A new title : No Touching!

Hello again!

I have at last finished a new title.  It's called No Touching!  and is a steamy romance containing the usual fetish elements that find their way into my stories, including a new one that involves the use of fruit or vegetables.
As I explain in the opening pages, this story is based on three events which happened to co-workers and friends some years ago; I've blended those events into one story, which I hope you'll enjoy.  The e-book is available on Amazon in all its flavors right now, and it should be up on Smashwords, Draft2Digital and all their associated companies (including Apple and Barnes & Noble) in the next few days.

Here are a few details:

Adults Only.  Warning: this was written for an audience aged over 18 and it contains elements which some people may find offensive, such as the watersports fetish and the use of fruit or vegetables in a sex act.
 
Sheila offers George a lift home after an office party one night.  On the way, she acts on an impulse and - unintentionally - arouses his passions; her feelings are stimulated, too, and this incident leads to a weekly session where they meet at his house. 
Standing opposite each other, face-to-face, they watch as they perform acts with themselves in which they find sexual fulfillment.  They have an important rule: they are not permitted to touch each other’s bodies, and this self-imposed regulation drives their excitement to a higher level.
When this thrill gets out of control, there are unforeseen results.  Will they ever be able to resume their kinky practices?  And will their strange routine allow their relationship to evolve into anything closer?

And here's a short extract:



     I arrived on George’s doorstep armed with a bottle of wine and a cake.  I hoped that might charm him round after the two flashpoints we’d had in the office that week.
     When he opened the door to invite me in, he wore a broad smile that disarmed me; I was expecting to have a frank conversation with him to clear the air before we started.  “Thanks for this,” he said as he accepted the wine.  “It’s very generous, but you shouldn’t have bothered.”
     “But I wanted to.  After the week we’ve had at the office.”
     “The office is an entirely different world.  Let’s pretend that it doesn’t exist.”
     In an ordinary situation, in the circles in which I moved, it would be natural for us to greet each other with a brief kiss on the cheek at a social event.  But he kept his distance; I needed no reminder of our “no touching” rule.
     He invited me to sit down in his living room while he uncorked the wine and fetched a knife and two plates to serve the cake.  Looking round the room again, I saw a cluster of bananas in a fruit bowl on a shelf near the table.  I felt a warm glow; I’d been thinking about using a banana, and had made a mental note to bring some with me to this session.  But there was no need.
     “Here we are,” he announced, bringing in two full glasses of wine.  “Would you like to carve the cake?”
     I cut two slices and served them on the plates.
     “I’d like to try something different tonight,” he said.  “Do you have any thoughts?”
 
 -------------

While I have your attention, I would like to offer my apologies for my apparent lack of productivity recently - I have so much I want to write, but I've had to spend time in hospital recently - without my laptop - and my family insisted I take a holiday afterwards; they took me to a remote place that didn't have an Internet connection.  Then, when I returned home, a couple of solicitous in-laws arrived on my doorstep "to look after me"; things turned out differently, and I spent my time looking after them while I had plots and ideas whizzing round in my brain and I didn't have the chance to get many of them down on paper.
As a result of this, I've decided to spend the next six months living like a hermit.  Maybe that will give me the chance to catch up.

Finally, you may have noticed in my earlier remarks that Draft2Digital are handling some of my work now.  Unfortunately they appear to be staffed by a congregation of Puritans and they've asked me to change some of my covers and descriptions which they deem to be inappropriate.  They're relatively new on the scene, and don't like to risk upsetting people.  This has meant extra work for me and, as a result, these guys are still on probation as far as I'm concerned.

That's all for now, Folks!  Now, back to a new story for the forthcoming Waterlines 20....

Best
Chris

A Poor Nun's Endowment - Author's Notes

Hello everyone!

My latest title is published today - A Poor Nun's Endowment. I've described it as an Erotic Dickgirl Fantasy but it has a medieval historical flavour. This is the third story in the dickgirl/futa/futinari theme and, unless I'm persuaded to write something else in this vein, it'll be the last. I have other stories - in other fetishes - that are lined up to be told!

Here's the storyline:

Mary is a country girl with a tomboy streak. When she reaches adulthood, and finds herself excluded from the company of the boys with whom she grew up, she rebels and her father consigns her to a convent. On the journey there, she is approached by an old crone and granted one wish; on an impulse, she makes a strange choice: she wants a penis, so she can be accepted in the young men's group. But fate consigns her to the priory, where Mary unwittingly falls under the spell of the evil Sister Benedicta, mistress of the novices; when Benedicta discovers Mary's anatomical transformation, she makes her her own private sex-pet and Mary finds herself installed as a hermitess, confined to a private cell... where only Benedicta can come and use her to fulfil her own sexual desires any time she wishes. Is there no escape?
A chance visit by a face from her lost past - and the simultaneous arrival of the Great Pestilence (The Black Death) - offer her the opportunity she needs. Will she grasp the moment with both hands? And what then, when the known world is turned upside down?

SAMPLE EXTRACT:

Mary sat on the end of her bed and allowed her tears to run freely. She heard a noise outside her door and realised the bar that confined her here was being raised; she assumed it was Sister Benedicta again and decided not to move; she would have to see the miserable state to which she had subjected her.
It wasn’t Benedicta. It was Clare and three other young nuns. “Dear Philomena, what has happened to you? Why are you so unhappy?”
She would tell them, she decided. To hell with the consequences. She tried to dry her eyes.
They sat on her bed next to her. “Come. You can tell us. We are your friends.”
“Close the door, and I’ll tell you. But this must remain private. Between the four of us here today.”
“All right,” Clare said.
“I have a secret. A terrible secret. Only Sister Benedicta knows of this, and she has been... taking advantage of it.”
“A secret?”
Mary stood up and turned to face them. She felt she was crossing a bridge; there could be no turning back now. What she showed them could not be forgotten. “Since I have arrived here, my body has changed. I am still a woman, just like all of you, but now I have... this....”
She pulled up the front of her habit; they gasped.
Clare was the first to speak. “I knew of a boy who had a fine voice and, before it broke, the monks had him castrated so that he would not lose the beautiful sound he created. Are you not really a boy like him?”
“When I first came here, most of you will have seen me naked when I was being prepared. The senior sisters would be sure to have noticed this when they undressed me.” She let the hem of her robe fall and she returned to her seat on the bed beside them.
“So how has Sister Benedicta been taking advantage of you?”
“How do you think?”
They gasped again. “Surely... surely not... that?”

-----------

Whilst writing, I have to tell you that I have a number of other projects planned for this site - it's all in my head, and the only problem is finding time to write everything down!

Until next time,

Best,

Chris

Dating a Dickgirl - a novella for Futa fans

My Muse visited me around 3 a.m. one morning, while I was trying to get back to sleep, and suggested a new short story to me.  I'd finished Illusions, and was selling quite well, and Muse gave me the outline of a new tale I could write about a woman who'd actually had a modification to her sexual apparatus.  So, when I had time to spare, I began writing Dating a Dickgirl.

Here's the blurb - with an extract:

Leslie meet Ashley during a speed-dating event, and he's immediately attracted to her.  During their first date, his hand brushes against her crotch accidentally, and he wonders if she really is what she seems; as he gets to know her, it's apparent that she has secrets and he begins to lose interest in her... although he'd like to know exactly what she's hiding, and why.  Then he lands a date with Katie, a widow he met while speed-dating, and - after a shaky start - she presents him with a kinky range of sexual delights.  But when Ashley finally unveils her secret to Leslie - literally - his libido goes wild.  She has immense wealth and makes him an extraordinary offer, but would it guarantee him happiness forever?  There's only room in his life for one girl; which one is the right one for him?

EXTRACT:

          “Have you used sex toys, Leslie?”
          “What do you mean, Katie?  Handcuffs and other BDSM stuff?”
          “No.  I bought a vibrator to use to finish off if he couldn’t do it for me, but - in the end - I used it on myself while he was out.  And I even bought one of those strap-on dildo things.  I’d heard some men enjoy anal sex - if you can reach up to their prostate, you can get them to come that way, without the need for a hand-job.”
          “But were they designed to go up a man’s anus?”  I asked.  “I’m sure the ones I’ve seen would be too thick to go up mine.”
          “We could try later, if you wanted.”  Her eyes lit up.
          “Some other time, perhaps.  Let’s be conventional, just tonight, and see what happens.”
          “As you wish.  But you admitted you were an adventurous sort of person.”
          “I never used toys.  No: I had a fetish and my last girlfriend wasn’t keen.”
          She looked at me expectantly.  When I didn’t enlarge on my last comment, she became impatient.  “Well?  Come on, Leslie.  I’m waiting.  What is this secret fetish you have?”
          “Golden showers, or watersports.  I enjoy watching women pee, or feeling them pee against my genitals.”
          “Oh, is that all?  I thought it was going to be something really wild and kinky.”
          “Well, she thought it was kinky.  And that I was a pervert for entertaining such thoughts.”
          “Leslie, you’re not a pervert.  Trust me.  I’d be happy to water your dick and balls for you, if it was going to turn you on.”
....
          Within the next fifteen minutes, we were on her sofa; I sat at one end, and she sprawled herself across its length with her head resting in my lap.  She looked up at me and smiled.  “I know that spending the afternoon watching that movie doesn’t come anywhere near the wonderful Saturday afternoon you gave me last week, but I have to tell you that I feel like I’m in heaven with you right now.”
          I caressed her hair.  We were both relaxing, listening to some soft romantic music.
          Without warning, she rolled over and, looking down at my fly, quickly unzipped it and fished out my prized possession.  “He's my special friend,” she announced.  Then her head sank down, taking my penis between her lips.
          My hand found its way up her skirt; when I realised she was wearing stockings, I felt my dick growing quickly.  My fingers traced onward until they found her anal crevice, and worked their way forward to touch the wet entrance to her vagina.
          She drew her head away from my lap and looked up at me.  “Shall we go to bed?”
          “I’m ready when you are.”
          “I need to pee first.  Shall we stop in the bathroom on the way?”

----------------

I started out with the aim of containing the whole narrative in a space of around 10,000 words, which follows my recent pattern of writing.  But other forces intervened.  A secondary character insisted on having a greater role in the story and, by the time I'd finished, the whole story came to nearly 30,000 words - a novella, rather than a short story.  And, from this, the idea for a prequel emerged - set six hundred years earlier, round an ancestor of one of the primary characters in Dating a Dickgirl; provisionally entitled Dickgirl in a Dungeon, this will follow just as soon as I've finished my new project, a contemporary short story.

I do hope you enjoy reading Dating a Dickgirl!

Best

Chrissie

Latest title: Deflowered

(Note added, October 15: Amazon took exception to some aspects of this book and it has been retitled His First Time.  However, every word in the book is the same... only the title and the front cover have had to be changed.  And, at the time of writing, you can still get the original version from Smashwords, Barnes & Noble and Apple).

My latest title, Deflowered, has just been published on Amazon.  It should also be available through Smashwords, Barnes & Noble and Apple very soon.  It’s a reasonably short story - over 12,000 words; I did try to keep it to a standard ten thousand, but the characters wouldn’t stop talking towards the end, and I couldn’t get everything resolved within the usual timeframe.  I just kept writing until the characters reached their happy ending.
 

Here’s the blurb:

Daniel is 19 but looks a handsome 23.  He secures a job in an office where he’s the only guy; his co-workers are prickly to start with but, when a couple of them find out he's a virgin, he's led into a world of sexual release through the discovery of a fetish which excites his desire.  But is it enough to tempt him to stay with that crowd, who can get up to some crazy mischief?  Or is there another girl, waiting for him, with whom he might reach new heights? 

EXTRACT:

When they arrived at the pub, they found an empty table, long enough to accommodate them all.  Judith appointed herself as the waitress and started taking orders.  A kitty was agreed, and each member of the group contributed their share into a growing pile of cash on the table.

“Do you need a hand with the drinks?” he asked her.

“No, she doesn’t,” said one girl; when he turned to identify her, he realised it was Sandra, the same girl who had tripped into his arms the evening before.  “Come and sit next to me, Daniel.”

He shrugged and obeyed.  The girls were pairing themselves off, starting to talk to their neighbour round the table.

“I’m sorry about the misunderstanding yesterday,” Sandra began.  “I get the impression that you thought I was taking the piss.  I wasn’t.  I’ve got a little girlie crush on you, and I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

He thought quickly.  “Maybe.  I’m not sure...”

“Would this help you make up your mind?”  She quickly grabbed his wrist and thrust his hand up her skirt. 

His instinct was to draw away from her sharply, but it was too late.  He felt the warm pantyhose covering her crotch and was overcome with a desire to have some kind of sex with her.

“Keep it up there for as long as you like,” she whispered to him.  “And this afternoon, if you fancy it, we could go down the basement for some fun together.”

----------------

Now for some other news.  One of my recent titles, Illusions, has met with some success from an unexpected readership - fans of Futanari (or ‘Dickgirl’) fiction.  I decided I’d follow this through with an experiment, writing another story based more solidly in the Futanari/Dickgirl sub-genre.  I decided it would probably be around 10,000 words long - like so many of the other titles I’ve created - but I’m already at the four thousand word point and, from the way I’ve set the pace, the story looks like it’s going to be nearer 20,000 or even 30,000 words in length.  But don’t worry - length of my work doesn’t affect the price. 

The working title?  Dickgirl Dating.

I'm always pleased to hear from my readers - please write in!
The address is cpw@restroom.net

Until next time,

Chris