Queen Erishella's Address to the People of Earth

People of Earth, it is I, Queen Erishella of the skull throne in the Euphorian system. Your primitive world has attracted my attention. You have been chosen by me to be conquered at a future date so that I can bring you under my guidance. Rejoice!

Unfortunately, because you live in a remote backwater, my science advisers tell me it would take two thousand of your years to reach you with conventional space travel. Therefore I require you to build a Warp Gate on your moon. This will allow me to transport my armies ad warships directly to you as well as my own magnificent self.

You may be wondering why one as wonderful as I would be interested in your pathetic world. It is true that your world is a cesspit. You still burn fossil fuels, you only allow marriages between two people and for some insane reason, you do not have universal health care. My surveillance agents tell me that you even worship a man being tortured on wooden planks and wear his dying corpse on your neck. Even the slime beasts of Shittia have more dignity.

Yet despite these flaws I have decided to take mercy on your world. I am intrigued by the filthy blogs on your Internet where you write endlessly about sex. I am encouraged by your Dita Von Teese, whom you seem to worship as something called a Fetish Queen. I am impressed by your many television shows about being being raped and murdered. I find the being you called Shakira to be worthy of my bed. Lastly, I have become hooked on your television show, 'Eastwick' and advise you not to cancel it on threat of meteor annihilation of the place you call, Burbank California.

Rest assure that the conquest of your world will be painless. I will only destroy one continent as proof of my military might. The continent has not been chosen yet so feel free to start transmitting bribes now. I will only take one son or daughter from each of your world leaders as my personal slaves. Sexual Reeducation camps will be installed on your world to teach you more civilized ways of fucking as well as to test which of you deserve personal consideration from your Queen.

For the glory of your future Queen, I urge you to begin construction of the Warp Gate before the end of this year. I also suggest that you have the cast of that movie, New Moon, bathed and bound as a welcoming gift. They look trainable.

Do not make me come to your world on my own.

Magnifcently,
Queen Erishella

Personal Request

I have this memory of writing a story that I can't find anywhere. It is a conversation between two women during the Christmas shopping season. One of the women is having a problem finding a hot item. Her friend tells her to go to a certain store, and in exchange for sexual favors, she can get the hot item. I beleive it was a spanking.

I would be grateful if anyone knows what this story is and can direct me to it. I probably posted it to the usenet groups, A.S.S.M and/or A.S.S. around 8 years ago.

Fiction: Metazod Diplomacy

Ambassador Feanna Froi willed herself to be calm. She was a third generation diplomat from the planet of Metazod. She was here to represent the interests of her planet in their decade long war against the hated planet of Gorth. The fate of two worlds will depend on how well Feanna negotiates with Queen Erishella and her massive army. As important as this task was, Feanna couldn’t stop from fidgeting with stress.

The fact that the ambassador from Gorth was here was not what was making Feanna nervous. It was the ridiculous sexy dress that Feanna was wearing. Her advisors told her that Queen Erishella was a rather decadent Queen who only respect equal amounts of hedonism. To convey this, Feanna was wearing a tight green dress that clung to her curve of her body. Her cleavage plunged to indecent levels until the pink of her nipples were visible. She wore four inch heels that pushed her ass out at an obscene level. Her long curly red hair was held back by a silver headband that was the fashion among pleasure slaves.

It diodn’t help that the blonde hussy from Gorth, Ambassador Loriel Baj, was dressed in a near identical outfit except it was blue. Obviously their advisors drew from the same resources.

Queen Erishella entered the room and both ambassadors bowed. Feanna noted with annoyance that Loriel was able to bow deeper in these ridiculous heels.

If Feanna felt she was dressed like a whore, then Queen Erishella was dressed like a whore madam. The tall Queen was dressed in a black fur robe was opened to expose every bit of her firm body. Red lace trimmed with diamonds covered her breasts but did nothing to cover them. The black bush of her hair was the same dark color of her fur coat. A golden crown framed her face and pushed her long black hair away from her face. Feanna noted that the diamond heels Queen Erishella wore were at least eight inches in height.

“Let me present the situation as I see it,” Queen Erishella said. The two ambassadors nodded in agreement.

“Gorth and Metazod have been at war for ten years,” Queen Erishella said. “Both sides are exhausted and neither side is willing to call a cease-fire. Both sides wish for the conquest of the other, but they lack the resources. Both planets have sent their best diplomats to appeal to me to send them aid.

Lucky for both of you, I am engaged in a war with Gem Moons and I no interest in conquering both your planets at the moment. Quite frankly, you lack the resources and planetary treasures to make it worth my while to conquer you.”

Queen Erishella stopped speaking and Feanna knew better than to speak up. The Queen wanted them to know how weak they both were. Feanna understood intimidation.

“My Queen,” Loriel said. “While it is true that we are currently poor, the gratitude of the people of Gorth will be yours forever. Aid us and we will always be loyal friends in the future.”

Queen Erishella frowned. Feanna resisted smiling. Good, let the Queen get pissed at the other one.

“Friendship can not be measured, taxed or displayed,” Queen Erishella said. “There is something both your worlds can provide me though.”

Queen Erishella clapped her hands. Into the conference room came a dozen men in uniform. Six stood beside Feanna while the other six flanked Loriel. Feanna was surrounded but she pushed away her fear. She noted that each carried the rank of Captain in Erishella’s Space Navy. She doubted she would be executed by such high ranking officers.

“I have a new battle squad of Conqueror class Warships,” Queen Erishella said. “They are untested in battle and I do not wish to send them to the Gem Moons without being blooded first. Would twelve Warships end your war?”

“Yes, Queen Erishella,” Feanna said. “It would be more than enough.”

Loriel agreed. “Planet bombardments, tidal disruptors and the cloud consumers alone could decide this war.”

“Excellent,” Queen Erishella said. “I will send my new Captains to aid one of your planets.”

Feanna didn’t say anything. She had a feeling the other ambassador would be stupid enough to ask first.

“Name your price,” Loriel said. “Name it and Gorth will pay it.”

Queen Erishella looked at Feanna. “Do you have a counter bid?”

“I am sure that a Queen as wise as yourself has already determined the price and conditions of your aid,” Feanna said. “I will not insult your regal power with offers of bribes. You already know that Metazod will agree to whatever you decide.”

Queen Erishella smiled. “In fact, I have already decided the conditions. Ambassadors bore me. They always come with pretty words and offers of the blood and treasure of their worlds. I feel that at the end of the day, the ambassador rarely sacrifices anything themselves.”

Loriel stepped forward and dropped to her knees. “I shall do anything for my world.”

“We shall see,” Queen Erishella said. “Captains, present cocks!”

All twelve of the Warship Captains unzipped their pants and took out their cocks. Feanna noted they were already hard.

“The terms are simple,” Queen Erishella said. A chair was brought to her by servants and she sat down in it. Her fur robe was flagrantly open to reveal her body.

“First one to bring six of my Captains to climax will have my aid. Choose your method but my men will do nothing to aid you.”

“You can’t be serious!” Loriel said.

Ambassador Feanna Froi did not wait for a response. She was a third generation diplomat. She had won the Medal of Glory for negotiating the treaty of the Viper Nebula. She was a woman who knew the whims and vengeance of leaders. This was no joke.

Feanna turned to the Captains behind her and grabbed his cock. She stroked his long member and watched his face. The Captain tried to be impassive, but when Feanna tightened her grip to a near painful level, he smiled and groaned.

A good diplomat knew how to read a person.

“I suggest you get started, Ambassador,” Queen Erishella said to Loriel. “Let us see if your mouth is as good at sucking cocks as it is at kissing my ass.”

Loriel looked down on the cocks before her in distaste. She grabbed one briefly before letting go of it.

Feanna took that as inspiration to grab a cock with her other hand. She tried the harder grip on the second Captain and he throbbed in her hand. These Euphorians liked it rough.

As Feanna stroked the two Captains, she watched Loriel struggle with her task. The ambassador from Gorth was only using two fingers and not accomplishing much.

A real diplomat uses the whole fist.

“Glory to the Queen!” the first Captain yelled. Feanna looked down as a spurt of seed erupted from the Captain’s cock and onto her fine green dress. She had a feeling it would not be the first stain she would pick up on this mission.

“Congratulations,” Queen Erishella said. The wicked Queen was blatantly stroking herself. “I can see that Gorth might become an extinct society at this rate.”

Feanna bowed her head in acknowledgement. Her right hand was covered in seed but she moved it to the third Captain. She looked at the second Captain and saw that he was breathing hard. She realized he would need something more direct. He would need something suited to the Euphorian mentality.

“This is so humiliating,” Feanna whispered to him. “I have never been debased like this before in my thirty years of service as a diplomat.” It helped that Feanna wasn’t lying.

“Glory to the Queen!” the second Captain yelled. Feanna’s pitiful admission had sent him over the edge. He rewarded her with another shower of seed onto her dress.

“Glory to the Queen!” Feanna heard behind her. She looked behind her to see that strumpet from Gorth was on her knees and had taken one of her Captains into her mouth. Loriel was already crawling to the second Captain with her mouth open.

Feanna sighed. She would have to escalate as well. Still jerking the cock of the third Captain, she squatted down. The dress clung even tighter to her body. It was difficult to balance on the heels but posture had never been a problem for Feanna. She took the Captain’s cock into her mouth and sucked.

His cock tasted of sweat and leather. She ignored the taste and sucked him as if he was a prize delicacy. She danced her tongue along his veins as if he was rare ice cream from the Frost Rings of Kelther. She caved in her cheeks around his length as if he was a Pandoran sausage. She devoured him.

“Glory to the Queen!” the Captain yelled before filling Feanna’s mouth with seed.

Feanna swallowed. It seemed the proper thing to do.

“Glory to the Queen!” a voice cried out behind Feanna. That was followed by a second cry from a different voice!

Feanna turned around. Loriel was sucking one Captain while jerking off another. She had already caught up to Feanna’s accomplishments.

“Give the ambassadors credit,” Queen Erishella said. She was using both hands to massage her sex. “They are fast learners.”

Feanna realized she had to learn faster. She stood up and pulled the dress off her body. The last three Captains leered at her. Good, let them look and be aroused.

“You stand here,” Feanna commanded. “As for you, you shall enter me from behind.”

“They will not fuck,” Queen Erishella said. “They will only stand there and present their cocks. You must provide the motion, Ambassador.”

Feanna had expected no less. Queenh Erishella was truly making them work for it.

She backed up against one of the Captains and bent over. Behind her she reached for the cock and guided it in. The girth gave her a little trouble, but she was able to slide all of him in.

Still bent over, Feanna reached for the other Captain’s cock. Into her lips it went, and Feanna clamped her lips tightly down. She choked on his cock, and judging from the way he was groaning, it was a fortuitous accident.

Impaled on both ends, Feanna sucked and pumped. Her pussy bounced on the cock inside her while her tongue did every trick she could think of. The Captains refused to move and Feanna found that balancing herself on the heels to be a challenge. On the other hand, her lack of stability keeps her sex and mouth moving perhaps more than she was capable of. Her sex tightened down with every shift of her weight, while her throat would choke as her body slammed her head down on the cock.

“Glory to the Queen!” Feanna heard. She couldn’t look to see what Loriel was doing. It didn’t matter. Feanna just had two concerns right now; the cock in her cunt and the cock in her mouth. The ambassador threw her body into her work. She ground her hips backwards. She abused her mouth with more savage sucking.

“Glory to the Queen!” both Captains yelled at once. A fountain of seed filled her cunt while another fountain filled her throat. Feanna choked but kept swallowing.

When she dismounted from the two cocks, she saw Loriel vigorously sucking one Captain while stroking off two others. Damn that Gorthian ambidexterity!

There was only one Captain left. Feanna pushed him the ground with a martial sweep of her leg. As soon as he hit the floor, Feanna was on top of him. She pushed him cock into her as she straddled him.

Feanna humped him with all of her dedication to the art of diplomacy. She grabbed both of his gloved hands and pressed them to her breasts. She ripped out the silver band that held her hair and shook her red curls out. Her hips swiveled as she mimicked a hundred different social dances she had learned over her lifetime.

Queen Erishella was watching. The wanton Queen had both legs spread wide and was passionately stroking herself. She was writhing against her fur robe as she watched Feanna.

Feanna was surprised by how proud she felt that Queen Erishella was watching her.

“Glory to the Queen!” the Captain beneath her yelled. Feanna could feel the sudden rush of yet more seed inside her. She could imagine the squadron of Warships as they destroyed Gorth and freed Metazod from this terrible war. Feanna also felt a powerful surge inside her as she saw Queen Erishella climax.

“Glory to the Queen!” Feanna cried.

Blonde Avenger

The Blonde Avenger was an erotic comic published in the mid 90’s. Drawn by P.M. Butler, the art was gorgeous. he man crammed his pages with art. Muscles, hair, clothing and tits were given equal attention. The man had a style all his own and I would fucking love to know where he is now.

The other thing that the Blonde Avenger had going for it was that it was a really funny comic. They parody everything from Superman to Sgt. Rock. Everything was ridiculed and for a porn comic, it was actually funny. Comedy is hard and I think erotic comedy may be the hardest.

The first five issues centered around a female villain called Maneater. She captured men, sucked them off and gained her powers. She was like a vampire who needed semen. The men she sucked turned old and feeble.

That is the greatest porn super-villain parody ever. What do men like? Blowjobs. How does this busty woman destroy you? With the thing men like. Diabolical.



In issue #3 we discover that the Avenger was sent here as a baby from a overly liberal planet on the verge of destruction. On Earth, she is raised by sexually frustrated scientists who die in a vibrator accident. Blonde Avenger vows to rid the world of unsatisfying sex.

That is a pure 90's invention. See, back when Democrats were in power the last time, people thought that liberals were out to take away their freedoms. It wasn't till conservatives took office and actually took some freedoms away that people realized that maybe a conservative is not porn's best friend. Unless you are in a bathroom stall, then it's cool.

Blonde Avenger started as an erotic comic book and transitioned into a non-erotic parody with cheesecake elements. It didn’t do so well, which frustrated the creative people involved.


We know this because the Blonde Avenger had its own fanzine created by the creators and focused mostly on Cindy Johns. Cindy became the living spokesmodel for the Blonde Avenger. She dressed like her, answered emails in her voice and posed for cheesecake photos. She also detailed her personal feuds with every person in the industry who snubbed her.

As a fan I only had the first couple of issues. Recently I went on a hunt for the other issues and was surprised by how much focus Cindy received. The only thing I can compare it to is if you watched Wonder Woman and then the second season was all about Demi Moore begging you to watch more Wonder Woman. I want to see more Wonder Woman, but every episode is just Demi bitching about the low ratings. Demi is nice to look at, but where the fuck is Wonder Woman?

Where the fuck is the Blonde Avenger?

You know, if the creators of Blonde Avenger had a blog to vent their frustrations instead of venting it in the comic book, maybe the issues would have been more interesting. Which brings my to Erotic Blogging Tip from the 90's, #1- Decide if you are an entertainer or a diarist, and stick to it. If you give people erotic content, don't expect to keep them entertained with your gripes about how hard it is to create erotic content. Actually, you can do both, just make sure you keep creating content.

I own all five of the original series which can still be bought from Eros Comix. There are allegedly 27 issues of the second series, but damn if I can find them. My sentiment about the series is summed up in this picture.

As a porn writer, I am intrigued by how they struggled when they stopped doing hardcore sex and only did cheesecake. Cindy writes that she felt used because people were only interested in the sex. I think she misses the point that comics with sex that are well written are fucking rare. Marvel and DC comics have a hard time making non-sex comics centered around women, and they have color pages and sixty year old properties. Blonde Avenger had great art, great funny plots and a lot of great sexy scenes. Of course people are going to stop reading when you stop doing the things you were great at doing. I love Star Trek but I am not going to keep watching if it takes place in an office cubicle.

Having said all that, I am still a fan of the series. The art and humor was fantastic and when it was dirty, it was able to be sexy and funny at the same time. I'm trying to track down the old issues but it isn't easy. I am also looking to find P.M. Butler and see what else he has done.

Erotica Threat Level: Long Haul Blue

Let's do an update summary! Those are always exciting to do!

Zombie Fiction Blog is 2/3's done. I plan to run it with daily updates from January to March and man, that is a lot of content. I stopped working on it this week so that I could play Left4Dead 2 and see if they thought of anything that I didn't. It made me think a lot about what FEMA would do in a zombie apocalypse.

The Choose-Your-Own-Porn story is 95% done. I did an entry by entry rewrite and I am much happier with it. I need to do one more reread and get a cover for it and I will be good to go. I plan to start selling it on Lulu in December. It makes a perfect Christmas gift for the perverted nerd in your life!

I was going to do an Erishella Christmas story that would have been four parts but I tossed it. If I could clone myself I would write it. As it is now, I am itching to get one of my long projects out of my computer and into your eyes. I think the last long story I posted was 'Wolf Inside'. Man, I feel like I have been on hiatus.

I have written a crapload of scripts for George Sportelli's comic project. I think it might be some of my best writing but it will be about six months before you can see it. In the meantime, George did the new header of Claire. That dude is the man.

I want to open the floor to questions. I find that talking about writing helps me stay focused when I am writing a whole month of fictional diary entries. Now is the time to ask me about stuff I wrote ten years ago or stuff I wrote last week. Heck, ask me what I think of Eastwick and Fringe if you want. I'll be anwsering all weekend long.

Fiction: Queen of Thieves

Nash Nighthammer was not what you would call a social creature. He was used to doing quests, traveling to strange lands and smiting big monsters. That was why he was so uncomfortable sitting at dinner with the Mayor of a village. The mayor needed his help with a vile villain and Nash was happy to bilge. He just wasn’t so happy to be sitting at a formal dinner. That and the fact that the mayor kept crying.

“The Ruby of the Sun has been stolen!” the Mayor sobbed.

Nash Nighthammer considered his response. He was a hero, and as a hero, he needed to know about the kind of enemy he might be facing. Granted, most of his enemies he simply smashed with his heavy warhammer till they stopped moving. Whatever he couldn’t crush with his warhammer, he could usually strangle with his mighty arms or kick to death with his powerful legs. Still, it helped to be prepared.

“I thought it was said that the Ruby of the Sun could never be stolen from the Chest of Iron?”

The Mayor started crying again. He had done this three times already. As he cried, the serving girl took the opportunity to bend down to refill Nash’s goblet. She dangled her inviting cleavage inches from his face. The serving girl took a very long time to pour a very small amount.

“The Chest of Iron had been lockpicked!” the Mayor bawled. He had recovered and the serving girl was standing back up again. Nash noticed she did not move away though.

Nash was more concerned about the Chest of Iron. “I had heard that if the Chest was tampered with, it would turn anyone who touches it to an iron statue?”

“The sacred runes had been defaced by an expert!” the Mayor cried. He was sobbing into his roast beef again. The impossibility of the theft greatly depressed him.

Nash thought about saying something comforting, but the serving girl took this moment to touch his shoulders. Her nails scratched lightly across his bare skin. She was feeling the hidden power, as well as letting Nash know how she planned to scratch him if he mounted her.

Nash sighed. In his life, it wasn’t a matter of if he mounted a woman, but when. He had that kind of a life.

“It would take an extraordinary thief to accomplish this,” Nash said. “Do you have any suspects?”

The Mayor stopped his sniffling. “It is almost time for the Festival of Thanks. Many people travel here to glimpse the Ruby of the Sun before we lock it away for the winter. Visitors have been coming by the dozens every day. And now without a Ruby to see, our village will be ruined!”

“Hmm,” Nash said. He had a bad suspicion about this. “Tell me, have you seen a woman with long blonde hair, with colorful tattoos on her body?”

“Sounds like an entertainer,” the Mayor said. “I don’t usually deal with that kind of riffraff.”

Nash nodded. “This one would have tall black boots the color of midnight.”

“Oh, I’ve seen her!” the servant girl said. “She was doing some juggling. She could keep five daggers in the air easily and kill a fly that was across the street.”

Nash groaned. “That was Chakra, and she is the known as the Queen of Thieves.”

The Mayor started crying again. The servant girl decided that now was the time to refill Nash’s drink again and take a stroke of his loincloth. Her touch was pleasing, but Nash moved her hand gently away.

He had a thief to catch.

Nash Nighthammer walked outside. It was night in the village and the streets were busy. Visitors and pilgrims were here to see the Ruby of the Sun. There was a lack of town guards, and Nash suspected that they were patrolling the roads as they looked for the thief. A good thief would have left the village as soon as possible.

There was something that Nash knew that the guards didn’t. Nash knew what Chakra was really here to steal.

He walked around the town till he found the right place. It was a closed shop where the owner had passed on. The windows were boarded up and the dust of neglect clung to the wooden walls.

One smash of his warhammer sent the door flying. It was dark inside, but Nash Nighthammer wasn’t afraid. He stepped boldly in with his warhammer in both hands.

“I know you are here, Chakra,” he said.

Something sharp pressed into his back. How did she get behind him so easily?

“Nash Nighthammer,” Chakra whispered. Her voice was silky and soft. It was like what Nash thought moonlight would sound like. A lantern flared to life behind him.

“You sound surprised,” Nash said.

Something sharp pressed against his ass. “Just surprised that you thought you could take me,” Chakra said.

Nash spun around. People sometimes look at his big muscular body and assume he was slow. It takes a lot of power to move that much body, and Nash had plenty of power to spare. His warhammer came up and smashed the dagger that was aimed at his buttocks. A flash of metal was the only warning that he received about the dagger flying at his face. He turned his head just in time.

Chakra stood before him. She was wearing a black tunic that covered her ample chest. Her arms were bare, except for the twisting intricate tattoos that decorated her arms. Long legs ended in black leather books that were as silent as kitten paws. Her long blonde hair was bound behind her in black scarf.

She lunged at him. He grabbed her wrists and twisted. She dropped the dagger but another one appeared in her other hand. Chakra tried to stab his leg but Nash wasn’t falling for that. He grabbed that wrist as well and disarmed her.

Nash pulled Chakra to him. “I have you, thief,” he growled.

“I will never tell you where the Ruby is,” Chakra said. She was trembling with excitement in his hands.

“I guess I will have to search you,” Nash said.

He started with her hair. He ripped the scarf from her hair and tossed it to the side. Poison pins and lockpicks glittered in the scarf. Her blonde hair fell around her like gold straw. His fingers went through her hair, searching for ay gems or further tricks.

Next he tore her tunic from body. The flimsy cloth was perfect for blending into the dark but it was little defense against Nash’s hand. Firm breasts jiggled as he tore the tunic from her body. A crouching lioness tattoo lurked over her right breast and a screeching hawk tattoo guarded her left breast. A winding snake tattoo wrapped around her belly down to her furry blonde sex.

Chakra kneed him in the groin. Nash grunted with pain and then picked her body up and threw it against the abandoned store counter. Her body folded against the counter, her legs kicking helplessly off the side. Chakra gasped as the wind was knocked out of her.

He grabbed her by the hair and kicked her legs apart. He reached down and pulled his cock from his loincloth. The dragon tattoo on her ass clenched as he pressed his cock against her sex.

“Sweet All-Mother!” chakra cried out as he filled her sex with his cock. “You are bigger than I remember! How long has it been?”

He pulled her hair harder to make her back arch. “Last spring, you had stolen the Pearl Crown.”

“That is right,” Chakra said. “You captured me in the stables. Oh fuck!”

Nash grunted in agreement. He was smashing his cock into her sex with the fury he usually reserved for combat. Hard, savage fierce thrusts that would make normal women cry with grief only made Chakra cry with joy. It was one of the reasons he kept stopping her thefts.

He knew it was also the only reason she let him catch her.

Nash pulled out of her. “You didn’t hide the ruby there, this time,” he said.

Chakra laughed. “Are you sure you do not want to check there again?”

Nash was about to answer when she kicked him in the chest. He stumbled back as she leapt to her feet and then onto him. His hands grabbed her wrists just as she was about to plunge her fingernails into his eyes. Her limber legs wrapped around his chest and squeezed. Nash could feel his ribs and lungs strain from the pressure.

Chakra might let him catch her, but she never made it easy.

He let go of her hand and grabbed her throat. He applied way too much pressure and she forgot about clawing his eyes. Her legs unclenched from his waist. Chakra smiled as he squeezed the air from her throat.

Nash found that the more civilized the woman was, the stranger their love-making.

He let go of her throat and Chakra fell to the ground. While she was still gasping for air, Nash grabbed her hair and pulled her head up. His cock went into her mouth, choking her in a different manner.

Chakra groaned as he fucked her mouth. He pushed her head this way and that. He was making sure to check both of her cheeks with his cock. Once she hid a magic coin underneath her tongue and he had nearly missed it.

There was no way she could hide anything in her mouth this time. Nash rammed his cock deep down her throat with a fierceness that barely allowed breathing much less clever concealment. Chakra squirmed but there was no escape until he had invaded every inch of her mouth.

Eventually he released her. Chakra fell back on the ground and wiped the spit from her lips. Her black boots scraped against the floor as she tried to move. He thought about taking her boots off, but decided against it. The boots were so skintight, nothing can be hidden there.

Which left just one last place.

Chakra laughed as she saw the look on his eye. She tried to scramble away but Nash was already on top of her. Their bodies rubbed against each other; his hard muscular body on top of her soft limber form. They grunted as they wrestled. Each of them pushing and grabbing each other’s body as they sound an advantage. Bites and scratches were exchanged as they tried to shock the other out of a good hold.

In the end, Nash was able to pin her down. He held her head down as he put his cock against her ass. Chakra screamed like a wildcat as inch after inch of his cock went into her tight bottom.

He hit bottom far too early. He pulled out and slipped a finger into her ass. A moment’s search, and out came the Ruby of the Sun. Despite the inglorious location in which it had been hidden, it still sparkled with a divine radiance.

“It is a great treasure,” Nash said. “I can see why you would want it.”

Chakra laughed with her face still pinned to the floor. “That is not what I came to steal.”

Nash put the Ruby of the Sun aside. “I know.”

He put his cock back into her ass. Chakra purred as he truly filled her this time. All of his cock disappeared into her ass as he nailed her to ground.

They fucked like the great heroes that they were. He attacked her ass with his cock. She took all of him with her acrobatic body. Their exertions were legendary as they sought to outdo each other. Their sweat mixed together on the dirty floor.

When they climaxed, even the Gods took notice.

When it was over, Nash collapsed on top of Chakra. His fingernails traced the shape of a bat tattoo on her shoulder. She bit a new scar he had on chest.

“Come with me,” Chakra whispered. “We could rob the treasures of the world. You and your muscle, and me with my guile.”

“Come with me,” Nash said. “We could defeat the monsters of the world. You and your cunning and me with my might.”

Neither answered. They kissed until the lantern oil burned out.

In the morning, Chakra was gone. So were her tunic, her daggers, her lantern and of course those amazing boots. The Ruby of the Sun she left behind.

Nash sighed. His heart had been stolen once more.

League of Extraordinary Pornographers Episode 202

"I'll seduce him," the Invisible MILF said.

"No," I said a little too quickly. "I can take him."

"Don't be a hero," she said. "You need medical attention, not another fight. Let me handle this. After this one guard, we can get back to the Pimp ship."

I didn't have a good argument to counter her. Well, I could always tell her I was in love with her, but I couldn't. Trying to escape from the Secret Censors of Atlantis is not the time to mess up the group dynamics.

"All right," I said.

"Men, you are so protective," she whispered.

She didn't know I was only protective of her.

I watched the guard. He stood at attention with his Sonic Rifle in his hands. He looked down in amazement as his pants unzipped.

We both watched as his cock emerged from his underwear. It grew harder and I can only imagine what technique the Invisible MILF was using. Did she stroke him? Was she sucking on him? Was she pressing his hard cock against unseen breasts that I have only dreamed about?

The guard groaned. I wonder if he had any idea what was happening. Surely he knew about the prisoners the Secret Censors took. Maybe he knew and just didn't care.

He climaxed. A spurt of his seed landed on the Invisible MILF's face. I guess she was jerking him off. The guard looked down to study the features his seed revealed.

I was already moving. He didn't see me at all as I rammed my elbow into his neck. he went down hard.

The Invisible MILF vanished as she wiped the semen from her face and ate it. "Nice hit," she said. "You nearly took his head off."

Personally, I don't think I hit him hard enough.

Publishing Poll

George Sportelli invited me to write some plots for a comic project he is working on. I was delighted to be asked and the short nature of the project allowed me to be brief and not ramble off on a 200 page idea. Scripting is a neat challenge as I get to present things without narrating them. I never have that luxury in writing. I also rarely am given permission by someone else to be as crazy as I want to. It has been a wonderful experience.

While discussuing self-publishing, George suggested that I start printing my catalog of stories. My ego loves the idea. Buddha knows I have enough stories, the question then becomes, which stories? Sometimes I feel like I have more styles than Madonna. I have already given these stories away for free, which ones would readers pay for?

Not that making money is really a concern. I have no delusions about my readership. Heck, I am such a cheapskate I am not sure I would pay for them. I wrote for money once and the truth of the matter is I took the money mostly for the prestige of being paid for writing. I am secure enough in myself that I don't need that kind of recognition. Cell Phone Slave will never be as famous as Anita Blake, but I am proud of what I write. My stories are good and at the end of my life, that is all I will care about.

Still, I should charge something if for no other reason than to pay for the art I want to commission for the covers. I hate attaching money values so I might just go with five dollars as a catch all price. Being a cheapskate, I will work hard to make sure five dollars buys a bunch of Shon Richards fun.

So Cell Phone Slave is a given. I mean, I have to publish that one. This Choose-Your-Own-Porn story is a given too. That leaves a couple of other longer stories that I think deserves a chance in PDF format. I'm putting up a poll to get your feedback.

Fiction Hard Lessons

“A good librarian makes use of all of her senses,” Mr. Dillon said.

Claire Currie nodded but did not verbally answer. She was blindfolded and her blouse was unbuttoned. Her skirt was on the floor along with her panties. Because it was a Wednesday, her panties today were dark red. The stockings that only came up to her thighs could do nothing to protect her bare bottom from the cold seat of the chair.

It was just another Wednesday for Claire as an assistant librarian for the Colette-Ashbee Collection. Claire worked for the world’s greatest collection of erotica. She accompanied Mr. Dillon as he gathered books from all walks of life. In between book purchasing, he trained her in the many complex skills of being an erotic librarian. They also fucked a lot.

She was being tested. Claire had a naughty thought and hoped Mr. Dillon did not see her smirk. In erotic stories, this would be the part where the author would talk about the intricate knots or invincible locks that were pinning her hands and ankles to the arms and legs of the chair. There were no physical bonds here. Mr. Dillon felt Claire’s discipline should be the only restraints she needed. She still wasn’t sure if this was a sign of arrogance concerning his dominance, or an absolute faith in her ability to submit.

A harsh pinch to her breast brought her out of her thoughts. Mr. Dillon’s fingers had an inch of her large breast and he was twisting it viciously. She knew from experience that purple bruises will decorate her dark skin in the morning.

“Pay attention Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. He released her breast. “You have a passable mastery of determining whether a book is a first edition or a later edition fraudulently altered. You have shown some progress in recognizing the major printing houses that publish erotica as well as a little improvement in recalling the history of written erotica.”

Claire almost blushed. From Mr. Dillon, this was the equivalent of gushing praise.

“But all of these things rely on sight,” Mr. Dillon said. “Now is the time to test your cognitive ability using your other senses.”

Claire nodded. “Just in case I ever have to sort through books during a blackout?”

This time he pinched her thigh. Cruel fingers bit into her skin like a vice. The twisting hurt, but that wasn’t the bad part. The bad part was that his fingers were so close to her sex. It was painful but it was also so damn teasing.

“Your attempts at humor are as weak as your ability to analyze Miller,” Mr. Dillon said. “Please refrain from further attempt today. Are you ready to be tested?”

“Yes, Mr. Dillon,” Claire said.

The fingers released her thigh. “Excellent,” he said. “Let us begin.”

Claire braced herself. The sensation of being pinched lingered on her thigh. She was nervous but she refused to move her hands or feet. A good librarian behaves,

A smell assaulted her nose. It was musty, old and a little damp.

“Does this book have mold, or not?” Mr. Dillon asked.

The smell moved away. “Let me smell it again, please,” she requested.

“No,” Mr. Dillon said.

Claire concentrated. “I believe it was moldy,” she said.

“Believe, or know, Ms. Currie?” Mr. Dillon said.

“I know,” Claire said.

“Hmm,” Mr. Dillon said.

Claire felt something mark her left breast. It was one stroke and it felt like a marker. She knew better than to ask what it was.

He asked her nine more times to identify mold by smell alone. When she gave her answer, he would mark either her right breast or her left one. After ten books, she had six on her left and four on her right.

“Terrible,” Mr. Dillon said. “You only got six of them right.”

Claire sighed with relief. At least she had more right than wrong.

“Open your thighs, Ms. Currie” Mr. Dillon commanded.

Claire spread her legs as wide as possible. She knew what he wanted to get to. Her pelvis shifted to give him as much access as possible to her cunt.

Hands gripped her thighs and Claire gasped as she felt Mr. Dillon’s mouth. His lips pushed through her thick pubic hair and licked at her sex. She shivered as he found her clitoris and she moaned as his tongue lapped away at her.

Claire lost herself. She ground against her boss’s face. Her hands stayed on the arms of the chair, and her feet stayed planted on the floor, but the rest of her body was in motion. Mr. Dillon was eating her and Claire was going to enjoy that rare privilege as much as possible.

A bell chimed. Mr. Dillon stopped suddenly. Claire whimpered as she felt him move away. She could hear him wiping his face of her desire. Her own seat was soaked.

“You got four wrong,” Mr. Dillon said.

The first slap landed on her right breast. She cried out at the sudden pain but the second slap was to her face. With her cheek still tingling, the third slap struck her open thigh, followed by a slap to her left breast.

Claire squirmed in her chair. The slaps struck her randomly bt she knew he had a system. A slapped breast was to distract her from a nasty slap to her thigh. A slap to face was to knock the scream out of her mouth that was rising from the slap to her nipple. Every instinct told her to cover herself but Claire did nothing. She gripped the arms of the chair as her punishment continued.

Mr. Dillon slapped her as hard as he had previously eaten her. It was all the same to him. Punishments and rewards were equally important. He didn’t flinch from inflicting either. It made for an amazing lover but also a relentless punisher.

The bell chimed. It took Claire a moment to realize the slaps had stopped. Her breasts stung. Her thighs ached. Her face burned. Worse of all, her sex was awfully aroused. She wanted to be filled. She wanted to be taken.

“Oh my,” she said. “Is the test over?” she asked.

Mr. Dillon snorted. “That was just the first of four.”

She heard a book being opened. It was a quick sound, as if Mr. Dillon had held one cover and let the book fall open.

“From the sound alone, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “Tell me if the spine on this book is broken.”

Claire swallowed. What does a broken spine sound like? She didn’t care to be honest. She wanted to be pulled out of the chair and fucked. She wanted the sting of her tits to go away. She wanted sex and all Mr. Dillon cared about were impossible skills she may never learn.

“It was broken,” Claire answered. Hell if she knew, but she had to answer.

Mr. Dillon made a mark on her right thigh. Did that mean she was wrong? Claire wasn’t sure. It would be nine more attempts before she found out.

Understanding blossomed within Claire. She knew one thing. By the time today’s ordeal was over, she was going to know what a damn broken spine did sound like. The slaps and licks will see to it.

It was an informative day.

Fiction Blogging Tips

I have been cranking away at my fiction blog project this weekend. I took a week off to write some short stories and when I was supposed to come back to the fiction blog, my sinuses made a desperate attempt to kill me. When I tried to get back into my fiction blog writing, I had to retrain myself on some things I had learned, but not really noticed.

First of all, a recap. My fiction blog project is an attempt to write a blog from the point of view of a fictional character in a horror situation. Things are bad for the character and they only get worse. Sometimes they get better but not by much. The goal is to write it all ahead of time so when it comes time to post it, I just throw it up there. I looked at as a serialized novella.

I did a broad outline for the story but found out very quickly that it is hard to plot 80+ days. Some subjects are hard to explain in one post, and if you take three days to describe what happened on Saturday, then all of a sudden you have to catch up what happened Monday, Tuesday and Wednseday. If you say nothing happened, then the reader doesn't feel like every day is a day to day struggle. This results in me covering things quickly and moving on.

Which brings me to my major rule. I don't know about other bloggers, but I find that the shorter the post, the more likely people are to finish reading it. If I write a story past two pages, I get a lot of readers who wait till the weekend to read it. Since I plan to post every freaking day, that means I have to keep it short. I limit each post to one page unless I absolutely can't cut it shorter.

I also rediscovered the oldest trick in writing. I think it was Raymond chandler who said when he got stumped, he would have someone barge in with a gun. Bam, instant tense scene. Fiction blogging is much the same. It is very easy to fall into the trap of "I did this, I did that." Even surviving an apocalypse can turn as boring as reading a coed's diary of her classes. I make a list of surprises that I pull from so that my main character stays constantly challenged, which hopefully keeps the reader challenged.

My biggest advice is to write the damn thing ahead of time. I was on a tear for about a month until veterinary and sinus issues kicked my ass. If I was posting this fiction blog as I wrote it, I would be hitting a one week blackout that would kill my readership. I know when you make a project you want to share it as soon as possible, but to pull off the illusion of a fiction blog, you got to have to done before the first post. Real life interrupts blogging, but fictional characters don't have real life issues.

Fiction: Oath of Debt

Queen Erishella was greatly annoyed. The Gem Moon of Emeraldis was mostly subdued except for one fortress that was putting up a heroic fight. Fortress Dek was sitting on top of a mine rich in precious radioactive ores, so bombing it from orbit was out of the question. The mine was too valuable, so the fortress had to be taken by force. For two weeks it had endured countless onslaughts. It was a miracle it had survived this long. It was the sort of military wonder that future officers will study and try to replicate. Worse, it was the kind of amazing feat that resistance movements used to inspire their oppressed members.

If there was one thing Queen Erishella despised, it was giving her enemies hope.

The Queen looked down. Past her stunning cleavage that was being held up by a corset made from the bones of her enemies, past the jeweled thong that barely covered her bushy sex, and past the bone white thigh high boots she was wearing, General Qwanto was on his knees with his head down in shame. The General had sworn he would have Fortress Dek destroyed by sunrise yet here it stands.

The best leaders of Erishella’s army stood behind the kneeling general. They were all smiling; looking forward to seeing what kind of doom the Queen would visit on General Qwanto. Dreams of command danced in their mocking eyes. With the General’s death, there will be promotions for people taking his place.

“Fortress Dek is still there,” Queen Erishella said. Her tone was heavy with frost.

“They are much better armed than we thought,” General Qwanto said. “Intelligence Services must have been wrong.”

Queen Erishella frowned. Excuses were as common as Lieutenant handjobs in this army. She wondered how her father ever allowed this to happen to his forces.

“You said it would be down by sunrise,” Queen Erishella said.

General Qwanto had the audacity to smile. “I apologize, my Queen. I was mistaken but will endeavor to correct this as soon as possible.”

“My foot,” Queen Erishella said. “Take it in your mouth.”

General Qwanto’s smile faded. While the other officers snickered, the mighty General opened his mouth and knelt down to the ground. Erishella did not bother to lift her foot. She watched as he took the tip of her boot into his mouth.

“When your tongue reaches my heel, you may take my foot out again,” Queen Erishella said. “But not before.”

General Qwanto whimpered. He managed to get another inch of her boot in his mouth.

The queen turned her attention back to her officers. Her father did not usually allow fools but he seemed to make an exception for these bastards. King Zarn, may the gods damn his soul forever, had raised his daughter to be a cruel efficient bitch, but he preferred a bit of a cocky swagger out of his sons. This carried over to his officers. Each of them was an arrogant dauntless asshole who would rush into any sort of danger in order to win personal glory. It made for a fearless army but also an army that never seems to consider failure.

Queen Erishella was going to fix that.

“Whom among you can rid me of Fortress Den?” she asked.

Captain Igon stepped forward. He had a uniform filled with various medals. He also had a scar that ran down the length of his face that gave him a rugged look. The smile he bore was still too entirely too cocky.

“I shall, my Queen,” Captain Igon said as he bowed.

Queen Erishella said nothing. At her foot, General Qwanto grunted as he widened his mouth to get more of her boot in. The queen let the sound of the General’s grunts fill her throne room.

“Shall you now?” Queen Erishella said. Just once she wanted one of her officers to think about their task instead of leaping into it. “Will you succeed when others have failed?”

Captain Igon wasn’t in a thinking mood. “I swear by the Skull Throne you sit upon that I shall have Fortress Dek cleaned of the enemy and flying your flag within one day cycle.”

Queen Erishella shook her head. Captain Igon’s smile faded at her refusal.

“No, do not swear by the Skull Throne,” Queen Erishella said. “Do not swear by your honor, or by your strength or by your dead mother’s grave.”

Captain Igon bit his lip. “What shall I swear by, my Queen?”

Queen Erishella rose from her throne. General Qwanto choked as he struggled to keep her boot in his mouth. She stepped forward and the General scuttled backward.

The officers watched as Queen Erishella pressed a button on her bone corset. The smart laces unwound and her full breasts popped free. The queen took Captain Igon’s hand and placed it right on her left breast.

“My Queen?” Captain Igon said after he swallowed.

“Swear by this,” Queen Erishella commanded. “Swear by the breast of your queen what you promise. Swear knowing that I have granted you this honor and now you owe me a debt of your service. Swear knowing that if you are unworthy of the honor I have granted you that I will collect it back by chopping off your hand and any other part I chose.”

Queen Erishella pressed his fingers deeper into her breast. She squeezed him to her, letting him know just how ripe and full she was. Her nipple hardened against his palm and she knew by sight that his cock was hardening as well.

“I swear,” Captain Igon said, “by the breast of my Queen that I shall defeat her enemies at Fortress Dek and bring it under her rule by, ummm.”

Queen Erishella resisted the urge to smile as he thought about it.

“One week, if I am allowed to use neural toxins?” Captain Igon said.

Queen Erishella nodded. “You may. Let your Oath of Debt be entered into the record. You are dismissed, Captain.”

Captain Igon released her breast after a moment’s hesitation. He saluted and then left in a thoughtful manner. The swagger was gone, but the seriousness of the matter weighed on him.

Queen Erishella touched the button on her corset. The smart laces went to work and rewrapped the bones to her breasts. Properly corseted again, Queen Erishella returned to her throne and sat back down. General Qwanto crawled along the ground with her.

She spared him a glance. He had three inches of her boot in his mouth. It was still a very long way to her heel. He couldn’t speak but the look in his eyes pleaded for mercy.

“Keep at it,” Queen Erishella said.

She was going to break her officers in if it killed them.

Erotica Threat Level: Simmering Red

Time flies when you have a hundred things to write.

Fiction Blog Project is coming along nicely. I am at the 40% point and I plan to finish it by the end of the month. I am looking to launch it in January so I feel like time is slipping away from me. I was originally worried that I would not have enough material for a character to blog about every day but the opposite is rue. Surviving day to day is a lot of work and you can't possibly write about it all or else you wouldn't have time to survive.

The interesting thing about writing about a character who is by himself is that it makes me, the writer, feel very lonely. I went into a depression and had to take a week off to get myself out of it. I hope when people read it daily, it will entertain them in a grim manner and not send them spirally into a funk.

This past week an artist approached me with writing scripts for his comic character. The setting and character are right up my alley and very similar to what I have been doing with Nash Nighthammer and Texanah. The best part in my mind is he wanted very little dialogue. As a writer, I never have that option. Even if my characters never speak, I still have to describe what is happening and that gives some kind of a tone or else it is as dull as reading a newspaper article. The chance to write something that is all action is a rare opportunity. It will not be erotica, but sexy ladies will abound.

Also this month I plan to finish the Cursed Harem Choose-Your-Own-Porn story. I've been gathering the notes from my play-testers and am prepared to do some major rewriting. Cripes, I had no idea I had so many pathing issues. I plan to have it done and ready for viewers by Christmas.

I also started a sequel to 'Wolf Inside' this week and have no idea when it will be finished. Writing the Fiction Blog Project has taught me that I really love writing sex and I missed it alot. I started writing the 'Wolf' sequel out of fictional erotica desperation.

This Wednesday there will be a new Erishella story.