Andromache's Prize Is Free Today!

Friends, my publisher, Forbidden Fiction, has made my story, Andromache's Prize, free to read for a limited time. You can find it on their free erotica page, here.

Here's the blurb:

When Briseis had belonged to noble Achilles, she had been better able to bear slavery. Now, though, the heroes had all sailed away home, leaving baser men to strip the carcass of Troy. Briseis had been given into the hands of cruel Calygdus, and nightly she suffered for his every shame and weakness. Until the night that Andromache and the women of Troy fell upon the Greek camp, slaying the men and releasing the women slaves, promising them freedom in the City of Women. Freedom, and love… (M/F, F/F)

This story includes hot, badass women, but be aware that it also contains dark content and descriptions of nonconsensual encounters.

While you're on the site, please consider checking out my short story collection, Liquid Longing. It includes plenty of dark erotica, often queer, and often mythologically based.

Free Boot Worship Fiction: Living Leather

I wrote this story recently just for fun, and I thought I'd share with all of you. Looking back over it, it owes a debt to the work of Laura Antoniou and Xan West, both of whom have written extremely hot stories involving boots. I hope you enjoy!

I wasn’t the one fucking Sarah, but it felt like I was. From my spot in the corner on the floor, I watched my master slide the toe of his boot up Sarah’s slit, then pull it away glistening.

Sarah lay in the exact center of my master’s living room, her black hair spread out around her as if it were part of the intricate pattern woven into his rug. Her hands stretched above her head—I’d tied them together and attached them to the coffee table I’d moved out of the way for the occasion. Her breasts were too full to point upward when she lay on her back. They spilled out to either side, as though her torso could not contain their abundance. Her stomach quivered visibly in response to my master’s movements. She’d spread her legs wide at his request, but she was obviously struggling to keep still. Her thigh muscles twitched occasionally, and her toes wriggled.

He returned his boot to her cunt, blocking my view of her exposed wetness. Sarah whimpered, and her right foot pointed sharply.

I sat as I’d been told to, silently, legs folded under me, hands laced together and resting atop my thighs. I was naked, and I could feel my cunt dripping onto my right heel. It was so tempting to shift a few inches so I could get more pressure from that heel where it counted, but that wasn’t in the line with the spirit of what I’d been commanded to do, so I remained still and watched.

My master stood between me and Sarah. His boots shone in the way of highly polished black marble, and that was my work. I’d spent hours on those boots before Sarah came over, bent over his feet while he relaxed. For some of it, he watched me or ran his fingers through my hair as I stroked the leather with tongue and cloth and conditioner. At other times, he leaned back in his chair and scrolled through his smartphone, mostly ignoring me. For parts of it, he rested his other boot on my back, holding me close to the floor.

I still ached—between the shoulderblades, in the forearms, at the root of my tongue. But after this and many other mornings of such attention, those boots felt as much a part of me as my own fingers. With my tears, my labor, my saliva, my love, I’d poured my own life into them, and that energy flowed forth from them now.

Sarah’s legs jerked toward each other, and my master’s boot stopped moving. “Keep them spread, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his tone dangerous. “Don’t hide that pretty cunt of yours. Especially not while I’m playing with it.”

She groaned and walked her heels out wide again. She had gorgeous feet—supple and expressive. Even if I hadn’t known what my master was doing to her, I might have guessed at her ecstatic agony from the lines of her arches. Her feet curled and uncurled in rhythm with his motions.

I wasn’t touching her physically, but my body tingled as if my nervous system connected to the living, breathing leather of his boot. I shivered, knowing in a deep way that her entrance rippled at that moment around his booted toe.

She gave one sweet sigh, and he pulled back. It must have been his signal to switch from giving pleasure to giving pain. The polished boot shifted to rest on her bare thigh. “Are you going to hold still for me?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she moaned.

He applied weight until she sucked in her breath, then switched to the other thigh. I could see a red mark on her flesh where his boot had been, and that belonged to me, too. Pain made her feet flex. Her toes strained toward the ceiling, and her calf muscles went taut. My legs tightened in sympathy.

“Good girl,” my master said, and went back to stroking her pussy with the boot. I knew how soft that leather was, and how it would absorb the warmth of Sarah’s body and feed it back to her, along with the warmth I’d given it and the warmth radiating from my master’s toes.

Sarah’s breath hitched, and I heard the distinct sound of a sob.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” he murmured. From where I sat, it looked like he wasn’t moving at all anymore, but I could imagine the tiny movement of his boot, the toe rocking just within her, as gentle as the lap of water against the sides of a mostly still pond.

“Can you keep being good, even if I untie you?” my master asked.

Sarah gave a tearful sound of assent.

“Come,” he said to me. “Get her free.”

I crawled quickly to loosen Sarah’s bonds. She’d played with us before, and knew we preferred for her not to acknowledge me. I liked the scents, sounds, and sights of sex. I loved being a tool that facilitated it. But I did not want the hole that was fucked to belong to me, and I did not want to be the person applying a fucking directly. My master’s positive attention pleased me, but my favorite moments were when he seemed to forget me, when he trusted his boots to me without acknowledgement or correction, when he treated me as an object that functioned perfectly without any need for intervention.

So I untied Sarah’s hands smoothly, careful to give her a little rope burn in the process because I knew she liked that. And I put the rope away neatly and then returned to my corner as my master gave Sarah permission to ride his boot.

She clung to his leg and dried her tears on the fabric of his jeans. Her position was awkward—back arched, straddling the floor, ass thrust out to give her the angle she needed to rub her clit against his toe. She closed her eyes and began to rock her hips, and she was fucking me now, taking me in, taking pleasure from the leather I had made soft and supple for my master as well as for her.

She grunted rhythmically as she rutted against his boot, looking gorgeous and depraved. And then, like a rare jewel falling from a tightly sealed satchel, a single moan escaped my master’s lips. The sounds from the two of them washed over my whole body, and a deep satisfaction lodged in my lower belly in a way that was no less intense than the orgasm that took Sarah a few minutes later.

My head was dizzy and my thoughts caught up in both of them. The taste of leather still lingered in the corners of my mouth. The sharp, clear scent of Sarah’s cunt spread through the room and washed all else away. Her feet moved frantically as she struggled through the last moments of her orgasm.

Then she went still, body curled around my master’s boots, one foot tucked tightly against the other. For a little while, none of us moved. Pins and needles tingled in my lower legs, but I wouldn’t be first to break the spell. At last, my master nudged Sarah gently with his toe.

“Kiss them,” he said.

Sarah pressed grateful kisses to each of his boots. Then, without being asked, she began to lick, cleaning her juices from the leather. Her movements reminded me of a kitten, quick and tender. I felt strong and indefatigable while licking those boots, but Sarah performed the same action with playfulness and vulnerability.

I looked forward to tasting that mood the next time I touched my own tongue to the leather. I shivered with pride, thinking of all those boots are, were, and could be—for me, for my master, and now for her as well. They were part of all of us, and so I was part of both of them.

My master praised Sarah for her thorough work, and then took a seat in his usual chair. “Use your mouth to take off the boots,” he said. “And then leave them next to the chair.”

Sarah couldn’t do that smoothly, but I enjoyed watching her, sweaty, sated, and a little clumsy. She bit laces and tugged them loose, and my master ran his fingers through her hair as he let her figure out the nuances on her own. Her feet moved in sympathy as she concentrated on his.

At last, the boots were off, and he leaned forward and gathered her naked body into his arms. Without a word to me, he lifted her off the floor and carried her toward the bedroom, but I knew they hadn’t forgotten me, because there the boots waited beside the chair, well-fucked and well-used, well-prepared for all my tender ministrations.

I crawled toward them and bent my head to breathe them in—the scents of Sarah’s cunt, her saliva, my master’s feet. Underneath all that was the animal scent of leather itself, a wildness that sometimes seemed to me to be responsible for the passion that rose up within us. I kissed the boots myself, enjoying how warm they felt against my lips.

As soft moans reached me from the bedroom, I held the boots close and set to work to make them shine again.

Free Erotica: Right Message, Wrong Man, Final Chapter

Forbidden Fiction is currently serializing my story "Right Message, Wrong Man" on their website, and the last chapter goes up today. This is your last chance to read it free—after this week, the story goes back behind the paywall.

Be sure to keep an eye on their free erotica section, though. It's a great way to sample a writer's work, and FF tends to keep a rotation of a diverse set of stories. The work they publish leans dark, the publisher has high literary standards, and if that's your thing this is a great place to find it.

If you'd like to see more of my work with them, they published a collection of dark fantasy erotica from me called Liquid Longing.

Free Erotica: Right Message, Wrong Man, Chapter 2

Just a quick reminder that chapter two of "Right Message, Wrong Man" is going up on the Forbidden Fiction site today. It's available to read for free for a limited time.

Here's the blurb:

Lila texted a come-on to her sometimes hook-up Jason, but instead it wound up going to her boss, Jaron. Afraid to upset her sadistic superior, Lila follows through when he responds with excitement, only to discover that Jaron knows how to hurt her in exactly the way that she needs. (M/F)

You can find more information here.

Free Erotica: Right Message, Wrong Man

I always liked mistaken identity stories, and a few years back, for a story I wrote called "Right Message, Wrong Man," I got the idea to play with an intense one. Here's the setup:

I’m in the neighborhood, I texted Jason. Can I come over? I want to get that big cock down my throat.

He wasn’t my boyfriend, by his choice, not mine. He was willing to hook up when I was horny, so long as he didn’t have anyone else over, and about three times a year, I’d get lonely enough to take that raw deal.

Tonight I just needed someone’s body touching mine. Work had been hell. My boss, Jaron, had ridden me like a show pony all damn day. If it took more than five minutes for me to answer an e-mail, he accused me of reading Internet gossip sites instead of doing my work. At the daily meeting, he threw me under the bus for a project I hadn’t been able to finish because of documents I needed from him. Asshole.

By the time 7 p.m. rolled around and it felt safe to leave—as in, enough other people had left that I wouldn’t be branded a slacker for going home—my shoulders had attached themselves to my ears, my stomach churned, and I desperately needed relief. I couldn’t afford massages or acupuncture. So I went home, threw on a short black skirt and pulled the bra out from under my red camisole, and texted Jason.

My nerves had me so edgy, I couldn’t sit still, so I worked the phone with one hand while balancing on one foot in the foyer, strapping on my sandals with the other hand. I started walking toward Jason’s neighborhood, figuring I ought to support my “in the neighborhood” lie. My dignity hung on how casually I could play this.

I kept having to consciously slow down my pace, because I didn’t want to get to Jason’s place looking sweaty and desperate. The phone buzzed in my purse with a return text, and I sighed loudly enough that a couple walking past turned and rolled their eyes at me. Fishing the phone out, I leaned against the window of a Chinese restaurant and squinted at the tiny screen (yeah, I was rocking a flip phone). Would Jason condescend to fuck me, or did he have a better offer?

This is… unexpected, the reply text said. Too soon for my place. If you want to meet at Crema, we can see what we can negotiate for my cock and your mouth in the alley out back.

I had to read it a few times. Crema? That wasn’t Jason’s neighborhood. That was some fancy neighborhood overlooking the river. And I’d never known Jason to use complete sentences.

Can you be there in 45 minutes? Another message popped up. This time, I watched it come through, complete with a picture of the sender. A military-style buzz cut framing a chiseled face and hard black eyes. A scar notched on the side of his jaw, making him look rough despite the suit he wore. My boss, Jaron. Not my fuck buddy, Jason. I fought down the urge to hyperventilate. Until that moment, I thought the expression, “So embarrassed that she wanted to die,” was an exaggeration.

If you want to see where this goes, my publisher, Forbidden Fiction, is serializing it on their website, so you can read it for free. The first chapter's up now, and the next two will go up on the next two Saturdays. If you've got questions or comments about the story, you can leave them there—I'll be keeping an eye on that, and will be sure to answer anything you bring up.

I hope you enjoy! Please check it out here.