Literotica Authors and Their Books (For Literotica Authors ONLY)

Launched by BarbarianSpy on 9 July 2016, a GM Hardesty D.C. cop mystery, Snitches, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt.


BLURB:

When a U.S. senator is named as a possible vice presidential running mate, all hell breaks out in his attempt to hide that he has a weakness for sadistic sex with rent-boys. When his thugs mess up an attempt to silence one in a D.C. hotel, snitches descend on D.C. vice cop Hardesty, not a stranger to vice himself, particularly with snitch rent-boys. Hardesty’s attempts to figure out what is what and who is doing who are complicated by his own partner’s decision to freelance blackmail the situation and to cut down on the competition in the process. Hardesty’s efforts to save the one rent-boy who isn’t snitching leads him on a merry out-of-town chase.

This is a sequel to habu’s Gotta Keep Trying.


TAGS:

bdsm, blackmail, detective, domination, double penetration, fetish, gay detective, gay male, gay politician, hunks, informants, male prostitution, mind control, murder, older-younger, politics, rough sex, vice cops, voyeur


EXCERPTS:

Jason’s head was turned to the side and he could see a garrote strap laying on the bed. He no longer was paralyzed. There wasn’t any doubt what these two goons had in mind—or why. Now that Etheridge was a national candidate, it was cleanup time on his background. Jason gathered all of the adrenaline that he could to unleash in one stroke. It was now or never.

With only one wrist out of the handcuffs and heavy metal handcuffs hanging from the other wrist, he now had a weapon of his own. He swung the loose cuffs at Fred’s head in a desperate lunge that, nonetheless, worked a charm. Fred’s eyes went large in surprise and pain as the metal of the free cuff slammed into his temple with the sickening sound of crushed bone. He toppled off the side of the bed and onto the floor with nothing louder than an “Ooof,” which was covered from the bathroom with the grinding noise from the shower head.

Jason walloped him again on the side of the head for good measure, but the goon was already down for the count. Jason scrambled around on the floor, finding the key to the handcuff and freeing his other wrist. It was only a matter of seconds before he’d pulled his clothes back on, grabbed up the money from the dresser, and scooted out into the hall.
He couldn’t chance the elevator and the lobby. Who knew that these two goons were the only ones who had been sent to capture and eliminate him? He had seen the fire escape through the window at the end of the corridor when he’d been shoved into the room. The window didn’t want to cooperate on opening, but, feeling infused with superhuman strength fueled by the survival instinct, Jason muscled it open and scrambled down the fourteen stories of metal scaffolding before Chaz turned the shower off in the hotel room.

Did he dare go back to the apartment on R Street in Northwest D.C., near Logan Circle, that he shared with three other rent-boys to at least gather his shit together before he escaped town? Had he ever told the senator or any of his goons where he lived? He didn’t think so. The goons had always picked him up on the street—on 13th Street—when the senator wanted to be serviced—just like they had tonight.

Yeah, he thought he could chance it. He’d been stupid, though. In that last argument he’d had with Etheridge, he not only had revealed that he knew who Etheridge really was, but that this gave him some form of control over Etheridge. But he’d never have snitched on Etheridge—not that the senator could or would count on that, Jason now realized.




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Manhattan Kink

Manhattan Kink: A Boxed Set

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/650896

blurb:

A collection of two novels and a novelette set among New York’s wealthy kinksters: 1. College student Emily decides she wants to spend her life as a consensual slave and proves to be surprisingly assertive as she searches the Manhattan kink scene for a Master who can give her just the right mix of control, pain, and love. 2. The ethereal beauty and tormented emotional masochist Pipit, rejected by her Dominants because of her treacherous and manipulative personality, blames Emily for all her troubles and sets out to wreck her life. 3. An eminent chemistry professor, chair of her department and head of several learned societies, has always longed to be a kitten in her love life. On the night she has to break some bad news to a junior colleague, she may just get her wish.

Note for Literoticans:

These are revised versions (or second editions) of stories first published here: Slave Girl Emily, Pipit, and Kitten and the Wolf.

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Sentencing Cordelia

A short horror story, my first attempt at non-erotic fiction. It's free till the end of the month:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/652260

Blurb:

Cordelia Redman, a twenty-nine-year-old bank teller, has never broken a law in her whole life, as far as she knows. So it's a shock when she's arrested by police officers who seem to have no idea what crime she's supposed to have committed, and an even greater shock when they drive her not to the jail, but to the town green, where they place her on a platform in an iron collar suspended by a chain from an overhead beam. It's disconcerting that everyone who speaks to her in this place seems to be under a compulsion to blurt awkward truths—the most awkward and disturbing of which is that they're all eagerly looking forward to the spectacle of her death. As a festive crowd gathers, Cordelia begins to realize that they will surely get their wish if she can't quickly find a way out of her predicament. As her terror grows, so does her self-awareness: but will this new knowledge be enough to save her?

Excerpt:

“I don’t think you get this, Suzy. I’ve been standing here for like three hours, and my feet are getting really tired. If the time comes that I can’t stand up anymore, I’m going to die.”

“I understand,” said Suzy. “But what becomes of me if people stop coming to my shop? I’m not the only coffee shop in town, you know. It’s hard enough to compete with Starbucks—”

“But we’re best friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess.” It made Cordelia nervous, the way Suzy avoided meeting her eyes. “But what have you ever done for me, really?”

“Friendship isn’t just about ‘what have you done for me,’” said Cordelia. “There’s . . . there’s . . . good times, and . . . and sharing, um, feelings, and—”

“Those things are all well and good,” said Suzy, “but when you come right down to it, they’re not worth all that much. I’ll miss you when you’re gone, but I’ll get over it quickly—and I can always find another best friend.”

Cordelia stared at Suzy, not quite believing her ears. Then suddenly Suzy brightened, looked up, and made eye contact. She said, “They say when you’re strangled your skin turns blue. It has to do with lack of oxygen in the blood. How long do you think you can stay standing up? I’ve got a couple of things to do at the shop, but I want to be back in time to watch you die.”

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Triple-Blonde Study

BreaktheBar, award-winning Literotica author, has released his first ebook novella.


Triple-Blonde Study

When Grad student Peter needed a place to crash for the summer, his friend and long-time crush India offered him the basement apartment in the house she rents. Four Graduate students living together didn’t sound like it would be a problem, until Peter met the other two roommates. India is a bohemian gem, Ellie is like the perfect '60's housewife and Jules a walking bombshell. She might also be a little crazy.

Stuck in a house with three gorgeous blondes while the temperature rises and conditions become sweltering, it’s not just the weather that’s heating up as all three girls begin acting strangely, teasing and tormenting Peter. He's always been the good guy, always been in control and done the right thing, but now he's being tested by the women he lives with and he's feeling the pressure.


This is a Good Guy novella by B. Lebar, award-winning Literotica author and master of sexual tension.

Triple-Blonde Study includes exhibitionism, voyeurism, nudism, and group sex (MFF).


Excerpt
It was early in the morning before India and I normally headed to the gym and I'd woken up at my usual time. We both liked to shower before leaving home even though we would need to do it again after our workouts, and every morning India took hers before mine since she had a lot longer of a morning ritual than I did.

That Friday, when I walked into the bathroom, the shower was dry and hadn't been used. Assuming India had decided not to have one, I turned it on and stepped in once the temperature was right and began washing. That was when the bathroom door opened and the curtain flung back. India, naked, stood on the other side for a moment and then quickly got in as I moved back.
"Hey, sorry," she said. "I'm running super late, mind if we share?"

'Yes' would have been dumb and untruthful.

"Sure," I said awkwardly instead.

"Thanks," she said, quickly picking her own body soap off the rack hanging from the shower head. She started soaping herself up and I just stood there while she did it, watching the suds build and the water sluice it off as she rubbed her body.

"Um, sorry about, yeah," I said, quickly trying to turn away to stop from getting my erection too close to her.

She glanced over and grinned, "Oh, whatever. I've been walking around naked, we're in a shower together, of course you're gonna get hard." I started to wash myself again as well, finding it hard not to just sit and watch as India did her thing. What else was I supposed to do without making it fucking weird?

I was just reaching behind myself for my body wash again when India also turned, raising a leg to wash it, and bumped into my dick.

"Sorry, sorry," I said.

"No, my fault," she said, then went back to washing.

What the fuck is going ooooon, I thought.

"Mind doing my back?" India asked me, looking over her shoulder at me as she pulled her wet hair out of the way.

"Uuh," I stammered.

She laughed and shook her head with a grin, "Hah, I'm just kidding, Pete."

Then she proceeded to face me and wash her hair. Arms up, working the suds through her hair, her chest was pushed out and just begging for me to grab on to her breasts. To bury my face in them, to motorboat her and lick and bite and suck and- Suffice to say, the amount of things I wanted to do to my friends bosom as she washed her hair were numerous.

She rinsed, and then the process started over with conditioning. Chest out, arms up. Wash, wash, let it sit for a minute, rinse. By the time she was finished I was gripping the little handrail thing built into the shower with white knuckles with one hand and digging my nails into the palm of the other to stop from jerking off right there.

India smiled once the soap was all washed from her and looked down at my cock. "Thanks for sharing," she said, eyes coming back up to mine. "I'll let you get back to your shower now, plus whatever you need to do to tame that monster. Too bad I don't have the time to help finish what I caused."

And then she was out of the shower and had one towel wrapped around her body, another around her hair, and she was out of the bathroom.

I closed the shower curtain, grabbed my dick and jerked off. Twice. I didn't even remember to wash my own hair. It wasn't until after, at the gym while I was spotting her on the weights, that I realized what she had said at the end, and then I had a boner to contend with in the middle of a public place.”

Links
Amazon
B&N Nook
Kobo
 
Released by BarbarianSpy on 6 August, an anthology of GM stories set in Africa, Africa Tails, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt:


BLURB:

Africa, for many of us, is still that dark, mysterious continent, as described by a character in one of the stories in this anthology, a vast expanse allowing “the sloughing off of convention and restriction to something more basic, closer to pleasure and desire, when we enter the different world.”

Africa Tails joins a series of meaty gay male anthologies by the well-traveled, gay high-life lived habu that highlight and savor various regions of the world. This twenty-story collection of African tales (focusing on getting tail), ten stories from earlier habu collections and ten stories never before published, celebrates the primeval sensuality of the dark continent in tales of history, intrigue, romance, interracial coupling, triumph, defeat, fetish, and taboo.

The stories are sectionalized by region: north, northwest, central, and south. All are connected to Africa, although not all are set in Africa. Some are contemporary, while several are set in historical times. All are loaded with hot, steamy gay sex.

Enjoy your time in Africa.


TAGS:

anal sex, anthology, beach sex, fetish, first time, gay African, gay BDSM, gay first time, gay love, gay rough sex, group sex, hot gay sex, hunks, mystery, rough seduction, short stories, interracial, historical, pirates, bondage frottage, docking, sounding, wineries, espionage, spies, car race, supernatural, horror, churchmen


EXCERPT:

From “Dear Joanna”

“I had hoped to have seen more of you before now,” Heyward said, turning hooded eyes to me that seemed to bear a heavier, more suggestive meaning than the words might otherwise if he hadn’t put a hand my knee under the table as he said it. A chill went up my spine, causing a tightening in my groin that I was unable to control. I looked at him with a new understanding of why he had hired me, and I let myself think of what he would look like undressed—with a paunch surely, but he looked muscular enough—to wonder about the size of him between his legs.

“We thank you kindly for inviting us here,” Paxton said. “We are, of course, ready and willing for whatever is your pleasure, eh, Peter?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” I answered, very much aware that both men were looking directly at me, assessing me. Was I still on sufferance for this position in the company, I wondered. Was I still to be tested—and in a way that was becoming increasingly obvious? Later I was to understand that wasn’t a question at all.

The dinner was excellent. Not much less than I was used to in the confines of my own family, of course, but as my family had disowned me, I could not count on rising to this level for the foreseeable future—at least until I turned my life around and made a success of it. I thought of Joanna. As a vicar’s daughter, she certainly was suitable enough for the rise back to where I had started. She was so central to my future plans.

“Shall we withdraw to the men’s salon?” Heyward asked, breaking into my contemplation. It wasn’t really a question, though. In the salon, both the cigars and the liquor were excellent and free-flowing. Paxton heavily indulged in both as if this was a rare treat for him, which I’m sure it must have been. For me, it was a memory of all that I had lost and needed to work hard to regain. It seemed like Paxton was a bottomless pit, a sponge soaking all of it up without effect. I’m sorry to say that it had rather more of an effect on my control of myself. Neither Heyward nor Paxton, however, let up on plying me with more. Heyward himself was very limiting in both his smoking and drinking, while being the generous host for Paxton and me.

The conversation also became less formal than it was in the dining room and increasingly pointed. At length, Heyward leaned over to me where the three of us were sitting in a tight circle in high-backed chairs that had the effect of separating us off from the rest of the salon. He placed a hand on my knee again, which I looked at in some distracted sense of familiarity with some connection to my past but one that I was a bit too cloudy from the drink to directly identify. Then he put the other hand on my other knee. He coaxed my thighs apart and boldly looked down at my crotch. Because of the styles of the time, I knew he could see the line of my cock in my trousers and knew that I was hard. He looked up into my eyes and smiled.

“I asked you two to dinner this evening because I always feel so free when the ship has cleared the influence of Europe and moved into the realm of Africa—and especially so as we cross the equator as we did late this afternoon. I feel I am in a whole new world, with customs and rules so much freer of those of Europe. Do the two of you feel it too—the sloughing off of convention and restriction to something more basic, closer to pleasure and desire, when we enter the different world.”

“Yes, always feel it too,” Paxton echoed. “It’s like I feel I am a new man, a freer, separate man from when I’m in England. You too, Peter?”

I was confused. I hadn’t felt anything of the kind until then, but now that they mentioned it . . . and because I knew it was what they wanted me to say, I answered. “Yes, I think I can feel something of that too. Although it’s my first time out of Europe, so I guess it will come more in time.”

“Yes, I think you’ll feel freer, more adventuresome in Africa,” Paxton said.



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Love and Magic

Released by Torquere Press on 27 July

BLURB:

Kiv never expected to see a battle, let alone fight in one. She came to the island kingdom of Escot to use her magic to help people, not to kill them, but a petty, pointless civil war has made her job as Court Wizard difficult and then impossible. When the hostilities come to a head, Kiv finds herself on the battlefield, supporting one army against another.

On the other side, there is Tallas, a wizard more dangerous than three thousand swords and a woman more intriguing that than any Kiv has ever met. The battle will end in blood and death, as battles do, but for Tallas and Kiv, the end is only the beginning.

EXCERPT:

Kiv woke with a start, wondering if she was dead. She cast about with her senses, both physical and magical, and decided she was alive after all. She was lying in a bed of golden wood on soft white cotton sheets under a green wool blanket. Overhead, she saw the silky blue canopy of a large tent, with the curtains on all four sides tied back to let in the morning sun, set in an open field without another structure in sight. The rain had finally stopped, though the sky was still gray.

She climbed out of bed, noticing that she was in nothing but her underthings, and looked for something to wear. Her clothes – long wool skirt, wide leather belt, white cotton blouse, and heavy wool cloak – were folded neatly on a table beside the bed, all the grime and gore of battle washed away, with her purple silk Court Wizard hood and her gnarled manzanita wand sitting next to the pile. She dressed and went looking for the kind soul who had taken care of her. Tallas – of course it was Tallas – was just outside the tent, her back to Kiv, cooking a skillet of something over a low fire that smelled amazing.

https://reandeen.com/2016/07/27/love-and-magic/
 
Snow Mistress

Book 2 in Forbidden Secrets series.

After nearly a month together, Leo wants Ursa to move in with him. The sex is scorching and the kink enthralling, but she is awed by this magnificent man and is unsure that she can hold her own in his world. Just before they head off to the November pleasure party in Tahoe, Ursa’s jealous friend shakes her confidence and undermines her belief that she can hold on to a man like Leo.

Ominously, even the jaunty pony-play girls are not happy, and their cruel tricks are not the sort of pain-play anyone wants. And Leo’s ex-lover is there. She tries to reclaim what was hers with devastating consequences that leave Ursa and Leo reeling. Manipulation and jealousy might rip them apart unless they trust each other and the newfound love they share.

Buy Links:

Elloras Cave: https://www.ellorascave.com/product/snow-mistress/
All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-snowmistress-2085733-147.html
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Mistress-Fo...0770777&sr=8-1&keywords=snow+mistress#navbar
 
Launched by BarbarianSpy on 20 August 2016, another visit to the GM paradise Key West, in Key Westing, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt:


BLURB:

A fortunate temporary assignment to Key West, on a Castro “death watch,” provides the perfect opportunity to experience all that Key West can offer.


TAGS:

beach sex, biker, docking, gay beach, gay couple, gay partners, gay sex, Key West, multiple partners, outdoor sex, piercings, rough sex, transsexual


EXCERPT:

It was snowing in Washington, D.C., and after battling skidding cars on the Beltway for an extra two hours trying to get into work, I suddenly decided that it was time for me to head someplace sunny. It was my lucky day after all, because when I hit the office, everyone was in an uproar about reports from Havana that Cuban dictator Fidel Castro once more was on his deathbed. Bad news for Fidel and great news for me. I was a Caribbean and Spanish language specialist and, within hours, I was flying off to our little unit on Key West, the last of a chain of islands dribbling down from Florida toward Cuba.

I was able to hold on to my “put-upon” stoic face in negotiations with my employers over the short-notice, unknown duration assignment to negotiate four days of expenses-paid vacation time on top of the news media death watch on Castro no matter how long it lasted. Time away from snow-clogged Washington at the gay capital, warm, and sunny-beached Key West. How could I have been so lucky? And to add to that, when I called my significant other, Brian, he jumped at the chance to join me on the trip. So, I slogged back to our apartment, and we threw our skimpy Speedos into a suitcase, and we were off.



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Faded Love by M.A. Church; M/M Contemp romance

Faded Love is a 2nd edition. This is a 13K short.

Tags: romance>LGBTQ>Gay Romance>Contemporary Romance>Short Stories

8/23/16-Best Seller List at ARe.


Blurb:

People often say that the true perfection of the human form is in its imperfections.

Obviously those people never lived a life of a model. Perfection is flawless. Desired. Demanded. Superstar model Ashley is living the dream. As one of the top models in the world, anything he desires is at his fingertips. Perfection on the surface hides human flaws, though. The one thing Ashley fears? Commitment. If it isn’t broke, why fix it? He and his lover, Will, have the perfect relationship. Or so Ashley thinks until Will starts pushing for more.

Then a moment in time shatters the illusion of his perfection, and Ashley finds the very basis of his existence torn. Bruised. Wrecked and destroyed. Scarred.

A near-fatal car accident leaves Ashley permanently disfigured, his career in a tailspin. Only his lover, Will, has a chance to pull him out of his depression. Can Ashley see there is more to him than just a perfect face? Scars can fade, but true love never will.



Excerpt:

Chapter One
It was late evening when Ashley stumbled into his apartment and dropped his bags next to the door. The California shoot had gone well, but the flight back had been a nightmare. He had to jog the length of a concourse, while doing this incognito, and barely made it to the gate on his connecting flight. The damn attendants were closing the doors as he got there.

Then they ran into turbulent weather, which his stomach hadn’t appreciated. Plus his in-seat video monitor was malfunctioning and inoperable. Good thing he brought a book. But it did irk him that everyone else could watch movies and TV shows.

Ashley lurched to the bedroom and glared at the clock next to the bed. “Shit. I should call Will.” Ashley scrubbed at his face. He was stressed and tired. What he should do was go to bed, but he was too tired to sleep… if that made any sense.

He jumped when his cell rang and, recognizing the ringtone, fished it out of his pocket. Should he answer it? He missed Will, but lately things had been tense. He cared for the other man, probably more than anyone else in his life. The sex was good, and they enjoyed each other’s company.

Things between them were easy and loose. Open. Ashley liked the hands-off approach they were taking toward their relationship, which was why he couldn’t understand why suddenly Will was pushing for more. It stopped ringing, and he sighed.

Standing around staring at his phone certainly wasn’t going to relieve his tension. He could either get drunk then have to sweat the calories off tomorrow, or he could call Will and work off the tension that way.

It was a no-brainer. He unlocked his cell and called Will back.


Buy Link:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Faded-Love-M-Church-ebook/dp/B01KR0AMRI
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-fadedlove-2090291-149.html
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/659768


Author Bio:
M.A. Church is a true Southern belle who spent many years in the elementary education sector. Now she spends her days lost in fantasy worlds, arguing with hardheaded aliens on far-off planets, herding her numerous shifters, or trying to tempt her country boys away from their fishing poles. It’s a full time job, but hey, someone’s gotta do it!

When not writing, she’s on the back porch tending to the demanding wildlife around the pond in the backyard. The ducks are very outspoken. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, and they have two grown children.

She was a finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Awards, runner up in the 2015 Rainbow Awards, and is a member of Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America.


Author Links:
Blog * Twitter * Facebook * The Harvest FB fan page * Goodreads * Amazon * E-mail*
 

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Launched on 3 September 2016 by BarbarianSpy, the third in a GM trilogy on the American Revolution period, Soldier Spy by Dirk Hessian (a pen name of sr71plt).

The earlier works in this trilogy include Colonel’s Treasure, on the exploits of the young American spy, Rob Winston, in the American Revolutionary War’s Mohawk Valley campaign, and To the Hessian Hills, the tale of a young German mercenary captured in the Battle of Saratoga during the Revolutionary War, his survival by satisfying the desires of men, and his march from the New York colony to, and imprisonment in, the Hessian Hills near Thomas Jefferson’s home in Charlottesville, Virginia.

All three books are included in the forthcoming paperback
.


BLURB:

The New York City islands of Manhattan, Staten Island, and Long Island were occupied by the British during virtually the entire American Revolutionary War from 1775 to beyond the war-ending Treaty of Paris in 1783, with both the early and the last shots of the war being fired there. Some seven thousand Americans who were British sympathizers sailed away with the British when they left.

The story of the occupation of this major American city during the Revolutionary War years is told here in the third of the Dirk’s America’s Founding Collection trilogy in the story of the meetings and separations of the Continental Army artillery solder, Lieutenant Douglas Bester, and his nominally British-sympathizing spy younger lover, Timothy Grady. The lives of these two bittersweet lovers intertwine through struggle and misunderstanding from the first British cannon barrage of lower Manhattan, through the winter in Valley Forge, to the British withdrawal from New York in 1783.


TAGS:

American Revolution, British ships, British sympathizer, domination, double penetration, gay adventure, gay anal, gay romance, hardship, historical, intrigue, male brothels, military, New York City, older-younger, revolutionary soldier, revolutionary war, rough sex, spies


EXCERPT:

A well-formed and outgoing military officer, Bester had no trouble finding a place at a table in the crowded tavern. His friends were calling for ale for him even as he cast off his cloak, hanging it on a peg by the door. He moved across the room, through boisterous clusters of men, to be offered a pipe as he sat at his friends’ table in a cloud of smoke and noise hovering over the tavern room. He had hung his uniform coat up with the cloak and now become just one of the many men in the room in a billowy white cotton shirt, navy blue britches, and gray stockings. He wasn’t just another man in the room, though. He was particularly well put together, his black hair tied off with a ribbon at the back of his head, rugged and dark facile features strikingly marked by hazel eyes, a muscular torso, and well-turned thighs and calves. He stood a full head above most of the men in the room and outweighed them as well, although he would be described as solid rather than heavy. He could wrestle any man in the tavern to submission and all there recognized that he could. He’d done so for sport on many an occasion, wrestling only in his britches and showing the curly black matting of hair on his chest and arms. He was truly a man’s man and in his prime.

He also had a nature that most men in the colonies didn’t have—and even fewer willingly revealed. He was attracted to other men rather than women, and at this particular moment he was in great need of release. Thus it was that he was particularly observant when his mug of ale was delivered by a tavern boy—not a boy, really, a young man—although all servers in taverns were called boys. This one was one Bester had not seen in Fraunce’s Tavern before. He was sure he would have remembered seeing him before, as just the sight of this one set Bester’s juices going.

The young man was sandy haired and slim. He was considerably younger than Bester and yet looked to be in his majority—which, in itself, piqued Bester’s interest. . . . A charge went through Bester’s body as the ale was delivered, because their hands touched in the transfer of the mug and the young man looked down into Bester’s eyes and the rugged soldier caught the unmistakable smile of interest. . . .

Bester immediately felt himself starting to go hard, but when he looked up again, the young man was gone. He hadn’t gone far, though. He had returned to the bar to pick up more mugs of ale and he was distributing them around the tavern. But he kept looking back in Bester’s direction, and despite the conversation at the table on the status of the British presence and of various colonial leaders’ calls for a break with Britain, Bester found himself frequently picking out where the young, lithe, sandy-haired server was in the large, smoke-filled room.

He saw that the young man did keep looking back at him, but he noticed that the server also was listening intently to the conversations at the tables in the small groups of men standing about, as if he was gleaning as much of what was being said as he could. This disturbed Bester a bit. He had moved into a conversation at his table about the capabilities and ranges of the cannon in the nearby battery at the tip of Manhattan, but seeing the interest being displayed by the tavern boy, he bit off what he was going to say next. . . . He went silent, hoping that those in conversation at his table wouldn’t notice that he had clammed up.

Going silent, though, permitted more attention to go to observation, and it became increasingly evident the tavern boy was eyeing him and conveying an invitation. When, after looking meaningfully in Bester’s direction, the young server moved to the back of the tavern room and then into the beaded-curtain-covered doorway of a corridor leading to the back of the building, Bester excused himself on the excuse of the call of nature and followed through the door.



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Taming the Brat

Book 3 - Forbidden Secrets series

Vanderbilt Charles is accustomed to getting her way through beauty and manipulation. She wants Ursa’s man, but he rebukes her. With her world completely out of balance, Vans accepts an invitation from a roughneck cowboy to attend a party. A sex party.

The Dragon awakens Vans to her true nature. The powerful man unravels her knotted desires with just the right serving of pain. He whips her bottom to bright-red welts and she begs for more. Her lust is as hot as her flesh as he lures her to submit. He introduces her to pony play, dressing her in leather straps, a chastity belt and anal plug, pushing her to ultimate pleasure. But the brat’s jealousy might ruin everything before she realizes the dominant man right in front of her is perfect.

Excerpt:
“So cocky!” she hissed, squinting at the perfect, crisp handwriting. It didn’t match the rough, filthy cowboy who’d haunted her at the shop. His words resonated in her, making her stomach tighten in delicious spasms she’d never felt. This wasn’t a fumbling boy. This was a man who knew what he wanted. For the first time in almost a month she could muzzle the green-eyed monster.

A box sat in the seat beside her, wrapped with a bright-blue ribbon that reminded her of his eyes. Grinning, feeling like it was an early Christmas, she pulled the bow open and took the top off the package. Inside nestled an elaborate sequin-covered mask. It rippled with blues and greens like flowing water, and at the temples flared a pair of gossamer fairy wings. The rest of the outfit matched the theme—flimsy gauze-like silk fabric with sparkling gemstones affixed to it.

“Pony play or fairy play?” she murmured to herself and pulled the corset out. It was made of leather, dyed brilliant azure and green to gleam like metal. At the bottom lay a pair of pumps with tall heels, embellished with delicate flowers on the sides and over the toes and a strap that would close around her ankle.

It made her feel strange, looking over the heels. Cinderella must have felt that way. She cuddled one of them in her hands, frowning at the label on the bottom. Jimmy Choo, size 7. Her size. All of it overwhelmed her and she curled into her seat and stared out the window at the traffic. Tahoe house. It was going to be a very long drive.

She dabbed at her tears and sipped her drink and wiggled her feet into the beautiful new pumps, admiring them at the end of her long, shapely legs. Oh yes, I was meant for this. This is the way it should be.

They stopped at a hotel where she would freshen up and change into the clothes and after packing the box again, she stepped out and scanned the parking lot. There was certainly an abundance of fine, fancy cars parked there. As she followed the chauffeur to the hotel room she spotted the Bentley.

That motherfucker and the fat bimbo were here too? The green-eyed monster took no time waking up and shuddering the cage of her ribs with massive jaws. She hugged the box against her chest and scanned the hotel but it wasn’t like she could find him.

The chauffeur noticed her pause. “Are you feeling all right? Would you like me to carry the package for you?”

“No.” She shook her head and hugged the box a little harder.

The man’s mouth curved into a slow smile. “As you wish. If you need anything, I will be standing here until you are ready to depart.” Face averted, he stepped aside from the door to put his spine against the frame, standing at attention.

As she moved past him, she admired the broad shoulders and confident stance. Something vaguely familiar about his profile nagged at her as the door closed behind her.

Most of the costume was easy to put on. Aside from the mask, the rest of it hardly covered her. Only the corset offered some challenges. She had it mostly laced up when a knock rattled the door. “Ma’am, if you need any assistance…”

Sighing down into her breasts, she strode to the door and flung it open. The kind chauffeur wore a simple black domino mask now and smiled at her impishly before making the turn-around movement with his hand. She did so, presenting her back to him and he deftly finished the lacing.

“You’re awfully good at this.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he murmured. His breath tickled her shoulder.

“Do you ever go to these parties?” she asked, glancing over and meeting his eyes through their masks. She hadn’t noticed before how very blue his eyes were either.

“Sometimes,” he answered, brushing a knuckle along her arm from shoulder to elbow. “Do you like the clothes, lady?”

“Yes,” she breathed, feeling her eyebrows draw together. She blinked at her driver. “Wait…are you—” She couldn’t believe she’d not paid more attention to him. Now that he was so close to her, touching her, she could swear he was the cowboy. Those eyes and their electric intensity were not something she could easily forget. But shaved and clean and…he was a driver? But—

“Don’t forget your token,” he murmured, attaching it to her shoulder without meeting her eyes. “We should get you into the car. Leave your things here. We’ll return for them at the end of the weekend.” Stepping away from her, he moved to stand stiffly beside the door with an amused little smile.

She squinted at him but his gaze was now fixed across the parking lot. Son of a bitch. She was so confused. He turned before she could say more, his long legs carrying him toward the parking lot again.

It wasn’t the Rolls he led her to but another limo, a newer one. He waved off the doorman so he could whisk the door open for her and hand her inside. His fingers lingered on her hip just a little too long.

She jerked a look over at him and he smiled. Azure eyes twinkled under the hat and mask as he winked. Her mouth fell open on questions but he drew away. The door closed sharply, thumping her bottom. As she stumbled forward, a chorus of bright laughter greeted her.

“Hey,” she greeted the strangers, arranging herself between two tall women in costumes twice as elegant as hers. The one in silver feathers looked like a dove. The other wore the golden headdress of a lioness. Someone offered her a glass of champagne. It did not compare to the Ace of Spades she’d enjoyed earlier.

“First time?” Lioness asked her, green eyes looking down her nose at her, raking her with cold judgment.

Oh yes, Vans could handle that just fine. She lifted the glass to her lips, remembered Stepmother’s cruel haughtiness and sipped. “Just giving it a try,” she said primly. “I don’t really think playing dress-up is my thing but…why not?”

“It is cut throat,” Lioness informed her. “Tell her, Dove.”

Dove, slim and regal, also looked down her nose at her from the other side. “The patrons can be brutal. You have to behave yourself and make sure you get the safe word in case things get bad. Unless you’re a real pain slut, it can be a bit much. Just watch yourself. If a guest has their eye on a particular patron, it can get ugly.”

“But the rules say—”

The women filled the limo with their tittering laughter. When it stopped, Lioness pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. “Oh, you are adorable. The rules only work when they are followed. It doesn’t stop anyone from bending them enough to get what they want. Or some people aren’t in public play spaces when bad things happen. No one to cry out to while you’re being beaten.”

“But that’s not—”

The women laughed again.

“So cute. You really are a girl scout. Precious delicate Faery. Well, do play your hardcore weekend, dear. Then you can go back to your PTA meetings and cookie baking,” Lioness said, her green eyes glinting. “Stay out of the way of those who live this full-time. You’ll get your lovely little ass hurt. Understand me?”

Vans felt the insults slide off her as she lifted her glass in a toast. “Let’s just make sure you don’t fuck with me. All right? You might be hot shit here at your play party, behind a mask, but don’t think I won’t tear it off you and find out who you are and ruin you in the real world if you get in my way. Do you understand me?”

That shut them up and she looked around the interior. Their self-important smirks fell away and they regarded her with wariness. Good. Fucking uptight bitches.

She put the glass aside without taking another sip, flicking her fingers to indicate it wasn’t good. Instead she turned her attention to the window, her thoughts in tangles.

Did she want a hardcore weekend? Was she a pain slut? The questions didn’t horrify or shock her, she simply didn’t know. No one ever dared try anything like that with her. She would have stomped some nuts if someone tried to hurt her. Thoughts of Cowboy not just trying it but doing it made her feel flushed and needy.

Hurt me, a small, eager voice dared him.

She checked the token, adjusting it so it displayed the dragon. A woman gasped and she looked up to see Lioness gawking at her. Dove shifted away slightly. She held their gazes as though she understood their response. They didn’t know who they were just fucking with.

To be fair, she wasn’t sure who she was fucking with either.

Chauffeur? Cowboy? Someone else completely?

She was out of her mind to do this!

Buy Links:

Elloras Cave: https://www.ellorascave.com/product/taming-the-brat/
All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tamingthebrat-2086117-354.html
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Taming-Forbi...id=1473304961&sr=8-3&keywords=taming+the+brat
 
Launched by BarbarianSpy on 17 September 2016, a coauthored GM Romance, A Season in Galicia, by Shabbu, from Lit. authors Sabb and habu (a pen name for sr71plt).


BLURB:

Using their two-perspective approach of coauthoring, American author, habu, brings the retiring American lawyer, Paul, to Spain’s Galicia region in hopeless pursuit of love of a younger Spanish guitarist, and Australian author, Sabb, in turn, has brought the younger Australian, Alex, to Galicia by way of England and as secretary to a Spanish-British author who has returned to Galicia to die. As the two move closer together through networking and the process of rebuilding their lives in their new habitat, Paul goes through a succession of emotionally unsatisfying casual affairs and the frustration of renovating a derelict village house. At the same time, Alex has casual affairs of his own while turning the sprawling mansion he has inherited into a B&B. Both, in their more mature phase of life—and whether they consciously understand it or not—are seeking a more stable relationship. And quite possibly, without knowing it, they are finding what they need as they drift toward each other.


TAGS:

adjusting, coping, dogs, Galicia, Galician wine, gay anal, gay love, gay mature, gay relationships, gay romance, gay Spaniard, gay vet, gay veterinarian, grape vines, house renovating, Internet house buying, Labrador, multiple partners, networking, relocation, Spain, stone house, vineyards, winemaker


EXCERPT:

Edward Michaels had been the last of a now-extinct breed, I thought, as I left the Spanish churchyard after his interment.

I missed him badly. Always well dressed, polite, and well mannered, he had been quietly confident of his own worth and had always avoided publicity and the bright lights. A true English gentleman of the old kind, I had always thought. And in our own way, we had been lovers. In recent months he had behaved publicly as if I were his partner and we had married weeks before he died. We had done this more for the legal protection it gave me than because we needed to. And now he was gone I was the owner of Pazo Carbello, a large old stone manor house in Galicia that was still in need of work, along with rather extensive fincas, or vineyards. The last two years had seen those extended and revitalized but there was more work to do.

I had met Edward when I first arrived in England from Australia. Having admired his writing greatly, I had written to him, through his publisher, telling him how much I enjoyed his humor and wit and his writing, and that I was coming to England in a few months and would like to buy him lunch. I had received a polite reply inviting me to get in touch closer to my arrival. I had. I was excited at the possible opportunity to meet one of my favorite authors face to face.
He chose the restaurant, of course, the Rio Mino. It was in a village outside London that took me a morning train trip to reach, and it was a long walk to get to the restaurant. He had parked his old Rolls Royce in front of it when he arrived as if it were in his private parking place. I was amused by the car and impressed by him, dressed smartly in a navy pinstripe suit that fit his lean frame perfectly and was obviously expensive. He was polite and the conversation was engrossing and easy. It was quickly obvious that we had common interests and tastes. We laughed honestly at each other’s jokes but were both serious about other things and shared a love of nature. He was over thirty years older than I was.

At the end of lunch he asked me if I was looking for work as he was considering employing a new secretary, or “office person/dogsbody,” as he put it, for a few months. I said “yes.” I had come to England for a short break to see some relatives and immerse myself in some history. I was a writer too, but a not very successful one, and was hoping a holiday, a break away from the routine of working and writing, might provide inspiration for a more successful book. An extended paid holiday in England working for Edward was a golden opportunity for me. He assured me I’d have plenty of free time to write if I took the job, but I’d have taken it anyway.

We met again the next day. The local cab driver picked me up from the village inn where I had spent the night and took me to Edward’s house. It was a beautiful large, two-story, seventeenth-century country house with four big diamond-paned windows at the front surrounded by ivy-coated stone walls. It was the sort of house tourists all want to see when they go to the English countryside and the sort people dream of living in. . . .

Edward was from a well-connected family, his mother had been the niece of an English duke, though the details about his father and early life in his online biographies were vague. I had thought from his writing that he was probably gay but knew he had been married. A possible relationship had not been my motivation in wanting to meet him, and I had been relieved that he had not invited me to his house the first night to discuss the job he was offering.



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Blood Feathers

Book 4 - Forbidden Secrets series

Marcie has hosted sex parties for years, but has yet to find the right partner. Love has never been an option for her, but she has a soft spot for romance. Everything changes when she finds herself hopelessly entangled with Mano, a man layered in secrets, who is not what he seems. He is even more dangerous than he is beautiful.

She is hopelessly lost in love. They can’t keep their hands off each other and the sex is intense and overwhelming. Mano takes her ever higher, satisfying her deepest desires as he helps her confront her fantastical new reality. In the whirlwind that follows, the Mistress finds herself transformed and must come to grips with the discovery of who and what she really is.

Ellora's Cave: https://www.ellorascave.com/product/blood-feathers/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Blood-Feathe...qid=1475122141&sr=8-9&keywords=blood+feathers
 
Launched on 1 October 2016 by BarbarianSpy, a GM short Romance paralleling the life of political novelist Gore Vidal, Need to Be Needed by habu (a pen name of sr71plt):


BLURB:

As a young, handsome, charismatic politically connected best-selling novelist, Gore Vidal was infamous for cruising the New York City gay bathhouses for nightly one-night-stand encounters. That is until he met Howard Austin there and took him home for what turned out to be a fifty-three-year, sometimes volatile, live-in arrangement. Need to Be Needed is inspired by this story, exploring the underpinnings of such a relationship in the guise of political novelist Cole Temple and Mike, the young man he took home from the New York baths and kept and dominated—a young man who gave up all his own dreams to serve his charismatic, self-absorbed, demanding, and assuming partner.


TAGS:

bareback, cheating, control, double penetration, gay cruising, gay domination, gay live in, gay relationship, gay romance, gay singer, interracial, New York baths, novelist, sacrifice, threesomes


EXCERPT:

It was uncanny. Every time I looked out into the audience, he was looking at me. This despite having two young men hanging off him. And I knew that look. He wanted me. With all the young men at the Chelsea Bathhouse who were available to him, he wanted me.

Cole Temple was a legend at the bathhouse. He was even a bigger legend than just in the New York bathhouse scene. He was one of the foremost political novelists of our age. A lion of a man, the body of a Zeus into his forties and movie-star good looks, he famously was perhaps the most openly narcissistic and egotistical public figure in America in the current era. He was bigger than life, flamboyantly homosexual in an Oscar Wilde way before that became any sort of fashion and able to bring it off while still being acceptable in the halls of power and entertainment. His was the only opinion that mattered when he was holding court at a gathering. He sucked all of the air out of the room and still everyone there willingly laid down and opened their legs to him—emotionally, certainly, but also physically when he demanded it.

And he demanded servicing daily—often nearly hourly.

His father had been a major baseball player, his mother a raving beauty, whose father, a U.S. senator, had been the head of a political dynasty. Cole was related to a first lady on this side of the pond, and multiple royal houses on the other side. He was the last person leading families wanted to invite to gatherings, but he was the first one they wanted to hear give a acid-tongue riff on other members of the family. Therefore, he never was left off the guest list.

His homosexual affairs with novelists and actors and more than one royal when he was barely legal were legendary. And he had become a major novelist and political commentator and book reviewer in his own right.

He had shown up at the Chelsea Bathhouse from the day it had opened, and was reputed to have fucked at least one young man at the bathhouse and taken another one home each night. He was both insatiable and ever hard. A joke was making the rounds that a molding of his cock was going to be marketed as a dildo.

And now he was sitting at a table in the first row as, I, wearing only a gold lamé G-string, wrapped myself around a pole on the stage in front of the Phil Gauteau Band and sang my little heart out.




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The Serpent's Kiss

I'm pleased to announce that my first novella with Uruk Press, The Serpent's Kiss, is now live!

The Serpent's Kiss: The Diabolical Seduction of Mrs. Evangeline Stone

Mrs. Evangeline Stone is a celebrated young journalist in Victorian London. Against her family's wishes, she sails across the Atlantic to Verderosa, the Black Zion, following rumours of White slavery. Verderosa is unique among the Dominions of the British Empire as a land where all men, White and Black, are truly equal. But this is no utopia. As Evie journeys deep into the seamy underbelly of Daltonville, she discovers dark secrets and even darker truths about herself.

The Serpent's Kiss is a 45,000 word alt history novella inspired by classic Victorian pornography and tinged with the supernatural. Featuring self-discovery, willing submission, corporal punishment and White women being dominated by multiple Black men, it is a must for all fans of interracial erotica. Dare you taste The Serpent's Kiss!
 
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The third novella in the series Brotherhood of Janus is available at Smashwords and the Kindle store.

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Brotherhood of Janus: Council Business

Brotherhood member John Carlson continues to help the Brotherhood Council clean up those Lodges that aren't following the rules of the society.

Excerpt:

Sarah was sitting next me, a death grip on the armrests, as the plane hit turbulence. I chuckled. It'd been two months since she joined the BID and became a Duchess of the Brotherhood. This was only the second time she needed to travel. That she was traveling with me, well that was a promise I made to her, even though we had made one trip together already. But that was to New York and was not a pleasant trip. We were now flying into Baltimore to investigate complaints made against the lodge there. Sarah was to be my partner at the gather for the weekend.

"Why didn't you tell me you were afraid of flying on our last trip?" I asked gently resting my hand on her arm.

"I didn't realize...oh fuck," Sarah cried as the plane dropped out of the sky. It stopped about a hundred feet down. I was hoping that didn't happen on approach. "Anyway I was so mad I don't remember the flight going and I was so happy coming home, I don't remember it either."

"It's fine dear, really." I chuckled kissing her cheek.

Sarah just looked at me, venom in her eyes. The plane again fell a few feet, then jumped back up. We would be descending into Baltimore within the next half hour. It would be a bumpy ride. Sarah cried out as the plane bounced again.

"How can you sit there so calm?" Sarah asked me.

"I have spent my life flying. And this is almost the smoothest ride I have ever had. The worst was in a C130 flying into Korea. A downdraft hit the plane just as we were touching down. Landing gear collapsed and we hit the ground hard. Good thing a 130 is built to take something like that in stride. It never flew again, but everyone on board survived. One hundred and fifty souls lived that day."

"Oh my god, why are you telling me that?" Sarah said, shock on her face. Her finger nails now digging into my arm.

"There is nothing to worry about. The quicker you realize that the better you will be able to cope with flying."

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Of what? Dying? Of course. But if it's going to happen, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it."

Sarah looked at me. She nodded her head, she visibly calmed down. She released my arm and her seat arm. She moved her hands to her lap and she took a deep breath, which she slowly let out.

"What do you do to keep from screaming?" she asked calmly.

"I usually sleep. I found I can get to sleep much faster the more turbulent the flight."

Sarah laughed, looked at me and laughed again. I smiled at her nodding. From that point forward she was never visibly afraid of flying again. She took my hand in hers and held it without crushing the life out of it.

The pilot announced we were starting our descent to BWI. The plane turned to the right and slowed. Sarah looked at me, concern showing in her eyes. I nodded.

"Here we go," I told her.

"What do you mean, here we go?"

"There, we're through the cloud cover. Look out the window. We will be flying down the valley into BWI."

"Holy shit," Sarah whispered as she saw how close we were to the ground. But that dropped away as we flew on.

Then the plane started to waggle from side to side. Sarah's eyes were once again filled with fear. I just smiled and enjoyed the ride. At the very last minute the pilot straightened the airplane out and touched down. Sarah sighed in relief.

"Holy shit," she whispered once more.

"Maybe next time we'll fly commercial into here...now there's a ride." I chuckled at her look.

We were in a Brotherhood Learjet. The Brotherhood had ten jets of various sizes. One had been allotted to me as a five hundred and the head of the BID. They had given me one of the medium sized ones, seating ten. Feldman and seven of his best always flew with me. Feldman's force had grown as the BID investigators grew. There were six investigators, three men and three women not counting me and Sarah. When each went in the field, an eight man Tac-Team would accompany them. We were still looking to add more, but that process would be long and arduous.

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Released by BarbarianSpy on 15 October 2016, a GM vampire Halloween offering, A Question of Restraint, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt:


BLURB:

In the setting of an escape on a train chugging across Bavaria in the first decade of the twentieth century, the handsome, charismatic, and enigmatic Baron von Richthoven, in the company of his friend and confidant, Otto Gensler, hunts a young, blond Heidleberg University student, Stefan Heinz, for sexual domination and release. The student is young, blond, and willing. The baron has unbridled, insatiable sexual needs. The baron also is a vampire.


TAG:

age difference, Bavaria, compulsion, domination, gay anal, gay sex, gay vampire, historical, horror, hunting, hunting lodge, possession, student, trains, voyeur


EXERPT:

“What do you see, Varick? Where are you going?”

I put out a restraining hand as the Baron von Richthoven brushed past me and out into the corridor of the first-class carriage of the train. I followed him as he moved toward the steps down to the platform of the Heidelberg rail station. The train had stopped here en route from where we started in Berlin—leaving hurriedly—and where we were headed in Munich. It was a time of retreat, and Varick had chosen his secret hunting chalet near Füssen, the Bavarian Alps, as his place of hiding—and hunting—at least for now. I had accompanied him to try to protect him from himself and because I didn’t have any other choice.

“I wouldn’t suggest leaving the train, Varick,” I called out to him as he was doing just that, his black silk cape billowing around his tall, trim body. “We have no idea how long the train will stand at this station.” I was speaking to his back, as he moved along the platform, his attention riveted over to the shadows of an iron column three tracks down that was helping to hold up the canopy over the concourse separating the end of the tracks from the station building. His gold lion-headed walking stick provided a staccato beat to his progress. He was an imposing man, dark and hawk-like while still being uncannily handsome. He still was in his forties—or so at least it appeared—although looking somewhat younger, and, as I well knew, he clearly was charismatic.

Neither that nor his title had kept him out of trouble in Berlin, however.

Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks and I almost ran into him. “There. Over there. See him, Otto?” He was pointing with his stick toward where his attention had been focused ever since he stood in our train compartment and gazed out of the window.

“No, Varick. You promised restraint. No more at least until we reach Füssen. You will have more free rein there to do as you wish, as you need.”

The young man—I knew it was the young man who Varick was focused on—was beautiful. His smile was radiant as he looked up into the face of his companion who had pulled him close into an embrace—obviously a farewell embrace. The young man’s curly blond hair was tussled and, in the beams of light filtering through the translucent glass canopy onto the platform, it looked like his head was swathed in a halo. He wasn’t tall, but he was perfectly formed. His clothes were those of a student, albeit an affluent one. Heidelberg was the home of a major university. It was at the end of a term, and it could be reasonably speculated that he was a student returning home and bidding farewell to a lover.




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Space Princess: The Fourth Rule

The first Space Princess adventure, which made its initial appearance here on Literotica, is now published in re-edited and enhanced form through the good people at Uruk Press.

Check out a free preview here!

The galaxy is full of wonder and adventure, but it can get cold and lonely in the depths of space. That’s why the gorgeous ladies of Space Princess Entertainment are on a mission of pleasure. No challenge is too big, no planet too distant and no party too wild! Let love rule among the stars!

Captain Titania Hollander is ecstatic to have been put in charge of the S.S. Ecstasy, spreading the Space Princess message across the galaxy. Dressed in her regulation bikini, she knows that she and her crewgirls can take anything that life throws their way. But their first mission to Kathol IV is no cakewalk. The Universal Broadcast Network seems like innocent entertainment for the planet’s television loving populace but with Golden Week approaching, Tania and the rest of the S.S. Ecstasy soon discover the network is hiding dark and degrading secrets.

Caution: The Space Princess series contains extreme sexual content and graphic depiction of mind control and otherwise dubious consent. Never fear! The crew of the S.S. Ecstasy find strength even in submission and always triumph over adversity.
 
A Demon's Lust

Anita, an apprentice wizard, hates demons, but needs to summon one to protect herself from her murderous rival apprentice, Trev. However, the demon Saban might just be more than she bargained for.

Saban is a Demon Lord, and bows to no mortal. To his shame, he is now bound as an apprentice wizard's familiar. He should hate Anita for what she has done to him, but, instead, is feeling something he's never felt before.

To read the free posted version, go here:
https://www.literotica.com/s/a-demons-lust-ch-01

To buy the book, which is better edited and includes a special bonus chapter, go here:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M6936V...qid=1477539330&sr=8-2&keywords=a+demon's+lust
 
Published on 29 October 2016 by BabarianSpy, the GM short Ranger Guided by habu (a pen name of sr71plt):


BLURB:

Nick has come to college an innocent young man, but rooming with the beautiful Trent he discovers that he is now lusting after men, Trent in particular. A need to escape his frustrations takes him into the nearby forest for a walk and leads to an unexpected encounter. But will he ever get Trent?


TAGS:

college students, gay first time, outdoor sex, park ranger


EXCERPT:

I didn’t go to the gym to work out after my class as I’d told my roommate, Trent, I was going to do. I don’t really know why I didn’t do that. I was just so nervous and frustrated and jumpy that a good workout was probably just what I needed, but my mind wasn’t on that sort of workout. My mind was on Trent, and I was just so embarrassed and confused and, yes, scared about this that I didn’t know what to do. Although I had avoided the thought for weeks, I was beginning to accept that I was in love, or at least in lust, with my college roommate.

I’d never had these feelings for another man before I’d arrived at this university, but I hadn’t been rooming with Trent more than a week before the feelings of desire began to build up in my body. It was all I could do not to let him see the physical evidence of his effect on me. I was sure that he’d be disgusted; he’d probably scream my infatuation throughout the dorm, and I’d be marked and laughed off campus.

Maybe it was forgetfulness that caused me to return to the room earlier than Trent thought I would rather than going to the gym. But maybe it was some sort of fate. I was deep in thought when I opened the door to the room. I could see that the shades were drawn and it was dark in the room, so I moved quietly, assuming that Trent was taking a nap on his bed. And at first I thought that was exactly what he was doing. He was stretched out on the bed on his belly, naked as usual. He always slept in the nude, which had been part of what had driven me crazy with lust. He had a deeply tanned, perfect body.



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Published by BarbarianSpy on 13 November 2016, a modern GM version of the Jezebel and Ahab story, Poison Pen, set in the wine country of South Africa, by habu, a pen name of sr71plt.


BLURB:

Set in South Africa’s wine country, "Poison Pen" is inspired by and parallels the biblical story of Jezebel and Ahab. Winery owner Samuel de Kock covets the sweeter tasting grapes of the vineyard owned by former family retainer and Zulu native Daniel Currie farther up the hill. Ever willing to scheme for what she wants, Samuel’s wife, Melissa, begins a poison pen campaign against Currie. Unknown to her, however, Currie’s grapes aren’t all that Samuel covets.


TAGS:

anal sex, domination, gay african, gay bdsm, gay love, gay rough sex, gossip, historical, hunks, interracial, mystery, scheming, short story, South Africa, wineries


EXCERPT:

“Where are you off to, Sam?” Melissa was cutting roses in the garden the next day when Samuel came out of the house and climbed into his BMW convertible.

“Up the hill to talk to Daniel again. One more stab at getting him to sell.” He did want Daniel to sell the BeauView Winery to him, but that wasn’t why he was going up there. He’d been keyed up since the previous day. The garden party had been broken up with the news that the pastor’s sister, Susan Toliver, took an overdose of sleeping pills after she’d abruptly left the party. This had set off a buzz, but it was more of a guarded, never directly stated discussion of why that might have been than how she was doing. And the ones who seemed to be in the know were all women—and most had had those lavender-colored stationery envelopes peeking out of their purses.

Melissa had seemed a little rattled afterward, after everyone had gone home, but she refused to tell him why. He knew that Melissa and Susan Toliver had had a little tiff about something a week before, but he didn’t think that Melissa gave the old maid much of a thought.

Samuel didn’t feel he could lie about where he was going. There were too many chances that workers in the vineyards would see where his car went and Melissa would somehow hear of it. Besides, it would be difficult for her not to know that he nosed the car uphill at the gateposts rather than down, and the only thing above Marymount on the hill was BeauView. He admitted that was where he was going; he just wouldn’t be truthful about why he was going up there.

“He doesn’t seem to be tempted by money,” Melissa said, her voice distant like she was lost in thought.

“He’s getting old and arthritic. And he has no heirs,” Samuel said. “He’ll give in sometime. I’ve asked him to sell to me but to stay on and manage it as long as he wants.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Melissa said. “He scares me. He’s a Zulu of the old sort. I don’t feel safe around him.”

Yes, I know, Samuel thought. You prefer the young, virile Zulus—ones with big cocks. She was referring to the earlier days of native uprisings against Apartheid, of course. He’d told her that Daniel’s family had been protective of his in those years, but she either hadn’t believed him or didn’t want to. She saw Daniel Currie as a threat. Samuel knew a reason why she should, but he was equally sure that she had no inkling of what the reasoning might be.

“He and his family are part of the history here,” Samuel said. “I won’t be the one who runs him off.”

“But you wouldn’t mind if someone else did, would you?” Melissa fairly hissed. “You never care if someone else does your dirty work.”

At that, he slammed the door of the car, brutally turned the key in the ignition, and made Melissa step back to avoid being pelted with gravel thrown off by spinning tires.

He was still angry and driving faster than he should on the curves up to the top of the hill through the vineyards—his and Currie’s, divided by a chain-link fence, Currie’s vines looking a whole lot better to him than his own.

When he pulled the convertible to a stop, it was next to where Currie, well-muscled, but gnarled, once an extremely handsome man and still with a commanding presence, was standing next to a water pump in the yard beside his rambling shack and sluicing himself off. He was naked except for low-slung cargo shorts that had been doused with water and clung to his still-muscular legs. His manhood also was low-slung and was easily traced in the soaked basket of his shorts.

“You would be wasting your time, son,” he turned and said, as Samuel brought the BMW to a stop next to him.

“I won’t stop asking you to sell, Daniel,” Samuel said. “But that’s not what I came for. I can’t stay away.”

“Then you best come into the house,” Daniel said. “And walk away from me. These days I feel like there are eyes everywhere.”



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The second Space Princess adventure, Ill-Met by Moonlight, is out now through the good people at Uruk Press! Previously posted as a story here on Literotica, now revised, re-edited and with substantial added content. (Not to mention dead sexy cover art by Lady Amaranthine!)

The galaxy is full of wonder and adventure, but it can get cold and lonely in the depths of space. That’s why the gorgeous ladies of Space Princess Entertainment are on a mission of pleasure. No challenge is too big, no planet too distant and no party too wild! Let love rule among the stars!

Dr. Naomi Bell, Chief Medical Officer of the S.S. Ecstasy, is ecstatic to be reunited with her Academy mentor, the eminent scientist Dr. Karl Cullen. It is a reunion that promises sexual and scientific breakthrough until the sudden arrival of a nude and threateningly hot alien woman on the ship. Haughty and naive, she introduces herself as Princess Arwyn and claims to be a Faerie.

But is Arwyn as naive as she seems? It is not long until she has Cullen and the rest of the men onboard the Ecstasy under her thumb. It is up to Bell, Captain Titania Hollander and the rest of the Space Princess officers to defeat Arwyn and her diabolical companion Oberon.

Caution: The Space Princess series contains extreme sexual content and graphic depiction of mind control and otherwise dubious consent. Never fear! The crew of the S.S. Ecstasy find strength even in submission and always triumph over adversity.
 
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