Wicked Bites will be out this Friday, March 1! It includes a special preview of Sweet Tidbits at the end, of a story that was written in my early Tumblr days. Thank you to everyone who has preordered Wicked Bites (and Sweet Tidbits). Each one of you gave me the willpower to format the table of contents for 94 stories.
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What I’m working on: Editing some work. Replying to reader emails. Writing the two BDSM-as-a-religious-order stories—one is set in contemporary times and the other is set in an ambiguous, vaguely ancient Rome (flagrantly non-academic research: Spartacus: War of the Damned) fantasy place.
Hannah and the Professor [M/f]
Hannah bit her lip but she couldn’t quite hold back the helpless, pained whimper that escaped. She could feel milk dribbling down the slopes of her swollen breasts. Her ass, bearing freshly laid cane marks, throbbed with white-hot heat.
Over the baby monitor, she heard Max soothing the fussing baby…humming a lullaby…whispering words of approval…gradually she heard the sounds of the baby settle into quiet.
Relief made her body tremble. Once the baby was down for his nap, it would be her turn.
Her arms were outstretched above her head, secured to the headboard. Her ankles were tied up over her head too, bending her nearly in half, her bottom upturned and obscenely split wide, her milk-heavy breasts brushing her thighs. She wriggled her fingers uselessly. He’d left her trussed up in this position that folded her body and put her cunt and ass front and center on display, and then went to take care of the fussy baby.
Hannah felt fussy, too. She wanted to whine. She needed him to milk her. She needed him to fuck her as well. Her cunt was leaking down her crack.
She wasn’t pregnant yet, and it wasn’t from lack of trying. Max bred her every chance he got. In the meantime, he was taking full advantage of the fact that she wasn’t carrying his baby by treating her body like his own personal playground. Consequently, he had trained her body to respond to his demands…no matter how degrading, or deviant.
When Max returned to their bedroom, she held still. He strode right to the foot of the bed, looking at her as he dropped his robe to the floor.
Without speaking to her, he came around to the side and opened the nightstand drawer. Drew out two very familiar objects…one was a gag, which he pressed into her mouth….she raised her head for him so he could strap it on and silence her…lessening the chance that her cries would wake the baby and interrupt Max’s use of her body. She wore it so often that the straps practically conformed to the shape of her head.
The other object was a bottle of lube. Her face grew hot at the memory of being sent into the drug store to purchase it. Teetering and tottering on sky high heels, wearing the tiniest skirt, and tight tube top that barely contained her abundant cleavage and showed, to her humiliation, dark wet spots from where her milk had leaked through. The guy working the cash register was someone who went to the university…someone who she used to have a class with. He didn’t peel his eyes away from her tits the entire time he handled the transaction.
Max uncapped the bottle and poured a pool of it into his hand. He gripped his cock, stroking, getting it glistening and oiled up.
This was how he fucked her these days: in her ass, pounding hard and deep until he was about to come. Then he pulled out and plunged into her cunt to pump her full of his spend. If she was lucky, she got a few fast, brutal thrusts in her pussy before he came and his cock softened, depleted. It wasn’t enough for her, not by a long shot, but it was what she got.
Max gripped her cheeks and spread them. Lined the cock of his head up with her puckered hole and pressed forward, spearing into her ass as she moaned.
“Does my hot little college-dropout breeder want to come?”
She bobbed her head. “Yeshh surhh.”
He pumped in and out of her ass. The flexing power of his body driving her deeper into the mattress.
Max shook his head at her slowly. “Not until you’re pregnant again, slut. You can come when that pregnancy test comes back positive. Not before. Not until you’re breeding again.”
What I’m listening to: “Holy” by King Princess. I like many songs by King Princess, but “Holy” tops the “most played” list for the chorus alone: Honey, on your knees when you look at me / I’m dressed like a fucking queen and you’re begging, “please” / I rule with the velvet tongue. The sensuality, the imperious command, the owning one’s sexuality, yes, yes, yes.
What I’m reading: Ali Hazelwood’s entire booklist. Her newest book Bride, my first book by this author, is about a werewolf/vampire romance, but it’s her other previous books that I really loved. If you recall my book recommendation from an earlier newsletter, I have an admitted preference for geeky doms so I was bound to like Ali Hazelwood, who writes contemporary romances set in STEM academia. The relationship/character trope she writes really does it for me. On the surface the romances feel wholesome and adorable (there’s no BDSM), but the bedroom scenes between the characters feature electrifying sex and raw eroticism. A bonus? How she writes consent into these sexual encounters is hot as hell.
I’ll be taking more book recommendations featuring geeky doms, thank you.
What I’m wondering: I’ve been thinking about how I am exploring darker themes and wondering if I should just indulge the purely fantasy aspect and go full tilt into the abject wrongness. I mean dubious consent, kidnap and capture fantasies, shamelessly patriarchal settings…..I’ve flirted with this (see above, impregnation story, Baby Slut, etc.) but I could push it even more…just as an exercise.