I Need A Break...

So after giving it a lot of thought, I have decided I really needed a break. The past few months have been great, but I can only write so much before getting burnout and I feel like that is going to happen sooner rather than later if I keep this schedule up.

 

So I'm off for the summer. Once September hits, I'll be back with something hot and fresh for everyone, but until then, momma is going to take herself a little break.

 

I hope I'm not disappointing anyone but this really is for the best. Have a great summer everyone!

Kinkèmon!


I wanna nail the very best, like no one ever has!
To bang them is my real test, to ride them is my cause!

I will travel across the land, searching far and wide!
Each Kinkèmon to get inside and leave a cream surprise!

Kinkèmon, gotta fuck ‘em all!
Its you and me and your friend makes three!
Kinkèmon, oh, you’re my first choice on a lonely Friday night!
Kinkèmon, gotta bang them all!
My dick’s for you and I’m down for a screw!

You blow me and I’ll lick you!
Kinkèmon, gotta fuck them all!
Gotta fuck ‘em all!
Yeah!

Jack Spreadem quickly grabbed for the cliff edge, managing to snag it before falling a hundred feet onto the ground below. Sweat wept from his brow as he painstakingly hauled himself up the cliff face, driving himself to reach the top. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing alone: Angel’s Bow lagoon. Legend had it that this was one of the few places that the Aquaidens, a merfolk-type Kinkèmon, came to the surface and only a few times a year. The odds of actually finding the secluded stretch of beach were slim enough and on top of all that, the young man’s effort may have been completely in vain. 

Jack didn’t care about the odds or the painstaking journey or even the Aquaidens for that matter. Like all Kinkèmon trainers, Jack had a dream, a dream that would drive him to the far corners of the world, a dream that had consumed his heart and made it glow with passion, a dream that would take a lifetime to fulfill. He was after the Legendaries. 

 There were almost as many types of Kinkèmon as there were types of animals and they were spread out across the globe. Some of them were as common as dandelions and others were much more rare and even unique. These were the Legendaries. Even seeing one in the wild was considered a great feat or pure dumb luck. Jack wasn’t going to be satisfied with that though. He had been hearing stories about the Legendaries since he was a small boy. Their abilities were unmatched, their beauty was incomparable. He had to find them, he had to find them all. He had to fuck them. 

Jack kicked his leg over the ledge and hauled himself up. After climbing all morning, he had finally reached the summit. The young man took a quick breather, listening to the waves below him gently crashing into the rocks. A tired, contented smile blossomed across his face. He had found Angel’s Bow lagoon. Grabbing his binoculars out of his bag, Jack took a quick look around. 

Below him, the ocean flowed in through a series of small holes in the cliff face. No wonder this place was so hard to find, you would never be able to see it from the ocean side. The tiny, bow-shaped beach was sequestered amongst the cliffs, perfectly hidden from the outside world. No wonder the Aquaidens liked it so much. They could get a bit of sun without any real danger. There was a pod of female merfolk spread out amongst the surf and sand, lounging, eating and playing. The Aquaidens were known for their playful and friendly nature and Jack could see that as he spied on them. 

They splashed one another and played pranks and games, joyfully enjoying their holiday. Many of them were simply laying out in the sun, letting the sun toast their nude forms. From the waist up, they looked like svelte young woman. Their bellies, chests and faces were all alabaster while the rest of their skin was a rich sky blue. Their hair was a slightly darker shade of their blue skin and Jack knew from his research that their eye color varied across the spectrum. From the waist down they resembled fish. They had a long, sinuous tail that ended with a wide flat fin. Besides their beauty, the Aquaidens were known for their speed and dexterity in the water. That was why they were so difficult to interact with. You couldn’t catch up to them under the waves, you had to do it on land. 

Jack scanned the group of lithe, nude females, feeling unmoved. Yes they were beautiful, yes he craved them, but they weren’t what he was looking for. Then he finally spotted her. At the the end of the beach, atop a throne of stone and moss, lounged his heart’s desire, the ruler of the Aquaidens, the Aqueen herself. Only one in every hundred thousand Aquaidens would ever grow to become an Aqueen and one hadn’t been spotted in over a decade. That was until now. 

Jack’s heart hammered in his chest and he whooped victoriously to the sun and sky. He had done it! He had found her! All of his searching, all of his careful research, it all came to this. It had taken him a year— a YEAR— to even find out where Angel’s Bow lagoon may have been located but it had been worth it in the end. The Aqueen was here and she was beautiful. 

While she still possessed the pale bust and face, her blue skin had transformed into a purple so rich it looked almost black. Her tremendous locks were spread out behind her, emerald in the bright tropical sun. Where the Aquaidens were streamlined and lithe, the Aqueen was voluptuous and solid. Hers was the role of the caretaker and protector of her pod and it showed. She was nearly twice the height and size of her subjects and much more curvaceous. Her prominent bust bounced heavily as she readjusted herself, giving the excited young man a better view of her body. He felt himself growing harder as he watched her stretch languidly atop the rocks. She fanned out her tentacles before her, making sure none of them were touched by the shade. That was the other key characteristic of the Aqueen. When an Aquaiden grows into one, their tail splits and develops into a series squid like tentacles. They lose a good chunk of their speed, but they gain much more dexterity and fighting prowess. Jack had heard many stories of just what those tentacles were capable of and he wanted to see just how many of them were true. 

The young man smiled to himself and quickly tucked his binoculars safely back into his pack. His path was clear now. Their were only a few ways he could approach the Aquaidens without scaring them off or getting attacked and to do it, he was going to have to make a big “splash”. Quickly, Jack climbed down the lagoon side of the cliff until he found a nice, safe ledge. He leapt from it.

“Whoo-hoo!” he exclaimed, sailing through the air. Gracefully, he spun his body around and dove into the water, his body forming a perfect arrow. When he resurfaced, the Aquaidens looked surprised and dismayed and they quickly spoke amongst each other in quick, warbling coos. Jack paid them no mind and languidly paddled to the shore, just enjoying the water. The Kinkèmon watched him at first with trepidation, but then with curiosity. He wasn’t acting like a threat, so what was he doing there? His intentions were quickly made clear. 

Jack sauntered onto the beach, keeping his eye on the Aqueen herself. She was even more beautiful up close an Jack had to force himself to keep his cool. She watched him with a detached air, still having not decided if the young intruder was worth her time. Some of the braver Aquaidens began to form a loose circle around him, scrutinizing him while talking amongst themselves. The trainer knew what they were hoping for. Aquaidens came to the surface for one thing and one thing alone, they were in heat. Lucky for him, the males hadn’t arrived yet. Jack reached behind his back and produced a disk, quickly fling it into the air. 

“I choose you, Brodonis!” he cried. There was a flash of light and a new Kinkèmon appeared. 

Brodonis was a frat-type Kinkèmon and the first one that Jack had ever caught. While not very tall, a full foot shorter than Jack who himself wasn’t winning any height contests, he was riddled with muscle. His body was the definition of chiseled. His muscle definition was beyond anything a human male could hope for and he didn’t even have to work out all that much to maintain it. He looked almost human except for the lack of a neck and the extra broad chest. The Kinkèmon wasn’t nude. There was a small loin cloth wrapped around his waist, doing an abysmal job of covering up the creatures all ready hardening cock. When he appeared, the faint scent of Axe deodorant wafted through the air. 

The Aquidens all began talking excitedly amongst themselves and even their leader looked intrigued. Brodonis posed for them, speaking to them with his guttural whoops and grunts. The young merfolk all began to jostle for position, wanting to get closer to the new arrival while keeping their sisters away. While no two types spoke the same way, all Kinkèmon were able to understand one another and scientists couldn’t explain why. It was just one of the mysteries that surrounded these fabulous creatures and Jack couldn’t have cared less. He wanted to get the action started.  

“Brodonis, show these Aquaidens a good time!” Jack commanded. 

“Whoo!” Brodonis cried, grabbing the nearest Aquaiden and hoisting her up above his head. They both squealed with delight as Brodonis ran towards the center of the beach, right into the thick of the pod. He placed her down on the sand and tore away his loincloth, fully exposing his thick, veiny cock. The Aquaidens eyes lit up and she immediately swallowed it down, taking as much of it as she could. Brodonis grunted in satisfaction and reached down, grasping his lover’s perky breasts. He toyed with them playfully, rolling them in his hands and teasing the dark blue nipples. That was a move Jack had taught him. When he had first caught Brodonis, he had a pretty deep selfish streak and would never reciprocate during sex. This had left the both of them in some pretty embarrassing situations and Jack had made sure to train that right out of him. While Brodonis was still pretty self serving, he now made sure to give as well as he received. 

Jack watched his Kinkèmon got at it with a proud smirk then looked up at the Aqueen. She was watching the lewd display, looking unimpressed. She quickly turned her attention away, watching a gull glide through the air. Jack’s smile deepened. He had been hoping for a challenge. 

“Brodonis, use Spit Roast!” the trainer cried. 

“Whoo!” cried the creature and then he began to glow. There was another flash of light now there were two Brodoni (the plural of Brodonis) instead of one! They whooped excitedly and grabbed the Aquaiden, each taking a side. The original sank his meaty cock straight into her azure-shaded pussy while the newcomer enjoyed the feeling of the merwoman’s mouth. They held her in the air as they pumped in and out of her, perfectly synchronized. The Aquaiden grunted right along with the, going limp and letting the two males have their way with her. Even though her mouth was strained and her pussy looked like it was being overly stretched, the merwoman looked like she was having the time of her life. 

The other Aquaidens watched with avarice as the their pod mate was fucked with abandon. They had begun to touch themselves and each other and it wasn’t long before their soft sighs mingled with the sound of the waves. The Aqueen was watching the show once again with the same lofty air, but Jack could see how her eyes were glued to the spectacle and how her tentacles kept furling and unfurling. She might not have wanted to show it, but Jack knew she liked what she saw. 

“Brodonis, bring out the whole squad!” Jack thundered. The Brodoni glowed once again and split into four, then eight, then sixteen! By the time that they had finished, there were two dozen copies of Brodonis in the lagoon, the highest number he had ever been able to duplicate. The Aquaiden’s all squealed with and the two groups crashed into one another like opposing front lines. Grunts and cries filled the air. Flesh slapped against flesh. The Kinkèmon contorted themselves into any and all positions they could think of to accommodate their different body types and group numbers. The beach was covered in a seething mass of life, all touching, kissing and crying out in ecstasy. And in the middle of it was Jack Spreadem, Kinkèmon trainer, waiting patiently. The Aqueen beckoned him with a finger. 

The young man climbed the rocks and knelt before her, proud and humble. The Aqueen took his face in her hands and raised him up, kissing him when they’re eyes locked. Her lips were salty and sweet and about the most satisfying things that Jack had ever felt. The trainer let himself slip into the kiss, drowning out the rest of the world. Her tentacles snaked up his body and began to deftly unbutton and remove his clothes. He had never been stripped so fast, but Jack wasn’t complaining. He pressed his body into the Aqueens, letting her pillowy softness engulf him. She was over a head larger than him, but with the way they were embraced, she seemed gigantic in comparison. Jack was loving it. He melted against the beautiful creature, basking in his excitement and success. 

While they kissed the explored one another’s bodies. The Aqueen’s tentacles ran all over Jack’s nude form, exploring and investigating him. They were strong but gentle and their slick movements were both ticklish and arousing. His hardened cock was pressed between their bodies, begging for use. Jack wanted to slip it inside of the monolithic beauty as quickly as he could, but she was the one in control, not him. With her arms, she cradled the young man to her chest, allowing him the pleasure of her bountiful chest. With her tentacles, she spread his legs at the knees and took hold of his cock. 

Jack groaned in satisfaction as the slippery feelers wound around his cock, engulfing it in their grip. It was such a bizarre and gratifying sensation feeling them writhe and squeeze his most sensitive area. The merwoman seemed to be taking great pride in her work, making the trainer kiss her while he moaned with pleasure. Goosebumps ran up and down his skin. It was an amazing moment and it was only about to get better. 

The Aqueen pulled her feelers away as she lowered jack down between her tentacles. It was there that Jack finally discovered her pussy, wet, hot and ready. The Aqueen cooed to him, smiling sensuously as he worked in between her folds. Once he had slipped inside, the merwoman pulled him closer, burying him deep inside her.

“Holy shit!” he cried as his cock was suddenly engulfed; he almost came right then and there. The Aqueen winked mischievously, purring at him to continue. He smirked and pounded his cock into her, eliciting a cry of surprise. Now it was his turn to wink. He continued to thrust into her, and soon her look of expression of amusement became one of pleasure. The Aqueen hung her head back, panting, as the young man bored into her. Her tentacles wrapped around him, keeping him locked in place and only allowing his hips to move. That was fine by him, Her embrace was magical and so was the feeling of her sex. It was so slick and welcoming that the trainer had to fight in order from losing his himself and cumming too quickly. It was as much agony as it was ecstasy and he was loving every minute of it. 

Her breasts bounced heavily as he rocked ceaselessly, her song of pleasure was so much sweeter than her subjects. Jack could hardly believe it. He just watched in awe as one of the Legendaries, one of the great Kinkèmon, was in the throes of passion because of him. He had done. It had been a long and hard journey but he had done it and he couldn’t have been more delighted. The Aqueen still had one more surprise for him though.

Her cries grew shallower and more frantic and the pale skin of her body took on a pink hue. She was getting close, Jack couldn’t afford to cum just yet. Once she had orgasmed then he was in the clear, but if he came before her he knew there was no way she would allow him to continue. You don’t cum before royalty, its just bad etiquette. The young man worked his hips faster and faster while the Aqueen kept him pressed hard against her body. She didn’t know what to do with her hands and so Jack held them, squeezing them with excitement. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” she cried, looking like she was about to burst. 

“Yes, yes! That’s right! Who’s the Kinkèmon master, huh? Who?” Jack asked arrogantly. 

“Ah, ah!” 

“Yeah, that’s right. I am. I am!”

“Ah!”

“That’s right queenie, cum fo—” 

The Aqueen came, spraying Jack with hot, black ink. She writhed and shook as a nonstop torrent of dark liquid coated the young man from head to toe. It sprayed in every direction, staining him, herself and her seat of power. After what was either seconds or years, she was finally spent and she freed the Kinkèmon trainer as her tentacles fell limp. At some point in all of that, Jack came, more out of surprise than anything else. The Aqueen purred her thanks, embracing him once again. He had no idea what to do. 

At sunset, Jack finally left the tiny lagoon and his conquest behind. The Aquaidens had cleaned him up after everything had happened and once the shock had worn off, he had a good laugh about the whole thing. He had spent the rest of the day in the arms of the Aqueen, doing things he had never done before and will likely never do again. While the memories were still fresh in his mind, he knew that they would last forever. 

“Well that’s one down and so many more to go,” he said to the setting sun. “I wonder what my next adventure will be?”

Don’t we all Jack. Don’t we all.          

Lower Than A Slave Volume 2 Excerpt

Here's an interesting scene where Beverly, who has an aversion to kink, tries her hand at the whip with an attractive man trapped in the stocks. I chose this section of the story to show how her character is developing and to see what people thought of the direction of the scene. Let me know what you think.

Beverly stormed across the room until she found an unoccupied corner and dug herself in like a tick. She was furious. It may have been the other man that had dismissed her, but it was Hector’s complacency that really got under her skin. They were supposed to be searching for Hannah, not just him. That’s why she had come in the first place, that’s why she degraded herself in Sean Akron’s office. Hector may have been the professional, but Beverly wasn’t going to just be brushed aside like that anymore. When Hector got back, they were in for a serious talk.

As Beverly seethed, a small group of men made their way near her. They stopped a few feet away in front of a wooden stockade, completely ignoring her. One of the men took great pleasure in disrobing another down to his silken briefs. The sudden exposure of flesh snatched Beverly’s attention, drawing her out of her own thoughts. Both the semi-nude man and his partner were quite handsome and fit. Despite herself, Beverly followed the ripple of the man’s muscles as he was lead to the stocks and then sealed inside, unable to get away. The prisoner’s ass was facing her and every member of the crowd took a turn admiring and complimenting it. Even his lover gave it an affectionate little squeeze before producing a cat o’ nine tails from his belt. 

“Here we go again. More whips and chains and pain,” Beverly thought to herself, watching the man raise the whip. He brought it down, but it didn’t snap against his lover’s defenseless ass. There was barely any sound in fact except for the excited grunt of the bound man and the murmurs of approval of the audience. The whip holder brought the cat o nine down again, settling into a comfortable rhythm. The bound man groaned and writhed, but he didn’t sound like he was being tormented, far from it in fact. Beverly could see his cock steadily growing harder as the blows came down. Red stripes began to appear and multiply on the man’s toned flesh, but they didn’t look particularly painful. Beverly had gotten worse when she was spanked as a child. 

“This is… this is actually kind of hot…” she thought to herself, watching the prisoner writhe and grow more aroused. “But why though? Why?! Why do they do these kinds of things to themselves?!”

“Don’t look now James, but I think you’ve got yourself a voyeur,” said one of the men, nodding his head in Beverly’s direction. The young woman froze in place and her cheeks burned as she found a half dozen sets of eyes looking in her direction. 

“I— sorry! I didn’t mean to stare. I was, I—” Beverly blathered, unsure of what to say. 

“Its alright, watching is half the fun,” the man holding the whip said. 

“I’ll leave you all alone,” she offered, turning to leave.

“No, no. Stay, please. We won’t bite. Well Mark might, but he won’t be able to get a hold of you anytime soon,” the man said, spanking his prisoner. The man moaned gratefully. Unsure of what to do or say, Beverly took a few steps forward and suddenly she was part of the group. The men all introduced themselves and she gave them all her cover name before the show began again.

“So, Sara, is this your first event?” James asked, casting a look at her while he whipped his lover. 

“Umm, yes actually. Was it that obvious?” she responded, feeling her cheeks burn. 

“No, I’ve just never seen you around here before,” he said with a shrug.

“Duh, Beverly. Why don’t you make a few more obvious mistakes and tell him your real name and why you’re here next. Hell, maybe you should give him your social security number next,” she grumbled to herself. Getting noticed had set her even more on edge. When she was just a body in the corner there was some distance to all of this, now she was in the thick of it and she still didn’t understand it. In front of her was a man in his underwear trapped in a wooden stockade. Being stripped down like that had to be embarrassing and there was no way that the stockade was comfortable. It was just treated wood. No leather, no cushioning, just skin on hard surface and despite all that the man sounded like he was in heaven. He was hard even. 

Then Beverly took her eyes off of him and turned her attention to the other man, the one with the whip. The look on his face wasn’t quite so salacious, but he was every bit as aroused as the man prostrate before him. But there was control there as well. This man hadn’t given in to his desires so readily. He wasn’t flying off the handle and abusing his prone lover or forcing him to endure anything that he didn’t seem like he wanted, but there was still pain there. While the prisoner sounded happy, his moans were still cries of pain. He jumped every time the cat o nine connected with his flesh and his lover seemed to be enjoying his discomfort as much as his pleasure.

“I’m never going to get this,” Beverly thought. She looked up at the men surrounding her. They all had the same aroused gleam in there eyes. It was like she was completely invisible to them, their whole focus was on the show in front. No doubt they were hard as well, but Beverly was too shy and too thunderstruck to check. The last thing she wanted to think about was being surrounded by a group of horny men all with raging hard ons. Hopefully Hector was going to finish up soon, Beverly really wanted to get out of there. 

“You know what’s even more fun than watching, Sara?” James asked, giving his prisoner a quick break.   

“Huh?” Beverly asked, blindsided by the question. 

“Participating,” he smirked, offering her the whip. Beverly stared at it for a moment as the significance of his offer sank in. 

“Wait a minute. You want me to whip him?” she asked, dumbfounded. 

“Its only an offer. Since its your first party and all, why not do something special?” he asked, making it all sound so easy. 

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never, you know, whipped anyone before,” Beverly admitted, her eyes glued to the sex toy. 

“Don’t worry. Just go easy and you should be fine. Luther can take just about anything, isn’t that right, slut?” James asked, smacking his prisoner across the ass. 

“Damn right, you hit like a light weight,” Luther responded, goading his lover on. 

“You will regret that one,” James promised, smiling flirtatiously. 

“Why not? Maybe I’ll fine get all of this if I give it a shot,” Beverly thought, tentatively stepping forward. James smiled amiably at her and showed her how to properly hold the whip and strike correctly. Beverly’s first few strikes were weak and fearful, but with each sweet snap of leather on skin her courage grew. Soon she was whipping the imprisoned man with as much gusto as his lover. The men around her murmured their approval, complimenting the young woman on her technique and offering suggestions. Beverly didn’t hear any of it. Her total focus was on the man, the whip, and the storm of emotions  roiling inside of her. It felt good to strike out at something. It felt good to be able to finally do something, to cut loose a little and pour all of her emotions into something. It felt good to hurt this man, to make him suffer for being what he was, a pervert, a seducer, an enigma. Her role as a punisher didn’t bring her any clarity, it didn’t provide her with any great understanding or an epiphany, but it did give her something she craved: a target. 

Crack! 

“Mmm! This kitty sure does have claws!” the imprisoned man purred. “Too bad she can’t hit like a man.”

Crack!

 “Ooh! That one had some ‘oomph’,” he remarked, wagging his ass uncomfortably.

“A little lighter. I need him in good shape for the rest of the night,” James said. 

Crack!

“I think he’s had enough—”

CRACK! 

“Ah!”

“Give me the whip back!” James demanded, grabbing it as Beverly was raising it for another blow. Having it snatched away broke the spell and the young woman came slamming back into reality. The group of men were all giving her skeptical looks and James looked particularly upset. Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes and she blinked them away before she could become a huge sobbing mess in the middle of the room. 

“I’m— I’m sorry! I-I-I didn’t— I’m sorry!” she managed to choke out before fleeing back into the main crowd. The men watched her leave, curious to understand what they had just witnessed. 

Why Hucows?

Fetish Fascination is going to my look at the various fetishes I have encountered over the years. Each post will be an examination of what the fetish is, what it involves and how to enjoy it responsibly, based on what I know. There's so many ways that people have found to get off, I just have to add my two-cents to the pile. The first fetish I'm going to look at is one that is especially near and dear to me: hucows. 

When I first started writing erotica, I started out with a series called Public Displays of Attraction. It focused primarily on voyeurism and exhibitionism, but since it didn't do particularly well, I stopped working on it. I lost interest in it pretty quickly, but I hadn't lost interest in erotica. So I took a break from writing to do some hardcore research and outlining. That's when I stumbled upon hucows.

I had heard of the fetish before but had never really delved in it too deeply. There was a break down of it on the erotic authors subreddit awhile back and after seeing it there, I started to do my research. I liked what I found.

So for anyone who isn't aware of what hucows are, they are women (and the occasional man) that are treated and used like cattle. The women are typically submissive, are milked either by hand or with a milker of some kind and in a lot of erotica, used for breeding purposes. The few men who participate in the submissive end of this practice have their cocks milked like studs. On the other end of the spectrum, you have people who label themselves as farmers or owners. They're the hucow's partner or dom depending on their arrangement and typically they are the ones milking and breeding their lover.

I was inspired to write about this fetish no because I was necessarily turned on by it, but because I understood it. I could really see the appeal. For me, the fetish breaks down into three base parts: D/s, ANR and breeding.

In regards to D/s, you have a person who is taking on a specific submissive role, the role of human cattle, for the use of their partner. They are taken care of by their farmer, owner, etc. and in return provide them with milk and sexual gratification. From what I've read, a lot of hucow fantasies involve the idea of 24/7 immersion, as in the person taking on the hucow role will be like that for as long as they are able. They want an owner that will keep them and use them for as long as they can. In a lot of these fantasies or arrangements, the dom has total access to the hucow's body and can use them anytime they want. Typically bondage is involved in this scenario, especially when it comes to milking. Since cows are usually somewhat immobile while being milked, it only makes sense that a hucow should be as well. 

The next part of the recipe calls for milk. Lactation and ANR relationships play a significant role in the hucow fantasy. There are a lot of people that have fetishized a woman's ability to produce milk and have incorporated it into their kink life, with and without the rest of the hucow fetish practices. While ANR (Adult Nursing Relationships) can be practiced in a number of different ways, when it comes to hucows, many times the lactating women milks themselves with some type of a machine, be it a regular breast pump or sometimes a goat milker. As I stated before, sometimes their partner will milk them by hand or be in control of the machine, once again reaffirming the dominant role. The drive to do this can be so powerful for some women that they will induce lactation through suckling and hormones. This should only be done after talking to a medical professional about it before hand and I do not advocate inducing lactation until you know if its safe for you. 

Finally we come to breeding. I find the breeding fetish especially interesting because I don't really consider it a fetish at all. Yes, it has been fetishized because humanity can and has fetishized everything (the internet is a weird place), but I find it hard to classify our need to procreate a fetish. That's a topic for a different post though and I want to stay on track. While beloved for their submissiveness and their sweet, tasty milk, people desire and want to be hucows because of the breeding. The idea here isn't that they just want to be pregnant now, this is the more extreme version. For someone with a hucow fetish, they typically want to be a kept person who is attempting to breed and get pregnant as much as possible. Their doms naturally want to facilitate this and will typically breed them or have someone else do it, if that is their thing. While the practice of doing this is pretty rare, it does make for a potent fantasy and one that I have encountered amongst many hucow and breeding kinksters.

I think its obvious that I've put in my time when researching this fetish. Its mix of roleplay with D/s breeding elements really pulled me in and inspired my body of work. While I myself don't participate in the fetish (a bit too intense for my tastes), I do find it intriguing and it has inspired a wealth of stories. If you have any questions for me, feel free to leave them in the comments and I'll get to them as soon as I can. I should have a new excerpt up for everyone sometime in the next few days. 

Going Wide

Hello all you beautiful people,

Just giving everyone a quick update. My books are now available on Kobobooks as well as Smashwords and Amazon. From now on, my books will not be available on Kindle Unlimited. There is nothing wrong with the system, its just not for me. Lower Than a Slave Volume 2 should be out in early March so stay tuned for an Excerpt and a release date. I will post them as soon as I can.

Smashwords

Kobobooks

Amazon

Lower Than A Slave Part 1

Here is an excerpt from my newest series, Lower Than A Slave. It is the story of a young woman doing everything she can to find her friend that has gotten involved with a perverse group of breeders. It is my first mystery erotica and I hope everyone enjoys it. 

“No! No! I didn’t sign up for this! I didn’t sign up for this!”

Hannah West was being lead down a long, dimly lit hallway by three men. Where they were taking her she didn’t know, but why she was being taken there was all too obvious. There were three men in total. One in front of her, one behind, and one marching next to her with his hand clamped painfully around her bicep. They were all mountains of muscle that towered over the frightened young woman, making any thoughts of escape desperate fantasy. Their eyes gleamed with a feral hunger and their mouths were curled in wicked smiles. Hannah’s protests were clearing amusing them but failed to make them cease their inexorable march into the unknown.

Her bare feet slapped against the cold concrete floor, but the sound was lost amongst the heavy boot falls of her escorts. All she was wearing was a threadbare robe, one that barely covered her body from their prowling eyes. Hannah had to hold it closed. They hadn’t even given her a belt to tie around it. As they walked, they passed nothing. No doors, no windows, no details to tell her where she was. There was a door at the end of the hallway. That’s all she knew. What was on the other side of it was any body’s guess. The endless speculation was twisting her stomach in knots.   

“Now, now Hannah, we’re not doing anything that you didn’t already agree with. You read your breeding contract before you signed it, right? This was all right there, black and white. Its not our fault if you didn’t check the fine print,” The man grasping her arm explained, leering down at her. He had a good chuckle at her expense. 

“But… but… at the interview, you said—” Hannah stammered. 

“Laws are laws darlin’. This is all perfectly legal,” he declared, pulling to a stop. The man in front of her took the rusty key ring off of his belt. As he searched for the correct key, Hannah’s pulse sky rocketed. She shivered in place, too frightened to move or speak. The door opened, screeching on its rusty hinges and then she was pushed inside. 

The room was large, clammy and under lit. The floors were concrete, the walls were brick and the ceiling was cracking plaster. Like the hallway, there was nothing that told Hannah where she was, but off the purpose of the room there was no question. It was full of racks, tables, and cages all shoddily built in various shapes and sizes. There were more tools of pleasure and torment then there were shelves to hold them and Hannah could see plenty of shelves. Some of it she could identify or guess what it could do, but others seemed to have been the creations of some truly depraved minds and Hannah hoped that the men had no wish to use them. As she looked around the room, fear gripping more and more with each passing moment, she made an alarming discovery. 

“Where… where is the bed?” Hannah asked, her voice a petrified squeak.  

“Bed? You hear that boys? She thinks we’re going to use a bed!” laughed the man with the hold on her. The others joined in. It was a condescending and cruel sound. 

“I’ll show you what we have in store for you,” he hissed, dragging her forward. “Here you are.”

They had stopped in front of a bizarre contraption, one of the ones that Hannah didn’t understand. It was a series of pipes, all set laterally, held together by a metal frame. It would have almost looked like a piece of modern art if it wasn’t for the various ropes and straps hanging off of it. Hannah’s eyes widened as she finally guess its purpose and she looked up into the eyes of the man beside her imploringly. 

“No, no please! I can’t fit in that!” she cried. Too bad the man didn’t care. 

“You ain’t goin’ in there just yet, darlin’. First we got to get you ready,” he explained, whirling her around to face him and letting her go. Before she could speak, he grabbed the front of her rope and yanked it off her, leaving her naked and exposed. Hannah tried to cover herself up, but it was no use. She wrapped an arm around her chest, but her breasts were simply too large now to be covered. They had spliced her days ago and it seemed as if her breasts would not stop growing. They hung off the front of her like bloated sacks, heavy and engorged with milk. The men all licked their lips in anticipation as milk poured from her swollen nipples, streaming down her breasts and dripping onto the floor. 

Hannah was mortified. The look in the men’s eyes was the worst kind of depraved and she felt like a rabbit surrounded by a pack of wolves. No, not a rabbit. A cow. A weak, defenseless cow whose only purpose was to be physically exploited. There eyes trailed all over her body, sizing her up and taking delight in her curves and her anxiety.