Tuesday 8th August 2017

Monique Alexander… because she’s gorgeous!

So yeah… the epic 2000+ words sex scene.  Bit of a marathon, that.  Certainly in terms of the writing.  When you get to read it, you’ll hopefully notice that I tried to keep it interesting by swapping viewpoint and going into first person via the two protagonists’ thoughts.

This writing erotica isn’t the easiest thing to do.  I’m learning a lot from reading some of the amateur stuff that’s out there on Literotica.com and also stuff I’ve picked up from Amazon’s Kindle store by the likes of Narcissa Rivers, SL Hadley and Emma Tilton.

The thing about reading other people’s stuff is that you learn what works for you and what doesn’t.  You can then use that to inform how you write.  They can also show you how NOT to write.  One of the above authors definitely has moments of that.  Usually where their use of words lets them down, making things a little… twee.  For one of the worst examples of twee-ness, I can excuse it by referencing the POV character.  It’s how they probably would have put something, but when that carries across… Nah.  Then again, the author in question does keep their stuff readable and manages to create situations where the readers do want to know what happens next.

I know I’ve probably absorbed some of the style of all three of those writers mentioned above as well as the likes of Warren Ellis, Mike Carey, Douglas AdamsMichael Moorcock, Terry Pratchett and everyone else whose work I’ve ever read.

The porn-y bits, though, are largely from my own experience and imagination.  They always say to write from experience, and since I’ve actually had sex, I can draw on that.  OK, it’s never been as kinky as some of the stuff I’ve written, but that’s where imagination is used to extrapolate from experience. Some authors who shall remain nameless, but have multi-million dollar adaptations made of their modified Twi-shite slash fic don’t seem to have had that experience and rely on a not particularly active imagination…

One thing that’s worth mentioning is that when you’re writing this sort of thing, watching porn definitely helps.  It’s more to do with camera angles and making the scene hold together more than what happens in the scene.  There’s a certain narrative flow that the readers have come to expect.  Usually because that’s how actual sex tends to go, and porn is a fantastical version of what tends to go on, rather than being an accurate depiction.  After all, since when has real sex ever gone on for 20-odd minutes once arousal has been achieved on both sides?

So that’s something of a rambling glimpse into how I write erotica (or porn – although since I’m actually using imagination and depicting it with a medium of some kind, it can legitimately be called art).  Why not have a go?

If you’re wondering why there’s a photo of Monique Alexander on this post… I’m a real sucker for a girl with purple hair.  Or any sort of non-natural colour (we’re talking shades of blue, red and purple).  Tattoos are definitely a bonus and are part of my personal turn-ons list, but only if well done.

Buy my porn! I’ve written some smut. Here’s the links:
Wild Caught Are Always Better       Amazon    |    Smashwords

Monday 7th August 2017

Monday 7th August 2017

There’s not many porn stars I’ll follow on Twitter.  Mostly because a lot of them use their Twitter feed purely for plugging appearances on the likes of OnlyFans.  Which is fair enough, since they’re all self-employed, so need to get their brand out there.

That puts Samantha Mack in the same category as the likes of Missy Martinez, Harriet SugarCookie, Alexxa Vice and Amber Ivy.

But just in terms of the sort of thing you want from a porn star… check out the rack!

Anyway, I’ve always had a bit of a thing for brunettes.  I married one, for example.

Here’s a link to her personal website.  Remember kids, #payforyourporn

Buy my porn! I’ve written some smut. Here’s the links:
Wild Caught Are Always Better       Amazon    |    Smashwords

Thursday 3rd August 2017

Just to prove I’m capable of writing more than kinky lesbian, toy-based and forced sex, here’s the build-up to some hetero action from Breaking The Chains

Shan is based physically on Jasmine James
Shan, physically based on Jasmine James

Shan’s tongue played over her lips as she started to walk slowly towards where her young partner was stood.  The way she walked made her hips swing seductively as she approached.  Jamie could smell her perfume and something else buried deep.  Her gloved fingers slid slowly up the skintight slick material that made up her camosuit, caressing her curves as they moved upwards from her belt, taking time over her toned abs and across her right breast and the lump that hinted at a piercing there, before she took the zip between her thumb and first finger and slowly slid it down, one set of teeth at a time.

By the time Shan was within touching distance of her young partner, her suit was unzipped to her waist.  Jamie had a close-up view of her full breasts and silky skin, slightly slick with perspiration from the suit.  She reached out and her fingers made contact with his chest.  His pectoral muscle twitched involuntarily at the caress.  Shan’s eyes flicked down to his crotch and a slight smile played across her lips as she noticed a familiar shape beginning to form.  Her eyes moved back up his body, taking in every contour, past the wiry stubble on his face, up into his pale blue eyes.

With a gentle push, Shan steered Jamie towards the wall, her eyes locked onto his.  Her other hand, still gloved, traced the opposite path to her eyes, ending on her partner’s rapidly swelling manhood.  With practised ease, she unfastened his belt and the fasteners on the lower half of his camosuit with one hand whilst gently and seductively stroking her fingers across his face, tracing the line of his cheekbones, curving around the back of his ear and down onto his neck.

Obviously I’ve not even got to the actual sex yet.

This, as you probably know, is an excerpt from the sequel to Wild Caught Are Always Better, which you can buy for your Kindle from here, if you’re in the USA, from here if you’re in the UK or here if you’re in Canada.  Of course you can also buy the paperback version from any of those links, too.  You can also buy the novella in epub format from Smashwords, where it is currently reduced in price by 50% until 20th August.

Saturday 22nd July 2017

I’ve sold copies of Wild Caught Is Always Better!

People… REAL people… have actually spent REAL MONEY on buying my writing!

One person bought a copy on Smashwords yesterday (where I’m currently running a 50% discount offer until a week on Monday), and one bought a copy on Kindle today.

Got to say it… I’m a bit chuffed about that.

Hope they liked it…  Why don’t you click either of the links and see what you’re missing out on?

Friday 20th July 2017

Friday 20th July 2017

Chester Bennington hanged himself.

His depression finally managed to get past his last defences and managed to do the same thing to him that it had done to Chris Cornell, Robin Williams and hundreds of other people across the world.  It’s tragedy.

But you know what’s worse?  Especially for those of us who are, right at this moment, very much aware that one day, that could be us?  The whole “he was selfish” narrative.

No.  Let’s just end that here.  No.  Definitely not.  No matter what they say, these people have never, ever had even an hour of REAL depression in their lives.  For which they should be eternally grateful.

Depression is that constant companion whispering in your ear so it gets into your subconscious.  It tells you that you’re not worth it.  That your friends aren’t really your friends, they’re just taking pity on you.  You don’t really matter to them at all.  It will also attempt to convince you that your family would be better off it you weren’t there anymore.  They’d be better still if you were dead.  Then they wouldn’t have to worry about you coming back and fucking up their lives yet again.

Another thing I get sick of hearing is “why didn’t they get help?”

Part of going really deep into depression is that you believe that there is no help for you.  It doesn’t even occur to you to try and get it because you don’t actually think there’s anything wrong with you.  Looking back, before I started getting treatment, I said and did some awful things to various people for literally just being somewhere I didn’t want them to be.

We need to have friends who will stick by us.  People who will be there to drag us out of the house and just be there to make sure we don’t do anything stupid in the guise of making everyone’s life better.  We won’t ask for help.  You’ll never know how badly a person with depression is because we’re experts at hiding it from the outside world.  We don’t want to burden anyone else with our problems.

Sorry friends and loved ones.  It’s down to you.  You’ll have to push us to get help.  Don’t stop until the treatment is underway and keep pushing.  We may not think we’re worth the hassle, but so long as there’s someone there to care enough, we might just get through this.

Thursday 20th July 2017: Chapter Preview

Thursday 20th July 2017: Chapter Preview

Some more news before we get to the good stuff:

Wild Caught Is Always Better is now available on Smashwords.  Click on the link and use FC72K at checkout to get 50% off the $1.99 price.

If you prefer your erotica to come in an analogue rather than digital form, here’s the link you can use to buy the paperback edition.

Thanks again to Holly Hendrix for supporting this publication by retweeting things I’ve posted about Wild Caught

So without further ado, here it is… The opening chapter of the sequel to Wild Caught Is Always Better , Breaking The Chains


Flora smiled.

Her two new slaves were working rather well now she’d broken that little slut Lauren, or 255B/D as she was now known, in.  Now she’d taken her off the artificial hormones, her breasts were going back to their original size, but that hadn’t been the point.  The little slut had been fastened into a milking machine and shown off in front of everyone.  Flora had even managed to link the feed from the security cameras into any number of porn sites.

Once she’d got the petite girl into her house, Flora had put her in training to become her slave.  She’d been surprised how quickly the training had taken, to be honest.  Lauren had always seemed like such a wilful little cunt, yet she succumbed to humiliation and degradation without any kind of fight.  It was almost as if she enjoyed it.

She certainly seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time wet around the pussy.

Flora had no idea why the men at the dairy lusted after Lauren more than her.  Flora had spent an awful lot of time and money on making her body perfect, from breast implants to liposuction to vaginal tightening surgery, all to become irresistible, so she could fuck her way through the plant.

Flora was 5’ 8” with immaculately-styled platinum blond hair.  Her body was curvaceous but also very well-toned and tanned, Mother Nature being helped by surgery, artificial hormones and a splash of genetic engineering.  She spent a couple of hours a day in her personal gym fucking her instructors, so her body was tight as that much exertion would allow.  Plus the implants helped, of course, both structural and chemical.

All that money to make herself into the perfect woman and then some nasty little all-natural teenaged tart swept in and obviously fucked every single one of them.  Some slutty little bitch of an apprentice who arrived on her first morning at the Cattle Market.  HER Cattle Market.

How could a skinny little sixteen-year-old skank compete with her?  She’d even managed to generate the rumour that Lauren had fucked Flora’s husband.  And sister.

What made Flora giggle like a little schoolgirl was that she was an only child and wasn’t even married, and she was believed!

It didn’t matter anymore because Flora owned little slag.  Literally owned.  She even had the paperwork to prove it.

Who would she play with today…?

The slave she’d decided to call 255B/D or the hucow she came in with, 254B/D?  That hucow… it was stunning to look at for a start.  Long red hair cascading down in ringlets, soft, white almost alabaster skin, and those tits and arse… she felt a little dampness between her legs just thinking about the hucow and what it could do to her when it wasn’t being milked.

It’s milk was creamy and plentiful and as a dairy owner, Flora Baker knew all about hucows.  She’d have to give Mr… whatever his name was… a big fat bonus the next time he came.  She might even let him violate and do whatever the hell he wanted to 255B/D.

Talking of 255B/D…

“Cumslut!” yelled Flora.

255B/D came running out of the kitchen and skidded to a halt on her knees with her hands on her head, legs spread to show off the branding mark on her pubic mound.  Lauren was only 4’ 10”.  She had a slight, athletic frame and was almost flat chested.  Before the hormone treatments to make her lactate, her breasts had been barely there at all.  Now though, she had small pert tits with dark brown areolas around the size of bottle caps and seemingly permanently erect nipples.

Her olive skin glistened with sweat following her exertions running across the room after being made to fellate the entire workforce of the dairy whilst being fucked in whatever hole they wanted from behind.

Flora had been tempted to give her to the foreman to arsefuck until she bled (he had a tendency to not use lube so he could use a slave’s blood as lubricant), but she needed the little cumslut for another reason.  She just hadn’t thought of it yet.

Hanging from 255B/D’s clit was the large steel ring she had worn even before she was a slave.  Flora had taken great delight in hanging weights from it to make the teenaged girl slave scream as she was made to cum by a huge, black silicon vibrating butt plug.  Now, though, she hooked the ring with her right big toe and pulled it sharply downwards.

The teen slave screamed in pain.

“Thank you, Mistress”, she just managed to get out, fighting back the tears.

Flora grabbed her by the ear.

Flora liked to keep her slaves as hairless as possible.  Every hair on 255B/D’s body had been removed, leaving her smooth golden skin even more sensitive and sensual.

She forced the slave’s face into her crotch.

“Lick my cunt.  If you’ve not got me wet within two minutes, you’ll be sleeping outside by the front gate with the ‘Use Me As You Want’ sign again”, snarled the Mistress.

255B/D set to work.  She kissed and gently nibbled her Mistress’ inner thigh, working slowly towards her slit.  The slave could see it starting to glisten slightly.  She went to the other thigh and slowly and carefully kissed and nibbled her way up to her Mistress’ now moist cunt.

The slave flicked her tongue across Flora’s clit as she kissed her way around her Mistress’ labia.  Occasionally, she nipped the side of the clitoral hood with her teeth.  Her Mistress moaned with delight each time.

“Keep it up, slut”, said Flora.  “I’m going to cum all over your face.  You’re then going to not wash for the rest of the day until one of the other slaves hoses you down”.

Flora was starting to feel the warmth in her crotch build as the slave gently lapped at it like a cat drinking milk.  She began to slowly and gently run her hands over her body, feeling the shape of the muscles.  Each touch set her skin tingling.  Working up her body, Flora reached the soft skin of her breasts.  The skin stretched over the implants, the tightness making it more responsive to her touch.  She felt a shudder of pleasure as the cow licked her clit at the same time as she brushed one of her hard, erect nipples.  She felt a brief charge of sexual electricity flash across her body as 255B/D’s fingers slid into her now sopping hole and the slave began to work two of her fingers in and out of her Mistress’ cunt.  She kept flicking the clit with her tongue as she did so.  Sending another shock of pleasure as she did.

The heat radiating from her pussy slowly increased as wave after wave of pleasure, increasing with strength with each moment washed over the Mistress’ now writhing body.  It built and built until she couple feel she was starting to cum.  Flora grabbed 255B/D’s head again and mashed her slave’s face deep into her pussy.

“Lick, bitch!” she croaked out as the orgasm hit hard.  And again, and again.

255B/D’s tongue was starting to cramp.  She was also getting more and more lightheaded from lack of oxygen as her nose and mouth were held tighter and tighter and Flora began to grind her crotch into the slave’s face as she continued licking.  Harder and harder as wave after wave of orgasm blasted through her senses.  Despite the slave’s rapid suffocation, she knew to keep going until she blacked out…

The slave had stopped licking.  Flora looked down, frowning and trying to be angry.  After that many orgasms in succession, that was difficult.  The slave’s body had gone limp.  Luckily for her, Flora’s next orgasm in the repeating wave had hit her like a truck.  It was a good job, too, or else the punishments would be very severe.

Flora looked down at the naked slave drifting in and out of consciousness at her feet, gasping for breath.  She spat on the prone shape and left.  It would clean up the mess before it went back in it’s cage.  It would do the cleaning with it’s tongue.  Just to make things more demeaning. 

Then she would stake it out on the front lawn by the gates with the “Use Me…” sign.

It was more than the fucking cumslut slave bitch deserved.

Let me know what you think in the Comments.  If you’ve read Wild Caught… and haven’t reviewed it on Amazon, please do!