Naughty Reading

December 9, 2017

This one might have confused Simone de Beauvoir…?

something not quite right

September 8, 2017

8 th September

Evening peels the clothes from women’s bodies
until at last their soul’s revealed
the smile locked up inside
Clothed a dream dangles from a hanger
Lips whisper in the shadows
Hands slide from walls
and entwine at the ankles of desire
while the evening uninvites
the thorns of the day


There’s something terribly onanistic about the act of creative writing (creative anything, in truth!). At best it’s hard. But if you are forced to it for survivals sake, if it’s not something you WANT to do in the first place, then that certainly defines hell on earth.


Her hands are cold
and she smells, not of talc,
but of something not quite right.
She pulls me against her beads,
hugs me for ages,
then stares her lilac eyes
straight in my face.

These creatures, once women, perhaps, dance on the moor at night. They tempt the careless traveler: the backpacker camping for the night, the loving couple exchanging caresses near the stream – all are potential prey! They have no fear, these night things, and will plunge into the abyss without thought. They can transform themselves into night birds and fly back out again or cross the dimensions if they so wish.

Their smiles are deadly.

And from their icy gaze there is no escape –

Book of the Day

May 13, 2017

All the way up him

April 1, 2017

I pull the giant strap-on cock out of him. Sitting back I examine his shiny, gaping hole… then I slide in two gloved fingers and I twist them around inside him. His ass tightens around them. I finger fuck him as my other gloved hand grabs his rock-hard cock, and I just squeeze it at the base and slide my open palm along the underside of his cock, wrapping my whole hand around the head after a few minutes.

“Oh god, oh fuck. You’re gonna make me cum. I’m gonna cum…”

“No, I’m NOT, and NO YOU WON’T! You do NOT come until I say you can! Understood!?”

I stop teasing his swollen cock. He’s close to orgasm. I pull my fingers from his asshole. I blow cold air onto his asshole with my mouth, then gather saliva and spit on his ass cheeks. I take my left hand and wrap it around his waist, while I rub my spit evenly in a circle with my right hand. I spank him as hard as I can on both cheeks and he jumps in surprise and pain.

“There! That should bring you back to me, you selfish fuck! Who do you think you are? You don’t cum when YOU want to, you ungrateful little tosser. This is MY time, and you’re MY fuckhole, bitch. MY cock, MY toy! DO you UNDERSTAND ME?!

His face is now buried in the sheets. I just sit there, letting his cock go soft again, in silence.

Then I rub my fingers on his asshole again and loosen him back up, getting him back into wanting. I slowly slide my thumb inside his hole and pull it to the side… then I slide in my other thumb and I pull him apart as slowly and as far as I can. I watch him open up again. I pull my thumbs even further apart. I know it hurts him.

“Bear down! Push out for me, you little whore…I wanna see inside you. That’s right.. push as if you’re taking a shit. There you go……. Oh yeah! Good boy.”

He’s grunting in between holding his breath, as he’s pushing as hard as he can while I open him up so I can literally see inside his now gaping hole.

He moans an ‘Oooww god’ as I stretch him out.

I move around by his head, my knees on the floor now, so I’m eye-level with him, and I take off my gloves. His head is face down in the sheets, he’s breathing heavy and sweating, so I lift his head gently and stroke his hair and face, and he looks into my eyes with adoration.

I kiss his sweaty cheeks, as he closes his eyes and I kiss his eyelids, barely touching them. He moans with anticipation and pleasure, as I rub his lower lip with my thumb, gently and lovingly, him kissing my fingers as I move my hand. I rub his upper back with my hand, going back to his neck and squeezing it as i lean my face into his ear and breathe.

He tries to kiss and nuzzle his face on any part of my body he can touch (which is mainly my arms). He knows NOT to ever try to kiss or touch my face, unless I explicitly tell him he can. I tell him to get up on all fours, and he does. I kneel up straight, and we’re now face to face. I give him a smile and stroke his hair again, and put his chin up to kiss his nose and then I kiss his open mouth – EVER SO GENTLY and slowly. He remains still, his breathing getting deeper now.

I hold his face in both my hands and study his entire face. He really is adorable, and I really love our interaction, his body, his baby-face, perfect teeth, lovely cock and adoring yearning for me. But I certainly can’t let him know how yummy I find him, so I now just kiss him fully on the mouth, my hands moving up and onto his hair again, to grab fists of it in my grasp as we kiss each other passionately. Once he knew it was ok to reciprocate, his tongue entered my mouth; our breathing deepened, and I was more than ready to open this sweet young pet up again. I left the kiss with my tongue lapping his lower lip in one sweep, my pussy as slippery as ever, and soaking through my panties for sure. He let his head hang when I pulled back, keeping his eyes closed. I moved behind him on the bed…my hand never leaving his back, never breaking contact with him.

I grab some more lube and drip it all over my 12″ flesh-coloured rubber cock. Then over his ass crack. I lean over and kiss his lower back along the spine, laying my cheek on his skin for a few seconds. I can feel him arch like a cat and moan quietly whenever I touch him. He lifts his head now, as I press my cock up against his assflesh and wait. He’s panting, I’m waiting, not moving.

Then, as anticipated, he starts to grind his hips once again, his cock growing while he moves himself back into me. I take my hands and put them on his ass cheeks and spread them wide. I LOVE the feel of the ‘pop’ when my massive cock head breaks through his tight little sphincter. He moans low in pleasure / pain. Then I feel it when the cock head reaches that ‘second sphincter’, the one deep inside where the depths of his bowels awaken. He moans differently now. I’m literally straightening his colon, his prostate swollen and everything raw and ready. There is NOTHING like this.

I bite my lower lip, grab his hips and lean over him, much more intimate than before. This time will be fast and hard…this time will wear out his hole and hurt my knees. He knows this, and can’t wait. Fuck, he’s adorable.

Good advice

March 5, 2017



Diary 27th November

Sunday. Up before the lark. Cold and dark, but no rain. The wind seems to have let up somewhat, which is a small blessing. To the pub, later, after a soggy walk across the moor. Drunkenness is its own consolation…


Yesterday she said, ‘Why on earth did Aliester Crowley put that “K” on the end of magic, Peedeel?’

‘His motives were sexual,’ I replied, my attention mainly devoted to stroking the cat on my lap.

‘Of course,’ Jay-Jay said. ‘Typical Peedeel answer. It’s all about sex…’

‘Crowley needed to differentiate his brand of magic from the popular stage magic of the day. To the forefront of his mind was the initiation of all those nice boys and their virile penises. He had a vigorous sex life as a young man. Indulged himself with multitudinous street prostitutes. But, perhaps, inevitably, he eventually extended his sexual range to include homosexuality. Crowley liked best the passive role in these practices. Throughout his life he took part in the rituals of sex magic…or sex magick, if you prefer.

‘Crowley initially took the word magick from a translation of Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa’s “De occulta philosophia libri tres”. He liked that ‘K’ because it is the eleventh letter of a number of alphabets. And eleven is a magical number, a power number attributed to the Qliphoth. More than that, however, it stands for Kteis, the vagina, counterpart to the magician’s wand or phallus. So, you see, it is very sexual…’


A number of countries have experienced declining birth rates over the past decade. So much so that their death rates exceeded their birth rates. Germany, for example. Canada, too. Both of these countries, consequently, have opened the door to widespread immigration and their populations are now growing.

Japan, however, poor overcrowded Japan, has witnessed a huge decline in births, well under the number of deaths. And there’s no solution in sight for this problem. The Japanese hate the idea of ‘immigration’ (who does that remind you of, boys and girls?). In fact, to generalise, they hate foreigners. Traditionally it was believed in Japan that to be truly accepted in their society, one must have the blood (Japanese blood), the Japanese language, and be from Japan. It is practically impossible for a foreigner to follow the social protocols that exist throughout every level of Japanese society. Even the Japanese word for foreigner, “gaijin”, once carried the connotation of “barbarian”.

So Japan has fewer and fewer young people, but a substantial elderly population that ultimately will have no one to look after it. I suspect that Japan, and to an extent China, with their anti-immigration policies, will probably experience a shit-storm of biblical proportions before the end of this century, unless, of course, their attitudes change to immigration and outsiders.

As for the UK with its armies of ‘little Englanders’ and ‘little Scotlanders’ what can I say? We are all brothers under the skin…

And in the US? Well, they don’t have a declining birth rate, not yet. But they do have a downer on immigrants (foreigners), and apparently wish to build walls between themselves and their neighbours. Before too long, alas, they will learn those walls will make a prison from which there’ll be no easy escape; such walls will simply compound many of the ills besetting that country.


And Caitlín R. Kiernan posted on Facebook the other day:

‘I think that tonight I am at the lowest point I’ve been since election night. I cannot imagine a way forward. I’m more than half a century old, and never in my life has our country faced such a crisis. Ignorance, stupidity, prejudice, fear, greed, selfishness, and cynicism have won out. The lessons of the American Civil War, two world wars, the Holocaust, the Cold War, and the American Civil Rights Movement have been forgotten. We’ve allowed a grotesque billionaire clown to seize the highest office in the free world, and he’s building an administration of monstrosities. This is not business as usual. This is not Nixon, Reagan, George Bush, or W. Bush. This is not normal. Across Europe and America, populism and fascism are again on the rise – and winning. And the truth is I don’t have hope. This is so much bigger than so many seem to comprehend. Tonight, I am only afraid and exhausted and horrified.’

As are all “thinking” human beings.

nibble on the necks…

October 11, 2016

Vampires, real vampires, didn’t nibble on the necks of nubile young virgins. They tore people to pieces and sucked the blood out of the chunks.

David Wellington
99 Coffins



Tripping and stumbling over dead bodies and writhing wounded they literally hacked their way through the mass of short, naked, stinking, grey-white people.

Dennis Wheatley
They Found Atlantis