Today I am so pleased to welcome J.R. Gray to Joyfully Jay. J.R. has come to talk to us about his upcoming release, Clouded Hell. Please join me in giving him a big welcome!
My favorite scene from Clouded Hell isn’t really a scene, it’s a common theme of small parts running throughout the book. I had a great time coming up with unique punishments for Remi, because he’s a masochist and constantly vying for pain from Dante, I had to think outside the box. Dante isn’t one to give anyone what they want, as a good dominant, he’s thinking about the long term, and what his submissive needs.
I’ve also tried with each of my BDSM themed books to get away from feeling like there is a routine to BDSM. Through my own play, and talking to other members of the community, I’ve found there really is no standard kinky relationship. As different as people are, their likes and dislikes are so different. So Dante needed to be creative, and he needed to be different.
What I came up with is a rather sadistic form of denial, which Remi loves and hates. Have a look:
I held his gaze as I turned the candle between his thighs. He braced for the searing pain of the wax, but it never came. From the angle I stood, it looked like I was pouring the wax on his balls, but in reality it hit the metal between his thighs an inch away. His chest heaved when he realized this fact, and he searched my face. I stepped around the table and lowered my face so it was an inch from his.
“When you disobey me, it won’t always be pain you get. I know what you want, and denial can be more harsh than even my cane.” My breath blew over his lips, and I could see in his eyes that he believed me.
I moved the candle next to his face and let him watch the wax drip down on the slab. He squirmed and groaned as his fingers tightened on the metal. He pushed his feet against the steel and lifted his hips off of it as a low whimper left his lips. He was milking reactions from me, and I tried my best to shut them off. He was already too good at pushing my buttons. I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction.
I survive on avoidance. Physical pain to avoid the mental. Disposable flesh to avoid relationships. Work to avoid attachment. My club became my empire of avoidance. Inside the ring millions are won and lost. The fight is confined to breaths, actions and reactions, fists and pain. Rules don’t exist. Only my opponent exists.
I’d been avoiding my needs for far too long when Remi stumbles into the Inferno and I’m hungry. The promise of a submissive with no attachment is far too tempting. I can’t resist him. He was only supposed to be a distraction, but I know I’ll never get over him. There isn’t a chance in this clouded hell.
When not staying up all night writing, J.R. Gray can be found at the gym where it’s half assumed he is a permanent resident to fulfill his self-inflicted masochism. A dominant and a pilot, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. He frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns and conversations, to jot down notes or plot bunnies. Commas are the bane of his existence even though it’s been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder. If Gray wasn’t writing…well, that’s not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave, insanity or both. The idea of haunting has always appealed to him. J.R. Gray is genderqueer and prefers he/him pronouns.