I revamped an old book!

Not a new book, just  a better cover!

Smashwords is less fussy about consent in fantasies, so I suspect I may be spending more time there in future.

Whips and Stockingtops: The Collar

I'm tinkering with a Whips and Stockingtops origin story. I'm not convinced anybody will want to read it though! Here's the opening...

It didn’t start with the flying saucer.

It started with the slave collar I found hidden behind the ironing board in the broom closet of my perfectly normal student apartment in 21st century Manchester, England, my timeline.

An Art Deco slave collar in burnished steel with with corrugations and a geometrical border.
It could almost have been jewellery, except for the O-ring at the throat and the lock at the back that had no key: once snapped shut, it would take cutting tools to remove this permanent collar.

It looked expensive. It was certainly for the dedicated fetishist.

Yet, somebody had left it in the back of the closet.

Specifically, they’d left it in an old fashioned manilla envelope bearing the words “New Slave” in beautiful copperplate handwriting.

The slave collar didn’t belong to my new roommates because they hadn’t moved in yet. Had it been abandoned by last year’s students?

I took it back to my room to… examine it.

Just holding the fetter was a turn on. It was light, with rounded edges; practical. Somehow that made it even more exciting.

Putting the cold metal around my neck and looking at it in the mirror… that almost got me off.
The collar belonged there! It fitted like a glove. All I had to do was snap it shut…

Except I didn’t.

I did, however, jerk off and feel vaguely sordid after.

Then I got on with my first semester at college, failed to pluck up courage to join the BDSM group or even go to a munch, started dating a very normal Business Studies student called Mary. We didn’t have sex. Just did some inconclusive groping. But almost every spare night found me kneeling in front of my mirror, one hand pressing the collar to my throat, the other jerking away at my dick.

Then came the Christmas break. Dad was off whoring in the Far East. Mum was busy with her church group. So I stayed on at the apartment and, since I now had the place to myself…

I snapped the collar shut on my throat.

I came.

No hands.

Just an eruption in my groin.

Then I just knelt there feeling stupid, covered in my own jism, with a irremovable steel collar fixed around my neck. What the hell was I going to do now?

And that’s when the flying saucer abducted me.

Enslaved by Posh Totty #9: Dildo Deflowering a Dangerous Redhead: Using a strap-on dildo, then whipped by an angry redhead while trapped in chastity!

Yes it's here at last!

CLICK TO DOWNLOAD!

Can permanently chaste Brett satisfy red-haired Audrey armed only with his strap-on dildo?

On what he secretly regards of his last night of slavery to the posh coeds, leggy, red-haired Audrey invites Brett to “make a woman of her”.

Unfortunately, he’s stuck in a chastity device! His only option is to strap on a dildo and do his best to make the event special. 

Can he weather the exquisite frustration of pounding a prosthetic dong into the woman of his dreams, feeling her writhe under him, but experiencing nothing in his real man parts other than the unyielding cage?

Will his vigorous wooing kindle true romance between them? Or will he make a mistake and bear the brunt of her sadistic rage?

Read Episode 9 of Enslaved by Posh Totty and experience the dildo deflowering of a very dangerous redhead.

(I've actually done this! Made love while locked in chastity and using a strap-on dildo. It is exquisitely frustrating... Read the story and find out what it's like.) 

A Chaste Spring Break 3: SciFi Total World Femdom! Permanent Male Chastity! (Chastity Planet)

Get Episode 3 Now!

At last, I've released Episode 3:

On a world where all men are fitted with alien-tech chastity cups, Robin tries to survive Spring Break without being dragged down into sexual servitude... or is that what he really wants?
It turns out that when the men are all trapped in chastity, the women lose their inhibitions. Femtopia is a resort where unfettered female desire runs rampant and even the sweetest girls turn demanding tongue addict, or cruel dominatrix.
The worst of it is that the Robin is starting to like all this.
A chance one-sided hookup on a nighttime beach, domestic and erotic service to his raunchy co-ed roommates, then a painfully sexy encounter with the sadistic Ute… these wild kinky experiences combine to nudge him out of his comfort zone.
Is he actually happiest on his knees before beautiful otherwise unattainable women? Is this is who he is supposed to be?

Get Episode 1 Now! 

This SciFi erotica series is very dear to my heart. I love coming up with Total World Femdom settings, and this one recalls the exquisite frustration of beach holidays in my youth - all those sexy girls and no way to talk to them, and nothing to say to them if I did! Just imagine what it would be like if they were in charge with no come back...

And if course it beautifully supports my trademark girl-next-door does Femdom shtick. It's packed with sexy but realistic young women discovering the joys of getting what they want with no obligation or responsibility.

Get Episode 2 Now! 

It's also an erotic world that it would not be entirely insane to visit. Nothing truly bad can happen to you there, though you can end up suffering a lot of pain and frustration. Certainly, I'd go!

Don't miss the other books in the series! And keep an eye out for the next episode.

(Of course, whenever one of my books earns a nice review on Amazon, the next episode gets bumped up to the top of my priority list...)

Designing Chastity Planet

Get Episode 2!

I'm working on episode three of Chastity Planet and I've just realised that BDSM doesn't exist in my far future. I mean, so far, nobody is a self aware kinkster.

Obviously, the whole planet is kinky. However, nobody explicitly realises it.

I can't decide whether this is a fail that I should put right, or a chance to talk about the pull of BDSM and how, shorn of the fetish, it's to do with basic human drives.

Perhaps this is the theme I needed to make it work. I guess Episode 3 is going to be pretty defining.

Imprisoned, Flogged and Enslaved for Valentine's (Bi Femdom Wife Book 2)!

It's here at last!

Click to download from Amazon!

Sealed into chastity, tormented by sexy flashbacks, Tristan languishes in his cell so his dominant wife can have some space. She releases him only for domestic service and ferocious discipline. He thinks he’ll get some “proper femdom“ if he can endure until Valentine’s Day. She, however, plans to go lesbian clubbing and cuckold him again. 
Eleven thousands words of Domestic Femdom, Male Imprisonment, Oral Service and brutal Corporal Punishment. 

You can also click here to get it in ebook format...

Enslaved by Posh Totty 8: Lesbian First Time is here! (And a little about why I write what I write)

Click to Download!

At last, another episode of Enslaved by Posh Totty, my college chastity and femdom series!

In this one, the now liberated red-haired Audrey turns seductive with one of her posh female friends. 

Meanwhile, poor chaste enslaved Brett can only serve and watch, powerless to join in or even get himself off.

CLICK TO GET IT ON YOUR KINDLE RIGHT NOW!

About this episode and writing FFm femdom in general

This episode gave me a chance to further explore the idea of male submissive slave as "participant voyeur". He gets to be in the room with the sexy action, even help out, but the girls don't behave as if he's there.

It's also another story where a chaste male sub serves lesbians - or at least bi women - while they get it on with each other. 

This is... unlikely to happen to anybody in real life (though there is a guy on a chastity forum who plausibly claims to have been the sub in a decades-long femdom threesome involving his wife, her best friend and himself). Most people prefer not to have an audience when they make love, and I doubt lesbians are queuing up for any sort of erotic relationship with a man, even a one-sided service-based relationship where he's permanently chaste!

...about deeply submissive men in deeply
subordinated roles where they really
aren't the centre of attention.
(DOWNLOAD)

It's a great fantasy, though, to be the compliant slave of two gorgeous women who are having hot sex before your eyes.  Or at least it's my favourite fantasy for several reasons. 

For a start, the idea of spying on an intimate moment is hot, but as a straight male, I'm not really interested in watching another guy's heaving buttocks. Much better to make it two women.

Then there's the chaste submissive thing. Two women having sex really don't need male help. Being a slave in that situation is about as much on the outside as you can get.

Finally - don't laugh at me - there's a deeper emotional resonance. Growing up as a male submissive in pre-internet days, I have an empathy for people who harbour "forbidden desires". It makes me happy contemplating anybody having a (consensual) transgressive sexual adventure.

I also like writing about lesbians for reasons of erotic storytelling. 

My stories are about deeply submissive men in deeply subordinated roles where they really aren't the centre of attention. The problem with this is that the most of the action, and most of the story, can't then be about the hero. 

The whole point of his role is that he gets to live a simple life of service - some of it erotic - scary punishment and deliciously frustrating chastity. That's pretty much how our real life relationship works. Having one partner in charge means things go so smoothly that there's not much to tell other than a catalogue of whippings and lickings, which isn't really a story. 

Being a kinky slave is a bit like being on a yoga retreat - lots of cool stuff happens, but it does't generate many good anecdotes. 

My answer to this problem is to have mistresses who are engaged in lesbian relationships. That gives the story all the drama, erotic suspense, and unpredictability it needs, without putting the slave centre stage. 

My series Sex Slave of the Lesbian Flappers takes this to its logical conclusion - the women aren't really aware that their chaste male slaves are human. These, however, are surprisingly hard to write because I had to learn how to do vanilla romances! (Watch this space.)

As a man with feminist leanings, am I OK with writing all this?

After some soul searching, yes. 

It's OK to have erotic fantasies and to explore them as long as you know that they are fantasies. There's a whole industry around M/M stories for female consumption, and women in nerdy gothy circles are often quite open about enjoying yaoi. So I don't see what I do as being much different. 

I also write my F/F to a particular code. I always try to make the women real people, or as real as you can get in whoops-let's-get-it-on erotica. I don't idealise their bodies, the sex isn't always smooth, and it's rarely if ever for the benefit of the male slave. Apparent realism is part of the kink, but it's also an ethical stance.

Ultimately, I'm a man who likes women and likes them just the way they are, and my fantasies and stories revolve around that.

FREE THIS WEEK ONLY: Enslaved By Posh Totty #1

"No pussy grabbing, some pussy worship!"

Everybody seems so unhappy, so I thought I'd share a little joy amongst like-minded people. For this week only, the first episode of ENSLAVED BY POSH TOTTY is yours for free!

CLICK TO GET YOUR FREE COPY

Read the first few pages of "Bi Femdom Wife 1 Cuckolded by a Lesbian on New Year’s Day"

CLICK TO GET THE WHOLE STORY!

Eleven o’clock New Year’s Day. Tristan padded into the living room and hesitated, blinking in the daylight, the cool air shrinking his balls against his chastity device.

The party guests had long gone, and the river estuary beyond the picture windows was deserted except for a container ship sluggishly negotiating the drizzle. So, nobody could see him in his steel collar and the breathtakingly expensive Happy Happy Chaste Boi Purity Device(tm) clamped around — and inside! — his genitals. Even so, it felt… wrong to be “dressed” like this in daylight.

The rain rattled on the windows.

He shrugged.

That was the point. This was supposed to be a femdom adventure to start the New Year. It wasn’t like he had a choice anyway. Thanks to his time safe, he couldn’t remove either bondage device for 48 hours and his wife Hannah had only gone along with his kinky plans because he had promised to clear up after her friends.

It had been a good party, but now the minimalist modern interior was cluttered with party debris. Plastic cups and beer bottles littered every surface, the food trays had overflowed the long dining table, and dozens of dancing feet had ground crisps and pretzels into the patches of spilled wine. Worse, the smokers who’d gone out to huddle in the car park had trailed muddy footprints everywhere.

Tristan sighed and hoped the resulting Femdom would be worth it. He trudged into the kitchen to get a big black bag. The guests had also trashed the work surfaces and stainless steel splashbacks, or technically the exploding chili had. There was also a burned-out tray of nachos in the sink.

He yawned and wished he was back in bed next to his warm wife. The party had wound down at 3AM. However, it had taken him an hour to get into the imported Japanese chastity device — just putting on the base ring had gotten him too hard to install the mesh tube with its locking urethral plug. Then of course, he’d been too turned on to sleep, and when he had drifted off, Hannah’s wine-induced snoring had woken him.

“Fuck it,” he said aloud. “She’ll probably be too hung over to do anything anyway.”

But he was damned if he was going to lose the moral high ground.

After a heavy night, Hannah always liked to chill out on the couch, so he started on the living room first.

Painfully conscious of his taut balls bumping his thighs, he picked his way around the grimy floor, stooping to scoop up the debris, steeling himself to go near the picture window--

--which is why it took him half an hour to discover the pair of stockinged feet on the couch: Sleek feminine feet with slender legs, all wrapped in cosy knitted black woolen hosiery. The couch’s back hid the rest of the interloper, who sighed and mumbled something.

Tristan froze. Sweat broke out on his brow. He should sneak away back to the bedroom, tell Hannah to get rid of this uninvited overnight guest. However, he couldn’t seem to move.

The wind picked up. The sky grayed. Cold rain hissed on the windows.

The interloper yawned. She rolled onto her side, curling her legs. The woolen second skin made them seem unreal, as if Photoshopped to perfection.

Was these actually stockings? wondered Tristan. Hannah never wore stockings… except that one time on his birthday. His cock hardened and tried to erect itself. The Happy Chaste Boi Purity Device(tm) kept it pointing down, clamped down against his balls.

Tristan’s mouth went dry. What harm would there be in finding out?

He inched around the corner of the couch.

Now he had a clear view of her curled legs, the shallow curves pressed against each other like a playground for a caressing hand.

Tristan chewed his lip. He really shouldn’t be doing this.

A little further.

Yes!

The hem of the woman’s burgundy velvet dress tented around her thighs, exposing everything: the place where a strip of black lace marked the transition from soft woolen stockings to smooth olive skin; the hollow where thighs met buttocks, and the black G-string with wisps of brown hair escaping its skimpy little triangle of fabric.

Tristan shuddered. His cock heaved against its prison. This was so much better than surfing porn. He was going to wank himself senseless. He started to back away.

His cock twitched forlornly to remind him; no masturbation for two days.

Panic rose up from the pit of Tristan’s stomach and the strength drained from his limbs. He gasped for breath while his lost cock beat like a second heart and suddenly he couldn’t move.

The girl yawned and rolled to her feet. The burgundy fabric cloaked off her thighs. Shoulder-length hair fell into place, covering her neck. She took a pace toward the window, moving like a ballerina, one foot in front of the other, stockinged toes then heels—

And Tristan knew who she was.

Not a girl. A woman. Zarah, another provincial girl made good like Hannah. She was also Hannah’s BFF and the person with whom she’d shared a Lesbian kiss at a high school party something like twenty years ago. She’d always treated Tristan with an indulgent contempt; a phase Hannah was going through. Posh twat, she’d called him.

Despite — admit it; because of — all that, Tristan had always harbored a secret crush on her...

CLICK TO READ THE REST!

New Title!

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I finally wrote a story about mature couples doing married Femdom! I wanted it to be darker and more realistic than my other novels... perhaps it is. However, it went off the rails pretty quickly and turned out much wilder than I'd planned...

Things get out of hand when Tristran persuades Hannah, his no-nonsense Geordie wife, to let him spend New Year’s Day as her chaste slave. Zarah, her vampy bisexual BFF, has slept over and plans to cuckold him. Meanwhile, sick of his demands, Hannah humiliates him by insisting he stick to the plan and slave for both of them!

Nearly ten thousands words of Domestic Femdom, Kinky Threesomes and Lesbian Cuckolding. If that doesn’t convince you, here are some spoilers…

He’s too convincing as a slave and they use him as a bridge, making out while he serves his wife orally. He leaks from his chastity belt, which earns him a brutal whipping. The excitement spurs the women to really make love while he looks on, ignored, chaste and in chains, powerless to join in or to stop them. Finally, his wife locks him in an improvised “cell” so she can enjoy a night of passion with her new lesbian lover. He expects to be trapped for a few yours, but she announces that he will spend days chained up while she “has some space”…

Oh, and the Happy Happy Chaste Boi Chastity Device(tm) makes an appearance...