Chapter 1 of Shocking Violet

Now you can listen to me read the first chapter of my current work in progress, a queer polyamorous kinky romance novel called Shocking Violet!

Shocking Violet is a queer kinky polyamorous erotic romance novel. It begins when a tg stone butch meets a high femme queer cis woman, and focuses on the ways this new relationship and their exploration of D/s is a catalyst for change, both for them, and the other folks in their polyamory networks. This novel is set in NYC amidst the intensity of trans inclusion activism, and revolves around a group of interconnected queer disabled people who are risking connection, building trust, deepening access intimacy and seeking the changes they need in their relationships and communities.

Text of the chapter appears at the end of this post.

Go here for more excerpts and information about Shocking Violet.

If you want to hear me read live, I am going to be reading a BDSM scene from the novel at Feelmore 510 in Oakland on Sunday October 30! (I will be reading from the scene that is excerpted in my queer kink erotica collection, Show Yourself To Me, titled “My Pretty Boy”.)

Chapter 1


It all began when she took down her hair. Sure, Jax had noticed her before then. The luscious curve of her neck, the big boots so firmly planted on the floor, the way she radiated calm. It was a pleasure to sit behind her, to focus on the nape of her neck throughout twenty five minutes of community announcements that seemed to begin every dyke-centric gathering of queers Jax had ever been to. It was just part of the culture, that the one who announced things was a rambler, and 17 people in the audience had something they had to tell everyone before anything could get started. Sure it cut into the open cruising time after the demo, but Jax didn’t mind. He preferred the silent kind of cruising he could do from his favorite spot in the back corner of the room, even if it was mostly from behind. This femme sure looked good from behind, her dark hair twisted up, revealing her neck, with just a few tendrils teasing along the back of it. By the time the announcements were over, Jax had memorized every curve of the femme’s neck, felt like he knew it, could close his eyes and trace along it, could imagine wrapping his hands around the femme’s throat, what her pulse would feel like under his fingers.

Oh, Jax had noticed this stranger who dressed like she was from San Francisco. Jax knew almost everyone else in the room, so he let himself linger on this newcomer, who seemed anything but a novice. Just because she hadn’t been to a meeting before did not mean that at all. No wide eyes, no rapid pulse, no nervous twitches on this one. Novices always looked like little ones in the Times Square Toys R Us, mesmerized and intimidated by the hugeness of the possibilities. Jax was sure this femme had been around the block, knew the kink scene well, if only because she was so damn calm. Where had she been spending her time? It’s a small queer kink world, especially when you’re polyamorous, and Jax let himself consider. New to NYC? Part of a tiny pocket of a scene in Brooklyn that Jax didn’t know? Burnt out from the scene and dipping her toe back in?

The room burst into laughter at something the presenter said, and Jax decided to pay attention. Laughter was a good sign. Yup, this dyke from Canada knew her stuff. Funny, insightful, offering a useful framework, and it seemed like a few concrete tools for getting deeper into the psychology of play. She had a great rep, so Jax wasn’t surprised exactly, but sometimes a great rep is more about how hot the demo is than whether someone can actually teach. This class had both going for it, and Jax decided to focus on it, taking out his notebook and writing down a question he wanted to think about later, and a phrase that might come in handy. This was why he kept coming back to LAP, not just the cruising, but because he always found a nugget that made it worth it. Something that invoked new lines of thinking about kink. Or if he was lucky, something that inspired his play.

This presenter was on to something, with her idea that you could mean so many different things when you slapped somebody, that being conscious of what it meant to you was a key to more connected intentional play. Something he wished he’d thought about before getting involved with Dinah. But he wasn’t going to think about her right now. That was done. She was gone from his life, gone from his home, Gone Daddy Gone. Something he was more grateful for every day that passed.

Jax rested the soles of his boots on the floor, and pressed down with his feet, hard. In his head, he named five colors he saw in the room. Mahogany, the femme’s hair. Black, her sweater. Burgundy, her lipstick. Cobalt, her glasses. Light blue, the hanky tied round her right wrist. Yum. Light blue and on the right. Wasn’t it lucky that Jax was packing tonight?

Wait a minute. The femme was asking a question. She sounded so stern and nurturing at the same time, as she invited the demo bottom to share her interpretation of what it meant to have the top’s hand on her throat. Her voice was so fucking sexy, and that warm sternness…damn. The whole room went silent to hear what the demo bottom had to say. It was rare that anyone asked demo bottoms real questions. This femme was really something. She had just gently challenged the power dynamic that happened way too often at LAP, where tops are the only ones with voices. And she had done it so gracefully. Jax couldn’t stop looking at her now. That tone as she addressed the bottom…was she a switch? That opened up a range of delightful possibilities.

Then, she took her hair down. First, her hands trailed up her own neck like a lover, teasing her throat from the front as if she was imagining a hand there, then sliding round to the back to rest at the nape solidly. Jax held his breath as he watched. Then dark curls came tumbling down, and with them a shock of dark purple. Jax’s hands fisted in his lap. Damn. That surprise wash of color on the top layer of her hair just flat did it for him. He wanted his hands in her hair, right this fucking second. Wanted to hold on as she begged for an orgasm, to grip it tight as he watched her obey his command to come, to caress it as she sat at his feet. He didn’t just want to hurt her, he wanted to claim her. He wanted her submission. He made himself taste his desire, savor it, for it was new and electric and he was fucking scared of it. No one had drawn out that level of dominance from him in over a year. Not since it went so sour with Dinah.

This felt different, he told himself. This femme was not a big-eyed girl, she was a grown up woman. She wasn’t looking for Daddy to take care of her, or take over her life. She might not be looking at all. She had steel in her core, and would only bend if she needed to, wanted to, ached to. On her own terms.

The littles had come flocking when Jax had first re-emerged from his cave after Dinah moved out. They fluttered their big eyes at him and watched him with awe, hoping. He had gently, respectfully, turned them all away. He was done with that. Daddy had retired. He didn’t want the kind of D/s that would leak into everything, didn’t want to take on the care of anyone full time. He had been considering something else, something different, over the past couple months. A new approach to D/s, one with a hell of a lot more boundaries.

He wanted to see if it made sense to try it with Violet, if she was game. That was her name. Violet. The presenter had called her that, had known her, spoken to her with respect, one femme top to another. Oh yeah. This one was no novice.



The class was wrapping up. Violet was glad. Sitting still for that long was wearing. She needed a good stretch. And a look behind her to see who had done that sharp inhale when she had taken down her hair.

She stood, stretching with her eyes closed, savoring the heat of a gaze on her body, knowing it had to be the same person who had reacted so strongly to her hair coming down. She eased out of the stretch, slowly opening her eyes. And met the butch’s gaze.

Heat, right from the start, a sparky delicious heat zinging back and forth between them. Violet let herself melt a little. There was nothing like an old school butch who knew the power of the gaze. She felt her lips parting in anticipation, and let the silence continue. Those moments before it all began, when it was just their eyes talking, were her favorite. Oh these eyes, they had so much to say to her. Her tongue ran along her teeth as she just held the moment, until she was breathless with it, the room fading out into black and white and the only color the blue of the butch’s eyes on hers. Her cunt started to clench, like it had something it wanted to say to this butch who held her captive with just those eyes.

She had felt those eyes on her during the class, had felt them savoring her neck, eating up the few inches of skin that were bared to others tonight. Her fingers reached up and caressed her own throat as she kept her connection to those eyes, testing, teasing even. Was this butch flirting from the top or the bottom? Would the butch hold her gaze, or be drawn to stare at her throat? If this one wanted to bottom, Violet would be a bit disappointed, but probably still game. But no, those eyes held hers, as a brow raised, and then they hardened. Whoa. She felt a blush creep up her chest and she had to look at her own boots for a moment. Had to, that’s how it felt. Ok. Ok. This was new. But she could handle it. Because it was…Violet couldn’t find the word. She licked dry lips and swallowed. Since when was she lost for words? She settled herself more solidly in her boots, took a breath, and looked up, meeting the butch’s eyes again. They were smiling.

“I’m Jax,” the butch said in a gravelly voice that made Violet’s cunt spasm. And reached out a hand.

“Violet,” she got out. She couldn’t resist, reached out her hand. Jax picked it up, and held it gently, lifting to give her a kiss on the base of her palm. Whoa. This one had moves.

“Very nice to meet you, Violet.”

Violet just swallowed. It was like her throat was stuck.

“Violet, I would like to take you out to dinner tonight, just the two of us, at the Chinese restaurant down the street. Would you do me the honor?”

Violet blinked. Tilted her head, considered.

“Give me a moment,” she said. Jax nodded gravely.

Violet walked over to Roz and gave her a hug, telling her how great the class was. Roz grinned, still high from topping the room.

Violet leaned in and asked, “So this butch named Jax wants to take me to dinner. Do you know them?”

“Not personally, but yeah I’ve heard of him. You know how I told you about the trans butch that was working with these femmes here to remove that horrible party rule at LAP? That’s Jax.”

“Know anything else about him?” Roz always knew everybody. You had to if you worked the queer kink circuit like she did.

Roz grinned at Violet, her black eyes dancing. “He’s polyamorous. A dominant, and the kind of sadist that is known for playing hard.”

“Oh?” That had promise.

“He’s got a few boys he plays with regularly, but no serious partners, not for a while. Used to teach classes about Daddy play, but I heard he stopped flagging hunter green. Might just be a rumor from a girl he said no to, though. He hasn’t taught in like a year.”

“Hmmm.” No serious partners. Not a good sign. And a Daddy. Were all the hot butches Daddies? Well, maybe a retired Daddy. That might be ok. Those eyes sure were something.

“You should go for it. Honey, you seem all aflutter, and that’s a good thing. Let him flirt and see what happens. If he asked you, he ain’t looking for a little girl, is he?”

“No he is not. No one ever mistakes me for one of those.”

“Mmmhmm. That’s the truth. Now run along and enjoy your dinner. I gotta greet the public. See if you can show up at Lust tonight. This girl here has earned a reward, and I know she’d love to get kicked around with those hot boots of yours.” Roz stroked the back of the girl’s neck.

“I’ll see what I can do. I’m so tired these days. You know.”

“Yeah. I know. Well, if you show up with that hot butch, I’ll know the dinner went well. If I don’t see you, let’s talk soon, ok? I miss my personal Violet time.”

“I know, sweetie. I miss you too. You will be at Brunch Sunday, right?”

“As if I’d miss a chance to attend the famous Femme Brunch. Oh I will be there, in my finest.”

“Can’t wait to see it. Enjoy your public, darlin.” Violet kissed her cheek, and then walked back to her chair. Jax was there in his chair in the corner, watching her walk towards him, his eyes on her hips. She took a breath, and decided to leap. How else do you know?

3 thoughts on “Chapter 1 of Shocking Violet

  1. Pingback: A Roundup of Things I’ve Written About Trauma and Abuse | Kink Praxis

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