Author: ErosAndSmut

[m,F] [Fiction] [Self-harm] [Rape] [Trigger Warning]

Sulky Caden had been labeled by society as a bipolar sociopath with limited social skills. In his mind, he didn’t give a fuck about opionions… but on a subconsious level, everyone does. Stemming from a sense of rebellion, the teen painted his nails black and occasionally lined his eyelids with black liner. He was emulating the personality he had developed, and his internal struggles seemed to show on the outside. His “look” communicated the darkness that culminated inside of him.

Caden rolled his lined eyes as his mother dropped him off at the psychiatrist’s office. She gave a half smile as she waved goodbye to her son. Her smile didn’t meet her eyes. She like a nervous wreck.

“Honey, I’ll be back in an hour! Take your time. And remember to tell the doctor about what’s going on, we are all worried. Very worried, sweetheart.” Read more »

[Anal] [Rape] [M,f] [Violence] [OC]

Adrianna looked at herself in the mirror as she dusted her cheeks with glittery powder. She puckered her lips as she admired her face, giving herself props for her beauty. She had large blue eyes lined with dark eyelashes; which she closed as she began to mist her body with sweet perfume. She ran her fingers through her shiny black hair, allowing the strays to fall on the floor. She turned around, stretching her neck to get a glimpse of her backside to make sure her skirt was straight. Once she deemed herself perfect, she hurried out of the bathroom.

She bounded down the hall and popped her head into the adjacent bedroom. It was late afternoon and her roommate was resting when Adrianna woke her, “Melissa! Hey can you be a doll and give me a ride down the road? I’m meeting a friend, he’s gonna let me borrow some rent money. Pretty please?” She asked in her best angelic voice. 

Melissa groaned, “Can’t it wait?”
Adrianna pleaded, “Melissa, come on, *RENT* It’s for *BOTH* of us, really.” Read more »

The Patient in a Coma [Fiction] [m,F] [rape]

Nathan whistled as he bounded down the long white hallway of the hospital. His long arms swung wildly with each step forward. He didn’t have a reason to be in such a hurry, seeing as his position was in IT, not medicine. 

He’d always enjoyed the third shift the most. For him, working nights meant there were fewer people around to make small talk with. He’d always felt like an outsider, preferring to keep to himself. He’d been bullied in school and was shy around everyone, especially women. He’d never had a girlfriend before, let alone, sex. The only sex he saw was what he searched on the internet, and he liked dabbling in the dark web for his content. He got off on vile and illegal videos of women being raped and ravaged, even murdered (sometimes the bodies would be violated further, post-death).

This particular evening at work, he was assigned to assess a monitor in a patient’s room. He usually felt awkward when working on computers around patients, even if they were asleep. As he approached the patient’s door, his arms stopped swinging and he stopped whistling. He lightly tapped on the door before peering in. Read more »

An Artist’s Desirable Subject: [MF] [Oral] [Fiction]

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Allyson hurried through a beautiful old campus, propelling herself forward with determination. She had a hard deadline to meet if she was going to submit her portfolio of drawings and declare Art as her major. The Art department rented out a drawing studio for students upon request, and she was eager to make her hour worth it. Her footsteps lightly pitter-pattered on the bumpy sidewalk as she picked up pace towards the studio. Slate gray clouds above head threatened to pour at any moment.

She tightly grasped her sketchbooks in an attempt to protect the inner pages from potential rain. As she hurried, she turned a sharp corner too quickly and awkwardly bent her ankle. *“Shit!”* she cursed to herself as she tripped. Her coveted sketchbooks went flying from her grip, and scattered along the path. Thick white pages flipped wildly in the wind as Allyson bent down on her hands and knees, saving the pages that were beginning to tear.

An approaching group of guys scooted to the side to avoid her. All but one continued walking. One of the men stopped abruptly, feeling compelled to help her. He waved his friends onward as he stopped, looming above her. She hadn’t noticed him and became startled when he reached down, picked up her belongings, and gracefully lifted her by the hand. Read more »

The Curvy Neighbor [voyeurism]

Smoke billowed through the living room as it dispersed and spiraled into the air. Tanner held the tight blunt to his lips, tasting the sweet mango flavoring of the wrap. He inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before exhaling a load of stress. He closed his eyes, completely soothed. In a split second his peace and silence was over. He jolted as a shrill voice came from the bedroom.

“TANNER, I’ve told you a million times, smoke *OUTSIDE*!” His irritated wife yelled. 

Tanner cringed as he wondered if the smoke *really* bothered her or if she just wanted to have control. “*Fucking Christ, I can’t relax in my own apartment?”* he muttered quietly to himself. 

Tanner replied “Yes darling!” in a sarcastic, mocking tone as he rose from the couch and slunk to their balcony. The sliding glass door jammed a little when he tried it, causing him more frustration than the occasion called for.

He stepped out into the warm summer air and inhaled, breathing in the aroma of a burning charcoal grill. He closed his tired eyes and listened to crickets chirping in the woods, enjoying the pleasant sounds of early summer. Read more »

A Drug Affair: How low will Payton sink to get his fix?

Payton shifted his sore body around his sheetless bed after another restless night. He squinted his dry eyes as the warm afternoon sun shone in brightly. His bleached hair was sticking out in all directions, adding stark contrast to the black circles under his eyes. He knocked over a couple of empty beer bottles on his nightstand as he reached around blindly. He closed his pale hand around his coveted glass pipe, trying his lighter a few times until a flame finally rose. Parts of the pipe were burnt and black, creating a bitter taste as he lifted it to his lips. He lit the pipe in circular motions trying to scrounge what he could, inhaling mostly hot air. His lungs burned as he coughed, and his chest ached with each breath.

As he stood up, his lean restless legs convulsed beneath him. He picked up a dingy rag to wipe beads of sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. He was starting to withdraw, and it was getting nasty. He felt thousands of invisible fire ants biting along his sensitive skin. Small noises echoed loudly around him as his anxiety skyrocketed. He needed his fix, and he needed it NOW. Read more »