Soundtrack for Chastity Planet

I'm mostly writing to this wonderful lady:

Sex Slave of the Lesbian Flappers "Seafood" now on iTunes

So, Sex Slave of the Lesbian Flappers "Seafood" is now on iTunes! (I'd be very grateful if somebody who has iTunes would click the link in the sidebar to make sure it works.)

Of all my kinky story worlds, Femdom Flapper World is closest to my heart.

I just love the fresh style and classy elegance of flappers and vamps of the 1920s and 1930s, and, most of all,  I love the fact that they are all wearing stockings.

Femdom Flapper World lets me take my retro voyeurism one step further, to step into the picture.

The slave is there, gets to watch, touch and... taste... but he's dehumanised. Nothing that happens is for his benefit, not even the beatings and permanent chastity. And yet he lives in a constant state of teasing and denial, of erotic tension heightened by real fear.

Mmmmm.

And because the flappers are all vanilla lesbians who think nothing of owning a permanently chaste male slave, I can make them as realistic as possible, give them hopes and dreams, vulnerabilities, and have the slave see them all.

You see, I'm one of those subs who genuinely likes women. I want to be the mistreated slave of a likable, lovable woman. (Actually, I've achieved this.) Femdom Flapper world gives me morally good women who don't think twice about owning a slave, because that just happens to be the culture.

Plus, did I mention the stockings?

I remember realising - one day - that all those women in all those films were bare-thighed under their skirts or dresses, with garters or garter belts keeping up that sleek hosiery.

Throw in femdom and I am lost! Lost!

However, I have other stories to tell.

The next visit is to Chastity Planet, a tourist destination where all the men wear chastity cups. In Femdom Flapper World, slavery is normal. On Chastity Planet, male chastity is the norm. Different dynamic, different stories.

But, if the people like Sex Slave of the Lesbian Flappers "Seafood" then I'll be glad of the excuse to return to a world of stockings and whips and vamps and flappers.

Current Giles English Femdom chasity erotica range

 Just so it's all in one place, here are my two books - one novella and one novel.

NEW!

 [Kindle][Kindle UK][Epub]

[Kindle][Kindle UK][Epub]

[B&N][iTunes]

Seafood Amazon description...

Guys - how does this sound?

A lesbian romance told by a male slave doomed to permanent chastity!

Simon is trapped in an alternate Jazz Age where the men are all chaste slaves and the women all lesbian Vamps and Flappers… a world of stocking-tops and cloche hats, where beatings are routine and men are mere sex toys and domestic servants.

When Simon is sold on a whim, he vows never to love his owner again. Can he resist the fiercely intelligent and sensually voracious Lena?

Lena, a burned-out journalist, seeks tranquility in the sleepy fishing village of St Eves. Can she fight off the attentions of her former lover, the seductive vamp Claudette? Can she win the heart of Daphne, the skinny-dipping Bohemian artist?

Inspired by a love of retro erotica, “Seafood” brings to life all those sepia-tinted Flappers… gives each a whip and a chaste male slave to cringe at her stockinged feet.

Work in Progress: "Sex Slave to Lesbian Flappers - Seafood"

Thought you guys might like to see an excerpt of the forthcoming novella...
 
A week later, Lena strolled along the cliff top path. She had exchanged her cloche hat for a floppy knitted beret. The wind made her scarf dance and her heavy tweed dress cling to her legs. However, my owner looked warm enough in her “Arran” sweater, its red and orange zigzags cheerfully defying the bleak landscape of scrubby grass and rocks.

She was also magnificently alone—

—except for me, her slave, plodding along half a minute behind laded with a thermos flask and folding stool. But then, I didn’t count.

Lena had kept to herself for a week, typing, walking and sleeping. I’d run errands down the cliff steps to the village, made her endless coffees, but I’d only touched her to give her long massages. If she had masturbated again, I had not seen it.

The memory of that frantic self pleasuring made my lost cock heave inside its surgical steel cage. Her daily massages were a delicious torment. Despite the cold wind, I could almost feel the heat of the bedroom, see the firelight flicker on her oiled flesh as I ran my thumbs up and down her spine, the lust breaking over me in waves.

I frowned. Just a general lust, I told myself. I just wanted more of the free porn show. I most certainly didn’t have any desire for Lena in particular.

Damn! She’d stopped and I’d ended up just a little too close.

I halted and tensed, expecting her to use that clicker of hers to rack up another demerit. Instead, Lena produced her binoculars and swept them out to sea - not out to sea, she was pointing them down at the beach.

I sidled a little closer to the edge so I could see what she was looking at.

Far below, in a sheltered cove, a barefoot girl in a duffle coat left footprints in the sand while the wind made a swirling cloud out of her ash blond hair. It was Daphne the artist! My groin tightened a notch.

Daphne stopped just short of the high-tide mark. She put down her sandals, unslung a satchel and draped a towel over a rock. The heavy duffle coat came off and the wind plastered her flowery summer dress to her statuesque figure. She caught the fluttering hem and whipped it off over her head to stand naked on the cold beach, her back to us.

My cock came to a prickling hardness and tried to tear free off its permanent cage. Pale skin made marble-white by the cold, statuesque curves competing with the waves… Daphne looked like a goddess.

The wind snatched the dress out of her hand. She turned inland and raced after it, hair billowing ahead of her, teeth flashing with merriment. Her full breasts bounced as they ran, dark areolae bobbing in time to her long stride. My gaze fixed on a divine blond arrowhead of curls between her honeyed thighs and my chastity cage seemed to fold in on itself.

I glanced guiltily at Lena, but my mistress was lost in the view, moving only to keep the binoculars focused on the naked blond girl.

Daphne caught the dress. She carried it back to her rock then bent to trap it with stones - was that shadow between her thighs the darker skin of her vulva? My vision blurred and a tremor ran through me.

The blond girl stepped over the band of rotting seaweed marking high tide. She sprinted down the beach, took three long bounds into the waves, then, like a dolphin, made shallow dive into the frothing water.

My owner and I both watched rapt as the girl swam back and forwards across the bay.

I shifted from foot to foot trying to stay warm, my cock just a numb hardness. More sensibly dressed than I, Lena just stood there enjoying the close ups granted by her binoculars. From time to time, her legs tensed and she twitched her hips.

I looked back down at the beach.

Daphne emerged from the sea like a mermaid, her large breasts firm and globular, shiny with saltwater. The water fell away from her flat tummy, then her pussy - the white-blond curls plastered against her pubis. She strode up the beach, white-skinned and unearthly, as immune to the cold as a goddess. She grabbed the towel in both hands and dried herself with vigor, making her breasts wobble.

The tip of my penis prickled and it was if the each wave that struck the beach ran on up the cliffs to make me sway back and forth. I just wanted to run home and masturbate, but there was no home, and no possibility of masturbating, ever.

Daphne pulled on her dress, then the duffle coat, then trapped her hair with a woolly hat. The show was over.

Bootsteps crunched on the path. Lena strode past me. I raced after her, back along the cliff path to her cottage.

I found her in the porch. Still wearing her Arran sweater, she was sprawled in an old wooden chair.

I hung up my bulky coat then knelt to unlace her muddy boots.

“Forget the boots,” she said, spreading her legs. The hem of the tweed dress rode up to reveal cosy woolen stockings hugging sleek calves. “Lick me.”

A steel fist clenched my cock.

After some very useful feedback on Chastity Planet, I'm starting to get a handle on what people think is cool about it. Guys - am I right?

1. It's a plausible Femdom world
   You can imagine it working. The people don't just live for sex. The women don't all wear latex all the time. Despite it being SciFi, this makes it seem more real.
   
2. Vanilla people
   There  are plenty of good plausible reasons for vanilla men and women to be there and become corrupted or seduced.
   
3. Femdom and Vanilla Life collide
   Vanilla relationships and concerns can quickly turn Femdom, or collide with Femdom. Only on Chastity Planet can your ex-wife buy you as a slave, or your college crush unknowingly visit your licking booth.

Chayste series...

By popular request, I'm planning some stories in the "Aliens made me chayste" series. Nothing is fixed, but by way of inspiration I have mocked up a cover (really a product image for Kindle):

 

What do you think?

Back to erotica! (At last!)

Well, that's that. I've made my foray into Femdom self help books, said what needs saying, hope to god I've helped some people. Now I'm sliding back into my comfort zone and returning to writing chastity orientated erotica stories.

I have so many themes to explore, so many nuances of chastity and Femdom.

I also have a lot of half-finished pieces. Thanks to Kindle, I now have an impetus to polish them and get them out of the door.

Thanks for everybody's continuing friendship and support!

Giles
PS I have reopened the polls
PPS Feel free to make suggestions or requests :)

"The Chastity Belt" now on Kindle!

You can get the US version for my novel of male chastity here.

And the UK version here.

And the belted fellow on the cover is the very fine "Excolo" - more pictures on his site.

The Chastity Belt revised! (FREE UPDATED COPY FOR READERS)

As part of my new epub drive, I've revised The Chastity Belt!
 

New cover as well! (Wish it were me in that fine CB...)

Really, I've just corrected typos and continuity errors - nothing you probably noticed if you have already read it! However, if you have read the old version and would like a revised copy in epub format, please email me your old one with "CB REVISED" in the subject.

So what's so good about my Chastity Planet?

I'm curious. Chastity Planet was supposed to be a personal project - it breaks all the rules for commercial erotica: it's SciFi, it has a complicated setting and so on.

Sorority party on Chastity Planet

So, there’s a girl’s hand on my bare thigh and there’s nothing I can do about it. A horrible sense of naked vulnerability makes my groin tighten. I’m not wearing underwear beneath my Roman-style tunic. However, no matter how far up her hand goes, her long nails aren’t going to find my genitals.

I’m on Vesta - “Chastity Planet” - in the university city of Minerva. I’m at my first sorority party. Like every other male in the room, I’ve got a flesh-toned chastity cup nano-welded to my groin. Most of them are here for the cheap education. Me? I’m here for a girl. But not this girl.

“Hey, Annmarie,” I say. “Off. Out.”

A catlike grin forms on Annmarie’s round face. Her hand leaves my thigh and I know she’s fondling my groin cup. I can’t feel anything, but my lost penis goes wild, trying to heave itself upright. “What you going to do?” she says. ”Slap me?”

I blush. The discrete transparent collar about my throat stops me doing anything violent. The best I can do is try to shuffle away and close my legs.

Annmarie’s hand catches my knee. “Besides. I’m your date.”

I could still pull away - I’m not entirely helpless - but her fingers are strong and her nails are sharp; a reminder that men aren’t really protected from assault on this planet.

I glance around the room. Surely somebody will tell her to quit petting in public?

Thanks to the dress code, everybody’s wearing a unisex white tunic. It’s supposed to create a classical sense of tranquillity to go with the college’s columns and portico's. However, away from the College Wardens, everybody’s behaving as if it’s a toga party. There are bare legs everywhere, some smooth, some hairy. Nearby, a couple neck on the couch. His hand is running up and down her thigh. I get a glimpse of her pussy, dark lips behind a blond frizz. The girls don’t need underwear here, but only the men wear the cups.

Annmarie’s breath is hot on my ear. “You’ve been here a semester. That’s three months without an orgasm.” Her tongue teases my ear-hole, setting off a painful throb in my groin. “I have an orgasm every night.”

“Good for you,” I shoot back.

“Want to help me?” she purrs and I have a vision of her soft flesh undulating in the dark. Annmarie is built for sex, and suddenly I wish we were on a different planet with different rules. Mind you, she’d eat me alive.

“Not much in it for me, is there?” I say.

She tweaks my nipple through the tunic.

I bite back a whimper.

“More than you think,” says Annmarie. “I have this toy…” She laughs. “You come from a conservative world, don’t you? You’ve no idea what I’m talking about.”

But I’m not really listening to her. I’ve spotted Naima. My Naima.

I didn’t recognise her at first. Tall, blond, with long legs tapering down to her strappy sandals she looks coldy elegant. A million light years from the girl next door back home. Naima crosses her ankles as she talks and a vise seems to clench my groin.

Annmarie whistles under her breath. “Oh. I can’t compete with her. Is she why you wanted to come to the party?”

I nod mutely.

The buxom girl laughs. “She’s why you came to Vesta, isn’t she? You’re just a big soft romantic.”

My cheeks burn. “Girlfriend,” I mutter.

“Ex-girlfriend,”says Annmarie. “But go on. This should be interesting.” She gives me a shove.

I get to my feet. Chastity cup throbbing, I pick my way through the jumbled bodies. I’ve rehearsed this moment for so long, worked out all the ways the conversation could go. I want her to know that it’s OK that she’s not ready for sex, that it always was. But I don’t want her to think I’m here for her - that would be too much pressure.

Naima’s blue eyes twinkle. “Hello Brett,” she says. She looks me up and down.

Again I feel naked, naked and stupid. “Hi,” I say and blush again.

“We have unfinished business,” she says. She stoops a little, tilts her head and kisses me on the lips. Her hands catch the back of her neck and her tongue slides between my teeth. There’s a wet pulse in my groin, and I feel dizzy.

“Come upstairs,” she says.

Whips and Stockingtops...

Whips and Stockingtops...

Sorry I haven't been around so much...

Has anybody seen this vamp?