Peeling back the layers of a very sordid neighbourhood…!

This is an everyday story about the steamy side of neighbourhood life! Or is it? Danny lives with his sister Kelly who’s going out with the strange boy from next door, Greg. Or is she? As she seems to be friendly with Sue and maybe it’s Sue going out with Greg? Or is it Sue dating Kelly? But hang on, is Greg gay or straight or…ambivalent? And Danny fancies Greg’s stepmother Alison, who’s sizzling hot but she too old; he’s too young and what would Greg think anyway if they got together? Then there’s this box of delicious toys that Kelly got Danny to order for her! Or was it for Sue or maybe Greg, but got delivered to Alison’s by mistake! Confused? You will be when you enter the sexually deviant crazy mixed up world of emerging authoress Emilia Blythe’s salacious, sordid, soap! Funny, sexy, dirty and unmissable!

Extract

Danny

Life’s a bitch. Then you marry one!
Well that’s what I’d been told…but truth was I was as yet still too young to know for sure!
Another thing I didn’t know?
What on earth is Kerry doing messing about with Greg?
Greg’s the boy from next door. Funny looking; slim, weak, weedy, pale with small horn rimmed glasses, in fact when I come to think of it he actually and definitely looks a bit gay!
What on earth is Kerry doing with him?
Kerry’s my younger sister by the way.
Quite a looker, even if I say so myself; she’s 18 with a body of a woman, tall, athletic with a pretty face and long blonde hair.
In fact she’s bloody gorgeous, so what on earth is she doing spending time with such a wimp?
I know she’s not a virgin, well pretty sure; she’s been dating since she was 14, so I think she knows her way around the block, so to speak.
My own hormones have been raging forever, I’m19, and thinking about girls all the time!
I’ve been lucky a few times, I know my way a little around the mating game as well, so to speak, but lately, I’ve just had a hankering for more.
Getting greedy I guess!
Anyway going back to Kerry!
She made me buy a whole load of stuff from off the internet.
It was a wholesale site for sex toys; she filled her basket and then made me use my credit card to order.
I was the only one she knows with a card, that’s why she asked me; it came to nearly $500 and she said that she would give me a 10% profit on it from her for what she wanted and help me sell the rest if I needed her to?
And maybe put a good word in for me with some of her pals.
I mean some of her friends were really hot so I didn’t want to argue too much with Kerry; she was sweet, but quite forceful in her own way.
That was a few weeks ago and life towards the end of my teenage years was definitely getting more and more bizarre.
Kerry and I lived with Mum and Dad.
Mum was in real estate and Dad was selling for some computer firm or other.
We were pretty happy, sat down to eat together, occasionally, and as long as Kerry and I were pulling in decent grades they pretty much left us alone.
I was in the last year of high school and Kerry was just starting her senior years.
I was sporty, into baseball and football.
Not the best but, pretty good, in fact proficient enough to make out with the occasional cheerleader.
Kerry was quite helpful like that, she’d help me now and then, like with Sherry Young, we had quite a thing going for a while but then it fizzled out, like things do!
Now that unfortunately brings me back to Greg!
Greg is my age lives next door with his mother, Alison.
Now she really is hot!
She’s small, make me seem like a giant but really shapely with long dark hair and the sweetest ass and smile ever.
How she could have a son like Greg is beyond me?
Well it was her stepson actually so I suppose that explains it!
Must have been that from that runt of a husband who I understood had run out on her a while ago, before she moved next door!
The problem with Greg being so close is that it’s really hard for me to take my fist and ram it in his stupid face without having to face the consequences.
He always annoyed me and now unbelievably, he seems to be spending more and more time at our house, and has taken to disappearing into Kelly’s room for sometimes, hours on end!
Mum and Dad seem to be oblivious to it all; they presume Kelly can take care of herself.
Well she can!
But…I just cannot understand what she’s doing with him?
I remember a few weeks ago when I saw him at school; he didn’t know I was behind him and he was boasting stupidly to his geeky friends that he was going to get into Kerry’s pants!
I should have hit him there and then but it’s not my business!
Well maybe it is but how can I blame him, all the boys want to get into my sister’s knickers, especially when she’s in her divine red cheerleader outfit.
God life is just so weird!
And she’s driving me mad about the internet toy stuff!
I don’t know where it is!
I’ve sent them a reminder; Kelly is just going crazy at the moment.
I just don’t understand her any more at all as if I ever did?
Thankfully only a few more months and I’ll be at University.
I’ll be pleased to see the back of this small town, it’s all becoming a bit boring, a bit provincial, predictable; sometimes I close my eyes and just wish something exciting would happen!

Kelly

It’s funny how things start!
It was just a silly childish idea at first and then it seems to grow and expand as if it had a mind of its own.
I only saw it in passing on the Net; it amused me, interested me and made this little germ in my devious brain start to grow.
The trouble is I’ve always had an active imagination, I loved sex from the first time Bobby Grace placed his stubby fingers in my knickers.

Sordid Soap on Amazon

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Life is unusual, sometimes you crave something so much, until you discover you didn’t really want it in the first place; and what you never wanted at all, suddenly becomes indispensable. That’s how it began for young innocent, virginal teenage Joanne who desired David, the school heartthrob, more than she ever thought possible.
It was the 50’s, small town America, a sedate and a simpler time, but where there was new energy, rock and roll music and a hidden repressed sexuality just bubbling under the surface, waiting to be discovered and unleashed
Joanne lived with her mother Mary to whom life had never been kind. It was not easy being an unmarried mother in a tiny puritan, judgmental community where such things were frowned upon. Mary herself was unhappy, desperate for one last adventure in her life that would raise her spirit and her body once more from the lethargy of her pale existence and sly, pervasive, alcoholism. Almost from the first seconds of her meeting Jake, a mysterious young local James Dean, who Joanne had hated almost immediately, she was putty in his manipulative lascivious hands. She somehow allowed herself to be led along, following her innocent and naïve daughter, down a dangerous unusual, sensual, seductive, path into the man’s controlling, demanding sexual grasp that had consequences, far beyond what they could all initially see.
A second wonderfully erotic and arousing story from the emerging Emilia Blythe. It tells a dark cautionary sexual tale that, families should stick together, but maybe not quite as closely as Joanne and Mary chose to do!

EXTRACT:

David was a dream-boat!

He was tall, athletic and always immaculately dressed although I always thought his dark black hair was a little longer than it should have been.

The young man was extremely good looking however, and I constantly daydreamed about his hazel eyes meeting mine; his strong arms drawing me close to him in a warm, exciting, passionate embrace.

I was naïve and innocent, only just turned eighteen but was determined that David would be my boyfriend, and I planned my campaign to win his affection with utter determination and absolute precision.

I knew he would be at the school dance, the Prom, and I spent all afternoon in front of the mirror making myself as beautiful as possible.

It wasn’t easy!

My face was too rounded, it was splattered with freckles and my brunette hair was short and bobbed, although I would have preferred it longer and more glamorous like the film stars I saw each week at the local picture house.

But my mother insisted, as had been her nature from my earliest memories; I was to be demure, pretty, as if she didn’t seem to understand that I needed every advantage to win David from all the competition!

I applied make-up to cover my freckles as best I could, to make my nose look smaller.

Pink lipstick, thin nylon stockings and the shortest beige frilly prom dress that my mother would allow me to get away with.

Although my breasts were developed and firm I even stuffed some cotton wool down my bra to give me that extra certain something.

This was war!

My mother looked at me disapprovingly as I came downstairs, but before I could listen and be annoyed by her puritan remarks, my best friend Dianne drew into our drive in her father’s open top sedan as we were going to the dance in style.

I kissed my closely related tormentor gently on her soft pink, scrunched, angry cheek then dashed out of the house before she could stop me.

“Bye Mum, see you later.”

I threw myself into the front seat and tossed my hair back in the warm breeze in gleeful, youthful abandon

“Let’s go Dianne!”

I screamed at her childishly but we were both agitated and giggled excitedly as we drove away in a scramble of stones and grit.

I turned and looked at my friend and I secretly seethed; she looked horribly cool and delicious.

Blonde hair, a cute, pert nose and the white frilly petticoat dress, similar to mine, made her figure look, sensational, and that was without any padding!

She smiled at me, as if sensing my petty jealousy and anger and I noticed just how elegantly she held her-self and how her slim neck seemed so refined and ladylike.

She was my best friend but I just wanted to murder her!

The dance was busy, bustling with energy and life; we helped ourselves to strawberry punch and wandered between the sprawling humanity that represented our classmates.

Another few months and we would all be off to college and this dance seemed like the final Hurrah for all of us.

My heart suddenly stopped as David, and another boy came over to us and, the love of my life, spoke softly and dreamily to us, like a seductive whisper.

“Hi, girls, this is Jake.”

Dianne and I ignored the introduction to his new unknown friend, and conjured up the most devastating smiles we could for David.

He took my hand gently, danced with me and I thrilled when my whole body shook as we moved to the energetic and exciting rhythm of the new rock and roll numbers.

*

To continue to read this explicit mother daughters sex story, please click on the link below.

Mothers & Daughters on AMAZON

The post Mothers & Daughters – by Emilia Blythe appeared first on TANTALUS-PRESS.

And so begins descent into her own personal world of submission, humiliation and repressed desire.

But one night as she is forced to display herself openly for just anyone to see…another set of eyes are watching…

…a set of eyes which will change the nature of everything…

Word count: 8,944

EXTRACT:

She glances at the clock, it is almost midnight. She is ready. Ready for what she wonders? She doesn’t know. She never knows. Well, not until midnight. Not until he phones. She has three minutes.

She can feel her breathing tremble.

Her face stares back at her from the mirror. A little bit more of the lip-gloss she thinks. She knows he likes it heavy. So does she. Somehow it puts a barrier between the women she has to be tonight, and her everyday self, the one she can handle. The one she tries to cling onto. The one he is slowly grinding away.

She gives her full lips one last coat. Her make-up is complete. She is that woman. The woman she has to be to please him; to please them. And she is aware that no matter what she has to please. He will not accept anything less. Somehow he owns her now, owns her secrets, and owns all of her most secret selves.

She moves from the bedroom into the living area.

As always all the lights are all off but the window blinds are fully open. One whole wall is open to the blocks opposite. Mostly those windows are in darkness, a few squares of light are scattered here and there. She has long ceased to wonder which one he watches from. She only knows that she can be seen.

She sits and she waits. She is naked, not even jewellery, nothing; like the day she was born. She is the blank canvas awaiting the artist. She lights a cigarette, the lighter flame flaring in the darkness. She draws the smoke deep into her lungs. She knows he is watching. He always is. She holds the orange tip before her, the smoke billowing slowly from her nostrils.

And she waits and she wonders. She hopes and she hates; her heart rattles and flutters; she feels dread and also desperation. She feels a skin-crawling loathing, needing to flee. But she is tied; tied by want, tied by need.

Awaiting the call.

Fear has become her natural habitat; it is in the very air she breathes. What lies before her is the unknown. The unknown she is forced into night after night after night. This is her life now. She is property, his property.  Their property.

Nothing more. Just the blank canvas, the mound of unformed clay.

Waiting.

The very first call was exactly a week earlier. A week ago in another life. She was still Jilly St James then. Still in control. Neither of them had entered her life yet.

***

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A Bitch Twice Over on Amazon

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Russell and his young wife have a special relationship; they spice up their marriage by playing a daring and ultimately dangerous sexual game. Toni loves to tease other men and Russell gets his kicks watching her do it. It was always harmless fun, for their own entertainment and their discussion of the events afterwards always led them to their shared, increasingly deviant sexual pleasures…

But things take a turn for the even more extreme when they visit Toni’s teenage sister for the weekend, who is working as a chalet girl in the mountains of Italy. There they meet Bruno, a young amorous ski instructor who is to be their guide and Toni, being the tease she is, decides to play her little game with him with her husband’s full, confident, excited consent.

But this time, things are not as they were, events conspire to change everything and their cosy marriage and sexual relationship are strained to the limit! Unfortunately Toni’s virginal, innocent sister Becky is also affected by the indiscretions and soon debasement and debauchery is inescapable for them all!

Another wonderfully twisted tale from bestselling Tiggy Mills! A story of how a small family, that seemed so stable and well established is somehow lewdly dirtily and perversely undermined and changed forever. Sometimes for everything to turn head over heels and begin its’ slide inexorably downhill, to sexual humiliation and degradation, all it takes is a small mistake and…a little push!

EXTRACT:

Toni, my new young wife, and I had always loved skiing and I was especially looking forward to the white icy slopes, as it was a few years since I had been adventuring in the mountains, but had always been somewhat proficient at the sport.

I sounded like an old man although in truth I was only 24 but somehow marriage had a way of changing you.

My wife was a just 21, was a female knockout and sometimes keeping up with her was a test of my stamina and patience.

She was very demanding and no doubt this Arctic adventure would be on full throttle as always.

I had put on a little weight since we were wed and had to buy a new enlarged ski suit for this trip but she of course could still fit into the one she wore when she had been a teenager.

My wife was still feminine physical perfection!

We had no children, although we had spoken about taking the step, but Toni was not ready for little ones as yet.

She was obviously excited to see her pretty sister as the taxi drove up outside the doll like, snow covered house and she alighted energetically.

Becky came running out to us, dressed in a sweater and tight black ski pants and I noticed that she had lost weight from the chubby girl that had I had seen just a few months previously.

Her hair was still dark brunette and curly though, and her face still a little rounded, but her brown eyes sparkled with the same colour and elixir of life as her sister.

We all embraced warmly and after unpacking in the small bedroom we were treated by the newly domesticated girl to a delicious, simple meal, with an acceptable bottle of the local red wine and we all settled back and began to relax.

The sisters were easy and natural with each other as they always had been but in truth I never really liked Becky, she was always too close to Toni for my comfort and sometimes I felt outside their private sibling world.

They used to hang around together going out as they were growing up and there were often some wild stories about them, especially my wife.

I never asked Toni, we were married now and any mistaken promiscuity she had was far behind us and I knew about most of it anyway.

It was unimportant and a thing of the long forgotten distant past.

Becky told us that she had arranged for us to be guided around the mountain by a boy she had become friendly with and we were going down to the bar to meet him shortly.

She was going to introduce us to him and, as she described them, the motley crew she hung out with!

Toni and I went into our room, my wife removed her travelling clothes, went into the small functional shower and I quickly tidied up for her, hung up what was clean and placed the underwear and any dirty items for me to wash later.

She came out, and after quickly drying herself, pulled a black cotton thong and a chiffon bra around her, then a skin-tight pair of black trousers and a grey roll top sweater that hugged her large, shapely breasts.

To see her naked or getting herself dressed was a never ending source of pleasure and wonder for me and the fascination with her delightful body never dimmed.

Her figure was divine and perfect as it always had been from the very first time I had set eyes on her.

I could now see every curve of her bottom and thighs, as the flexible clothing clung to her tightly and provocatively, highlighting her ass and sexual mound that centred her thighs so exquisitely.

She was undoubtedly gorgeous and I was always thrilled that it was only me that now knew the hidden wonders beneath her enticing, feminine coverings.

She smiled at me admiring her so obviously, and asked a rhetorical question in her soft velvety tone.

“What do you think sweetheart?”

She was truly spectacular, as always, but she constantly loved my adulation, confirmation and reassurance.

“Just, gorgeous, darling… as you know.”

She laughed, twirled then admired herself as she span in front of the inadequate, narrow, vertical mirror on the inside of one of the cupboards.

She exhaled in satisfaction at her reflection and laughed softly.

“Not bad, for an old woman. Hey?”

I shared the joke, she was 21!

We went out to meet Becky who had somehow squeezed into a small pair of jeans and a tight, cashmere, white top that highlighted her ample bosom and bottom and I whistled lowly in disapproval and brotherly concern for her.

“Becky that’s too sexy for you!”

She laughed at my prudishness!

“What about Toni? She looks… dirty as normal…look how snug her trousers are…tell, her…if you’re so worried!”

I stared at my wife for support but she just berated me coolly.

“Nonsense Russell…she looks lovely…just maturing now like me, as a sexy young girl…apologise to her…immediately!”

My wife was sometimes firm with me and I listened to her stern rebuke and responded accordingly.

“Sorry Becky…you do look nice but…so grown up like your sister.”

She smiled and admired herself in the mirror as her Toni had done.

“I am grown up Russell…I never was so innocent and I’m not a baby any more…if I ever was?”

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Marriage on the SLIDE on AMAZON

The post Marriage on the Slide appeared first on TANTALUS-PRESS.

She’d been hard-working and now, as she reached the tipping point of middle-age, she suddenly had nothing.

Her daughter Isabella was at university, leading a full educational and sexual life, a life that made Evelyn irrationally confused and envious and now her husband was off with some juvenile, stupid bimbo!

At 40, she didn’t feel needed or wanted or sexual at all; she just felt lost!

But sometimes the hour of greatest darkness comes just before the dawn and a new sexual day and adventure was arising for her, all she needed to do was reach bottom and suddenly there was only one way to go. Could she let go of her sexual repression and deep set childhood morality that seemed no longer relevant in this strange new modern world. Did she have the courage to grasp the raw, physical, nettle of life?

All she needed was to take that first step, that first venture into a new dark sexuality and sensuality that would take her permanently away from the tepid shore of existence she had lived on for so long.

This is an unforgettable debut novel from new author Emilia Blythe that finally lays bare the truth about a mature, but somehow naïve and inexperienced woman, coming to terms with getting, just that bit older, and rectifying her mistakes whilst she still could.  The story is insightful and poignant and shows what can be achieved when events and circumstances force a woman to look at herself and make changes, decisions and sexual choices that seemed but a fantasy just a short while before. Sometimes, success and personal development is driven by nothing more than necessity and survival.

An emotional tale bristling with debased sexual discovery, energy and realisation that will make you believe that the old wives tale of a sexual peak at 40 and beyond, for a woman, is in fact…definitely true!

EXTRACT:

I was still pretty, shiny dark hair, with good skin and bone structure but the lines and the tired grey and green eyes showed that recent life had not been kind.

Charles left me about three years ago; we hadn’t been happy for a long time, if we ever had? But it still came out of the blue.

He told me he needed a break, some space, a little time but it was lies; he went straight to his young mistress who welcomed him and his cheque book with open arms, and open legs probably!

Was I bitter?

I suppose I was!

Not for the loss of Charles, although the new loneliness and solitude didn’t much suit me; nor the love that had disappeared long ago, or even the irregular and laborious sex some time before that!

If I could remember that far back; the copulation and intimacy was pretty awful even when it had been at its’ best!

But I was bitter for my loss.

My loss of my life that was!

It seemed to have drifted by me as if I had been a spectator.

My only speck of comfort was my dear sweet daughter Isabella, who I loved and adored.

Thankfully she had been a grown up 17 year old when her father and I were divorced and now she was 20, at university studying law.

She was now fully confidently independent and no longer in need of her mummy anymore.

At least when she was young and needy I felt there was a purpose to my life and I strangely missed her reliance and dependence on me but, those Halcyon days were passed and now there was only me to think about.

The sad truth was that no-one needed me anymore!

I looked at myself again, at my lined face and tight eyes and thought that I seemed so fatigued and lacking in energy.

I turned to the side to see if my figure was still svelte, and it was, but I held my large breasts and they were saggier than I recalled and it only reinforced my lack of confidence in my appearance.

I sat and made some tea and just decided that my life depressed me!

All I had to show for my 40 years was my small two-bedroom flat at the side of the park; Charles had hidden all his money in the wrangle of the divorce, as he had his own business and was something of a charlatan!

I knew from hard experience that my ex-husband was a selfish bastard!

I could say, as all men were but the truth was I had little experience to know such a thing.

I had boyfriends before Charles and was much sought after when I had been younger but my husband was the first real man that I had physical relations with and somehow, back in those innocent days, I had been brought up to believe that once you had sex with a man, then you were married.

And we soon were wed; I was a mere slip of a girl at 21, with Isabella growing inside me, and just a few weeks after qualifying in accountancy from university, my life seemed to be set out and completed before it had hardly started.

I knew it was my own fault, it was somehow all of my own choices, but why was I in such a moronic rush to be settled and have a family?

It was a lot to do with my own mother, my upbringing; always being taught to do the right thing, be nice and moral and kind and… frightened?

Was I frightened of life?

I suppose I was and always had been and look where playing it safe had got me?

I was proverbially up the creek without a paddle.

I was old, poor and had virtually the same job with the multinational financial firm I had joined just after Isabella had been born.

I had received zero settlement from my former husband, other than a deposit for the flat, and seemed to now just scrape by financially from week to week

The company I worked for were nice enough, they had always held my position open for me while I had to work part time throughout my daughter’s childhood.

But the sacrifices I made meant the promotions and elevations were for less qualified, able and deserving others, mainly men that didn’t have to carry the burden of a vagina around with them!

It seemed that to get on in life you needed to have a dick!

I sipped my tea and felt myself pulsing in anger at the sheer hopelessness of it all, life was so unfair, especially to me!

The one small ray of comfort was that Isabella was coming home this evening to stay overnight with me and I was looking forward to seeing her pretty face and listening to her outlandish tales from university.

My daughter was not like me at all!

She was wild, courageous, clever and adventurous and seemed to take life head on at all times.

She would tell me intimately about boys she was involved with and it constantly shocked me that she appeared to be so sexually daring and promiscuous and unashamedly proud to be so!

*

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My Sexual Peak On Amazon

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Extract:

Joe Hampton was anxious and excited as he stood waiting for the horses to cool; he looked around the exquisite stable yard with schoolboy fascination and wonder and felt privileged to know he was going to play a part it its’ running.

Joe was just 18, tall and broad with strong shoulders and arms from working and labouring all his young life.

His physical attributes made him well suited to his new appointment as junior groom at Crossway Manor and his soft brown eyes always sparkled and glistened full with life and enthusiasm.

Joe was a country boy, all his life he had lived in Hadleigh Village nearby to the great manor and lands that always seemed to be the very social hub and centre of the local affairs and community.

Master Brigham was head of the house, master of the local hunt and was feared and respected in equal order by all around him.

Joe was thrilled to have been offered a position on the estate and he knew his 6-foot stature and gentle nature helped him gain the treasured post of looking after and attending to the thoroughbred horses stabled there.

Joe, underneath his normal dirt and grime, also possessed a certain boyish charm and good looks and his long fair hair invariably, languidly flopped over his youthful clear unblemished features.

Everyone liked Joe; it was what the senior groom, who had employed him, admired most about the young man.

Joe was at peace with the world and in an uncomplicated simple way just wanted to take his small insignificant part within it.

Joe lingered for a second inside Prince’s stable.

The magnificent champion stallion turned and looked at him curiously with his large bulbous expressive earthy eyes and Joe patted his smooth white coat and continued rubbing him down.

He truly loved horses and admired the splendour of such a strong, proud muscular distinguished animal; this was not work to him, it was a privilege and a pleasure, and something to be cherished.

This horse, as with Beauty, an exquisite black stallion in the next stable along, with a white flash on his nose, were the pick of the crop of equine excellence.

They belonged to the Master’s daughters, Verity and Suzanne and Joe’s primary job was to now keep these wonderful beasts in pristine condition.

The girls were twins, just a few weeks younger than him-self but they were from a different class and were gentile, refined, ladies in every way.

They were well educated, both very beautiful and cultured, were clearly from a different stock to Joe’s humble origins, and he was immensely proud and honoured to be able to serve them both.

They rode every morning at 8a.m precisely and Joe had to ensure that these horses were immaculately prepared and saddled for their early sortie.

The young man glanced at the clock, it was 7.55a.m and he led the 2 snorting stallions into the courtyard and waited patiently until he saw the two girls walking purposefully down the gravel path from the grand manor house in the distance.

Joe had seen the girls occasionally over the years, fleetingly in the village or out riding and he had always felt inadequate in their presence and greatly in awe of them.

Their heads and noses were always in the air and Joe felt the enormous gulf of breeding and money between him and the delectable ladies.

As they came closer he could not help but admire the way they were dressed, their black boots shined, their black jackets were impeccably clean and their beige jodhpurs were skin tight on their hips and thighs.

Joe tried not to notice how the trousers accentuated their exceptional figures and seemed to cling to their perfectly rounded bottoms and anxiously, he looked Miss Verity directly in her clear blue eyes as she approached him.

He murmured quietly and respectfully to her, wishing to make the best impression that he could.

“The horses are ready Miss.”

The girl looked at him then at the admirable animals and she threw her curly long blonde hair back and bunched it into the black hard hat until it was wedged tightly on her pretty head.

She then perused Joe up and down alone and directly, as if she was examining one of the horses.

“Who are you?” she queried, “and have you brushed Prince correctly?”

She walked around the white horse and slapped its rump gently but sharply, examining the stallion’s coat and sheen in minute detail.

The young boy replied eagerly and earnestly but with great pride.

“Yes Miss, this is my first day Miss, I’ve been made junior groom…my name is Joe Miss….I’m pleased to meet you.”

Suzanne appeared before him; she was also beautiful with the identical physical attributes, as her sister with the only difference being her hair was straight, shining like flowing mountain water, and jet black.

She spoke to him in a short clipped condescending tone.

“Have you now?  Well done Joe, that’s excellent for you.”

She smiled at him, pleased that the large, servile ignorant young man could not detect her sarcasm.

She inspected, with equal attention as her sister, Prince and Joe was unsure whether his preparatory work on the immaculate beast was sufficient to meet her exacting standards.

He just stood and listened nervously as she addressed him.

“Well just you be sure you have our horses saddled and ready every morning… wind or rain, do you understand Joe?”

He blinked as if pleased he had been, in some way, accepted.

“Yes Miss.”

He had replied quietly and deferentially brushing back his dark blonde hair and trying not to look too deeply into the girl’s gleaming hazel eyes, framed by her long black eyelashes.

Both girls giggled, much to the young groom’s embarrassment, and Verity athletically and expertly pulled herself up onto the steed and sat astride the thoroughbred readying herself with the rough leather reins.

Beauty was a few hands higher than Prince and Suzanne beckoned Joe over to her with a twist of her index finger and commanded him haughtily.

“Help me up…what do I call you again?”

The young man jumped promptly to attention and ran to her.

“Joe, Miss,”

He stood patiently behind her awaiting further instruction as she played with her black crop.

Joe could smell her perfume and he watched, as the girl put one foot in the stirrups and began to pull herself up onto the small brown saddle.

“Push me up then Joe,” she instructed sternly.

Taken for a Ride on AMAZON

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Jeff Grant was alone. His relationship with Clare was over and he just couldn’t come to terms with it. All he knew for sure was it had something to do with Helen Jones, a sexual and relationship specialist that Clare had been seeing. Before leaving Clare told him to go and see Helen about his problems. She insisted that Helen could help…

What was clear to Jeff was that this woman had ruined what he had with Clare and so he rang intending to give her a piece of his mind.

It was a phone call which changed his life; changed his very self.

Right from the start Helen seemed to know him better than he knew himself, seeing deeply into his inner core. And so begins his tortuous descent into submission and servitude. A journey that would change him and mark him forever.

Helen, Jo- her daughter – and Clare his ex-fiancée, all play crucial parts in his slide into total acceptance of who he is and his new life of humiliation, degradation and ultimate submission.

An absorbing story told with honesty, frankness and a compelling sense of reality.

Word count: 27,398

EXTRACT:

I felt so helpless. The house was empty and all I had left of my relationship with Clare was a short scribbled note. It told me to leave her alone and I should go to counselling with the woman on the card enclosed.

It was someone called Helen Jones with the title of sexual therapist under her name and an address that was local to where I lived.

I looked at the name, Helen; she was seemingly the woman that had been influencing Clare for many months. My anger burned when I looked at the card.

I thought of how it had all come to this. Clare and I had been so much in love! Together at college and then in the small house where we became engaged and set to be married in a year’s time.

As for now I was unclear? I wasn’t sure what transpired but suddenly what we shared was insufficient for her and she wanted to be set free and to go out and on without me.

I had tried to give her space but it was hard to ignore the changes that took place in her. Lipstick became brighter, her skirts shorter and her drawers became full of the best underwear and lingerie.

I would secretly watch her dress trying not to notice how the underwear fitted her so snugly and was always framed by nylons and garters.  Her antics drove me crazy and I did things that were unworthy of me and even followed her on many occasions where she would go dancing or increasingly, enjoying the company of a man.

I confronted her more than once when she was dining and she would tell me to leave in the strongest terms. I tried to let her have her space but I was driven to know what was going on and eventually she obtained a restraining order against me which kept my access to her outside the house to over 300 metres. Inside our home I was always calm and docile with her as I had always been.

We had already moved into separate rooms and only finance kept us together in the property, which had been sold that week. It had been a traumatic time for me and as I gazed around the barren rooms as I collected the remainder of my stuff I felt lower than at any time in my life.

Clare was gone and I had to accept it and move on. It was easy to say but I knew the past held me captive and I had rented a flat for a couple of months to decide what I needed to do. I had a job and a little money but no direction at all.

I moved into the apartment and sat night after night watching the television and wondering about Clare. I missed her terribly and had dark thoughts that I pushed to the very deepest recesses of my mind. I realised I was obsessing and after yet another night of restless sleep I was eventually looking again at the card that Clare had left for me.

Helen Jones… Sexual Therapist…Relationship Expert.

Just reading her name sent my temperature high and set my anger to explosive.

Relationship Specialist indeed! I wanted to give her a real piece of my mind; she’d ruined my relationship!

I picked up my mobile and dialled the number and to my surprise it was answered on the second ring. A crisp clear voice spoke.

“Hello this is Helen Jones.”

“Is it?” I blustered.

“It is…who am I speaking to?”

“Jeff Grant…you know…”

“Yes of course Clare’s friend.”

“Ex friend.”

“That’s not true Jeff…Clare’s still your friend but…but now she has some new friends.”

“That are fucking her!”

I didn’t know why I said that.

“That is true Jeff…does that bother you?”

I went quiet.

“Of course it does another man is fucking your little Clare and how does it make you feel?”

I could not speak.

“Your quiet Jeff are you erect thinking about it?”

I was.

“You need some therapy Jeff…ring me when you want to confront it…and don’t masturbate.”

“I don’t!”

“You’re in denial Jeff.”

“Fuck off!”

I raged and the phone went silent for a second.

“That will cost you young man I was going to give you your first session free…now you will pay…and”

“And what?”

“You will have to beg me to see you and tell you about Clare.”

“Fuck you I’ll never beg you…Fuck you!”

I turned the phone off and felt myself shaking in fury. The nerve of her! Telling me about Clare and about me!

How did she know about me? What else did she know? No one had spoken to me like that and it sent my mind into meltdown.

All I could think about was Clare and her fucking and in spite of what Helen said I masturbated furiously to sordid visions that swam in my subconscious like evil monsters from the depth of my filthy mind.

I tried to ignore her and forget what she said but it was less than a week before I realised that I had to speak to her again.

I was sure if I could talk to her, then perhaps I could get things straight in my head. I phoned her early one evening and as previously it was answered on the second ring.

“Helen Jones…hello Jeff.”

She recognised my number.

“Hello Helen.”

“Don’t call me Helen, Jeff…call me Miss Jones…you’re not my friend.”

I felt myself shivering…I was so unnerved.

“Yes Miss Jones…I’m sorry for what I said.

“You mean telling me to fuck off…when I was telling you the truth.”

“Yes Miss Jones.”

“Have you masturbated Jeff?”

I went quiet.

“Obviously you have… you’re a silly little boy…aren’t you?”

She was belittling me but all I heard myself say was.

“Yes Miss Jones.”

***

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EXTRACT:

I looked across the bar, at all the red angry faces. Many of them had been drinking all day. But this is what they had come for. This is what they had come to see; a miner’s wife forced to take her top off for the enemy. A wife forced to degrade herself to feed her family. That Inspector’s voice rang in my head, his words harsh but not without truth; ‘we’re the fucking Masters now.’

I looked at them and wondered how we had all come to this. Was it for this that we had worked and struggled all our lives, to be driven to this kind of desperation? I left the bar and moved into the back. The pub doors were locked, it was nearly midnight. I could hear them singing that ‘get your tits out’ song.

I looked at Jimmy; he didn’t like it any more than I did. I was embarrassed that a friend should have to see me doing this.  To give him his due, he looked away while I removed my top and bra. Phil, my husband, just thought I was doing my usual bar job with a bit of after-hours overtime. He’d go insane if he knew. But I couldn’t think of him right then. Too upsetting. I listened to them singing. It was getting louder. Some were starting to chant. ‘Tits out, tits out, tits out…’

Jimmy whispers, ‘Best get in there Ruthie, don’t worry pet.’ He gave me a tight little smile. He hated this, but the police have him over a barrel as well . I took a deep breath and walked into the light.

I felt like I was trapped in a zoo, with all the animals on the outside looking in.

***

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David was on the very edge of success; so close to an astounding breakthrough, the manipulation of the X-Chromosome; a discovery which could bring untold benefits to humankind. Everything was in place, the work had been done. He was almost ready to present his remarkable discovery to the world. He just needed to test it, to make sure that it worked

It should have been a simple, safe experiment, but experiments can – and do – go wrong. And wrong in this case means hitherto unimagined consequences. David had always been an Alpha-male – fully in control of his own life and destiny. Now he has to face the realities and humiliations of a new kind of life, a life in a female role and persona, he has to quickly adapt to and experience life as a teenage female and beyond…

His wife wants to help but only on HER terms. David has to accept the inevitable and so the story unfolds…

A sexual, physical and emotional journey that will humiliate educate and enrich him beyond his wildest imagination.

Word Count: 26,951

EXTRACT:

I was so close. I had spent the last few years trying to separate the male and female proteins in the DNA and now I had a mixture I was sure could work. I had experimented on mice and rats swapping the male and female DNA and had noticed marked changes both physically and behaviorally. The particle accelerator was essential to bind the process and I worked excitedly at the prospect of proving my theory. I had set out to understand why, with male and female DNA being so similar, the male and female of the species were so different. Privately I had always been fascinated by women they were wonderful creatures and it was my life’s work to understand them and both sexes in general. Once I cut through the helix and the proteins then it would not take much to balance behaviour out by adding a few male or female proteins. It could change behaviour, as we knew it, and the possibilities for use were endless.

It was late and I was tired and I re-checked my formula, I had loaded it with fresh female proteins from a young girl who had just died in a car accident. It may have seemed immoral but for the experiment to work it needed an outside donor for the extra DNA  - male or female – and a friend at the morgue had helped me.  Time was of the essence as each minute decreased the intensity of the proteins and I loaded the needle and pressed the injection deep into my vein. The small video camera recorded the moment and I quickly entered the small chamber that was the particle accelerator and set the dosage of acceleration. The door closed and the machine buzzed with electricity and I cried in pain as the rush of charge knocked me senseless.

When I awoke it was pitch black, the lights were off as I must have fused the power and I felt strange and giddy, completely disoriented. My clothes seemed to hang off me and I realised I needed to get home.

I found my keys tried to clear my head and rushed to my car. It was obviously very late as the roads were quiet and dark and I was relieved to see my house and pulled into the drive.

I was still close to passing out and I pressed the bell and listened as my wife came down the stairs and opened the door. She was tall with short dark hair and was dressed in a short white dressing gown; she looked at me curiously.

“Yes?”

“It’s me.”

“Who?”

“Me… David…your husband, don’t play games I’m not well.”

“Who?”

“Fiona it’s me…let me in.”

She looked me up and down and smiled.

“Hang on a second.”

She returned with a vanity mirror and turned it towards me. I looked at my reflection. It was the face of a young teenage girl, long brunette hair, brown eyes and thick lips. I looked again and in shock I collapsed onto the floor. Fiona picked me up easily and held me by the shoulders.

“What’s my middle name?”

“Deborah.”

“When did we last have sex?”

“About six weeks ago.”

“It was seven actually…David… and it was crap by the way…come in… you do look nice.”

She lay me on the couch and gave me a sip of whisky. She slowly removed my white coat and suit, until I was naked. I tried to cover myself but she removed my hands and whistled admiringly.

“You are a beautiful young girl… about 18 I’d say…what a lovely little pussy you have as well dear.”

My hand covered my crotch but she just smiled.

“The experiment worked better than you thought David!”

“I don’t know what went wrong…”

“Seems like you got it right darling…you did say you wanted to understand women.”

I mumbled incoherently.

“I need to get back to the lab…”

“Of course…I’ll drive you but go and have a bath first…try to relax.”

She ran the water and I quickly splashed inside, ignoring my reflection in the various mirrors. The water was soothing and I just lay there trying to ignore the small breasts on my chest and not daring to look and the soft fold between my thighs. I shut my eyes and tried to pretend it was all a dream.

“Come on lazy…I’ve laid some clothes on the bed in the spare room…get dressed.”

I draped a towel around me and entered the room. The clothes waiting for me were a small pair of white panties, a grey skirt and a white top.

“I can’t wear this.”

“David you’re a young girl…I’ve borrowed some of Diana’s clothes…now get dressed and we’ll go.”

“I can’t wear this!” I said stamping my foot theatrically.

“Fine we’ll stay here.”

I realised how stupid I was being and eventually pulled on the underwear until they were snug around my crotch. I felt my body pulse but ignored the sensation and struggled to clip the skirt into place. Fiona helped me and I placed the top over my head and slipped on some trainers. I looked into the mirror and I was shocked at how attractive I was, I was a pretty, sexy teenage girl!

***

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EXTRACT:

I noticed it very early on in my life that I liked control, to be the person fully in charge!

I remember even when I was a sweet, innocent, little girl, only about 6 years of age, and a pretty boy from my kindergarten with long curly bright blonde hair, had brought some chocolate biscuits in for himself at school.

I had him offering them to me in minutes, with just a smile, or a feint or a little feminine persuasion.

And so it went on, as I matured, the power I had over boys increased as the pleasure it gave me did, and by the time I was 18, I was somehow very different from my peers and the other ordinary young women of my tender years.

I didn’t want to be so unusual but it was who I was and what I was becoming, as if my true nature and sexual proclivity was somehow a force beyond my control.

I was pretty, some say beautiful, clever, empowered and always dealt with boys on my own special, personal terms.

I had long shiny blonde hair, a slight figure with small pert breasts, small pink nipples and pale, blue green eyes that seemed to have a lustre and power that the opposite gender found irresistible.

I was no virgin and had sex, when I wanted and needed it, but control was my real and true aphrodisiac and the physicality of the actual base primeval act, to me, was transient entertainment, and there was never any true passion or emotion in the deed.

The mental side of a relationship was where my real pleasure lay and it was far more interesting and rewarding for me.

I would spend hours reading about domination and submission and I found the power that a woman could exert over a man just through her body and will was the most fascinating thing possible.

I was still fairly inexperienced and naïve in the practical implications of my fetish but I was always aware, and knew what I wanted.

I suppose I was just educating myself, biding my time and waiting for life to play its’ hand.

That’s how I hooked up with Charles, Charlie to his friends.

He was one of my classmates at my college and pestered me to go out with him and I wouldn’t because I was seeing one of the guys from the football team.

But he persisted and in the end I let him take me for a casual quick drink at the local pub round the corner from the campus.

He was so weak and submissive with me immediately and, unfortunately for him, it brought out the very best and worst traits in my character and personality.

As I explained, I had experimented with some minor intimacies with dominating various boys but I had never actually had a real live boy in my full service and control, but always craved to have one!

But Charlie was just an ideal candidate, and from the first few seconds with him I found the allure of controlling him immediately, irresistible!

He was so meek and docile; just begged me to let him be my boyfriend and seemed accepting that I was fucking another student even when, unconcerned for his feelings, I told him straightforwardly that I was!

He was perfect for me!

I didn’t agree straight away as I was still unsure and lacked a little confidence to actually go through with my fantasies and fetishes, but I agreed to meet him occasionally and sporadically over the next few weeks.

Each time we met he pleaded with me to accept him as my special friend and let him spend time with me.

In the end I explained to him, over a bottle of sour white wine in our pub, frankly, that I was an Alpha dominant girl with an inclination to be the controlling mistress in my world.

I further made clear that the only way I would accept him was if he became my little submissive, servile, masculine servant.

I didn’t hold back and informed him that if he wanted me to consider him as a temporary companion for me then he would need to become my slave, would have to swallow his pride and give his life to me, completely.

I expected him to refuse; I mean who would agree to such an outrageous, outlandish suggestion?

But to my amazement he didn’t at all, and seemed happy to be asked to prove his devotion to my deviant purpose and for me eventually to take my ultimate ownership of him.

This was intoxicating for me, like perverse, but divine, heavenly music to my delicate ears.

As I mentioned, I had experienced short intermittent service and devotion from boys previously but such direct and open commitment to my rule was an exciting new event and one that I had researched and prepared for, for so long.

To have such control over a real live male, in a mistress, servant relationship was a new thrilling adventure for me and it was a role that I felt was my destiny, and one I had wanted to explore properly for so long.

I didn’t fancy Charlie at all, he was ordinary; tall thin and unspectacular looking with long brown hair and pale grey eyes, but his subservient mind and the proposed devotion of his body, to me was extremely intoxicatingly appealing.

My approach to it all was cautious and I initially put him on little trials to see if he was serious in his commitment and intentions to me.

I was in no rush.

This was with him wearing my underwear or washing my clothes, anything menial and humiliating for him; but he was utterly compliant and completed each task I asked of him with enthusiasm and complete acquiescence.

In the end, after a few weeks, I was finally prepared to let him enter my service and to date me on the condition he wore a chastity device!

I had never placed a boy in a restrictive cage before; I had only read about it excessively and extensively but acted, to my prospective slave, as if I had vast experience in the constrictive practices of dealing with a male’s private bits.

I had a learnt a long time previous that you always had to embellish somewhat, to ultimately get what you wanted; and I did!

I told Charlie firmly, it was my price for sharing my precious, valuable, special time with him.

He seemed shocked at first but I insisted and he cautiously but fatefully agreed to my terms.

We apprehensively went to a secret, hidden sex shop I knew, in the quiet side of town, where I would often visit, to browse and instruct myself.

I always adored the variety of devices and toys inside and was ecstatic that suddenly I could now buy one for me to use, with a real specific purpose.

I knew that they all adjusted and that surprisingly, one size of male genitalia for any of the cages fitted all.

We chose and discussed together, looking through every type and colour, as if we were buying clothes or furniture and eventually decided on, and selected, a small penile holding device with a shiny silver cover and a matching lock.

We were both, happy, exited and enthusiastic with our purchase as we left through the drab black coloured door that masked the brightness and appeal for me, of what was contained behind it.

I took him quickly back to his room at his father’s house and I made him stand and strip naked in front of me…

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