Aug 122022
 

I have been thinking about treasure.

I am currently doing the final edits to my next interactive book. At this point it is just rooting out typos and adding missing words. I no longer have to hold multiple timelines in my head or important facts like what color panties a character wears. As the editing continues, I feel my brain slowly let go of the old story and new ideas are creeping.

Weirdly, the new ideas are about what one finds when they poke around an ancient spaceship.

When I was a kid, my absolute favorite part of playing Dungeons and Dragons was rolling up random treasure. My group didn’t quite understand that the Dungeon Master should determine the treasure ahead of time so maybe the monsters could use them. No, our dumb asses thought that the players got to roll for treasure after the monster were defeated. It was an open social thing where we cheered and groaned as the dice determined that we had one potion of healing, one rope of climbing and four thousand gold pieces.

I don’t play role-playing games anymore but I have been thinking about those treasure tables. My tastes are certainly more adult now and I prefer science fiction to fantasy these days. I also care less for powerful weapons than I do for say, a pornographic miniature. Part of me is constructing the lost civilization that created these items while another part of me is wondering if it is more fun to find a part of a sex robot and it is to find an entire sex robot.

A small tiny part if me is screaming that there is no market for a document about lost sex toys from a hedonistic space-faring civilization but I got to tell you, that tiny part is a fun-ruiner and should not be listened to. Now that the idea if lodged in my head, I feel like I should at least give it a try.

My initial thoughts is that whatever I do produce will be system agnostic, so a reader could plug it into their own tabletop role-playing game. I also want the treasure to cover a range of tastes and not just be a cis-male wishlist. Cripes, do I dare take the plunge and get illustrations?

Either way, this should be a fun side project until I decide to get cracking on the sequel to the book I’m editing.

Aug 082022
 
What part of this woman is little?

Little Ego has the strangest dreams. They start off simple enough, maybe a present has arrived or she is taking a bath. But soon the present opens to reveal flowers that move on their own or the bath tub is shared with a crocodile. There is a hint of danger before the flowers begin to kiss in intimate places or the crocodile mounts Little Ego and she is brought to the heights of passion . . .

Which is when Little Ego wakes up. The bed is in disarray, Little Ego’s clothes are missing and there might be a nearby object that explains why she dreamed of such oddities. Little Ego makes one last comment about what her shrink will think and then the scene ends.

When I first encountered the stories of Little Ego by Vittorio Giardino, I thought they were fantastic flights of fancy. I loved the surreal nature of the dreams and the incredible leaps of imagination. Also very enjoyable is Giardino’s art of these exotic woman from some mystical place.

As an adult, I now know this exotic place was Europe, and that the stories were inspired by a children’s comic called Little Nemo by Winsor McCay. This is in fact a porn parody, right down to the character’s name.

But it is still luscious and gorgeous to look at. As a writer of porn parodies myself, I am in awe in how Giardino created something derivative but so damn sensuous. Dreams allow for impossible fantasies like an orgy with multiples of yourself, or making love with a pilot on the wing of a plane. Little Nemo has an idea is too precious to confine only to children’s stories.

And I also wonder how many fans of Little Ego admire the stories, the art and the sexuality without ever discovering the original? Is something a parody when it references something the viewer has no idea of? It shows how art evolves and creates, sometimes carrying a baton from a creator people might never know.

Jul 202022
 

Explorer’s Log: I have reached the star system designated “The Precision of the Queen’s Slap,” by Royal Astronomers. There are two planets in this system and both were once inhabited by the species I am now designating as Dead Fuckers-One. Radiation storms indicate that these planets were attacked with nuclear weapons of the same model as the previous dead planet I explored in the last system.

The second planet from the sun has a few more remaining structures so I will investigate there. Maybe someone survived and I can find out who hates them so much. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: All I know about Dead Fuckers-One is that they had a garden of plant-based sex toys and a lot of sexually attractive architecture. It is a fucking shame that I haven’t met a live one. They seem to be the kind of people I would have a lot in common with.

Vaquel Di stood by the side of the street. The ruins of various vehicles stretched up and down the road. Some vehicles had phallic shapes, while a few shaped with large curves that resembled ass and breasts.

The large size of the curvy vehicles made Vaquel a little self-conscious. She pressed a hand to her own chest, where her green skintight spacesuit clung to her breasts. Vaquel’s tits were big enough to fill her hand and then some, but they still felt small in proportion to these vehicles. This was a species that liked tits and they liked them big.

On the side of the street were a row of chairs. The chairs were made of a durable plastic that was partially melted. Every other chair had a thick phallus emerging from the front of the seat while the other chairs had a similarly placed hole that went into a long sleeve.

Vaquel admired the chairs. They were clearly designed to sexually satisfy people. She wished that she could try one on but the background radiation was at a dangerous level. It was bad enough that she had to wear one of her more resistant suits for this mission.

The chairs faced the street and were grouped next to a sign. Vaquel tried to read the sign. The language program uploaded inside her brain was convinced that the markings were a theoretical language named Ebrima. A slight headache pulsed as she tried to make sense of the words.

The sign read, “Bronze Angel Lion.”

There was a beep on Vaquel’s wrist communicator. It was Chairbot, her loyal robot and sextoy. Vaquel tore her eyes from the sign and felt the headache subside. With her eyes closed, she tapped the communicator.

“Mistress, I am detecting a radiation storm approaching your location,” Chairbot said. “The intensity of the storm exceeds the safety limits of your suit. You should return to the ship before your wonderous ass is damaged.”

Vaquel smiled and dimples formed on her brown cheeks. Compliments were the best painkillers. She opened her eyes and avoided looking at the sign.
“I’m on my way,” she responded. “This trip has been a bust. It doesn’t look like anyone survived and I am still no closer to understanding Dead Fuckers-One.”

Something flickered to Vaquel’s left. An orange beam of light shot into the sky from somewhere in the ruins of the city. It cut through the perpetual haze like a laser.

“Mistress, I’m detecting strange energy readings a kilometer from your location!”

Before Vaquel could answer, the bright orange light pulsed. A wave of orange energy exploded outward from the spear of light. Vaquel dove for cover behind one of the plastic chairs.

The orange energy phased through obstacles with ease. Vaquel curled into a ball as the energy passed through her. There was a brief stinging sensation on her skin followed by a cooling like she had been dipped into cold water.

“Huh,” Vaquel said, slowly standing back up. “That wasn’t bad at all.”

Overwhelming need made her gasp. Her pussy was dreadfully empty. There was a void between her thighs as deep and as insatiable as any gravitational singularity. Every millimeter of her sex walls ached to be touched.

Drool fell from Vaquel’s open lips. She slammed her hand to her crotch and dug her fingers into the skintight material of her spacesuit. The thin fabric, reinforced to prevent radiation leaks, had little of the elasticity of her other spacesuits. It, barely allowed her to get a single knuckle of her fingers inside her.

Something buzzed on her wrist. Squawking sounds that meant nothing to Vaquel babbled from a small device. Some of the noises stood out from others. The one that sounded like ‘miss-tress” was almost familiar.

Vaquel looked at a nearby object. It had a weird shape but more importantly, there was a large phallus of delicious size jutting from a curved platform. It wasn’t a living pulsing cock but it will do.

The thing on Vaquel’s wrist buzzed louder.

Vaquel climbed onto the object. Some part of her mind recognized that it was a chair. She oriented herself to sit so it could support her back. Taking hold of the plastic phallus, she leaned forward and guided it to the awful material covering her pussy.

The thin fabric resisted the phallus. The thick head stretched the sheer material but could not break through. Only a teasingly small amount of the head was able to slide inside Vaquel’s pussy.

Vaquel whimpered. She grinded her hips in the air as she tried to work the phallus into her body. Fingers clawed at her crotch as she tried to dig her way through the material preventing her glorious penetration.

The communicator continued to squawk.

More drool fell from Vaquel’s open lips. Both of her nipples were hard and aching. She felt a thirst that could only be quenched with pussy or the hot gush of a man’s seed.

But for now, Vaquel just wanted to come. Since the suit she wore refused to allow the phallus any further, she would make do with what she could. She grabbed hold of the phallus with both hands as her hips rotated in the air. Up and down she grinded her pussy around the small dome that was barely inside her.

It took only a few thrusts to come. Pleasure filled her body and she screamed. The glassteel helmet vibrated from the force of her shout.

Sanity returned a few seconds later. Vaquel froze in mid-hump and fell back into the chair. The sounds from her communicator made sense again.

“Mistress!” Chairbot yelled. “Your vitals are spiking and the integrity of your suit was almost compromised! Please respond!”

“I’m here,” Vaquel said. She stunned by how breathless she sounded. “The orange energy induced a state of intelligence-crippling arousal.”

She gingerly touched a hard nipple that poked against her spacesuit. The sensitivity made her wince. It might take days for the effect to wear off.

“You should return to the ship at once!” Chairbot said. “I am already directing the probe ship to your location.”

“Negative,” Vaquel said. “I have never seen an energy wave like that. I have never been so horny that it turned me stupid. Such a device would be greatly valued by the Queen. The Royal Navy would give me a planet of my own for such technology.”

Vaquel looked down the street. The beam of orange light was still shooting towards the sky. It didn’t look that far away.

“But Mistress, the radiation storm will be here in three deca-minutes! We can pick it up after the storm passes!”

“Fuck,” Vaquel said, rising from the chair. Her knees were shaking from the force of her orgasm. “The storm might damage whatever is causing the arousal wave. I need to recover it before that storm gets here.”

“Please, Mistress!” Chairbot whined. “Don’t do it! Your beautiful curvy ass is too precious to risk!”

Vaquel slapped the communicator off. Chairbot’s pleas weren’t going to make her go faster. She walked as fast she could down the street on uneasy legs.

After a minute of walking, Vaquel felt strong enough to jog. The faster movement caused her breasts to bounce, which greatly agitated her swollen nipples. The sharp double pain was a nice distraction from the river of juices flowing from her pussy.

Vaquel picked her way through skeletons, abandoned vehicles and fallen debris. A crater forced her to detour off the street and onto a sidewalk littered with more bodies. She made her way back to the street where there were still bodies but at least there was more open area to keep at a steady pace.

Ahead, the orange beam continued to shine into the sky.

“What is that thing?” Vaquel thought as she ran. “A weapon of some kind? It would certainly bring an army to its knees. Or maybe it is some sort of distress signal? Dead Fuckers-One appear to hold sex just as valuable as my fellow Euphorians. What if this orange beam is purely recreational? It could be some sort of orgy device malfunctioning and misfiring.”

A fallen building blocked the street. Painted on the building was a giant mural of a blue humanoid. Their curves were abundant and the ten-meter wide cleft indicated that it was female. Vaquel stared at the giant breast of the painted figure and wondered if was anatomically correct or artistic license.

Vaquel shook her head and took her eyes off the giant breast. There was no time to dawdle. It would take too long to go around the fallen building and climbing was out of the question. She needed to get past this obstacle and get past it now.

The solution was around her feet. Vaquel’s hand went to her belt. She ran as fast as she could toward the building and then jumped. Her finger pressed down on a tiny button and small anti-gravity fields encompassed both feet. The absence of gravity propelled Vaquel’s jumping body high in the air.

Vaquel started counting to herself. The anti-gravity fields had a limited battery and Vaquel would need some of the energy for the fall. If she got this wrong, she could end up with broken legs or worse.

The building and the mural zoomed past as Vaquel ascended. She had a moment to admire the meticulous detail painted around the giant aureole. Seconds later, Vaquel was above the building with just enough forward momentum to get her over the ruins.

Vaquel cut off the anti-gravity fields. Physics reasserted itself on Vaquel’s trajectory and her upward progress ceased to be. There was a brief second where she floated in the air.

Beyond the building, the orange beam blasted into the sky. It was closer than Vaquel originally thought. She should reach it soon

The beam flickered. Another wave of energy was being emitted.

“Fuck!” Vaquel yelled as gravity pulled her back down to the surface.

A thousand sharp slaps stung every inch of Vaquel’s body, followed by the cool sensation of someone blowing on her skin. Vaquel’s body shuddered in the air. She tried to do the mental math to determine if the anti-gravity batteries had enough charge to get back down safely.

The calculations melted away as mind-blasting desire took over. Despite being hundreds of meters in the air, Vaquel was only aware of the slick vacuum inside her pussy. Tears sprang to her eyes from how badly she needed a cock.

Vaquel fell. She scanned the ground, looking for a thick member for her to land on. Sadly, there was only bones and wrecked vehicles. She screamed her frustration as she hurtled to the surface.

Oblivious to her imminent demise, Vaquel pawed at her crotch. She dug into the spacesuit and tried to reach her aching pussy. Although the thin material let her rub her pussy lips, it prevented her from fully entering herself.

The ground rushed towards her. Vaquel gave up on entering her pussy and pressed the palm of her hand to her covered sex instead. She grinded her hand into her crotch with frantic need but the sensations merely teased her.

Vaquel snarled with angry lust. She grinded at her pussy with raging stubbornness. The frenzied motions caused her hand to slip up higher onto her belt. The edge of her palm briefly rubbed the button that activates the anti-gravity field.

It wasn’t enough. Vaquel fell, picking up speed every second.

The explorer twisted in the air as she tried in vain to fuck herself. Drool flew from her open mouth and splattered the inside of her glassteel helmet. As she writhed and moved, her sore sensitive nipples rubbed painfully against her suit.

The pain enflamed Vaquel. She used her free hand to grab a breast and savagely squeezed. All the while, her other hand kept desperately rubbing at her crotch.

Once more, Vaquel’s hand slipped on the smooth material of her spacesuit. The hand slid up and onto her belt. The edge of her palm rubbed the button for the anti-gravity field.

This time it was enough.

Twin fields encompassed Vaquel’s feet. Internal sensors detected that Vaquel was moving at a dangerous velocity with a nearby flat plane of mass. The fields flared to full power and Vaquel’s descent slowed to that of a feather falling.

Vaquel screamed as her feet shot above her. She flipped in midair, still rubbing at her crotch. Short pink hair flew around her face.

The boots lowered Vaquel to the ground. Upside down, she pulled on her tit while grinding her pussy. Blood rushed to her head but she didn’t care. She was so close.

Vaquel’s head hit the ground as lightly as a lover tapping her head during a blowjob. The anti-gravity battery exhausted itself and shut off. Vaquel’s body fell, thankfully onto her back.

The jolt hitting the ground pushed Vaquel over the edge. She screamed her orgasm as bliss radiated through her body. The scream was followed by gaging as she choked on her own drool.

The lust faded away and Vaquel returned to her senses. The memory of her near-death chilled her blood. The dampness of her pussy remained however.

“Queen’s tit,” Vaquel whispered. “Let’s not do that again.”

Vaquel sat up and rose to her feet. The orange beam was just across the street. It was inside a building where only the first floor and a few walls remained.

There was a sign across the remains of a wall. Vaquel instinctively tried to read it and the headache returned. The sign said, ‘Ocean Obelisk’.

Vaquel snorted. That seemed unlikely. They were kilometers away from any ocean, unless you counted the one between Vaquel’s thighs.

“Damn, maybe they do,” Vaquel said.

She crossed the street and entered the building through a hole in the wall. The open ceiling and the bright orange light illuminated the area. Vaquel had to shield her eyes from the bright glow as she navigated debris filled hallways and clumps of skeletons.

It didn’t escape Vaquel’s notice that each skeletal remains were in groups of two or three. The positioning also suggested that they were deeply engaged in sexual activities when their doom came. Was this because of the orange beam or just their natural reaction to impending doom?

“Looks like no one died alone,” Vaquel said out.

Thunder rolled. Vaquel didn’t need Chairbot to tell her that the radiation storm was close. She hurried through the halls.

A breach in a wall brought her to the source of the orange beam. It was a giant machine, easily ten meters wide and three meters tall. The overall shape was that of a short pyramid, but one made of pulsing pipes, wriggling cables and vibrating cylinders. The beam fired from the top although no emitters of any kind were visible.

“Queen’s tit!” Vaquel swore. The device was too big to take back to the probe ship. She activated her wrist scanner and pointed it at the device. Readings appeared on the heads-up-display inside her glassteel helmet. Error messages scrolled in front of her. Whatever the device was, Vaquel’s scanner couldn’t begin to decipher it.

“Fuck!” Vaquel yelled. The wind blew through the wreckage of the building. Dark clouds gathered above. The storm was almost here.

A dozen ideas sprang to mind and died in droves. Vaquel couldn’t move the device. She couldn’t scan it. There was no way to protect a machine of this size from the coming storm. There just wasn’t a way to save the machine.

“It is not fair,” Vaquel said. Dead Fuckers-One had a wonderous invention and it was about to be obliterated. It was would be riddled with radiation and collapse just like this unknown civilization. In the end, there would only be dust and ruin.

Vaquel felt something strange inside her. It was sour and empty, almost as empty as her vagina. She wasn’t used to this feeling. It was grief. She was realizing the terrible loss of such a sensual society and their achievements.

“No, I can find something,” Vaquel said. “Something to carry on. Something to survive when nothing else on this planet does.”

There was a glint of light nearby. Vaquel walked over to a broken glass case. Inside was a large dildo, blue in color.

Vaquel picked it up. The dildo was much heavier than it looked. “I guess you will have to do,” she said.

The orange pulsed. Vaquel’s grief was washed away by a cold dose of terror. Fuck, she was way too close to a machine she couldn’t stop.

The energy wave crashed into Vaquel. A million slaps smacked into every millimeter of her skin. Vaquel screamed and then screamed again as ice encompassed her body.

She dropped to the ground. The dildo rolled from her fingers and was forgotten. There was nothing inside her. She was hollow. Her pussy was an empty glove without a hand to fill it. Pure desire paralyzed her and prevented from even making the futile effort to touch herself.

Vaquel was insensible. Although she was staring at the sky, her eyes couldn’t focus because of how badly she wanted to be fucked. The probe ship appeared above her but she had no idea it was there. When the tractor beam picked her off the ground and brought her up to the ship, Vaquel was only aware of the hungry abyss deep inside her cunt.

There was a babbling noise. Vaquel felt herself rest on the floor but she still wasn’t aware that she was inside her ship. The floor hummed as the engines powered the ship away from the radiation store but to Vaquel, the slight vibrations only teased her sensitive body.

Something beeped around Vaquel’s waist. The green spacesuit retracted away from her body and was pulled into her belt. The glassteel helmet hissed and came loose. As she writhed on the floor with desire, the helmet rolled away and the back of her head touched the metal floor.

Vaquel gasped. She became aware of her newly naked body. Air from the ventilators passed over her sensitive nipples. The cold metal floor held her round ass. Something bumped against her bare leg. It was a shape on wheels. Noises came from the shape but Vaquel’s couldn’t understand them.

The sounds were unimportant. Vaquel was naked and finally, nothing could stop her hand. She reached down and cupped her pussy. Tears sprang to her eyes as she felt the damp bush of her pubic hair. Three fingers slipped into clenching wet slickness.

“Fuuu!” Vaquel cried. She rose up to a sitting position. Her legs spread wide on the floor and the shape wheeled out of the way. Clenching buttocks tightened and stabilized her position.

Vaquel fucked herself. The sound of her wet hole being pummeled drowned out the noise coming from the shape. Every thrust of her fingers slammed deeper and deeper into her pussy. Three fingers were not enough. A fourth slipped in, stretching her to her limit and still she craved more.

Spit fell from Vaquel’s gasping mouth and landed on a breast. The warm liquid sent a jolt through Vaquel’s sensitive body. She looked down on her breasts, seeing their naked glory as if for the first time. Taking one in hand, she brought the nipple to her mouth and bit down with all of the need her body had.

Pain shot through Vaquel’s savaged nipple and went straight to her pussy. Vaquel bit down hard as she rammed four fingers inside her. The thumb curled but the slick pussy was just too tight to slip in.

The shape rolled behind Vaquel. She didn’t see the back recline and the seat portion tilt forward so that the flat of the chair was now pressing into Vaquel’s back. When she felt it, Vaquel leaned back into it for support as she kept biting and fingering.

The surface of the flat surface roared to life with vibrations. Vaquel whimpered as the vibrations ran up and down her spine. She bit down hard enough to draw blood from her breast.

Vaquel climaxed. The breast fell from her lips as she screamed her pleasure. The tight walls of her pussy spasmed and clenched around her soaked fingers. Bliss filled her body as the orgasm stretched and stretched beyond anything she had ever experienced.

But all orgasms must eventually end. As the intense bliss faded and the afterglow settled, Vaquel regained the use of her higher brain functions. She also realized her robot servant was vibrating her back.

“Chairbot, what are you doing?” she asked.

“Mistress! You have rebooted!” Chairbot said. The vibrations on his seat decreased in intensity but he remained where he was to support her back.

“I’m on the ship,” Vaquel said. “How did I get here?”

“I came for you, Mistress!” Chairbot said. “I picked you up with the tractor beam right before the radiation compromised the integrity of your perfect ass! You were in a state of critical arousal but seemed incapable of stripping yourself. I overrode your belt controls and removed your suit but you still refused to sit on me as you stimulated yourself. Would you like to sit on me now?”

“No,” Vaquel said, enjoying the sigh of disappointment from the robot. She tried to think back to what she was doing before the orange energy hit her. “Hey, did I have a dildo with me when you picked me up?”

“The tractor beam malfunctioned and the collected a wider area than I specified. It collected some debris along with your precious butt,” Chairbot said. “I pushed it into a corner but I can remove it if you wish.”

“Let me look first,” Vaquel said. She tried to stand but her legs refused to cooperate. “Maybe I will sit on you after all. Help me up.”

Chairbot lowered his seat to the floor so Vaquel only needed to slide back. Once she was on the seat, Chairbot lifted her from the ground and into a sitting position. Vaquel enjoyed her afterglow as the robot wheeled her towards the tractor beam detritus.

On the floor was broken glass, a broken cup, three metal gears and the blue dildo.

Vaquel smiled. “Keep the dildo and jettison the rest,” Vaquel said. “Good job on getting that dildo on board.

Pleasure programs cycled inside Chairbot as Vaquel complimented him. He relished the rare praise before going about his assigned tasks. By the time he was done, Vaquel had fallen asleep on his seat.

Chairbot sighed with pleasure. Vaquel’s sweaty ass would be asleep on him for at least eight hours. He dimmed the lights on the ship and set course for the next star system.

Jul 182022
 
So much filth behind this romantic cover.

I’m a big fan of Shay Sands. She writes the kind of insatiable sluts I love to read about. I am especially a big fan of her more outlandish stories, as they tend to stretch reality just enough to make it feel like some sort of alternate sluttier universe.

The Final Edge is a novel where Shay’s heroine is called upon to stop a supernatural race of monsters. The monsters give people their darkest fantasies and if the victims give in and climax, the monster consumes their ability to feel desire. Shay is taught how to deny herself so that her own powers can consume the monster instead. I am simplifying things but I am also holding off on any spoilers. There is also a romance that drives the story that I don’t want to give away.

What this creates is a character who keeps experiencing fantasies and holding out from going over the edge and coming. It is a delicious cycle of self-denial and edging. The plot also serves as a frame for a series of erotic vignettes for the heroine to endure/enjoy. The adventures range from straight sex and lesbians with segues into BDSM and surprise power dynamics.

It is a clever stunt. The book is almost an anthology of sexy adventures that don’t need the pressure of being connected to one another. Each fantasy would be a nice story in itself, but the main plot of edging adds friction to every story. It is very impressive.

I highly recommend this book for fans of kinky peril and denial-enthusiasts.

Jul 112022
 
Destruction is such a sexy word.

Chantelle is a highly successful writer and public personality. She writes books on feminism and gives lectures. One day she realizes how empty her carefully managed life is and craves the thrill of being dominated and used. She begins to engage in some risky behavior which greatly concerns her two bodyguards. The bodyguards, a man and a woman, offer to dominate and use her in order to satisfy her urges until this phase passes.

Spoiler alert, this phase does not pass.

I enjoy The Destruction of Chantelle Sinclair a lot. It is a coming-of-slut slave story where the submissive is the wealthy one and everything is consensual. Having there be two bodyguard/doms makes for some interesting dynamics. The book gets a bit deeper than I expected with Chantelle understanding that that the public character she created in herself is now a prison she wishes to escape. I don’t want to spoil anything but giving any more details, but the book goes to some unexpected places.

Also, the sex was really hot. There is a lot power dynamics going on and I enjoyed every bit of the ride. I will be looking into more of Shawna Hunter’s work.

 Have You Read?  Comments Off on Have You Read the Destruction of Chantelle Sinclair?
Jul 082022
 

I have successfully moved into my new house. Technically this happened back on the 25th of last month but there was still a lot of shit to do. My old apartment had a two page list of what they expected to be cleaned and I spent the rest of June making sure that happened. Then the first week of July was spent doing fun things like putting together my IKEA desk of the past 13 years, realizing the leg is in the wrong place, dissembling the whole damn thing and then putting it back together. Fun times.

Oh, and did you know that after packing all your shit into boxes, you then have to take all that shit back out after you move? That is fucked up. There has to be a better way.

On the positive side, this I did my first smut writing in about a month. My next CYOA book is in it’s second draft and Vincent Price willing, I might actually get it published next month. This weekend I return to my Vaquel stories and get that series rolling again. My goal is to produce ten Vaquel stories this year and to get back to one-story-a-month schedule for 2023.

Thank you for your patience during these busy times. If you ever had your eye on a book of mine, I gently ask you to consider buying it now. My sales have taken a hit without me being on Twitter promoting my stuff. I’m sure they will return to normal soon but in the meantime, I’ve got to buy some shelves to put my boxes and boxes of books on.

Regular blog posting will resume with posts on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

 Update  Comments Off on Update from Cozy Cove
Jun 052022
 

We close on the new house on June 15th. The actual move is on the 25th. After the move, we have until the 30th to clean the apartment and get our deposit back. In other words, June is a busy month.

Somehow I managed to get some writing done this week. I decided that my 131,000 word story wasn’t long enough and added a sex scene. That is in addition to the bad ending I wrote where you and a friend become sex maniacs. I can thank Amanda Clover’s books for teaching me that even bad endings should be their own sex scenes and reward in itself.

My current obsession is cookbooks. I have been browsing the food section of Amazon and compulsively adding cookbooks left and right to my wish list. More entertaining are the reviews for cookbooks where people take the time and energy to write a nasty review because the recipes didn’t take into account this one weird problem that the review author has. I don’t know why, but those petty narcissistic reviews make me cackle.

For the past seven years I have been in a small apartment kitchen. There is enough counter space for one cutting board and not a big one. The house will have a kitchen island in addition to the counters. I can’t wait to get in there and make something that might require TWO cutting boards.

Just twenty more days.

 Update  Comments Off on Start the Countdown!
May 272022
 

Last month, my wife and I put in an offer for a house and it was accepted. The new place is 15 minutes away but there is still a shit load of packing to do. Not to mention that buying a house is a lot more complicated than the Sims made it out to be. This is the second house that I have bought and wow, the paperwork is insane. Not to mention that we needed to buy furniture and appliances as well as hire painters and other craftsmen.

In other words, I have been busy as fuck. Somehow, I am still plugging away at my next Choose-your-own-erotica book and there is a small chance it will be ready at the end of June. Don’t hold me to that because if I have learned one thing, there is always another damn thing to do when it comes to house buying and moving.

In the meantime, I will post updates on Fridays to let you know how close I am to resuming my normal porn producing schedule. Thank you for your patience.

 Update  Comments Off on Seriously Shon, WTF?
Apr 272022
 

“We received 36 offers for your house,” the realtor said. “The highest offer is for forty thousand over your asking price. The second highest is twenty thousand over, but they are willing to pay cash which means we can close in a day if you want.”

“Holy shit,” I said. “I knew it was a seller’s market but this is crazy.”

“I also want to draw your attention to three more offers that are a bit more unconventional,” the realtor said. She passed me a portrait photo of an attractive blonde woman. It looked like a boudoir shot. The woman was wearing a red negligee with matching red lipstick. There was a knowing look in her eye that promised dirty things.

“This offer is ten thousand over your asking price, but it includes a one time offer of oral sex performed by the wife of the purchasing couple. Their offer includes the invitation to ejaculate in her mouth, on her face or on her breasts.”

I stared at my realtor. I didn’t think she had this dirty of a sense of humor. Her deadpan delivery was perfect.

“Is this for real?” I asked.

My realtor nodded. “Like I said, it is a very competitive market.”

“What the fuck are the other offers?”

The realtor passed me a set of small Polaroid pictures. They featured a black woman completely nude on a bed. She had lovely small breasts and a rather large bush of black hair. The things she was doing to a dildo was anatomically impressive.

“This offer comes from a couple who will be moving in with their adult daughter,” the realtor said. “The offer is for the asking price, but they are including the free use of their daughter for one day a month for twelve months, along with a lifetime subscription to the woman’s OnlyFans. Apparently, the daughter is in the top point six percent of content providers.”

I licked my lips. One photo showed incredible flexibility with her legs. “What does free use mean?”

“It simply means you can engage in sexual activity at your discretion. Though I do want to emphasize that it only applies for one day a month.”

“And there is a third offer?”

The realtor turned her laptop around to face me. There was a video of a curvy redhead wearing nothing but a leather collar around her neck. She was bent over a bench, sucking a masked man’s cock while a masked woman spanked her from behind.

“This offer is for ten thousand less than the asking price, but it includes the gift of a submissive woman who will be willing to live with you. The buying couple trains submissives for a living and this one owes them a personal favor of some sort. You will have full responsibility and use of their submissive for a three-year period with the exception of a two-week period during the Christmas holidays.”

I watched the video and took note of the attractive way the redhead wriggled within her restraints.

“Oh wow,” I whispered. “I see what you mean by a seller’s market.”

“Do you need time to consider which offer you want to accept?”

I looked at the photos in front of me. My mind went back to the highest offer that seemed so boring and dull in retrospect. The portrait with the blonde stared up at me, inviting me to ruin her makeup. The pictures of the black woman tempted me with sexual gymnastics. On the video, the redhead submitted to more debauchery. All the while, I weighed the temptations with the offset in purchasing price. There were my own expenses to consider.

“No need,” I replied. “I know which offer I am taking.”

 Fiction Bite  Comments Off on Fiction Bite: Seller’s Market
Apr 252022
 

A Long Way to a Small Angry Planet is a science fiction book by Becky Chambers. It involves the crew of the Wayfarer, a modest spaceship that punches holes through reality to create stable wormholes. The crew is a mix of humans and aliens, working together to take on contracts and make a living. They are not military or freebooters; they are the future space equivalent of a road crew. Or to put it another way, just one character from your Star Wars/Star Trek/RPG group could murder every member of the Wayfarer with no problem.

Which is great! This is not a book about fights or action scenes. This is a book that a contract the crew takes on and spend the better part of a year trying to complete. Over the course of the job, we get deep dives into each and every character and the personal challenges they face. This book is 95% slice-of-life and I am here for it. In the last thirty pages, something major happens but that’s fine. Life can drop disasters on you.

With so much of the story focused on the characters, the real success of this novel is how deep and interesting the characters are. This is a book for the modern age which means we get non-hetero relationships, aliens who practice polyamory, other aliens who go through gender phases and there are many discussions of body autonomy. This is a science fiction book crammed with liberal ideas and once more, I am here for it.

It is no wonder this book won a Hugo. I fell in love with the characters and reading their lives enriched me in ways I struggle to explain. Love and found-family is the core of this book and with so many science-fiction franchises focused on combat and acts of war, it is a welcome change.

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