Category: eroticliterature

Now I get to receive free handjobs because of my medical condition [MF] (Update I)

Previous post:https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/f8s5jv/i_get_to_receive_free_handjobs_because_of_my/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

So this condition actually turned my life around a lot more than I thought.

Orgasms for me used to be something I wanted to feel every other day just because they feel so good. Now that I have to have an orgasm in the intentions of “emptying” my sack, it was a lot different.

I’m always thinking about the next opportunity for me to cum. And I have to say it does bother me sometimes. However it isn’t really that bad how things turned out.

Fortunately I have an amazing girlfriend and she actually understands how hard this is for me, so she makes this a lot easier actually.
Because of my condition my girlfriend now lets me fuck her whenever I want/need.
It sounds funny describing it this way, but I think that’s very kind of her to let me do it, because I can imagine it can get tiring for her sometimes.

But we try our best to separate actually having sex for our pleasure, both mine and hers, and just me having to empty myself.

Also when we’re actually going to fuck, I do focus 100% on her pleasure and do whatever she wants to do, I think that’s only fair. Read more »

The Whore on 8th Floor [MF]

It’d been some time since Angie got home from school, heartbroken, in debt, stuck working a cashier job and taking advantage of the free rent in her parent’s basement. She had half a degree to show for it, and maybe she’d go back someday, but it surprised everyone in her small town when such a smart girl came back so abruptly. But Angie knew exactly where she went wrong in school. And despite what people thought, Angie had no regrets.

The boys in her dorm had a shared bathroom, and Angie’s room was right next to it. She’d set a goal to be as social as she could. A bit of a bookworm, she’d had a late growth spurt in high school and never was one of the cool girls. But she could change all that at College, she was certain of it. And so every day, she made a point to keep her dorm-room door wide open, and strike up as many conversations as she could. Read more »

My Sister Lizzy Part 3 [MF] [MM] [BDSM]

“Make love to me.”
I stepped up to her and began to undress her while looking deep into her eyes.
Starting with her top I lifted her arms and very slowly raised the shirt and removed it.
Leaning in for another kiss I undid her bra and she shook it off of her shoulders.
In front of me were the most wonderful breasts, as I said she had these little “A” cups with a chest that was almost flat and a pair of nipples that stood proud, like a pair of pencil erasers.
Lizzy loved her little titties and would look down with distaste to anyone who thought breasts make a woman and I loved her for that.
I spent a long while just teasing them to their full hardness.
Taking a lesson from Lizzy’s own playbook I went to my closet and took a wide black tie.

Stepping up to Lizzy I asked her “Do you trust me?”
“Yes” Was her answer.
I requested that she stand passive and not to touch me until I ask her.
Taking the tie I placed it around her eyes and tied it, blocking her vision.
I turned her away from me and began to trace my finger ever so gently across her spine and along the lines of her back.
As I did this you could see little shivers crawl up her back wherever my fingers had just traveled. Read more »

Tess, part one. [MF] [Non-Consensual] [Bondage]

“Hey honey. Lovely to see you, come in.”

Chris smiled at her as he walked in through the door. “Thanks Tess. Really hoping we can get this sorted tonight, save a lot of headaches in the next week.”

Tess led him through the house to her kitchen. As he walked along behind her, his hands quivered slightly with excitement, before he clenched them to regain control. She was the mother of the groom; Chris the best man, and he’d decided to invite himself over on any flimsy pretext he could think of. He’d known her since he was old enough to walk, completely inseperable from her boy, and he’d had a crush on her since he was old enough to fantasize.

The kitchen was a wide, spacious assault of white, polished to an immaculate shine, with a central island that was part work-top, part dining table for the informal evening. As she fetched them two glasses of red, Chris made idle chit-chat, admiring as he had so many times before. She was beautiful, there was no doubt. She was quite short, with long black hair that curled into soft, lazy ringlets, and her full lips and piercing blue eyes had gained her some traction in her modelling days. She was wearing a dark grey button up blouse with the top three buttons left open to showcase her large breasts, and loose silk leggings that caressed her hips. She wasn’t slim but was far from fat; she had some extra weight everywhere you’d want it. He decided she was plump in all the right ways. Read more »

Billionaire Breeding Agency (MF) (breeding) (Pregnancy) (BDSM) (Orgasm Denial)

If you missed Chapters 1-3 they can be read [here](https://rileyblackstone.com/2020/02/25/billionaire-breeding-agency-1/)

# Chapter 4

Michelle squealed in delight as she stood naked in her private bathroom. The plus sign seemed to glow on the pregnancy test she held in her trembling hands. She grabbed her phone and snapped a picture, sending first to Sheila, then to the old man. She knew that he had a fetish for impregnating young women and expected him to be exceptionally horny when he came home.

Michelle walked to the bed, stretching her nubile body across the comforter as she imagined the life growing inside her. Her hands felt her small breasts, slowly pinching and releasing the nipples, imagining the thrill of milk squirting out of them, wondering if the old man would like to watch the milk dribbling between her fingers. The thought made her pussy throb.

Slowly her hands slid down to her still-flat stomach. She imagined her skin being stretched as the baby grew inside her, imagined the weight of the old man pressing down on her growing belly as he continued to use her. Now that the contract was fulfilled, he could do almost anything to her, use her however he wanted. Read more »

It’s a Business, Man. [Fantasy] [Slave] [mf]

This was written as a response to a r/dirtywritingprompt but i thought it might be of interest here.
Original Link – https://www.reddit.com/r/DirtyWritingPrompts/comments/f8mq7d/ip_welcome_to_the_slave_auction_each_girl_or_guy/

Feedback and constructive criticism welcomed!

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Kolvan pulled sharply on the metal handle of the large wooden door swinging it open. The tall elf strode confidently through the entrance to the marketplace with his right-hand man, Torgan the Orc, following closely behind.

“Hello Sir,” the perky elf behind the reception desk said “were you coming to see our wares today? Only 3 gold pieces for you both to enter and then all our merchandise inside is for sale.” She smiled politely as she leant her hand over the counter expectantly. Kolvan waved his hand and moved towards the second set of doors as Torgan was left to hand over the gold pieces.

“Welcome Sir’s”.” one of the two armed Orcs, acting as both the welcoming party and securing, said as they made their way towards double doors to the ‘showroom’.

Kolvan stepped inside and breathed deeply, his eyes breathing in the sights, his ears devouring the sounds of the busy marketplace and the almost tangible taste of quality wares being tested and sold on his palette. Read more »

the subjugation of the disgusting elven race by the superior humans, chapter one: the rape, torture, and breaking of syllia, immortal elf, by the princess of the northern realms

somewhere in her twenties, syllia had finally lost count of the number of times the humans had raped her, shoving their digits or their tongues or their cocks into the various orifices of her body. the first few years it had been nearly constant, a barrage of sweaty, pallid flesh that left an acrid stench in her nostrils. even now, centuries later, the stink of human was enough to make her want to reach into her throat and pull out her own lungs.

she was perhaps a hundred and fifty or so when she lost count of how many masters she’d been bought by, passed from family to family as a fuck toy and a rape doll and a torture slut for their pleasure – too willful, they said, too dangerous – each new family pressing that hateful brand into her forehead as they made her a new oathword, the spell that branded all of her race, kept every elf man, woman and child under bondage. she’d lost count of how many times it had been used too, for every slight (or perceived slight), every hint of rebellion, stamping out her will beneath an ocean of dark pain. Read more »

A dream I had about my wife

He drove home after a late night at school. A decent day, but still happy to head home. Wife and child in their probably too big, probably too bright home. Quiet “how was your day?”  and playing “family” ahead of him. He would be the baby. The girl would be the mom. Fun. Exhausted fun. He would cook dinner. Two would enjoy. The small one not so much. The little one would go to sleep after bargaining and sincere questioning. Not a drop of malice, but still a mini marathon of patience. He would clunk back down the stairs. She would be on the couch. In work clothes. Or sweats. TV on.  She would be watching. Or on her phone. Working. Or not. There. Or not. All would be fine. He might advance. She might consent. Or not. The sun barely set, they would brush their teeth. One last glance or ten at the phone. Lights off. Sleep. Or not. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. 

He opens the garage. Climbs out of his car. Steels himself for nothing in particular. Ready to greet and repeat. But. Read more »

Sit, Stay, Good Dog [MF][Pet Play]

He takes her for a walk in the woods. They hold hands at first; a couple out for a stroll. It’s a bright day. Sun-dappled. Pleasant. Half a mile down the track, having seen not a single other person, he puts the collar on her. The metal one, which locks with a screw. She makes sure to keep pace just a half-step behind him. Bad puppies tug. Good puppies heel.

A way further on they leave the path. He has her hold the leash in her mouth while he takes her dress off her and helps her step out of her underwear. Sunlight on naked skin. He takes the leash back and leads her away through the undergrowth.

There are brambles. She whines when they catch her thighs, open scratches on her skin. She doesn’t speak. She knows what she’d get if she did: a swift tap on the nose, an admonishment. “Puppies don’t speak,” he would tell her. *Remind* her, actually, since she knows the rules already.

They pick and poke and scratch their way through the forest until they arrive at a small clearing. A tree lurches crooked in the centre. He marches her up to it, loops the end of the leash around a limb and clips it into place. Read more »