Category: eroticliterature

A Sorcerer’s new pet – Chapter 9 – Cornered – [M+F+] [NC] [Humil] [Magic] [Fantasy] [Edging]

[Chapter 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ogs3ss/a_sorcerers_new_pet_chapter_1_rescued_mf_nc_humil/)

[Chapter 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/oh67sk/a_sorcerers_new_pet_chapter_2_trained_ff_nc_humil/)

[Chapter 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ohojx2/a_sorcerers_new_pet_chapter_3_tormented_mf_nc/)

[Chapter 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/oinxmh/a_sorcerers_new_pet_chapter_4_conditioned_mf_nc/)

[Chapter 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ojttrw/a_sorcerers_new_pet_chapter_5_tempted_mf_nc_humil/)

[Chapter 6](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/oli6df/a_sorcerers_new_pet_chapter_6_mocked_mf_nc_humil/)

[Chapter 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/opjrh2/a_sorcerers_new_pet_chapter_7_unleashed_mf_nc/)

[Chapter 8](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/orflao/a_sorcerers_new_pet_chapter_8_cowered_mf_nc_humil/)

– – – – – – – – –

Ice-cold dread gnawed at the pit of Lily’s stomach. Her worst nightmare was about to descend on her again. Breaching all etiquette, she implored Master with her eyes but could see only coldness reflected in his.

He was disappointed, and it was all that cursed slut’s fault.

Lily had done her best, but the bitch had not only interrupted Master – something she had just learned rifling through her recent memories – but had also refused to follow his orders in front of his associates.

She had redeemed herself in the end, but it had been too little, too late. Master was furious with Lily, and she couldn’t blame him.

The Remnant made sure her loathing for the cunt flowed through their connection. She would make the slut pay dearly later. First, though, she needed to survive the evening. Read more »

The sexual meditation that taught me how to love myself better.

There was a moment back in the early winter of 2019 where I was hurting and lonely, starved out on a lot of levels, feeling rejected and denied, thirsty and needy. I was struggling with feelings of unworthiness and rage bricked behind a thick wall of pent up lust and frustration. My head felt like it could have imploded with everything I was feeling.

But then I walked past the main room mirror on the wall. I stopped, looked in the mirror, and saw myself. I walk pass this mirror everyday, this is a small flat and I’m practically a hermit, and every day I see my image walk across it with me.

In previous years, I winced at what I saw. There were days where I saw a shadow of what I used to be, a ghost or a zombie, something not quite alive, not quite there. There were days where I saw a fighter, someone who needed to always be alert to protect what mattered most. There were days were I saw a failure, someone who failed to save their family, someone who failed to end the cycle of abuse for so many people, someone who was failing to properly take care of the one they cared about the most. There were days where “I” wasn’t really there at all, something looked into the mirror and something looked back with twisted facial expressions and wet, wide, red eyes. Read more »

Hey Y’all [Content Request]

So, lately I’ve been challenging myself with my writing and testing my capabilities as a writer in terms of creating with only a vague idea of a who/what/when/where.

I’d love it if y’all could help me in this creative venture and join me on this little journey I’ve decided to go on.

So, if you’d be interested, drop some ideas in the comments and I’ll see what my twisted mind can conjure up. However, the ideas must be vague, as that only adds to the fun. It can be a word, an object, a theme, whatever you’d like – just as long as you keep it relatively amorphous, of course.

I’ve really been venturing into the world of dark and horror based erotica, so if there’s anything in particular you’d like to read, just say so in the comments and I’ll do my best to make something decent of it. I can’t promise that all of your ideas will be utilized, but I will carefully consider each one.

Of course, if I choose to use your idea(s), I will credit you at the beginning of the story once it’s posted. Read more »

I Sleep Nude, She Wears Pyjamas [MF] (CFNM)

I like to sleep in the nude. Stark naked. No underwear, no socks, just my skin and the covers. I have basically since I became an adult. My girlfriend is the exact opposite – she loves her pyjamas. Sometimes it seems like half her wardrobe is sleepwear, from the full-length striped flannel to the little satin shorts and tops to the brief, thin nighties. And if it’s not the dedicated sleepwear, she slides under the covers with at least her panties on, but usually a long shirt or a tank top as well. Sometimes I’m blessed by her lingerie, all straps and lace cutouts, accentuating her considerable assets, but never giving it all away. There is a fundamental inequality in exposure when we go to bed, but it doesn’t bother me at all.

Firstly, she likes to look at me, and I make sure she gets to. She’s usually in bed reading by the time I come in. I always notice the way she peeks over the top of her book when I strip, how she spies at my body, my dick, my ass as I move my used clothes to the basket and stretch a final time before lying down. Read more »

An Improbable Stream of Sexual Consciousness [M+F]

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The hotel bar is dark, but busy. You walked in, trying to act nonchalant. Reminding yourself to look confident, un-self-aware, as if you were here for business, just one of the guests. You haven’t felt the cold outside, thanks to the warm, buzzing feeling inside. The fabric of your black dress, thin, pressing against your skin, slides smoothly against your overcoat. You can feel the goosebumps all over your body. The anticipation is intense, and so is the second-guessing.

Should you have come? This is insane. He won’t show. Your mind is racing. It was one thing to exchange glances, but now…. You sit in a comfortable chair back away from the bar. Still trying to look nonchalant, you scan the bar anxiously, wondering if I’m there. The businessmen at the bar, the loner here and there, wondering if one of them is me. You order a drink from the waitress and wait. You shouldn’t have come, you tell yourself. You drink it too quickly. But the alcohol does its work. You feel calmer soon. Read more »

Wife fattened up group of feeders

A woman is wheeled out in a wheelchair and sat on her own giant scale that has a huge digital read out. It’s next to a table of very very fattening foods. Pies, chocolate, cooking oil, butter, burgers, pizzas, etc.

She has on a blue latex suit and has in a red ball gag. The table has 5 chefs around it. All have the chefs have on aprons and chef hats. The first pre-feeding weight is now registered

One of the chefs would comment that they would get her rounder when they were done. She looks scared and nervous at the same time. The chefs start picking up some of the fattening food and start force feeding her nonstop. You can see her doing her best to eat as much as she can. After about 5 mins she looks at her readout and see it is creeping up in weight. She begins to scream when she figures out what is going on.

Her scale kept going up. The more food that was forced down her throat, the slower the scale crept up. She literally watched herself being fattened up. Read more »

I thirst for a muse that doesn’t exist, I’m too fatigued, too wounded, I need my fix. In this post, only in this post, in this moment, I relapse, I surrender to this madness. Fuel me, fuel me so I can set myself and my partner free from this.

These lingering images, they taunt me so much. I walked a year ago, worked on myself, healed the addiction, but circumstances are draining me out on all levels, and very little is fueling me. Nootropics used to work, now they don’t and there’s no good reason for it. Other techniques help stabilize my mood but the fatigue and brain fog is relentless.

That thirst, binging on those fantasies, that got me through before. I never had such a wide selection of muses before, but they don’t ignite me in the ways I need and this makes me livid.

Walking away from the last muse tanked my sexual thirst, my treatment regimen worked, it worked well, but life is backing me into a corner and nothing is boosting me in the ways I need.

So life, stop cucking me with those visuals of someone I can’t taste, this isn’t doing much for me, other than adding to the anger and frustration and this isn’t helping my body and mind function better.

I force out those visuals over and over again, but they come back worse lately. Show me a muse worthy of the things in my mind, of the kinds of art I’d make of them, of the handcrafted sensory installations I’m dying to construct. Read more »

I roughly shove my fingers in your panties, feeling how wet you are

Wanna whisper dirty things in your ear, naughty, filthy things, flustering you. Drag my hand over your throat, gripping at it.

“Do you like it when Im rough with you my little pet?”

You nod, unable to speak from the pressure on your throat. Humming as I trail my big hands all over your cute little body until I get to your white lacy panties.

“Mm.. look at you. you’re so fucking innocent, babygirl”.

I roughly shove my fingers in your panties, feeling how wet you are. “You liked the things I said to you, didn’t you slut?”

You whimper, putting your hand over mine

“Yes…”

“Yes what? Hmm?”

“Yes sir”

I whisper, “That’s my good girl”

Flipping you over and ripping your panties off, with a grin on my face, before I pull out my cock, shoving it inside of you quickly and fucking you so rough.

“Mm… I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t fucking resist.” With one hand wrapped around your neck Read more »

Wrongful Rejection = Warranted Revenge

*You talk too much.* That’s what she told me.

Funny, she’d been so receptive until then, but, I’d noticed something had changed in those last few weeks. She was distant, her replies diminishing from paragraphs of carnal promise to shorter sentences around neutral topics. Finally I dragged it out of her with my persistence. And no, I know what you’re thinking, I wasn’t bothersome about it. Just crafty. I have to give myself credit, *I have a hell of a way with words.*

In the end it was my passion that drove her away though. Her parting statement the ultimate blow to my psyche—*You’re just,* ***too*** *intense.*

Now, typically I’m the kind of the guy who can let things go, especially opinions of me. I don’t need you to like me, but I also don’t enjoy wasting my time and energy on people. And that’s what I did. Three months of talking, building a rapport, for nothing. And I *liked* this girl, fuck. She *got* me. At least I thought she did. Read more »

Bloodletting Song: A Fairy Tale of the Transylvanian Concubines [supernatural]

Bloodletting Song: A Fairy Tale of the Transylvanian Concubines

by Dmitri Storm.

Once upon a time there lived a girl named Magdalena. Magdalena was smart, beautiful and fast to learn any skill she set her mind to. Magdalena could have been anything she wanted, but life is cruel, and she was born a slave.

Magdalena served in the court of Tsarevitch of the Mountain, a petty warlord who called himself a king. From her youngest days, Magdalena’s life revolved around her Master and the men and women at his court. She served them food and drink, danced for them, and, when she was old enough, was used by them sexually.or sang for them, or danced for them.

When she was old enough, Magdalena became a pleasure slave. She was expected to look pretty, to make the cocks of men hard and the slits of women wet, and then to pleasure those organs. If she failed, her Master would look less impressive, and Magdalena was frequently beaten when she was not satisfying enough. Read more »