He emerged from the subway, blinded by the harsh reflection of the New York sun off of the thousand-foot-tall phalluses that raped the skyline.

Out in the desert, they did it like rabid cats in heat.

They did the Hokie-Pokie and forgot to pull right out.

That's what it's all about.

His throbbing penis penetrated my anus, again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and I screamed every time he thrust deeper into me.
"Oh, James!"
The harder he fucked me, the harder I farted and every time I farted he got harder and fucked me harder and so I farted harder and the cycle continued.

Jesus lit, all of you kissless virgins don't have shit, do you?

>>2092874
>sits at computer all day typing out his fantasies as if they mattered
>calls us virgins
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXw6znXPfy4&feature=related

>>2092881
awesome vid.

but really, I've seen some great short stories here with sexual content. I'm curious how lit would describe an orgasm, or the feeling when getting close to it. Intellectuals have libidos too and I want to know what they would write.

In the back of the club, she waited, but her friend didn't show up. She
went out for a few minutes, waiting at the top of the staircase. Looking
around the dark street trying to make up her mind. What was broken inside
of her led her back into the club. She set her self up. Straight leg
jeans and a simple blouse, thin brown hair. Thin sleek body. Young and
plain. Still, she was younger than most women in the club, and young is
enough. Again in the back of the club. Crossing her arms, moving around a
bit. Sitting by yourself is an invitation. Cruisers approach her one
after another. Eventually, what she waited for begins. He is a broad
shouldered brooklynite. Black haired with a poor complexion. He works her
foot after she gives her permission, his fingers kneading, working the
toes, the ridged parts. It makes no difference to her who he is. He has
hands, a mouth. He will do everything she wants, everything she lets him.

>>2092887
She needs to do nothing but receive. It's her first time, she goes too
far. Lets him do more than she intended. The jeans come off. Bare thighs
separate. His hand works between them. Sweat drips onto her stomach. His
breath is on her stomach. His tongue penetrates her. She traps his head
with her legs. She looks up. A crowd presses in around the two of them.
Hands grip exposed members. The crowd pushes in further. A hand lifts her
shirt. Someone warns the others to back up. Someone is sitting next to
them. She'd forgotten. Her arm is extended. Her hand finds warm flesh.
Guided to warm flesh. Sitting next to her, but. she wants, needs. She
doesn't understand what makes it so satisfying. It makes her nervous. It
adds to the satisfaction. His mouth works on her as she closes her eyes.
She opens her eyes again. Looking into the hungry faces around her. She
arches her back a little. Involuntary ripples of her stomach. Finished
between her legs, he rises up. He lays on top of her. He kisses her
mouth. She tastes herself, and other things. Stale, sweet. She can't see
anything. His body blocks her vision. Not seeing anyone, it seems like
she is alone. His weight is familiar. Pressing down onto her like. a
memory she can't acknowledge. It goes on for a while.

>>2092889
At one point she
straddles his legs, her back turned to the crowd. The voyeurs never leave.
If they can't be touched, at least they can watch. It's her first time.
But she's been looking for this place for a long time. She started looking
before she knew what she wanted to find. The club doesn't advertise. She
found it like everyone else. Like water seeking it's own level. When it's
over, she adjusts her clothes self consciously. She walks to the bathroom.
Inside, she looks into the mirror. Afraid for just a moment. It's still
herself looking back. She feels... something. She smiles, laughs back at
her reflection. All of this suits her. Really, she's been seeking this
for her whole life. She is beginning to fall.

As I positioned myself on top, I paused to look down. Her broad smiling face looked at me, then looked down. I glanced to see her legs open before me, inviting me in like an old friend.

I put my hands on her thighs, and didn't so much as enter her, as I fell into her. Warm softness engulfed me, then I felt her tighten. I looked up again to see the smiling face was now a grimace of satisfaction. The pain excited her. I squeezed her thighs to steady myself, and began the gentle movement inside her. Rocking back and forth, squeezing her wherever I pleased.

Meh, just wrote it on the spot. Having trouble remembering my last encounter. I'm guessing that's a sign it's been too long?

welp, closet i ever got to that.....

"I've never shown anyone this shit before," he whispers in my mouth, tastes like whiskey and weed when he kisses me. "You're special, babe."

I wouldn't be even be down here if he wasn't so out of it. A hundred candles and sticks of incense are burning slow, clouds of smoke heavy with the stink of it. Chalk outlines are barely visible on the walls, the floor, black marker circles and zigzags on the sloped ceiling. Dried and gnarled things hang from hooks, spiral and twist and sway in a breeze the few open windows let in. In one corner a naked lightbulb sways over shelves packed with jars and bottles of preserved dead things and herbs, clear Tupperwares of animal bones. The side table I'm leaning on is more of an altar, spotlessly clean tablecloth with a facedown photo, a golden bracelet, a lump of volcanic-looking rock. Smoke chokes me, clouds my vision, and the claustrophobia is kicking in.

Even with him all over me it's freezing. He's shoving me down on a couch, cages me in with his body all lithe and catlike and fucking sexy, okay, and I just close my eyes and go with it.

"Let me, baby," he breathes. "I wanna try something with you," and, okay. Whatever he wants. I close my eyes and his hands grasp all over my body, damp and sticky with sweat.

Suddenly he's bleeding, too. He's tracing a pattern on my skin, dripping onto the leather sofa.

"Hey," I say, try to protest. "Dude, you're-"

"Shut up," he says. "Lemme focus here."

>>2092897
I'm a little drunk. I took a few hits. That's the only excuse for me sitting there, half-naked while he paints blood all over me. After a few minutes he digs his teeth into the open wound again, squeezes hard to let more blood out. It splatters down on my face, and he wipes it up. "Whoa, not there," he laughs. "Shit. That goes - that goes on your neck, babe, turn around," and I just let him. I couldn't fight back even if I wanted to.

He's careful when he's done with me, puts on a bandaid and kisses me carefully so as not to mess up his paintings and sigils. "Over here, babe," he says, licking the shell of my ear, pulls me down to a rug and okay, I'm cool with sex on the floor. Rugburn is fine when you got a good memory to go with it.

I'm alone on the ground only for a minute. Maybe he's grabbing condoms, I'm too busy staring at the wood-grain on the floor just out of my reach. Smears of white chalk everywhere and damn, he's a weird guy. Kind of creepy, maybe he just spends too much time on the internet. Sexy as hell, and that's all I care about.

I can move, really. He didn't tie me up or nothing. Everything is good here.

>>2092898
Finally he comes back, runs a hand up my back and kisses me on the hip, the throat. His cock rubs against the curve of my ass and I arch into it, just on instinct. He laughs, smooths his fingers against the base of my spine, and whispers against my hair. God, I just want him to fuck me already.

He keeps whispering unintelligbly A warm heat is pooling in my stomach, a red light exploding in my brain. I open my eyes and there is a light - the fireplace is lit. I didn't notice that before. Sexy. Flames spill out, curl around us, and his voice grows a fraction louder. It's a little more guttural now, harsher.

The fire responds.

I breathe slowly. Something is taking shape in the flames, and - oh look, it's forming a circle around us. Right along the chalk lines. A few angles peek out - it's just chalk, not even oil or gunpowder or anything.

Okay, then. I'm fine. Whatever he wants to do with me, right? His hands still on my back, his voice is still all deep and throaty, and the shapes in the fire writhe.

>>2092897
more now please.

>>2092901
"Just relax, love," he tells me, finally speaking English. "I trust you."

"I trust you, too" I try to echo, but the words don't come out. A black space is opening behind my eyes, under me and over me and stretching its giant maw into the flames, and I can't help it. I fall in.

"Thank you," he says, just before the end. He's smiling, suddenly sober, and I want to tell him he's welcome, anytime, but then -

>>2092887
>>2092889
>>2092890
This is very cool. It's surreal and dark at the end. What inspired this?

>>2092903
Is this the end? Where the hell did this story come from?

>>2092909
Thank you. I forgot to include the title. "At The Hellfire Club NYC."

Hellfire was a real club, and the story is inspired by a woman I met one night I was there.

>>2092912
yeah it's just a little pos I put on my writing blog along with a bunch of other incomplete stuff. supposed to be the other one is dead, now, dunno if it's clear enough. Subject of a human sacrifice ritual and all.

>>2092914
Did this girl really have sex with you/someone in front of people?

>>2092915
Yeah I got the vibe that she died when her train of thought cut short. Scary. Sexy. I can't get enough of that that supernatural stuff.

>>2092891
sokay man. I write erotica with a lot of references to my real experiences, but I always mix them up. Kind of like a shelf of sensations that I pull from mixed with the fictional plot of the characters and scene.

>>2092915
Link to your blog?

>>2092917
Yes of course. That's why you go to Hellfire.

>>2092921
http://deadheadmiles.blogspot.com/

tbh that's the only erotica I've really written

You told me that you would never touch me. You reduced us to this. When
we first met, I thought you were sweet. You were so beautiful. I thought
you were the kind of man I had always waited for. With your usual insight
you looked me over, and saw the victim inside of me. I suppose that you
had it all planned from that first day we met in the mall. Maybe you've
done this before. It wouldn't surprise me.

You convinced me to let you move into my apartment. I was so eager to
have you there. I wanted to share my space with you. I wanted to share my
self and my body with you. After the first few nights I began to realize
what a mistake I had made. It wasn't the women, the strangers you brought
home to fuck in your room. The loud groans and rhythmic shifting of the
bed humiliating me as I lay in the darkness of my own room. I could have
found a way to accept your other lovers. If you would only have made me
one of them.

>>2092900
Holy shit, she took off her pantyhose and tied him up with them. This is so kinky...
Oh my fucking god. I feel so sorry for both of them.

>>2092956
It amazes me now to realize how quickly, how unconsciously I submitted
to you. I washed your clothes, I cooked for you, anything for the reward
of your smile. An offhand comment about my hair or clothes was enough to
send me scurrying to find a look that would please you. Still, you refused
to touch me. Even by accident. If my hip brushed against you as we both
sat on the couch watching t.v. you pulled away. And yet, somehow, you
managed to make me feel there was a chance of something happening between
us.

I recall the first time I saw your body. I was sitting in the living
room. We were talking as you undressed in your bedroom. There was a
mirror, whose reflection I could see through the angle of the doorway. I
watched you as you took off your shirt, revealing the smooth, sleek lines
of your chest. I recall my breath catching in my throat as you slipped off
your shorts. I blushed, and continued to watch as the tuft of blond hair
at the top of your sex was revealed. If there was any part of me that had
not fallen by that point, it was swept away, watching every part of you
revealed to me.

>>2092957
lol I think you're making fun of me. I deleted my link and will instead post this piece of shit here in toto.

>>2092959
Of course, that was typical of our relationship. Funny, isn't it, that
such an intimate unveiling should happen only through a reflection on cold,
silvered glass. Now, I know that it was no accident. Like everything else
you did, the positioning of the mirror was deliberate, set for it's effect
on me.

It was a longing for revenge that made me start picking up men on the
street. I wanted to show you that even if you didn't want me, there were
others that did.

I gave myself over to anyone willing to take me. Always picturing your
face, always imagining your hands in place of theirs. Imagining that you
were listening in the dark as I tried to take pleasure from those others.

>>2092957 this comment was intended for this:
>>2092956
>>2092959

>>2092966
Sometimes, at night, I would creep out of bed and make my way to the
outside of your door. I would put my ear to the painted wood and listen,
straining to hear your breathing as I masturbated myself. I never tried to
be quiet. I wanted you to hear me, always hoping that the door would open,
and you would finally invite me inside. I realize now that you were
listening all along. I'm sure it amused you to know how pathetic you had
made me. You wanted to keep me wanting you. It must have been easy for
you, having me on a string. Were you saving me for a rainy day?

Unlike you, I hadn't planned for what happened. There was, at first,
nothing deliberate in what I did. In fact, it really wasn't like me at
all. Ask anyone. It was your fault really, things could have been
different. If when you came home, and found me crying with frustration,
you had only let me hold you. I couldn't help myself, I needed to touch
you at last. When you pushed me away again, something closed up, reversed
itself inside of me. I remember hitting you, not flailing at you, but a
real, solid punch with weeks of disappointment behind it. Knocking you to
the floor, stunning you for a few crucial moments.

>>2092970
It would be hard to say which one of us was more surprised. As it
happened, I recovered first. I don't know why I chose to bind your hands
with my pantyhose. It seemed appropriate, using that intimate fabric,
still warm with my body heat. You tried to stand then, but the position of
your arms made you clumsy. It was easy to push you back onto the floor. I
sat on your chest. I slid myself forward, pressing down onto your
shoulders, my skirt riding up over my hips. As I ground myself against
you, you struggled, but I was stronger than you knew, stronger it seems,
than I knew. All of it was so insane, but I didn't care. I was going to
rape you if I could.

All that I wanted was your touch. Having you helpless beneath me,
feeling the sparse, rough hairs of your chest tickling the inside of my
thighs was heaven. There was nothing else I could have done. My need
drove me.

You were yelling, I remember that. Using words I'm sure were always on
the tip of your tongue.

Bitch.

Whore.

>>2092940
thanks, I'm totally checking it out.

>>2092975
It was so easy, so pleasurable to silence you by sitting on your face.
Every movement, every protesting tremor of your jaw rippled through my sex.
Your chin nestled between my buttocks. Your lips, wet with saliva, then my
discharge as I came. You could have bitten me. What would have happened
if you had? I kept your head trapped there, savoring the warmth of your
breath. Each exhalation like a liquid volcano, searing me through the
cleft of my mound, teasing the hairs below my stomach.

Maybe it was that unexpected heat. Like putting your hand into a bowl
of warm water. Only a slight relaxation was necessary, and I was pissing
onto your face. You choked, tried to spit, and finally could do nothing
but swallow. The position was awkward for you. To your credit, you
realized that the best thing to do was to clamp your mouth over my pussy
and accept what you had coming to you. I never said you weren't smart.

Too soon, too soon, it was finished. I could have let you go. Instead,
I pressed down onto your mouth, and put my hand over your nose. I waited
long enough to be sure you were unconscious, then got up. I put you into
my bed, tying you to the frame with sheets stripped and shredded. From
then on, there would be no other women to share you with. Over time, I
think you've come to accept your new place in my life. The wedding ring I
picked out looks good on your hand. I only wear mine at home. I still
cook for you and try to be a good wife. Better, perhaps, than you deserve.

He looked out at the ocean and saw the endless blue ocean meeting a colorful sky, and he saw some birds flying toward the slowly setting sun. The birds became specks of black against the sun and the sun kept shining beautiful orange and the world seemed to be an immense watercolor for just a moment. Then he went from the window and returned to the bedroom.

His mistress smiled and sighed. He always got this way before. He stood there naked contemplating things. She wondered if he considered leaving his wife, or if he considered leaving her. She would have to make sure he wouldn't. She moved off of the bed and held eye contact with him. Their eyes radiated lust to each other, and perhaps somewhere hidden away love.

She wanted him. He looked like a greek god statue turned human. His skin color being almost olive and nearly perfect. His jaw was firm and his nose large and crooked a little. He had a handsome face and an even more handsome smile. His hair was dark brown and his eyes darker brown. His body was built and powerful. Not like hers which was lithe, but wiry strength could be seen in her arms and her legs. She had black hair. Short. Sexy. She had green eyes. Almost neon green. And full lips that were perpetually red and slightly moist. And her legs (her favorite feature and his favorite) drew stares from both sexes.

They stared at each other, naked, taking it all in. His penis suddenly grew and almost doubled in size. He had been staring at her trimmed area near her vagina and he saw the needing, hungry look on her face. She needed to fuck him. He needed her too.

>>2093031
>>2093031
Quickly he moved over to her and grabbed her by her arms and threw her to the bed. She fell face first into the covers and he came in from behind her and pushed her down into the bed. She struggled and turned onto her back. He moved in closer and held her hands down and forced himself into her open legs. Her legs kicked and she started to shout obscenities. He used his left hand to hold her arms down and with his right he began to pull her hair. She wouldn't stop screaming. He worried about the noise. Worried it may attract attention. He then slapped her.

He slapped her hard enough to make her bleed from the corner of her mouth. She smiled a little and he did it again. Harder this time. Her face turned red and her mouth bled some more. He grabbed her and spoke, “You scream and I'll fucking do it again.” Without hesitation she screamed. Without hesitation he raised his arm back, made a fist this time, and then hit her with all he could. Blood went all over the whites.

She didn't struggle after that. She didn't move much. He then opened up her legs and inserted his dick into her wet pussy. He inserted hard, and she moaned and stayed limp on the bed while he fucked her. His wife would never let him do this. Humiliate her like this. Fuck her and not care if she enjoyed it or if she got off. His mistress would let him do anything. Anything so he could get off.

He smiled and moved the girl's head to face him. “Is this good?” He asked. She nodded and closed her eyes. He lightly slapped her face and told her he was going to choke her. She smiled slightly and nodded slightly. He then took his hands and held her throat in them. He started to choke her. He started to choke the life out of her.

>>2093033
She didn't struggle at first. He had hit her before and she had always gotten off on it. But, he had never choked her. She enjoyed it at first. In fact, even when she thought she lost all control and he wouldn't let up and she felt like she was dying she felt like this was the best sex of her life. She loved the agony and feared the outcome. She began to struggle.
He enjoyed it more than he thought he would. She took it at first and he didn't really seem to care. But when she fought against him his grip tightened. He felt ready to come inside her and he held it off as best as he could. Her face lost it's color and his back felt her nails dig into them. She became a perfect pale in the face and when her struggling stopped and her eyes closed and she looked more dead than human he let up.

Fear spread throughout his soul. He waited. He shook her. He waited and waited and worry set in and he knew he'd have to leave or get rid of her and then she woke up out it. She came as she did and her legs twitching and her arching back made his fears disappear and his penis harder and he fucked her and came into her. They came together as the sun disappeared and the stars shone brighter. The ocean became an endless black.

There's a certain similarity to the themes being explored here, besides just the sex.

wtf /lit/

The last story needs some serious revision.

the one I wrote is over here btw
http://deadheadmiles.blogspot.com/2011/09/pieces-and-parts.html

I'm still working on organization.

>>2093033
>He inserted his dick into her wet pussy. He inserted it hard.

that's some beautiful prose there brah

"Hodor." Said Hodor.

The end.

>>2093116

Bumping a pretty ok thread.

HE GENTLY RAPED HER TEAR-STAINED FACE ETC.

http://www.theaprilreader.org/TAR.Issue.4.Print.pdf

The Adventures of Boris the Tenticle Monster for your amusement. Oh and Parrot Porn.

i don't even read the words I just find the thought of some shared horny conscious very erotic.

The gentle scent of faded lavender embraces you as she opens the cherry oak door.
It's a bitter-cold December night and you feel the chill of winter's snow bite into your ears - but you don't mind it that much.
The porch-light illuminates your form and your breath swirls in a mist above you as you smile.
She beckons you in with her own smile; this one unmatched in warmth. It tickles the back of your neck in a way that the sleet and snow that assaulted you in the short walk to her veranda cannot.
You cannot help but flash a small grin back as you step through the crimson doorway and kiss her on her light-skinned cheek softly, asking after hers and her own.
You catch a scent of an exotic perfume radiating off her slowly and you almost forget to pull yourself away as you become lost in the intoxicating aroma of wildflowers that makes your heart skip a beat.
Before you can prevent yourself, you look her once-over quickly, before catching yourself. "You look gorgeous!", you say - and although you were merely covering for your mistake, you know this statement to be spoken truly. So does she.
Her feet are clad in slender, pale gray high-heels. Beginning at her knees, a soft and sophisticated dress of white and grey hangs loosely from two shoulder-straps. Her hair is untied, which takes you aback - when you see her working, it's always tied back, but she seems so much more relaxed tonight - In control, not like any of your previous encounters.
The soft light of the porch lamp throws a wave of light over it - a golden-red, perfectly straight sea, lightly scented. Her emerald-green eyes fix upon your own only briefly, but the gaze feels unmeasurable in time.

You feel the winter leave you as she shuts the door behind you, the gentle warmth of her house embracing you. You relax your sholders somewhat as you find her taking your chilled hand in her own and leading you from the door down a softly-lit corridor. Dimmed lamps and chandeliers light your way, illuminating the polished oaken floor, laid over with deep red and black persian carpets of intricate design.
You can smell a deep scent - nothing you can place your mind on, though. It dances and you flair your nostrils as you take a breath. You follow your own arm willingly, the appendage seemingly having become its own seperate entity. As you gaze around at the preparations she has made - deep rose curtains drawn, with a small fire crackling in a hearth illuminating a set of deep red chairs, you are somewhat dazzled.
The thought she might have done it just for you tickles you pink and gives your already-weary heart another jump.
As you enter into her brightly-lit kitchen she asks after you and yours. You mumble a general answer, your eyes taking in her delicate and soft form as she walks around the marble-topped kitchen bench.
From a small oak drawer, she produces a small corkscrew and hands it to you. You stare blankly for a moment, and she giggles.
It's only just now you realise that the bitter cold in your right hand is not neccessarily a result of the frosty weather, but an expensive bottle of wine - hand-picked from her family's personal range.
Feeling sheepish you take it from her and drive the screw home before releasing it with a soft pop.
A gentle wisp of mist puffs from the lip of the bottle as you pour the sparkling wine into two immaculate crystal wine glasses.

You move back towards the door and into the lounge, where you drink through hours and glasses. Slowly you relax. You were nervous - incredibly nervous - but her beauty and charms, the warmth and gentle scents of her house and her person have lulled you into a deep and relaxing happiness.
You cannot help but remain fixed on every word that eminates from her smooth lips. You drink it in like you drink the wine as you smile and blink softly as she regales you with another story of her past.
As she finishes, there's a brief moment of silence. The wind outside pushes softly on the glass - the soundless snow landing on the sil, a perfect white to match the perfect black of the darkness outside.
The fire echoes its endless tune of gentle snaps, and for the moment you believe you're the king of the world as you remain locked in her ever-piercing gaze. You feel your empirical crown slip away, however, as she leans forward and gently, softly, longingly kisses you. She pulls back for a second, worried. You see her lips forming an apology and you swiftly lean forward and kiss her back, the wine in your blood steeling your nerves and resolve. And finally, you are lost in her beauty.
You pull away and see an inexplicable grin form over her face - was she perhaps as nervous as you had been? She had talked a lot, and as down-to-earth as she seemed, perhaps behind her radiance there was a spark of nervousness.
She kisses you again and runs her hands gently down your clothed chest. You pull her closer and she gasps a little as you run your hands firmly over the small of her back.

>haven't finished yet
am I going ok so far?

A longish, silly, amateurish story I wrote. excerpt below, first chapter here; http://pastebin.com/6QfsXXfu

I could feel myself getting excited. My nipples were hardening and a
familiar warmth was spreading through my lower body. It felt good to let
myself feel anger. Ortiz, for his part, looked like you could knock him
over with a feather. He didn't know what to do. His eyes kept focusing on
my naked upper body and there was a pronounced bulge under the line of his
pants, while I'm sure he must have been thinking something along the lines
of `Oh shit!'. I put my hand onto his face, softly this time. Caressing
the place I'd just struck.

"We need to do something for your daughter ortiz. That poor girl. I like her,
and I believe we could be friends. But she's terribly upset about what
having me here means for her relationship with you. The three of us could
be happy. VERY happy. But you need to help her adjust."

As I spoke, I moved my hand down, trailing it over his chest and stomach
until it rested lightly on the fly of his pants. I began stroking him
through the fabric. Looking him in the eyes as I did so. I leaned forward
slightly so that he could take my nipple into his mouth. I let him suckle
at my breast for a time, feeling a delightful sense of control. He was my
little baby, and I was going to bring him up right.

>>2093228
Not gonna lie. It's bad. Not sure it can be fixed either.

>>2093244
oh well, first attempts are often bad

list your criticisms and I'll try to work on them.

>>2093248
See all those adjectives? Stop it.

>>2093252
how dare you question my childish amateurish attempt at descriptive writing?

but seriously, what do you do. write me a paragraph, I want to see how you're supposed to immerse people in writing.

She fucked him in the arsehole with a knife and he loved it. The first cut wasn't the hardest, or the easiest, but it changed everything. The hardest part was forcing the parrot inside him tail first.

>>2093260
>Ask question
>No response
well alright then, back to my writing

>>2093284
Not that anon, but if you carry on writing please do not be doing that with the adjectives. The adverbs can go too, although there's not as many of them.

Hammer Smashed Face.

I paced back and forward, leering down at her petite and tied body. The delicate skin of the girl reflected pale white light streaming into the shed. Every now and then, a slight groan would escape her lips, unaware of the plan I had waiting for her. "Wake up, slut" I said, slapping her forcefully across the face. You could hear the sound of it a mile off, and the crimson mark it left had my body craving for pleasure. She struggled with much effort to get the tight rope from her wrists, chafing chunks of skin off in the process. "Wake up!" I said louder, laying into her cheekbone with the back of my knuckles. She looked to be on the verge of blacking out as blood trickled quickly down her lip. Her knees were bloodied from kneeling on the concrete floor, tied up like a dog. She looked up to me with sad eyes, and I grinned in satisfaction. Upon the table next to me lay a few diffirent items for the torture. My hand hovered over various objects before stopping at a large steel blowtorch. "Please... please don't hurt me.." The slut pleaded, before pissing all over my floor. Putrid urine now covered the area around her before stopping at my boots. "Now you've gone and messed up my shed, I'll have to make you pay for this". With the blowtorch gripped in my hand, I ignited the flame with a box of matches. I threw the empty box on the floor and moved the blowtorch slowly over to her thigh. As the flame neared, it started to singe her subtle skin. "Please!" She cried
in agony, as the heat began the melt the skin into a bubbling cyst.

Part 1?

>>2093292
Please don't.

i wrote some stuff on 99chan's elit board a while back. most of it no one liked due to the theme (fem-dom) but one story they liked and it felt good. thing about erotica is it's too embarrassing to put your name on it, but as an anon writer the praise you get is small time.

by the way, what is everyone's goal when writing erotica? to write with some eroticism in it, or to make sure whoever reads it gets off? i write for the latter, myself.

>>2093292
>Putrid urine

Dude, urine can't, y'know, putrefy.

>>2093294
>>2093303
>>2093304

Awesome, Part 2

A large pool of pus began to drip onto the floor, as the flame had melted deep into her leg. There was then no sound except the boiling of flesh. My cock had now became hard as I fumbled around with it in my pants "Your body is so much better now" I whispered under my breath. Panting, I tried to regain my calm during this feeling of power. It didn't take long before I'd taken of my leather belt and unbuttoned my jeans. They were now in a heap on the floor next to me. Kneeling down into the large puddle of urine and blood, I gripped my cock in hand and began to slide it into the wound. Blood and pus now covered the head, her
cries of pain were now just a humiliated wimper. I thrusted my shaft deep into the wound, blood leeking out as a form of lubrication. Her crumpled body, bloodied and bound had gone fully limp. The pain must have been too much for her. My hand gripped around her delicate hair, now fucking that mess of a thigh until a gaping hole had been created. I stood up and looked down at her petite face, with no remorce and only the feeling of pure extacy. That face was so perfect, such beatiful features. In my sexual rage I couldn't stand looking at it. Reaching for my jeans and feeling around the pockets, I pulled out a sharp knife. "You'll look so beutiful" I promiced her unconcious body.

All of these are embarrassingly obviously written by men.

Boys, really. Except this;
>>2092897

>>2093324
that's my favorite.

>>2093301
I'm more crazy about erotic thrillers, basically porn with a plot and tons of tension. Sometimes the tension is sexier and hotter than the actual sex.

Alice stepped into her quarters. The dimmed lights came on automatically and she didn't bother turning on the brighter ones. She had no plans for being productive tonight, still numb from the incident on the third deck. She passed her charge station and headed to her personal washroom.
She turned on the cold water and stood underneath it. It slid down her frame, washing over curves of metal plating and slipping into crevices and joints. The water hit her interface panel and hissed, steam rushing into the air. She braced her hands on the wall, still feeling like she was smoldering inside. A douse of cold water had helped her endless times over the decades, but today the ache was stronger than ever. She touched the panel with apprehension. Maturing androids were given an educational course on how to deal with these things, but she had been pulled out of her education early.

>>2093580
Everything had gotten turned around on the third deck, and Slider’s abrupt departure left Alice crushed. Her balanced world was turned over and left upside down, and here she was angry and overheated. With frustration she determinately willed her front interface panel to open. The metal slid apart. She pressed her digits against it, looking at the purple glow lines that matched the markings over her form. None of her lovers had even bothered to open her front panel and look at her. Unsure what to do, she slid her palm forward and back, and she knew she was doing something right. She pushed her digits inside and pulled out, pushing in a little deeper. The slight pressure sent fuel rushing through her system.
She closed her visuals and imagined that Slider was there, smirking at her beneath the rushing water, droplets beading over his black frame. Slider replaced Alice's hand with his own, ghosting over her input valve with the lightest pressure that sent tremors over her. Alice felt humiliated by her own processor coming up with such things, but the more she thought of Slider the harder it was to resist. There was an ache in her valve despite the discomfort she had felt in the past. She wanted Slider to take whatever he wished, to look at her and fill her and do whatever his smile kept promising. She imagined Slider pressing into her, pushing inside and rubbing against her sensitive walls. Lubricant dripped down her thigh and her knee joints bent; desire so strong she wasn't sure what to do next.

>>2093582
A frantic knock at the door froze her, and she immediately closed her panels, rubbing a sponge down her thigh to wash off the lubricant. It had to be an emergency. She grabbed a cloth, still embarrassed about what she had done. There was a rap at the door again, and she rushed to see who needed her.

fin

bump for more

Beneath a cruel tropical moon, the swarthy savage peeled apart the sweaty, trembling buttcheeks of the missionary's wife. She protested, but soon her ruptured colon was disgorging a noxious slurry of blood and dung as he thrust unmercifully, turning his thick and wiry pubic bush into a veritable Sargasso of her internal fluids.

>>2094214
ooh nasty.

>>2094214

En route home from the plantation, the missionary heard a shrill cry coming from the banana grove. "Could it be...?" he thought. "That sounds like my Elsie!" He left the road and cautiously approached the treeline. What he saw appalled him; his dear wife, suffering anal defilement without surcease at the merciless hands of a scowling, dusky behemoth. And yet a strange sensation overtook him; in his trousers he felt an unfamiliar stirring as his normally limp manhood sputtered to life. Soon he was harder than the heartwood of a teak tree, and he could not take his eyes from the scene of violation unfolding before him. His face hot with passion, he leapt from the jungle shadows into the bright firelight, crying "do me next!" as he pulled frantically at his engorged log.

>>2094292
ignoring how a missionary got a wife.
Why is it that liberals have this sick infatuation with being cuckolded by niggers? Have you been castrated or something?

>>2094295

The Stormfront troll hunched over his computer, a liter bottle of Diet Coke clenched in his fist as he seethed with rage at the race-mixing denizens of /lit/. "Reply," he clicked, preparing to unleash yet another furious missive in his one-man war, his unrelenting battle to stave off the coming Ragnarok of the white races.

A knock sounded at his door. A few seconds later came another. "Did I order pizza from Seamlessweb?" he pondered. "With some of those cinnamon buns?" The empty boxes surrounding his computer desk suggested a recent binge, but he couldn't remember whether he was hungry again. The knock came a third time. He opened the door.

"Home invasion, nigga!" He caught a momentary glimpse of a black fist before crumpling to the floor in a heap. He tried to lift himself, but his physique, flabby and shapeless from endless nights spent trolling the Internet, was no longer up to the task. He heard the opening of a zipper and turned to see an enormous black shaft looming above him. "My name's DeVaughn, cracker," said his assailant. "And this is my man El-Rashad." A second Negro, his beastly black penile behemoth even larger than the first, stood running an Afro pick through his immense orb of kinky ebony hair. He pulled it out and shoved it in the Stormfronter's face. Its teeth were sharp, its edges sharper; clearly it served double duty as some sort of savage ghetto weapon.

"Mein Fuhrer! I will not fail you!" thought the troll to himself as he prepared to lift himself up and fight like a whiteman. His hand slipped on Dorito grease, however, and he landed face-down in a pile of his own semen-stained kleenex tissues. Behind him he heard a shrill, malevolent voice. "Very good, boys!" it trilled in a nasal Long Island accent. "This goy is about to get a taste of some real punishment." He heard the sound of a power drill being revved up and began to weep onto the already filthy floor...

>>2094338
I buy coke imported from mexico, made with real sugar.

fix ur story.