was just bemused.

“Okay, okay. We’ll go into town. They have a laundromat.” Wait. Did he have any change? Scat. Civilization got complicated after a while. That was one reason he had abandoned it. “Just stop sweeping, all right?”

Nilambari’s eyes lit up. She set the broom aside. “Can I visit with Mrs. McMahon? She’ll know what herbs can be harvested here, and what plants are edible. I need to learn this. I will also need a bath.”

“What for?”

She stared at him as if he’d gone insane. “Mrs. McMahon is a fine herbivorous woman. I can’t go before her with fresh blood in my scent. It would be rude.”

Rick made a face. A bath? Wasn’t that why cats had tongues? Anyway, Elly was married to a wolf. He doubted if she found Vern’s scent insulting. His eating habits, maybe.

Still … Rick reminded himself he was speaking to a young female. Their thought processes differed from normal creatures’. “I suppose I’ll need a bath too?”

Nilambari fixed that young female stare on him. Rick gave in. “Fine. No time like the present. The pond should do, now that the horses are gone. Let’s get this mess over with.”

Heat level: mild. Cover by Serena Shay. Nice, no?

Think I'm Under The Wire...

Ok, got wrapped up in proof reading and then in reading Pat's new release, "The Mountain Lion King," and totally spaced out making a post. So I'm going to stump for Pat today.

The Blurb:

Sent to America to marry a man she’s never met, tiger shifter Nilambari runs out on the wedding instead. Fleeing into Montana’s mountains, she’s found and taken in by Rick Donnelly, a cougar shifter and self-proclaimed king of his particular hill. For the past three years he’s lived alone. He doesn’t want a mate and he doesn’t like tigers. But one look into Nilambari’s desperate eyes and he finds his feelings changing.
 
However, the man she escaped is Ravi, son of the villainous Zhere Ghan. He’s even more vicious and abusive than his father. Ravi intends to have his bride—or her corpse—back at any cost. Can the cougar king defeat the tiger prince for the sake of his runaway tigress? 




My take on it so far:

I kind of want to be Nilambari because I just know she's going to end up with all that lusciousness that is

Rick. Pat started this off on the blog, the first few chapters of it, and then finished it up as a feature length story. It is a fresh peek at the Peak and it does have cameos of many of your favorite regulars. I actually kind of fell in love with Rick back when he first showed up and even made a little fan art. He's a hottie, what can I say.

Anyway, you can pick up a copy at Smashwords, or at Amazon, if you prefer. It's going for $2.99, which is a great deal in my opinion. Pick up a copy and settle in for a rolicking good read!

~ Rebecca

The Rogue Stray Cat Struts His Stuff

 
Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Ever hear one of those songs that just tickles you no end? Well, that's your flash scene for today. I hope you enjoy.

~~~~~~

The Rogue Stray Cat Struts His Stuff

"A crash course in Earth culture," Kalina muttered, practicing her use of the English language. She waved her hand over the wall-sized monitor, installing the last of the current information gathered from the world wide web, including the depths of the dark net, and all the Q-clearance intel organizations she'd discovered.

Instead of an AI assassin, she'd become more of a bits-and-bytes spy. Entering the cyberworld as frequency consciousness, Kalina hid out, observing the flash and flow of traffic. Whenever lightning-pulses of secret info appeared, she chased the signature-stamped pulses down to source.

The project to save endangered information on the internet had become a serious priority with Dante. Ever since pages he'd saved to his primitive hard drive had disappeared on the net, the alpha werewolf had become a fiend for storing every last cyber-info bit he could get his paws on. To that end, over the last year's time, he'd hired a  growing team of top-predator nerds.

Now hunting down the shadow-system perpetrators of scrubbed info, had become the favored sport of these shapeshifter nerds, and Kalina had given them tips on how and where to find their prey.

Recently, she'd helped to design the ultimate storage system, along with a secretive shifter who called himself Rogue Stray Cat. Speaking of, Kalina heard him crooning his adopted theme song as he sauntered toward the super-secured room.

"Black and orange stray cat sittin' on a fence... Ain't got enough dough to pay the rent... I'm flat broke but I don't care ... I strut right by with my tail in the air."  With that Rogue Stray peeked through the crack of the sliding door, and grinned at her.

Tall, thin, with an air of regal nonchalance, he strolled inside. The door auto-shut behind him, and he took a quick swallow of his mud java as he called his first cup of coffee. Raising his brows in question, he gaze directly at her. 

"Complete," Kalina answered, then smiled at him.

Rogue Stray flipped back a shock of black and orange hair. "Let's give it a trial run, kiddo. Then prep a program for capturing the latest and greatest on the world wide wiretap."

"Agreed. But first you have to sing... is it the chorus?"

With a smooth flourish of his wrist, he held the coffee mug like a mike, singing... "Stray cat strut, I'm a ladies' cat... A feline Casanova, hey man, that's where its at...Get a shoe thrown at me from a mean old man... Get my dinner from a garbage can."

After an affected wiggle of his dark brows, he added, "I have to tell ya, ET kiddo, the garbage cans around here are gourmet eatin'."

"I bet they are." Kalina giggled lustily. She couldn't help it around him. Even though her sweetheart squeeze, as she whispered in his ear everyday... one alpha wolf shifter, Zortega, the courageous man who had rescued her, and now possessively body-guard protected her daily... he would snarl and bare his teeth whenever Rogue Stray entertained her like this.

Learning he was all snarl and no werewolf-bite, Kalina always soothed Zortega with soft kisses on his large handsome face.

"When is that savage wolf mate of yours due today?" Rogue Stray seriously regarded her. Although, laughter shone in his moon-bright, dark yellow eyes.

Kalina well knew he feline-enjoyed baiting Zortega. With a toss of her long hair, she replied, "He has a long meeting today with Dante, and most of those in the inner circle. Those who patrol and protect Talbot's Peak Territory."

"Ah, then you're at the tender mercy of my claws," Rogue Stray bantered. He swallowed down much of his mud java, and when he looked at her again, the nerdish glitter in his eyes ignited. "Let's see what you've accomplished, little cyber miracle worker."

The next several hours flew by comet-swiftly, as Kalina demonstrated, then explained her crystal cyber library. No spider-net cloud where info could be easily hacked... no, the global information she'd collected was now permanently catalogued inside the specialized crystals she knew how to grow. The thumb-sized crystals dazzingly flickered whenever Kalina accessed them.

"Would you like to hear your theme song?" she asked, once they explored the music library. At his eager nod, she added, "Just start singing."

"I don't bother chasing mice around... I slink down the alley looking for a fight...Howling to the moonlight on a hot summer night...Singin' the blues while the lady cats cry, "Wild stray cat, you're a real gone guy."

Instantly, the immense screen displayed an icon for every recording, every video made so far, and included karaoke renditions. To Kalina's surprise and delight, the center image circled larger. And there he was, her Rogue Stray. Attired in a slouch hat, dark blue sunglasses, and a 'righteous' outfit, he stood in front the microphone. A three-piece band played behind him as he sang the lyrics in a blusie crooning yowl.

"Yep, it's me, kiddo." Pride colored his words. "You aren't going to let that singing cat out of the bag," he added quickly, but in his usual humor-filled tone.

"No. Not if you don't want me to." Kalina instantly knew she owned the image-key to discovering more about him. Perhaps to discovering his past, his origin. Who he truly was... at least, some major-star clues.

"That's the *claw cuts both ways* deal with worldwide access to info about anyone at any time, isn't it?" he quietly asked, his tone almost a purr.

"It is. Tracked, traced, and data-based, as they say." Kalina pointed to the giant monitor to mute the sound. She turned to face him. "It's why Dante examines anyone allowed to work at this level. Their character, I mean. He vetted you. Don't worry, I won't pursue more about you." She smiled to reassure him. "Although, my curiosity is high. I must admit."

"Curiosity killed the cat. In my case, satisfaction won't bring him back, kiddo. I got some mighty mean bad-ass guys on my tail. They don't give a rip or RIP who they eliminate on the way. If you get my drift?"

His words rang true as a space geyser about to erupt. "I understand. Being on the receiving end of bad-guy pursuit myself."

"So, I heard." He gave her a sly wink of comradery. "Enough of this lazin' about. Let's get some work done."

"One of these days, you'll confide in me, Rogue Stray kitty kat. I have one of those listening ears. That's what Zortega tells me."

"Someday," he promised, as they moved toward the master console.

Behind her, Kalina heard him purring-croon, "I wish I could be as carefree and wild, but I got cat class and I got cat style." 

"You do got cat class and style," she threw over her shoulder.

~~~~~~


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

First, Kill the Lawyers

As an officer of the law in Talbot's Peak, Otto Wolffe was used to dealing with weird. Therefore, when the two gentlemen in business suits marched into the Peak's police station, he thought nothing of it. At first.

The taller of the two slapped a document on his desk. "We're here to free our client," he announced.

Officer Otto glanced at the paper, then treated its bearers to a longer scrutiny. The tall one had a thin, pinched face dominated by dark-rimmed glasses and a sheep's tight curly hair. His suit fit him perfectly, every inch impeccable. His partner was shorter, stockier, and hunched his shoulders like a ram preparing to charge. His mouth moved in cud-chewing motions. Unlike the tall one, his suit appeared to have been tacked onto his squat body as an afterthought. He looked like he should be playing Third Goon from the Left in a Godfather movie.

"Your client?" Otto hazarded.

"Yes, our client. A mister … " The tall one consulted the paper. "Mr. Billy Goat." He handed Otto a business card. "We've been informed you've been holding him in your jail—without any formal charges, I might add—for several weeks now. I suggest you and your entire department brace yourselves for a lawsuit."

Otto looked at the business card. Dorset & Merino, Attorneys at Law.

"We've got a goat in lockup," he said. "Somehow I don't think he hired you."

"We've been retained on his behalf. Are you going to release him or aren't you?"

"I don't think you understand," Otto said. "He's not a shifter. He's a goat. An honest-to-Lupa goat. Some paintballers were using him as a lure. Maybe as a target too. His coat was kind of rainbow-y when they brought him in."

"Animal abuse," the tall one said to his partner. "Make a note." The squat one made a snort instead. "We need to see our client, to ensure there has been no further neglect. Do you mind if we inspect his cell?"

"He's not in a cell, exactly. Right now we've got him picketed out back. We leave him outside during the day. He's been grazing on the lawn by the parking lot."

"Have you been paying him?"

"Uh, what?"

"For mowing the lawn," the sheep said patiently. "If you make an inmate work, you're obliged to pay him, even if it's only a token. If we find out you've been forcing a prisoner to work without compensation, that's additional charges."

"He's a frikkin' goat!"

"Then he should have been turned over to Animal Control. By keeping him in custody and treating him as a subject of arrest, you've implied he is indeed a subject of arrest, with all the rights and privileges of any other arrestee. May I ask what he's been charged with?"

"He hasn't been charged with anything. He's a goat."

"Then you've been holding him against his will. That's false arrest, kidnapping, cruel and unusual punishment—"

"I dunno," the squat one said. "Letting a goat graze ain't so unusual. Don't see how you can call it cruel, either."

"All right, we'll let that one slide. The rest, however … officer, your entire department is currently in deep droppings. We may have to go so far as to alert the Mayor."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No," the tall one said. "We're not."

Otto studied their faces and decided they weren't. Lawyers weren't exactly known for their manic sense of humor.

"Let's take it from the top," he said. "You've been hired by somebody to get a goat out of lockup." He checked the paper again, then asked, "You want to tell me who hired you?"

"That's confidential information. I assure you, both we and that person only have our client's best interests at heart."

"Your client's a goat."

"That's irelevant in the eyes of the law."

Otto stared into the sheep's glasses and felt his gut sink to his shoes. Lupa help me, we're going to be here all day.

Just then the squat one spoke up. "Look, you and I know it's a goat. The lamb here, I ain't so sure about. But we been paid, so we gotta do the job. Tell you what: you give us the goat, we take him home to his rightful owner, everybody forgets this happened and we all sleep peaceful tonight. Waddaya say?"

The tall one gaped at his partner. "Joe!"

"Jesus Christ, Alex, give it a rest. This ain't a million-dollar lawsuit. It's a friggin' goat. We'll just call it a plea bargain and let it go at that."

"But—"

"Done," Otto broke in. "I'll be right back with the prisoner."

"We appreciate it." The stocky one added in a stage whisper to Otto, "Fresh out'a law school. You know how they get."

"JoeBob Merino, I'm standing right here."

"I know."

Otto hastily made his escape. He returned moments later with their client on the end of a rope. The stocky one gave the goat the once-over. "Don't look abused to me," he pronounced. "You must have some good grass out there. I say we're done here."

"Not without the paperwork." The tall one produced another document. "If you would sign here and here, and date this here … "

"Fine," Otto snapped. He fished his own paper from a desk drawer. "Here's one for you. Sign there and there."

"In a moment." The tall one adjusted his glasses and proceeded to give the paper a thorough reading. Otto handed the goat's rope over to the stocky one. Lawyer and client regarded each other with chewing jaws and similar sour expressions.

Otto sat back in his chair. I should put an announcement on the bulletin board, he thought. Common sense is now officially dead. One thing you could say about working in the Peak: there was no such thing as a dull day.