Vote!

I want you to submit. But then, you knew that already, didn’t you?

But today I want you to submit your vote! Want to help choose the title for my novella? You can! See the little poll over there on the top right? Click on the title you find most alluring, sexy, the one that compels you to read! The poll will stay open till tomorrow at 6PM, eastern.

I guess you probably want to know what the story is about. Here’s an idea…

Imagine a man. Just a regular man. An average guy with a wife, a job, average house, average car, average clothes, average sex life… Well, not exactly. He does have one secret in that department. A deep, dark, awful secret. A secret he finds so embarrassing, so humiliating, so horrifying that he never talks to anyone about it, he barely acknowledges it himself. And then one day he meets her. And his life changes.

This is a story about perspective. It’s a story about the ephemeral nature of truth. It’s a story about what can happen when you give your power over to someone willingly, as a gift. And how it can change your life.

Oh, and I should probably mention there’s also a whole bunch of Femdom, tease and denial, erotic humiliation, foot fetish kink, spanking and other filthy depraved stuff.

So go ahead and vote! And as a thank you, when all this voting business is done, I will put up the next chapter so you can find out what poor little Lillianne is going through now, at the hands of that wicked doctor! ;)

Chapter 4

Phillip Samms and Ewan Draper had been friends since their time together as boys at Andover. Afterward, while Ewan was growing his entrepreneurial enterprises, particularly the mill, Phillip went on to study medicine at Harvard. If you could call what Phillip did studying. He was bright but easily distracted and he considered his studies more like a hobby, a sidebar to his real passion… which was women. Needless to say, anatomy class was the only one he never missed. He came from money and as long as the old man was continuing to subsidize Harvard’s growing campus, Phillip could hardly be thrown out. Ewan was not even sure if Phillip ever graduated.

After what Ewan saw late on his wedding night, he could not get his wanton new bride and her lascivious actions out of his head. He bid James ensure she did not leave the premises as he’d commanded and sought out Phillip for consultation.

‘I have heard of women such as this one,’ Phillip had said after Ewan recounted a detailed description of the night’s events. ‘You were right to consult me. It could be that she is in need of medical assistance, Ewan. She should be kept under close scrutiny.’ It was decided that Phillip would stay in the adjoining room in secrecy, so as to monitor Lillianne’s actions. If he suspected a repeat of what Ewan had witnessed he would summon him immediately. ‘In the meantime,’ Phillip said, ‘I will consult my medical journals and educate myself on this sort of behaviour.’ Unbeknownst to Lillianne, Ewan set up his friend in the guest room next to the master. The next night, when Phillip perceived soft sighs and stifled moans from the other side of the thin wall that separated them, he immediately summoned his friend. Ewan came at once, and so it was that the two men stood over Lillianne in the master bedroom at Draper Mansion.

For her part, Lillianne had at least kept the bedclothes covering her this time and the candle had not moved from the bedside. But there could be no mistaking the rapid movements under the covers that the two men perceived as they walked in.

‘Phillip, you see now with your own eyes!’ Ewan said, still incredulous himself as he tore back the covers to reveal the young woman’s hand rapidly retreating from its work between her legs. ‘Slut!’ he spat. ‘Whore!’

‘Now calm down, Ewan, until we see what we’re dealing with,’ Phillip said as his eyes roamed over Lillianne’s quivering body. ‘I’ll need to do a thorough examination.’ She feebly attempted to cover herself with her hands but Ewan grabbed them and, as he had previously, held them above her head so his colleague could perform his exam.

Phillip slid his hands over Lilly’s soft skin, studying her closely and measuring her every reaction. Her eyes appeared glazed with a far away look. When he drew his hand down her cheek and ran his fingers over her lips, she wet them with her tongue and parted them slightly. He traced her lips and then ran his fingertips along her neck and down between her swelling breasts. When he gently cupped them and lightly pinched her nipples the two men watched closely as she closed her eyes, sighed and pushed her pelvis up. Pinching the puckered flesh a little harder caused her to gasp and moan.

‘This will be the true test,’ Phillip murmured almost to himself as he slowly moved his hand down between Lillianne’s legs. Holding two fingers together and with his palm up, he slowly pushed inside of her dark canal. Sighing loudly, Lilly pushed herself down to meet him, until his fingers were completely enveloped within her flesh. Slowly Phillip retracted his fingers to reveal that they were covered with a slick, viscous wetness.

‘What is it, doctor?’ Ewan asked.

‘Seed,’ Phillip said quietly.

‘I don’t understand.’

Phillip cleared his throat. ‘Women of this nature have an abundance, an accumulation of fluid just as a man does.’

‘Of this nature?’ Ewan questioned.

‘Well, I can’t be sure yet. There is one last thing,’ Phillip mumbled as he carefully parted her labia and pubic hair to reveal her swollen clitoris. He bowed his head.

‘It is as I suspected,’ he said. ‘Nymphomania.’

With his finger still wet from her fluids, he began to stroke Lillianne’s turgid bud of flesh slowly up and down. She cried out and wriggled under his hand but Ewan still held fast to her wrists above her head.

‘As you and I know, normal women do not desire nor even need physical gratification the way a man does,’ Phillip explained as he continued stroking his patient. ‘Most women never think of such things and, in the case of married women, just tolerate their husbands’ advances in the course of their marital duties.’ He paused briefly as Lillianne’s cries were reaching a crescendo, waited a moment and then continued stroking more slowly. ‘A woman suffering from this affliction has a compulsive and irrepressible desire for intercourse with a man. Physically, even, she is different. Every woman has what is called a clitoris, a small collection of nerve endings normally hidden beneath what is known as the clitoral hood. In a case such as this one,’ and he stopped rubbing again, pulled Lilly’s legs farther apart and again spread her labia wide open with two fingers for his friend’s view, ‘you can see the clitoris is swollen, distended and discoloured from all the blood rushing to it, not unlike a small cock. If I rub gently here at the tip,’ and he began to move the pad of his wet finger in small, quick circles at the peak of her flesh producing ever more feverish cries, gasps and writhing, ‘you can see there is a significant reaction.’

‘Good God. It’s indecent! What can be done?’

Phillip removed his hands and took on a grave demeanour. ‘Ewan, there is no cure for this illness. Only maintenance. If someone does not assume her care she can be thrown into the asylum.’

Releasing his grasp on her wrists, Ewan stared into Lilly’s eyes. He could not allow the woman he had chosen as his bride to be locked up. The scandal! It would be worse than all of the stories of his philandering put together! She gasped, sobbed and clung to him and he shifted himself uncomfortably in his trousers, trying to hide the effect of Lillianne’s affliction on his body from his friend. Even as she sobbed into his chest, the wretched woman’s body still writhed, betraying her. Ewan pushed her back on to the bed.

‘What is the maintenance you speak of?’

Phillip turned his attention back to Lillianne, placing his fingers again on her wet and swollen clitoris. ‘Massage until hysterical paroxysm is reached cures the patient temporarily,’ he stated matter-of-factly as he rubbed in earnest this time. In no time Lilly began to gyrate her pelvis furiously against Phillip’s hand. Her cries were reaching a fevered pitch.

‘It’s abominable!’ Ewan puffed. ‘I can barely stand to watch.’ But his eyes remained glued to Lilly’s bucking body, her gaping hole. He had never seen a woman for this long from this angle, in this proximity. His own flesh was so stiff it ached and he surreptitiously attempted to rub himself through the coarse fabric of his trousers. The memory of Lilly’s slick, tight passage around his steel-like shaft maddened him and seeing her there, in front of him, his friend’s fingers working her hard as she writhed and cried out was more than he could bear.

In a flash he had shoved his friend aside and had his trousers around his knees.

‘No, Ewan! You mustn’t! Paroxysm must be brought about only by massage. Physical male contact of this nature will only serve to progress the madness further!’

Phillip’s protests were but background noise to Ewan. He no more could have stopped himself from sliding into Lilly than he could have stopped a train barreling down a track. He slammed himself in to his hilt and began sawing in and out. Just as before, Lilly’s tight sheath contracted around him and almost immediately began to spasm. She screamed and he pulled her to him almost violently. As at in the backroom of the mill, the spasms seemed to milk Ewan’s own orgasm from him, and he grunted loudly as his seed pumped out in long bursts into his wife’s body.

Power Play Review

Hello friends!

In the absence of an update on poor little Lillianne, check out my review of a much more talented writer than I, Charlotte Stein. Here are my thoughts on her amazing book Power Play...

There are so many things to like about Charlotte Stein’s novel, Power Play, I keep changing my mind about what I like most. It could be her mastery of language, the gorgeous way she crafts her sentences in this irresistible rolling, rambling, wave of words that leaves you unintentionally imitating the protagonist’s voice in your head (exhibit A, this review). It’s perhaps that, while it’s really horny, lewd, filthy, awesomely naughty and perverse, in the moment before those moments you actually chuckle. You actually “LOL” or perhaps GOL, Guffaw Out Loud. (This lends itself to the erotica-reader-on-the-sly, as your chuckles might throw off an onlooker into perhaps thinking you’re reading some Dave Barry or maybe Steve Martin’s latest tweet. Your slutty secret will be safe.)

But I think, in fact, what makes Power Play the amazing read that it is, is Charlotte’s knowledge of the strange yet wonderful cyclical nature of the D/s relationship. How on the surface it may seem that the Dom holds all the power and the sub is, well, exactly that, submissive. But in fact it’s so much more layered and complex, little mini microcosms of power displays all winding down within themselves, like putting two mirrors facing into each other. Her understanding of that, and her ability to weave believable characters from that understanding, is what lies at the heart of what makes this a great, read-in-one-gulp, sigh-in-satisfaction-at-the-end sort of read. Love!

Visit Charlotte's site and buy her book here:

http://themightycharlottestein.blogspot.ca/?zx=3628e752a17e4481

Chapter 3

The nuptials were planned quickly, mostly by James, eager as he was to get Ewan married off, his reputation intact, thereby setting the stage for the meeting with Maxwell Samms. James knew that if they were to convince Samms once again to invest some of his considerable fortune to expand the mill, then everything had to be just right. Not that the first investment hadn’t paid off; the mill was flourishing and it had certainly been a wise financial decision, as James had assured him it would. But Samms was a fickle sort as well as something of a religious zealot. Plus he was not a stranger to scandal in his own family. It would not do to have his business endeavours called into question.

Seated in his own private office on the first floor of the Draper Estate, James lit his pipe and considered the events of the day. The wedding had been a small but stately affair, brief but quaint, in his opinion. The bride looked lovely. James paused in his thoughts as he considered Lillianne. She was not who he would have chosen for Ewan. He’d been to the mill last month and it seemed to him there were plenty of plain but serviceable young women who would have been more suitable, women with good birthing hips to produce a wholesome clan of Draper offspring. Of course, when James was last there Lillianne had not come to the mill yet and it was just Providence that she would arrive when it was time for Ewan to choose his bride. James could not say exactly why he didn’t altogether approve. There was something in her eyes… He shook his head. Regardless, she did in fact come from a good, farming family. James had checked into it and there was nothing he could find to even suggest impropriety. He thought then of the Rodham establishment and shivered. Certainly Ewan could have chosen much worse.

James heard laughter in the front foyer and looked out of his office in time to see his boss sweep his new bride up into his arms and start up the wide central staircase, no doubt to the marital bed they would soon share for the first time. And it would be the first time; he had made certain of that by keeping the young bride-to-be sequestered away until today.

Lillianne lay in her new bed beside her groom, fidgeting slightly with the soft chiffon nightgown that had been one of her wedding gifts. Beside her, Ewan stretched out like a jungle cat in the warm sun, smiling his wide, charming smile. Turning on his side, he casually lifted a lock of her brown hair in his fingers and twirled it absently. ‘Lilly, my darling, that was amazing,’ he said softly. He stared into her eyes, still caressing her hair, and in so doing grazed the thin fabric of her nightgown against her erect nipple. Her breath caught slightly and she shivered. He seemed not to notice.

Kissing her quickly on the lips he rolled back, reached over to his night table and set about lighting a cigar. As he puffed he got up, strode naked across the room and grabbed his trousers. Pulling them on he said, ‘I hope you won’t be terribly disappointed. I have a few things to attend to downstairs with James. I may be an hour or two.’ Lilly tried her best to hide her disappointment. ‘I am sure you will come to understand that sometimes my work at the mill takes precedence.’ He looked at her then, his gaze lingering over the outline of her breasts through her thin nightgown and then back to her eyes. He hesitated. Then softly he added, ‘It won’t be all the time, sweet Lilly.’ He kissed her again and left.

Lilly lay for a while in the darkness, surrounded by the unfamiliarity of her new bedroom. The last two weeks had been a complete blur and she could scarcely believe the life she was now leading. Mrs. Draper. Mrs. Ewan Draper. Ewan Draper is my husband, she thought giddily. And what a fine specimen of husband he was. His hazel eyes contrasting his jet black hair, his muscled physique. Every time he smiled at her Lilly’s heart pumped like the sewing machine she no longer had to use. And even though in some respects the past two weeks had been a whirlwind, in one important way it had been long and drawn out. That was because of James, Ewan’s manservant.

There had been lots to do for the wedding and Lilly had been kept busy. She was aided a great deal by Celeste, Draper Estate’s French-Canadian kitchen maid. The two were about the same age and, despite the circumstances that now placed a huge gap between their statuses at the estate, their backgrounds were not dissimilar. Both had been raised on farms, albeit Celeste in rural Quebec. Lillianne found an ally in Celeste. After her lonely time at the mill amid the workers whose guarded nature bordered on being unfriendly, Lilly realized she was desperate for a friend. Celeste immediately took her in, seeking her out to chatter with and ooh and ahh over the dresses and accessories Lilly’s new position now afforded her.

Lily had moved into a guest bedroom at Draper Mansion and she was happy making preparations for her new life, but what she longed for most in those two weeks, what she eagerly anticipated each night, were the moments when Ewan would come home from the mill and they could be together. She would be with Celeste considering the dinner menu or in the drawing room looking over the guest list for the wedding and in he would sweep, filling the room with his enormous presence. The very air she breathed seemed to be transformed when he entered. On these nights he would take her in his strong arms, caress her gently and murmur in her ear how he missed her, how he had thought about her all day, how he could not wait until she was his bride and they could be together every night. And just when his words would stop and his lips would find hers, as his hands began roaming her body, James would appear in the doorway. He would clear his throat or perhaps remind Ewan of some late business that needed attending. ‘James is just looking out for me, for my reputation… and yours,’ Ewan assured his soon-to-be bride as he adjusted the bulk that their embrace had arisen in his trousers and stood to leave her. ‘We’ll have all the time in the world soon enough, my love.’

So Lilly had dreamed of her wedding night and all the passion it would bring, especially after the intensity of their first clandestine union that seemed another life time ago, in the backroom of Draper Industries. Now, though, she lay alone, her body still humming with all of that built up anticipation.

Their marital consummation had been quick. They were barely in bed before her new husband, whispering of how much he had been fantasizing about this moment, mounted and entered her. Lilly knew he was big after that first time, but this time there was pain as his swollen flesh penetrated her. She gasped with the shock of it. And then suddenly it was over and he was gone.

Lilly didn’t understand the way she was feeling. How could that first melding of their bodies, hurried and in a stuffy back room of the mill when they were veritable strangers, have brought her so much joy, a mad rush of sheer ecstasy, when this time, in bed as husband and wife, had left her so… so… so what? Needy. Wanting.

The sewing machine.

Her mind went back to the din of the mill, sitting at her machine, and how the chair vibrated with her work. Her heart beat faster and she felt herself moisten as she remembered how she pressed down against those vibrations while imagining the man who would become her husband exploring her body. As she lay there remembering, she reached down under the blankets, under her nightgown, her fingers seeking out the spot, the place on her body that had felt the vibrations and needed that stimulation.

Later that night, the details of his meeting with Samms attended to, Ewan returned to the bedroom to see his new bride. But he was unprepared for what he would find when he opened the door.

The glow from the candle he carried illuminated the darkened room just enough for him to see. The bodice of her nightdress had come loose at the seams leaving the olive coloured skin of her breasts and darkened nipples exposed. Her legs were spread wide and her fingers worked steadily at the apex of her sex. He blinked in disbelief as he perceived a tallow candle protruding from her sopping hole that she was working slowly in and out with her other hand. But the foreign object she used was not what shocked and angered him the most. With her head thrown back, her hair a wild, dark waterfall cascading around her shoulders and brushing her nipples and her eyes shut tight, her face was a mask of sheer ecstasy. So engrossed was she in her passion that she did not even hear his entrance. Her moans came louder as she thrust the candle faster and harder. He could see it glisten with her wetness. The fingers of her other hand stroked faster as her cries seemed to be working to a crescendo. He was incredulous that this woman, his bride, was so wanton, so lustful that she was defiling their marital bed in his house, under his roof with her vile actions. He was livid. And his cock was rock hard.

‘Whore!’ he shouted as he moved to the bed. Placing his own candle down on the night table he snatched the one protruding from her pussy and flung it across the room. Scrambling to recover herself, his wife’s body shook with fear and, it seemed, something else. She tried to rearrange the bedclothes to regain some shred of her tattered modesty but Ewan flung those away as well. ‘Now that I have discovered your true whoring nature, let us not cling to falsehoods. How dare you purport yourself to be worthy of the title of my wife when it is evident that you are nothing but a common slut. My god, Weiler was right!’

‘My love, I wasn’t … I mean, I didn’t mean to…’

He grabbed her hands and held them to his face. ‘Do you dare deny your actions? I saw where these hands were.’ He brought her fingers to his nose and inhaled. Her scent at once aroused his passion and inflamed his ire further. Holding her wrists above her head, he moved to mount her. ‘I’ve heard of your kind, he rasped in her ear. ‘Couldn’t spend an hour without having something hard in your cunt? Well, I’ll oblige you, then.’ And with that he thrust himself inside of her.

Ewan had been with hundreds of women, but never before had he experienced sliding his substantial rod inside a woman in one push, the way he was able to with Lilly. He was uncommonly large and he usually had to work for some time to gain entry, often spitting on his hand and lubricating his dick in an effort to work his girth into the woman he was fucking. But, as she had been the first time he took her in the backroom of the mill, Lilly was so wet, so ready to receive him that he slid into her tight hole like he was sliding into velvet. Her slick tightness immediately contracted around him and she bucked and moaned. He worked his cock like a piston, in and out, fueled by rage and lust. The more she gasped and clung to him the more enraged and aroused he became. He felt his seed bubbling up in his balls. Never had he bedded a woman who acted with passion that equaled his own. What kind of demon had possessed this woman to make her act like a man? Indeed, she seemed to be working to her own climax. She pushed her pelvis up to meet him and when she cried out he felt her sex pulse and cling around his shaft accompanied by a sudden gush of wetness. The unexpected contractions stole his breath and he came quickly, barely realizing it was happening until it was upon him. He was left gasping and twitching on top of her.

Leaving the room after he’d hastily readjusted his trousers he paused at the door. ‘You better be out of this house by morning, slut,’ he growled. Then he was gone.

Two nights later, however, Lillianne was not only still at Draper Mansion, Ewan was again in the master bedroom with her. But this time he was not alone.

Chapter 2

Ewan strode down the front of the sewing room where all the mill girls had been lined up per his instructions to Bob Brighton. Brighton was the younger of his two foremen and the one Ewan preferred dealing with; he found Weiler shifty. There was something he didn’t trust about him. Thankfully he was absent at the moment.

As he walked, he took in each girl. Some stood together, giggling nervously and picking lint and thread from their hair and clothes, but most of them looked down, studying the floor. Their frocks were mostly grey or brown, buttoned high around their necks and fell, wrinkled and shapeless, over their underskirts to mid calf. All wore their hair pulled tightly back, presumably to allow them to work unfettered. They were a pale, dusty bunch and none inspired even the smallest spark in Ewan. He remembered James’s advice, that he needn’t heed his wedding vows but only take a wife to become the family man that Boston society apparently needed him to be. But if he was to father a child it would be necessary to bed the woman who was to become his bride at least sporadically, and he couldn’t imagine his staff rising to the occasion with any of the dismal creatures he had before him.

Suddenly, in the unusual quiet of the sewing room, he heard a muffled cry and a scraping of chair legs from the back office.

‘What’s going on back there?’ Ewan demanded of his foreman as he headed to the back to check on the noise himself.

‘Sir! Don’t go back there, sir!’ With his long strides, Ewan was already half way to the back and his foreman couldn’t keep up. ‘Weiler’s reprimanding an employee, sir,’ Bob yelled after him in vain. ‘You needn’t concern yourself!’

When Ewan threw open the door to the foreman’s back office he could barely believe what he saw. Weiler had one of the younger mill girls, his newest if he remembered correctly, gagged with a piece of cotton tied around her mouth and another around her wrists. Her frock was torn, leaving the white corset she wore underneath exposed. He had her pushed against the desk, the only furniture in the small room besides the chair. She was bent over it with her pelvis pressed to the edge, trying to support her upper body on the desk with her bound hands. Weiler had her under skirts pulled up and Ewan caught him furiously yanking at his half hard meat when he opened the door.

‘Weiler, what the hell is going on in here!’ he bellowed. From behind him he heard gasping and whispering from the rest of his staff. ‘Brighton, get those girls back to work,’ he yelled out into the work area and slammed the office door shut, leaving him alone with Weiler and the distraught girl.

‘Sir! I - I can explain,’ Weiler stammered, pulling his prick back into his trousers. ‘This one was using the machine improperly, sir, she – I was reprimanding her, sir.’

‘This is reprimanding, is it?’ Ewan stared at the girl. Her hair had come loose and tumbled in chocolate waves down her exposed back. Her skin was a deep olive shade, unlike the pale skin of the other girls. Tears welled in her dark, almond shaped eyes as she looked over her shoulder and met his gaze. In that moment, Ewan experienced a feeling he had never encountered, a connection that went straight to the core of his being. Something about the maiden’s pleading face, her beauty and vulnerability, triggered a chord deep within him. ‘The “improper” use of equipment? What sort of use could warrant this?’

‘Yes, let me explain, Mr. Draper,’ Weiler began. ‘I know her type, sir. What she was doing, sir, well you see, she’s a wanton slut, she needed …’ At these words Ewan took a step and backhanded Weiler across his face.

‘How dare you claim to know such things?!’ he roared. Grabbing Weiler by the scruff of the neck he muttered, ‘I should have done this ages ago.’ Then loudly, ‘You’re fired! Now get out!’ Ewan opened the door and shoved Weiler out of the office so forcefully he tripped and fell, sprawling across the floor. ‘Brighton! Get him outta here,’ he yelled before he slammed the door again.

Alone in the room now with the poor girl, Ewan approached her, untied the cloth around her mouth and asked, somewhat awkwardly, her name.

‘Lillianne, sir,’ she whispered quietly. ‘Lillianne Saunders.’

Next Ewan untied the cloth around her wrists. But even after they were untied he remained close to her still holding her wrists, gently massaging the reddened areas where the cloth had pressed into her flesh. He gazed down into her face. It was more than the loosened hair and exposed skin that separated her from the other mill girls. Somehow she glowed. Her cheeks were flushed, perhaps from the exertion, the terror she had just experienced at almost being assaulted by the vile Weiler. But it seemed to Ewan that it was more than that. She radiated with a kind of intensity that barely registered with Ewan’s brain, but of which his body was acutely aware. He realized then that his cock was stiff and had been since he laid eyes on her, bound and partially exposed.

‘Lillianne,’ he murmured, as if in a trance, pulling her close, feeling her soft warmth through her disheveled clothing, against his hardness.

Lilly could barely breathe, her mind whirling, as Mr. Draper, his muscled arms enveloping her body, leaned down to kiss her. So much was happening so fast. Ewan Draper coming to the mill, Mr. Weiler catching her, what he had almost done to her! But now, with Mr. Draper’s lips upon hers, his hands roaming over her just as she’d been imagining, her mind forgot all of that as her body responded to those hands.

In fact, it seemed her body picked up right from where it had been left by her machine, pulsing, writhing, hanging on that edge and cut off from reaching its climax. Her undergarments were still soaked from those earlier exertions and only were becoming wetter as she felt Ewan Draper’s manhood pressed firmly against the top of her mound.

Being a farm girl Lilly was not ignorant of the couplings of animals and people. There had even been a few romps in the hay with a neighbour boy. But never had she felt desire like this, never this throbbing between her thighs, never the intensity of this want, this need. She marveled at the hardness of him that she could feel against her and then every other thought was obliterated by the image of him driving that pulsing shaft into her, filling that throbbing emptiness with every inch that it desperately needed. As she imagined it she felt a tear of moisture slip down between her thighs.

Mr. Draper broke their kiss then. He took her face in both his hands and in a gravelly voice whispered, ‘Lillianne, you’ve intoxicated me. I want you to become my bride. Please say you will.’ He kissed her again then, moving his hands to caress her breasts, pulling them from her bodice and pinching her already erect nipples. Lilly started and nearly climaxed right then. More moisture seeped from between her legs.

‘Oh yes, sir, please,’ she gasped. ‘I mean, I will, I want,’ but she couldn’t speak anymore. She was leaning with the top of her buttocks against the desk when Ewan Draper pulled his enormous cock out of his trousers, parted her legs and thrust it up inside her. She felt the enormity of it stretch her, almost impossibly so, but she was so wet she took all of him and could feel the end of it slam against her insides. Blissfully, all of the nerve endings in that bud of flesh that had sought out the vibrations of her sewing machine, were pushed firmly against his body, at the base of his shaft. All of her pent up tension and desire rushed to that spot as she threw her arms around his neck, one leg around his bottom and ground her body into him as she felt the dam finally break.

All Lilly could do was hold on to Ewan Draper as her body convulsed, hold on and revel in the bliss of finally being brought over the edge. The flood of sensation was amazing and her pelvic muscles contracted gratefully around his cock in a flood of orgasmic release. ‘My – God,’ Lilly heard her boss sputter, as he emptied his seed inside of her.

The results are in!

Well, I'm sure it's no surprise to you that voting resulted in a landslide for... the denial themed novel! I mean, considering I know pretty much all of you from a denial themed website, that can hardly be a surprise, can it?? LOL.

So you asked, and you shall receive. Here's the beginning of Affliction...

Lie back and think of England.

-Queen Victoria to her daughter on her wedding night

Chapter 1

‘This cannot go on.’

‘James…’

‘I’m sorry, sir, but it simply cannot. I’ve just come from town. The rumours are beginning to circulate.’

‘So let them.’ Ewan sank himself into his library armchair and lit a cigar.

‘It will affect business.’ After fifteen years working as Ewan Draper’s butler, James knew how to get his lord’s attention. ‘Certain people prefer to deal with a businessman who’s …’ he paused here, choosing his words carefully, ‘…more of a family man, sir.’

Ewan scoffed. ‘ “Certain people?” You’re talking about Samms.’

‘I’m talking about prominent leaders in this town. The mill is growing, sir, but its growth is at a crucial point. You need Samms. You need all of them. A scandal will affect who does business with you.’

‘A scandal,’ Ewan muttered. ‘I spent the evening with some friends. I hardly see what the issue is.’

‘It would be advisable to be more selective in choosing your … friends.’ James paused. ‘Sir,’ he added quietly.

‘Besides, I’m hardly a novelty. I pass by half of Boston’s elite going up Ms. Rodham’s steps,’ Ewan grinned. ‘I just spend more time up there than most.’

James swallowed. He was well aware of his master’s appetite, in all areas. It was part of what made him such a successful businessman. Ewan Draper threw himself into whatever he did, with an aim to doing it better, bigger, more successfully. That’s how he was growing his cotton mill into the booming power that it was becoming. He worked hard and he played hard. But the playing was getting to be a problem.

‘That may be true, sir, but those men exercise a certain amount of decorum. Their … activities are carried out with a significant amount of subtlety. There is less to talk about.’

Ewan smiled widely at this. ‘I had Rodham pick three out for me last night. I told her I wanted a blonde, a brunette and a redhead.’ He took a long puff of his cigar and stretched back in his chair. ‘Mm, that redhead was a vixen. I had the other two warm me up with their mouths but I saved my seed for that redhead’s tight little,’ he looked up and caught sight of James’s disapproving stare. ‘Ah, James, wipe that look off your puss. It would do you to come with me some time. Getting your cock wet might get your mind thinking about something other than business for a change.’

‘I’m sure that’s not necessary, sir,’ James said tightly. ‘But your colourful account only proves my point. Samms and others may visit those establishments but they are discreet. And by and large they are married, which affords them the benefit of appearances.’

‘I am hardly going to pin myself down to one woman for the sake of appearances, James. Didn’t you just hear me say I had three last night? And those three could hardly keep up with me,’ he said, smiling again.

‘Appearances, sir. That’s the issue. Find yourself a wife. Have a child.’ Ewan grimaced. ‘Your marriage vows and whether or not you uphold them will be secondary, as long as you conduct yourself with a tad more discretion.’

Ewan silently stubbed out his cigar, mulling this over. ‘Perhaps I could speak to Rodham and see if she’d let me take the little redhead. That pussy in my bed every night might not be a bad thing.’

‘Sir!’ James exclaimed. ‘Sir, having one of Ms. Rodham’s employees become your wife is hardly going to help with appearances. Now, you have that meeting with Samms next month so time is of the essence here. She needn’t be someone of high birth, as long as she’s from a wholesome background. I can take care of the rest.’ James thought for a moment. ‘Even Celeste would do,’ he said, almost to himself.

‘Celeste!’ Ewan scoffed. Ewan being Ewan, he’d already attempted on a number of occasions to avail himself of his kitchen maid’s comely figure only to be spurned, almost viciously. The only reason the young woman still had her job was at James’s insistence. She was impeccable at her duties and, as James reminded his boss, such good help was difficult to find. ‘There is no chance I will be hitching myself to that frigid wench. Think again.’ Ewan stood and crossed the room, rested his hand on a bookshelf and gazed out the library’s bay window across the expanse of his estate. ‘I mean, I’ve never had a shortage of women to go to, but wholesome? Wholesome…’ he muttered.

‘The mill, sir,’ James began.

‘Yes, I know, I’m doing this for the mill.’

‘Of course, sir. But what I mean is, there are the mill girls…’

The air in the textile mill was stale and hot, the din of fifty sewing machines droning on around Lillianne. At 20, she was unaccustomed to being on her own after spending most of her life on her family’s New England farm. Work on the farm was tough, back breaking at times and they often went without, but surrounded by her family and other local folk, she never wanted for any other kind of life.

But last month when the businessmen from Draper Mills had visited from the city, explaining they were recruiting young women to come and work, their promises of up to four or five dollars a week was more than Lillianne’s struggling family could pass up.

Her new family, her new home, was something she was still getting used to. The company provided her with her food and lodging in the Draper Boardinghouses along with her weekly salary, the majority of which she sent back home to help keep her mother and father’s farm afloat. Her new sisters, mill sisters, were nice enough, if somewhat pale and unimaginative. But what else could one expect from a life lived indoors, fairly chained to a machine performing the same tasks over and over? This was what was hardest for Lillianne.

She was certainly no stranger to hard work and more than willing to do her share. Everyone was expected to carry her own weight on the farm and Lilly’s slim but sturdy frame was tanned and firm from her exertions in the fresh New England air. Now, seated here, working the treadles up and down as her machine hummed along, the monotony of her task made it impossible not to let her mind wander all number of tracks.

It wasn’t just the monotony. The work on the machine itself was distracting. As she worked the treadles her thighs rubbed together and this, combined with the vibrations of the machine, well, Lilly had heard that one girl had gotten herself in trouble this way. The two foremen patrolling the mill always had an ear primed to hear the telltale sound of a machine suddenly bursting into a frenzied speed. Rules were strict here and the girls were harshly punished and even docked pay for straying from their work. But docked pay was not the worst of punishments. The way Lilly heard it, last month Mr. Weiler, the older of the two foremen, caught a girl using the machine “improperly.” Lilly shuddered as she thought of the wrinkled, gap toothed grin of the lecherous old man the way it must have been, the way she heard he’d grabbed the girl up, snarling that he would give her what she wanted, and shoved her into the back office. Nothing could be heard over the frightening din of the machines they’d said, but when the girl emerged fifteen minutes later, the pathetic creature’s eyes were red from crying, her lip was swollen and her skirts were torn. She’d disappeared the next morning leaving a note saying she’d gone back to her family’s farm.

So Lilly tried her best to focus on her work. But her mind often betrayed her. And it always seemed to find its way back to Ewan Draper.

She had seen the mill’s owner only once before when he came to consult with the foremen. She did her best not to let her gaze linger too long as he strode across the factory floor, but her quick glimpses drank in his six foot three frame, wavy black hair, wide shoulders and narrowed waist in his finely tailored suit. His stride was long, each step certain and purposeful. His voice commanded respect but his smile was wide and easy. When he laughed it was a profound, sonorous sound from deep within his gut, and he slapped the backs of the men he spoke with. He had actually walked down her aisle and stopped right by her as she worked. She had held her breath and didn’t dare look up, but his hand had lingered for a moment on the edge of her machine as he discussed some small point with the foreman. The size of that hand! She stared raptly at the wide palm and long, thick fingers, something almost brutal in the circumference and apparent strength of each one. She had a sudden impulse to grab that hand, take one of those digits between her lips and suck it. Madness! She had shoved the ridiculous thought aside as her body shivered.

Now the thought returned. Diligently she sat, pushing the coarse fabric deftly through, working the treadle up and down, her thighs squeezed tightly together, her machine drumming its threaded road along its fabric path. The hammering of the needle caused vibrations to pulse through her chair and she worked to push her buttocks closer to the edge of her seat, so slowly as to be barely perceptible. In her mind she caressed Mr. Draper’s hand, slid her own slim fingers between his broad ones, brought them to her cheek and then kissed each finger softly. Now at the edge of her seat she pushed herself down, spread and flattened the soft folds of her flesh firmly on the fabric of her skirts and against the hard wood so as to experience the full intensity of its vibrations. Her thoughts turned to taking that hand, those fingers and pulling them up, under her skirts, between her legs. Slowly she worked the speed up on her treadle, the pushing up and down only serving to further work her thighs against her swelling flesh. She tried hard to keep from gasping as sweat sprang to her brow and began to roll down her temples. Mr. Draper’s imaginary fingers found their target and it took every fibre of her being not to work the treadle to its highest velocity, thereby arousing the suspicion of the wicked Mr Weiler. Instead she continued her steady pace as the vibrations brought her ever closer to her destination.

‘Halt!’ roared the foreman, and Lilly had to stifle a strangled cry of desperation as she unwillingly forced her foot off the treadle causing the vibration to cease.

‘Mr Draper will be visiting the mill in five minutes! This time he wants to take a small amount of time to speak to his mill girls.’ A buzz went around the room. Mr Draper to address the mill girls? ‘I know this is highly usual! I’m sure you’re all excited but let us not allow our emotions to override our good sense. I expect you all to show the highest amount of decorum and industriousness.’

The noise level increased as all the girls turned to each other to converse in giddy anticipation of their much esteemed leader. Lilly, however, was still preoccupied. Her body throbbing, she took advantage of the renewed noise level to gear up her machine to its highest speed. Her mind swirled with thoughts of Ewan Draper now that his presence was imminent: his powerful stride, his commanding voice, his deep laugh. Taking advantage of everyone’s preoccupation, she worked her treadles furiously, her lower body writhing against the humming chair as she imagined Draper’s hands probing her, rubbing her, taking her. She swallowed her whimpering cries and had just about, had almost, almost, reached her peak just as Ewan Draper entered the mill and Mr Weiler’s piercing eyes fell upon her.

Chapter two tomorrow! In the meantime, tweet, comment, FB and let me know what you think so far!

Tell me!

I want to post some free erotica and get your opinions!

I have two options for what to post.

First is a modern day story involving some girl on girl action, sex between friends, culminating in a group sex scene. It never sold as it’s too long to be a short story and too short to be a novella! It does not have a denial aspect to it, just lots of steamy fucking.

Second is a novel I was/am working on. I posted an excerpt a while ago here. I got distracted by other projects so it’s still sitting in limbo. I thought, why not let you read more! And get your opinions!

So… Please tweet me @kyokochurch or write on my Facebook or blog wall to let me know which you’d like to read! Does this seem like a shameless ploy to get social media traffic? Because it is. A fledgling smut writer’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. It’s worth it to read some free stuff, right? I hope you’ll think so!

So let me know which you'd like to read and I'll post installments daily of whichever you choose! I'll count up votes, let you know the outcome and post the first installment by Tuesday afternoon. Sound good?