So I’m planning out my projects in some sort of orderly fashion. Here’s what’s coming down the pipe. I have a bunch of fiction to bang out, as well as some vanilla things, and best of all, this Halloween a kinky party. Woo, private decadent fun!
First, for contest winners, 3 different 500 word stories…
Mikey: The epilogue to super porn.
JT: A night out is a slow burn tease.
G Loss: Pick something! Come on!
The last 20K words of Catamite, concluding the story.
Followed by a few ideas- what do you guys think would make a good ebook next?
1) A dominant woman has a first date with a substandard sub and gives the waiter her number instead, hijinks ensue.
2) She goes to discuss her grade with her TA- only she’s graduated and she wants him for her sub.
3) He’s completely naked at a party at her say so, and is utterly humiliated while watching her.
4) Two shy lovers both into BDSM confess their kinks to their partner, thinking the other to be pure vanilla.
5) He gives himself to her for the holidays, as her Christmas Slave [This one is about 1/4 written].
6) In the spacefaring future, a captured human researcher is forced to teach an alien planet’s primitive tribal queen about his culture’s secrets, while providing a sexual awakening for her.
He watched as Annette dressed, filament fine stockings drawn on with protective gloves as the roughness of bare fingers would ladder the knit instantly, clipped to the garters of the girdle, beige tinted elastic panels containing and lifting her, smoothing the child worn belly, hoisting her breasts and pushing her ribs down. Like a woman of his class letting herself be seen with a bare face, as an unmarried man it was another mystery Annette had initiated him into, the hooks and straps that held the daughters, mothers and wives of great men ridged backed and tight around the abdomen, each point of restraint giving just enough that the body could move, but collaborating together to hold the woman up so no muscle could let itself rest untightened or sigh and shrug could excuse a slouch. Read more
Phillip lay face down on his bed, lying on a new feather pillow with his battered ass still throbbing. There’d been light pain killers with his meal, and the ache was bearable afterwards. He’d taken a worse beating in the hands of the guards back in prison, with their fists and boots, but this was another novelty that was still threatening, but rather than giving him pride in his conviction it made him ashamed and awkward.
Capital city prostitutes that catered to the jaded tastes of metropolitan clients would offer flogging and binding as a novelty service. He’d been exposed to that once, mid way through university when he went out whoring with his friends and a plump woman with two bow decorated braids had tried claiming to be a bad little girl in need of a spanking. He’d passed her over in favour of a less creative red head with more straight forward services and put it out of his mind as a weird perversion some men paid for, but now he wondered if he should have learned more about the practice.
There is someone out there, throwing up his stories onto his blog all for free, writing my sexuality, my approach to things, all exactly how I want them to be.
I wish someone with a camera and a couple of nice models would take the time to recreate half the scenes he delivers up. I wish more porn had that loving eye for detail, that level of talent and the right sort of connection. It’s not the usual lump of over ripe male flesh served up on a platter of snarling ineffectual pro-tops, selling the fantasy of them and their corsets and untouchability, while daintily trying to tread around the unfortunate presence of their victim. It’s female doms who fuck, but not out of contractual obligation, it’s pain, but pain expressed so good I get the same sadist empathy shivers just from reading.
I wish I could pick out my favourites, but there’s so many I’d have to list half his catalogue. He just throws them up without a second thought, as if it were nothing special to be tossing off weekly little projects, no cross referencing or tagging either. But just for an example, try this one, Eye Candy. Note the way he makes the act of dressing up seem very real and human, and manages to build up the eroticism from the imperfections and lapses inherent in real life. Or this inventive creation that manages to make filling your bathtub with dirt seem like a good idea. Or this one, still something I think about, which matches scene realism and romanticism with rather a lot of pain, Every Square Inch.