Erotiterrorist

Adventures of the Giant Nad

2012-01-27T09:35:00.002-05:00

All this week I have had an annoying experience with my balls always getting in my way. I would lay on my side and my legs would crush my balls. I would sit down and my balls would get trapped in my underwear. I felt my balls and they seemed okay if a bit lower than usual. I figured that I was just getting old.

Then on Thursday night I got really annoyed with my balls getting in the way and I took a really good look. I felt around and realized that what I thought was my balls packed tightly together was actually one ball the size of a tennis ball. The other poor nad was attached to it on the side like a moon.

Holy shit.

I went to my doctor the next morning. I love my doctor. She is smart and warm but she also looks like she is about fourteen and even though I know she is married and has a child, she will always be the female Doogie Howser to me.

Dr. Howersette went right into action. We went through a checklist and she was surprised that I wasn't feeling pain. She wanted to examine my balls but first she needed to bring in a chaperone. The chaperone was a nurse who never left the door and was mortified to be there. She was not half as mortified as I was when I had to drop trousers and let Dr. Howserette feel my balls.

Cough cough. No hernia.

Feel, fondle, play a little. No pain.

Dr. Howserette thought it might be fluid built up in a cyst. She gave me a referral to get an ultrasound.

I go to the ultrasound office and wait an hour and a half. I read political magazines that were 8 months old talking about what an awesome candidate Herman Cain was. Thank Vincent Price there was a National Geographic there so I could spend time reading about the crazy men who patrol Greenland with dog sled teams. I kept wondering how tiny their balls were in 60 below weather.

Anyhoo, I finally get my ultrasound. The doctor is cute short Hispanic woman who informs me that I need to change into a backless gown. She leaves the room for me to change. She comes back and tells me to get on the bed and she starts handing me towels. One towel is to go under my nads to lift them up and keep them up. One towel is to go over my penis and the third towel is for quote, "To clean yourself afterwards."

I am over being shy at this point. I have bene to so many bdsm parties with casual nudity that I am just not fazed. Any shame I may have was obliterated when Dr. Howsette fondled my balls. I am in "Let's get shit done" mode and the thought of wasting time for modesty was just annoying. I wanted her to just get in there and do what needs to be done.

But I am at heart an easy going person even with a tennis ball for a nad. I put the towel under my nads. I put the other towel on my cock. Now, when I am flaccid, my cock is about .1 microns in length. I have this giant towel and I'm trying to cover something so small while at the same time not get int he way of the nads that it is attached to.

I was concerned that if I got a single cock throb, that my limp penis would twitch and escape my towel confines and scar for life the Hispanic woman who needs so many towels.

Inner Dialogue

"Go to your Happy Place, Shon. Ignore everything and go to your Happy Place!"

"Wait, my Happy Place is tits!"

"Shit, go your other Happy Place!"

"My Other Happy Place is spanking women's asses!"

"Go to the non-sex Happy Place!"

"THERE IS NO NON-SEX HAPPY PLACE!"

"Wait, we've been playing Star Trek Online. Go there! Science has proven there is no sex for nerds who obsess about Star Trek!"

"You're right! And while we are talking about Star Trek Online, how come we are looting the Klingons we defeat? Kirk might do that, but Picard really check the pockets of people he just phasered . . ."

The ultrasound lady meanwhile is smearing warm gel on my balls and rubbing a sensor over them. This goes on for about twenty minutes. Thanks to the miracle of Star Trek, I managed to not get an erection.

I clean off the gel and go home. I get a call from Dr. Howserette.

"Shon, the mass appears to not be a liquid but is most likely a solid."

"A solid what?" I said.

"It could be a tumor. We'll have to go to a urologist to be sure."

"Well, fuck."

So that is where we are now. I have an appointment for Monday which means me and my giant ball will have the weekend together.

I am staying positive mostly because my current step-father bled from the penis for a year before he went to see a doctor. They discovered it was testicular cancer and fixed it pretty easily. So in my mind even if I have a giant cancer nad, I am acting a hell of a lot sooner than my idiot step-father did.

I do however plan to gorge on fired chicken and play a lot more Star Trek Online in an effort to comfort eat and distract the hell out of myself.

Fiction: Vanished

2012-01-25T08:29:00.000-05:00

Explorer’s Log: I am about to land on the 6th planet orbiting the star designed, Queen’s Lack of Mercy, by Royal Astronomers. I was picking up low technology radio signals up to 11 hours ago but the broadcasts abruptly ceased. The civilization appears to be post industrial but doesn’t appear to have space technology. They might have detected my ship and are trying to mask themselves. I will land and investigate their worthiness to be conquered for the Queen. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: From what I saw of the broadcasts, these aliens are mammalian and sort of cute except for the fact that they are only four feet tall. Since they aren’t savage primitives, I am hoping to get some friendly contacts and maybe a few inter species fucking sessions as well. These aliens are so short, I am sure they will look at me like some sort of giant brown sex goddess. End Explorer’s Personal Log.

Deep Space Explorer Vaquel Di lounged in the plaza water fountain. Behind her was a statue of an alien that was busy looking defiant at something just over his shoulder. Vaquel’s glassteel helmet and sparkling green spacesuit sat on the ground beside the fountain. She submerged her naked brown body into the water until the tips of her pink hair touched the water. The heated water felt wonderful on her body.

Around the plaza fountain were hundreds of vehicles that were chained together in a serious of collisions. Traffic signals blinked and shuttered in prerecorded signals. Billboards played above her and depicted a series of images. Vaquel didn’t understand what the billboards were saying but there sure were a lot of advertisements for bath soaps.

Of aliens there were none. The plaza was deserted. The vehicles were empty. The buildings were abandoned. Vaquel soaked in the plaza fountain and wondered where the fuck everyone was.

According to her ship’s scanners, there was not a single trace of alien life more sophisticated than simple birds or bugs. There were signs of civilization on every continent but of the actual aliens themselves, there was nothing. She even launched a mining probe that dug deep into the planet’s crust but it found no evidence of bunkers. The aliens weren’t hiding, they were just gone.

Vaquel looked at the collection of soap bottles that she had gathered. Every street had a store that sold soaps and lotion. After months of taking showers in her cramped hygienic pod, Vaquel was dying for a real bath. She had looted the stores like a true explorer and exploiter of resources.

She took a bottle of red liquid soap and squirted it into her hands. Red bubbles formed immediately. She lathered the bubbles onto her brown breasts and moaned. The bubbles had some sort of fizzing quality that was quite arousing. The popping bubbles felt like hundreds of tiny pinches over her sensitive flesh. Better yet, it was obliterating months of space grime.

Vaquel was starting to like these aliens, wherever the fuck they were.

The streets were ominously quiet. Vaquel dropped a soap bar into the water and the splash echoed for at least a minute around the deserted city. The explorer tried singing but after a few lines of “Never Turn Your Ass to an Army Man” she couldn’t sing anymore. The resulting echoes just made her more aware of how alone she was.

Fuck, at least she was getting a good bath out of it. The top of the fountain water was covered in five different colors of soap bubbles. Jets in the fountain constantly produced currents of warm water to surround Vaquel. She spread her legs wide and positioned herself over a jet. The current of water did wonderful things against her sex.

“This happens on ships sometimes,” she said out loud. Vaquel needed to talk to keep the silence away. She just made sure to whisper so that the streets wouldn’t echo.

“Explorers find empty star ships all the time,” she said. “The engines were working fine and they always have plenty of supplies but no one is inside the ship. It always looks like they had abandoned ship except the life pods are still there. No one knows why it happens though everyone has a theory. It is not that big of a leap to guess that it could happen to a whole planet, is it?”

The soap bubbles had no answers. The jet however had a very convincing argument that Vaquel should move a little closer. She got on her knees in the fountain and lowered her sex. Her breasts were covered in the popping bubbles and her nipples were harder than the mystery surrounding this planet.

Vaquel stroked herself as the jet streamed water against her sex. Looking around her, it was easy to imagine that people still lived her. The buildings loomed around her and who knows if maybe a survivor was peeking through the windows right now?

The thought of being watched sent new shivers down her body. It felt good to be doing a decadent act in the middle of a large city. It felt right to desecrate this public fountain with a little private pleasure. For all she knew, the entire alien civilization decided to turn invisible when they saw her ship and were watching her right now.

Vaquel moaned. The scientist in her thought that the invisibility theory was unlikely but the slut in her was a full supporter. She moved a little more than she had to. She grabbed her tits and squeezed through the fizzing bubbles. When she moaned, she made sure to open her mouth so the invisible aliens could imagine slipping a cock down her throat.

She was close. She stroked faster. The more she moved, the more bubbles appeared around her. The sun sparkled on her wet brown body and damp pink hair.

Deep in her mind though, another though occurred to her as she stroked. The aliens had disappeared less than twelve hours ago. What if whatever took them came back? Was it really that smart to linger on an empty planet? Could she be the next to go?

“Then I better stroke faster,” Vaquel said to no one.

Vaquel stroked for the invisible aliens. She stroked to avoid being the next to disappear. She stroked for the empty planet that might not ever see another orgasm again. She stroked because it was her first real bath in months. She stroked because she was fucking horny and there was no one here to fuck.

She climaxed with the force of a thousand crashing cars.

“Glory to the Queen!” she cried. As her scream echoed down the streets, Vaquel wouldn’t be surprised if Queen Erishella back home could actually hear her.

Vaquel stopped stroking. Her arousal temporarily sated, she thought with a clearer mind. She stood up and watched the bubbles and water slide off her brown body.

“This place is fucking creepy,” she said. “And I am getting the fuck out of here.”

Vaquel took a step towards the edge of the fountain and paused. She turned around and grabbed a handful of bath soaps. A mysterious planet devoid of life was scary but the thought of having to go back to using the ship’s military grade soap was scarier.

Erotica Threat Level: Sweet Cash Green

2012-01-23T08:12:00.003-05:00

Last year I offered my books on Lulu and I make a small modest amount thanks to my wonderful fans. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for those sales. The thing is, there is a giant porn market over at Amazon where they are printing money for porn and a lot oft he porn there, to be absolutely polite, abominable and shitty.

Because I love the world too much to let bad porn exist without an alternative, I have taken up publishing ebooks for the Amazon Kindle. I also want a share of that money because I have bills to pay and the chance to pay those bills by doing something I totally love is pretty awesome.

An important bit about the Amazon Kindle is that you DON'T NEED A KINDLE TO READ THE EBOOKS. Kindle for PC is a program that lets you read anything on your home computer or laptop. I use it and it is completely free.

The Amazon Kindle is a jealous god and in order to get some of the cooler selling options, they ask that I not sell my books as ebooks elsewhere. As a trial run, I took Cell Phone Slave down from Lulu and put it up on Amazon. Without any advertising, I already sold more Cell Phone Slave there then I have the past three months of Lulu. The Amazon Kindle is where the customers are.

Amazon Kindle also lets me do interesting things like have sales where I give ebooks away for free. The funny thing about this is the more people who grab the ebook while it is free, the higher up in the rankings the ebook goes and when the sale is over, more people are likely to buy it because it has a high ranking.

Which means that when I make a new ebook and make it free, I can tell you about it on my blog. You can go snatch it for free because you are my lolyal and loving fans and even if you never read it, you will help my book go up in the rankings. Everyone wins.

What is appealing to me is that I have ten years of stories that I have written. That is a shitload of material that I beleive is of a much higher quality than what is available. A lot of these stories are stuff you may not have read. Some of it will be stories that have appeared on the blog but are collected together. For example, this Friday I plan to put together the 'Wolf Inside' stories.

I already put up for sale, 'On Your Knees' which is the lovely story of four American college kids who end up on a BDSM gameshow in Mexico and let's just say that a lot of spanking, humiliation and fucking ensues. This story was so popular that it was stolen and put on a Hebrew language porn site, which amuses me to no end. Now you can buy the slightly edited version where I fix a ten year old plot hole that has always bothered me. It is a fairly lengthy story, about the size of one of my three part Librarian stories. Plus college kids getting spanked and teased for cash prizes.

Because I am a glutton for punishment, I still plan to produce a new story every week. I promise to let you know when my ebooks are for free so you can snatch them first since you are my kindly fanbase.

I am opening the floor for questions, concerns and accusations that I have sold out in the interest of eating food.

Dirty Books: Anything for an A

2012-01-20T08:04:00.006-05:00

Tasty Miller's Anything for an A is a short little ebook from Sock Drawer Press. I actually have a book that will be published by Sock Drawer Press but I swear on the tits of Scarlett Johansson that I will be completely impartial in reviewing this book.

As you can imagine, this ebook is about an 18 year old female high school student who really needs to get an A from her male English teacher. Rather than do some hard work and studying, she resorts to the time honored porn tradition of seduction and trying to fuck his brains out. Being a teenager, she uses the kind of convoluted over complicated plan that teenagers love to try. Sexiness ensues.

The cliche of a student seducing their teacher is as old as time but in this book the cliche is only the skeleton of the story. The body on top of the cliche-skeleton is made of interesting characters, amusing jokes, pretty hot teasing and really hot sex. Yes, you know how it will end but how we get there is never boring and let me tell you, in porn not being bored is always a small miracle. It is a good porn story that you will remember long after you have forgotten others in this genre.

This book is a classic example of how you don't need an original idea for a great book, you just need to tell an old story in a great manner.

As an author I was really impressed with the length of the story. A lot of ebooks are barely longer than a blog post. Others are way too long and the story goes to places it never needs to go. This one clocks in at a pleasant afternoon reading. It is like the Red Shoe Diaries length of porn. It is just long enough to soak in the characters without over staying it's welcome.

I give it four out of five Pam Griers.

Fiction: Zero Gravity

2012-01-18T07:58:00.000-05:00

Explorer’s Log: I am three days away from the 6th planet orbiting the star designed, Queen’s Lack of Mercy, by Royal Astronomers. Due to the heavy mass of several gas giants in this system, I am unable to travel there using the faster than light drive and must reach my destination by old fashioned solar thrust engines. This will give me time do regular maintenance and run some diagnostics. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: Son of a bitch, space is fucking big. Even in the same system the distances between planets are well, astronomical. I am getting so horny, I had to put a time lock on the dead alien’s body so I wouldn’t be tempted to do anything biologically unwise.

Deep Space Explorer Vaquel Di floated naked aboard the probe ship. Her gorgeous brown body spun slowly as she stroked furiously between her legs. Heavy brown breasts floated in different directions. Her short pink hair hovered around her head in a pink halo. She had her eyes tightly shut as she came close to orgasm.

A short beep was her only warning. The gravity returned a split second later. Vaquel opened her eyes and let out a short squeal. She fell to the ground and just managed to get her hands out of her cunt. She landed on the floor of the ship on all fours.

“Didn’t hit my head this time,” Vaquel said. She was alone on the ship and found that talking out loud helped the loneliness. Well, a little.

Her fingers were sticky from being inside her. Vaquel’s cunt ached to be touched and her pubic bush was soaked. Fresh desire dripped onto the floor.

She wanted to come. Her cunt ached to be touched. She was close, she knew it.

Vaquel stayed where she was. The rules of the game were quite clear. She couldn’t only masturbate when the gravity was turned off. She had to stop when the gravity returned. The computer was set to alternate the gravity at random time intervals, not exceeding three minutes.

The rules were brutal. Vaquel was so damn close to climax. She had work to do and she just wanted to come. She was getting frustrated, angry and also very fucking horny.

This might be the best masturbation game that Vaquel had invented yet.

Beep!

Vaquel felt her knees lift away from the floor. The gravity was gone and she went back to work. Dark fingers plunged into her pink bush of pubic hair and fucked her cunt. She moaned as her crotch levitated towards the ceiling.

She finger fucked the hell out of herself. Gravity could return at any moment. She spared one hand to grab a breast and squeeze it like it wasn’t hers. Blood rushed to her head as she floated upside down and she didn’t fucking care. Vaquel had to come.

The Deep Space Explorer Probe ship hurtled through space. Ingenious technologies kept it flying and automatically navigating past meteors, debris, gravitational tugs of planets and the occasionally freaky space anomaly. All of this triumph in exploration was lost on Vaquel who was nothing more than a woman desperately needing a climax.

Vaquel moaned. She was going to come. The excitement of finally achieving what her body craved was almost too much. She started to worry that the gravity would return and since she was upside down at the moment that would be really bad.

Vaquel pushed the negative thoughts out of her mind. She had been trained to pilot a ship through a plasma storm without panicking. Her calm in combat was the envy of several instructors. No one was faster when it came to repairing a solar sail during a meteor shower. Vaquel turned her laser focus towards her own climax.

She rubbed her clitoris with a fury. She pulled on her floating breast with unforgiving passion. She bit down on her lip and imagined that the pain came from a lover. Her body twisted and contorted in mid air. Free of the constraints of gravity, Vaquel’s body moved in strange ways as she desperately tried to come.

“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel shouted. She climaxed. Pleasure rippled through her body at the speed of light. Her brown body convulsed in the air as she rode the bliss.

Beep!

Vaquel landed on her back. The wind was knocked out of her and she gasped for air. She lay on the floor and held on to the glow of her orgasm.

The sweaty explorer waited for the gravity to turn off again. She wasn’t close to being finished today.

Fiction: Bound to Die

2012-01-11T09:12:00.000-05:00

“Time to wake up, Ms. Valentine.”

Holly stirred from her sleep and tried to sit up. The ropes holding her hands stopped her. Since she was an investigative reporter, this detail didn’t surprise her much. The number of times that she awoke to find herself tied up was starting to exceed the number of times she woke up without being restrained. It was an occupational hazard.

The reporter did a quick inventory before responding to the voice. Yep, she was completely naked. Yes, her wrists and ankles were tied to the four corners of her hotel bed. Oh dear, her breasts felt tender as if someone had felt her up while stripping her. Bad guys usually don’t molest her tits unless they plan for her to be dead later so she won’t press charges. This might be a serious attempt on her life as opposed to the half-ass attempts that she dealt with so frequently.

“I doubt that you know who I am,” the man standing beside her said. He was a young man, barely thirty yet he had all the arrogance and self importance of an asshole twice his age.

“You’re Carl Squeezestone, chief financial officer for the Conquest Banking,” Holly said. “You are currently renegotiating which bank gets to secretly run the SEC and determine who gets to defraud the stock market for the next two years.”

Mr. Squeezestone frowned. “It appears that you have achieved more unexpected progression in your investigation than we forecasted. Your untimely expose into our affairs might result in unfortunate down trending in our financial forecast.”

After three years of covering banker scandals, Holly understood banker talk better than most people. She just refused to speak it herself.

“Yeah, you guys will be totally fucked,” Holly said.

“On the contrary, you are about to be downsized,” Mr. Squeezestone said. “Notice the pistols that have been mounted on your hotel bed frame. Each rope connects a limb to trigger. As soon as you move any subsidiary appendage in any direction, you will trigger a penalty as the pistol fires. The pistols are aimed at your torso, which will result in a slow and painful downgrading of your circulatory capitol flow.”

“Ouch, just leaving me to bleed to death,” Holly said. “Oh well, guess I am not moving for several hours until the maids come in to change the sheets.”

Mr. Squeezestone smiled like a man with a golden parachute. “That is why I am strapping this device on. Do you recognize it? It is the Von Madd Pussy-Licker 11. It adheres to your cunt and leverages the state of the art animatronics tongue to stimulate your arousal growth in a perpetual upwards trend. It will be impossible for you to not move and therefore, impossible to not be perforated with unexpected lead infusions.”

“Well, shit,” Holly said.

Mr. Squeezestone leaned over and held the plate sized device over her neatly trimmed pussy. Small robot tentacles reached out to her waist and thighs. The Pussy-Licker 11 jumped out of her hand and sealed itself over her cunt. The metal tentacles tightened around her for a snug fit. A bright pink power button was on the outside of the Pussy-Licker 11 but with Holly’s hands tied; there was no way that she was reaching it.

“Goodbye, Ms. Valentine,” Mr. Squeezestone said. “I look forward to reading about your perverse bondage masturbation death in the papers tomorrow. In fact, I think I will write the article myself.”

He pressed the power button for the Pussy-Licker 11. Holly was going to respond with a clever retort about his sexual practices with small animals but she felt the amazing animated tongue of the device and all witty repartee died in her throat as she moaned.

Mr. Squeezestone smiled and stuffed her panties into her mouth. Holly watched as he walked out of her room. He didn’t even bother to hang the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign. Well of course not, Holly realized. He wanted her bondage shot body to be found in the morning.

“Well fuck,” Holly tried to say but the panties in her mouth turned it into a “Whh ffk”. She was in trouble this time. It was a clever arrangement though to be honest, shooting her in her sleep would have been smarter. She understood why she was in an elaborate trap. Mr. Squeezestone was a banker and a wall street trader, he probably couldn’t even think in simple A to B plans. That was her one advantage.

The Pussy-Licker 11 lived up to its name and did something wonderful to Holly’s sex. She trembled and had an incredible urge to reach down and pull it tighter against her.

She stopped herself after her hands moved an inch. Holly waited for the shots but the pistols didn’t fire.

Now she knew that she had at least an inch of give. Holly didn’t know what good it would do her, but it was something.

She tried to look at her body to see if there was anything she could use. Her large breasts obstructed most of her view. Holly said a silent prayer of thanks that Mr. Squeezestone didn’t get really creative and apply nipple clamps of some sort.

Past her freckled breasts, she could barely see the Pussy-Licker 11 but she sure as hell could feel it. Fuck, now it was doing some sort of circular motion. It was amazing what they could do with sex toys these days. One day she was sure it would kill her.

Her long bare legs were stretched out and secured with thick rope. She had a really good view of the pistols at the foot of the bed. She wasn’t an expert on guns but she could tell that these were the kinds of guns that punched messy holes in people rather than neatly bypassing important arteries.

Yeah, she was fucked.

The Pussy-Licker 11 began to lap at her sex. It reminded her of an inappropriate dog or a drunken college student. It was used all of the tongue to lick from the bottom of her cunt to the top. It was wet too. The damn device must provide its own simulated saliva. It was fucking perfect.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Holly tried to think of an escape plan. It was still night, so it would be hours before a maid came. She could usually twist and pull herself out of most bondage but pulling and twisting would kill her here. Holly rapidly ran out of ideas.

Holly’s heart skipped a beat as she realized that her hips had been moving for the last two minutes. She had been humping against the Pussy-Licker 11 without even thinking about it. The redhead reporter forced her hips to stop and bit down on the panties in her mouth as the Pussy-Licker 11 kept licking.

Holly moaned. Not moving was worse. It was as if the device interpreted her lack of movement as encouragement to try harder. The mechanical tongue was picking up speed and doing gyrations that no human mouth could attempt. Erotic science was going to get her off and when it did, she was going to twist and writhe before the speeding bullets made her twist and writhe for entirely different reasons.

Wait, Holly remembered an article she wrote back for her high school paper. A cheerleader and a jock had died in a freak motel bed accident. The cheerleader had tried a running mount onto the jock and the bed had shattered. They had died from the freak shrapnel from the splintering wood. During her research, Holly had discovered that most beds in hotels were notoriously badly constructed as they were bought in bulk from men’s prisons. If they were bought from women’s prisons, the bed would be sturdier because women can build the shit out of a bed.

It gave Holly an idea. Maybe she could pull on her arms and legs at the same time and destroy the badly made bed. The pistols would be dislodged and maybe she could roll out of the way at the same time.

The only problem is that the cheerleader in Holly’s high school had destroyed the bed with a running start. Holly was flat on her back getting her pussy eaten. She was in good shape but not that good of shape. She would need some sort of advantage.

The Pussy-Licker 11 moved synthetic lips that Holly didn’t know it had. Lifelike lips nibble and kissed her cunt. The reporter trembled with willpower as she fought to keep from humping the machine.

Holly’s clenched eyes popped open. That was it. She had all the strength she needed if it was powered by an orgasm. She just had to have one of those bed shattering orgasms that broke the glasses of boyfriends.

She just had to have it without moving prematurely.

Holly waited. The Pussy-Licker 11 licked deeper into her. The redhead fought to stay as still as possible as the machine licked where only cocks had reached before. Her nipples tingled as the device took simulated breathes inside her. Her feet were still but her toes curled as the sextoy bit her gently.

The ropes trembled. Holly bit down on the panties and willed herself not to move. She felt her body tensing like a spring but she couldn’t release just yet.

The Pussy-Licker 11 found her clitoris. Just like a real man, it took awhile to find. The simulated tongue attacked her clitoris with speed and efficiency.

All of Holly’s control melted. She was going to climax. She might also die but right now she didn’t give a fuck. She wanted to come. She needed to come. Dying and living was something for later.

The Pussy-Licker 11 kept licking her clitoris as her hips rose. The metal arms hung on as Holly’s body twisted and spun on the bed. The mechanical tongue vibrated against her as her arms pulled down and her legs pulled up. The superior construction of the sextoy clung to her sex as the inferior construction of the motel bed shattered.

The pistols fired.

The pistol attached to her right arm fell and shot out the window.

The pistol attached to her left arm spun and shot the television.

The pistol attached to her right leg turned and shot the corner of the bed.

The pistol attached to her left leg didn’t fire at all because Mr. Squeezestone forgot to turn off the safety. Stock brokers could be sloppy that way.

Holly fell off the bed. Her hands were still tied but the rope was completely slack. She reached between her thighs and hesitated.

She came twice more before turning the machine off.

Handjob Supply Program

2012-01-09T08:28:00.005-05:00

In order to combat the slump in Monday morning efficiency, Von Madd Laboratories will be supplying handjobs to all of our staff. A talented specialist will come to your work station and stimulate your genitals with their hands until you achieve orgasm. To request your handjob, please use the Purple Handjob button at your work station in the following manner.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a female specialist, please press the button quickly once.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a male specialist, please press and hold the button once.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a female specialist with large breasts, please press the button twice quickly and then pause, then press the button and hold for two seconds.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a male specialist with a great ass, please press the button once, pause and then press quickly twice.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a androgynous specialist with an undetermined sex, please press the button three times followed by two short presses.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a female specialist of African American descent, please press and hold the button for two seconds, then press it quickly three times and then press and hold for one second.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a male specialist of African American descent, please press and hold the button for three seconds, then press it quickly three times and then press and hold for one second.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a female specialist of Asian descent, please press and hold the button for four seconds, then press it quickly two times and then press and hold for two seconds.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a male specialist of Asian descent, please press and hold the button for four seconds, then press it quickly two times and then press and hold for three seconds.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a female specialist who's ass you can slap then press the button quickly eight times.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a female specialist who will slap your ass and verbally humiliate you then press the button quickly seven times.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a male specialist who's nipples you can pinch and twist then press the button quickly six times followed by a pause and then two quick presses.

If you would like to receive a handjob from a male specialist who will pinch and twist your nipples then press the button quickly five times followed by a pause and then three quick presses.

We apologize in advance for the small number of options currently available but we will endeavor to expand the selection every week.

We also appreciate your patience as we try out this new system. Please understand that the specialist you request will not be able to return to their deployment office until they have completed the order requested.

Completely off topic and having nothing to do with the Handjob Supply Program, I would like to remind the staff of the Sexual Expectation and Disappointment Department that we will be reviewing a new batch of data this Friday.

Your Friend in Erotic Science,
Dr. Otto Von Madd

Dirty Books: Deep Throat

2012-01-06T09:22:00.003-05:00

Deep Throat is the book adaptation of the movie of the same name. The movie was such a phenomenon that they were trying to cash in any way they could and I guess a dirty book seemed like a great idea. It is written by D.M. Perkins and he had his work cut out for him. The movie was just an hour long and all of the dialogue could fit in a brochure. All in all, he did a pretty good job.

I first read this book when I was a teenager stealing porn from my step-father. I was happy to buy my own copy from the excellent blog, Pop Sensation. If you like vintage books of a sleazy nature, you will love that blog.

The plot to the book is that Linda Lovelace is a girl who has never experienced an orgasm. After consulting with a sex doctor, she discovers her clitoris in located in her throat. She can now orgasm while giving blowjobs and much wackiness ensues.

Well, some wackiness ensues. Linda becomes a nurse therapist and uses her oral talents to help other sexually dysfunctional people overcome their own bizarre problems. This is the highlight of the book as Linda tackles difficult and perplexing problems that can be solved with oral sex.

Unfortunately for the reader, this phase comes to an end for Linda as she becomes unsatisfied with fun challenging sexual encounters and decides what she really needs is love. She takes a short detour and makes a porn movie about her life (OMG, so that is where the movie comes from!) before finally realizing that what a woman really needs in order to be happy is to be married.

Yeah. Now that you finally found your clit, Linda, you need to get married. Maybe the sexual revolution hadn't caught up to porn yet, I don't know.

I do want to say that this was a funny book. Sex scenes were more like sketch comedy scenes with an emphasis on the weirdness and inherent problem solving of the situation. Quite a few times I laughed out loud which is always welcome when reading porn. The book also discusses popular household brands which always feels extra naughty when reading a porn book. It was certainly a different time.

I also want to add that book is much more entertaining than the movie.

I give it Three Pam Griers out of Five.

Fiction: Honor Bra

2012-01-04T09:21:00.001-05:00

Royal Guard Widdins returned to consciousness. The burning pain was gone. He could no longer feel the hundred shattered bones. He tried to open his eyes but darkness surrounded him. It was better than the terrible red light of that exploding missile.

“Widdins, can you hear me?” a voice said. It was the Queen! He tried to answer but nothing happened.

“Don’t try to speak,” Queen Erishella said. “The scanner can detect your awareness. That was a brave thing you did there. Who would have imagined that an assassin would fire a rocket at us? Well, the head of my security should have imagined it but rest assure that my torturers are explaining this detail to him right now.”

Widdins tried to speak again. He realized that he couldn’t feel his lips or tongue. He wasn’t sure that he even had a mouth.

“I am still amazed by what you did,” Queen Erishella said. “You jumped and tackled that rocket. A mere ten feet away from me, you covered the rocket with your body as it exploded. It killed four of your fellow guards but my personal field protected me. I doubt the field would have taken a direct hit. You saved your Queen’s life.”

Widdins waited for his cock to respond to this praise. He felt a tremor of panic when he realized that he couldn’t feel his cock.

“You were very lucky,” Queen Erishella said. “Most of your body disintegrated but Chief Scientist Xor recovered most of your brain. You can thank your helmet for that. Always wear your helmet, Widdins. You are technically dead and you have certainly earned your reward in the Underworld where I am sure Father Qang will give you bed slaves beyond imagining for saving the Queen, but there is another option.”

Widdins tried to ask what the other option was.

“I have one more duty for you, Widdins, if you are interested in serving your Queen. I understand if you feel that the explosion of your body has been enough. It is up to you. Do you want to die, or do you want to continue serving me?”

Widdins struggled with all that was left of his brain to tell her that he wished to serve.

“Excellent,” Queen Erishella said. “I shall go now while Xor prepares you.

Widdins felt his conscious mind go to sleep.

When next he awoke, he was delighted to feel. He felt two of the most perfect breasts in the entire galaxy. He could feel their weight. He experienced their luxurious softness. The hard points of her nipples pressed against him and excited him beyond imagining.

He realized that they were the Queen’s breasts. Like any loyal subject of the Queen, he owned all of the licensed royal pornography as well as many of the sex aids. He would be able to recognize the shape and contours of her breasts from a thousands other chests.

He realized that he wasn’t touching the Queen’s breasts with his hands; he was feeling her with his entire body. He was pressed against her; the entirety of his existence focused around her breasts. He had no eyes, ears or nose but he could feel and by the Gods of Night, he could taste. Widdins understood that he was her bra and how a miracle of science was done he could never guess but he was certainly grateful.

A cold wind blew and the breasts shivered. An urge to protect his Queen rose within Widdins. Instinctively he activated thermal threads and warmed his Queen.

The Queen ran and the breasts shook. Widdins exerted his will and he tightened around the breasts to give them better support. He contained the precious mountains of flesh and provided as much comfort as he could at the same time.

The Queen stopped. Widdins felt a flushing of the skin followed by a hardening of her nipples. He realized that she was aroused. Widdins trembled with excitement as he tried to think of how he could serve. Desperate, he began squeezing and pinching at the breasts. He lacked a tongue but he could contract around her breasts and kiss her the best he could.

He felt the breasts tremble. The Queen’s body was in motion. Up and down he felt the breasts bounce. She was fucking someone or something. Widdins kept squeezing. He kept pinching. He adjusted himself to provide more support during the more enthusiastic thrusts.

She climaxed. Widdins knew because he climaxed too. He lacked a cock but he felt the eruption of pleasure ripple through his new form. He joined in his Queen’s orgasm and if he had a mouth, he would have cried out her praise.

Widdins felt the bra unclasp. As the lovely breasts peeled away from him, he felt a tremendous sense of loss. He felt himself being folded away and placed on a shelf.

The familiar cloud of unconsciousness crept in all around him. He welcomed the coming sleep. He knew that it was only temporary.

Soon enough, he would serve his Queen again.

A Few of My Favorite Things Part Two

2011-12-30T06:15:00.002-05:00

End of the year is always a great time for sex bloggers to pretend that they are pop culture bloggers and make a list. Or it is a great time to just gab about things that they love.

Ryan Kickland is a talented songwriter and composer with a terrific range but his 2010 album "Wood Carvings" is an awesome bit of folk perfection. Although there are songs about criminals unjustly imprisoned and the revenge they plan on the warden, there are also songs about a woodcarver who would love to carve some bizarre grotesque shit but all the people will buy from him is boring boring ass carvings of animals. It is the kind of album I suspect that will resonate more with creative types than anyone else, but it also contains universal gems like "Homesick" that will make a grown man weep for his mom's Sunday dinner.

"Drood" by Dan Simmons is a book about Charles Dickens' best friend, Wilkie Collins, who comes to suspect that Charles Dickens might be a criminal mastermind who murders people for kicks. The genius of the book is that halfway through, you are wondering if Charles Dickens really is a murdering bastard who kills people for fun and mischief.

It is a 700 page monster of a book but thanks to the wonder of Dan Simmons' skill, the pace is blistering. I put off reading this book for awhile because I feared that anything that happened during Charles Dickens' lifetime was going to be a slow ponderous affair. I couldn't have been more wrong. It is a joy to watch a master writer pump so much historical and literary information out and yet still construct a gripping and entertaining story.

"Justified" is a series on FX about a marshal, Raylan, who killed a criminal in Florida in a perfectly legal if slightly trigger happy way and is sent back to his home state of Kentucky as punishment/protection. Raylan might be the greatest gunslinger of the modern world. The problem is that even though his kills are always justified and legal, they make for a shitload of headaches and paperwork.

What makes this series perfect is it goes elbow deep into the white trash criminal underworld of Kentucky. As a North Carolina boy, I never understood why people like "the Sopranos" but man, when I watch "Justified" it is like seeing all the people I knew from home fucking up exactly like I expected them to. I get these people. The only way to make good money is either dangerous back breaking work in the mines, or dangerous but thrilling work for criminals.

Raylan himself is a force of fucking nature. When we watch westerns and tv shows, we suspend belief to allow the hero to do cool action hero things. What makes "Justified" so awesome is that Raylan is a fictional western hero in the real world. People keep fucking with him and he keeps shooting them dead. His boss admires him and hates him at the same time. There is no shortage of scumbags for the meat grinder that is Raylan.

Shrimp Scampi - Take half a stick of butter and a splash of olive oil. Heat up in a pan and add half a pound of shrimp. Cook shrimp for a few minutes and then remove shrimp. Put shrimp in the toaster oven at the lowest heat. Really you just need to keep them warm.

Add another half a stick of butter to your pan along with half a cup of chicken broth and 1/4 cup of white wine. Bring to a boil. Re-add the shrimp again. Add enough crushed garlic to kill a vampire, lemon juice, salt and capers. Cook for another minute or so. Add to pasta. Soak in adoration of spouse.

A Few of My Favorite Things Part One

2011-12-29T12:04:00.003-05:00

Christmas vacation is two weeks long here in the Richards household. I haven't been blogging much because all it would be about is how my wife and I played various boardgames. We also ate some really good Japanese food but again, not terribly exciting.

Because it is the end of the year I do want to take some time out and list some of my favorite things like a perverse Maria Von Trapp. These are things that I may or may not have mentioned and I think you would really enjoy them.

Lykke Li is a Swedish songwriter and singer. Just twenty-five years old, her music has that odd combination of youthful optimism and terribly accurate pessimism of what her future contains. Songs range from haunting sexy to haunting morose. Mostly just haunting. She has two albums, "Wounded Rhymes" and "Youth Novels" and I adore both of them.

Pym is a book by Mat Johnson about race, hilarity and Edgar Allen Poe's rather cryptic novel, “The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket.” Wait! Don't run away because unlike Poe, this book is easily read by modern audiences and is ten times better. It is also really fucking funny in the way that only discussions about racism can be. I love this book so much I am afraid to discuss it for fear of spoiling anyting or giving away the best jokes. It is my favorite book of the year.

I play a lot of videogames. It is really hard to pick a favorite this year but judging by total time played, I have sunk over a hundred hours into Dungeons of Dredmor, so I guess it is my favorite. Dungeons of Dredmor is a simple game where you control a male or female adventurer, trying to get to the bottom of a dungeon and kill the lich Dredmor. Along the way you will discover traffic cones to wear as helmets, a dozen types of cheese to eat, monsters that look like they were designed by Monty Python and that general feeling of silliness that you get from the best Dungeons and Dragons games, back before you started taking it too seriously.

The game will also fucking murder you. Oh my gods, will it slay you. It is turn based, so you have all the time in the world to make your decisions, which is why it is ten times more painful when a bad decision gets you killed. At least the humor inherent in the violence will keep you smiling.

The Black Keys rock. I should say more but really, when your band consists of one guitarist vocal and a drummer, it is hard to say nice things without sounding like a teenage boy. Wait, I will channel sixteen year old Shon to write this next bit-

"Oh my god you guys! This band rocks! They sing about bad girlfriends and being in love and it sounds all manly and shit without getting depressing like that pussy, Phil Collins! You totally got to listen to them! A lot of their songs are about women who are bad for them, like when I had a crush on Adrian in English class even though she was a total bitch to me in homeroom. They feel my pain!"

Also, their videos are pretty hilarious.

Fiction: Tree Panties

2011-12-28T08:52:00.000-05:00

Heidi left her panties on the Christmas tree. I didn’t see them at first. Tucked right underneath the garland, it looked like part of the tree. It was red with white fur trim, the sort of novelty underwear that they sell at Christmas but always looks too trashy to be taken seriously. Which meant it was perfect for Heidi.

The damp spot reflected the flashing Christmas lights. She had soaked her panties on the drive over. She didn’t have time to take them off before I ate her cunt. The cheap material made my tongue feel weird but it was worth it for all the squirming she did.

I remember that she pulled her panties to the side when I fucked her. Heidi was like that. Too horny to even undress, she liked to fuck as soon as possible. She asked me if I liked my gift as I fucked her under the tree. I answered by coming.

Heidi was gone when I came back from the bathroom. That was also like her. She never said goodbye, she just left. The panties on the tree were a nice touch. I guess it really was my gift.

I am just glad I saw it before the wife came home.

Fiction: The Twelve Days of Orgasm Denial

2011-12-21T07:54:00.000-05:00

On the first day of her orgasm denial, Emily was told to strip for Walter while he jacked off. She enjoyed playing with her stockings and she loved teasing him with her slow reveal of her heavy breasts but her enjoyment soon turned to frustration when he refused to fuck her.

Emily moaned as he came upon her tits. She was allowed to lick the seed off but the cock was off limits. There would be no cock for her hungry cunt.

On the second day of her orgasm denial, Emily’s ass was spanked with a paddle still in its wrapping paper. The sting of the paddle was not blunted by the thin paper that sheathed it. Walter turned her ass as red as a magic reindeer’s nose.

No matter how wet her cunt made his lap, he refused to even let have a single finger inside her.

On the third day of her orgasm denial, Emily bit her gag as Walter played with her tits. He bit and sucked her sensitive nipples before bringing out the clothespins, the floggers and the terrible clamps. He brought her breasts to life with arousing pain and delicious agony. When he was finished, she was desperately trying to hump his leg.

He ignored her pleas for his cock as he stroked himself off. She watched in frustration as his white seed splashed her tender breasts.

On the fourth day of her orgasm denial, Emily served as Walter’s pillow. She was naked on her stomach as Walter rested his head on her ass. He leaned between her legs and read while she silently prayed for sex.

Walter slept on her bare breasts that night.

On the fifth day of her orgasm denial, Emily listened to all the naughty fucking that Walter planned to do with her. He was going to fuck her mouth. He was going to fuck her ass. He was going to fuck her cunt. He was going to fuck her on the couch, on the table, on the floor and on the damn porch. Walter was very descriptive and he kept her thinking about sex all day long.

Emily squeezed her thighs tightly together but the yearning never went away.

On the sixth day of her orgasm denial, Emily suffered through a wonderful massage. Walter covered her body in warm oil and touched every inch f her skin except her cunt. He rubbed her willing thighs, her arching back and her sensitive nipples.

No matter how hard he massaged her, Emily just couldn’t relax.

On the seventh day of her orgasm denial, Emily was taken to a swinger’s party. They had never been to one before and Emily was amazed at the variety of body types and sexual acts. She couldn’t participate because she was tied to a wall and unable to touch herself. Emily could watch though. She watched for hours as people masturbated, gave blowjobs, went down on strange women and fucked.

It was the longest four hours of her life.

On the eight day of her orgasm denial, Emily was masturbated with a candy cane. She was tied tightly down to the table but still she fought like a slut to touch herself. The cane was too thin, too small and too slow to give her the climax she craved but she was so damn close. Walter teased and pushed the cane inside her with cruel teasing that she had never imagined.

Afterwards, she was allowed to eat the cane and taste her desire.

On the ninth day of her orgasm denial, Emily begged. It was her one chance to cheat the promised torment. She got on her knees before Walter and promised him everything and anything. From deep within, she confessed secrets and offered to do unthinkable acts if it would convince him to fuck her.

He denied her requests.

On the tenth day of her orgasm denial, Emily sucked Walter’s cock. He fucked her mouth with the passion that he denied her cunt. He came in her mouth and she swallowed it all. Later, he came a second time on her face. When the first drops of seed splattered against her face, she never felt so close to orgasm as she did then.

She dreamed of an endless row of cocks for her mouth.

On the eleventh day of her orgasm denial, Emily was tied up for most of the day. She was hogtied. She was suspended from the ceiling. She was bound to the table. She was bound under the desk. All day she was held in rope and her hands were inches away from her hungry cunt.

That night she slept with her hands bound to the headboard.

On the twelfth day of her orgasm denial, Emily was fucked in the ass. She had never climaxed from ass fucking but that day she was sure that she would. When Walter’s cock opened her ass, she felt like she was truly filled for the first time in her life. As he thrust inside her, Emily could feel her orgasm threatening to explode at any moment.

She still hadn’t climaxed when he spilled his seed in her ass.

After the twelfth day of her orgasm denial, Emily was vibrating with need. She cried tears when Walter’s cock finally pushed into her cunt. She hung onto him like a dying woman, dying to be reborn in the fires of her orgasm.

The orgasm eluded her. After so long of dreaming about it, craving it, wanting it and almost feeling it, now she found it impossible to reach. She was too sensitive. Every thrust inside her was overwhelming. Every clench of her cunt was too intense. Emily feared that it would never happen.

Emily climaxed and felt herself changed forever.

Fiction: The Santa Who Tried to Fuck Christmas

2011-12-14T09:05:00.000-05:00

Olivia Pusse’ groaned as they pulled into the mall parking lot. Cars stretched into the horizon. There must be hundreds of people here, if not a thousand. The place was going to be packed tighter than Olivia’s ass when Isaac was inside her last night.

“Now there is going to be kids here, so no guns,” Isaac Cox said.

“Right,” Olivia said. She looked at her partner. At six and half feet tall of black muscle and a gorgeous body, Isaac didn’t need a gun to fuck someone over. Just one swing of his fist was usually enough to break a jaw or an arm.

He looked at her and flashed a smile that made her wet between the thighs. It was the kind of smile that made Olivia feel like the prettiest girl in the whole world. Fuck, it only took him one smile to melt her heart.

She really wished that she knew what the fuck she was getting him for Christmas. It was their first Christmas together and she just knew that his wonderful ass had bought her something special. Olivia usually just got her boyfriends blowjobs for Christmas but that didn’t seem enough this year. Olivia just wished that she could come up with something half as special as she felt for him.

“I’ll try to blend in with the crowd,” Isaac said. Her bounty hunter boyfriend was as focused as a laser for this job.

“I’ll slip in with the Santa attraction and try to confirm that he’s our target,” Olivia said.

Isaac looked at her outfit. “Are you carrying any weapons?”

“Does it look like I am can hide any weapons?” Olivia said. The red Santa coat she was wearing didn’t even come down to her midriff and it had a cleavage that was far more naughty than nice. The red skirt she wore barely covered her ass but the white stockings prevented any unexpected chimney entries. The leather boots she wore were thigh high but they did have little jingle bells on them. Her long blonde hair spilled out from under a Santa hat.

“From what Dr. Von Madd said, this robot can easily kill a man with its bare hands,” Isaac said.

“Right, and I used to be a cheerleader,” Olivia said, “and before that, a teenage girl detective. I have broken more hands than a crazy robot ever has. I’ll be fine.”

Isaac smiled again. “Baby, you are always more than fine.”

From anyone else, it would have sounded like a cheesy line. The reason Olivia felt her thighs clench was because when Isaac said it, he genuinely meant it.

She really needed to find him something awesome for a Christmas gift.

“Let’s move out,” Isaac said.

They entered the mall at different entrances. Olivia saw the stunned looks of shoppers as she walked by. Yeah, she knew that she had dressed too sexy to work in a mall but she also knew that a sexy woman could cut through a crowd faster than anybody. Guys pushed wives out of the way to let her through. Small children looked in awe at her busty blonde body and wondered at the strange feelings in their pants.

It gave her a clear view of what everyone was selling. She walked at a brisk pace but she was still looking for anything to buy Isaac. Ever since they had gotten together, they had been working jobs tracking down bad people for Dr. Von Madd. They rarely had recreation time and when they did, they spent all of that time fucking. Sure, they are and watched a few movies, but mostly that was to rest between fuckings.

Mp3 players seemed pointless. Fancy electronic book reading machines were silly when the only books they read now were dirty books to each other. Isaac had his two favorite chrome pistols so buying him another gun wouldn’t be special. Shit, there just wasn’t anything that she knew that he wanted.

Olivia was seriously considering calling one of her sorority sisters from college and seeing if she could work out a Christmas threesome. The only problem with that is that Isaac hadn’t even glanced at another woman since they had been together. An extra woman might just be work to him.

It was times like these that she wished her boyfriend was a little less awesome. It would certainly take the pressure off her.

It took her no time to reach Santa’s Village. Santa’s seat was empty. Beside the chair stood two very bored looking male staff dressed as elves. A long line of children and their parents had already formed. The poor bastards.

Only Olivia and Isaac knew that the insane inventor, Dr. Gedo, had created a sex robot to take Santa’s place this year. The sick inventor had a thing for children but due to a very fortunate electrical accident, he didn’t have any working equipment below the belt. The perverted fuck created a pedophile sex robot to enjoy the twisted fantasies that Dr. Gedo himself could not enjoy. By disguising the vile robot as Santa, he guaranteed that his victims would come to him.

The bad Dr. Gedo was rotting in a jail cell but his creation was missing. Olivia and Isaac could only hope to stop the bad Santa before Santa’s Village opened for business.

“Hey guys!” Olivia said to the two mall elves. “I’m new here!”

“Holy mistletoe!” one guy said. The other guy was too busy staring at the tanned slope of Olivia’s breasts.

“Is Santa here, yet?” she asked. She pounded her fist into her hand as she asked the question.

“Uh, yeah,” the speaking guy said. Staring guy said nothing. “He should be coming out right about now.”

“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa boomed. He stepped out from behind a Christmas tree. He was a bit taller than Isaac, which concerned Olivia a bit. When he moved, his thick bulk didn’t jiggle with fat or stuffing. He was rock solid.

“Which one of you boys and girls want to ride Santa’s lap first?” Santa said. “I got a candy cane for you if you can find it! Ho, ho ho-erk!”

Santa’s lewd comment was interrupted by Olivia’s leather boot colliding with his face. His bright red nose crumpled and exploded in a shower of sparks.

“SHE NINJA KICKED SANTA!” a horrified child screamed.

“Power down, Santa!” Olivia yelled. “Dr. Gedo is back in prison!”

“Swallow this!” Santa replied. He opened his mouth and a thick spray of white and pink liquid flew from his mouth.

Olivia dodged it with an easy somersault over a fake bag of toys. The two mall elves behind her were not so lucky. The spray hit them in their face and they screamed in pain. They clutched their eyes and rolled on the ground. The smell of peppermint hung in the air.

“Was that a peppermint pepper spray?” Olivia asked. That Dr. Gedo was an evil bastard.

“Someone’s been naughty!” Santa yelled. He yanked off his black belt and cracked it like a whip in the air. Sharp blades emerged from the end of the belt. Some of the more violent kids applauded this new development.

Santa whipped his belt at Olivia and cleaved the top of a Christmas tree beside her. As Olivia dodged to the right, his belt snapped out and tore off the top of a plastic Christmas tree. Olivia was fine but her sudden movement was too much for her sexy top. Her right breast almost fell out and she clutched it with her hand to protect the innocence of the children.

“Tits!” a kid yelled. He was soon smacked by his mom.

“Where the fuck is Isaac?” Olivia wondered. She looked into the crowd but all she saw were smiling kids and their staring parents. Shit, even Isaac would have a hard time fighting through that crowd.

Fine, she’ll handle this on her own.

She made a run for Santa. The laughing robot held out his arms and extended robots fingers an extra seven inches. Olivia tried not to think about why a sex robot needed extra long fingers and focused on the fake reindeer in front of her. She jumped on the reindeer with a perfect cheerleader leap and sailed through the air feet first.

Olivia kicked Santa in the head so hard that his face spun around one hundred and eighty degrees. Several children screamed at the grotesque act of near decapitation. Olivia landed on the ground beside Santa and paused a moment to see which way he would fall.

The children began to applaud and Olivia knew something bad had happened. She dodged just in time as backwards facing Santa made a grab for her head. He grabbed her hat instead and he stuffed it into his mouth. In seconds, he had shredded the hat with chainsaw teeth.

“Not as nice as your panties would be, but it better than cookies!” Santa said. His head turned around and snapped back into the right place.

“Well fuck,” Olivia said.

Santa took a step towards her when a reindeer crashed into him from behind. As Santa staggered, a tree slammed into him followed by a sleigh. Olivia smiled when she saw Isaac picking up a giant nutcracker soldier to throw at Santa next.

Olivia realized that she really needed to get her boyfriend a great Christmas gift.

“That black man is hurting Santa!” a kid cried.

The more racist kids charged away from their parents and ran right into Isaac. The giant black man had no idea how to disengage small children from his legs. Olivia knew that if those were horny adult women, his stripper training would kick in and he would have no trouble. To an adult entertainer like Isaac, children were an entirely foreign experience.

“Good children!” Santa yelled. “I am going to give each of you a treat for being a good! Right up your asses!”

A shocked gasp rippled through the crowd of parents. They kept watching though.

Santa opened his pants and a large steel contraption emerged from his crotch. It looked like some sort of gun. It might be some kind of sex toy.

“Shit,” Olivia said. “It is probably both.”

And it was aimed at her boyfriend.

“Hell no!” Olivia yelled. She planted a kick right into Santa’s knee. The sound of tortured metal squealed as Santa’s leg gave out.

As Santa stumbled, Olivia jumped and locked her thighs around Santa’s head. She was careful to avoid his mouth as she fell back with her body weight. Olivia hit the fake snow hard but Santa fell with her and they were both on the ground.

Olivia squeezed. The kids and parents looked on as she squeezed her thighs around Santa’s head. She didn’t care. The dumb fuckers should be moving since Santa’s metal extension was now pointing at them.

“Drink my eggnog!” Santa cried as his head began to collapse.

Olivia squeezed tighter. She tried to imagine that Isaac was between her thighs licking her cunt and he was thinking of stopping.

Sparks flew from Santa’s head. “Who’s your Father Christmas?”

Olivia clenched her thighs even tighter. She had one chance to kill this Santa and it would be up to the power of her thighs.

Santa’s legs twitched as major malfunctions rippled through his body. “I will make you ride my North Pole!”

Olivia squeezed.

Santa’s head crumpled under the tremendous stress. His body stopped moving and his strange metal cock retracted back into his body. The evil robot was dead.

“Olivia, are you okay!” Isaac said. He stood over her and held out his hand. He still had a racist kid clinging to one of his legs.

Olivia took his hand and let him help her up. She then grabbed the ear of the racist kid and twisted until he let go. The racist kid went crying to his mom.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Olivia said. “Turns out that a pedophile robot Santa can’t handle an adult woman’ thighs.”

“Shit, I can barely handle them,” Isaac said. He took of his black duster and wrapped it around Olivia’s body. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. Mall Security will be here any minute now that it is safe.”

They hurried towards an exit. Psychologically traumatized children lingered near Santa and tried to steal bits off of him. Mall Security guards ran past Olivia and Isaac in a valiant attempt to appear useful.

“Isaac?” Olivia said. “What the fuck do you want for Christmas? I know you got me something awesome because you are a sweet guy but damn it, I just can’t think of anything to get you.”

Isaac stopped walking and he looked at her. “Olivia, all I want for Christmas is to wake up next to you. You are the greatest gift I have in my life and honestly, that is all I could ever want much less needed.”

Olivia reached up and pulled his bald head down to her for a kiss. When they both ran out of air, she hugged him in the busy mall.

“Although I have to say,” Isaac added. “If you were wearing this outfit when I woke up, that would be pretty nice too.”

Olivia hugged him tighter. “Okay, but I won’t be wearing it for long.”

Buck Pole Announcement

2011-12-12T08:37:00.003-05:00

Eros University would like to remind our students that the dorms will be closed for the holidays beginning December 19th. We understand that many of our students will wish to continue their erotic education over the holidays and have no interest in returning home where they might have to explain to their grandmothers what Gangbang Physics 101 is. To accommodate these students, we will once again be opening up the Buck Pole in Student Plaza.

The Buck Pole is a tradition that has existed for 40 years to help place students with homes who can provide an erotic education over the holiday period. The Buck Pole was originally a place for the local town people to hang their deer hunting trophies but now it has been repurposed as a place for students to show off themselves in hopes of finding an interesting alternative for the holidays. These men, women, couples and sometimes sex clubs, open up their homes and legs to welcome our students. In exchange for lodging, meals and a comfortable environment, the students share what they have earned with their generous hosts.

To participate, all a student needs to do is appear at the Buck Pole at noon, buck naked. If they have preferences or limitations, they should write these on their body. For example, students will write that they are heterosexual, prefer bondage or are lactose intolerant. Some students have found homes by listing what classes they are taking. Majoring in Oral Pleasure is a sure way to get into the home of a lonely widow during the holiday. Although no clothing is allowed, feel free to get creative and festive with your writing and use colored markers or stencil some snowflakes onto yourself.

Students are free of course to turn down any proposals from interested town people but keep in mind that the town people are the ones doing the inviting. You are representing Eros University and any poor behavior will be reported and recorded in your permanent record.

Dean of Student Affairs
Paul Grayon

Fiction: Christmas Bonus

2011-12-07T09:02:00.000-05:00

I looked at the festive green envelope with disdain. There it was, sitting on my desk as a cruel reminder of how much my boss, Sandra, disrespects me and my fellow coworkers. Inside will be the annual Christmas card from my manager and also there will be a tiny gift card for a measly twenty-five bucks to some place I would never go to. Last year it was to a bath store in the mall and the year before that, a pet store. What the fuck? Are they subtle insults or just complete indifference?

The envelope said Jeff Grenich so I know it was for me even though there are two n’s in my name. I have worked here four years and she still spells my name wrong.

I sit and open it. I am morbidly curious to see what hellhole the gift card is for this year.

There was a note.

“Hey Rodney, please use this gift card at 9am this morning. I am free until lunch.

Yours,
Sandra”

Rodney? Rodney Celler in sales? I looked for the gift card. It was hand written on a small index card.

“This card is good for one long sloppy blowjob until you explode down my throat in a flood of cum. Redeem this card in Sandra Miller’s waiting mouth.”

Well now. That was unexpected and obviously not meant for me.

I looked at the time. 8:42. Close enough.

I adjusted the erection I had in my pants so it wouldn’t be visible when I stood up. I held the card in my hand as I walked past my unhappy coworkers opening their Christmas cards. The smile that came to my lips must have confused the hell out of them.

I let myself into Sandra’s office. She was on the phone and she looked at me with annoyance. The thick blonde hair that she wore in her very professional manner looked even more severe when she frowned. It occurred to me that I had no idea how it looked when she smiled.

I also noticed that her clothes were slightly different from usual. She was wearing a red blazer that showed a lot of cleavage. Gold earrings that were a little inappropriate for an office dangled from each ear. I suspected that if I looked behind that desk, she might actually be wearing a skirt and heels.

“Yes, I will get those numbers to you soon,” she said to the phone. “I have to go now and get ready for an appointment. Bye. And what do you want Jeff?”

“I wanted to thank you for my gift card.”

Her frown softened a millimeter. “You are very welcome. I hope you enjoy shopping at health store. They have excellent digestion supplements.”

“Oh? That is not what it says on my card?”

I showed the card to her. I made sure to keep it in my hand and I snatched it away when she reached for it. The frown deepened and then transformed into a snarl.

“How did you get that?” she asked.

“It was in an envelope addressed to me,” I said. “I was surprised but then, I have done really good work this year.”

Sandra snorted at that before realizing the position that she was in. She smiled in what I think was meant to be a pleasant manner. It was unsettling.

“Oh Jeff, I think there has been a mix up. Why don’t you hand that card over and we’ll pretend this never happened. Maybe I could look into getting a better parking spot in exchange for your understanding?”

“No, Sandra,” I said. My voice was much firmer than even I expected. “I want to redeem the card, and the instructions were quite clear on how to redeem it.”

Sandra stared at me. Color rose to her pale cheeks. Cold blue eyes narrowed at me and planned a thousand humiliations for me. I noticed her red lipstick for the first time and realized that it was for a cock.

“Or I could go give it to Human Resources along with my letter and ask them why my manager is sexually harassing me?”

Sandra closed her eyes. “Make sure the door is locked.”

The handle locked with a satisfying click. It was not as satisfying as the look on Sandra’s face when I walked around to her side of the desk. Nor was it as satisfying as the feeling of her fingers undoing my belt, then my zipper and then pulling my cock from my briefs.

Sandra looked at my cock. Maybe she was rethinking it. I helped her decide with my hand to the back of her head. My hands wrapped into that perfectly coifed hair and pulled her to my cock.

She opened her lipstick covered lips and took me in. She only took the tip of me at first, her lips wrapping around the head of my cock. Before I could think that she was shirking her duty, I felt her tongue licking at the slit. That sharp tongue that had rebuked me so many times was flicking at my tip like an oral professional.

I groaned. My plan was to be cool and distant but I couldn’t do it. God damn it, she was good.

Sandra’s fingers went to my balls and held them with a gentleness that I didn’t think she was capable of. A small tug of my balls and my cock slipped deeper into her mouth. This time she was the one that moaned.

My hand went to her chest. I slipped right under the blazer and felt her breast under the thin shirt she wore. I felt nipple and quite a bit of underwire.

Her eyes glared at me. I glared back and squeezed her breast.

She closed her eyes and took another inch of me into her mouth. Fuck. Her cheeks caved in as she sucked as hard as could. My fingers closed reflexively around her breast and I think we both moaned.

I squeezed her tit harder. My fingers repaid her for every time she dismissed one of my ideas. I twisted her nipple for every time she passed me over for a promotion. I pulled on her breast for every time she had stuck me with the shit work. I grabbed her tit because she didn’t want me to.

Sandra pulled my cock deeper into her mouth. I watched in lust as my cock disappeared between her lips. The grip on my balls grew tighter but I was too enthralled to mind.

When there was no more cock to devour, she pulled her head back ten times as fast as she took me in. I groaned as she remounted my cock with her mouth. The time for slowness was gone. I shuddered as her head snapped back and forth with an expertise that I could barely comprehend. I was watching it but I still couldn’t believe how fast and hard she was sucking my cock. I let go of her head just and Sandra just went faster.

Spit dribbled down to my balls and onto her hand. Her mouth was as wet as any pussy. Wetter. Back and forth she fucked my cock. I swear her lips made squishy sounds as she blew me.

Lipstick smeared my cock. Sandra’s hair bounced with every thrust of her head. Her fingers squeezed around my balls as if trying to command the sperm out of me.

I was going to come. I forgot about how bad of a boss she was. She was just a mouth that I desperately wanted to come in. Nothing else was important.

When I filled her mouth with seed, she stopped and took all of me into her mouth. Her fingers tight around my balls as she sucked, pulled and swallowed every last drop from my cock.

My knees grew weak and I leaned against her desk. Sandra looked up at me and smiled. She wiped a line of spit from her chin.

“The card,” she said.

I gave it to her. I wanted to say something cold and cruel but my mind was as empty as my cock. She took the card and slipped it into her blazer. She was saving it to use again later.

“Go, Jeff,” she said. “I still expect the Monthly report today.”

I nodded and zipped up my pants. Of course it was due today. There was no need to remind me of it, I had never been late with it before.

For once though, her reminder didn’t bother me as much as it usually did.

Fortune and Glory!

2011-12-05T08:47:00.006-05:00

Fortune and Glory is a board game from Flying Frog where players take on the roles of 1930's explorers, scientists, reporters and club singers as they explore ancient temples, dangerous tombs and terrible traps in the search for fantastic mythical treasure.

It is also a board game that costs around 100$. Well, that's the 'fortune' part of the title right there.

On the other hand, every single dollar is visible in this game. Instead of the expected cardboard counters, there are quite a few plastic miniatures and plastic coins. The cards are made of some high quality glossy stuff that I suspect could survive several drinks spills. The box itself is about twice the length of most games. Hell, the game comes with a soundtrack(!) of quite good background music for playing the game.

I have to take a moment to mention the art style for this game. They use pulp style illustrations for some of the cards, but every character and quite a few other cards use color photos of people dressed in period clothes. Some people have criticized the photos as looking like cosplayers you would see at conventions but personally, I consider that to be a huge plus. They look like people having fun dressing up as mobsters and sexy reporters. Fun is infectious. It is impossible to look at the character photos and not want to go grab your own prop to dress up with.

Which brings us to the game itself. The game has several gameplay modes. I highly recommend trying the simplest mode first, which is competitive.

Do you remember the first Indiana Jones movie where Indy breaks into the temple and comes out with the treasure, only to lose it that asshole archeologist who was waiting for him? That is competitive mode in this game. Players race against each to grab treasure, doing their best to sabotage each other and claim artifacts for themselves.

The more complicated mode is cooperative mode where players work together against a common enemy. The enemy in this case is either the Nazis (hiss!) or the Mob (Boo!). Which is sort of like the third Indiana Jones movie where everyone is kicking Nazi ass and grabbing treasures before Hitler gets his slimy paws on it.

I like cooperative mode because it lets me and my wife play against the board and work together. There are not many fun games on the market that can do that. The only downside is that when it is the bad guys' turn, you have to go through a five step procedure to do their turn. I am sure that I will get the hang of it eventually but it was quite cumbersome the first time around. On the other hand, the villain turn requires random rolls to determine their actions, making it completely impartial which is perfect for a cooperative game.

My wife and I lost our first game this weekend but we had a lot of fun playing it. When you attempt to get a treasure, you have to complete challenges drawn from a deck. The challenge will say something like this.

"Your plane engine suddenly stops working! Someone has sabotaged you! Roll blah blah to fix the engine!"

Now if you do the roll, then you get Glory and everything is peachy. If you fail, then you flip the card over and must do the Cliffhanger. The Cliffhanger is a hard dice roll that you need to make or end up knocked out and sent back to your home city. The thing is, you aren't allowed to resolve the Cliffhanger UNTIL YOUR NEXT TURN. Which means in true cliffhanger spirit, you are left staring at the terrible fate awaiting you while everyone else does their turn. Delicious.

My Russian Mad Scientist character was in a plane crash, fell down a mountain and navigated a terrible ancient labyrinth in my quest for the Helmet of Atlantis while an evil Nazi vixen was chasing me and trying to get the Helmet for her diabolical Fuhrer. That was ONE adventure that I had in this game out of several. Pretty damn neat.

Essentially this game is always about pushing your luck. There is always a safer, slower way to do things but you are always racing against someone for that treasure. Going slow lets you heal and recover between challenges but when a Nazi goon is one step away from the treasure, sometimes you can't stand to stop and rest. It is certainly a game for thrill seekers and risk takers.

So is it worth 100$? It depends on the players. If you like working together, then you will like it. If you like screwing each other over, this game can accommodate you too. If you love pulp cliffhangers with lost temples and terrible villains, you are going to want this game. If you can handle the ups and downs of glorious fortune and cruel twists of fate, then you will love this game.

(On a completely different angle - after playing this game, I called my wife's breasts "Fortune and Glory" and she didn't mind a bit. That is a good game if you ask me.)

Fiction: Voyage Between the Thighs

2011-11-30T08:28:00.000-05:00

Dr. Veronica Passik was naked on the examination table. Comfortable stirrups held her ankles and parted her legs. Across from her was a bullet shaped vehicle the size of a small bus. A small chute only an inch wide led from the vehicle to between her legs. A look of concern was on her face.

“Is this safe, Dr. Von Madd?” she asked.

“Of course it is,” Dr. Otto Von Madd said. “I am the world’s greatest expert on erotic sciences. I will personally be piloting the Maddillus V 2.0 into your vagina. After it has been shrunk of course.”

Veronica bit her lip. “I don’t doubt your skill, Doctor, but are you sure the shrinking ray is safe?”

Dr. Von Madd took off his purple goggles. “Perfectly safe. It was designed by my great grand uncle, Albert Von Madd, back in 1911. The principles are still the same although it was very difficult to find the irradiated tobacco that powers the device. Back then in Albert’s time, radioactive tobacco was thought to promote virility and was much more common. I had to grow an entire crop just for today’s adventure.”

Veronica stared at the giant vehicle aimed at her crotch. “Maybe this is an extreme measure to go to for an orgasm.”

Dr. Von Madd snorted. “Nonsense. It is a crime for any woman to have reached their mid twenties without an orgasm, much less a perfectly smart lubricant chemist such as yourself. Once I discovered that you have never experienced sexual satisfaction, I made getting you off my personal mission.”

“And I appreciate that, sir,” Veronica said. “But after trying your full line of vibrators, seven sex robots, thirty interns of male and female genders as well as the Von Madd Scientist Dating site, what makes you think that this will work?”

Dr. Von Madd smiled. “This time, it will be me inside you.”

The door to the Maddillus opened and a short Asian girl stepped out of it. She was completely naked.

“We’re ready for launch, Dr!” the girl said.

“Thank you, Dr. Dazai,” Dr. Von Madd said. “I will be there in a moment. Any last questions, Dr. Passik?”

“Just two,” Veronica said. “Why is she in there?”

“Dr. Dazai is a brilliant engineer in the field of experimental sex toys,” Dr. Von Madd said. “She is one of the few people who understand every piece of equipment on the Maddillus.”

“Okay, but why is Dr. Dazai naked?”

Dr. Von Madd paused in the unzipping of his pants. “In case of a structural collapse in which we are forced out of the wreckage of the Maddillus and into your biology, I thought it safer to be in as natural state as possible. That way if we die inside you vagina, you just need to expel biological material and not worry about foreign synthetics”

“Not because she is terribly cute with her small breasts?” Veronica asked.

“That is a fortunate side effect of my precaution,” Dr. Von Madd said.

~~~~

“Seal hatches!”

“Hatches sealed!”

“Prepare Lubricating Shields!”

“Lubricating shields activated!”

“Engage Vibration Engines!”

“Vibration Engines One, Two and Three are activated!”

“Activate Shrink Ray!”

“Shrink Ray On!”

“Firing Shrinking Ray!”

“Hold on tight! Preferably to my cock!”

Dr. Kimi Dazai felt the terrific pull of gravity as the Maddillus V 2.0 sped down the chute. Thanks to the vibrational engines, it was a bumpy ride. Dr. Passik’s sex was in the distance but they were approaching it with terrifying speeds.

She looked at Dr. Von Madd. She realized that this was the first time she had really seen him without his goggles. She never noticed how focused he was before. He was a man that was all science. Well, sexy science.

Kimi took his earlier advice and reached for his cock. He was hard and warm in her hand. Dr. Von Madd reached for her thigh. His fingers gripped her tightly as the gigantic vagina of Dr. Passik loomed before them.

“Penetration in three . . . two . . . one . . .”

The Maddillus entered Dr. Passik. Half of the vessel submerged into her sex and the vibration engines completed the insertion. The monitors showed that the Maddillus was completely inside Dr. Passik’s sex.

“Now, we can get to work,” Dr. Von Madd said. Kimi tried not to pout when he moved his hand from her thigh. “We have already tested vibrators on her, so I think it is time we test different levels of girth.”

“Shall I turn on the expanders?” Kimi asked.

“Yes, Dr. Dazai,” he said. “Start with a two inch diameter.”

Kimi reluctantly let go of his cock and used both hands for the force field generators. Using the sliding control, Kimi slowly projected high powered fields around the Maddillus. With careful precision, she expanded the fields to simulate a two inch diameter cock.

The Maddillus shook. “Nothing to worry about,” Dr. Von Madd said. “I believe that was just her vaginal walls clenching.”

The Maddillus shook again. This time there was a more powerful shift that lifted the Maddillus and then dropped it down.

“Yes, definitely a clench and possibly a hump,” Dr. Von Madd said. “How are the lubrication levels?”

“They are rising, Dr. Von Madd,” Kimi said.

“Excellent, begin thrust motion maneuver delta.”

Kimi keyed in the commands. The Maddillus rocked back and forth on the preset motions. Up, up, down, down, to the left and to the right before repeating itself.

The Maddillus shook as the walls clenched down tighter around them. Red lights flickered as the force fields were pushed to their tolerance levels. Kimi diverted power from the rotational motors and the texture adjustors. The force fields glowed green as they stabilized.

“I am detecting vigorous hip shifting,” Dr. Von Madd said. “I think she likes this movement.”

“How did you know that would respond to this one so well?” Kimi asked.

Dr. Von Madd looked at her. His intense eyes focused on her and she was in danger of making her seat very damp.

“The way she walked,” Dr. Von Madd said. “Her placement of thighs, shifting of weight and sway of her hips told me everything I needed to know. She walked like someone who would enjoy thrust maneuver delta.”

“I think I am enjoying it myself,” Kimi said.

Dr. Von Madd reached between her thighs. A finger slipped into her sex. Kimi’s eyes shut and she forgot all about the force fields.

“Oh yes,” Dr. Von Madd said. “It looks like you are.”

The Maddillus shook violently. Stress alarms flared. Worse, Doctor Von Madd pulled his finger out of her.

“What is going on?” Kimi yelled. “I am detecting non stop movement and severe vaginal wall force!”

“I believe she is near orgasm but is she getting frustrated at not reaching completion!” Dr. Von Madd said. “The scans of her clitoris are showing frantic finger stimulation. She’s trying to aid in her orgasm1”

“The force fields can’t sustain this much clenching!” Kimi yelled. “If she doesn’t climax soon, we’ll be crushed by her mounting frustration!”

Dr. Von Madd put the finger that was in Kimi into his mouth. He sucked her juices idly as he thought.

“Hmm, I speculate that her own anxiety about climaxing might be hindering her ability to climax. We are going to have to stimulate her in a way that goes right to her libido. I am preparing the sonic cannon.”

“Are you sure, Doctor?” Kimi asked. “You said vibrations haven’t worked on her before.”

“Sometimes you just have to try everything all at once,” Dr. Von Madd said. He typed a sequence of bursts. “I am aiming for her g-spot. I was hoping to reach it physically with the Maddillus but we’re out of time. If she gets too frustrated, she’ll quit and lose the mood. Hold on tight!”

Kimi grabbed his cock. The mad scientist didn’t object. If anything, his cock pulsed in her hand.

“Firing cannon!” Dr. Von Madd said.

The Maddillus hummed as the sonic cannon fired. The vessel stopped shaking as Dr. Passik’s body froze in motion. Dr. Von Madd’s cock throbbed between Kimi’s fingers.

They heard the rumble right before something slammed into the front of the Maddillus. Kimi cried out as the Maddillus was violently pushed backwards. A second later, she saw the rapidly diminishing sight of Dr. Passik’s sex as they were expelled in a flood of fluid.

Then the Maddillus began to fall. It fell down to the laboratory floor below Dr. Passik and from Kimi’s point of view, it was several miles down. The vessel spun as it plummeted to the hard unforgiving ground below.

She held on for dear life to Dr. Von Madd’s cock.

Dr. Von Madd leaned back in his seat and pressed a purple button. Giant balloons emerged from the sides of the Maddillus and wrapped around it like a protective shell.

They hit the ground and bounced.

They bounced a second and third time before coming to a rest.

“Oh my god,” Kimi said as they came to a stop. Her heart was pounding. All she could think of was the sight of the floor as they approached it.

“Good thing I installed this precaution,” Dr. Von Madd said. “Since Dr. Passik had never climaxed, I wanted to be prepared in case she was a squirter.”

“Oh my god,” Kimi said again.

“Or course, now we are a white bubble on a white lab floor,” Dr. Von Madd said. “I turned on the distress beacon, but it might take the staff an hour to find us because they will take precautions not to step on us.”

“Oh my fucking god!” Kimi said.

“Dr. Dazai, you appear to be in shock. I recommend that you mount me.”

“Oh my fucking holy shit!” Kimi said. She wasn’t capable of saying anything more coherent. The young engineer was able to get out of her seat and climb on top of Dr. Von Madd’s lap. She didn’t need to say anything as she slid down his cock and settled on top of him.

“I think thrust maneuver gamma would be best,” Dr. Von Madd said. He shifted under her with a tenderness that she found surprising. The sensation in her sex was even more surprising.

Dr. Kimi Dazai climaxed thirty seconds later.

Father Qang

2011-11-28T11:08:00.001-05:00

The early history of Euphoria was a time of chaos and instant gratification. Most Euphorians were content to molest each other and indulge their own appetites to the point that technology barely reached crude metal making. The world was broken up into small country-states, each ruled by one of the Seven Lords and Ladies of Pleasure. The Lords and Ladies never worked together and in fact wasted precious resources by battling each other.

This pitiful state of affairs continued until the appearance of the famed bandit, Qang. At first Qang was content to attack and raid the properties of the Seven Lords and Ladies but soon his great ambition pressed him for more. He understood that the people of Euphoria were happy to fuck and die for themselves because they never had anything higher to aspire to. Qang decided to give them a reason to live outside of their own desires. He would lead them to fight and die for his desires.

Qang raised a great army and over a bloody period of twenty years, he conquered all of the Lords and Ladies of Pleasure. He appealed to the greed of the Euphorians by offering them great treasures that the Lords and Ladies had locked away for themselves. He impressed the masses with his public molestations of the Lords and Ladies and he won the adoration of the masses with his creative executions of all who opposed him. He was a man of the people, taking into account that the average Euphorian is a bloodthirsty pervert.

With the bones of Lords and Ladies of Pleasure, Qang created the Skull Throne. Qang declared himself King and guided his people to a new age of prosperity. Under his guidance, he founded the Great Library of Deviance, dedicated to discovering new joys for the people of Euphoria. He founded the War Academy, where the greatest brutes and sadists could perfect their craft in his armies. He created the Order of Science, where the best and the brightest were given riches and bed slaves for their scientific achievements.

King Qang ruled for fifty years before he died of natural causes. His heart stopped when his daughter, Upata, fired an arrow into his chest. Queen Upata had her father buried with great honors and declared a week of abstinence as the planet mourned.

During this week of abstinence, many visions were reported by the population. Prophets came forth and declared that they had seen King Qang enter the Underworld where the Gods of Night fuck and eat the spirits of the deceased. Instead of being eaten, King Qang had organized a resistance and overthrew the Gods of Night. Now the Gods of Night exist as servants to Qang who rules the Underworld as an extension of the Skull Throne. He lost his title of King but is now known as Father Qang. He now judges the souls of those who die and rewards the wicked and loyal and punishes the docile and traitorous.

Queen Upata honored these great prophets with a personal orgy that lasted an entire month. She dismissed the temples of the Gods of Night and had them replaced with states of Father Qang. People are free to worship whomever they please as Queen Upata was a merciful Queen. They just shouldn’t expect the same mercy from Father Qang.

The Arch-Heretic, Tesi, argued that the visions of the prophets were just a result of hallucinations brought upon by the forced week of abstinence. Tesi also argues that the month long orgy was the final bribe paid by Queen Upata to ensure that her father would replace the planet’s religion. Tesi was punished by King Fong with an amazingly creative and debasing ordeal that was immortalized in a series of holomovies and books known as ‘The Story of T’.

Curiously, the heresy never caught on with the general populace. A survey conducted by the Order of Science determined that the average Euphorian believed that if Queen Upata engineered a massive religious hoax to seize spiritual power, then it was only more proof about how worthy she was in holding the Skull Throne.

--Euphorian Gazetteer

Black Friday Sale of My Books

2011-11-25T09:17:00.005-05:00

Imagine my disappointment when I discovered that Black Friday was not a celebration of African-American porn. Apparently it has to do with shopping and sales. I would much prefer brown tits and a lovely brown ass but oh well.

Lucky for you, Lulu has decided to have a sale too and now you can buy any of my books at 25% off the cover price. Fear not, Lulu takes the hit and my profits are untouched. I will take my profits and reinvest that money in more racially diverse erotica. It is a win/win!

Just buy any number of my book and when you get to the coupon code section, type in

BUYMYBOOK305

The coupon expires December 14, 2011 and will only count up to $50 maximum savings.

Fiction: First Impact

2011-11-23T09:09:00.001-05:00

Explorer’s Log: I am about to land on the 2nd planet orbiting the star designed, Queen’s Lack of Mercy, by Royal Astronomers. I have detected signs of humanoid life near the equator of this jungle planet. There is no sign of technology but I have found various settlements. I will land away from a village and approach on foot to determine their suitability for slavery to the Queen.

Explorer’s Personal Log: Fuck yes! I have finally found a primitive world! The Deep Space Probe laws allow me to enjoy up to seven days of gluttonous pleasure as I establish myself as a space goddess to these evolutionary starter students. This was one of the main reasons I even signed up for this mission. Seven days of initiating naive natives in the myriad sexual practices of getting me off will make up for the long lonely journey here.

Vaquel Di picked her way through the jungle. Steam rose from the floor as the bright sun above vaporized the morning moisture of the jungle. Lucky for Vaquel, her red skintight spacesuit that clung to every curve and cleft of her body regulated her internal temperature and protected her from the intense heat. Advances in glassteel technology prevented her bubble helmet from fogging over which meant that any primitive looking at her could see her pretty brown face topped by the short pink bangs that she had cultivated for this encounter. If the primitives of this world were going to make stone sculptures of her and paint cave drawings, she wanted to look her best.

The holographic display inside her helmet alerted her to the presence of an incoming humanoid lifeform. It was moving pretty fast and at a damn good pace through this thick jungle. Vaquel took out her plasma pistol in case the natives needed convincing of her superiority.

The humanoid came running out of the bush. He was as green as the jungle he emerged from. He was also butt-naked. He came to a stumbling halt when he saw Vaquel and his mouth opened in surprise. Eyes as red as rubies stared at her in incomprehensible shock.

Vaquel smirked. She said nothing and let him drink in the sight of her and her alien clothes. She did wonder why he was running through the jungle with no weapons of his own. Her smirk faded as she looked down his muscular body to the weapon he carried between his legs. His cock was massive, and bounced up and down with eager energy.

“Mok?” the green humanoid said.

“Vaquel,” she said. “Vaquel Di of the Royal Navy.” She knew that he didn’t understand her, but Royal Navy protocol required that she informed new slaves of their new masters.

“Mok?” the green humanoid said again.

Vaquel sighed. She was going to have to resort to basic pantomime for communication.

As she debated the proper way to convey that she was from the stars, the humanoid took a cautious step towards her. Vaquel kept her plasma pistol trained on him in case he needed melting. She also put her hand out to touch his, as most primitives like to be reassured that other people have hands too.

The humanoid’s hand ignored her hand and reached for her breast instead. His palm cupped her breast right where her nipple was pressing against the thin spacesuit. He smiled when his hand touched her stellar abundance.

“Mok,” he said again.

Vaquel debated fucking him before going to his village. The last good fuck she had was from a micro-nebula and the details of that weird experience were getting harder to recall every day. The way he was groping her breast had her convinced that they would have no trouble communicating about fucking.

The holographic display inside her helmet lit up with multiple scanner contacts. About thirty other humanoids were headed to Vaquel’s location. The deep space explorer looked at the humanoid in front of her and wondered if he somehow sent a signal that he had found her. Maybe the race didn’t need technology because they were psychic?

Vaquel pushed the guy’s hand away from her breast as more humanoids emerged from the jungle. The first thing Vaquel noticed was their size; these humanoids were easily eight feet tall if not taller. The second thing she noticed was that although they shared the same green skin and red eyes as her first contact, these humanoids were all female. The third thing she noticed is that they were all carrying weapons. Well, fuck.

“Greetings!” Vaquel yelled in a commanding tone. “I am Vaquel Di of the Royal Navy! I come from the stars to bless you all with my presence!”

Two seconds later, one of the green women threw her spear at Vaquel. Vaquel dodged to the side as the male beside her cowered into a ball. The spear impacted into a tree with such force that the tree cracked.

“You fucked up,” Vaquel said. She fired her plasma pistol at the woman who threw first. The woman’s head atomized in a super-heated flash of light. The other humanoids watched in stunned horror as the woman’s headless body crumpled into the mist of the jungle ground.

“Cag!” the women yelled together in response. They charged at Vaquel with their spears.

Vaquel reached for her utility belt and pulled out her vibration blade. A single click of a button and the blade was vibrating a thousand pulses per second. She brought the blade up just in time to slice the head off the point of a spear that was aimed for her chest, and then on the back swing, she severed the head of the woman wielding the spear.

As soon as the alien fell to the ground, two more took her place. Vaquel shot her plasma pistol at the chest of one woman and sank her vibration blade into the face of the second. She then had to dodge three spear thrusts from other attackers.

“You’re supposed to be worshiping me and my superior weapons!” Vaquel yelled in frustration.

They kept attacking. Vaquel kept killing. The odds were certainly against Vaquel as one giant woman after another tried to kill her. Better technology or not, no one can fight this many people without getting tired or injured. Fortunately for Vaquel, she had spent months of her space travel in the Exercise Pod trying to rig various vibrators to her exercise routine. All that sexual frustration was paying off as Vaquel dispatched one warrior woman after another.

Eventually there was no one left to kill. Vaquel stood in the jungle clearing, surrounded by corpses and dropped spears. Some of the aliens had run off but Vaquel didn’t have the energy to chase after them.

“Mok?” the male said. He was hiding behind a tree. When he saw that all of the women were dead, he ran forward and embraced Vaquel.

“Mok!” he said. He certainly seemed excited. Vaquel could feel his hard cock pressing against her thigh.

“At least I got something out of today,” Vaquel said. She put her vibration blade away and grabbed his cock. His manhood was almost pulsing more than her blade.

A strange cry came out of the forest. The sound caused the male to shake with fear. The holographic display in Vaquel’s helmet lit up with multiple life signs. The number of humanoids converging on their location was exceeding triple digits.

“Queen’s tits,” Vaquel swore. She had to get out of here. This planet wasn’t going to be pacified by one explorer. It was going to take a Warship and some orbital bombardments.

She squeezed the cock that was in her hand. Vaquel would be damned if she was leaving here empty handed.

Vaquel let go of his cock and grabbed the male’s wrist. “Come with me!”

She took off running. Like a good primitive alien, the male ran with her. At least one damn alien on this planet understood that she was in charge.

They reached the Deep Space Probe and the male hesitated at the strange sight before him. A slap on the ass later and he went into the small vessel. Vaquel spared a glance back at the jungle and saw that the scanner had detected over a thousand humanoid life signs heading her way.

“Fuckers hold a grudge,” Vaquel whispered. This was so going into her report. The Royal Navy might end up enlisting these bitches.

Vaquel climbed into her vessel and shut the door. The male was busy pondering the mysteries of a chair in the Nutrition Pod. She ignored him and went straight to navigation.

“MOK!” the male screamed as the ship took off into space. Other than that first primal scream of terror, he quieted down. Vaquel checked on him and he was busy trying to understand what the mirror was.

Vaquel took off her glassteel helmet and let out a sigh of annoyance. She was safely back in orbit, but she didn’t get the seven day orgy that she had been expecting. The exhaustion of the fight and the run was catching up to her. Damn it, she should be getting a massage from worshiping primitives!

Hands reached from behind her and cupped her breasts. The heavy cock pressed against the spacesuit covering her buttocks. Warm breath danced over her ears.

“Mok?” the male asked.

Vaquel turned around in his hands. She pressed a button on her collar and her spacesuit retracted from her body and into her boots. The male looked down at her brown breasts, her wide hips and the pink bush of hair between her thighs.

“I am going to call you, Mok,” Vaquel said. “And your first duty on board this ship is to fuck me, Mok!”

Mok might not have understood her language, but he knew what she wanted. He pushed her down to the floor of the Deep Space Probe and parted her thighs with exuberance. As he pressed the head of his cock against the lips of her sex, he noticed the jiggling of Vaquel’s breasts as she awaited penetration.

He forgot about her cunt and his mouth dived for her breasts. Vaquel cried out as his teeth sank into her tit. His hand cupped her other breast and squeezed with all the passion of a bed-slave on his first night. Vaquel squirmed as the green man went back and forth between her breasts, his mouth enjoying the taste of each brown tit.

Vaquel wanted more. She didn’t need foreplay. She needed to fuck. She reached between them and grabbed that impressive cock that she needed so badly.

Mok moaned and he lifted himself up on powerful arms. He looked like he was going to dive back down on her spit covered breasts but she tightened her grip on is cock. Slowly she guided him between her thighs and helped him take his rightful place.

He was her prize, damn it. He was hers to fuck and she wanted to fuck now.

“Yes!” Vaquel cried out as his girth slid inside her. After months of vibrators, plant dildoes, strange nebula lovers and her own hand, she was glad to finally have a real cock between her legs. She wrapped her legs tightly around him and knew she would never let him go.

Mok appeared happy too. He thrust inside her with a savage passion. There was no technique or skill; just the thrusting of an animal. He plunged his cock into her with perfect rhythm that needed no intelligence.

Vaquel shuddered and moaned. The floor was hard against her back but she didn’t care. It was a month’s journey to the next star system. There would be plenty of time to fuck in the bed, in the Hygenic Pod, in the Nutrition Pod and every other flat surface of the ship. As Mok pounded away at her cunt, Vaquel was more than happy to take it on the floor like some backwater primitive species.

“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried as she reached orgasm.

“Mok!” her green lover yelled as he kept fucking.

Vaquel had no intention of stopping him. She grabbed his chest hair and held onto him as he kept fucking. If she hurt him, it was hard to tell because he never stopped humping her.

“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried out with her second orgasm.

Mok pulled out and Vaquel nearly ripped his chest hair out. Her anger subsided when he tried to roll her over. She happily got on her knees and lifted her ass to him. The green savage re-entered her from behind. He reached around and grabbed her tits as he fucked her. His cock rammed her twice as fast as before.

Vaquel clenched her eyes in bliss. Oh the things she would teach this man. She would teach him out to eat cunt. She would show him how to slow down and fuck her ass. She would show him the joys of getting a blowjob. By the time that they reached the next star system, Vaquel planned to have broken him in and trained in every sex act that she could think of.

Hell, if he was a good student, she might even keep him instead of dumping him off at the next planet.

Mok’s hands clenched her tits painfully hard. His thrusts had slowed down but his cock was ramming into her twice as hard. He was going to climax soon and Vaquel could feel cock throbbing with power.

“Come inside me!” Vaquel demanded. “Come inside your new mistress, Mok!”

“MOK!” he cried out. His whole body shook and Vaquel felt the surge of seed a second later. Hot liquid heat flooded her cunt and Vaquel climaxed for the third time. She came so hard that she couldn’t even articulate praise to the Queen for her orgasm.

Mok slid odd her body and onto the floor. He still hung on to one of her tits though, and Vaquel crumpled up beside him. It was an awkward position in the narrow area but she didn’t care. The exhausted explorer closed her eyes in orgasmic bliss.

When she woke up an hour later, Mok’s corpse was cold beside her.

Explorer’s Log: Further scans have shown that the male of this species can only orgasm once before fatal breakdowns occur in the circulation system. This certainly explains the hostility that I encountered with the female of the species. I was literally stealing the one fuck that they could get out of him.

I am not sure how a species like this survives in the long term, but for purposes of conquering, it makes our job easy. I suspect that a team of horny Royal Navy crewmen could win these women over to the service of Queen just by jacking off and not dying. I know after my brief encounter, I sure as fuck could go for a man who has more than one charge in his pistol.

Death of the MoneyBuddy Donate Button

2011-11-21T07:00:00.001-05:00

Phone rings.

Me: Ahoy?

Lady: Hello Mr. Richards, I am hear to talk you about (Audio gets too quiet to hear)

Me: Say again? You got really quiet.

Lady: I am calling from MoneyBuddy (Not the real company name) and I was calling to (audio gets too quiet to hear)

Me: Yeah, your voice got really quiet again.

Lady: I am calling to let you know that there is a problem with your account because of the blog you have.

Internal Me Dialogue: Aha! The evil anti-porn fascists have finally noticed my little bastion of sexual freedom and are trying to shut me down!

Lady: The blog is called "Erotiterrorist", did I say that right?

Me: Sure. (Hell, I came up with the name and I don't feel that I have any right to dispute how it sounds)

Lady: Well sir, you have material relating to (audio gets too quiet to hear)

Me: Say that again.

Lady: (audio gets too quiet to hear) concerning rape.

Me: Did you say rape?

Lady: Yes, you have a review concerning rape.

Internal Me Dialogue: Are you shitting me? I recently reviewed a dirty book where I said that I was put off by a rape scene. Am I being censored for even stating that a rape existed? What kind of Orwellian nightmare is MoneyBuddy running here?

Besides, I am very anti-rape. I wouldn't have anything promoting rape, except maybe Erishella who to be honest is a bad girl but all of her victims like it so I would think that is a fuzzy line especially when it comes to the campy space opera fiction that I write.

Me: So you are saying that I have a review concerning rape?

Lady (audio gets too quiet to hear)

Me: Again, I really can't hear you.

Lady: You also have a few articles about rape.

Me: Really? (In a terribly skeptical and disdainful tone. I haven't had a good sexual freedom argument in ages)

Lady: You have an article called, Rape Dogs of Sharpbaldes Island

Me: ....

Internal Me Dialogue: Oh snap. She got me there.

Lady: Did I pronounce that right?

Me: Yep, so what does Moneybuddy want me to do?

Lady: In order to comply with our Acceptable Use Policy and avoid the limitation
of your account, you will need to remove those items from erotiterrorist.blogspot.com ...

Internal Me Dialogue: Remove a story about freaky nasty dogs that were imported as a punishment and were later turned into a protected species? Hell no, that shit was funny.

Lady: . . . that violate MoneyBuddy's Acceptable Use Policy. Example/s: rape themed blogs and reviews as well as remove MoneyBuddy as a payment option, as well as all references to MoneyBuddy, including the MoneyBuddy logo and/or shopping cart, from erotiterrorist.blogspot.com.

Me: (click, click) Okay, I just did it.

Lady: Oh. Well, we'll do a review and everything will be restored.

Me: And the money in my MoneyBuddy account is still there?

Lady: Yes, you can still access it. You just can't close the account until we unfreeze it.

Me: All righty. (Hang up)

So yeah, no more MoneyBuddy donation button but hey, I got to hear someone else say the words, "Rape Dogs of Sharpblades Island" in a very serious tone of voice, so that is a win.

Fiction: Occupy Bedroom

2011-11-16T08:43:00.000-05:00

“This might be the most horrifying place I have ever been to as a reporter.”

Holly Valentine made this observation silently to herself. She didn’t want to wake the snoring talk show host who was sleeping in his bed. According to her sources, Hudson Williams was organizing a series of embarrassing events to occur at the recent Wall Street protests. The corporate overlords who supplied the talk show host with teenage boys and opiates were tired of the protests and they assigned the host the task of destroying popular support of the protestors. In typical fashion, the talk show host had opted for the hiring of transsexuals to stage orgies during the protests.

That was too good for Holly Valentine to pass up. Unlike Mr. Williams, Holly understood that breaking into the home of somebody to steal a list of transexuals was not exactly good journalism, but if she used to that list to do research on money transactions, communications and maybe a hard hitting interview ending in an awkward confession, then not only would she expose a scandal in the making but it might also get her a nomination for a journalism award or two.

Best of all, Holly just loved linking rightwing radio personalities to transsexuals. It gave her a warm feeling right between her thighs.

What didn’t give her a warm feeling was the creepiness of the bedroom. Hudson was a famously fat man and as he got larger, he did most of his work in his bedroom. That meant Holly had to search his bedroom/office which was decorated with far too many larger than life posters of Hudson’s face. It was as if Hudson was leering at her from every wall.

Holly looked down on herself as if her choice of clothes were somehow responsible for the panoramic staring. She had forgone her usual fabulous fashion sense for a simple black jogging suit that was appropriate for her night time break in. Sadly, even a shapeless pair of jogging pants couldn’t hide her rather awesome ass. The same went for her tight black sweatshirt which seemed to cling to every curve of her impressive breasts. Holly did know that she should have tucked her vibrant red hair under an unflattering cap but she did just have a new haircut so she pulled it into an efficient if still sexy ponytail. The reporter had a hard time consciously looking bad even when trying to be unnoticeable.

She found what she needed under a stack of male underwear catalogs. Hudson Williams kept a ledger of transsexuals complete with addresses, aliases and cock sizes. The man was a shitty repeater of lies and falsehoods but he kept surprisingly accurate records of sexual acquaintances. Who knew?

As Hudson Williams snored, Holly took photographs of his ledger. When she was finished, she tucked the camera into her bra where it was safely held in place by her heavy breast. Now all she had to do was sneak out of this bedroom, out of the hallway, through the open window and then across the mansion lawn. Easy peasy.

Holly turned around and that was when she saw the security guard. He stood there silently, looking into the bedroom with the light of the hallway behind him. She couldn’t see his face but she could see enough of his powerful body to know that there was no way she could run past him. She was fucked.

A second passed and then another. Holly was confused. He should have yelled at her. He should have made some sort of threatening move. Shit, he didn’t even break out a Tazer or a gun.

The security guard stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Holly smiled as he stepped into the moonlight. At least he had a cute face. It was the ugly guards that were the worse to deal with.

The guard put a finger to his lips and pointed to the snoring Hudson.

Holly nodded. She didn’t know what the fuck was going on but she could play along.

The guard unzipped his pants. This she understood. She was not above having sex with a cute stranger for the guarantee of safety. Hell, she considered it a bonus.

Holly made a head motion towards the door. Surely he would rather get his bribe in a safer place?

The guard shook his head. He also put his hands to her shoulders and pushed her to her knees.

Holly didn’t even allow herself to sigh. She reached into his unzipped pants and pulled out his cock. It was warm and pulsing in her hand. At least he was excited. This shouldn’t take too long.

She took him into her mouth. The guard let out a low moan that sent chills down Holly’s spine. She froze with his cock in her mouth and listened for Hudson’s snores.

The talk show host kept snoring.

This time Holly did sigh and it was with relief. A gentle thrust from the cock in her mouth reminded her to get to work. She fought back a giggle and took his cock down her throat. Holly pressed her nose hard against his crotch and let him enjoy the sensation of being entirely buried in a mouth.

The guard made no noise but his hand clenched her ponytail. She took it as a compliment.

Holly was blessed with a wet mouth but in this circumstance it might lead to an unfortunately loud sucking. The clever reporter combated this by sucking very, very, very slowly. In and out with the speed of a lazy summer blowjob, Holly took her time. She countered the slowness of her lips with a rapid flicking of her tongue against his cock.

The guard thankfully understood the need for silence but he was only human. He stood silently for the most part but when Holly’s tongue licked the tip of his cock he would moan. When she sucked him down to where his balls were on her chin then he would groan like an overdue Halloween ghost. Holly tried to avoid the more sensitive parts of his cock but as the blowjob continued, she was finding more and more spots to avoid.

It didn’t help that Holly was getting aroused herself. The heat between her thighs was rapidly growing warmer by the second. The cock in her mouth was nice but what turned her on more was the idea of getting more action in a right wing talk show host’s bedroom than he currently was. As a journalist Holly knew that she should be more neutral but as a woman who really hated the pseudo journalism of talk radio, she was fucking amused with herself.

The snoring stopped. Holly stopped licking. The guard’s cock was still in her mouth and she couldn’t help herself from sucking as hard as she could.

The behemoth radio host rolled over in his bed. The bed springs groaned with the agony of overworked metal.

The snoring started again.

Holly released the suction grip that her lips had on his cock. She didn’t understand when the guard pulled out of her mouth. When he pulled her to his feet, Holly smiled with relief. Obviously the guard was finally going to get her out of the bedroom so they could finish what they started in peace.

She was wrong. The silent guard turned her around and had her face the foot of Hudson’s bed. He yanked her sweatpants down and then pulled her night camouflage panties down as well. The fearless guard was going to fuck her!

Holly wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Okay, she was horny she would admit if they were allowed to speak but she didn’t think it was a good idea to be fucking right at the moment.

The guard’s cock pressed against her cunt. Holly bent forward enough to take him into her. She shuddered as he filled her ready cunt completely.

Okay, maybe this was a good idea after all.

Hudson Williams snored in his bed. Holly looked down on him as the guard fucked her from behind. Holly grabbed the bed frame for support and she was dismayed at how much the bed rocked back and forth. It was a large bed and it had a larger man inside it but still the bed moved from their fucking.

A minute of hard fucking later and Holly didn’t care. The sound of his cock ramming inside her wet cunt was so much louder than the nearly silent sucking she had performed earlier. She was sure that the host would wake at any moment but damn, the painkillers he was addicted to must make him a heavy sleeper.

Holly could have done without the giant poster of Hudson looking down at her from the head of the bed but it couldn’t be helped. In her highly sexed state, she couldn’t help imagine that the poster was staring at her breasts bouncing inside her sweatshirt as the security guard fucked her. Hudson might not like women but his poster sure did.

The guard grabbed her ponytail and increased the pace of his fucking. The man was grunting with the passion of his thrusts. What was his deal? Was he a disgruntled employee that just wanted to fuck in his boss’s bedroom? Or maybe after years of smuggling teenage boys into the mansion, the guard was finally happy to see some pussy?

As long as his cock stayed hard, Holly didn’t fucking care. He was fucking so hard that the sound of his hips smashing into her ass was a steady series of claps applauding their fucking. Holly had to resist the urge to applaud herself.

The bed rocked as they fucked.

Hudson snored.

Holly bit down on her lip to keep from screaming as she climaxed.

The sound of thighs on ass kept clapping.

The bed springs groaned as Hudson rolled onto his back.

The guard froze as the snoring stopped.

Hudson coughed.

They waited to see if Hudson woke up. Holly clenched with her cunt around the guard’s cock. The guard’s hand pulled her ponytail harder.

Holly rolled her hips. She did this so slowly and gently that the bed didn’t even move.

The guard whimpered. Holly felt the eruption of seed inside her. Three more rolls of her hips and his cock was completely drained.

The guard released her hair and pulled out of her. He didn’t stop Holly as she pulled her panties and pants back up. He did open the door for her so she could leave the bedroom but he was discreet enough to not follow her into the hallway. Holly knew that it would be unprofessional of him as a security guard to know her escape route.

She snuck out of the mansion on shaky legs.

Dirty Books: Death is a Ruby Light

2011-11-14T13:02:00.006-05:00

"Death is a Ruby Light" by Paul Kenyon is book three of the Baroness series. Written in 1974, this spy book stars Penelope Worthington, a secret agent that is called upon by the United States when shit hits the fan. The fan in this story is that the Russians are sabotaging spy satellites and U.S. agents are dying. After breaking into the center of the Russian Space Program, Penelope discovers that hey, the Russians are having their satellites messed with too. The United States and the Russians team up to take on those crazy backwards upstarts, the Chinese.

Mixed in with this spy story of rival agencies and early 70's space programs is a shit load of fucking and killing. The book opens with Penelope enjoying a torrid affair when assassins interrupt their frequent sex. A hurricane of bullets, threats of molestation and karate moves later, and Penelope and her team of sexy men and women, engage in more combat and sex. I greatly approve.

I reviewed another retro spy book, Lady from L.U.S.T. and I made the comment that the titillation was almost cute. I am sure it was racy for its time but now it was mostly one long book of foreplay. 'Death is a Ruby Light' is the polar opposite. They don't talk about sex in this book, they fuck. They don't breeze over the action scenes, here they they shoot and kill. I am used to reading action books from this time period so I was used to the violence but it was refreshing to see that same explicit approach to the sex.

It can take a little getting used to. It is rare to see a women enjoy a nice long fuck scene and then later get electrocuted through her nipples in a very non-sexy interrogation. At one point the main character gets raped when she was unconscious and the rape happens off screen, but it was pretty shocking. The body count gets pretty high and pretty ugly.

That is probably why I enjoyed the book as much as I did. I enjoy spy books soaking in hyper-realism but failing that, I want a spy book that is insane and pure escapism. This book is certainly that. Any book that straps the heroine so she is sitting on a death laser so it will fire through her vagina and out her head, is a winner in my library.

Also unlike 'Lay Me Odds', the plot in this book is really good. The credit goes to the pacing which is just perfect for a book this size. It opens with a sex scene to introduce Penelope, but before the assassins appear, we cut to another chapter where we watch a handful of other agents get killed because they have been compromised. It was really effective at preparing the reader for understanding how fucked Penelope was about to be, as well as creating a delay for the reader who really wants to get back to her and see how she survives. Such manipulation of the reader is essential for this genre and I was greatly impressed.

I give it Five out of Five Pam Griers

GOAL REACHED!!!!!

2011-11-12T13:14:00.003-05:00

HOLY SHIT!

Thanks to generous donations, we have easily reached our goal of 50$ I am stunned, humbled and actually need to return some money because we went over.

HOLY SHIT!!!

I love you guys. Thank you for pitching in. It means the world to me.

The Farmer's Daughter Needs Your Cash

2011-11-11T09:19:00.006-05:00

A terrifically talented artists has offered to do interior illustrations for the Farmer's Daughter's Almanac at the amazingly generous price of 50$. Due to fabulous over spending at Disney, this is currently outside my meager budget. Considering that the Farmer's Daughter's Almanac will be free as a PDF and will be sold only at cost, the art budget already was at a rather small amount, like zero.

GOAL REACHED!!!!! STOP DONATING!!!!!

Note, if I do not reach the 50$ amount, I will refund everyone's money. If I come close to the 50$ amount, my own excitement will pitch in and I will pay the difference.

Fiction: The Breastinomicon Conclusion

2011-11-09T08:24:00.000-05:00

“I thought you said that Professor Ulrich’s was on a modest academic salary,” Claire Currie said.

Mr. Dillon looked around the antechamber that the maid had brought them to. A large wooden table dominated a room decorated with expensive paintings, a few leather chairs and a chandelier that may have been crafted in another century.

“I know, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “The obvious poverty almost wrenches the heart.”

The doors to the hallway opened and the maid came back in. Behind her were a Hispanic man and woman. Mr. Dillon growled and Claire felt the hairs on her neck stand up.

“The Professor will see both of you shortly,” the maid said as she left the room.

“Sonia Garcia,” Mr. Dillon said. His voice was neutral and devoid of emotion. “Chief Procurer for the Vargas Foundation.”

The woman smiled. She was bearing more cleavage than Claire thought was structurally possible for a blouse. Thick black hair was held back by a silver headband. As Claire studied her, she noticed that the woman’s smile never reached her cold eyes.

“Oliver Dillon, head librarian for that antique collection of trivial smut called the Collette-Ashbee Collection,” Sonia said.

Mr. Dillon turned to Claire. “You may not have heard of the Vargas Foundation as they were only founded within the last fifty years. Their mission is to collect erotic books, films, magazines, and novelty items of an erotic nature.”

Sonia frowned. “What Oliver meant to say was that unlike the non-discriminating Ashbee-Collette collection which buys every single book every written no matter how shitty it is, the Vargas Foundation only adds the most prestigious and highest quality works to their collection for the future enrichment of mankind.”

“Oh yes,” Mr. Dillon said. “I forgot that the Vargas Foundation with their mere decades of existence have already decided which works of erotica will merit study in the future. I don’t knob why I keep forgetting about their clairvoyant approach to erotica.”

“This is my assistant, Manuel Ortez,” Sonia said as if she didn’t hear Mr. Dillon. “He is a superb researcher and although at least half your age, Oliver, he already posses a knack for identifying forgeries that is uncanny.”

The young man nodded towards Mr. Dillon and Claire. “Pleased to meet you,” he said in accented English.

“This is my assistant, Claire Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “Despite her tendency to confuse the names of Italian authors, she has a slightly better than average skill when it comes to spine damage analysis.”

Sonia was silent for a moment as she tried to understand if Mr. Dillon was insulting his own assistant or wildly praising her skills. Claire knew him well enough to know that it was the latter.

“It is nice to make your acquaintance, Ms. Garcia,” Claire said. She offered her hand to Sonia. The woman did not take it. Claire put her hand down and decided that she would hate this bitch too.

“Ah, you have an assistant from Britain?” Sonia said. “Her accent will give your library the appearance of intelligence that has been lacking.”

“I was going to make a witty retort but I realized that your lack of a proper education would make it difficult for you to understand my insult,” Mr. Dillon said.

“The only thing I do not understand is why he invited your sad little Collection here today,” Sonia said. “The Vargas Foundation will pay whatever it takes to secure the Breastinomicon.”

“Perhaps he wishes you here to see how a real collector of rare books handles priceless merchandise,” Mr. Dillon said. “He is a professor after all. They do love teaching the ignorant.”

“Oh please,” Sonia said. “When we purchase the Breastinomicon, we will have every page scanned and uploaded to our database. The book will be put away in a special vacuum vault, never to be touched by human hands again while the contents will be enjoyed by future students of the Vargas Foundation. This is far superior to being locked away at whatever shelf the owners of the Collette-Ashbee Collection use for their hoarded books.”

“Hoarding is such a strange word to use,” Mr. Dillon said. “We loan our books all across the world to colleges and established learning centers of erotica. We collect and disseminate without prejudice for who knows what books of today will be appreciated tomorrow?”

Before Sonia could respond, the doors to the antechamber opened. It was the maid.

“Professor Ulrich will see you now,” the maid said. “Only the senior members please. He has no time to waste with subordinates today.”

Mr. Dillon turned to Claire and leaned in close. He spoke in a whisper.

“Ms. Currie, I want you to seduce Mr. Ortez and engage in messy filthy sex. In other words, just indulge your usual appetites.”

Claire blinked. “Mr. Dillon? I think I misheard you.”

“Ms. Currie,” he said testily. “I don’t care how you do it, but you will get this man to engage in carnal activities. The honor of the Collection is at stake!”

“Behave yourself while I am gone, Manuel,” Sonia said. “This won’t take long to convince Professor Ulrich to hand over the Breastinomicon to the Vargas Foundation.”

“Only if he is suffering from a brain tumor,” Mr. Dillon said.

“This way,” the maid said.

Claire watched as Mr. Dillon and Ms. Garcia left the room. The doors closed and Claire was alone with Manuel. The young man smiled and held out his hand.

“I apologize for Senora Garcia’s behavior,” he said. “She has a long standing grudge with Senor Dillon. I have been hearing about it all morning.”

“That is very kind of you,” Claire said. She shook his hand. “I don’t know about you, but I am extremely hot.”

Before he could respond, Claire unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. Realizing that she was wearing the bust crushing black bra, she undid a few more buttons.

“Senora Currie,” Manuel said. “You may not be aware that I can see your la pecha.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I am okay with that,” Claire responded. “We are all erotica librarians, aren’t we? I am sure that we have both seen far more explicit things than my bra?”

Manuel nodded. “Yes. Senora Garcia makes me look at erotica all day long and then masturbate once a morning to clear my mind.”

“Oh, that sounds interesting,” Claire said as she pulled her shirt off. “Tell me, do you and Ms. Garcia fuck? Mr. Dillon fucks me all the time because he feels it is necessary to ease any erotic pressure we may build during the day.”

Manuel swallowed hard. “Senora Garcia has me service her quite often, with my mouth and my fingers. She refuses to aid my climax however as she says that it would not be professional.”

“Aww, that is too bad,” Claire said. “Excuse me one moment, this bra is just too confining.”

Claire reached behind her and unfastened the bra. She let out a sigh of relief that was did not involve any acting on her part. The bra fell away and Claire lifted her heavy breasts and gave them a good squeeze.

“That is much better,” Claire said. “I really like to let them breathe, you know?”

Manuel stared at her breasts. They seemed to have the same calming effect on Manuel that they did on Mr. Dillon.

“I noticed that Ms. Garcia has very impressive breasts,” Claire said. “Does she let you touch them?”

“No,” Manuel said.

“Would you like to touch mine?” Claire said.

Manuel looked to the doors of the antechamber. Claire walked closer to him and grabbed his hand. Before he could come up with an excuse not to, she placed his hand on her right tit.

“Madre dios,” he whispered. His fingers were ever so gentle as he squeezed.

“Do they feel nice?” Claire asked.

“Si,” Manuel said. His eyes were dreamy as he touched her tit.

“Well, they taste even better,” she said.

Manuel looked at her and Claire took the lead again. She gently pulled his head to her breast. His mouth knew what to do. He carefully took her nipples between his lips and sucked as gently as a new lover.

Images of Mr. Dillon’s dirty story filled Claire’s mind. She imagined them in a hotel hallway and Manuel was some random passerby. She was already wet from the indecency of their act in someone else’s home but now she was rubbing her thighs together with need.

“It isn’t easy being an assistant to a demanding boss, is it, Manuel?” Claire asked.

Manuel said no but it was hard to hear because he wasn’t letting her nipple out of his mouth.

“At least Mr. Dillon fucks me,” Claire said. “I can not imagine how difficult it must be for you to catalog and purchase erotica all day and then only have the comfort of your hand. You poor, poor, man.”

Manuel made a sound of acknowledgement from her cleavage.

“I want to do something for you, Manuel,” Claire said. “As a fellow librarian you understand? I want to give you your sexual fantasy. Tell me what you want and I will do it right here.”

“Right now?” Manuel said. He stood up and fear was clear on his face. “What if the others return?”

“Really, Manuel?” Claire said. “You really think my boss and your boss can finish insulting each other in less than an hour, much less conduct any business?”

Manuel smiled. He was adorably cute.

“Get on this table,” he said. “On your back with your head off the table. I want to fuck your mouth.”

“I like this,” Claire said and it was true. She was soaked between her legs. So often she had been used for Mr. Dillon’s pleasure, it was nice to be used for the pleasure of another assistant like herself.

She hopped on the table and spun around. Claire leaned back and her shoulders rested on the edge of the table. Her head went further until she was looking at Manuel upside down.

Manuel already had his cock out. He had strange bright yellow boxers and Claire wondered if he too had a dress code. Thoughts of his clothes vanished as she saw the thick girth of his cock. He was hard and ready to plunge into her mouth.

Claire opened her lips just in time as his cock aimed for her mouth. He came in too fast and too eager but Claire took him all the same. She recognized his need and she wanted to help him. Her mouth closed around his cock and her cheeks collapsed as she sucked.

Manuel babbled a string of Spanish words that Claire didn’t understand. She kept sucking.

She felt his hands on her tits. He had one in each hand and his fingers squeezed her soft flesh. He tried to get as much of her breasts as possible into his hands and although he would never succeed, Claire was enjoying the trying.

Claire reached with her hands and pulled his ass to her. She was impressed by how fit his ass was and she only wished that she was grabbing it while he fucked her. Oh well. This was his fantasy and Claire and her mouth was happy to oblige. She pulled him deeper down her throat until his balls were pressed against her face.

Manuel pinched her nipples and Claire moaned. After all his gentle care, she was unprepared when he twisted her nipples. Beautiful pain rippled through each breast, traveled her body and collided between her thighs. She spread her legs in need as he pinched harder.

“Oh, how I wish I could do this to Senora Garcia,” Manuel said.

Claire moaned at the thought. It didn’t bother her that she was a proxy for his wicked boss. If anything, she was happy to help.

She let go of his ass and reached for her skirt. Nimble fingers pulled her skirt up and pulled her thong to the side. Claire plunged her fingers into her sex as Manuel took advantage of her mouth and breasts.

Claire’s sex was drenched with desire. Her fingers glided in and stroked furiously. Perhaps Mr. Dillon was right; maybe she did have a hungry cunt.

Manuel pulled his cock from her mouth. Claire groaned with frustration. Was he regretting what he was doing? Before she could ask, he lifted his balls and dropped them on Claire’s mouth. She took his balls and sucked on them as he stroked his cock.

“Si, si, si,” Manuel moaned as she stroked faster.

Claire stroked herself in time with his hand. His balls tasted of sweat but she sucked and licked with all of her talent. She had the entirety of his balls between her lips and she was using the utmost care with the treasures that he entrusted her with.

Meanwhile, Mr. Dillon was half listening to Ms. Garcia’s pitch to Professor Ulrich. He supposed that he should be paying more attention to what she was saying just so that the Collection could learn the latest about the Vargas Foundation but quite frankly, he was too mesmerized by how far gone Professor Ulrich had become.

The three of them were sitting in his office except that Professor Ulrich was seated behind a glass wall. The elderly professor was breathing from an oxygen mask even though Mr. Dillon was sure that Ulrich was in excellent health. Mr. Dillon was also sure that the professor did not need to wear the latex gloves as he sat at his desk nor did the professor need to check his temperature every two minutes.

Professor Ulrich was obviously stark raving mad. Mr. Dillon found comfort in that. It would explain how the old fart could possibly find fault with Mr. Dillon in the past. It also made Professor Ulrich far easier to manipulate.

“If I may interrupt my inferior colleague for a moment,” Mr. Dillon said. “I really don’t think the elaborate procedures that the Vargas Foundation implements are all that important.”

Ms. Garcia frowned. The beautiful woman was obviously not used to being interrupted.

“You may not find our methods interesting,” Ms. Garcia said. “But I am sure that Professor Ulrich will want to know that his Breastinomicon is going to a state of the art home.”

“It does sound very impressive,” Professor Ulrich said with the thermometer still in his mouth.

“Well, sure,” Mr. Dillon said. “Technology is wonderful but it is only good as the people who apply the technology and I am sure, Professor, that you will agree that if one is lax in their vigilance, all sorts of bad things could happen. A book could get wet, rot and develop all sorts of germs.”

Professor Ulrich gasped in terror.

“This is ridiculous,” Ms. Garcia said. “If you are trying to insinuate that a single member of the Vargas Foundation has less than perfect behavior, then you are simply delusional.”

“So I assume that you instructed your Mr. Ortez to be on his best professional manners for this trip?” Mr. Dillon asked.

Ms. Garcia tilted her head up at a defiant angle. “Of course.”

“Professor Ulrich, if you will turn on your hidden camera for antechamber, you will see that my assistant, whom is acting on my instructions, will be performing a deviant act with Mr. Ortez.”

“Uh, what makes you think I have a hidden camera?” Professor Ulrich.

“Professor, I clearly remember on my third visit here that you berated me for biting a fingernail. Considering that I only did that in the antechamber, I can only assume that you have a camera.”

“Hrm,” Professor Ulrich said. He pressed a button on his desk and one of the paintings slid away to reveal a video screen.

Ms. Garcia gasped at the sight that appeared. Ms. Currie was on the table, her blouse missing and her breasts exposed for Mr. Ortez’s groping. Even more shocking was Mr. Ortez’s balls were sitting inside Ms. Currie’s mouth as he stroked himself furiously.

The thermometer dropped from Professor Ulrich’s mouth.

“Now, shall we discuss how much I should write the check for?” Mr. Dillon asked.

Back in the antechamber, Claire was stroking passionately between her legs. She couldn’t see anything except Manuel’s ass as she licked his balls. Claire didn’t need to see anything. She could hear his moans and feel the fury of his hand pumping his cock. She had become his ultimate fantasy and Claire relished her role.

Even more importantly, she was doing exactly what Mr. Dillon has asked of her. She didn’t know what his plan was but she had trust in him. Somehow this would make getting the Breastinomicon and that was vital for the library. Most of all, it was important to Mr. Dillon and she could only imagine the gratitude he might show her.

Hell, he might even say something nice.

The thought of his praise enflamed her sex. She planted her heels on the table and lifted her pelvis as she stroked faster. Her tongue licked, licked and licked Manuel’s smooth balls.

Claire’s climax sent tremors from her sex, up her stomach, across her sensitive nipples and out through her moaning lips around Manuel’s balls.

Manuel came. He shook as he erupted. Claire felt a stream of seed land across her chest, followed by a second stream and then a third. The rest of the seed slid down his cock and onto her waiting lips.

The doors flew open. “Manuel!” Ms. Garcia yelled. What she said next was just a long tirade of Spanish but it was certainly angry.

Manuel popped his balls out of Claire’s mouth and responded in Spanish. Instead of meek servitude, there was quite a bit of hostility in Manuel’s response. Claire wasn’t sure if the poor man was finally venting his frustrations or if Spanish was just an angry sounding language.

Mr. Dillon came into the room. He was carrying a briefcase that appeared to have some sort of temperature gauge.

“Come along, Ms. Currie,” he said. “We need to get back to the hotel and prepare the Breastinomicon for shipping.”

Claire grabbed her shirt and bra. She followed Mr. Dillon out of the room while Ms. Garcia and Mr. Ortez continued to yell at each other. Outside the room, the maid waited with a bucket of cleaning alcohol and a UV light.

Mr. Dillon paused in the hallway for Claire to put her blouse back on before they stepped outside. Claire’s dark body was marked with drying white seed. Claire was still feeling giddy from the orgasm so she asked an improper question.

“Did I do a good job, sir?” she asked.

Mr. Dillon thought about it. “You did . . . well.”

Claire nearly came a third time that day.

Deadlines, Interviews and Progress Reports with a Side of Breasts

2011-11-07T08:37:00.004-05:00

The deadline for the Farmer's Daughter's Almanac was set for December 1st and holy crap, that is just around the corner. I will attempt to take all of the random histories, oral sex tips, recipes, cryptid sex articles and Cucumber Queen information and put it into something slightly more coherent. If you have a recipe or an article you would like to contribute, just drop me an email and I'll hook you up.

In other news, I talked about myself a lot at Extreme Writing Now. My favorite part was when I speculated about being at a teenage girl's seance. I beleive you can listen to my interview directly here. I of course will avoid listening to myself and will take your word for it on how I sound.

Work on the Violatrix continues and should be ready for publication in December. That way you can get your science fiction S/M killer crew from hell erotica just in time for Christmas presents!

Fiction: The Breastinomicon Part One

2011-11-02T08:26:00.001-05:00

Claire Currie stood ready for inspection. She sucked in her stomach to make her already generous brown breasts strain against her white button shirt. The six inch heels forced her ass to push at a lovely angle against the short black miniskirt of her uniform. Her legs were already a deep shade of brown but the uniform required the black stockings anyway on her legs. To complete her outfit, her black hair was braided and tucked behind her head. Black glasses framed eyes that were eager to please.

“Unacceptable,” Mr. Dillon said. He shook his head and closed his eyes.

“Sir?” Claire said carefully. Mr. Dillon was her boss and his standards were often impossible to achieve. Considering that they were librarians for the exclusive Collette-Ashbee collection, the world’s greatest collection of written erotica, Claire had come to accept that the standards of the collection were as rare to achieve as the books they collect.

“Your breasts,” Mr. Dillon said. He placed one hand on her right breast and squeezed. “They are much too large today.”

Claire whimpered as his fingers painfully squeezed her breast. She also shivered a little for Mr. Dillon was not only a demanding boss and a cruel inflictor of punishments; but he was also quite attractive. His brown hair was cut to his head with a military shortness. Worry lines crossed his face like cracks in a leather bound book. It was the eyes that always did her in. His brown eyes were always intense; ready to correct, judge and inflict punishment at a moment’s notice.

“Can’t you make them smaller somehow?” Mr. Dillon said. “I worry that Professor Ulrich will think you were hired purely for your mammaries instead of a slightly better than average skill with handling rare books.”

Claire forced herself from responding to his comment. Most people would think he was insulting her book handling skills but Claire recognized it as a compliment.

“I do have a bra that is more, constrictive,” Claire said. “The only problem is that the bra is white and today you had scheduled me to wear a cherry red bra with matching thong.

Mr. Dillon released her breast and waved his hand in the air. “Fuck the dress code, woman! Put on whatever it takes to get those tits under control.”

Claire was taken back. In the years that she had worked for Mr. Dillon, the dress code for her lingerie was the most vigorously enforced rule. She lost count of the endless whippings with his belt that she had endured for dress code infractions. For Mr. Dillon to be dismissing the code meant that he was very tense indeed.

“Sir, you appear to be stressed regarding meeting Professor Ulrich today,” Claire said. To help his nerves, Claire unfastened the buttons on her shirt very slowly. Experience had taught her that the sight of her breasts had a calming effect on her boss. As Mr. Dillon’s assistant, it was Claire’s duty to do whatever it took to assuage his nerves.

“I have a right to be nervous,” Mr. Dillon said. He was staring at the slow reveal of her dark breasts. “Professor Ulrich collects rare erotica but because he is a lowly member of academia, he often has to sell pieces of his collection in order to finance new acquisitions.”

Claire removed her shirt and took her time folding it. It was a waste of time to fold a shirt that she planned to put right back on, but Mr. Dillon did so enjoy watching her breasts jiggle within her bra as she moved.

“Sounds to me like it is the Professor who should be nervous,” Claire said. “After all, he needs the money from us.”

She reached behind her and undid the clasp on her bra. Mr. Dillon watched as the red fabric peeled away from her skin. Sadly, the worry lines on his forehead only deepened.

“You would think, Ms. Currie,” he said. “But Professor Ulrich is that insufferable type of book collector who thinks that only he is qualified to care for erotic books and everyone else is a casual amateur who uses cheese for bookmarks and leaves books outside in the rain. Can you imagine such arrogance?”

“It is beyond my comprehension,” Claire said. Inwardly, she remembered all too well the seven inch dildo Mr. Dillon made her carry in her ass because she used the wrong cloth to clean a hardback book. Mr. Dillon did not react well to ill timed comparisons.

Claire picked up the white bra. It was a cruel monster that crushed and concealed her breasts. She only hoped Mr. Dillon understood how uncomfortable it would be for her to wear. That was a silly hope of course. All he cared about was watching her slide the bra over her plump breasts.

“Professor Ulrich has offered to sell the Ashbee-Collette Collection a total of eleven books,” Mr. Dillon said when Claire had clasped the bra. “Six of the books he had withdrawn from selling because he found fault with something done by the Librarian sent to collect the book. With three out of these six, it was a fault he found with my predecessor, Ms. Wei. With the other three, it was something he found fault with myself. I have no interest in committing a fourth offense.”

“He sounds like a complete loon,” Claire said. “How rare is the book he has now?” Claire began to button her shirt, starting from the bottom up. The white bra didn’t give her much cleavage but she hoped to tease out whatever cleavage she had left. Poor Mr. Dillon needed all that he could get.

“Today he is willing to part with the Breastinomicon,” Mr. Dillon said.

Claire froze in the process of buttoning. “The Breastinomicon? I thought it was just an urban legend.”

Mr. Dillon shook his head. “It was until a mad Frenchman decided to create a version. I have heard that it is quite impressive. Over one thousand pages of endless breast descriptions; it is written in Arabic and Latin with a splattering of a new language designed purely to describe breasts. It also contains fragments of poems and verse from older works that were equally obsessed with breasts. It is a book created by a mad man but also one hell of a breast lover. The Collette-Ashbee Collection must have this book.

“I am sure that you have nothing to worry about, sir,” Claire said. She finished the top button on her shirt and put her hands back behind her. “What could Professor Ulrich possibly find at fault with us?”

Mr. Dillon pursed his lips. He looked her over from head to toe. “You do appear much more presentable, Ms. Currie.”

Claire allowed herself a tiny smile.

“No, your insatiable sex mania might still be our undoing,” Mr. Dillon corrected himself. “You have a tendency of getting into sexual hijinks and this would not be the correct time.”

“I get into sexual hijinks?” Claire asked. A little bit of disbelief had slipped into her usual subservient tone.

“Don’t try to deny it, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “You are a modestly adequate librarian but your propensity towards sexual deviancy is sometimes a distraction.”

“Like the time you suggest that I stroke myself every five minutes in order to appreciate proper time management?” Claire asked.

“I may have suggested it, but you were the only who benefited from the practice,” Mr. Dillon said.

“What about the time that you had me give you a handjob while we were on the plane to this city?” Claire said.

“I merely required your assistance in personal release,” Mr. Dillon said. “You were the one that coated your fingers with the juices from your cunt in order to aid lubrication.”

“And so I assume it was my sexual hijinks that caused us to act out all twelve sexual positions in that Greek book we found yesterday?”

“Quite,” Mr. Dillon said. “I was more than willing to only do the first nine but you were the one who assured me that your anus could handle the other three positions.”

“I respectfully disagree, Mr. Dillon, but I will defer to your superior judgment when it comes to sexual deviancy.

“As well you should, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “Now lift your skirt. We must make sure that your greedy cunt does not ruin our chances at making a good impression.”

Claire did as she was told. She pulled her skirt up past her stockings and past her thighs to reveal her cherry red thong. A spot of dampness was clearly visible on her thong and Claire wondered if perhaps Mr. Dillon was correct in his assessment.

Mr. Dillon reached for her thong. He pulled it aside and ran his fingers over the thick bush of pubic hair that was part of her required uniform. Mr. Dillon could be old fashioned when it came to a woman’s pussy.

“I bet if I slipped two fingers into you right now, you would be wet,” Mr. Dillon said.

“You may be ri-oh yes!”

Claire shivered as Mr. Dillon’s fingers penetrated her. No foreplay or preparation for Mr. Dillon. When he set his mind to something, he goes right in.

“This is what I am talking about,” Mr. Dillon said. His fingers pumped at an unnatural speed within her. “You are as wet as a typical stewardess in a 60’s erotica novel.”

“Ahhh,” Claire said. She was having difficulty with forming complex thoughts. Mr. Dillon’s fingers were brusque and efficient and Claire was enjoying the thoughtless violation.

“Hurry up and climax, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “I do not have all day to finger fuck you. We have an appointment to keep.”

“Yes, sir,” Claire said. She braced her legs as she tottered on her heels. Mr. Dillon’s fingers were thrusting with relentless speed.

Mr. Dillon sighed. “You obviously need mental stimulation to finish properly.” He said this as if this was a personal defect of Claire’s.

“It may help,” Claire said between moans.

“I imagine a nymphomaniac slut like yourself would rather that I took you into the hotel hallway and let you expose your hungry cunt to every one,” Mr. Dillon said. “You would stand there happily with your skirt up and allow any one to touch you. Your greedy sex would take their fingers, their cocks and even their mouths without a second’s hesitation.”

Claire trembled and tried to stay on her heels.

“You would be available to anyone but I imagine that you would enjoy that,” Mr. Dillon said as his fingers continued to fuck her wet sex. “Your cunt would be the plaything of other hotel guests, the bellhops and even the maids. I bet you would love to have some young maid kneeling between your legs and lapping away at your sex, you shameless hussy.”

Claire shuddered. Her hands clenched her skirt. She moved her hips to match the movements of his fingers.

“But even with your sex exposed, there will always be one who will want more,” Mr. Dillon said. “Some horny older man will rip open your blouse and play with your tits. You shouldn’t let them but I know you. You wouldn’t say a word as the man pulls one of your lovely dark tits out of your bra and sinks his teeth around your nipple.

Claire cried out as her orgasm exploded between her thighs. Mr. Dillon’s fingers stroked deeper until every last shudder of pleasure was worked out of her body. She was amazed that she was still on her feet.

The fingers pulled out of her and a second later was at her lips. Claire opened her mouth and tasted herself on Mr. Dillon’s fingers. She sucked hard, enjoying to mixture of her juices and his skin.

“Now be sure to clean my fingers completely,” Mr. Dillon said. “We can’t be visiting Professor Ulrich with fingers smelling of your cunt.”

Claire’s mouth did a very thorough job.

Bag of Treats

2011-10-31T07:00:00.001-05:00

Well hello. What wonderful costumes some of you are wearing. I especially like the guy dressed as a desperate masturbator. The utility belt filled with hand lotion is a nice touch.

My name is Scarlett Deadhansson and I was created in a laboratory by the eerie Trixie Treats as part of some sort of devious exchange program. I don't know all the details. My duties are to host Halloween today on the blog while Shon is busy shooting zombies and fighting the demon possessed eye of a Scotsman.

So let's see what treats I have for you, shall we?

First up is a classic Hammer film, "Blood of the Mummy". A very hot mummy chick is found by a group of British explorers in perfect physical condition and also bleeding from a missing hand despite being interred hundreds of years ago. They of course take her back to Britain. Terror and fabulous clothes ensue. I have it on good authority that the breasts of the lead actress, Valerie Leon, are worth watching the film alone.

I give it five twitching hands out of five.

Next up is a lovely television show that will hopefully not be cancelled like a murder in the night. "American Horror Story" is about an unhappy couple that really should have divorced moving into a house filled with more ghosts than a ghost writer's convention. Most horror stories showcase a family that threatens to disintegrate under the pressure of supernatural horror. The man in this show cheats on his wife and she fucking cuts his ass BEFORE they ever reach the house. Also, not many ghost stories has a rubber gimp. The marriage explodes in slow motion before your eyes while various ghosts, haunts and one terribly sexy maid ghost try to hurry thing along. Come for the sexy main and stay for the high number of strong female characters.

I give it five creepy rubber men out of five.

As a final treat, I shall share with you some music. Ghoultown is a band that some have called gothabilly and but I prefer to call them just plain fun. They sing about ghost stories with a western theme. Any of their songs would make for a great b-movie on a late night show. They can also actually play their instruments with a talent that matches their weirdness and let me tell you, that is pretty fucking rare. Any album is good but you might like 'Mistress of the Dark' the best. Listen to it on the video below.

I give them five howling banshees out of five.

That is all the treats I have for now. Some of you look a little paler than when we started. Some of you look a bit more flushed than you did before. I am no doctor but I was once dead, so I can safely advise you to go see a doctor. Preferably one that operates out of an old spooky mansion and wears a corset.

Until next year, or maybe sooner. Yes, I am talking about you.

Fiction: The Punishment of Trixie Treats

2011-10-26T08:00:00.001-05:00

Trixie Treats smiled for the camera. She also held in her breath so that her green makeup covered cleavage would push as tightly as possible against the almost transparent white teddy that was part of her costume. Black lipstick lips smiled cruelly for the viewers at home.

“And that concludes tonights classless, I mean, classy movie, ‘Frankenstein versus the Vampires’. You might have fallen asleep during that piece of schlock but don’t worry, it was impossible to sleep through any good parts as there weren’t any.”

A howling wolf sounded came from the sound effects guy. Trixie sighed wistfully as if she had just been entered by a thick cock.

“The calling of the werewolf means that our time is up, dear ghouls,” Trixie said. “I must retire to my crypt and wait out the sun all alone in my coffin. If only one or maybe a few of you ghouls could come with me to keep me company. Until next week, on Trixie’s Movie Night Treats”

“And cut!” the director said. “Great job, Trixie! If anyone watches this episode, they might actually like the movie.”

Trixie snorted. “More likely that they rubbed one out during my introduction and went to bed. I’m going to wash this green shit off.”

The top-heavy horror hostess tottered over to her changing room. The white thong rode up her green ass like it always did. The stage crew pretended to not check out her ass but she knew that they were; them and everyone else in the late night Tucson area.

Trixie opened her changing room door and recoiled from the smell. It was the smell of corpses, blood and ancient horrors.

“Fuck, it smells like stagehands in here!” Trixie said.

Rough hands reached from the darkness and dragged her into the room. Trixie tried to scream but someone pressed what tasted like old bandages to her mouth. Trixie bit down on the cloth until she felt the yielding flesh of a hand.

“Ramses’ Beard! The bitch bit me!” a voice cried out.

“Igor, the lights!” another voice yelled.

The lights came on. Trixie gasped at the huge crowd that had surrounded her. The men were dressed up as monsters. There was a giant Frankenstein, a fangy Dracula, a few decomposing zombies, a pointy-eared Devil, a dripping Creature from a lagoon, some silver robots, a sinister clown and inexplicably, a giant banana with arms.

Trixie was quick to identify the weird part of this experience. “How the fuck did all of you fit inside my changing room? Usually this place is so small that I have to open a window if I want to take my tits out of my bra.”

“Vilence, varlot!” the Dracula said. Blood dripped from his fangs. “Ve are in a mavical vimbo beveen vime and vace.”

“What to the fuck now?” Trixie said. “Anyone speak venglish, I mean English?”

“I will translate,” the Devil said. “You are in a magical limbo between time and space. Specifically, you are in the crossroads of Horror and Fear, where monsters dwell in the subconscious.”

“SUBCONCIOUS!” Frankenstein yelled.

“Yeah, good boy,” Trixie said to Frankenstein. “Okay, nice prank boys. A little groppy with the hands but don’t worry, I won’t press charges for this little monster squad gangbang joke.”

Trixie kicked off her heels and stood up. “But I do want to know where you got these costumes. They are a ton better than our usual costumes. Like this zombie, I swear his head is about to fall off.”

Trixie pulled at the zombie’s face and the head fell off. Trixie looked in horror as the head rolled her feet. It looked up at her at her green breasts. The zombie smiled and licked his lips.

“Oh fuck,” Trixie said.

“You ave vocked us for the vast vime!” the Dracula yelled.

“Fucked who?” Trixie said.

“He meant that you mock us,” The Devil said. “Our movies used to excite the imagination and primal fears of mankind. We come to life based on the fears and horrors of humanity. It is a good life to exist in nightmares. You never die and the screams of your dreamers sustain you like the finest wine.”

One of the robots put their hand on Trixie’s right breast. She slapped it away. “If it is such a sweet gig, why bother me?”

“YOU FUCKED IT!” Frankenstein said.

“As my stitched friend said,” the Devil said. “Your mocking of our movies has chipped away at our place in the fears of mankind. We are becoming jokes and things of amusement. Now we are appearing in the dreams of children and pop culture blog writers.”

Trixie shrugged. “Sucks to be you,” she said.

“Vegin the vunishment!” the Dracula said.

The Frankenstein grabbed Trixie’s hair with his unforgiving grip. The Robots grabbed her hands and tied them behind her back. The Frankenstein pulled her towards a wooden contraption that looked suspiciously like a guillotine!

“Holy shit!” Trixie said. “You old farts are going to cut off my head because of a shitty late night movie show?”

The monsters laughed. They kept laughing as the Frankenstein picked Trixie up and dropped her on the guillotine so that her stomach was in the half circle depression. Trixie screamed as the bar fell across her back.

“Don’t cut me in half!” Trixie yelled.

Groans of disgust came from the monsters. “We are not your modern horrors with their drills and splatter shields,” spoke the Devil. “We believe in ironic justice and deserving victims.”

“ASS!” The Frankenstein said.

“Yes, and a little tits and ass,” the Devil said. “Your punishment shall fit your crime! We shall humiliate and cause to fear us once more!”

“Baby, I work for a late night television show, there isn’t much you can do to embarrass me,” Trixie said.

The monsters gathered around her ass. Trixie waited for them to pull her thong down but they didn’t. She did feel a large cold hand press against her ass. Considering how large and round Trixie’s ass was, she knew that only Frankenstein had a hand big enough to cup her ass like that.

“Vunish her!” Dracula screeched.

The hand pulled away and then returned to her ass with amazing force.

WHAM! The sound for Frankenstein’s hand impacting into her ass echoed throughout all of time and space.

Son of a bitch!” Trixie yelled. Her scream also echoed through time and space.

The Frankenstein spanked her. His heavy powerful hands shook her with every slap. The sheer size of his hand meant that every slap struck the entirety of her buttock.

Trixie kicked and screamed but the wooden stocks held her tight. The monsters mocked her efforts to escape and delighted in her shrieks. Every swing of Frankenstein’s hand caused her large breasts to jiggle and shake. In just a few slaps, she had fallen completely out of her baby doll.

“Even her nipples are greeeeeen,” said the Creature. He looked like he was in love.

“Hey, you got to commit to the costume,” Trixie said between wails of pain.

Her ass stung from the supernatural abuse and it didn’t look like Frankenstein was stopping any time soon. Trixie’s ass burned worse than any witch has ever suffered. She looked around desperately for a solution but all she saw was the Creature’s adoring gilly face.

“Hey Creature, OW OW OW! Let me out of here and I’ll let you rub your gills all over my tits!” Trixie said.

The Creature shook his head. “And lose a turn spanking your ass? I don’t think so.”

Frankenstein stopped spanking her and Trixie let out a sigh of relief. It was a short lived respite. It was the Dracula’s turn and whatever he lacked in enunciation he certainly compensated with the accuracy of his hand.

When the Dracula was through spanking her ass, the cold metallic hands of one of the robots took his place. The WHACK WHACK WHACK of the metal hand turned Trixie’s ass to fire.

Next were the aquatic creature and his peculiar webbed hands. After that, it was the solid clothed thumps of the Mummy’s hand. Another robot took his turn with his metal hands and then after him was the furry paw of a Werewolf. The clown had his turn and every time his hand met her ass, a small horn would honk. Even the Banana spanked her although Trixie still didn’t know what the fuck that was all about.

The Devil was the last one to spank her. His hand literally burned with the fires of Hell although Trixie wasn’t sure if it was hellfire she felt or just how sensitive her ass had become.

After a brutal period of spanking, the Devil walked around to Trixie’s front. He pulled her head up by her hair to face him. Tears had streaked down her face and left white trails in the green makeup. It didn’t stop him from taking a moment to admire her bare breasts.

“Your humiliation is almost complete,” the Devil said. “We have had our way with your ass and taught you the meaning of fear.” He never made eye contact with her as he kept staring at her breasts.

“And the meaning of a sore ass,” Trixie said. Her voice was hoarse from all of her screaming.

“Are you ready for the surprise ending?” The Devil said.

Trixie looked up at the Devil. “It was all a dream?”

The Monsters laughed. The Devil reached for her tits with his clawed hands. Trixie screamed as her large green tits were mauled by sharp nails and greedy fingers.

“No,” the Devil said. “Now we are going to spank the other half of you.”

Trixie screamed as the Devil’s hand slapped her tits. She screamed again as she saw the Monsters form a line behind the Devil. As big as her ass was, her tits were so much fucking bigger. This was going to be a lot of stinging slapping hurt.

She was definitely going to think twice before ever mocking old movie monsters again. Trixie was still going to mock them because hey, she needs a paycheck, but she would at least think twice.

Vacationus Interruptus

2011-10-21T07:37:00.003-05:00

This Sunday I shall be traveling to Disney World and staying at one of their resort hotels. I haven't read the brochure yet, but my expectation is that Jasmine will massage my feet while Belle reads me a night time story. I shall return on Thursday but have no fear! Through the magic of auto updating, a new story will post on Wednesday! Unless I fuck it up.

In the meantime, I was interviewed over at the Liquid Whispers blog and my Prisoner of the Wizard's harem was reviewed. Go to those interview and see me talk about myself more than I do here. Go to the review and get convinced on why you should really read Prisoner of the Wizard's Harem.

I think I had more I wanted to say but really all I can think about it going to Disney and moving into the Haunted Mansion. I will see you next week.

Fiction: The Diamond Lake Sucker

2011-10-19T08:38:00.001-05:00

“Alex, do you read me?”

“Loud and fucking clear, Pam. I can’t see a damn thing out here.”

“You don’t need to see anything. The shoulder camera is working great and I can see the whole lake on night vision.”

“Awesome. If you see that ghost who is going to suck off my face, let me know.”

“Fuck Alex, you never pay attention to any of the research we do on this show, do you?”

“Shit, no. I’m the comic relief. I wouldn’t’ even fucking be out here on this lake tonight if Victor hadn’t gotten sick. Dumb ass mother fucker.”

“You got that right. I mean, who eats something called Trout Balls? I don’t care if it is a local delicacy.”

“Who eats something has balls in the title? Other than you, Pam.”

“You wish, Alex.”

“Yeah, I do. I could go for some serious cock sucking right about now. Let me tell you, working on Ghost Patrol X has not been the pussy magnet I thought it would be.”

“Now I can’t tell if you are fucking with me or if you really are that dumb of a jock.”

“Why do you say that, Pam?”

“Because you are making blowjob jokes while looking for the Diamond Lake Sucker! You know, the only ghost reported to give people blowjobs?”

“What? Are you shitting me, Pam?”

“Fuck, you really are that stupid. Yes, the Diamond Lake Sucker is some slut camp counselor named Jackie Voren. She drowned in the company of another counselor. At the first the police thought the guy drowned her, but he confessed that she was under the water sucking his dick and that she got swept by a current.”

“I didn’t know lakes even had currents.”

“Hey, that’s a good point. Anyway, this girl drowned and like a year later, people say that they see her ghost and she comes out of th-“

“FUCK, WHAT IS THAT? PAM! PAM! DO YOU FUCKING SEE THIS?”

“Nothing is on the camera, Alex. What do you feel? Is it a cold spot? A strange sensation on your neck? A weird feeling in your stomach?”

“THERE IS A GOD DAMN NAKED CHICK WALKING TOWARDS ME!”

“Alex! The camera isn’t showing anything! I just see a lake! Calm down!”

“You fucking calm down, Pam! I see a chick, and she’s naked and she is glowing bright white light! It is a fucking ghost! A real one, not the bullshit we pretend to see all the time!”

“Alex, listen to me, there is nothing on camera! If this is a real spectral encounter, you got to report it! Tell me what you see and we can record it for the show.”

“FUCK YOU, PAM! I AM GETTING THE HELL OU- hey, this chick has huge knockers!”

“Okay, that is a start. How big are her knockers, Alex? And keep it clean. Just because we are a cable show don’t mean we can drop F-bombs.”

“Okay, okay. The ghost is walking towards me and she got big ones. Bigger than yours, Pam. But she isn’t chubby like you. She’s all fit and shit.”

“Gee, thanks, Alex.”

“And hey, she’s smiling at me. Oh shit, she’s going to drag me to Hell or something!”

“Calm down, Alex! No one has reported a bad experience with her! Actually what they report is either very little or something preposterous like she gave them a blowjob.”

“Hey cool, she’s trying to unzip my pants!”

“All I see is your belt coming undone, Alex. Can you describe the entity?”

“She’s a hot blonde with big tits, Pam. She got a bikini bottom on and it has polka dots. She is all white and she is winking at me.”

“Oh God, I just saw your boner!”

“I know, right? She’s kissing my cock!”

“What is the opposite of a bucket list, Alex? Cause seeing your dick is definitely one of the things I did not want to do before I died.”

“Oh fuck, yes.”

“Alex? Talk to me. I’m not looking at the screen. What is happening?”

“It is awesome, Pam. She has my cock deep in her mouth. I can feel the back of her throat. Do ghosts have throats? Because I totally feel it.”

“Eww. Try to keep it clean for the audience and for my sanity.”

“And now is really getting into it. She keeps looking at me and she grabs her tits. Her fingers just sink into those ghost pillows. I know she is dead and all but her mouth is so warm.”

“Oh god, I just took a peek at the monitor and I just see you cock bouncing up and down.”

“That’s now what I see. I see a champion cocksucker. Shit, too bad this girl is a ghost because it was a crime for such a great cocksucker to die so young!”

“Try touching her. Maybe we can collect some ectoplasm.”

“I am going to shoot my ectoplasm all over her!” FUCK! I tried to touch her tits and my hand went right through her. That is some freaky shit.”

“More freaky than getting your cock sucked by a dead girl?”

“Shit, this dead girl can suck my cock any time.”

“I just checked the EMP readings and they are off the chart. Did you hear me, Alex?”

“Uhhh,”

“Alex, what is wrong?”

“Mmm,”

“Fuck Alex, don’t get killed out there! Be safe you stupid jerk!”

“Fuck, YES! OHHHH! Damn, Pam, can’t you shut up for one minute while I bust a nut here?”

“What? OH GOD! I just looked at the screen and there is come every where!”

“Really? I don’t see shit. Ghost Girl is gone. Fuck, where did my belt go?”

“Damn, no one is going to believe this, are they Alex? We have no video, some weird EMP readings and your cock spraying jizz every where.”

“Fuck that shit, Pam. I’m going to rent a house by this fucking lake.”

Dirty Books: Lay Me Odds

2011-10-17T07:32:00.003-05:00

"Lay Me Odds" By Rod Gray is book two in the Lady from L.U.S.T spy series. Rod Gray is most likely a man named Gardner Fox but house names being what they were, it is never a guarantee. What I do know for sure is this book was a crazy ride.

Eve Drum is a hot secret agent woman who can pick locks, shoot guns with awesome accuracy, ski like an Olympic athlete and is a master of Karate. She also has no problem creating a stripper act on short notice, assuming the role of a dominating mother to a psychologically scarred submissive male and fucking who she needs to for information. She is Bond with much better tits.

See, back in the 60's, publishing James Bond stories was printing money. Everyone else liked money so they made their own versions of Bond. I like to imagine that in the 60's, every other person at a gambling table was a spy. Some companies changed up the formula by making their secret agent American while other companies went further and made their agent a woman. Some smart companies realized that sex was the biggest appeal of Bond and went straight to porn stories. The Lady from L.U.S.T. fits snuggly into this category like a great bosom in a tight sweater.

That bosom in a tight sweater joke I made just now? That is what qualifies as porn in this book. In 150 pages I think I read four sex scenes and in some cases, I missed the sex scene because they happened in one sentence. For a book that is very frank about the subject of sex, there wasn't a lot of actual sex.

What there was a lot of was talking about sex. Before Eve has a threesome, she takes a moment to explain some historical practices of threesomes, what it is called in different languages and which countries are more open to threesomes than others. Even something as straight forward as stripping gets a lengthy explanation about the origins of stripping and what effect it has on the male psyche. It reads less like sex and more like sex education.

My wife mocked this aspect of the book but I was oddly unsurprised. I stopped reading most BDSM novels because I am sick to death of reading about characters justifying/explaining about why they enjoy BDSM. Too many BDSM books read like thesis papers on domination psychology. I sympathize because so many people in the BDSM community need to be told that what they like is normal and doesn't make them freaks. I understand why BDSM books feel the need to soothe their readers but after I have read the tenth theory on why BDSM is normal, I get a little sick of the subject. I guess in the 60's, people needed the same level of psychological soothing to help them get through a threesome.

This is not to say that the book wasn't sexy. Despite the discussion of sex and the micro short sex scenes, the rest of the book is spent with over the top action sequences and flirting. Holy shit, a sex book the flirts? It is like seeing a black lesbian unicorn. Eve shows off her stockings, makes suggestive comments, jokes, discusses how her ass and breasts look in different clothes and is an all round sexy gal. What the book lacks in out right sex it more than makes up for in teasing.

I should mention the plot. See, she has a contact who is supposed to give her some microfilm but agents of H.A.T.E have killed the guy and now . . . You know what? Who gives a fuck about the plot? All you need to know is that Eve fights some bad guys, spends most of her time in gambling places and divides men into people she can seduce and men she has to shoot. This is the rare book about sex and action that never spends too much time on either.

I give it Four out of Five Pam Griers

Old Shon Critiques the Shit Out of Young Shon

2011-10-14T07:47:00.005-05:00

I have been quiet as of late because I have been spending way too much time digging up my oldest stories and getting them into a publishable format. I started posting stories to the internet in 1997 and finding them online is getting a bit harder and harder to do. My fans have asked for some sort of collection that they can purchase and who am I to argue with people's money?

Actually I have been arguing quite a bit. I was not fond of my earliest work. My first year of writing were all parodies and satires on the erotica genre. Older me recognizes that younger me was writing comedy because it was a safety net. If the story was poorly made; hey that was my intent because it was just comedy. I also had very weird grammar perceptions and just seeing two spaces after every comma is enough to make me get stomach pains.

Once again I was my own worse critic. Once I delved into my first stories again, I saw a lot of things that I liked. There were a lot of things I hated but hey, at least now there are things I like.

In my first story alone, I parodied bondage, blackmail, orgies, deathtraps, mud wrestling and a celebrity sex scene. What I lacked in story craft I sure as fuck made up for with ambition. I respect that. I would never recommend that to a newbie writer now but maybe I am wrong. By tackling so many subjects in my first story, I am not sure if I did any of them justice but I at least dipped my toes in those topics. By keeping them all in the same story, I got to see different sides of the same characters which I don't think ever hurts a writer.

What I don't respect is how ignorant I was of copyright laws. Holy crap. Because I thought I was just writing stories for the internet, I never thought I would be in a position to make money from them. I used real life celebrities as characters and a shit ton of comic book references. Worse, one of my main characters, Kiko, wears an outfit identical to the X-Men, Psylocke, and references this at least once per story.

To counter this, I have begun a great conversion process. Instead of Psylocke, Kiko now dresses up as the fictional superheroine, Ninjina. When Kiko took on the evil cosplayers, instead of fighting Wonder Woman, Supergirl and Batgirl, she's fighting Amazon Woman, Ultragirl and Foxgirl. I am conflicted about how this plays out but shit, at least now it is legal.

More problematic is Kiko vs the NWO. Back in the late 90's, the NWO was an exciting evil organization in professional wrestling. In my story, Kiko fucks most of them. Yeah, that is a problem. Changing names would be pointless as I would also need to change signature moves, likenesses, in-jokes etc. At least in the previous story, Kiko was fighting cosplayers instead of actual licensed characters. In the case of the NWO, the story might as well be called Kiko vs the Licensed Characters of a Billion Dollar Company.

What helps me make my decision is that Kiko vs the NWO is my least favorite story ever written by me. I wrote it during a period where I felt compelled to write "something" and so I went with the first shit idea I had. It shows. I am not going to include it in the collection though I will have a note about it's absence.

I am sharing these trials in the hope that any newbie writers out there who think it would be hilarious to have their original character interact with Dr. House would reconsider. Have your character interact with a Dr. House like character and you will thank me 14 years later when you are trying to compile your great archive vanity project.

On a completely different observation, I saw something in my older stories that I hadn't expected and that was plot. I read a lot of first stories by erotica writers and there is a 90% chance that it will be sexy stranger having sex with sexy narrator. I understand that these are prototype stories where the writers are trying to prove to themselves that they can write connected paragraphs but to me they are instant insomnia cures. If they gave them a tiny bit of plot like say, sexy stranger thinks the narrator is their ex, then it elevate their stories from late night masturbation fantasies to something worth reading and remembering.

I might not think Bikini Brothel is the finest thing I have ever written but at least there is a brothel in danger of going broke and an idiot owner who wants to fix it. A plot should always make the reader ask "What happens next?". You might not think your porn story needs it, but trust me, it helps a lot.

*Image is of the talented Yaya cosplaying as Psylocke.

Fiction: Kiss of the Nebula

2011-10-12T09:27:00.000-05:00

Explorer’s Log: My current location is a day’s voyage from the star system designated, Queen’s Lack of Mercy, by Royal Astronomers. Scanners have picked up a cluster of sixty-eight ships floating around a micro-nebula. All of the ships are broadcasting a distress signal of some kind. Scanners have detected no life signs. Royal Navy Protocol #4 states that in this situation, I am advised to stay the fuck away from where other starships have died. I however have decided to risk further investigation in hopes of finding something worthy to bring back to the Queen. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: Yeah my official reason was a flat out lie. It has been months since I have been properly fucked and according to one of the distress signals I found, this micro-nebula might be the best chance I have of getting laid for light years around.

Vaquel Di sat in front of the transmission screen. She was completely naked except for the shiny lotion she had smeared over her dark brown body. She had one hand on her heavy breast while her other hand was buried in her cunt. Her short pink hair was plastered to her forehead with the sweat of masturbating for a solid hour.

“Computer, replay distress message again,” Vaquel ordered.

The face of a blue woman filled the screen. She was topless and bending towards the monitor. Her sapphire breasts bounced as something green and black fucked her from behind. The blue woman looked at the screen and moaned before she began talking.

“This is Captain Acebo of the survey ship, Curiosity! We are trapped in a micro-nebula that is draining our power cells!”

The woman tried to say something more but a red hand caressed her face. Two fingers slipped into the blue woman’s mouth and gagged her. Captain Acebo closed her eyes and her cheeks caved in as she sucked on the fingers. Vaquel watched as the woman’s breasts continued to bounce as the fucking continued.

When Captain Acebo’s eyes opened again, she pulled her mouth away from the fingers and addressed the monitor again.

“The micro-nebula is fucking me and my crew. I don’t understand how. I suspect it draws on our inhibitions through some sort of telepathy. When the power cells were being drained, we had the resources to fix it but most of my crew just wanted to fuck. Fuck, I want to fuck. Even though life-support will fail in three hou-ohhhhh!”

Whatever Captain Acebo had to say was forgotten as her eyes widened in shock. The blue woman fell towards the screen and cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Vaquel stroked faster. She recognized an anal penetration when she saw one.

“Gods of the Moon!” Captain Acebo said. “Right there! Tear my ass up!”

Vaquel watched as the Captain cried out again. The Captain’s face and breasts dominated the screen but Vaquel had glimpses of the micro-nebula. Indistinct shapes moved behind the Captain, sometimes taking the form of a muscular man or a curvy woman. Cocks grew out of the cloud and rubbed against the Captain’s skin. Mouths appeared out of nowhere and kissed the Captain’s breasts.

“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried out as she climaxed again. She kept stroking as Captain Acebo moaned from the anal assault.

“End transmission,” Vaquel said. The screen turned off and Vaquel looked at the computer display of the micro-nebula. It was a deathtrap that had already claimed so many spaceships. Vaquel should stay the fuck away from it.

Her cunt clenched. Vaquel was tired of fingers and vibrators. Most of all, she was tired of masturbation. She wanted to fuck.

The brilliant explorer made a few calculations. She surveyed the size of the micro-nebula. She reviewed the data that was transmitted from the other distress signals. Vaquel shook her pink hair out of her eyes and made her plans.

Vaquel stood up and went to the hallway of the Deep Space Probe.

“Computer, follow the course I programed and initiate maximum thrust.”

“Compliance,” the computer announced.

The Deep Space Probe shuddered. Maximum thrust was rarely needed. It was usually only needed for emergencies. Vaquel considered the hungry feeling in her cunt to count as an emergency.

The micro-nebula came closer. The Deep Space Probe was hurtling towards it at fantastic speeds. The Probe was aimed for the heart of the micro-nebula, the course designed for maximum immersion inside the cursed space.

“Cut engines!” Vaquel yelled.

The hum of the Deep Space Probe turned to silence as the solar sails powered down. The forward momentum however was undeterred. Two seconds later, the Deep Space Probe was inside the micro-nebula.

Vaquel felt her ears pop. The walls of the Deep Space Probe blurred as the red and black mist seeped in. Shapes took form before her. It was a confusing mix of male and female bodies, which considering how horny Vaquel was, she was eager to accept either option.

Something smooth gripped her waist. She laughed as she was lifted from her feet. Multiple hands pried apart her thighs to a flexibility that she had forgotten that she had.

“Fuck!” Vaquel cried out as something entered her. Something thick, hard, rough and unforgiving pushed into her cunt. She moaned as it filled her completely and then she shuddered as it went even deeper.

In front of her, blue mist took shape in front of her brown breasts. Faces appeared out of the mist and Vaquel was not surprised to that both faces looked like Captain Acebo. Each blue face dived on a breast and sharp teeth nibbled on Vaquel’s hard nipples.

As the twin Captain’s sucked her breasts, a pale white cock took shape before Vaquel’s face. She licked her lips as the white cock stiffened inches away from her face. A body grew around the cock and it was a strange almost reptilian looking species that Vaquel had never seen before. The four balls hanging below the cock promised more come than she could ever swallow.

The white creature grabbed Vaquel by her short pink hair and pulled her mouth to his cock. She opened her jaw and took as much of his cock as she could. He tasted like leather and his cock seemed to drain the spit from her mouth with every lick she gave him. He buried his cock in her mouth till his four balls pressed urgently against her chin.

The lights flickered inside the Deep Space Probe. The energy draining was taking effect. Vaquel tried to look around the white reptilian creature to look out the main window but everywhere she looked was cocks, breasts, asses, hands and faces.

Why did a micro-nebula have faces?

Vaquel forgot the question as something pressed against her ass. While the long cock was still thrusting inside her cunt, another cock was pushing into her anus. She groaned as something cold and smooth pushed apart her buttocks. She shuddered as her ass was slowly violated in that most intimate manner.

The twin faces of Captain Acebo were squeezing and kissing her breasts. The white creature fucked her face. The cock inside her cunt never stopped thrusting. The cock in her ass was content to move ever so slowly in and out of her ass.

Vaquel screamed her orgasm but the cock in her mouth gagged her sounds of pleasure.

The lights failed and emergency power kicked in. Vaquel could still see because the creatures in the nebula glowed with their own light. What she couldn’t tell was if the Deep Space Probe was still being carried by it’s momentum through the micro-nebula. She knew she wouldn’t know the answer to that for at least another five minutes.

The cock in her mouth climaxed. Just as she expected, a flood of come filled her mouth and gushed out of her lips. She choked on the salty come and was relieved when the cock pulled out of her mouth.

She looked down on the blue faces playing with her brown tits. She grabbed the shifting yellow hair of one of the faces and pulled it up to her own. After months of being alone, Vaquel was dying for a kiss.

The nebula facsimile of Captain Acebo was a delightful kisser. The blue woman licked the come off of Vaquel’s lips before slipping her tongue into Vaquel’s mouth. Vaquel wondered if this was some sort of absorbed spirit of the real Captain Acebo or merely a recreation from Vaquel’s own desire. A minute of intense kissing later and Vaquel didn’t care.

The cock in Vaquel’s cunt filled her with nebula come and then bulled out. A mouth, hairy and gifted with a deep tongue took the cock’s place between Vaquel’s dark thighs. Vaquel moaned into Captain Acebo’s mouth as she felt someone eat her pussy for the first time in months. Four licks later, she came again.

The whine of an air processor told Vaquel that life support just failed. The Deep Space Probe was not a big ship and the loss of life support meant that she would suffocate in less than thirty minutes.

The cock in her ass climaxed and pulled out. Probing fingers pushed into her ass instead.

Groping hands caressed her hips. Sharp nail dug into her flesh in delicious ways.

Her plump breasts were pressed tightly against a throbbing cock of unbelievable size. The cock fucked the valley of her tits until a geyser of come covered her breasts.

Someone bit her right ear. Someone else licked her left ear.

The blue woman kissed Vaquel with alternating tenderness and lust.

“Fuck us,” the blue woman whispered. “Fuck us forever and ever and ever and-“

Vaquel fell to the floor as the micro-nebula vanished. She looked towards the rear of the ship as she saw the retreating shapes reach for her. The shapes rapidly faded away as the forward momentum of the Deep Space Probe carried itself completely out of the micro-nebula.

The emergency lights came back on. It would be another few minutes before the solar sails sucked up enough power to activate the life support. It would be another ten minutes before she had any sort of navigation control.

Vaquel touched her lips. They were bruised from the force of the Captain Acebo facsimile’s kissing. Her cunt ached for the wonderful fucking. Her ass was tender from magnificent invasions. Her nipples were sore and sensitive.

She wondered about shapes. Some of those bodies were things that Vaquel had never imagined. Vaquel wondered about the words that Captain Acebo’s phantom had spoken. Perhaps the micro-nebula held all of the people it had killed. Maybe they were engaged in an endless orgy, luring more people to add to their numbers.

It was a pleasant fantasy. Vaquel masturbated as she waited for the power to be restored.

Fiction: Pussy-sitting

2011-10-05T08:03:00.001-05:00

Crystal was bored. She was also horny but her dominant boyfriend, Robert, was away for the weekend. There would be no spankings, no bondage and no fucking until he got back from his trip on Monday.

She looked at the white board with his instructions. Robert had a picture of her naked, posted on the board. He had written instructions over various parts of her nude brown body. He wanted her to wear nipple clamps on her black nipples for half an hour a day. He wanted her no underwear over her full bush of pubic hair. He wanted her to wear red lipstick and suck on a dildo for an hour every day. She was allowed no orgasms.

Crystal shook her head. She was wearing a pair of shorts over her very plain white panties. Instead of walking around topless all day, she choose to wear her rather ugly blue bra that was very comfortable. Instead of going without sex, Crystal had already brought herself to orgasm in the shower this morning.

It wasn’t that Crystal was a bad submissive. Okay, she admitted to herself, maybe she was. She loved sucking on Robert’s white cock while he spanked her. She loved it when he humiliated her while slapping her heavy breasts. She would do almost anything for him and pretty much had, but she liked doing things for him when he was there to appreciate it. She didn’t get that delicious hungry thrill in her pussy when she submitted to him without him there.

There was a knock at the door. Crystal smiled. See? This is why it isn’t practical to be naked all weekend; she still had to answer the door.

Outside was a man that Crystal had never seen before. He was a white guy with dark hair and he looked like he just came from the gym. Wiry muscles peeked out from his tank top and cords of muscles wrapped around his legs. The most curious thing about him was his eyes. They had the same coldness in them that Robert’s eyes did.

“My name is Tom,” he said. “Robert wants you to listen to this.”

He handed a cell phone to Crystal. There was a voicemail and it was from Robert’s phone.

“Tom, its Robert. Look, I’m going to be out of town this weekend and I would appreciate it if you would check in on my sub this weekend. Crystal is a good girl but she never follows instructions. Could you check on her? My instructions are on the board. If she disobeyed, punish her as you wish. Also, use her as you wish. The horny slut needs to be fucked often. Thanks.”

Crystal’s heart pounded in her chest. Her stomach felt like it was going to collapse in on itself. She was also wet as hell.

“Come on in,” she said.

Terror gripped her as he walked in. She had an urge to run and hide the white board. Her hands went to unclasp her bra but she hesitated. Stripping now would be like an admission of guilt. Besides, was she really going to let this stranger fuck her just because Robert gave her to him?

Tom read the board in silence. He shook his head once and looked at her. His eyes promised correction and punishment.

Oh yes. Crystal knew right then that she would let Tom do whatever the fuck he pleased.

“Is this the proper clothes that Robert instructed?” Tom asked.

“No, sir,” Crystal said.

“Take off your bra, now,” Tom said.

Crystal did as he asked. There was a quick and fast way and then there was the way that Crystal was doing it. She put her hands behind her back and arched her breasts forward. She took her time as her fingers undid the clasp. When the clasp was free, she held the cups to her breasts while she unslung the straps. Only at the last moment did she reveal her nipples as she let the bra drop to the floor.

Tom didn’t complain about how long she took. Men never did. It gave them time to appreciate her large breasts and the rich brown tones of her skin. It allowed men to speculate on the color of her nipples before she revealed that they were a dark brown that was almost black with large aureoles that you would have to use a saucer to cover them with.

Crystal gloated a little as Tom’s drank in her magnificent breasts. She knew he was smitten. His punishments would not be as harsh as she deserved.

The gloating feeling faded as Tom walked up to her. His eyes were not of admiration. All he saw was tools for his cruelty.

His hand went to her right breast. Expert fingers pinched the hard nipple. With a minimal effort, he twisted.

“Ow!” Crystal cried out. She made no move to stop him.

“Have you clamped your nipples today as you were instructed?” Tom asked.

“Yes!” Crystal lied.

His fingers twisted tighter. Her breast came to live with tendrils of pain shooting through her. She also noticed that her cunt was so damn wet.

“No, no, I haven’t!” she shouted.

He released her nipple. The tension disappeared but her nipple ached with lingering pain. As she let out a sigh of relief, the first slap landed on her breast.

WHAM! Tom had slapped the top of her left breast, creating an unequal match to the precise pain on her right nipple.

“This is for disobeying your instruction,” Tom said. Disdain dripped from each word. “A sub who can’t obey instructions is just a slut who plays at being kinky.”

Crystal’s cheeks burned at the insult. Before she could respond, Tom had slapped the underside of her right breast. The unexpected angle of the slap stole her breathe away as she processed the new pain.

“If you were my sub,” Tom said as he kept slapping her breasts, “I would have thrown you out of my apartment just as you are. Topless, you could knock at my door all day and I wouldn’t let you back in. You would have to drive home, or walk if you didn’t bring your car. It wouldn’t matter to me. A disobedient slut is not my concern.”

As he berated her, his hand kept slapping. He would strike the underside of one breast and then the top of the other. He alternated between her breasts, covering them with slaps from top to bottom. The force of her slaps would lift her breasts when he wasn’t flattening them.

Crystal gritted her teeth and took it. Her breasts became hyper sensitive with every slap. The size of her breasts became a detriment as they transformed into sensitized flesh for her discomfort.

“In fact,” Robert said between slaps. “Maybe I should kick you out right now. Robert is too good for you. You obviously don’t respect him. What do you think, should I throw you out of his place?”

“No, OUCH, sir!” Crystal cried. Her voice broke as he slapped her between words. I will follow each and every instruction, I swear! “

The slapping stopped. Tom looked unconvinced of her sincerity.

“Take off your offending clothes,” he said.

Crystal didn’t put on a show this time. She unzipped her shorts and let them drop. She had to pull her panties down, which forced her tender breasts to swing downward. She cried out as the tender flesh collided with each other but she pulled her panties off as fast as possible. She stood back up and put her hands behind her back. Crystal also parted her legs just like Robert had taught her.

“It looks like you learned something from Robert,” Tom said. He reached between her thighs. His fingers pushed through the bush of hair and against her sex. The wet lips opened easily for his fingers.

“Oh shit,” Crystal gasped.

“And you are just as horny as Robert said you would be,” Tom said. “I take it that you ignored his instruction and masturbated?”

Crystal licked her lips and made a decision. “Yes, I did. This morning, sir.”

“I see,” Tom said. “Go put on the lipstick that you are supposed to wear and come back here.”

“Yes, sir!” Crystal snapped. He didn’t slap her for admitting her guilt. For a brief moment, she regretted telling the truth. As she quickly walked to the bathroom, her bouncing breasts reminded her of how painful punishment could be. No, she was going to be good for at least a little while.

The bathroom mirror reflected her punishment back at her. The red hand prints on her dark breasts glowed in the soft light. She was so taken by the sight of her new marks that she almost forgot why she was here. Crystal took her red lipstick and went to work applying it to her lips.

She smiled as the red gloss covered her lips. Tom no doubt was going to make her obey Robert’s instructions but Crystal had a feeling that she wouldn’t be sucking on a dildo. Tom had permission to use her and Crystal knew that no man could resist her full lips. Her cunt tingled at the thought of sucking his cock.

Crystal returned to the living room and tried her best not to prance in. She had her hands behind her back and even kept her head down. Outside, she was the picture of a submissive woman. Inside, she was hungry at the thought of sucking cock.

“Go the dinner table,” Tom said.

A pink dildo waited for her on the table. It was the one with the wide base and he had set it to stand up on the table. Crystal realized that Tom must know where Robert keeps the sex toys. She wondered what else Tom knew about her.

“You have an hour to make up,” Tom said. “Bend over at the waist and stuck the dildo on the table.”

Crystal puckered her lips. “Wouldn’t you rather I suck your cock instead?”

Tom pulled off his belt. Crystal’s mouth watered until he snapped the belt in his hand.

“Do I have to whip your ass before I throw it outside?” he asked.

“Fuck,” Crystal said to herself. She hurried to the table and bent over it. The fact that her round brown ass was exposed for his belt never left her mind for a moment. She opened her lips and took the dildo into her mouth. Just to make sure that he knew what he was missing, Crystal relaxed her throat and took all of the dildo into her mouth.

As she went down, her tender breasts pressed against the table. She winced as her breasts flattened against the table. All the slaps came back to life as the table touched her sensitive flesh.

She couldn’t see his reaction. The sound of a zipper being pulled down made her moan. Crystal wiggled her hips back and forth as she continued sucking the dildo. She heard him take off his pants and she knew she had him. Tom couldn’t resist her.

A hand pushed between her thighs. Still bent over, she parted her legs. Tom’s fingers pushed against her bush of pubic hair and into her sex. Crystal moaned as one, then two and finally three fingers entered her.

The fingers thrusted inside her. Crystal choked on the dildo but she kept sucking. If he was going to finger fuck her while she sucked, well, Crystal was okay with that.

The fingers moved away. Crystal whined as much as the dildo in her mouth would let her. A minute later, the fingers returned. She trembled as the fingers thrust inside her, once, twice, three times before pulling away.

“Now I’m ready,” Tom said. “Put your thighs together, tight.”

Crystal did as he asked. She also kept sucking the dildo on the table. Spit was flowing down the dildo as she sucked.

With her thighs tight together, Crystal felt something push between her legs, right below her sex. It was a cock. It was slick and Crystal understood that he had coated himself with her own juices.

“Keep your legs together, slut,” Tom said. He began to fuck.

Crystal whimpered. In and out his cock slid between her thighs just a few inches away from her pussy. One minor adjustment and he would be in her. A small tilt of her hips and she could be riding his cock.

For one brief moment, she thought about doing it. The pain in her breasts stopped her. She had no wish to feel his belt or anything else he would inflict on her.

He fucked her thighs. Every thrust made her struggle with her balance. Her poor breasts bounced against the table and Crystal had to work to keep suycking the dildo. Hands on her hips, he fucked her with a passion that made Crystal drip with desire. The fact that her desire was dripping down her thighs and onto the cock that was denied her only heightened her need.

She wanted to beg for his cock but she had her orders. Crystal had no doubt that if she stopped sucking, terrible things would happen. It was awkward as hell to stay bent over, sucking a dildo while a man fucked her thighs, but Crystal had no choice. No matter how wet and horny she was, she knew that she had to obey.

Still, she was awfully wet. Tom was fucking her faster now. His cock was coated in her own juices. She needed that cock.

Temptation warred within her. A shift of her hips and he would be inside her. Or she could reach between her legs and stroke herself. It wouldn’t take her long to come, she knew it.

What held her back was Robert. She didn’t want to imagine how he would react when Tom told her that she had disobeyed. Crystal didn’t want to compound it by adding new sins. Robert would punish her. He might even break up with her. Worse of all, he would be disappointed with her.

Crystal kept her hands where the belonged. She kept sucking on the dildo as Tom fucked her thighs.

He came. She felt the spurt of seed spray along her thigh and then onto the carpet. There was none for her.

“Keep sucking until your hour is up,” he said. She heard him putting his clothes back on. “Do the rest of your tasks as well. I may come back tonight, or tomorrow. Either way, I may fuck you if you have done your tasks as instructed.”

Crystal whimpered at the thought of a fucking. She felt his seed dripping down her dark thighs. She had never been used in such an unsatisfying manner before.

The door opened and closed. Tom was gone.

Crystal had a choice. She could stand up and stop sucking the dildo. She could jam that dildo into herself in climax in less than a minute. She could put some damn clothes back on and put some aloe on her tits. Tom might not even be back tonight.

Crystal kept sucking the dildo. He might not be back tonight, or he might. Either way, Crystal wanted to be fucked. She would play by the rules.

At least for now.

Dirty Books: House of Holes

2011-10-03T08:32:00.004-05:00

House of Holes (a book of Raunch) is a delightfully dirty book by Nicholson Baker. It is about a magical sexual playground where any sexual fantasy can be fulfilled for a price, and if you don't have the money for it, you can certainly work it off. Want a larger dick? Are you willing to give up your arm for an indefinite amount of time? Want to have a larger ass? Okay but you may have to work awhile at the Wall of Asses and let strangers spank you. Want to have sex with a guy with a great body but no head? They have a room for that.

As you might imagine, this book is very surreal. It is also really dirty. There are no main characters as the book flits around to different characters who sometimes reappear and sometimes never appear again. Magic abounds with pseudo-sexual theory. In no way is this book meant to be taken seriously which helps creates a mood very similar to a quick masturbation fantasy.

The upside to this surreality is the lack of time wasted. Most reviews I have read can't even quote a passage from the book because it is filled with sex. The downside to this is that characters are rarely deeper than a description of their bodies and their libido. I don't think any character had a last name and towards the end I was getting greatly confused on whether I was reading about a new character or someone that I saw several chapters ago. It is a lot like an orgy that way.

There is a shitload of imagination in this book. The Pussyboard lets women surf using their pussies for control. The Groanroom is completely dark and no talking is allowed but other sounds are. They have a Handjob Cumshot competition and a gift shop. The book is more like an anthology of sex and crazy ideas.

The only real disappointment I had was the lack of representation of homosexual sex. As an erotic writer, I understand that it can be impossible to write about sex that you don't care for, but I usually at least include homosexual characters. With all the name dropping of special rooms and services, it would have been nothing for Baker to mention in passing that a male couple was headed somewhere. Considering that the House of Holes was supposed to be a place for any fantasy, this omission was terribly glaring.

Having said that, this is the most imaginative erotica book I have read from a mainstream publisher. Silly, light and devoid of deeper meaning, this book goes over the top and stays there. I found it to be a lot of fun but I had to read it in smaller bites than most books because the lack of a main character made it hard to follow.

I give it Three out of Five Pam Griers

Fiction: Transmission

2011-09-28T08:34:00.000-05:00

Explorer’s Log: I am half way through my 30 day voyage to the star system designated, Queen’s Lack of Mercy, by Royal Astronomers. Deep Space Probe Ship is functioning at peak efficiency. The nutrient pod had a slight malfunction that took ten hours to fix but I had nothing else better to do. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: It has been so long since I have seen a live person; I would happily let any of my ex’s murder me and wear my body as a suit if they would just fuck me first.

Vaquel Di sat in the navigation pod of the Deep Space Probe. She was nude except for the purple panties she was wearing. Vaquel had started wearing underwear again when she realized that she was leaving wet spots wherever she sat.

Her fingers were in her panties, idly stroking at her sex. The lack of contact was starting to get to her. Masturbating with her dildoes and the modified vibrator in the exercise pod was losing its thrill. Watching that strange alien porn that she had discovered on the last planet no longer was enough to get her off. She was still horny, but she was so used to masturbating that she was finding it harder and harder to climax.

“Twenty year mission,” Vaquel said out loud. She had no idea how she was going to make it. In the past, the royal Navy used to man the Deep Space Probes with a male and a female explorer. Unfortunately, 96% of the explorers ended up killing their crewmate due to the prolonged cohabitation in a confined space. Now they send hundreds of probes out every year manned by only one person.

Something beeped in the navigation pod. Vaquel had never heard that sound before. It took her a minute to locate the source. There was an incoming transmission!

“This is Deep Space Probe Explorer Ship, number eighty-two, sending out a transmission to any other Deep Space Probe Explorers. Please respond!”

Vaquel’s cunt clenched around her fingers. It was a male voice! She pulled her wet fingers out and pressed the transmission button.

“Deep Space Explorer Ship number eighty-two, this is Probe Ship number forty-nine responding to your call. My name is Vaquel Di.”

“Praise the Queen, a woman!” the male voice responded. “My name is Kallas Wod. I am bouncing this signal off a comet and I calculate that we only have ten minutes before the connection is broken. Set your vid monitor to twenty xors and we should have visual connection!”

Vaquel didn’t have to be told twice. Another explorer and a male at that! For a split moment, Vaquel debated putting some sort of shirt on. Fuck it. If the male didn’t like big brown tits, than Vaquel had no use for him.

She set the vid monitor and the transmission came in. In an identical navigation pod, a tall pale Euphorian sat in his chair. He was naked and had his hard cock already in hand.

“Queen of us all, you are so beautiful,” Kallas said. “Could you please take off your underwear? I haven’t seen cunt in almost a year!”

“Of course,” Vaquel answered. She tore her panties off in record time. She sat back in her chair and propped her legs to either side of the vid monitor. Vaquel ran her fingers through the pink hairs of her pubic bush. The explorer pulled her lips apart so that he could get a better look.

Kallas moaned. It was a sad mournful sound that only a fellow explorer could make.

“Show me your balls,” Vaquel said. She had no trouble giving him orders. Her need overwhelmed any sort of protocol. She stroked her cunt with both hands as she waited.

Kallas stood up and cupped his balls in one hand.

“They are so suckable,” Vaquel said. “Would you like it if I suck your balls into my mouth?”

“Yes,” Kallas moaned. He sat back down and continued stroking. “Hold your tits for me. I haven’t touched a nipple in so long.”

Vaquel reluctantly pulled one hand away from her cunt and grabbed one of her tits. She squeezed hard and rolled the dark nipple between her fingers. The pain was delicious but not as nice as watching Kallas’ mouth open in bliss.

“I’d love to have your face between my tits,” Vaquel said.

“I would love to climax all over them,” Kallas said.

They stroked together. Each one stared at the other in lust and wonder. They might not be able to touch but just the brief connection of sight was driving them mad. All of Vaquel’s darkest urges were rising to the top.

“I want to fuck your face,” Vaquel said. “I want to sit on you and smother you with my cunt, fucker. I want to ride your cock and break it off in my fucking cunt. I want you so deep in my cunt that you never come out.”

Kallas didn’t stop stroking for a second. “I want to rape your mouth,” he said. “I want to bite your tits and claim them as mine. I want to fuck your ass until you scream. I will take you mouth, your cunt and your ass as many times as I want.

The transmission wavered. Both of them froze in mid stroke. When the transmission stabilized, both of them stroked faster.

“I want to fuck your lips,” Kallas said.

“I want to make you scream my name,” Vaquel said.

Vaquel stroked herself as she looked at Kallas’ pale body. She could easily imagine the contrast of their skins. She wanted to see his white cock disappearing into her brown cunt. She wanted to see his pale hands groping her dark breasts. Vaquel wanted to squeeze his desperate head between her ebony thighs. Vaquel wanted to consume and abuse him.

“Fuck that cock like you mean it,” Vaquel said.

Kallas groaned but he stroked faster. “Twist your nipples like the slut that you are,” he said.

Vaquel bit her lip as she obeyed. She pinched and pulled on her hard nipple with everything she had.

The transmission wavered. Kallas’ eyes looked off screen with concern.

“You better fucking get me off before that transmission ends!” Vaquel yelled.

Kallas pumped his cock with a fury that Vaquel knew so well. It was the same fury that she was stroking her cunt. She did not want some fucking comet to interrupt the closest she had to real sex in months.

Vaquel came. Her fingers dug into her breasts as her orgasm exploded within her body. Her heels dug into the console and lifted her ass off her seat. When her ass came back down, she could feel the wet spot she had left in her seat.

The transmission wavered. Kallas screamed “No!”

“You better come right now!” Vaquel said. Her fingers were still buried in her cunt. “You hear me, fucker? Come, RIGHT NOW!”

“Glory to the Queen!” he cried. His cock erupted in come. A thick blob of it landed on the vid screen. A second later, the transmission cut out.

Vaquel sighed. Maybe it was time she went looking for comets of her own to exploit.

Sheba's Breakfast Menu

2011-09-26T06:42:00.001-05:00

Sheba’s now serves breakfast! That’s right, the fast food restaurant that always gives you everything you want is now making your mornings worth getting up for.

Each breakfast item is handmade every morning by a team of Sheba Employees who all happen to be mothers. Sheba’s firmly believes that no one knows how to make a biscuit like a mother. It is all part of Sheba’s “Mother’s I’d Like to Eat” (MILE) food mission.

Entrees

Sheba Biscuit –a delicious flaky biscuit with a wonderful scrambled egg cooked with three kinds of cheese.

Sheba Face Smother – Two delicious flaky biscuits each containing a wonderfully scrambled egg cooked with three kinds of cheese. Your doctor won’t approve but seriously, wouldn’t you rather die happy?

Sheba Bacon – Other places will stick bacon on a sandwich or add it to a meal but at Sheba’s, we give you what you want with no hassle. Enjoy five delicious pieces of salty magnificent bacon. All of the bacon is fried by a Sheba employee who was topless at the time. Sheba can not guarantee that you will be able to actually taste the nudity of the Sheba employee but maybe you can.

Morning Kisses – Sweet French toast nuggets that are a gentle way to wake up your mouth. Comes with dipping syrup of your choice, Scandalous Affair Strawberry, First Morning Bliss, Ready Again Blueberry and Morning Wood Maple.

Drinks

Sheba Juice – This special blend of five fruits squeezed between the massive breasts of a Sheba employee will quench your thirst and run down your chin.

Sheba Juice has been scientifically proven to improve the flavor of your sexual discharges. (Ref. Von Madd Blind Taste Tests of 2011)

Sheba Coffee – Our special blend of Sheba coffee that is the exact shade of black as Sheba’s breasts. This will wake you up and give you enough energy to go back home and have sex before going to work.

Soda- Sheba’s still does not carry soda. For real. That ^$#% is not good for you. We do this because we care about you.

Quick Special

Sheba Biscuit And a Slap – Sometimes you don’t have time for a full breakfast or a meaningful human interaction. That’s why Sheba’s has two drive-thru lines. One line is for all our regular customers and the second line of the Biscuit And a Slap Special. Slide your debit card and go pick up your food, cause you don’t have time to mess with cash.

It comes with a delicious Sheba Biscuit stuffed with cheese and scrambled eggs. You are also allowed to slap the ass of the gorgeous Sheba’s employee who wears a thong for maximum hand-on-bottom contact.

Warning* - Slapping the Sheba employee’s ass twice will result in a 100$ charge on your debit card.

Letter to a Slut #5

2011-09-23T08:43:00.000-05:00

Dearest Slut,

This weekend you will be my whore.

You will wear the red dress. No bra and of course, no underwear. You will wear the black stockings and the high heels. Lipstick and eye shadow is a must. You will walk up to my apartment in this outfit and everyone will know you for what you are.

When I let you in, you will leave your name outside. This weekend you will be nothing more than a whore for my needs and I have so many needs.

The only currency you will accept for your services will be slaps.

A blowjob will cost two slaps of your face.
A handjob will cost three slaps of your tits.
Fucking your cunt will cost 10 slaps of your cunt.
Fucking your ass will cost 20 slaps of your ass.

I will tip you at my leisure.

Groping and fondling you will be free because you are such a cock loving whore.

My friends will be over to watch a movie on Sunday. Being a whore, I will have to lock you away in the bedroom. You are my dirty little secret and you are all mine. Because you are such a whore though, I will leave you with a dozen dildos for you to amuse yourself with. I will check up on you from time to time and if you are not fucking yourself like the wanton slut that you are, then I will realize that you are not the whore I thought you were. I will parade you past my friends and throw you out of the apartment.

When they leave, I will come to the bedroom and fuck you. It will be so hard for me to wait until they leave but I will control myself. I will wait so that I can have you all to myself. If the others saw you, then they would want you too. I won’t have that.

Until tonight, my whore.

Fiction: Hand-Off

2011-09-21T09:09:00.001-05:00

Holly Valentine waited to be groped. The train was crowded and the green skirt she was wearing was especially loose. As per the instructions, she wasn’t wearing underwear and she stood with her legs casually apart. The agreed upon stop was coming up and Holly was wet with anticipation.

She wasn’t wet for the grope. Holly’s cunt was clenching because of the information she was expecting. The major cable companies were preparing a fake telecommunications disaster to justify raising rates. A whistle-blower within the company had contact Holly and wanted her to print the conspiracy for her news organization. The problem was that the cable companies had excellent surveillance on all of their employees and it was almost impossible to pass any information without them knowing.

Almost impossible. Her contact had an interesting idea for how to hand off the information. He took this train home everyday from work. He told Holly where to stand and he told her how to dress. Holly added the green blouse that showed off her pale breasts and the fabulous green hat where she tucked most of her red hair. Even for a clandestine transfer, she wanted to look good.

The train stopped. Some people got off but far more came on. The crowded train became a thick mass of humanity. The doors closed and the train took off again.

A body pressed against her from behind. She didn’t turn around. A hand cupped her ass from the outside of her skirt. His fingers began to pull her skirt up every so slowly.

“Mr. Blue, I presume,” Holly said. She spoke at a normal voice but the thundering of the tracks covered her voice.

“Shh,” the man said behind her. “It’s me. Just keep looking straight ahead.”

Holly bit her lip. The man was a paranoid freak but then again, he did work for a cable company. He probably knew about the spy devices they put in their cable boxes.

A finger pressed against her sex. It pushed against her lips and wiggle slightly. A trickle of Holly’s desire wet his finger.

“That better be a flash drive,” Holly said.

“I need to make sure there is room,” Mr. Blue said. “I risked a lot bringing it here and I don’t want it falling out when you step off the train.”

Holly didn’t answer. She thought about the corruption that flash drive would reveal and her cunt moistened with every conspiratorial thought. Embarrassing huge companies was such an aphrodisiac for her.

The probing finger wasn’t bad either. He was groping her from behind but he had an amazing reach. His middle finger was searching deeper and deeper inside her. Holy wondered if he had really long arms or was just a short guy. It didn’t matter. His finger was pushing inside her with an urgency that matched the heat within her.

The finger touched a nice spot and Holly clenched reflexively. The man gasped behind her and Holly’s muscles relaxed. His finger didn’t escape though. Instead of sliding out, his finger was out right stroking her now.

“Oh shit,” Holly said as she held onto the overhead strap. That felt good. She doubted that the stroking was strictly necessary but she didn’t mind.

Holly looked around the train. No one had noticed them. The train was too full and it was only going to get more crowded. Everyone was too busy trying not to make human contact with each other to notice the very intimate contact happening right beside them.

The finger pulled away. Holly moaned and clenched in frustration. It was just like an anonymous source. All teasing and no follow through.

She felt her skirt get lifted again. She took a slight step to the left to part her legs further. It was a smart move, because something plastic and large was pushing against her sex. It felt less like a flash drive and more like a dildo.

“How much info is on this drive?” Holly said out loud.

The pushing stopped. “Shhh, you’ll draw attention to us,” Mr. Blue hissed behind her. “It’s 4 gigs but I wanted to make sure it was shielded against EMP pulses and other counter-measures.”

Holly shook her head. Paranoids made the best and worse sources.

The pushing resumed. Holly gasped as the plastic drive opened her cunt. She moaned as inch after inch of the drive invaded her. Her hand clenched the overhead strap with increasing force as the rather wide drive filled her cunt.

Just when Holly didn’t think she could take anymore, the pushing stopped. The fingers pulled away and smoothed her skirt down. The drive sat inside her, shaking with every rattle of the train.

“My stop is next,” Mr. Blue said. “Stay on the train until you reach the end of the line. Don’t let the drive drop.”

Holly nodded as subtlety as possible.

The train stopped. She turned her head so that she wouldn’t see Mr. Blue as he walked past her. A trickle of desire ran down her thigh from her sex.

People left the train and more came on. People pressed against her. She forced her legs together and held the drive tight within her.

The train rumbled as it pulled away from the station. The vibrations traveled up her entire body. The drive shook inside her, pushing and vibrating against the sensitive walls of her sex. The train went through a curve and Holly felt the tug of gravity pulling the drive against her.

She thought about how badly the cable companies wanted the information that she had. The reporter thought about the thrill of yet another exclusive scoop. Visions of embarrassed executives giving statements of denial danced through her mind.

Holly climaxed. She shook as the force of the orgasm traveled through her body. Her sex clenched tightly on the valuable drive and all of it’s naughty secrets.

Holly took a deep breath and let it out. It would be another hour before she reached the end of the line. That meant an hour with a large thick dildo inside her that shook with every bump, rattle and shimmy of the train. Her skirt wouldn’t be able to hide all of the juices flowing down her leg. She would have to stand through out the ordeal with her thighs clenched wonderfully tight together. It was going to a challenge.

Holly smiled. She liked challenges. She liked the idea of walking back to her car and stroking off in the driver’s seat even more. The promise of her orgasm made her cunt clench so tightly around the dildo drive.

When she thought of the wonderful forbidden secrets hidden on that drive, she clenched even tighter.

Fiction: Red Ruby to Blue Chest

2011-09-14T07:22:00.000-05:00

Explorer’s Log: I have spent three days now on the 7th world of in the system designated Curl of the Queen’s Hair by the Royal Astronomers. I have discovered ruins on two continents that belonged to an unknown civilization.

There are no traces of any history or records, but I do keep finding odd shaped stones that fit into identical shaped pedestals. I believe I am dealing with a cryptological species that uses puzzles and sequences to operate their technology. Yesterday I arranged different sliding pieces on a panel to unlock machine that dispensed a potent alcohol.

Today I am in the process of making a pedestal work that seems to be connected to a large outdoor platform. Hopefully this will unlock a treasure vault or perhaps a library of knowledge. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: What the fuck kind of race requires you to gather three rubies from opposite ends of a continent just to open a wine cask? I hope this platform I am working on now unlocks something good. I have been so busy looking for the four cylinders that fit in the pedestal that I haven’t masturbated in two days. End Personal Log.

Deep Space Probe Explorer Vaquel Di set her recording log on the tree beside her. She set it to view the platform so that when it opened, unlocked or whatever the fuck it did, she had it recorded for transmission back to Royal Navy Command. She had to adjust the recorder several times to make sure it was viewing the entire platform. It was huge in scale, easily 50 meters in diameter. It was the largest structure that she had found on this dead planet.

Vaquel posed in front of the recorder for a moment. She wanted the recorder to see her smiling brown face inside her glassteel helmet. A little bounce to her step made her short pink hair bob in a playful manner as she walked by. Her silver suit clung to every curve of her fit body and she took a moment to show off her fabulous round ass to the recorder. Presentation was everything when sending stuff back home. Her discovery might be broadcast to the entire planet of Euphoria.

She stepped away from the recorder and went to the control pedestal. Well, Vaquel hoped it was the control pedestal. It was made from the same strange green stone that the platform was, a stone that she had not seen anywhere else on the planet. The pedestal faced the platform from a distance of thirty meters. It had forty-eight slots each slot just large enough to take one of the six stone cylinders that Vaquel had found. When a cylinder was slide into a hole, it closed six other holes.

The top part of the pedestal was worn away and Vaquel suspected that at some point the worn part had writing. No doubt there was some sort of clue or mathematical suggestion as to what to do with the cylinders. Vaquel had no clue what the correct order of cylinder placement was but she a scientist and an explorer. She was also stubborn enough to try every fucking combination untill something happened.

On combination one hundred and six, something happened. Vaquel still had her hand on the last cylinder as the platform in front of her began to hum. Blue energy matrixes appeared in the air above the platform. Vaquel took her hand off the cylinder and stepped off the platform. The blue energy instantly disappeared.

“Queen’s tit!” Vaquel swore. She stepped back onto the platform and tried to figure out what went wrong. All the cylinders were still in place. She put one gloved hand on the last cylinder she touched and the platform hummed back to life.

“Looks like I am going nowhere,” Vaquel muttered. She kept her hand on the cylinder and watched the platform.

The blue energy returned and began to take shape. A giant alien body appeared within the confines of the platform. Vaquel gasped at the giant dimensions on display. She worried that it was some sort of teleportation until she realized that she could see through the alien body. It was nothing more than a projection.

But what a projection! It was mammalian with three proud heavy blue breasts to prove. The body was humanoid with two arms and two legs though this alien appeared to only have three fingers on each hand. Three slits were between it’s legs and the way that the giant alien was stroking them, Vaquel was certain that they were sexual organs. The face was similar enough Vaquel’s, with a mouth and a nose but three eyes were on the alien’s face. Long wispy blue hair floated around her face.

A second giant alien appeared. This was undeniably male. It was identical to the first alien with the exception of the three breasts and instead of slits, it sported three massive cock like appendages. Each cock was as large as Vaquel’s Deep Space Probe.

“Praise the Queen,” Vaquel whispered. After her long space voyage with nothing but dildoes and vibrators to keep her company, Vaquel was in awe of such majestic instruments of male fucking. She was also intensely jealous of the giant alien woman who could handle all three of those cocks at once.

As Vaquel watched, the two giant aliens started kissing. The woman’s long hair floated and touched the bare head of the male. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies. The male groped the massive breasts of the woman. The woman squeezed and pulled on the cocks of the man, tugging each one in turn. Their giant bodies pressed against each other as passion over took them.

Passion was becoming a problem for Vaquel as well. She was feeling the rising heat between her thighs. Her sex was responding and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. The atmosphere was toxic and she couldn’t afford to open her suit for more than ten seconds. Her sex ached as she watched the two aliens kiss and fondle each other.

The alien woman fell to her knees and took one of the cocks into her mouth. She masturbated the other two cocks while her blue lips pleasured the third. There was no sound but the male alien opened his lips to a silent moan.

“Fuck it,” Vaquel whispered. She had to keep her right hand on the cylinder but her left hand was free. Praise the Queen that Vaquel was ambidextrous. Her left hand went between her legs and pressed against her sex. The smooth material of her space suit separated her fingers from her sex but Vaquel didn’t care. She would make do.

The giant alien woman took turns sucking each of the cocks. Vaquel was impressed by the way that the alien woman was able to keep pleasuring the other cocks manually. It also turned the explorer on as the three giant cocks grew harder and larger.

“Comet spunk, I just want one,” Vaquel moaned. “Just one cock to slip inside me. Just one cock to fill my cunt.”

She stroked herself faster. The material of her space suit was not as nice as her fingers but thankfully the material was quite thin. It was also fortunate that Vaquel had stopped wearing underwear several weeks ago. The harder part was masturbating while standing up and holding onto the cylinder. Weeks of masturbating in her relaxation pod had conditioned her to climax on her back. Coming while standing up was proving to be a challenge.

The male alien lifted the woman by the thighs and lowered her onto his cocks. Vaquel watched in wonder as all three cocks slid into the woman’s sexes. The man held onto the woman with powerful muscles that kept them both upright. It was triple penetration on a giant scale that Vaquel could scarely believe.

“Yes,” Vaquel said as the male bounced the female on his three cocks. The explorer stroked faster even though her knees were threatening to give out. Her body wanted to lie down and come but she had to stay standing. The novelty of standing was delaying her almost certain orgasm.

The aliens changed position. The man reclined on the ground while the woman turned around. Giant cocks slid into giant cunts as the woman mounted the man. The woman faced Vaquel and the explorer could swear that the alien image was staring right at her. The woman smiled with the satisfaction of a woman fully filled.

Vaquel stroked faster as the women humped the man’s three cocks. To aid in her masturbating, her hips were grinding her cunt against her hand. She was humping herself as hard as the alien woman was humping the man.

The explorer trembled and nearly lost her grip on the cylinder. What cruel race would force a person to watch porn with only one hand? The inside of her glasssteel helmet was fogging up from her rapid breathing but her suit’s environmental controls were doing their best. She just had to hold on until she came. She was damn close.

The blue aliens moved again. The woman was on her back now. The man was above her and between her legs. He was fucking her so hard now. Vaquel couldn’t see the union of cocks and cunts but she could see the shockwaves in each one of the woman’s giant breasts. It was almost brutal. It was almost violent. It was unbelievably sexy.

Vaquel felt her climax coming. She was shaking from head to toe. Her hand gripped the cylinder with all of her might. She was still humping her hand, trying her best to slip even a single finger inside her but the damn spacesuit material was holding her back. Vaquel was soaking her suit with the need of her desire.

The alien woman looked at Vaquel and her face changed. The alien woman was climaxing. They were from two different species but there was no denying that look of sexual pleasure on the alien’s face. She was climaxing.

Vaquel joined her. “Glory to the Queen!” she cried out. The frustration of masturbating while standing only added to the force of her orgasm. The frustration of being denied true penetration only made her release that much sweeter. She let go of the cylinder and fell happily to the ground.

Explorer’s Log: I am finally leaving this planet and setting course for a new world in this system. I believe this world has great potential for xeno-erotic entertainment. I am recommending that Conquest ship explore this world for proper exploitation. End Personal Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: It took me standing at that damn pedastel for four hours, but I was able to watch the entire program. In the last hour, they introduce another couple for some awesome group sex. More importantly, my recorder log was able to record all of it. I am looking forward to watching it from the comfort of my relaxation pod with my full arsenal of dildoes. End Personal Log.

Letter to a Slut #4

2011-09-09T07:36:00.000-05:00

My Dearest Slut,

I have a craving to taste your cunt.

I have made no plans for the weekend. I don’t know where we will be fucking or whom we will be seeing. All I can think about is dipping my tongue into your pussy. Until I sate my craving, I will not be able to think of anything else.

Today you will wear that red thong I bought you. I want it tight against your cunt all day long. Every hour, on the hour my slut, you will stroke your pussy ten times while thinking of me. Your only duty today is to get your sex ready for me.

When you come to my home, I will have the coffee table ready. You will strip down and hand me your thong. I will tie you the table and get your legs securely bound. I know how much you squirm and move when I eat you and today you are going nowhere.

Your wet thong will go into your mouth. My mouth will be on your cunt. I will lick, nibble and devour to my heart’s content. My tongue will play with your clit. You’ll feel my fingers scratching your thighs as I try to sake my thirst with your juices.

You may climax if you wish, it is not my concern today. I just want to eat you. I want the smell of you on my face. I want to drink your desire. I want to feast on your pussy.

Today I consume your sex.

Fiction: Bionic Cock

2011-09-07T07:12:00.001-05:00

“Dr. Parker, are you awake?”

James Parker opened his eyes. His boss, Dr. Otto Von Madd was leaning over him. James saw his reflection doubled in the purple goggles that Dr. Von Madd always wore.

“What happened?” James asked. “There was some sort of explosion, right?”

“Oh yes,” Dr. Von Madd said. “The zero gravity lubricant is apparently highly combustible when it comes in contact with synthetic fibers. Who knew?”

James tried to sit up. Dr. Von Madd gently pushed him back into the hospital bed. That was when James noticed that there were a dozen other scientists there.

“I should explain something, Dr. Parker,” Dr. Von Madd said. “The explosion was quite devastating. We lost all of prototype room #3 and all of the lubricant samples. On a personal note, your penis and scrotum were disintegrated at the molecular level.”

“What the fuck?” James said. He looked down at the rather large bulge underneath his hospital gown. He could feel his cock. Actually, he could feel his cock and it felt somewhat bigger than he remembered.

“Have no fear, Dr. Parker,” Dr. Von Madd said. “You work for the premiere erotic science laboratory in the world. We immediately took action! While you were unconscious and recovering in our medical bay, I gathered the top experts in the laboratory to reconstruct you a replacement set of sexual organs.”

James reached down and pulled his hospital gown up as fast as he could. A gleaming monster of a cock sat between his legs. Even more disturbing than his cock was his legs. Instead of his normal legs, there were just two withered stumps.

“What the fuck happened to my legs?” Dr. Parker said.

Dr. Von Madd waved the question away. “Well, your legs were awfully close to the blast weren’t they? They were annihilated too. Please try to focus on the important part; the fact that you have the most advanced cock in all of creation!”

“I added the laser targeting!” a voice from the crowd of scientists yelled.

“Yes, thank you Dr. Wade,” Dr. Von Madd said. He turned back to James. “Dr. Wade created a laser targeting system that will allow your cock to enter your targeted sexual destination without having to use your hands.”

“Thank you?” James said.

“No thanks necessary,” Dr. Von Madd said. “Dr. Geinrich designed the spin motor, Dr. Ji perfected the sensory net so that you will be twice as sensitive then you were with your inferior biological cock, while the control gauge designed by Dr. Othven will allow you to adjust and control your climax as needed. I should also point out that your right ball is a mp3 player so you can set the mood for a romantic encounter while your left ball is now a lubricant and hand sanitizer dispenser. Those were designed by the Accessory Department.”

Seven scientists waved to James from the crowd.

“So what do you think?” Dr. Von Madd said. “I picked the color. Every one loves chrome.”

“Well, I am a bit concerned about my legs,” James admitted.

“Good lord, man!” Dr. Von Madd said. “You have a cock that comes with vibration speeds that could satisfy a cheerleader squad and all you care about is your damn legs! Where is your appreciation for science, man?”

“Well, how am I going to walk?” James said.

“Fine!” Dr. Von Madd said. “Fine, we’ll graft some cybernetic legs onto you. They are preprogrammed with a dozen male stripper dance moves, but they should help you get around. Now can we focus on the technological marvel between what is left of your thighs?”

“Yes, of course, Dr. Von Madd,” James said. “I must admit, my new cock is quite impressive. I do worry that it might be a little too big.”

Murmurs broke out among the assembled scientists. DR. Von Madd nodded his head in agreement.

“We discussed that a lot,” Dr. Von Madd said. “We were satisfied with the eight inches we choose but Dr. Branger insisted that we added another two inches. We deferred to her experiences with cocks.”

“You’ll thank me later!” a female voice shouted from the group.

“Thanks, everyone,” James said. “Wow, this will take some getting used to.”

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Von Madd said. “We have enlisted six nurses who will attend to your needs while testing your new cock. Nurse Maria has already volunteered to take your new cock’s virginity.”

James didn’t know what to say.

“We’ll leave you to your recovery,” Dr. Von Madd said. “Your lab partner, Dr, Vickman lost both breasts in the accident and we generously decided to give her an upgrade as well. I’ll check on her and then I’ll come back later to interview Nurse Maria as to your performance.”

James was at a loss of words. He waved his hand at the scientists as they left.

He was surprised when his cock waved goodbye as well.

Fiction: Exercise Pod

2011-08-31T07:57:00.000-05:00

Explorer’s Log: I am six days away from reaching the outer planets of the star system designated as Curl of the Queen’s Hair by the Royal Astronomers. During the last seven days, I have analyzed and transmitted the data I gathered from the last star system. With nothing left to transmit, I plan to spend the rest of my travel time exercising and maintaining the solar sails for optimal efficiency. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: Six fucking more days to go and the plant dildo I was using broke yesterday. Six fucking days to go and all my vibrators have burned out. Six more fucking days to go and I have a cramp in my hand from masturbating. Today I am going to try to modify the exercise pod to power one of my vibrators. If I have to spend the rest of this trip just using my hand, I am going to go insane long before this twenty year mission is over. End Explorer’s Personal Log.

Vaquel Di brushed her pink hair out of her face and stretched. Alone on the Deep Space Probe, she hadn’t bothered to wear clothes today. She pumped some body lotion into her hands and began the work of rubbing it into her dark body. The lack of humidity in the Probe was taking some getting used to and Vaquel felt constantly dry. Well, her skin was dry but her cunt was always soaked.

“I have got to get the exercise pod modified today,” Vaquel said out loud. She smeared the lotion onto her large brown breasts. Her cunt responded with more heat.

“Fuck,” she said. It was more a statement of desire rather than annoyance. She was a Euphorian and if there was one thing her race loved more than anything, it was getting fucked.

Vaquel moved through the narrow corridor of the Probe and headed for the exercise pod. Energy was at a premium on this space ship. In order for one person to manage a space ship for twenty years, they had to use the simplest engine possible. The solar sails were easy to maintain and even easier to repair but the energy output was terribly low. The Probe had just enough power to get from star system to star system, run the exercise pod, the hygenics pod, the nutrient pod and the helm, but it left no energy for anything else. If Vaquel hooked up one of her vibrators to the solar sails, she risked draining the sails to the point that she would be stranded in space.

Vaquel had a plan. The exercise pod had a bicycle that used to tension springs to force the user to peddle harder. A few modifications and Vaquel planned to use those tension springs to generate a small amount of power. It would be just enough to activate one of her weaker vibrators but it would require her to keep cycling while it was turned on. Vaquel didn’t think that would be a problem. Her sexual frustration would supply her with an endless amount of power.

An hour later, Vaquel was ready to test her upgrades. She mounted the cycle and sat gently down on the vibrator sticking up from the seat. The delicious feeling of being penetrated flooded her body. If the vibrations didn’t work, the novelty of humping this seat would be a nice consolation prize.

Her feet pushed against the pedals. Immediately, the vibrator buzzed to life. The strength of the vibrations was a pleasant surprise and Vaquel stopping pedaling for a split second. The vibrations instantly ceased.

“This is going to be a workout,” she muttered.

She gripped the handlebars and pedaled. Her fit dark legs pumped the pedals while the vibrator buzzed inside her. She had an urge to hump the vibrator but it was too awkward to hump and pedal at the same time. The explorer just had to be satisfied with what she had.

Vaquel closed her eyes and imagined her last good fucks. When she found out that she had been selected for the Deep Space Probe program, she knew that she might never see any of her ex-boyfriends ever again. It was a perfect excuse to visit each of them and fuck them one last time.

She remembered Walgo and his impressive tongue. He was a thief and an abuser of far too many drugs but by the Queen, could he eat a cunt like no one else. Vaquel rode his face one last time before sucking him off.

Vaquel pedaled faster.

She remembered Ivok and his scarred chest. He was a savage soldier for the Queen’s army and every time they had sex, he nearly choked her to death with his powerful hands. It was worth the risk and the neck bruises afterwards just to have him fuck her like an enemy one last time.

Vaquel moaned and pedaled faster.

She remembered Darn and his mansion. The man was so much older than her and so filthy wealthy but he wanted to make her just another possession and Vaquel had higher aspirations. He was happy to use her one last time and Vaquel trembled as she thought of him fucking her on his expensive rugs.

Vaquel bit her lip and pedaled faster.

She remembered Kennic and his massive cock. He was dumber than a boot but the man was a life support system for the greatest cock she had ever fucked. He didn’t understand that she would be away for twenty years but it didn’t stop him from taking her three times. The time he took her ass nearly split her apart but it was so fucking worth it.

Vaquel clenched the vibrator and pedaled faster.

She remembered Bictor. Oh, that bastard. She loved him and he loved her but he had the chance to marry that video whore, Jinna Ose and Vaquel didn’t stand a chance. Bictor became the bed toy of a famous media star and Vaquel joined the Deep Space Probe program. Vaquel hated him. She despised his betrayal. She had to have him one more time.

Vaquel pedaled faster with a mixture of rage and lust. The vibrator roared between her legs. Her wet cunt clenched tightly around the hard plastic.

She remembered Bictor’s eyes when he fucked her. He had the look of someone who regretted his decision. He kept trying to tell her something but she would gag him with her tongue, her breast or her cunt. Vaquel didn’t want to hear his side. She wanted to use him and say goodbye.

The bastard.

“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried out. Her orgasm shook her body. Her legs stopped pedaling but that was all right. Vaquel was vibrating from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Vaquel rested her head on the handlebars. She felt good. Her cunt clenched around the quiet vibrator. She had some ideas on how to improve the vibrator. Maybe she could add some sort of nipple enhancer.

The next six days weren’t going to be so bad after all.

Dirty Books: Bukkake Brawl

2011-08-29T07:42:00.005-05:00

Bukkake Brawl is a violent sexpunk book written by Made in DNA. Filthy, perverse, cruel, and fast as lightning, this book chronicles the adventures of Mei, a sort of sexual gladiator who fights horny perverts with her body was the prize. In short, if she loses, she gets fucked. If she is lucky, she will be unconscious during it.

In an already awful futuristic dystopia, things take a turn for the worse when Mei's sister is raped to death by a midget with an enhanced elephant cock. Mei's only care in the world is revenge although it would also be nice if she can avoid the Hugo Chavez clones that are trying to kill her, as well as countless other enemies that want to rape and kill her just because she is there.

The paradoxical thing about all of this is that this is a really fun book. It takes place on a floating city where sex and violence has been pimped for every nickel and dime but at it's heart it is an action book. Sex is discussed in every other line but there really isn't any sex scenes in an erotic sense. It is a book of violence. People get hurt and maimed with a frequency that puts most horror books to shame. The extremes of the world turn it into a satire. Instead of a serious soul crushing book where you despair for Mei's slavery, it becomes a surreal hostile environment that Mei kicks, punches and cripples her way through.

It is stunning how many ideas are in this book. Many writers, myself included, would have been satisfied invented the Bukkake Brawl rules and leave it at that. This author went to town on so many different perversions that I couldn't track. It is escapism fiction with a ton of creativity and sexual exploitation taken to the extreme like only science fiction can go.

I should take a moment and discuss one of the oddest qualities of this book. It is written in tweets. I'll show you.

The crowd roared—the spittle from their frothing muzzles creating a fine mist that mixed with the blood from the cut above Mei’s left eye.

The cut burned with a maddening man-made piss-crackle fire. Was the jackhole in front of her hopped up on Accelerated NanoHerpes!?

She body-slammed him and placed his nuts in a crusher hold that took him out of the match. Better safe than sorry.

ANH wasn’t illegal, but it puckered her sphincter nonetheless. Bukkake Brawl rules: no traditional weapons. Otherwise, have at.

I'll be honest, I kind of hated it at first. I found it weird to stop-go, stop-go like that. About ten pages in, I didn't notice it anymore. In time, I started to really appreciate it. It gives you bite sized information to digest, which when it comes to science fiction and fantasy, you need those pauses to help digest the new information. It also weirdly fits the world. These characters live and die in seconds and rarely plan for the long term. By forcing the reader to consume information in this manner, I felt like the author was reformatting the reader. That is not a bad thing.

Bukkake Brawl comes with three short stories. Of these, Media Whores is fascinating and meaty while the other two are lovely short flights of fancy.

You can purchase Bukkake Brawl as an ebook from amazon

I give it Five out of Five Pam Griers

Letter to a Slut #3

2011-08-26T09:45:00.000-05:00

My Dearest Slut,

This weekend I shall grant you the gift of six words.

Pinch
Slap
Kiss
Bite
Finger
Fuck

Before you come to my apartment, write these six words any where you wish on your body in green marker. Where you place the word, is where you shall receive the gift. If you want me to slap your tits, just write ‘Slap’ across your tits.

Keep in mind my slut, that the word is all you shall receive. If you write pinch on your tits, then I won’t pinch your ass during sex. If you write slap across your ass, I won’t slap your face. If you write kiss beside your lips, I won’t kiss your nipples. If you write bite on your nipples, then I won’t bite your thighs. If you write finger beside your cunt, then I won’t finger your ass. If you write fuck across your ass, then I won’t fuck that eager mouth of yours.

You will be punished for poor penmanship.

You will be punished for any words that are unreadable.

You will be used in accordance to the words that you have chosen.

Choose wisely. It will be a long weekend.

Fiction: Forgiveness

2011-08-24T08:49:00.000-05:00

“Please,” Claire said.

Mr. Dillon ignored her.

Claire Currie was a librarian for the exclusive Ashbee-Collette Collection. Today her duties included creating a catalog for erotic books purchased yesterday, arranging transportation to a book store and evaluating a batch of books before her boss, Mr. Dillon, purchased them. Right now her duty was masturbating Mr. Dillon as they lied on their hotel bed and quite frankly, Claire was grateful that she was even allowed to do that after today’s mistake.

“I am truly sorry, Mr. Dillon,” Claire said. She emphasized her British accent because she knew he responded well to it.

“Hmm,” Mr. Dillon said noncommittally. He may have been dismissing her apology, or he was reacting to her nimble fingers around his cock. It was hard for Claire to tell. He kept reading one of the books they had purchased. It was entitled “Easy Office Girl.”

Claire sighed. Mr. Dillon was nude and the picture of relaxation. Claire was fully clothed in her librarian’s uniform. She propped her self up on one elbow while her right hand stroked his cock. Stockings clad her dark legs as they draped over Mr. Dillon’s white legs. Her black skirt pressed against his hip as she pushed her crotch to him. Since today was Wednesday, Claire’s panties were white but if anyone were to inspect them, they would find that Claire’s sex had soaked them with her desire. She wore a white bottom down blouse that she had opened so her generous dark cleavage was on display. If Mr. Dillon would just turn his head, he would see her round mounds about to fall out of her white lace bra.

Mr. Dillon kept reading.

Claire stroked him as she was instructed. After a long day of purchasing porn, they usually had sex. Mr. Dillon would inflict some terrible passionate act upon her and Claire would climax in so many delightful ways. Today however, he was pissed and the only thing he required of her was her fingers.

It was torture. The cock that had pleasured her cunt, her ass and her mouth was now only permitting her fingers to stroke him. She almost would prefer if he didn’t fuck her at all. Instead, he was having her manipulate the one thing that she couldn’t have.

“I should have been more careful,” Claire said. “I would never recommend purchasing that book if I knew that a single page was missing, much less three.”

Mr. Dillon didn’t reply but he did frown.

“I should have been more careful when appraising a book before recommending that you purchase it,” Claire said. “In the future, I will confirm that every book has all of its pages intact.”

“You are getting dry,” Mr. Dillon replied.

Claire removed her hand. She stuck out her tongue and licked her hand. The young librarian made sure her hand was nice and slick before wrapping it back around her boss’s cock.

“My pussy never gets dry,” Claire said. “I could lift my skirt and mount you, sir. It would be my pleasure.”

Mr. Dillon turned the page of his book and ignored her.

Claire caught herself grinding against Mr. Dillon’s hip. He didn’t complain but Claire was terrified of her humping interrupting his reading.

“I know my mistake cost the Collection twenty-five dollars and I want you to take that amount out of my pay,” Claire said. “I know that every bit of money is precious.”

Mr. Dillon ignored her.

“In fact, I think you should take that twenty-five dollars out of my ass in any manner you feel is appropriate,” Claire said. Of course, the nature of her employment meant her ass, as well as her breasts, cheeks and soles of her feet were available to be spanked, flogged or slapped at Mr. Dillon’s discretion at any time, but Claire knew that Mr. Dillon liked to be invited.

Claire’s hand pumped Mr. Dillon’s cock. It throbbed in her hand. There was so much heat from his hardness. Claire moaned as she thought about that heat going to waste in her hands instead of inside her.

“Please sir,” Claire said. “If you will not punish my ass or use my cunt, then please let me make it up to you with my mouth. I can either lick you slow and sensual or you may fuck my face if it pleases you. I just want to make you come in the manner that would give you the most pleasure, sir.”

“Mmm,” Mr. Dillon said. He might have reached a good part of his book.

Claire tipped her head so that her glasses could slide down her nose slightly. She understood his personal fetishes. Too bad he wouldn’t turn his head.

“Please sir,” she said. “I am terribly sorry. I will take precautions to prevent it from ever happening again. Let me please you. Since I failed at one duty, let me show you how good I can be in other duties.”

Mr. Dillon turned the page.

She was about to say something else when his cock pulsed in her hands. His hips did a subtle thrust into her hand. Claire turned her attention away from the wet heat between her thighs and focused on the girth in her hand. She had been given her orders and she knew it was a punishment. Perhaps she should spend less time begging and more time doing what she had been asked to do.

Claire added a half twist to her stroking. She let her thumb slip over the tip of his cock with each stroke. She loosened her grip so that her hand could slide faster over him. Her fingernails glided over the veins of his cock.

Mr. Dillon was breathing harder.

Without asking, Claire pulled her shirt open. She leaned closer so that the brown globe of her breast was inches from her boss’s face. Claire offered herself but she did not beg.

Mr. Dillon turned his head and opened his mouth. The white lace bra held the bottom half of her breast but the top half was there for him. He bit. He licked. He buried his face in her breasts.

Claire’s sex was soaked with new desire. She ignored it. She kept her attention on her balance so that Mr. Dillon would nibble her breast to his heart’s delight. She focused on her hand, gripping just a little tighter and going a little faster over his cock.

He would come. He would spill his white seed onto her dark hands and that would be it. She would clean him up and then he would leave her alone to tend to herself. Claire would masturbate alone and Mr. Dillon wouldn’t even watch.

Claire accepted that. She had made a mistake. It was what she deserved.

She stroked faster.

Mr. Dillon growled. He released her breast with his teeth. His head flopped back down onto the pillow and he thrust his hips upwards. He was close.

Claire was surprised when she felt his hand go to the back of her head. She was more surprised when he pushed her head towards his cock. Her owns needs were forgotten as she sought to appease him.

The young librarian was as quick as a cat. The bed creaked as she moved onto him. In the time of a single stroke, she slipped his cock into her mouth. Her plump breasts pressed into his lap as her hungry lips swallow his cock.

Claire moaned as the first splash of seed filled her mouth. It tasted like forgiveness.

Regardng a Certain Almanac

2011-08-19T08:45:00.003-05:00

Writing the Farmer's Daughter's Almanac is like trying to fill a bottomless pit. I can crank out five articles in a week and I still feel like I have hundred of pages to fill. Which I do actually. Writing a humorous erotica reference book of fictional facts means that I have no outline or plot. There is no real structure because most reference books are insane mosh pits of information. To recreate that, I have to throw out structure.

The side effect of not having structure is that I rarely feel any sort of progress. I wrote a funny as hell article about fetish farms and although I was really proud of the article, it is a fleeting feeling of accomplishment because I still have a hundred more ideas to go.

Praise the writing gods for the contributions some of you have sent in. Holy crap, when I am at my most dejected, I read through your entries and laugh. This is ultimately a book about silliness and I am so glad that others have embraced it.

This is my round about way of suggesting to you that you never ever try to write a fictional reference book. Don't do it. It is a pain in the ass. No wait, it is like a pain in the ass with all too brief moments of orgasm. All too brief.

Paradoxically, I have a theme in mind for a different almanac for 2013. I must like the pain in the ass.

Fiction: First Landing

2011-08-17T07:36:00.001-05:00

Explorer’s Log: I have just landed on the second planet in the star system designated Queen’s Left Foot by Royal Astronomers. Initial scans show an active floral biosphere and limited animal life. I am currently looking for any promising vegetation that I can report back to Navy Command. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: Fuck, this planet is green. It has been seven months since I last seen humanoid life. I am beginning to understand why so few people volunteer for Explorer Probe duty. I am not sure if I can twenty more years of traveling by myself. I am horny enough to fuck a Herranian Slug. Oh well, maybe I can find something that I can use as a dildo on this planet. I’ve worn out the ones I packed. End Explorer’s Personal Log.”

Deep Space Probe Explorer Vaquel Di turned off her log. Before she put it back in her belt, she decided to go ahead and get a self-image. She set the log recorded on a stump and stepped out from under the shade so the sun would illuminate her in a heroic manner.

Vaquel knew she would look good. The skintight purple environment suit she wore clung to every curve and muscle of her body. The seven month trip to this part of space had given her plenty of time to work out in the Probe Ship’s exercise pod. Her muscles were tight and her ass had never looked firmer. The glasssteel helmet was nothing more than an invincible bubble on her head, and she had spent a good half hour making sure her short purple hair was immaculate. Her dark brown skin would soak in the sun and contrast nicely with the green around her.

“Log Recorder, record image for archives.”

Vaquel cried out as she was pulled to the ground. She tried to kick with her feet but something was wrapped around her leg. She fell in some bushes and red leaves obscured her view helmet. Something wrapped around her right hand and the damn leaves prevented from seeing what it was.

“Unhand me at once!” Vaquel yelled. She knew the chances of being understood by whatever had grabbed her were remote but she was yelling in anger. This was her first time touching down on a planet as a Probe Explorer and she was appalled at being attacked already.

Whatever had her pulled her up out of the bushes. The red leaves fell away from her glassteel bubble that encased her head. Free to finally look at what had her, she was not happy with what she saw.

Long green vines had wrapped around both her legs and her right hand. The vines seemed to come from different trees but they were working together as they lifted her from the ground and brought her to a large yellow flower.

“Shit, sentient plant life,” Vaquel cursed. Intelligent plants were notoriously hard to communicate with and even harder to exploit for the Queen’s pleasure. Not only was Vaquel on a hostile planet, but she was on a planet that would serve little interest to Navy command, meaning she would receive no compensation for discovering this world.

The vines held her above the yellow flower. The flower was two meters in diameter. Vaquel watched as the flower slowly turned to face her. Vaquel couldn’t see any sort of sensory organs on the flower but it was certainly pointed towards her.

She had no desire to find out what would happen next. With her left hand, she reached for her utility belt. The Royal Navy made sure their Probe Explorers could handle themselves. Nimble fingers skipped past the neurotoxin, the fragmentation capsules and the plasma pistol. She felt the handle to her vibration blade and smiled. This would fuck the vines up.

A click of a button and the blade vibrated at a thousand pulses per second. Vaquel swung it at the vine wrapped around her right hand and the blade cut through it like it was medical gel.

She didn’t account for the vine that was holding her hand was also holding her upright. Her top half swung down while the vines still held onto her legs. As she recovered from the sudden change in orientation, more vines moved into action. Powerful vines wrapped around both arms and coiled from her wrist to her shoulders. Other vines wrapped around her chest and squeezed. Vaquel cried out as her large breasts were crushed against her chest.

“Queen’s tit!” Vaquel cursed.

She heard more vines rustling. Vaquel was upside down and her head was inches from the ground. The yellow flower was still looking at her, but it appeared to be aimed at between her legs. The thought made Vaquel smile.

“You should see how good I look outside my suit,” she said. “Shit, I am getting stress happy. I’m flirting with a plant.”

There was pulling and tugging at her suit between her legs. Vaquel watched in horror as vines with thorns rubbed against her crotch. Environmental warnings flashed on her helmet as the vines worked away at the suit’s material.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Vaquel yelled. She struggled harder. Powerful muscles pulled against the vines but she wasn’t strong enough. The vines held onto her.

The vines tore the crotch out of her environmental suit. She felt fresh air on the thick bush of her sex. Vaquel tried to remember what the air quality reports had said on the Probe Ship. How long did she have before terminal poisoning? An hour? Less?

Something pushed against her sex. Vaquel forgot all about air quality reports as something thick and smooth pushed against the lips of her sex. She pushed her hips against the intrusion before she realized what she was doing.

“No way am I getting fucked by a plant!” Vaquel said.

The plants ignored her. The thickness slipped into her. Vaquel cried out as she was filled in such a glorious manner. It might be plant based, but it was smooth, hard and so form fitting. Vaquel was finding it harder to protest.

“This is not unheard of,” Vaquel muttered to herself. “The plants of King’s Hip Seven were known to respond to cocks pressed against their petals. By the Queen that felt good! Also, oh yes . . . oh . . .uh . . .the trees of Queen’s Little Toe Three were said to drop their nuts right into a woman’s sex. Oh, oh, right there! Plant/humanoid sex is not understood but some plants seem drawn to it.”

The thickness slipped deeper inside her. Then it grew, inflating inside her and stretching her with delicious girth. Vaquel’s eyes clenched tight as the pressure grew and grew. It was a fucking plant, not a person. For all Vaquel knew, this was how the plant killed prey to feast on the nutrients of its prey. Worse, it might split her apart and she hadn’t even climaxed yet.

“Bastard!” Vaquel snarled. The growing stopped. She was still upside down and she was still impaled on a monstrous vine but she was alive. For now. It might start growing again any second. Hell, it might try to get deeper inside her which at this point it would start doing serious internal damage.

“Not like this!” Vaquel swore. She would be damned if she was going to die here and have her corpse examined by the next Deep Probe Explorer who came by this way. Fucked to death by a plant vine was not what she wanted her permanent record to show.

Vaquel struggled. She wiggled. There was a method to her panic. The explorer realized that her suit was torn and now that it had been penetrated, the structural integrity of the entire suit would soon degrade. She needed to tear it all.

The vines held on tight but that helped her. Rips appeared in her sleeves. The legs of her pants were torn asunder. The vines squeezed tighter around her chest and her breasts were pushed down to the ground as the material of her shirt was left behind.

The helmet fell off her face and she knew she was close. With a heroic wiggle, she fell out of her suit and the vines clamped around the empty remains of her suit.

There was still the matter of the vine inside her sex. It thrashed inside her. Vaquel kicked at it with her dark legs but the vine was going nowhere. She reached for her fallen utility belt and pulled the first thing that she could get her fingers around.

It was an incendiary tablet. One hard throw and it would release flaming death. It was not an ideal weapon for when one was naked.

Vaquel didn’t hesitate for a second. She threw the tablet at the yellow flower. Flames exploded from the impact. Streams of flame shot out in all directions. Vaquel ducked as a fireball narrowly missed her face.

The vines went crazy. There was no sound but the thrashing of the vines were as good as screams. Her suit fell around her as the vines that used to hold her retreated and flailed madly.

The same could not be said for the vine inside her. It was in a panic. Instead of simply pulling out, the vine was lashing madly while still inside her. It bruised her thighs with the power of its thrashing.

Vaquel had an answer for that too. As the flower burned and the flames caught on new plants, Vaquel reached for the plasma pistol. She grabbed the wine with one hand and pointed the pistol between her legs. A single shot severed the vine with the power of a small sun.

Now it was time to get the fuck out of here. Vaquel stumbled to her feet. She reached between her legs and gave a yank. The vine tip came out of her wet sex. She was about to throw it away when she thought better of it. She held onto it and grabbed her utility belt with her other hand. Vaquel slapped the belt to her waist and the belt automatically wrapped itself around her dark nude body.

Vaquel ran. As the flames spread around her, she headed for her log recorder. She snatched it up and ran for her ship.

Deep Probe Ship #49 was waiting for her. The door opened for her automatically when it sensed her biorythym. She collapsed inside the door and took a deep breathe of safe recycled air. She was safe.

The vine pulsed in her hand. Vaquel laughed. Her sex was pulsing too.

Vaquel plunged the vine tip between her dark thighs. She cried out as she entered herself under much safer circumstances. The terror of her ordeal was obliterated by the need of the moment.

And Vaquel had so much need. Seven months alone. The thrill of death. The triumph of victory. Vaquel stroked herself with the vine tip. She plunged it inside her with a fierce passion.

As exhausted as she was, she found the energy to turn her masturbation into fucking. Lying on her back, she lifted her hips with each thrust. Her purple hair was in her face and she bit one of her strands of hair. She grabbed one of her dark breasts and squeezed it much harder than the vines had. Vaquel fucked the vine tip like she was pissed at it.

Vaquel climaxed. She screamed her pleasure. The scream echoed through her empty ship.

Explorer’s Log: First survey ended with an encounter with hostile plants. A groups of vine attempted forced sexual intercourse. I am sending coordinates for future Conquest Ships to continue surveys. I recommend that sexually assaulting plants be cultivated for the Queen’s use in punishment and amusement. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: Well, I nearly got killed but the good news is I also got fucked. I even have a new dildo to last me till I reach the next planet. I think I am getting the hang of deep space exploration. End Explorer’s Personal Log.”

Letter to a Slut #2

2011-08-12T08:08:00.000-05:00

My Dearest Slut,

I have attached three pictures to this letter. These will be the paddles I will use to blister your ass this weekend.

Paddle #1 I bought at a bondage convention. The black wood is extremely unforgiving. The leather grip helps me swing that paddle for hours if I need to. The weight of the paddle means that it will impact on your ass with a solid thud that will knock you off your feet.

Lucky for you, I will be paddling you over my knees.

Paddle #2 is made of hickory. Take special notices of the holes that perforate this nasty tool. Those holes mean I will be able to swing it faster on your helpless ass. It also creates a nasty sound that will tell the neighbors exactly what is happening to you.

Paddle #3 is a cheap toy I bought I at the quickie mart. I have removed the ball and string. I chose it because it has that stupid looking cartoon girl on it that you hate so much. This is not a sex paddle for a sophisticated sex submissive; this is a toy appropriate for a brat and a child. Displease me this weekend and this is the only paddle that you will get.

When your ass is nice and red, when your ass is so tender that the slightest touch makes you jump, when you think you can’t take any more and I spank you for another ten minutes, when your cunt is so wet that you have soaked my knees, then I will fuck you.

I will fuck you on the floor. Your tender ass will find no comfort on the hardwood floor. You may come as much as you want with my cock in you.

When I come, I will roll you over onto your stomach and release my seed onto your ass. The heat of my come will blend with the heat on your ass.

When my seed dries on your ass, we will resume the spankings.

Fiction: Extra Credit

2011-08-10T08:01:00.000-05:00

I was surprised when Mrs. Hartman insisted that I come by her classroom for the extra credit exam. I thought I had been doing well in Unknown Erotic Works 201 and I didn’t think my grades were in trouble. When Mrs. Hartman had announced the special test for extra credit, I thought I could skip it. Mrs. Hartman approached me after class and made it perfectly clear that I needed to attend.

Mrs. Hartman approaching me was all that was needed to make me show up. I had a crush on Mrs. Hartman, which wasn’t all that unusual at Eros University. We were the only university that I know of that has a student/teacher dance followed by a student/teacher slumber party at the sports center. A lot of students fuck their teachers here but I had it bad for Mrs. Hartman. Maybe it was because writing papers about lost works of erotica never presented an opportunity for sex in the class.

I walked into the class at my appointed time on a Saturday. Other students were enjoying morning orgies at the recreation center but I was attending class. I had no regrets. Some one on one time with Mrs. Hartmam, even in a test situation, was good enough for me.

My heart sank as I saw that we were not alone. There was a female student tied to Mrs. Hartman’s desk. She was on her back and completely naked, right down to the lack of pubic hair on her sex. The student was Asian, with lovely small breasts topped with erect nipples. Rope held down her wrists and ankles, spreading her indecently on the desk. Long black hair spilled over the edge of the desk. A gag covered her mouth but she moaned when she saw me. She wriggled with slutty desire against her bonds.

“Keith, I am so glad you took my advice,” Mrs. Hartman said.

I smiled weakly, afraid to say something silly. I was also embarrassed that I didn’t see her at first. She was opening the blinds to the windows and the sun bathed her in a radiant glow. Her fading blonde hair turned into an angel’s halo. Black glasses couldn’t hide her laughing eyes. Instead of her usual pantsuit, she was only wearing a red lace bra and matching red lace panties. She still wore heels though, which elevated her perfect ass to even greater heights.

“I want to make sure that I do the best work possible,” I said. Damn it, I ended up saying stupid after all.

Mrs. Hartman smiled as she walked back to her desk. “You always do excellent work, Keith. Your comments on Tolkein’s bondage trilogy were quite remarkable. I also thought you showed spectacular insight into Margaret Mitchell’s motives when she wrote ‘Brett’s Fancy Brother’.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hartman,” I said. I glanced towards the moaning female. “I take it that she didn’t do so well with the extra credit?”

Mrs. Hartman shook her head as she sat down at her desk. She brushed her finger against the student’s breast. The woman whimpered.

“No, Keith, she’s from another class,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I teach Self-Denial 101 and this little tramp did the best. She has managed to go an entire month without an orgasm and without the use of a chastity device. She has given twelve handjobs, nine blowjobs and fingered three women to orgasm in that time but she herself has not had even a finger inside her. Isn’t that true, Hiromi?”

Hiromi nodded vigorously.

“You see, Keith,” Mrs. Hartman explained, “your grades are excellent. I still think there is room for reward for good studying though, and sometimes we must look for credit outside of numerical values. Simply put, if you answer my three questions, then you may relieve Hiromi of her abstinence.”

Hirmoi moaned louder. I was glad because it covered the moan that came from my mouth.

“So far, five other students have tried this morning and failed,” she said. “Poor Hiromi here is about to die. If you fail, I’ll have to dismiss you and pleasure her myself.”

My cock throbbed at the thought if that.

“Now, Keith, please stand between Hiromi’s legs,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I want you to have a good view of what you are playing for.”

I took my place. I stood to the side of the desk and looked down on Hiromi’s waiting body. She looked up at me and lifter her hips towards me. Moisture glistened in her bare sex.

Mrs. Hartman leaned back in her chair. She propped her legs up on the desk, resting one heel on Hiromi’s arm and the other heel across Hiromi’s stomach. She slipped her hand under her lace panties and I thought my cock was going to come right there.

“Are you ready, Keith?” Mrs. Hartman asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“What was the title of William S. Burroughs’ unpublished sex novel?” Mrs. Hartman asked.

That was a tricky one. Most of Burroughs’s work was pretty filthy but there was one book that shamed even him. Not many people have even heard of it and the one copy in existence was locked away in the Colette-Ashbee collection. Still, I had heard of it.

“The Lobster Lover,” I answered.

Mrs. Hartman smiled at me. That was worth more than any sex with a horny slut.

“Very good,” she said. Her fingers stroked underneath her panties.

“Next question, name the three lovers in Charles Dickens’ ‘An Easter Party’.”

Oh shit. We covered that in class but it was a pretty boring story. A poor mother of a chimney sweep has sex with three people with afford to buy a gift for her son. It wasn’t my favorite by a long shot.

Hiromi whimpered before me. My hesitation to answer wasn’t giving her any confidence.

“Mr. Cockins, the baker,” I said, “and Mr. Scrotum, the policeman and umm, Mr. . . .”

Mrs. Hartman slowed down in her masturbating. A slight frown appeared on her face.

Shit! I almost forgot. “Wait, the last lover appeared to be Mr. Ass, the Vicar but really he was Jesus in disguise.”

Mrs. Hartman smiled. “Very good, Keith. No one else today has gotten that one right.”

I didn’t think it was physically possible, but Hiromi managed to spread her legs even wider.

Mrs. Hartman took her hands out of her panties and reached for her breast instead. It was still covered by her black lace bra but fuck, the sight of her breast being squeezed by her wet hand was almost enough to send me over the dge.

“Last question,” Mrs. Hartman said. “Identify Henry Rider Haggard’s only known erotic work.”

I felt a great relief wash over me. Mrs. Hartman wasn’t aware of my interest in turn of the century pulps so she wouldn’t know that I spent extra attention in class when his name came up. I couldn’t track down the book that she had mentioned but it was on my list that I keep searching for.

“She Who Must Come,” I said.

Mrs. Hartman blinked behind her glasses. “That is absolutely correct,” she said.

Hiromi shuddered. She moaned as she wiggled her hips back and forth. Her cunt waited for me.

“Just one moment, Keith,” Mrs. Hartman said. She stood up and began to work on the knot holding Hiromi’s left ankle. “You have won your extra credit fair and share, but I was wondering if you would be interested in answering one more question for an extra prize?”

My heart was pounding in my chest. “What is the prize?”

“The prize would be me,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I would help you fuck Hirmoi here and you as well. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, please,” I said. My voice trembled a little. “What is the question?”

“You just answered it,” Mrs. Hartman said.

She kissed me while Hiromi groaned. Mrs. Hartman’s lips were everything I had imagined them to be. Soft and commanding, I felt like I was drinking from the lips of the wisest woman on campus.

Mrs. Hartman broke the kiss and reached for my pants. I stood there as she unzipped me and pulled my cock from my underwear. Her fingers wrapped around my cock and gave me the squeeze that I had often daydreamed so much about.

“You’re in luck, Hiromi. This is a fine cock indeed.”

Hiromi reached for me with her one free foot.

“Start eating her while I free the other foot,” Mrs. Hartman said. “The poor girl has been here all morning waiting for a good student.”

My cock throbbed. She called me a good student! I felt like I could fuck the entire literature department!

I dived into Hiromi’s sex. She cried out on the first lick. Fuck, she was wet. In all the erotic books, the writers talk endlessly about how wet the women are but Hiromi was fiction come to life. There was a fountain of desire between her thighs and I licked as much as I could.

“Fuck!” Hiromi cried out. Mrs. Hartman must have released her hands because I felt both of Hiromi’s hands pushing my head down. Her hips moved and she fucked my face with her pussy. I kept licking although I was sure just the presence of my face was enough for her.

“Finally”! she cried out. Her body froze in the throes of her orgasm. I felt her hands let go of my head and I cautiously stood up. Hiromi melted in front of my eyes. She went from frozen tension to a liquid limpness in seconds. I felt ridiculously proud of myself even though I knew it was the denial that had all of the responsibility.

Mrs. Hartman came back around the desk towards me. “Give her a moment, and she will be ready for more. This one used to fuck herself three times a day.”

“Okay,” I said meekly. My favorite teacher was standing on front of me and I would obey anything that she had to say.

Mrs. Hartman didn’t say anything. She squatted down before me on her high heels. I looked down on her and her intelligent eyes and red lace covered breasts. My cock throbbed inched from her lips. I wanted nothing more than for her to take me in her mouth but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

I didn’t have to say anything to say either. Mrs. Hartman opened her lips and my hips did the rest. My cock went into her mouth and down, down, down her throat. She sucked all of my cock right down to the right. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had never been consumed so utterly before.

Mrs. Hartman sucked my cock. Sensations flooded my mind. I could feel her tongue, her lips, her breath and her very presence. Looking at her didn’t make it any easier to understand. This beautiful woman had my cock in her mouth and her eyes looked up at me with excitement and affection.

All of the erotica that we had covered in class seemed pointless. No writer could describe what I was feeling. It was a mixture of heavenly bliss and earthly pleasure. It was about suction and achieving the impossible. It was about that special feeling of a tongue from a woman you respect. It was about the joy of knowing you could come at any second down the throat of a teacher. How can you write that? How could anyone possibly convey that feeling for others to read?

Hiromi moaned. Free, she was stroking herself and spreading her thighs. She watched Mrs. Hartman suck me with jealous eyes.

Mrs. Hartman pulled my cock out of her mouth. “I told you Hiromi would be ready. Give her what she needs.”

I obeyed though I was reluctant to leave Mrs. Hartman’s mouth. I moved between Hiromi’s thighs and her legs wrapped around me possessively. This was a woman whose need was so much simpler than mine. I wanted my crush and she wanted a cock. Her desire was a vacuum that I wanted to fill.

My cock pushed into her lovely tight pussy. It was just as wet as before except now I could feel the powerful muscles clenching around me. When I pulled my hips back for a thrust, her greedy muscles clenched and forced me to fight for every inch out.

Mrs. Hartman sat on the desk beside us. She had her back to Hiromi and was facing me. I kept fucking Hiromi but my eyes were on Mrs. Hartman. I watched in fascination as she unclasped her bra. After a semester of looking at her cleavage, I could finally see her breasts.

I fucked faster.

“Keith,” Mrs. Hartman said. “Come here, but keep fucking.”

Mrs. Hartman pulled my head down to her breasts. I smelled perfume and body wash. I kissed soft flesh and licked hardening nipples. I moaned and I thanked the my advisor for signing me up for this class.

I also kept fucking.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!” Hiromi cried out.

Once again, Hiromi’s body froze. I stopped in mid thrust as her body clenched and then relaxed. My hips were still but my mouth was busy. I didn’t want to stop kissing Mrs. Hartman’s breasts for a second. I nibbled and kissed as much as I could with the knowledge that I may never kiss them again.

“Keith, it is time for you to fuck me, don’t you think?” Mrs. Hartman asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

Mrs. Hartman leaned back on the desk beside Hiromi. She pulled down and then kicked off her panties. Mrs. Hartman put one arm around the Asian girl and pulled her closer. Mrs. Hartman turned on her side and slipped a finger into Hiromi’s sex. My teacher opened her thighs and invited me towards her sex.

I didn’t waste a second. Still slick from being inside Hiromi, I plunged into Mrs. Hartman’s waiting pussy. She wasn’t as tight and she wasn’t as wet but fuck, it was heaven.

I fucked Mrs. Hartman. My teacher fingered Hiromi. The Asian student buried her face in Mrs. Hartman’s breasts.

This was education. This was erotica. This was fucking. This was everything I wanted and more.

I thought about the stories that we had covered in Mrs. Hartman’s class. The sex scenes always had a dozen physical variations. We chartered a hundred different words for a pussy. We created sentence diagrams of flowery descriptions of sex. I felt like it all missed the point. Erotica wasn’t about euphemisms and descriptions; it should be about this.

It should be about fucking.

We fucked. I felt my orgasm coming. I tried to fight it but it was useless. This wasn’t porn. This was real life and I was about to bust my load in my teacher while she fingered another student. I stopped fighting it and I let it happen.

I came.

Hiromi came.

Working together, Hiromi and I brought Mrs. Hartman to orgasm on our fingers.

Our performance didn’t affect our grades that semester, but Hiromi and I were more than happy with our extra credit.

Post It Note Signing

2011-08-08T07:15:00.003-05:00

I am deeply grateful for every person who buys one of my books. As a cheap bastard myself, I am deeply touched that people out there want to own something that I wrote. It blows my mind.

Which is why it breaks my heart when I get emails asking if I can sign a copy of their book. Print on demand means that the book isn't actually printed till you buy it. I never see the book as it goes into the mail towards you. It also never occurred to me that anyone would want me to sign a book. Madness!

Here at the laboratory, we have finally come up with a solution. I will sign your book on a post-it note, mail it to you, and you can then tape or affix to your book in an appropriate place. It will require some assembly but hey, you have an authentic mark of my crappy handwriting on your porn book.

if you rather not receive things through the mail, I will scan the note and email you the jpeg so you can print and affix it yourself.

I will also happily send a note to people who buy an ebook that they can affix to wherever they like. I recommend the back of your iPad.

To participate, send me a request at shonrichards at yahoo and give me your address. Tell me also who I am writing it to, and let me know if you want a platonic note or a filthy note. I am a guy, I only have the two modes.

Letter to a Slut

2011-08-05T09:18:00.000-05:00

My Dearest Slut,

This weekend I will load your mouth with my come.

Your uniform this weekend will be that pair of tight shorts I bought you, no underwear. For a top you can only wear that white tank top of yours with no bra. For shoes, you may only wear sandals. We won’t be going out this weekend.

Come to my apartment dressed as I have described. Yes, I know it is too revealing to wear in public. Yes, I know about the teenage boys who hang around the parking lot. They will see you. There is no doubt that they will talk about you to their friends. The neighbors will look at you with disapproval. Everyone will know that my slut has come to me for the weekend.

You will knock at the door and wait. You will not knock again. You may wait awhile.

When I open the door, I will pull you into the apartment by your hair. My cock will want your mouth but my tongue will have you first. My hands in your hair, I will kiss you hard enough to make you gasp for air. My kiss will be the only admission of how much I have missed you this week.

It will be the only kiss you get.

From there, I will pull you to the couch. You will get down on your knees as I sit down. When I remove my pants, you will open your mouth. When I pull down my underwear, you will stick out your tongue. When I pull your hair to me, you will swallow my cock.

You will suck me, my slut. You will do all those things that I love. Your tongue will reach my balls. My cock will hit the back of your throat. You will moan. You will bounce your head on my lap.

I will not fuck your pretty pussy this weekend but you can stroke yourself as much as you want. I give you permission to come. You just can’t take off your shorts. You will have to either stick your fingers under your shorts or just rub your pussy from the outside like a dirty slut. Your fingers can do what they want as long as your mouth is sucking me.

It will have been a long week without you so I will come quickly. I doubt I will last more than a minute between your slut lips. I will fill your mouth with my seed and you will swallow it all. I know that you will flash that smug smile of yours, happy to make me come so quickly.

That’s okay. You will want to fuck and I will turn you down. I am sure that you will beg me to fuck you. Who knows, maybe you will talk me into it. I doubt it though. It won’t stop you from trying. I look forward to the filthy things you will say to me.

When your begging no longer amuses, I will silence you with my cock. As you stroke yourself, I will enjoy every part of your mouth. I am certain that you will climax before I do but you will keep sucking.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday, you will suck me. Movies, spanking, eating and lying in bed will break up the days but always my cock will return to your mouth. You will feel my seed on your tongue over and over again.

I will see you this weekend.

Fiction: Cabin Girl

2011-08-03T10:00:00.003-05:00

Piper lifted the lid of her crate. There was no light down here in the hold of the ship. She stepped out of the crate and blended with the darkness. She had stopped wearing clothes as she could find nothing darker than her own native skin. The deep brown of her flesh merged with the wood tones of the ship.

She couldn’t see the sky but she could hear. The ship was getting quiet. A day’s work of sailing had passed and the early night of fucking was slowing down. Hammocks were being slung and crew members were going to sleep. A minimum crew would be on deck to keep an eye on the ship and steer the Wild Kiss through the night.

Piper crept out of the hold. Every night on the ship was a marvel to her. Born in Jamaica, she lived her life as a servant in a dirty tavern. No family to speak of, Piper had longed for escape from the cruel woman that took her in. Cleaning floors and serving grog was not how she wanted to live the rest of her life.

One day she made a run for it. She knew that she could join the escaped slaves in the forests but she had no desire to live in hardship. Piper went to the docks and looked for a ship that she could stow away on. All she needed to do was reach a port, any port, and she was sure that she could start a new life somewhere. Such was the optimism of youth.

It didn’t hurt that Piper was also very beautiful. She had always been short but in the last few years, her bosom had expanded and her hips had widened most fetchingly. Her black hair had taken on a shiny luster. Lips that always seemed too big were now giving her mouth a sensual pout that would make the whores of Paris jealous. Piper suspected her beauty could open many doors in a new place.

Her beauty was the reason for her hiding on board this ship of cutthroats and perverts. The Wild Kiss had a reputation for being a ship full of sinners and deviants. It also had a reputation for hitting every port in the Caribbean. Piper just had to wait her time and eventually the ship would stop somewhere rich and glorious like Santiago or Vera Amore.

In the meantime, Piper had to eat. With most of the crew asleep, it was safe for Piper to head towards the ship’s galley. There was always a pot of leftovers waiting to be eaten. As a small woman, Piper didn’t need much. A bowl for now and a bowl for later would hold her till tomorrow night.

That wasn’t the only reason Piper left her crate. The small woman was also terribly aroused. The ship’s hold was always dark and secluded, and many a trysting couple would come down here during the day. Pirates would fuck here often and sometimes upon the very crate that Piper was hiding in.

Most of the time, Piper would touch herself as they fucked. As the crate shook around her with the force of someone’s thrusts, Piper would furiously stroke between her legs till she was spent. By the time night fell, Piper couldn’t wait to leave her crate. She needed some real human contact, even if the people she saw were asleep.

She went to the galley first. She picked the lock on the door with practiced ease. The woman she had worked for stole from her guests all the time, and it was often Piper’s job to sneak into their rooms to open their lock boxes. After several weeks at sea, Piper could open the galley door in pitch darkness in less than a minute.

Inside she gorged on stew, a papaya and a small bit of wine. Refreshed, she stepped back out into the ship. Someone passed by at the end of the hallway but they paid her no glance. In the middle of the night, people were busy on their own business. A ship of thieves and pirates were too concerned with not being seen themselves to call anyone else out.

Piper slipped to above deck. She wanted to see the stars. The small woman went to her hiding spot to the aft of the ship. There, a tiny nook was small enough for her to sit in and watch the ocean.

The stars glittered in the ocean.

When she had her fill of the ocean air, Piper went back below decks. She sneaked her way into the areas where the crew slung their hammocks. A single lantern cast inadequate light. The swinging hammocks rocked with the ocean and Piper’s loins stirred at the sight of all that naked skin.

She paused by a crewman. His cock was erect. It was quite enormous and Piper was sure it would split her in two if it ever entered her. This must be the one called Ale Mug. Hiding in her crate, she had heard even the most wanton of pirates confess a fear of this legendary appendage.

She felt a hunger between her thighs. Piper had to touch it. There was no way that she could fuck it, but just had to know how it felt. It was too good of a chance to pass up.

As careful as a thief, Piper reached for the stiff cock. Her fingers wrapped around him as soft as the wind. She could feel the heat emanating from the massive manhood. She forgot herself and gripped his cock and admiration and affection.

Ale Mug groaned. His eyes fluttered and then closed. His nostrils flared.

Piper stroked him. Once, twice, three times her hand moved up and down his girth. She leaned over and gave the tip of his cock a small kiss.

Ale Mug kept sleeping, but now he was smiling.

Piper released his cock. Her own need was making it hard to walk. With her heart pounding, Piper rushed back to her hiding place. She had to slip around a couple kissing by the doorway but from there on, she was free.

She slipped into her crate. Her cunt was wet and ready for her touch. In the darkness and solitude, Piper brought herself to climax within seconds.

Piper dreamed of giant cocks and clear skies.

~~~

“I found you, you little sluthole!” a voice boomed.

Piper was pulled out of her hiding place by her hair. She opened her eyes to see a ragged looking parrot. It was riding the shoulders of swarthy Portuguese man.

“I knew we had a stowaway!” the man yelled. “Well, the cook knew and kept fucking bugging me about missing food, but that means I fucking knew. And now I finally fucking found you, you little naked scamp!”

“Fuck her in the mouth!” the parrot cried.

Piper gasped with lust.

“That is a good idea, Pussy,” the pirate said. “But the Captain decides what to do with stowaways on this ship!”

He noticed Piper’s quizzical look. “The parrot’s name is Pussy. I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Oh,” Piper said, a little disappointed. “And what is your name?”

“My name is Mr. Fucks,” the pirate said. He wrapped her hair in his hand and pushed her towards the stairs. “March, wench! It is not every day I get to take a naked prize to the Captain.”

Her hair in his grasp, Piper had no choice but to go as he directed. Up the decks they went. They walked past a group of men who leered and cheered as her naked body walked by. They went past a group of women who shouted the most depraved offers of companionship. They marched past a smelly man who proclaimed her ass to be smoother than that of an Admiral’s.

Finally they reached the Captain’s quarters. Piper had never been inside before but often she had heard wild sounds coming from it at night. Her poor cunt was dripping with fear and anticipation. Mr. Fucks knocked once on the door and didn’t wait to be invited before he forced Piper through.

The quarters were far more luxurious than Piper could have imagined. A grand bed that belonged to a governor took up much of the room. Thick tapestries looted from merchant ships lined the floors. A painting of the Queen of Spain hung on a wall with some rather suspicious stains on her face. Gold and jewelry littered the floor.

Sitting at a desk was Captain O’Plenty. She wasn’t wearing a shirt although Piper wasn’t sure any shirt could possibly hold O’Plenty’s treasures. Her long blonde hair matched the gold necklace she wore as well as the flashy gold rings on her fingers. She was wearing a black skirt but she had her skirt pulled up to idly play with her cunt hair.

“I’ll be damned,” Captain O’Plenty said. “There really was a stowaway? I owe the Cook a long fucking.”

Mr. Fucks pushed Piper till she was a foot away from the Captain. The smell of O’Plenty’s cunt drifted over the Piper. She licked her lips.

“What is your name, girl?” Captain O’Plenty said.

“Piper, miss,” she said.

A sharp slap landed on her ass. Piper jumped as much as the grip on her hair would let her.

“Address her as Captain,” Mr. Fucks growled.

“My name is Piper, Captain,” she said. “I was named after the Sand Piper bird. Because I am so small, Captain.”

“Where was this Piper hiding?” Captain O’Plenty said.

“She was hiding in that crates of Bibles we had,” Mr. Fucks said. “I knew no good would come from having god damn Bibles on board.”

“Where are the Bibles?” Captain O’Plenty said. She was still playing with her cunt.

There was no answer till Mr. Fucks twisted Piper’s hair.

“I threw them overboard in the night!” Piper said. “I had to make room to hide, and I knew no one would be needing a Bible.”

Captain O’Plenty smirked. “Yes, except I was planning to sell that to a Jesuit monastery I know. Not only do you owe me the price of your passage aboard my ship, as well as the food that you have stolen, but now I find out that you destroyed cargo as well? You will owe me a lot of money, girl.”

Mr. Fucks ran his free hand down her shoulder. “She has the smoothest skin, Captain. This one has never worked outside. I’d wager her thighs are softer than a whore’s heart.”

“Spread your thighs!” the parrot cackled.

Piper spread her legs as far as she could while still standing.

Captain O’Plenty laughed. “It’s not the bird you should be listening to! So what shall I do with you? Should I make you work off your debt among the crew? Any other pirate ship would strap you to a hammock where everyone could take a turn at you. Or maybe I should strap you the mast where we can line up and take what we want from your body?”

“Captain, she be a trembling with fear!” Mr. Fucks said.

Piper was trembling but it wasn’t with fear. What Captain O’Plenty described sounded like heaven. In fact, it sounded much like the fantasies she masturbated to every night. She kept her face as neutral as possible so that they wouldn’t realize how much she desired the punishment that Captain O’Plenty might give her.

“Don’t worry, wench,” Captain O’Plenty said. “That is not how we do things here. No man or woman will ever be raped on my ship. We have too many willing cunts and cocks to ever force ourselves on someone. I just wanted you to know how lucky you are to be on such an enlightened ship.

“Oh, thank you,” Piper said without much conviction.

“No, we’ll put you to work somewhere,” Captain O’Plenty said. She was fingering her cunt a bit more energetically. Piper couldn’t stop looking at the Captain’s slick fingers.

“Maybe we could find a use for her,” Mr. Fucks said. “I mean, she is fucking pretty. She’s so nice and small, I could bounce her on my cock all day long. Let’s make a cabin girl out of her. She can polish your boots by day and polish your cunt at night.”

Piper tried to keep from smiling. Her hands came together in what she hoped was an unnoticed prayer.

“None of that talk, Mr. Fucks,” Captain O’Plenty said. “We’re not Captain RedBush, pressing innocent young women into oral service. Nay, she could work with the cook down in the galley. That would keep her away from most of the crew. She’ll earn her keep till we sail into port.”

Piper felt tears come to her eyes. Away from the crew? That would mean no cocks or cunts for her. Oh why, oh why couldn’t she have sneaked aboard Captain Redbush’s ship?

“Swallow it all!” the parrot cackled.

“Nay, Pussy,” Mr. Fucks said sadly. “The Captain is right. We may be a ship full of adulterers, thieves, killers and sodomites, but we ain’t no rapists. Come along, lass. I’ll introduce you to the cook.”

“No!” Piper screamed. She fell down to her knees and grabbed Captain O’Plenty’s foot. “Please, please let me serve you in any carnal way you desire! Give me to the crew or keep me to yourself, just please make use of me! I beg you!”

Captain O’Plenty looked at her in pleasant surprise. She did not stop stroking herself. The busty blonde did glance at Mr. Fucks.

“What do you think, Mr. Fucks? Is our stowaway that afraid of kitchen work or do you like she is a harlot?”

“Harlots do it twice!” the parrot said.

“I agree with Pussy,” Mr. Fucks said. “Just look at the stain she’s making on your rug. She damn near left a wet spot already.”

Piper looked down. It was true. The terrible punishments they had described were causing her cunt to flow. She must have been trickling down her thighs since Mr. Fucks first grabbed her.

Captain O’Plenty put her foot on Piper’s chest. Piper looked down the long muscular leg to the hairy cunt that the Captain was stroking. The heat between her own thighs became unbearable.

“Are you a harlot, girl?” Captain O’Plenty said. “A cabin girl would have to keep the place tidy, wait on me like a maid and warm my bed. She would also have to warm the bed of any man or woman I tell you to.”

“Suck my balls!” Pussy cackled.

“Yes, and you would be sucking Mr. Fucks’ balls,” Captain O’Plenty said. “You would be at his service as well, him being my right hand man and all. Do you have a problem with that? I mean, we can find you another job if you won’t want to work with the cook.”

Piper didn’t know how to answer. How could she possibly begin to explain how turned on she had been by listening to the crew fuck? How could she tell them that she wanted all the terrible things that they had threatened her with? She didn’t have the words to express herself at all.

Piper decided that words wouldn’t work at all. The young woman crawled as fast as she could to Captain O’Plenty’s cunt. The Captain laughed as the girl pushed O’Plenty’s wet fingers away. On her hands and knees, Piper put her face the Captain’s cunt. The Captain’s laugh turned to a groan as Piper licked in earnest.

The young woman had never licked a woman before but she knew what she liked. Piper took long deep licks of O’Plenty’s cunt, flattening her tongue against the woman’s lips. The Captain tasted like nothing Piper had ever had before, but she knew that she liked it. She pressed her face against the Captain’s cunt, letting her lips and tongue express what words could not.

“Aye, she is a harlot at heart,” Captain O’Plenty said.

Piper felt the Captain’s hand press against her head. The rings on the Captain’s fingers snagged against her hair. The Captain pulled Piper’s head tighter to the Captain’s cunt. Powerful thighs enclosed around Piper’s head, securing her to the place that she most wanted to be.

“Any woman can lick a cunt,” Mr. Fucks said. “Well, any woman who’s had a few drinks and maybe a Catholic upbringing, but still, that doesn’t make one a harlot.”

“What would that take?” Captain O’Plenty said.

Piper licked faster.

“Harlots love cock!” the parrot cackled.

“Pussy is right,” Mr. Fucks said. “A real harlot likes a cunt and a cock at the same time.”

“Is that true, girl?” Captain O’Plenty said. “How do you feel about a cock in that small cunt of yours?”

Captain O’Plenty hadn’t released Piper’s head to let her answer. Piper wiggled her hips as suggestively as she could. It must have worked because she soon felt strong hands grab her hips.

“Permission to come aboard,” Mr. Fucks said.

“Permission granted,” Captain O’Plenty said.

A large cock pressed against Piper’s tight sex. She tilted her hips as his glorious girth entered her. It wasn’t as big as Ale Mug but by God, she was happy to have it.

“Jesus Christ and his sodomite disciples!” Mr. Fucks said. “The harlot’s hole is wetter than the ocean!”

“Her mouth isn’t so bad, either,” Captain O’Plenty said.

They stopped talking. Mr. Fucks fucked while Piper licked. Captain O’Plenty added another hand to Piper’s head, locking her into an inescapable embrace. Piper was reduced to a mouth and a cunt. She was there to be fucked. She was there to lick. She was there to be used by the two most powerful people on the ship.

Piper climaxed. Her arms and thighs trembled but she stayed on her hands and knees. She moaned her orgasm into the Captain’s cunt but the pirates didn’t stop. This wasn’t about her pleasure.

Mr. Fucks fucked her cunt. After weeks of neglect, Piper finally had a thick cock stretching her tiny body. He was a little too big, a little too fast and a little too rough but it was all perfect. Piper was finally being fucked.

Captain O’Plenty’s cunt rolled under Piper’s mouth. The Captain humped Piper’s face with a passion that Piper recognized in herself. The Captain needed to climax. Piper felt a glorious feeling in knowing that she alone was bringing about the Captain’s pleasure.

Piper always suspected that she was a harlot at heart. There was many a night at the tavern that she had snuck into the rooms of male guests and fucked them in the darkness. She thought she did it to distract herself from her dreary life but now she knew better. Piper did it because she liked it.

Trapped between a cock and cunt, Piper realized that she liked this better. This was the job that she wanted. She wanted to be a mouth. She wanted to be a cunt. Maybe tomorrow, she’ll just be an asshole for someone. Or maybe a pair of tits or a willing hand. Piper’s heart was racing from the possibilities. She had no desire to be a pirate. She wanted to be a pirate’s possession.

Mr. Fucks growled. His seed filled her cunt and triggered new desire in her. The thrusting stopped as his cock emptied inside her.

Captain O’Plenty spent seconds later. Her hands pulled Piper’s ears as she thrust her cunt against Piper’s face. Piper couldn’t breathe as her mouth and nose were covered with cunt and flesh. She was going to die, she knew it. She was going to die with seed in her cunt and cunt in her mouth. Piper didn’t mind.

Piper’s head was released. She could breathe again. She took long gasping breaths but she stayed on her hands and knees. It felt natural here.

“It looks like you got yourself a Cabin Girl,” Mr. Fucks said.

“I think you are right,” Captain O’Plenty said. “Well get to work, harlot. This place is a fucking mess.”

“Yes, Captain,” Piper said. She started to rise to her feet. The Captain planted her foot on Piper’s shoulder and forced her back down to her knees.

“No, stay on your knees,” the Captain said. “That is your place now.”

Piper couldn’t have been happier.

To read more stories from Tales of the Wild Kiss, purchase a copy here.

Buy Tales of the Wild Kiss

2011-08-01T08:21:00.004-05:00

My latest book, 'Tales of the Wild Kiss' is now available for purchase on Lulu. For $9.99, you can get a nice paperback book and for $2.99 you can get a pdf that you can read on your scifi data pads.

What is 'Tales of the Wild Kiss'? It is an anthology about events happening on a pirate ship during the Golden Age of Piracy in the Caribbean. The Captain is Kate O'Plenty, a fierce woman with big breasts and a bigger sexual appetite. The crew is made of men and women of different nationalities who fuck each other. There is also quite a bit of bloodshed, superstitions, drinking, cursing, bondage and more sex. Inside this book is twenty-one stories and three chanties. The chanties are in case you are ever aboard a raunchy pirate ship and you need a song to pass the time.

George Sportelli did the cover as well as several interior illustrations. Bridget and Daisy Danger combed through it and slaughtered as many typos as possible. I personally listened to the Monkey Island soundtrack, the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack and some filk singers to create as authentic a mood as possible.

Purchase a copy of Tales of the Wild Kiss by clicking the handy button below.

Fiction: Sample Test

2011-07-27T08:06:00.002-05:00

Dr. Pia Torres closed her eyes. In front of her, Test Volunteer #7 was starting to groan. She could hear him pump his cock faster as his orgasm came closer.

“Fuck!” Text Volunteer #7 cried out. A second later, the first hot splatter of semen landed on Dr. Torres’ forehead. Another splatter landed on her chin and a third splatter stuck to her cheek.

She kept her eyes closed as Text Volunteer #7 squeezed out every last drop of semen onto her face.

“Start now,” the computer said.

Dr. Torres reached for the bottle in front of her. Her eyes shut; she squirted the contents of Semen Deglazer Variant #7 into her hands. She rubbed the solution into her face and scrubbed. A rich lather formed that she hoped it would get all of the semen out.

She tilted her head towards the sink and splashed fresh water into her face. She opened her eyes and checked her face in the mirror.

Nope, still had a sticky strand on her forehead.

Dr. Torres applied more of Semen Deglazer Variant #7 and scrubbed again. In front of her, Test Volunteer #8 was stroking his cock and staring at her. She paused when she recognized him as Dr. Li from Robotics.

“Please keep cleaning,” Dr. Otto Von Madd reminded her.

“Yes, sir,” Dr. Torres said. She finished cleaning and dried her face. The test officially ended when she confirmed that all semen was gone from her face. The bottle of Semen Deglazer Variant #7 was moved by a robot hand and a bottle of Semen Deglazer Variant #8 was put in its place.

“Doctor Von Madd,” Dr. Torres said as Test Volunteer #8 stroked faster.

“Yes, Doctor?” Dr. Von Madd said. He never looked up from his desk.

“I am really sorry about the miscalculation in my report,” she said.

“Of course you are,” Dr. Von Madd said. “Bad science is a terrible thing and you will feel remorse for quite some time. It is perfectly natural.”

“Yes, sir,” Dr. Torres said. “I guess what I am saying is that I have learned my lesson and I don’t need to participate in the rest of these tests today.”

Dr. Von Madd looked up from his desk. His purple goggles looked at her without pity.

“Chin up, Dr. Torres,” Dr. Von Madd said. “There are only 92 more variants to test.”

Sheba's Menu

2011-07-25T09:33:00.001-05:00

Entrees

Double A’s – Two small burgers for those who like to put it all in their mouth at one time. Each burger has a thigh pressed meat patty, lettuce, cheese, onions and our special Sheba Sauce. There is no pickle. Who the $*#% eats pickles these days?

Junior Knockers – Two small burgers that are the same size as the Double A’s, but contain no onions or Sheba Sauce because some customers are afraid of flavor. Each burger still has a thigh pressed meat patty, lettuce and cheese.

Double Whammies – Two large burgers, each bigger than a handful. Each burger has a thigh pressed meat patty, lettuce, cheese, onions and our special Sheba Sauce. Still no pickle. Seriously, stop asking.

Nibbles- Eight chicken tenders you can’t wait to put between your lips! Comes with dipping sauce of your choice, Sheba Honey, Barbeque Babylon, Ranch Cream or Caribbean Sass.

Foot Solomon – A big hot dog for big appetites. Ladies love this succulent plump sausage crammed with flavor and meat. Men like it too and here at Sheba’s, we don’t judge! Put whatever you want in your mouth! It’s all about the love.

Foot Solomon come with Western Romp Chili on a toasted bun. If you ask for ketchup on this perfect dog, we just might hurt you.

Venus Salad- Other places offer stale salads crammed inside a boring plastic package. At Sheba’s, all our salads are made the moment you order them by a busty vegetarian that wants you to eat healthy. All Venus Salads contain three kinds of lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots croutons, and come in our special Venus Clam Bowl made of more lettuce but shaped like something that you will want to stick your whole face in. Comes with your choice of suggestive looking dark cheese shavings or not.

Dressings include Sheba House Italian, Ranch Cream, French Delight and Thousand Island because some of you are still eating Thousand Island because you had it as a kid and you have never tried another dressing, but $*#%, at least you are eating salad.

Sides

French Kisses – These fries are hand made in the back of the store by barely legal women who love potatoes. Infer from that what you will.

Nippy Tots – Deep-fried grated potato products shaped like the peak of Sheba’s breast.

Drinks

Sheba Juice – This special blend of five fruits squeezed between the massive breasts of a Sheba employee will quench your thirst and run down your chin.

Sheba Juice has been scientifically proven to improve the flavor of your sexual discharges. (Ref. Von Madd Blind Taste Tests of 2011)

Sheba Shake- No other restaurant can offer a milkshake shook between the thighs of a Sheba employee while she sits in our special Spinner Seat. Each cup comes with a signed photograph of the Sheba employee with your shake between her legs.

Flavors are Chocolate Heaven, Vanilla Daydream and Strawberry Romp

Soda- Sheba’s does not carry soda. For real. That ^$#% is not good for you. We do this because we care about you.

Dessert

Thong Sunday – Two scoops of your choice of vanilla or chocolate ice cream, topped with whipped cream, caramel and a special collector thing worn by a Sheba’s employee. Collect all sixty-nine!

Lubinex

2011-07-22T07:24:00.001-05:00

Lubinex is a popular sexual lubricant introduced five years ago to the Euphorian people. Three times as slippery as the next leading product, Lubinex is also highly regarded for its pleasant fruity flavor. After five minutes of physical contact, users will experience low level empathetic bonds. In short, the fornicators will experience what the other is experiencing. The frequency of simultaneous orgasms is greatly increased.

It was discovered by the conquestship, Violatrix, on the distant planet of Fecond Seven. Appearing as a sort of slime, it occurs naturally on the surface of the ponds and lakes of the world. Science officers on board the Violatrix quickly determined the sexual applications of the slippery slime. The Captain ordered that as much of the slime as possible be gathered and brought back to Euphoria.

Queen Erishella wisely changed the name of the slime from Sample 34S to the much more market friendly name of Lubinex. The Queen also ordered the mass importation of the slime and declared a monopoly on the production and selling of Lubinex to the galaxy.

Recent research suggests that the empathy qualities of the slime were due to the sentience of the slime trying to make contact with the people using it for fornication. Although no one has been able to establish any meaningful communication with Lubinex, the news of its apparent sentience increased sales 34%. Experts believe that this is due to the Euphorian preference of having an audience during sex.

Clean up is easy. A hypersonic pulse disintegrates all traces of Lubinex leaving the skin and genitals untouched.

--Euphorian Gazetteer

Fiction: Society of Ruthless Journalists

2011-07-20T08:21:00.000-05:00

“Wakey, wakey, ‘allo, ‘allo!”

Holly Valentine opened her eyes. It was pitch dark except for the tiny amount of moonlight coming from the ceiling of wherever she was. The floor underneath her felt like metal. The smell of chloroform made her nauseous.

“Who the fuck uses chloroform these days?” Holly groaned. She sat up and her head swam. At least, she thought everything swam; it was hard to tell in the dark.

“I know, right?” someone said close to her. He had a sexy British accent, like James Bond about to get laid. “There are at least seven other more effective drugs to incapacitate someone.”

“Come now, chloroform is a classic,” the voice on top said. He had a similar British accent but his accent was more uptight butler.

“Oh shit, that’s right,” Holly said. “I’m in Britain. I was covering the phone hacking scandal where all those shit reporters hacked people’s phones to get their stories. Fuck, chloroform messes with a girl’s head.”

“Hey!” the voice on top said. “We are not shit reporters! You are talking to a member of the Society of Ruthless Journalists! And you, my American tramp, have been captured and will be disposed of!”

“The who to the what now? Holly said.

“The Society of Ruthless Journalists is a centuries old organization,” the sexy voice beside her said. “They dig up dirt and splash it on their front pages but never dirt on their corporate masters. No, they only exploit the rich and famous who offend the corporate line.”

“Oh, we just call them cable news people where I come from,” Holly said.

“Right, now that we made introductions,” the voice above them said. “Here’s how it goes. You are in an abandoned train car in the middle of a deserted quarry. No one will hear your cries for help. You will die of starvation while me and my mates tell the world that you two eloped and went on a whirlwind honeymoon. There may be sex with donkeys included in the story. We’ll make a mint selling papers about your sordid sex lives while you die here and incidentally, don’t do anymore investigating into the phone hacking business. I get a promotion and maybe an editor’s position and Bob’s your uncle, understand?”

“Wait? You’re going to kill an American reporter just to cover your dirty work?” Holly said.

“Love, you ain’t the first batch of bodies this night,” the voice said. “Right, goodbye. And you too, Johnny!”

The opening sealed above them. Holly heard the sound of the man climbing down the side of the car. She also heard him curse a little as he fell.

“That’s it?” Holly said. It was so dark that Holly couldn’t see her hands but she knew her fellow captive could hear her. “They didn’t even tie me up. I mean, they expect us to die of starvation? Shit, they didn’t even add some poison gas or maybe fill the cart with water? This is a terrible excuse for a deathtrap.”

“They are shit reporters,” the voice said.

The British accent sent a shiver down Holly’s spine. “Wait, I know that voice. He called you Johnny. Are you Johnny Jones? The reporter giving the phone hacking so much coverage right now?”

“Yes, miss,” the voice said. “I am assuming by your colorful language and defiant tone that you are Holly Valentine, reporter for INX?”

“Holy shit!” Holly said. “I am such a big fan of yours! That expose you wrote on subliminal advertising in singing competitions was awesome!”

“Thank you, Miss Valentine,” Johnny said. “I found your piece on HMO’s and their price jacking to be brilliant. Simply brilliant.”

“Damn, I wish there was some light in here,” Holly said. “I finally get to meet a colleague that I like and I am stuck in the dark.”

“Yes, at least we will be spared the indignity of looking badly while we die,” Johnny said.

“So, these reporters really will leave us to die?” Holly asked.

“Oh yes,” Johnny said. “The Society is made up of lazy reporters but they have a long history of killing. They once kidnapped and tortured a woman just to make her soccer player husband give then an interview. Death is old hat to them.”

Holly sat on that information for a few minutes. “Mr. Jones?” Holly said.

“Please, call me Johnny,” he said.

“Okay, Johnny. And please call me Holly. I wonder if you could do something for me?”

“Certainly Holly. Are you cold? I don’t have my jacket but perhaps my shirt could give you comfort.”

“No, I’m not cold,” Holly said. “I was wondering, since we are going to die here and all, if you could help me fulfill a lifelong dream?”

There was a pause. “I don’t think I have much in my power at the moment to grant wishes, Holly.”

“Actually, my dream was to sit on the face of a reporter that I admire,” Holly said.

“Oh,” Johnny said.

“Since we are going to die and all,” Holly said.

“Beastly business that,” Johnny said. “In the interest of global cooperation among colleagues and granting the wish of a condemned woman, I can not help but comply.”

“Right-o!” Holly said in her best British accent.

“Right, and don’t do that ever again,” Johnny said.

“Sorry,” Holly said. “It’s hard. You hear all these accents and you just want to join in.” She crawled in the darkness towards his voice.

“True, I have a friend who does a Texas accent every time he watches your cop shows,” Johnny said.

She found him. Broad shoulders, some slight stubble on his face and an interesting crooked nose. She pushed him gently down to the metal floor.

“You were serious about sitting on my face?” Johnny said. “I thought that might be some American phrase.”

“I’m a good reporter, I tell the truth,” Holly said.

Holly was wearing a pair of green panties when she was captured but she discarded them now in record time. Thank God that she was wearing a skirt. It was a bit chilly and Holly was glad for every bit of warmth she could get. In a moment, she planned to get a lot of it.

She climbed onto Jimmy’s head. The British hunk was on his back and his hands guided her onto him. Fingers that had typed the downfall of the rich and powerful pushed her ass right where it needed to be.

The first contact of tongue against her sex was electric. Holly moaned as his tongue worked its way inside her. She gripped his hair and pressed against him. Fact to cunt, she was right where she wanted to be.

It was cold in the train car but it was so damn hot between Holly’s thighs. The car blocked the sounds of the outside world so that the only thing she could hear was the sound of his tongue lapping away at her. She stared as hard as she could into the darkness and tried to see even a glimmer of the delight occurring beneath her.

Johnny’s fingers grabbed her ass. She moaned as he held onto her. Johnny was pulling her harder against his, trying to get more of her into his mouth. He moaned and she felt every moan on her sex.

Holly wanted to return the favor but it felt too fucking good to move. She couldn’t believe that her favorite reporter was eating her out like she was his last meal. Well, she kind of was but that wasn’t important. What mattered was staying right here and enjoying his mouth. If she moved, it might dispel this wonderful dreamlike that she was in.

It didn’t take her long. Hell, she had been clenching ever since she first heard his voice in the train car. She was wet, horny and eager. She would have climaxed if she had just ridden his nose but no, Johnny Jones had to be an excellent pussy licker as well. She had one more talent of his to admire.

“Brilliant!” Holly cried out. She climaxed on Johnny’s face. Her thighs clenched around him and she humped his face as she rode her orgasm. Johnny, being the excellent reporter that he was, kept licking till the job was done.

“Oh, that was awesome,” Holly said as she slumped off his face.

“That was fucking awesome,” Johnny said. There was a sexy growl to his already sexy British accent.

“Yeah, it was,” Holly said. “Wait a second.”

Holly reached around till she found her purse. As she expected, her cell phone was missing. Her lipstick was still there, which meant the Society of Ruthless Journalists were just as sloppy as she had come to expect.

A turn of the lipstick base and a small acetylene torch flared to life. Sitting next to her was Johnny Jones. His face was soaked.

“Bloody hell,” Johnny said.

“It’ll take a few seconds to cut through the train car,” Holly said. She went to work on their escape.

“And you had this the whole time?” Johnny said.

“Of course,” Holly said. “I just wanted to sit on my idol’s face first. If we escaped, you might have done something silly like try to file your story first.”

“Makes sense,” Johnny said. He pulled something out of his sock. “It was why I was holding off on activating my emergency tracker.”

Holly laughed. “How long will it take for a rescue?”

“Ten minutes I except,” Johnny said.

Holly nodded. “Once we get out into the moonlight, let’s see how fast I can suck you off before help arrives.”

“Ye-haw,” Johnny said in a terrible Texas accent.

“Wow, don’t ever say that again,” Holly said.

“Sorry,” Johnny said.

Victory at First Draft

2011-07-18T06:58:00.002-05:00

This weekend I finished the first draft of the Violatrix novel. That is some sort of a record for me. By my sloppy notes, I think I started writing on June 23rd, and I wrapped it up on Juy 16th. That is less than a month with 16 chapters to show for it. Not fucking bad at all.

It helps that I spent a year thinking about this story. I had a rough idea for a bdsm starship and way back in August 2010, I made my first attempt at an outline. I still had the Island Princess book to finish, and then I had inspiration for Pusse' and Cox and wanted to act on it. The Violatrix was the project I kept punting on, thinking I would get to it later. After punting it a few times, I began to wonder if I really wanted to write it.

That might be a bit hard for readers to understand. As a writer, I can love the idea of a book I want to read but it might not be something I want to write. I'd love to read the erotic adventures of Irene Adler for example, but the thought of writing Victorian mystery erotica is just beyond my ability. It would be too much work for it to be fun. I began to fear that maybe I was subconsciously avoiding the Violatrix.

The best cure for a fear is confronting it head on. I gave myself a buffer of five stories to post on Wednesdays so that I would have 5 weeks of no excuses. I adopted the attitude that writing a first draft that could be revised later was better than writing a first draft that was perfect the first time around. I gave myself permission to make mistakes as long as I was just writing.

So I wrote, I wrote and I wrote some more. The speed required fast decisions. I completely deleted a science character I had in mind because I recognized that he was a personal indulgence on my part that did nothing for the story. One character got red skin because everyone looked a bit too human for my tastes. Another character became part of a royal family.

Often when I write a novel, I go through a phase where I can't stand the story anymore. It is because I am so deep inside the story that I see all the flaws and failed aspirations and no longer see it as a story. I think it also just comes down to exhaustion. I didn't reach that with this story and that is amazing to me. I am sure I will during the revisions but to escape the first draft still fond of it is new for me. I like it.

Another amusing side effect is the havoc that writing this fast played on my ending. On the Violatrix, the crew are the ones most likely to kill each other. I didn't want to fall into the Star Trek trap of eight invincible crew members. I want to shake the cast up with every story if I write this as a series. I had a list of characters to die and by the time I reached the end, I had a new set of characters in mind. I think the speed writing turned the story into an audition. By the time I reached the end, I knew who just didn't click as a character and I never wanted to write again, and I knew the character that was so interesting that they had to die to complete their story arc.

Now it's time to put the book away and work on other things. Like that pirate anthology which I really need to put the finishing touches. Shit, I also don't have a story for this Wednesday. At this point, the idea of someone else writing that short story would be my idea of porn.

"Oh master, I will be your slave and do anything you want! do you want a blowjob? How about anal? Should I call my sister?"

"Slave, write a short story and make it funny. This I command."

Fiction: Jack Shadow

2011-07-13T08:58:00.001-05:00

A hard working man all his life, Jack Loken was murdered by his corporate bosses for knowing too much. Raised back to life and granted mysterious powers by the enigmatic God in Purple, Jack now steals from the rich and corrupt. He terrorizes the wealthy inhabitants of Comfort Bay as Jack Shadow!

Jack stood at the corner of Hughes and Cho. Before him was the Doch Building, home to the rich and decadently wealthy. It was forty stories of pampered rich people, high tech security and quite a few steroid fuelled security guards. Jack’s goal was the penthouse, home to famous Comfort Bay socialite and gossip queen, Colleen Bulmer.

“Easy as nightfall,” Jack said.

The darkness wrapped around Jack. Shadows pulled from the walls and covered him from head to toe. He stood next to a street lamp but the light avoided him. Instead of a man, there was now only a shifting patch of night.

With a thought, he headed up. It wasn’t the clumsy flight of heroes with their jetpacks or their mutant wings. When Jack flew, he simply moved. One moment he was on the street, and the next he was hurling upwards as fast as the absence of light.

Jack stepped out of the darkness when he reached the penthouse patio. The shadows clung to him, teasing behind him and shrouding him in night. He tried the patio door. It was locked.

“Well, there are super villains around,” Jack whispered to himself. He did a slight turn and suddenly he was as thin as shadow. He sidestepped through the crack in the door and once on the other side, he returned to his normal body.

It was midnight and the lights were off. Jack could see in the dark as easily as he once could see in the day. He looked around for his prize, the legendary Moon Opal necklace, recently purchased by the ridiculously wealthy Colleen Bulmer. He knew a fence that could sell it on the black market for some much needed cash for the homeless shelters of Comfort Bay.

A light turned on. Jack spun on his heels towards the source of the light.

“Here they are,” a woman said from the doorway. It was Colleen, and she was wearing the fabulously expensive necklace around her neck. She also was not wearing anything else. Her full body was shamelessly naked, from her heavy breasts to her wide hips down to her plentiful thighs. Her golden blonde hair was piled delicately above her head in a hairdo that probably cost what some people pay for mortgages. She was a stunning display of decadence.

“Hand them over,” Jack growled. The shadows swirled around him. The room dimmed as he absorbed the light. His hands were sheathed in claws made of midnight.

“No,” Colleen said.

“No?” Jack said with a deeper growl. He came closer, hovering inches above the ground.

“I want you to take them from me,” Colleen said. She had shaking as she spoke. “I have heard of you. Sarah Blochman told me. So did Mary Turner and Victoria Wu.”

Jack of Shadows stopped in mid-air. Oh. Jack was a scary man. He stole from the rich and invaded people’s homes. He violated the sanctity of mansions and desecrated the privacy of the powerful. Men were terrified of him but women? Women tended to be turned on.

“I told them not to tell anyone,” Jack growled. Shadows crept across the floor towards Colleen. The woman stood her ground. There was a bit more fear on her face. Jack liked that.

“They had to tell me,” Colleen said. She took a step back. “They said that you used them. They said that you fucked them like they had never been fucked before. They said that you stole their most valuable possessions, but it was worth it.”

It was true. Rich women liked Jack but Gods help him, he fucking loved them. After years of working in the factory and then cursed to this twilight existence of night and thievery, Jack found that rich women did things to his cock that he never would have imagined.

“Is that why you bought the Moon Opal necklace?” Jack asked. “Is that why you had it shipped from Cairo to your home here? Was it just bait for me?”

“Yes,” Colleen said. “I knew it wou-“

He was on her. He was weightless as his body attached to hers. His hand groped her breast while another hand grabbed her ass like a possession. Her moans were choked by his mouth, stealing kisses from her lips like a bank robber.

She stumbled back. His body was a shadow on hers but he was pushing her. Shadows wrapped around her body, biting and nibbling every inch of her body. The darkness was an extension of him, so it bit her thighs, bit her plump breasts and caressed her wide hips.

Jack let Colleen make it to her bed. She fell backwards on onto it as Jack solidified on top of her. She gasped as his weight pressed down on her. He stopped kissing her so that he could take her nipple into his mouth.

He bit down as hard as he could.

By the God in Purple, he loved real women. In his line of work, he ran into plenty of super heroines with their toned muscular bodies and their asses carved of granite but what he craved was weight. He loved the feeling of soft skin, pliant breasts and thighs that he could lose himself in forever.

Jack released her tit from his mouth. He looked at Colleen’s gasping face in the darkness. She was scared. She was turned on. The Moon Opal Necklace glittered on her chest. She could have spent her money helping people but instead she was buying herself a night of passion.

Jack hated her.

Jack couldn’t wait to fuck her.

He kicked her thighs open though they would have parted if he had asked. He thrust inside her. A touch of shadow and his cock expanded inside her. He watched in delight as Colleen’s body arched from the perfect penetration.

“Oh my God!” Colleen cried.

“Not your God,” Jack snarled. He pumped his hips, thrusting deep and hard into the rich slut’s pussy.

Jack did wonder about his patron. The mysterious God in Purple never explained why he brought Jack back to life and gave him these powers. Jack assumed it was to right wrongs. Certainly it couldn’t be to fuck horny women with too money?

Could it?

Colleen shuddered and Jack forgot all about his patron. He turned his focus back to taking this woman. Shadows slipped out of his body and returned to ravishing her. Tendrils made of darkness wrapped around her ankles and spread her legs apart. Snapping shadows bit her nipples and ample breasts. As his cock thrust into her, another shadow probed into her anus. Jack of Shadows fucked her ass and her pussy with each thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Colleen cried.

Jack was offended by her bliss. He put his hand over her mouth, the darkness sealing over her mouth better than any gag. Her eyes widened and he suspected that she was enjoying it. Jack decided to pretend that she wasn’t.

He kept fucking her. Her shadows wrapped tighter around her and nibbled wherever his desires directed. He was in her pussy. He was in her ass. As the shadows pushed past her lips, he was even in her mouth.

He fucked her ruthlessly because she was wasteful with her money.

He fucked her ruthlessly because she had the arrogance to lure him here.

He fucked her ruthlessly because she was a big woman and he loved their bodies.

After a time, he came. Supernaturally charged bodies take a while to climax and by the time he was through, the first rays of dawn were sneaking into the bedroom. It had been a long night and Jack had made the most of every second. He was sure that Colleen had climaxed several times but it couldn’t be helped. The important thing was that he came between those lovely thick thighs.

When his cock had drained itself inside her pussy, Jack of Shadows began to drift away. The rising of the sun meant that he would return to his grave, unable to act until nightfall returned. It was a strange life, but the nights more than made up for it. He tore the Moon Opal necklace from her body, carrying with him as he vanished.

As for Colleen, she stayed in bed and tried to catch her breath. Every part of her body had been pinched and bitten. Her ass was tender, her jaw was sore and her pussy ached from a long night of sex. The rich socialite laughed in the empty bedroom as the sun came up. People complained about the crime in Comfort Bay, but some crime was certainly better than others.

Farmer's Daughter Almanac Call For Recipes

2011-07-11T06:19:00.003-05:00

The Farmer's Daughter's Almanac is a book I plan to put out in 2012 at cost. It will feature contributions from anyone who wants to contribute and because it will be at cost, I won't make any money and neither will the contributors. It will be fun though, right?

One thing I would like to add is recipes. This is your chance to be your own erotic Paula Dee, pornographic Julia Child or dirty minded Rachel Ray. The food itself doesn't have to be erotic in nature. If you want to give a recipe for pasta salad, that's fine. The running joke is that the recipes are so good that you can be forgiven major transgressions just because it tastes so good.

Example : Sorry I Fucked Your Brother Apple Pie.

I am going to excerpt a recipe from the wonderful t'Sade as a style guide

"The first step is to get all the ingredients somewhere between room temperature. Cheesecake melts together a lot better when everything is warm and pliable. When the cream cheese is as soft as a woman's breast, get ready to turn up the heat."

Now granted, if you are more of a reader as opposed to a writer and just want to send in your divine recipes, go right on ahead. Our team of dirty minded writers can jazz your recipe up and you still get full credit. If you don't want your real name listed, knock yourself out and create your own sexy pseudonym. Have fun with it.

So send in your favorite recipe(s) to shon.richards at gmail.com and for the love of plump asses, please put Farmer or Daughter in the subject line so I will catch it.

*image is from the marvelous Marcus Ranum

Erotica Threat Level: Three Day Weekend Blue

2011-07-07T21:53:00.004-05:00

I am going on a 3-day weekend. I am visiting my mother in North Carolina and will be sure to suffer about a dozen flashbacks from childhood. There may be a trip to the beach involved. I am terribly excited.

I don't think I will have internet for the trip, which is a bit inconceivable. I will be taking the laptop so hopefully I can keep doing my three pages a day.

I have a fraction of an idea that could either be a cute short story or another damn novel. It involves summer. It involves bdsm. The big concern I have is that the last time two times I did summer bdsm stores was BDSM beach and Beach Volleyball Madd-ness. Neither story seemed all that popular and it makes me a smidge hesitant. I'll have to think about it.

You know, I used to think that the biggest crime of erotica writers was their tendency to take a short story idea and stretch it out into a long unnecessary novel with a predictable pornographic path. In other words, the character gets introduced to sex, the character experiments, the character falls in love, the character gets conflicted, and finally a happy orgy. I still feel that way but there is something nice and rich about a novel following one character. I used to call those 'coming of slut' stories and I think they have their place. At 38 years old though, I suspect I should be writing about something else though. If 'coming of slut' is what young people read to feel good about themselves and older people read to get back in touch with your young selves, then what is the sex story of people my age?

I should really not be thinking these thoughts while writing about a space crew trying to murder their captain.