The early reader reviews of Filthy Morsels are out and have been so positive and kind. Thank you to everyone who read my latest book, and everyone who’s taken their time to support me by leaving a review or following my Author Profile on Amazon. Hearing from readers always brightens my day, and it’s what keeps me writing even when I’m feeling stuck.
What I’m working on: Wicked Bites is cruising along. It has over 80 stories right now, and is over 85,000 words. I’ve unearthed more vintage stories and reworked some of them, expanded others. This collection is turning out to be even more degrading and even dirtier than Filthy Morsels, if you can believe it. I think I can safely say that readers can expect Wicked Bites to be out within the next two to five months.
Meanwhile, Sweet Tidbits, my collection of Daddy Dom, ageplay, and age gap themed stories, is also making progress, albeit slower. This one is just over 20,000 words.
This issue’s erotica is an excerpt from Wicked Bites, originally posted circa 2015. It’s been edited, with new details added, but it’s one that’s not really being expanded.
Anonymous [MM/f]
“Who is she? Someone I know?”
“Now, now. Isn’t it better for her identity to be a mystery?”
“I suppose…but will you tell me…is she…the one with the tits, you know?”
A light laugh. “All you need to know is that she likes to be taken in hand, so I oblige her. As a condition of my overseeing her education, her body is completely under my tutelage. In effect, I own her body. Completely. This body,” a firm hand squeezed the flesh of the strung up bottom, “belongs to me. This beautiful body is mine to use. To play with. To pleasure if I want and if I let her earn her pleasure. To punish if I’m in the mood. To lend…to rent.”
Fingers traced the cleft of her bottom. A muffled moan was the only response. The chains didn’t even rattle. The woman had undergone a rigorous training session earlier, and her body was limp from hard use, muscles weak from being bound. Still, her body wanted pleasure, desperately, and she canted her hips back, raising her bottom higher and spreading her knees, exposing that needy place of hers.
She felt another’s weight depressing the bed and she began to quiver with excitement.
“Can she hear us, through that hood?”
“Sure, I didn’t plug her ears this time. She is gagged, though. She can get a bit loud when she wants to orgasm, greedy slut. Sometimes I like the begging, but sometimes it does her good to just take it. You know, suffer in silence. Good for her soul, I say.”
Unfamiliar hands slithered across her back to grab her breasts that spilled over the top of the half corset. She groaned, a deep and guttural sound in her throat, as the hands went straight for her nipples and began to pinch and pull them into long, stiff peaks.
“Her tits are really nice…you’re really not going to tell me if it’s her?”
“Now, now.” Chiding voice. “Just enjoy her body. You don’t need to know who she is.”
“I guess not. It’s just…” An embarrassed laugh. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve jerked off to her. I’ve thought about this…I mean, not exactly this, because, shit. Who the hell could dream this up? But I’d just love to…if it was her, you know, really show her…”
“Mmhm. Well you know what they say. Reality beats fantasy.”
“Yeah, I guess. Damn her tits are sexy.”
“I like the nice, long nips myself. Here — clamps if you want to use them. Feel free. She takes to them very nicely.”
A body hunched over hers, and a fat, hard cock thrust inside. From inside the utter and oppressive blackness of the hood, she squealed. His jabbing thrusts bounced her body on the bed. She might as well be a mannequin, or a doll, for all the care he gave to using her. He wasn’t fucking her as a person, he was using her body. Concentrated on what got him off. Prioritizing his pleasure.
Her limbs ached, but she didn’t care. She squealed again when pain burst from her nipple, which was compressed in a cruel wooden pinch. Hands hitched under her hips to angle her bottom up, crushing her clamped chest into the slick mattress, rubbing her tortured nipples back and forth across the damp sheets.
“I know you said coming in her costs more. But can I come on her?” the man fucking her grunted.
“Sure. Whatever you do, just don’t let her come.”
Every time she drew close to climaxing, a new clamp was added to her flesh — all around her breasts and the undersides of her arms. The bites of pain ramped her up but also staved off the climax just a little bit more. Pushed the finish line just a bit farther.
The thrusting cock was dragged out of her. She felt spurts of semen splashing on her skin. His come, deposited over her bottom and back, was left to cool quickly. Another muffled cry as a hand slapped down sharply on her ass.
“I’ve never come so hard,” the man panted. His tone held a note of wondering realization. “She’s so tight. She was squeezing my dick. She really wanted me to fuck her. She was wet for it.”
“She’s a good fuck, and it only took a bit of training, really, because she’s such a natural at this. Let me get her loose. She’ll get your dick hard in her mouth, then we’ll have her fuck herself on your cock. I let her do it with her hands cuffed to her neck. She’s gotten pretty good at keeping her balance, but you can help by holding onto her tits.”
“Yeah, ok.”
Maneuvering, manipulating, moving her into place. Her participation is not required. Hardly even needed. The clamps are flicked. Her flesh is freely fondled, then slapped, and the bounding weight of her breasts only gets her going.
“I really hope it’s her,” the man said wistfully. “Who I think it is. That would be just wonderful. To know this happened, that I did it to her. You know.”
What I’m listening to: “Good For You” by Selena Gomez. A sensual, sultry song that I underrated when it was first released. Her breathy vocals in this song are superb.
What I’m reading: Everyone needs to read Rainrunnergirl on Bdsmlr. This writer is posting incredible erotica. Without a doubt, her imagination for the fictional is richly creative. But possibly even more standout are the personal experiences she shares of her domestic life. I spent a long evening devouring everything she’s written so far and am eagerly anticipating new updates.
What I’m wondering: My cravings inspired this issue’s poll on sweets. (I’m craving really decadent chocolate truffles.)