Celebrate the new year with a piece of erotica from Elliot Silvestri. The second part of The Devil of Dunwich series, The Devil’s Mark,
releases on January 1 at midnight. Who doesn’t like to explore the
erotic horror of the early settlers of Massachusetts? Get it at Amazon or Smashwords.
Dunwich, Massachusetts, 1723
After
getting married and marking herself as the devil’s property, Tace
introduces her lusty drunkard of a husband to the strange devil that she
now worships. Creedence James proves an apt pupil—and sexual servant—of
the devil and then has to hide his secret life from his reverend father
and the rest of the village. What the devil does to him is inspire a
desire to do more than just bed women and drink all day.
This is a 10,000 word novella intended for adult audiences. Part two of three.
Content
warning: this story features sexual acts between a devil and humans,
lesbian sex, gay sex, BDSM and erotic torture, anal sex, sex magic,
strong language, erotic situations not all members of the public will
enjoy, and other depictions of adult sexuality. Explicit language and
adult only content.
Excerpt:
“He told me to go to you and make a sacrifice.”
“What sacrifice?”
“To have you mark me like you are marked. I don’t know what he meant. He said you would, however.”
A smile played on Obedience’s lips. “I have his mark on me,” she admitted.
“It can’t be when he cut me with his nails, can it,” said Tace. “I’ve already been marked by him that way. What does he mean?”
Obedience
half turned and pulled up the skirts of her dress baring her flesh. The
sign was there, it was subtle enough to be easily missed.
It was
a simple design, one that had scared more than one pure-thinking
Christian to the core. A circle with a five pointed star inside it. It
was small enough and faded enough that unless one was looking for it,
the mark would be missed. “How did that get there?” Tace asked.
“Hot iron.”
Tace
had fallen to her knees to inspect the mark. It was little more than a
scar now. Obedience was proud to show off her mark to her friend. “Hot
iron?” Tace asked after a long moment. “You did it to yourself?”
Elliot Silvestri has crafted a series of stories that take
place on a sex resort known only as The Farm. What goes on at this semi-secret
retreat is between the clients and the very sexy, very horny staff. No kink or desire
is outlawed, but the guests must be brave enough to voice their desires…
Originally published as five separate stories: The Red Collar, Rosemilk, Victor’s Chastity,
Breeding on The Farm, and Milking on
The Farm.
Total length is 160,000 words. This collection is intended
for adult audiences.
Content warning: These stories
features graphic sex, erotic lactation,
pregnant sex, lesbian sex, adult nursing relationships, BDSM, spanking,
enforced male chastity, group sex, erotic situations not all members of
the public will enjoy, and other depictions of adult sexuality. Explicit
language and adult only content.
The Red Collar:
Analise willingly accepts a job as an assistant to a
dominatrix. She quickly discovers that Mistress Kim runs a large and complex
business catering to the whims of those in the BDSM community. What scares and
shocks her is how easily it is to become part of that culture. Though she never
considered herself a prude, what she witnesses and helps facilitate is
something new entirely. The most surprising part of her education and new job
is her conflict over whether to continue on as a dominatrix, or allow herself
to descend into the frightening and erotic world of the slave.
Rosemilk:
Maia is a suburban housewife who gets taken away to the
vacation of her erotic dreams - to be a milk cow on The Farm, servicing all
their guests. It’s a dream—a fantasy—come true, the gift of her husband,
butis being a slave to other’s milky
desires truly what Maia wants? Facing her deep, dark desires forces Maia to
realize the problems that can ensue when dreams are fulfilled.
Kim isn’t terribly concerned when she falls in lust with a
new servant on The Farm. But when she allows the lust to run its course and
discovers she’s pregnant and isn’t sure if the father is the youthful Dylan or
her longtime companion Mark difficulties ensue. Not the least of which are her
steadily growing belly, her tender, milk-laden breasts, and a group determined
to wrest control of The Farm away from her.
Milkin on The Farm:
It’s been years since Luanne worked at The Farm and she
thought she was done with that part of her life, but a personal and financial
crisis finds her accepting a new position that wasn’t available years ago. Kim
wants Luanne to lactate for a new client—a new client who wants to push the
definition of an adult nursing relationship and how The Farm operates. After
starting the program Luanne finds that being dehumanized and her body used to
the limit is exactly what she needs,
even if she doesn’t know how far she will be pushed.
After
a rocky introduction to our master-slave relationship, I happily grew
into the role of owning Sheila. When we brought Claire and her husband,
her slave, into our sex lives everything became much more
complicated…and much more exciting.
This is an 11,000 word novella intended for adult audiences. Part three of three.
Content
warning: features graphic sex, BDSM, dominant male-submissive female,
cheating spouses, forced body modification, willing slave play, strong
language, erotic situations not all members of the public will enjoy,
and other depictions of adult sexuality. Explicit language and adult
only content.
Excerpt:
The sex that Claire and I had
wasn’t exactly violent, but it was very energetic which is to be
expected when two dominants go to bed. We made our spouses—our
slaves—wait out in the hallway behind the closed bedroom door. It was a
typical cost-savings hollow-core door so they assuredly heard everything
that we were doing. That was part of the fun. Before banishing Bruce
from the bedroom Claire had put his ball gag back in place so he
couldn’t talk. I wasn’t sure what the two slaves would say to each
other, but that wasn’t important.
“I wasn’t too hard on you, was I?”
Claire shook her head. “No. I love a good sex. I haven’t gotten that in a while because of Bruce.”
“You keep him in that cage. You can take it off him when you want that.”
She
laughed as I was drawing my finger up her thigh and at first I thought I
was tickling her, but then she said. “No. Well, yes. I can take it off,
but he has trouble getting it up. Sad really.”
I froze. Just the mention of another man’s problems made me instantly nervous. “He can’t get an erection?”
It’s been available for a few days now, but you can still get part two of Grace Vilmont’s fine new novella My Wife, My Slave,
a gentle meditation on the roles between a dominant-master-husband and
his submissive-slave-wife. And really, isn’t that the normal state of
affairs for my marriages nowadays? (Unless the marriage is a
role-reversal of dominant-mistress-wife and her
submissive-slave-husband). Anyway, enjoy it from Smashwords or Amazon.
Sheila
took to the life of a slave. She enjoyed the discipline and routine I
handed out and took great pleasure in the rewards. She was shocked when I
started posting her pictures on the internet she wasn’t ashamed. When I
gave her the task of finding me another woman to bring into our bed,
she didn’t balk. What she and I didn’t anticipate was how a new person
could so change our relationship…for the better.
This is an 11,000 word novella intended for adult audiences. Part two of three.
Content
warning: features graphic sex, BDSM, dominant male-submissive female,
cheating spouses, forced body modification, willing slave play, strong
language, erotic situations not all members of the public will enjoy,
and other depictions of adult sexuality. Explicit language and adult
only content.
Excerpt:
“Claire?”
“Yes,” she
smiled. Her lips were thin but that didn’t necessarily mean anything bad
about her. I was just a little too focused on them. “You must be Jack
and Sheila.”
“That’s us. Nice to meet you.”
“Please sit
down,” she gestured to the empty seats at the small table. The
restaurant was entering a peak serving time and she had resorted to
leaving her jacket and purse on the two empty chairs next to her. She
watched as I seated myself and then Sheila sat down next to me. “You
don’t hold the chair for your wife?”
“I don’t hold a chair for my slave,” I said mildly.
Claire nodded once in agreement. “Is that what she is today?” A smile was creeping on her face.
“Show
her,” I said to Sheila who carefully glanced around. No one was
watching us, no one even cared. Carefully Sheila pulled back her long
sleeve and revealed the red cuff around her wrist, locked on with a
padlock. After making sure that Claire saw the cuff, she let the sleeve
slip back down.