Thank you to everyone who participated in my first Substack Chat. (Details on how to join in here.) I found myself texting replies from the app on my phone while out and about. Standing outside a restaurant, my mind was on fire when one person commented that there might be a tie between the world in Tales of Ownership (set in Europe) and the world hinted at in “The Toy Maker” (included in Filthy Morsels) being the American version of that. I’m looking forward to hosting more chats!
Keep voting in the newsletter polls—I love seeing the votes come in and learning more about reader tastes. The honeymooners story won the poll on which storyline I should continue writing more of — it had a slightly unfair advantage because the poll followed Part 2 of that story. Part 3, this issue’s exclusive erotica, is for everyone who voted for the honeymooners.
My poll asking what kink people wanted to read next from me ended in a tie between lactation and pet/pony play. So I wrote “Escape from the Barn” (Bdsmlr) which has both.
Other new erotica by me:
Public sex on Tumblr
A lot of new very short stories posted in September on Bdsmlr, including multiple stories featuring characters from “Baby Slut” (original full story included in Filthy Morsels), this perverted religion story, and lots more. September has been busy.
What I’m working on: Adding onto the story about a woman whose ex-boyfriend sells her to the president of a motorcycle club, for inclusion in Wicked Bites. If you feel that you missed a story in Filthy Morsels or wanted to read more of a story there, let me know because I’m actively working on the follow-up collection.
Read previous installments of this story here: Part 1, Part 2
“The Honeymoon of Her Dreams” [M/f]
Warren started his day as he always did, with a strong brew from his favorite small-batch coffee roaster, and an efficient read of the business section of the paper, as he reclined comfortably against superb pillows at the head of the sumptuous bed. He was not immune, however, to the wide, pleading eyes that gazed in his direction from the foot of the bed.
His wife’s morning was not quite as relaxed. He had kept her, ever since he took full, legal, and permanent possession of her as his wife, in severe bondage. This morning was no different.
He’d been putting her to bed in something he called a sleep sack. It mummified her body rather nicely. Warren detested being disturbed in bed by a wriggling body. The heavy chain from the collar around her neck on the outside of the sack that went to the headboard really wasn’t necessary at all, but he liked the act of chaining her to their marital bed. To top it off, he covered her from neck down with a 15-pound weighted blanket.
The latex sleep sack, which had both a zipper and laces for further tightening, kept Meera’s thighs pressed tightly together. No chance of that slim tubular vibrator slipping out. Or the plug. No inadvertent touches or friction on her clit. It very adequately contained Meera in a humid stew of her own unsatiated lust as Warren got his shut-eye.
Meera was so exhausted from her nightly struggle and failure to climax that she was still lost to dreamland when Warren unzipped and released her from the sleep sack. She hardly stirred as he pried out the plug and extracted the drained vibrator from her humid cunt. She twitched a little, her breath shortening, as he took out a cord of rope and began wrapping it around her chest. Then down her belly and between her legs, tugging it up until it bisected her core tightly, and then back up behind her. The rope was lost in the cleft of her ass before it was secured off, high at the top of her back. Her limp arms were pulled back and the rope braided them together in a sleeve of knots.
Her awakening came when the steel pincers closed on the tender tips of her small breasts. Her eyes flared with alarm, moving madly around as she took in her surroundings, while Warren threaded the twine from the clamps to knot them off on each side of the chopsticks that he held out in front of her face.
“Open your mouth, Meera. Present that lovely tongue of yours.”
She didn’t want to, he could see that, but she did. Whereupon he trapped her tongue using the chopsticks like a vise. A modified bit gag of sorts.
“Posture, Meera,” Warren grinned evilly. “Chin up, dear. Your gift to me this morning will be your sore teats and tongue. I’m cherishing this gift.”
She sputtered and drooled and whimpered at the way she dragged her breasts up by the nipple clamps. His wife wasn’t as amply endowed in that area as his past lovers, but he compensated for that by torturing her nipples every chance he got. They stuck out at a length quite disproportionate to her diminutive size, the blatant and provocative things plainly begging for pain. And he was entertaining notions of augmenting her size while emphasizing her loss of bodily autonomy by way of inducing lactation. So many decisions in store for him to make about his new wife.
In short order, he had her back arched in a rather strenuous hogtie, which drove the rope between her legs even deeper into her saturated cunt.
Warren sighed with pleasure as he took a long sip of his coffee. Meera wt as motionless, except for the wild movements of her eyes. And the long line of drool. Housekeeping was going to get a very large tip from him at the end of their stay for all the times they’d had to refresh the bedsheets. Multiple times a day, at this point. He liked his sex earthy, and liked nothing more than to treat his wife to a long bout of sex play that reduced her to an exhausted, messy puddle, lying limply in mussed sheets, stained with come, lube, drool, sweat, and tears.
He finished his breakfast with his wife as a living work of art before calling down to the kitchen for Meera’s meal. The hospitality at the resort was exceptional, not that Meera’s breakfast took much time. By the time the smoothie was delivered, he had taken down his wife and repositioned her in her chair: impaled on a knobby dildo, rubber-coated clamps peeling apart her labia, legs draped over her forearms, which he’d strapped down to the excessively set-apart arms of the chair. Straps belted over her waist, just above and below her breasts, kept her posture straight.
She was fed the smoothie through a stainless steel straw. Warren had sampled it himself and found it quite pleasing, but he was sure she must have grown tired of having the same meal for so many days. The concoction was carefully calculated to provide the right amounts of vitamins, nutrients and proteins to keep her hale and hearty.
When they returned home, Meera would follow the weekly meal plan for preparing his repast and hers. He planned to keep her on the smoothie diet for breakfasts and all meals on weekends, but she would be allowed to join him in sharing his lunch and dinners during the week. Saturday and Sundays he wanted to reserve for a deeper immersion into her submission to him, an echo of their honeymoon and how they began their married life together. She would be expected to lovingly prepare his food but not be able to enjoy it herself. Just one of a thousand ways he planned to impose his will on her.
Warren checked the resort’s schedule of activities for the day, then flicked his eyes to his wife.
“Well, my dear, I have a meeting with some folks I work with this morning, but after that, I’m all yours. What say I take you for a float in the pool?”
Meera’s eyes brightened. She loved swimming, and Warren had built a sizable pool at their house just for her personal use. She nodded eagerly, even as she winced with pain.
“Wonderful. Now, you’ll be accompanying me to my meeting, because I do love having you close, but also because Shaffer is such a fan of yours, he won’t stop nattering at me about how I should have brought you along if I don’t. I’ll endeavor to keep you entertained. You’ll have plenty of time at the pool today,” he assured her.
Extracting the rope from between her legs and removing the clamps made her shudder with relief, and he smiled at the way she nuzzled into his touch. He brushed warm kisses over those sensitive parts before pressing a slim but efficient vibrator into her core. Then he had her wear a pair of camel-colored leggings that conformed beautifully to her legs and bottom, and showed the delineation of her cunt in stark relief. He paired it with a matching crop top that made the most of her modest cleavage.
At the meeting, which took place at one of the poolside lounges, he had Meera stand just beside his chair. The other men had their wives kneeling next to them or, in the case of Ian Shaffer, crouched under the table, her head occasionally bumping it.
As predicted, Ian greeted Meera enthusiastically. He didn’t stand, on account of how his wife had her mouth suctioned around the base of his cock, but his stare zeroed in on Meera’s nipples bumping out against the soft cashmere of her top.
She only responded with a slow swallow; Warren had put a ball gag in her before they left their room. Her ankles were hobbled with a short chain, and her wrists were held to her sides, linked by their cuffs to the rings in a waist-cinching belt.
As the men spoke, Warren toyed with the remote, dialing it up and back down with seeming idleness and absentmindedness. Every time he changed its setting, a soft but audible chime dinged from between Meera’s legs, right before her body either tensed or relaxed.
Soon enough she began to breathe rather hastily through her nose, noisy gusts that increasingly drew the attention of their party. Warren smiled to see the look of anxious dread in her pretty eyes. He knew what she was so desperate to express, and what he had no intention of allowing at this time.
She began to shuffle in place, in tiny steps that sounded her chained together feet, squeezing her thighs together. Her hands, trapped at her sides below her hips, were fisted together. She was moaning from behind the ball gag, soft, pleading sounds, mewls of plaintive distress.
“Seems your wife has ants in her pants, Warren,” Randall observed in his lazy drawl. “Don’t say you’re treating us all to a show now.”
“Oh yes,” Warren said softly, his eyes on his wife. “Go ahead, Meera. Do what your body need to do. You don’t have any control over this, just like you don’t have control over anything else.”
The other wives at their table had their eyes lowered, shifting uncomfortably. Imagining, perhaps, themselves in Meera’s place. It was clear Shaffer was stroking his cock under the tablecloth; without a word, he drew his wife back under the table to take care of the cock she’d recently satisfied.
Warren decided to help his poor wife. He nudged the vibrator higher and higher, ding ding ding ding ding, until at last her hips jerked and she came standing right there, and at the same time she released her bladder.
Wetness gushed from her crotch, staining her leggings dark. It ran down the inside of both legs as Meera swayed in place, chest heaving, her eyes screwed tight.
“Beautiful, dear,” Warren said, and signaled the waitstaff for a cleanup. “Didn’t that feel nice? Having a good, hard come while you pissed yourself in front of my friends. Well done, Meera. Good girl.”
He wondered if this was how Meera had imagined her honeymoon. He thought he would find her answer surprising.
What I’m listening to: Audio porn by SadisticDepravity on Soundgasm. Ah! No exposition or much narration. Just the exquisite sounds of one person roughly using the other. A woman sobbing on a man’s cock. A mouthy pet being used properly. Beautifully hot and intense CNC painal scenes. I want more audio like this, please send me links in the comments.
What I’m reading: The Twitter feed of artist saagelius. I am lusting over the details in this piece, titled “business ride”, like the panties around the knees and that there are actually three people in the backseat of the car! There’s a part 2 to that ride — clothed male, naked female! Business call, business dinner, business dinner part 2…I hope saagelius keeps illustrating these characters. (There’s also fic inspired by it.)
Additionally, something I am looking forward to reading is Beautiful Possession by Trent Evans, which will be released at the end of October. It’s a return to the world of White Valley and two characters I really, really wanted to read more of: the reporter Falon and the sheriff Ford. The book follows Falon’s Captivity and I always wanted to read more of Falon and Ford’s life together in White Valley once she settled in. I’m giddy that Trent is giving us that glimpse.
What I’m wondering: What’s your favorite season? What’s your favorite part of that season? As you might guess from this timing of this question, mine’s fall. And I’m in the process of writing a short story broken into four parts, by season.
Great post! There is so much to dig into here. I enjoyed 'Escape from the Barn.' I'm currently reading 'The Cacklebrook Farm Chronicles' by Xenia Aaron. It has similar themes. However none of the fillies have tried to run away!
I just ran across some spanking audio by TheMailman on pixiv with 'mega' links in the description. I was really impressed with the AI narration.
https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/108568907
https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/110073700
https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/111137572