Look what I found on Twitter! This strange case, fought through the French Courts, won the complainant £160,000 compensation for his unwanted drug side effects. It appears the drug he was prescribed for his Parkinson’s disease caused him to become a sex and gambling addict. There’s a full article from The MailOnline where you can read all about it here.
VelvetTripp
Sally frowned. ‘I’m stuck. Well and truly blocked. I just can’t do it,’ she said.
Greg grinned at her. ‘Well, maybe we can do something about that. If inspiration and incentive are what you need I’m sure I could provide them.’
‘How?’ Sally retorted. ‘I just can’t write if I can’t get my imagination going.’
‘A blindfold and flogger might help.’
‘How the hell am I going to write if you have me tied up and blindfold?’ Sally said indignantly.
‘Er, we have the technology,’ Greg replied, pulling out a small microphone and plugging it into the laptop. ‘You can dictate as we go.’
Sally grinned. This seemed like a bit of fun that might just get her creative writing juices flowing.
Slinking out of her already scanty summer shorts and T-shirt, Sally already felt the warmth of anticipation between her legs. This had to beat hammering keys and racking brains for the next sentence. Her eyes suddenly shone. Greg pulled out his bag of rope.
Sliding it around her, he did a ‘quick and nasty’ tie to secure her arms above her head to the anchor in the open plan staircase, and her legs to a spreader bar. Once he’d slipped a blindfold over her eyes, he fixed the microphone to the rope close to her face to pick up her speech.
‘Now you’re going to write. Or else,’ he said.
Sally’s eyes closed. Her skin tingled. The flogger made contact with her arse. Gently at first. Warming, awakening. ‘Write!’ Greg said suddenly. ‘Now.’
‘It was dark.’ Sally said.
Thwack! ‘More,’ said Greg.
‘She was alone in the dungeon. Alone and very nervous.’
‘Good. That’s a start.’
Thwack! ‘She heard a sound behind her. The sound of chains dragging and clanking as her Dom entered the space with the objects of her bondage and maybe torture.’
Silence. Thwack! ‘Keep going. You’ve a whole book to write. Your arse will be pretty sore at this rate.’
Sally wriggled. Her arse was rosy, warm and ready for the next blow.
Greg appraised his prisoner. Her soft skin glowed where the flogger had made contact. He ran his fingers over her left buttock, creating a quiver of desire through Sally’s thigh. Sliding a finger between her legs, he felt the slickness that told him she was ready for more.
Reaching into his bag of tricks, he fished out a pinwheel. The sharp little teeth sparkled in the light. Greg carefully ran the pinwheel up the inside of Sally’s thigh. She gasped. ‘Write!’ Greg commanded.
Breathless, Sally continued. ‘She felt her captor buckle ankle cuffs tightly. Chains rattled. Her legs dragged apart.’
The other thigh now, pressing a little harder into her skin. Raising his hand – slap! He hit her arse, causing it to glow even deeper.
Sally jumped. ‘Ow!’
‘Get on with it.’
‘He began gently enough. The crop flicked over her skin like a feather, and she shuddered with each touch.’
Thwack! Sally’s legs trembled, much to Greg’s delight. Moving around to face her, he ran the pinwheel slowly over her breast, up and around her areola. Her nipple stood proud, and he took it into his mouth, nibbling and sucking. Sally groaned.
He repeated his teasing on her other breast. Her eyes rolled beneath the mask. Her head began to spin.
‘Write.’
‘Er, Er,’ Thwack! ‘He began the real torture now. She’s been waiting for this. Her skin was already on fire, already anticipating the pain she loved. The crop provided the first wave of intense pain/pleasure as he striped her buttocks with its length.’
Greg approved. He loved Sally’s writing. It wasn’t often she hit a writing block, but he was mighty pleased with himself for thinking up this way to unblock her. Double positive!
Now the pinwheel was employed inside her thighs again. A trickle of moisture now dribbled down her leg. Greg slipped out of his trousers, pulled his T-shirt over his head and pushed himself up against her back, his dick proudly pressing into her arse cheek.
Sally groaned again. Pushed back onto his hard promise. He moved away, grinning. ‘Now it’s your turn,’ he said, pulling out a riding crop. He didn’t start so gently as Sally’s character. After all, she was already warmed up.
The stripe he produced on her left cheek looked great. And Sally’s squeal as he made it was so satisfying he did it again, to match, on the other cheek.
Sally wriggled now, writing forgotten. But only by her.
‘Write,’ he said again.
‘I can’t. I really can’t but I will be able to do it now. Honestly!’ she moaned.
Crack! He landed another stripe on her arse. ‘Write.’
‘She gasped as he roughly pinched her nipples, twisting them until she yelped.’
‘Good girl. Good idea!’
‘Please Greg, fuck me now! I’m not blocked any more. Please!’
‘Very soon. Just as soon as…’ He placed the first nipple clamp on her, then slid a finger inside her. She was so wet!
She gasped and groaned, waiting for the second pinch of pain. It soon came. Crack! The crop making a third stripe neatly over both cheeks. Sally jumped, and the chain on the clamps swayed, pulling on her nipples.
Her clit got the message, and she strained in her bonds, eager now for penetration by her lover.
Greg watched as the small trickle of moisture grew and crept down her thigh. Unhooking her from the staircase, he carried her over to the rug, her legs still spread wide. Laying her on her back, he carefully nuzzled her clamped nipples, licking over their tips, squeezing her breasts.
Slowly, he pushed himself inside her, feeling her arch her back to meet him.
‘Dirty girl. Filthy mind,’ he murmered.
‘Mmm,’ was all Sally could say.
He plunged deeper now, kissing her neck, running his hands over her body. She rose to meet each thrust, the chain tugging on her nipples in rhythm, intensifying her high.
She began to fly now. He thrust deeper, harder, grabbing her arse and pulling her onto him, grinding their bodies together. She cried out as she came. He kept the rhythm until her cries died down, until she sounded spent. Then, without warning, he removed the clamps.
‘Yeoooow!’ She cried. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking gently, then the other, as he began to pump again. Sally’s clit couldn’t resist, couldn’t ignore. Gasping wildly, she shook violently as her clit pumped her into ecstasy.
‘Coffee?’ Greg offered just as Sally began to open her eyes.
She sat up, now freed from her bonds, and smiled. ‘Yep, she said. I’ll need that to get onto chapter two.’
Velvet Tripp
If you like our writing, there’s a whole other page of all our work, and there are other free stories here. Feel free to look around.
‘Edgy, modern, industrial-flavored stories full of unlikely situations, grit, grease, and urban decay. Some are very strange, some are very sexy, and all are quite memorable… absolutely recommended if you are looking for something gritty, modern, playful, and strange.’ That’s the description of the Museum of Deviant Desires (also in the UK Amazon store) from BDSM Book Reviews. I put it out earlier this year with a new up-and-coming publisher, 1001 Nights Press.
BDSM Book Reviews gave it 5/5 overall and 4/5 for kink. Oddly, despite this and the other excellent reviews the story collection has garnered, it’s one of my lowest-selling titles. Am I not doing enough to publicise it? Or do people not like gritty, playful and strange? Have a look for yourself, see what you think. Amazon’s ‘Look Inside’ function should give you enough to make your mind up.
It’s true, you can get Ridden for free, for a limited time. Xcite have it on free promo on Amazon for four days. Erotic novella, bondage and BDSM, voodoo and paranormal, more details in previous blog posts.
Get it from Amazon.com or Amazon.co.uk. And please leave a review on Amazon when you’ve read it!
Bearing in mind it’s Part 1 of a trilogy (though each volume is self-standing and complete in itself) and Part 2 is mostly written while Part 3 is already plotted, I’m still open to suggestions about particular scenes you might like to see in the later volumes…
Okay, I’ve been slow to promote this novella, especially since my novel came out a week or so ago (see the posts about Corporate Slave, below). It’s been out since Monday but I’ve been writing other stuff, nonfiction, about topics such as cultural imperialism.
And that’s relevant, actually. Because the novella is based in a culture that isn’t mine. But then again, for various random reasons, it’s a part of a diaspora of beliefs I happen to know at least a little about, and that you can now find embedded in almost any world city.
Currently Ridden is available as an ebook only on Amazon in the US and Amazon in the UK, and it will be a while before it’s available elsewhere. But I’ll have another announcement to make about it next week…
The core of the plot is based on voodoo, if you like the ordinary Westernised spelling; or vodou, which is how its practitioners and followers usually refer to it (there are other spellings as well but they mostly relate to its practice in West Africa, and other names used within the range of vodou beliefs). The title of the story comes from the common description of someone who is possessed by a lwa, or spirit, as being ‘ridden’. And of course, in more everyday English, someone who is completely obsessed with some idea or emotion is sometimes said to be ridden by it.
I’d like to think, though I may be deluding myself, that alongside the erotic content readers may pick up something more ‘educational’ about the nature of vodou in reading the novella. I haven’t tried to be absolutely faithful to its practices and beliefs, but I have tried to convey something about its worldview.
So: rather than try to offer a short description (which is on Amazon anyway) or an extract (which is on our Tumblr, and you can use the Amazon ‘look inside’ function to read the beginning as well) I’ve come up with something that I hope is a more evocative summary:
The hospital doctors said Eloise had concussion. It wasn’t concussion.
Tom nodded slowly. “I know what you’re thinking,” Eloise whispered. She felt a myriad of sensations. Later, she felt herself accelerating, plunging towards sweaty carnal seizure.
Confused and dream-filled sleep.
Huge, rusted cemetery gates. Nakedness, erection, the smell of sex.
There had been a travail, a working.
Tom. Romero. Philippe. The sudden flare of the candle. Romero’s old bullet wound. Instinct. Possibilities multiplied. Complicated palette of emotions. Ropes, hanging from the rafters. Fuck.
Healing people, through sex. Sex as a moral and sacred act.
This is Part 1 of a 3-part trilogy. It’s a complete story in itself but there will, in a couple of months or so, be more to read about Eloise and her developing relationship with vodou.
I hope you like it. If you like paranormal, I hope you find it to your taste. If you don’t normally like paranormal, I hope you find the slightly out-of-the-ordinary paranormality of the novella intriguing. If you don’t normally read bdsm erotica, I hope it helps you understand why people might become motivated to try bdsm, and leaves you hot and sweaty. If you do normally read bdsm erotica I hope it leaves you hot and sweaty anyway. If you don’t know much about vodou I hope it gives you at least a sense of how and why others are attracted to it – though if you are, in fact, a vodouist you’ll probably think it’s overly simplistic, not to say overly imaginative. But whoever you are, I hope it makes you rampantly excited.
-F
It’s now available on Amazon for Kindle, in the US and in the UK.
And if you want an idea of what it’s about and an extract, in addition to previous posts here you can look at a different extract on my Fulanismut blog (opens in new window).
Corporate Slave Cover
Fulani’s latest novel Corporate Slave is now out, published by Pink Flamingo. You can find it on PF’s Erotic Book Network site as a paperpack or an ebook. Over the next few days it will appear in other places as well, we’ll update availability info as it comes in.
This is a full-length novel of 80,000 words, involving copper-bottomed, boiler-plated BDSM on almost every page.
It’s set in a dystopian near-future, amid the collapse of the state and the rule of large, multinational corporations with their own justice departments and prisons – a world in which prisoners are goods to be traded with their value depending on the services they can provide. Including sexual services. It’s also a world in which some experimental technology being developed today is starting to become more widely available – such as computers woven into the cloth of garments. Part of the plot revolves around such a garment, the Intelligent Dress.
This is the world Cassie lives and works in, as a sales assistant in a convenience store. Until she gets caught up with a resistance movement, and then taken prisoner.
But rather than try to describe the novel, here’s a taste of how it begins:
Cassie rolled her eyes upwards in a vain attempt to see the expression on Ben’s face. His cock wedged firmly in her throat meant she couldn’t tilt her head. Her lips were spread wide, tongue hanging out, the tip of it just caressing his scrotum.
She’d taken the whole length, but it left her no room to maneuver. Her field of vision was entirely filled with a light fuzz of ginger public hair, a few inches of skin, and the bottom edge of his T-shirt—a lurid baby-blue color that didn’t suit his skin tone. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t giving the blowjob because she liked his dress sense, but because he was going to give her a Dress.
She hoped Ben would come soon, not because she wasn’t enjoying the blowjob, but because she was due at work soon. He was engorged and she could taste the pre-cum ejaculate already, but he seemed to be holding off on her. She gave a throaty growl and took his entire length, thankful she had full control over her gag reflex. His hand reached out and grabbed her hair, stopping her from pulling back. That wasn’t exactly a surprise. It was a man thing, wasn’t it—wanting to feel in control?
That was okay. She preferred it when she wasn’t in control. Sexually, at least. It gave her a sense of release.
Cassie made a gug ggg sound deep in her throat, which she meant as a question: what the fuck do you want me to do?
“Let’s make it real,” Bob grated. Then, raising his voice: “Hey, Luke, handcuff her for me, will ya? Hands behind her back!”
Luke, sitting on the other side of the room, looked up from the screen and removed his earpieces. Cassie caught a glimpse of a nude woman hanging by her wrists, legs splayed, flanked by two men in military uniforms. She was struggling, her body bearing the marks of abuse with a whip. She might have been screaming. Hard to tell whether the tinny sound coming from the earpieces now in Luke’s hand was screaming or music.
Luke hit a button on the remote, freezing the screen image, and picked over the litter of beer cans beside him until he found the cuffs.
She didn’t struggle. Not seriously, anyway. A token wriggle or two so he had to work at getting the cuffs on.
When her wrists were secured, Ben dragged her bodily forward, still on her knees, so he could sit in an armchair with her mouth still wrapped around his cock. It was hard to balance because Cassie’s own body weight pushed her down onto the cock, and she was able to come up only when Ben pulled back on on her hair. He grunted in satisfaction and pumped her head up and down. She tried to relax, knowing that at this rate he’d at least come quickly. He was, after all, fucking the fantasy in his head as much as he was fucking her mouth. She concentrated on getting her throat to relax and keeping it as lubricated as possible.
Ben was suddenly gasping for breath, much like Cassie herself, and released his flood. And it was a flood, filling her throat and sinuses but with more plastered on her face. He clutched at her straw-blonde hair tight enough to make her yelp, then relaxed enough that she could extract his cock from her mouth and try to suck in air. He pushed roughly on one shoulder and she fell back heavily on the carpet, lying on her side. Every time she coughed it seemed to bring up his fluid from her lungs. She sneezed, and gobs of it spattered the front of her T-shirt.
Oh well. It wasn’t like she’d be wearing it at work.
And it gets more intense from there on in. Those links again – the paperback and the ebook are both available right now from Pink Flamingo’s Erotic Book Network, $12.75 for print and $7 for the ebook.
Every so often we check the stats for the blog, which among other things tell us where people are clicking out to. And occasionally, we find they’ve clicked on a link way back in the blog somewhere that’s been updated at some point over the past couple of years.
A case in point is Fulani’s novella Sex, Art and Aromatherapy. We can’t even find the broken link that someone clicked on (update – we have now, and fixed it) but for the avoidance of doubt, here’s the link for it at Xcite Books. It is of course also available in a bunch of other places including Amazon.com (picture also links there), Amazon.co.uk, and Kobobooks.
It’s a standalone short story, i.e. around 6000 words: Ruby is already experienced in BDSM and fetish, and she’s surprised to meet an older man in an art gallery, of all places, who also seems experienced in that world. He tells her stories about how, in his youth, BDSM was simply one part of a wider and more spiritual quest. Ruby sets off on a journey to discover some enlightenment of her own…
Meanwhile, in the process of checking the old links we discovered something we didn’t even know about. It’s also available now from Waterstones as an ebook – and you can also find it as as Android app and an iPhone app, and on iTunes (though quite why the top iTunes search result on Google shows it in the Kazakhstan iTunes store is something of a mystery).
[Edited to add: here’s a link to buy Sex, Art and Aromatherapy on Android, and here’s a link for the iPhone version. Plus, depending on where you’re buying from and what format you’re buying in, you might find it has the cover shown below, which was created for the iTunes version when they were being snippy about ‘sexual’ cover images. Actually it’s quite suggestive…]
deliciouslydeviant 