Tag Archives: humiliation kink

Release Blitz: Ponyboy by AE Lister

Ponyboy | AE Lister

The Braided Crop Ranch #2

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Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: April 12th, 2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 71,200

Buy Links:

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Blurb

Owen Lipke is looking for adventure. When he hears about a ranch in the Muskokas catering to kinky men who don’t want to settle for backroom amateurs, he signs up in a second.

At the Braided Crop Ranch, Owen finds what he’s looking for: A sex-positive space with safety protocols and Doms (trainers) who know their business. And a stable full of well-behaved ponyboys to prove it.

Owen thinks his trainer, Kamal, is hot as hell but finds being a ponyboy isn’t as intuitive as he expected. As he struggles to learn the basics of equine pet play under the firm hand of his trainer, he finds himself falling for the experienced older man.

And perhaps Kamal is developing a thing for the young, adventurous newcomer. But there are rules about fraternizing with staff at the ranch. And Owen wonders if it’s wise to fall in love with the pragmatic trainer who unravels him layer by layer to expose his deepest needs and most secret proclivities.

But perhaps wisdom is overrated. And maybe the rewards of adventure are only achieved when you abandon caution and take a huge leap of faith.

Excerpt

Ponyboy
AE Lister © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Shadows and dim lighting made the inside of the club appear deceptively edgy. The Stocks boasted a selection of the most overrated brews and clientele in the city, in my opinion. But this particular club was one of the few places I could go to try to find the kind of man I was looking for.

“Hey, Lipke, what are you doing here again?” Sandro smiled, clapping a hand on my shoulder and taking the stool next to me. “I thought you had the real deal? You know, a nice cozy apartment with your man.”

“We broke up,” I said, staring at the bar and trying not to let the fact I didn’t feel much disappointment about the end of my relationship bother me.

“Ah, shit, that’s too bad,” Sandro replied, but I saw a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes as he motioned to the bartender. “Hey, a drink for my buddy here, Paulo.” He turned back. “What are you having, Owen?”

I shook my head and tossed the dark hair out of my eyes. It was getting way too long in front. I’d been meaning to get it cut, but I was so unmotivated to do anything these days. “Thanks, but I’m hoping for some action tonight.”

I never trolled for Doms with alcohol in my system. I’d learned that lesson a long time ago.

“How about a Coke, then?”

“Okay, sure. Thanks.”

He was trying to butter me up because he wanted to hook up. He’d tried with me before, but I had been in a relationship that didn’t allow for “extras” so I’d had an excuse to turn him down.

“A Coke for Owen, please. And a ginger ale for me,” he said, throwing a tenner on the bar.

“Thanks,” I said again, looking Sandro over and wondering if he could give me what I wanted.

He wasn’t a bad-looking guy; a little heavier in the gut, but it worked for him. He had a decent “Daddy” vibe going on and appeared to be pushing forty. Maybe he had the experience to give me something…more. Something solid and demanding and ruthless.

The Stocks was an underground fetish bar, where I’d come innumerable times to find the type of hook-up I was after. But anyone I’d ever gone home or played downstairs with, had disappointed. It wasn’t operating on the down-low. The club was literally underground, which made it even darker and dingier inside than most places—almost claustrophobic.

Everyone played games. That was often the point with fetish and BDSM, and a lot of guys were perfectly happy with that. But I was tired and bored with it all.

I’d had a connection with Simon, my ex, but even he couldn’t give me what I wanted in the end. I couldn’t define that particular desire but I knew I hadn’t fulfilled it—ever.

At night I’d dream about a Master who took total control, put me in my place easily and perfunctorily, without a thought to my comfort, yet took care of my needs like they were his own. This mystery man became a shadowy, elusive presence in my waking world. I’d never encountered an actual human being who could measure up to the Dom in my dreams. Maybe no one ever would.

Maybe I should make the most of what I could get, here and now.

Sandro handed me the Coke and winked. “So, you’re a free agent tonight,” he said.

I grinned. “Yep. Trolling for Doms.”

He laughed, looked away, and then back. “Wanna come home with me? We could have some fun.”

I picked up my glass and sipped the cold, sugary-sweet syrup, considering his offer. “You live close?”

Sandro nodded. “Down the street. Walking distance. You can leave your car here, and pick it up later, or in the morning if you decide to stay over.”

It was thoughtful of him to offer me the whole night. Such an invitation was rare in this environment, where most people simply wanted a quick fuck or a fun kink session and didn’t give a shit what you did with yourself after.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Really?”

I found his excitement flattering, if misplaced. I didn’t feel like anything special these days, but I was up for a quick screw.

“Sure. But let’s enjoy our drinks first. We’ve got all night.”

Sandro had fair-to-good conversation skills. He was intelligent, perceptive, and witty. I warmed to my decision over the time it took to finish our drinks. Maybe the evening wouldn’t be a washout after all.

Sandro sighed. “I wish there were more kink places in this city. I mean, this place is fine but it gets boring after a while.”

I agreed with his observation completely. There were several options across the river from Ottawa in Quebec that offered more hard-core entertainment, but in terms of convenience, this place was closest. And even when I had ventured as far as Gatineau or Montreal, I’d been largely disappointed.

“I hear Toronto is the place to be for this kind of scene,” I said. “Maybe I should move to the Big Smoke.”

“Maybe. I thought about it a couple of times. But my family is here, and my job.”

“I don’t know if I could sacrifice the green space,” I said.

The easy access to nature was one of the things I loved about Ottawa. There were a multitude of parks and treed spaces; bike paths, beaches, and water everywhere. And the Gatineau hills were right across the Ottawa River. I enjoyed hiking and camping more than almost anything else. Spending regular time in nature was essential to my being. I doubted I’d be happy in a concrete city like Toronto.

Then again, was I happy here?

“I heard about this place in the Muskokas,” Sandro was saying. “It’s a ranch, but not the kind of ranch you’d expect in that touristy area.”

“Huh?” I asked. A ranch? I had absolutely no interest in horses.

Sandro nodded. “It’s set up like a real ranch, but instead of horses, they get men to dress like ponies.”

If I had been a pony, my ears would have swung toward him. “What? No way.” Something in me thrilled to the thought of it.

He laughed. “Yeah, they put them in harnesses and bridles and make them do stuff. It’s all set up to make the experience as realistic as possible. At least that’s what I heard.”

I pretended not to be as interested as I was. “Hmm. Weird.”

“Yeah, well, I guess some guys get off on that stuff. Not me. I’m happy with the regular kink experience myself, although it would be nice to have a few more bars to go to.”

Men in harnesses and wearing bridles? A ranch for pony fetishists? Why hadn’t I heard about this before? My balls ached at the thought of it. I’d never explored animal role-play, but the thought of being a pony at a fetish ranch rang every one of my bells. Maybe a fetish ranch was the kind of immersive experience I needed. Sure, it was still a game, but maybe they did it so well you forgot it was a game and became fully invested in submission and objectification.

I drained the rest of my glass. “Ready to go?”

Sandro beamed as his gaze raked over me. “Absolutely.”

Ponyboy New Release

Meet the Author

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters.

They have published many other books, one of which (Beyond the Edge) received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association–International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

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A mixed bag for this pony play BDSM romance

55801700._SY475_Ponyboy by A.E. Lister

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

So, like with book one, there were bits I really liked and times when I was very frustrated with this book.

Owen is an utter charmer, he’s delightful, secure in knowing the kind of Domination he wants and perfectly willing to stretch his comfort boundaries.

Kamal is more of an enigma and was one of my biggest frustration points. We don’t get his POV, only Owen’s, and I wasn’t given enough information to get any kind of reading on him at all, other than surface level.

He’s a ponyboy trainer, he likes to Dominate, he’s Muslim (but again that seemed only as a nod to him being an unusual ethnicity for a BDSM Dom because “religion”) rather than having any actual bearing on the plot narrative.

The ending, like book one, felt rushed and overly sudden.

***SPOILER***

There is so much made during the whole book about how the trainers can’t get into a sexual relationship with the ponyboys – although they can physically bring them to orgasm during training etc – but then when that obstacle is resolved by the end of the book, we still don’t get a scene of them having sex together.

That seriously irritated me. It was made such a big deal out of that Kamal is fighting his attraction to Owen and he’s making him almost break the rule and he wants to f*ck and then we don’t get it at all. Big fail for me, sorry.

***END***

I did think there was a bit of contradiction about how the ranch was founded versus what was said in book one. That may be a case of the anonymous ranch owner (mentioned in book one) just handing it over to Andrew and Kamal to establish. The way it read here was that the ranch was theirs.

However, there were also some great bits. The ponyplay, as in book one, is exceptionally well done, as was the brief switch into puppy play. The sense of place is also done well, the ranch and its setting is very easy to visualise, as are the other ponyboys on site with Owen.

The ponyboy scenes are all intense, more so with Owen and Kamal as they do go deep into humiliation and objectification play, and I really loved the threesome with one of Kamal’s old friends who visits the ranch.

So, overall, a good read, but I slightly preferred the set-up of book one as I felt that narrative was more rounded out.

#ARC kindly received from the author in return for an honest and unbiased review

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Release Blitz: Off the Ice by Avon Gale & Piper Vaughn

Off the Ice | Avon Gale & Piper Vaughn

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Release date: March 25, 2019

Publisher: Carina Press

Universal link: https://books2read.com/offtheice

Previously published; newly refreshed by the authors

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Blurb

He’s hot for teacher

NHL star Tristan Holt may be at the top of his game, but he’s already thinking one play ahead. Hitting the books in the off-season means he’ll have a business degree to fall back on when it’s time to hang up his hockey skates.

But his straightforward plan is complicated by his undeniable attraction to his sexy sociology professor, Sebastian Cruz.

Impressed by Tristan’s brain as well as his brawn, Sebastian can’t help lusting after the gorgeous jock. With tenure on the line, Sebastian won’t break the rules by becoming involved with one of his students—at least, not until the end of term. Once final grades are posted, though, their naughty mutual fantasies can become reality.

Tristan’s not sure he’s up for being the poster boy for openly gay hockey players, but Sebastian’s never been the type of man to keep his sexuality—or his relationships—in the closet. For Tristan, being with Sebastian might mean risking more than just his heart.

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

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Excerpt

For a time the music distracted him. Tristan swayed in place, caught up in the energy of the now-substantial crowd and enjoying the rare opportunity to hear his favorite songs played live. That wasn’t always easy for a classic rock fan whose favorite groups no longer performed, and who, generally speaking, wasn’t all that into cover bands.

But soon the novelty wore off. Tristan noticed the time and the distinct lack of one Sebastian Cruz. Like the flame of a candle, his excitement flickered and abruptly sputtered out, leaving nothing but wispy smoke in its wake.

Concerts were a lot more fun when you had someone else to share the experience with. Couples and groups of friends filled the venue. Tristan was one of the few who watched alone, conspicuous in the way he stood apart from the others.

He frowned, deposited his empty bottle on the tray of a passing server, and made his way to the bar for another beer. During the regular season he normally limited himself to two, preferring to get his carbs from food instead of alcohol, but fuck it. Training camp didn’t start for nearly another two months. After being stood up, he was due another drink or three.

Tristan snorted. Why was he kidding himself? Professor Cruz never had any intention of meeting him. He’d probably regaled his highbrow academic friends with the story of his student’s clumsy attempt to ask him out. No doubt they had a good laugh about it while drinking wine and eating canapés or whatever the hell else snobby professors did in their spare time. Tristan already knew what Sebastian Cruz thought of athletes.

He’d just flagged down a bartender and placed his order when he sensed a presence at his side. Tristan turned and found himself face-to-face with the man himself. Professor Cruz was dressed casually in dark jeans, boots, and a button-down shirt. He’d left the top two buttons undone, and Tristan’s gaze automatically went to the prominent collarbones covered in smooth golden-brown skin. All the moisture fled his mouth at the thought of putting his lips to the divot at the base of Professor Cruz’s throat. Tristan wanted to bite and lick there, inhale until the scent of sweat and man made him drunk with lust.

“Mr. Holt.”

Tristan swallowed hard. “Professor,” he rasped. Sebastian, Tristan really wanted to call him. The name appealed to him as much as its owner. Tristan wished he had the right to use it whenever he pleased.

The bartender delivered Tristan’s beer and grabbed the money Tristan had placed on the bar top. He jerked his head at Professor Cruz. “What can I get you?”

“Single malt, neat. Glenlivet, preferably. If not, the best you have.”

Of course he would drink Scotch and order it neat, the sexy bastard. Tristan pictured him as the leading man in some classic black-and-white film—crystal tumbler in one hand, a thick cigar between his lips, a plume of smoke curling around his sharp-jawed face. The image sent blood rushing straight to Tristan’s cock. Shit. There went all his bitter thoughts from a few minutes before, carried away by the rumbling bass of Professor Cruz’s voice and the sight of his dark-brown eyes and darker, finger-tousled hair.

Tristan almost sighed. He was weak—he knew it—but how could he be strong with Professor Cruz standing here looking like that? Tristan wanted to drop to his knees. Only awareness of his surroundings kept him upright.

After starting a tab, Professor Cruz inclined his head, silently encouraging Tristan to follow. They moved away from the bar to a small gap along the back wall.

“How’s the band?” Professor Cruz asked, his eyes fixed on the stage.

Tristan watched, wetting his mouth as Professor Cruz took a slow sip of the amber liquid in his glass. “They’re good, I think,” Tristan replied. “I stopped paying attention a little while ago.”

Professor Cruz glanced at him. “Why?”

Tristan smiled wryly. “I was waiting for you.”

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About the Authors

Piper Vaughn is a queer Latinx author and longtime romance reader. Since writing their first love story at age eleven, they’ve known writing in some form was exactly what they wanted to do. A reader to the core, Piper loves nothing more than getting lost in a great book.

Piper grew up in a diverse neighborhood in Chicago and loves putting faces and characters of every ethnicity in their stories, making their fictional worlds as colorful as the real one. Above all, Piper believes there’s no one way to have an HEA, and every person deserves to see themselves reflected on the page.

Connect with Piper:

Website: pipervaughn.com

Facebook: facebook.com/pipervaughn

Twitter: twitter.com/pipervaughn

Instagram: instagram.com/piper.vaughn

***

Avon Gale lives in a liberal Midwestern college town, where she spends her days getting heavily invested in everything from craft projects to video games. She likes road trips by car, rock concerts, thunderstorms, IPAs, Kentucky bourbon and tattoos.

As a queer author, Avon is committed to providing happy endings for all and loves to tell stories that focus on found families, strong and open communication, and friendship. She loves writing about quirky people who might not be perfect, but always find a place where they belong.

In her former life, Avon wrote fanfiction at her desk while ostensibly doing work in non-profit fundraising for public radio and women’s liberal arts education, and worked on her books in between haircuts and highlights as a stylist. Now she’s a full-time writer, delighted to be able to tell stories for a living.

Avon is represented by Courtney Miller-Callihan of Handspun Literary Agency.

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