Thursday, November 16

Author M.A.Stiles

As a girl with a spanking fetish, and as an amateur spanking author myself, I like to read other author's work for both thrills and for inspiration to improve my writing. I recently came across the work of M A Stiles. I really enjoyed one of his books (i.e., I masturbated to it, in several different places!), so I thought I would share. I reached out to Mr. Stiles via his author's page on Kindle and he gave me permission and graciously allowed me to interview him by email. Many of the words in the below are his own from his responses...

Here is one of his many books, and the particular book in question.

HAPPY VALLEY FARMS
A story of Domestic Discipline Out in the Country
1950
M A STILES
(link to the book on amazon.com)

This one has 112 ratings and averages out at  3.9/5.0 which is really good! He currently has 14 titles on Kindle, including a part 2 of this book. I also learned that he has been publishing spanking stories for years, even before the Internet, but more on that later.

Mr. Stiles' books feature young ladies being spanked. Sometimes they are teenagers, sometimes they are regressed to that age. Sometimes it's also the wives being spanked, in which case something else sometimes comes afterwards! However, Mr. Stiles is not afraid to mix in a few references to males being spanked as well.

As the title implies, this book is set in the 1950's in the country on a farm. The father is Al Halstead. He has a wife, Betty, and three girls Nancy, Polly, and Janie. He also has a brother Dan and a niece Callie.

Mr. Stiles explains his fascination with that period.

Many of my stories take place well in the past. Some of them go back to the 1920's but most of them take place in the World War years, between the World Wars, and soon after those years, say...the 1950's. I do that because I was growing up in the 1950's and then became a 'child of the 60's' when the social tumult took place, i.e., social reorganization, the rise of individuality, the empowerment of women, the throwing away of the old-fashioned values. I felt...and feel...as though the 1950's was that last great 'stronghold' of domestic discipline, when families were more 'nuclear' with a strong, loving, but strict father, a somewhat submissive or 'secondary' power in the family in the form of the mother, and children who had been raised with the iconic 'should be seen and not heard' lifestyle. I imagine such families as having spanking as the core punishment for wrongdoing, before 'time-outs' and the removal of privileges and such...the Dr. Spock approach...became the standard of discipline in families. I personally knew quite a few kids, boys and girls, who were spanked when they misbehaved, such were the times before the aforementioned changes in family discipline took place.

It's also interesting to note that my biggest selling books are the ones that take place in the time frames noted above. I have no survey as to why, of course, but I think it's because many people agree with me about the time frame when spanking was acceptable...before it became unacceptable. The women I have known who crave spankings...the ones who crave spankings as discipline, that is...almost always think of the spankings from a family point of view. One need only look into Fetlife to find many women who crave a 'daddy', though they are probably not thinking of their own fathers, but instead a father figure whom they can call 'daddy'. The days when a family's father took daughters over their knee, pulled down their pants and underpants, and administered a stern, stinging spanking on the miscreant's bare behind seem to have ended long ago but today's 'Spanko' women, many of them anyway, still want that family 'feel'. That 'feel' is the discipline, driven by love but also by a strict set of rules that manifested itself in being put over daddy's or mommy's knee when misbehavior took place. Family honor in small towns was important. A dad and mom didn't want their daughters being thought of as 'wild' or undisciplined so misbehavior was corrected by physical and mental anguish, over the knee, with a hairbrush (my personal favorite), and embarrassingly and most painfully on the bare behind. A girl in grade school or high school might try to hide the fact that she got spanked at home but usually failed. And most girls indeed did get their behinds blistered in those 'good old days' before Dr. Spock ruined society.  

LOL...I'll climb down from my soap box now.

Yes, we all know about the abuses that happened when men were drunk and evil, but when Daddy was strong and good... ahhhhh! Let's not throw out the baby with the bath water!

The book starts with Polly in the woodshed getting a good old-fashioned strapping with a well-oiled razor strap (some call it a "strop", but I personally love the word "strap" and all it's disciplinary connotations). Al had put up a sawhorse with a half-log on top and layers of burlap sacks. The height was such that neither the unfortunate girl's hands nor feet would be touching the floor. Her dress was tucked up in back, and her panties well-lowered. A woodshed strapping was rarely given, so being sentenced to one struck fear in the girls' hearts and bottoms.

Polly had disgraced the family be being caught in town with a boy's hand on her butt. In small-town 1950s, gossip spread fast, and something like this could ruin a girl's reputation. Al took decisive action as a result.

Here's some of Mr. Stiles' prose:

Polly’s own, pretty cotton dress was pulled up in the rear and tucked into her bra strap.  Her panties had been pulled down to her mid-thighs.  And poor Polly was currently kicking and squalling, writhing and squealing, atop the burlap sacks, because her daddy was firmly and determinedly in the process of fairly blistering her pretty, bare behind with his slick, black, oily razor strap.
Oh, geeze - I can picture myself there due to Mr. Stiles' words! (And did).

A razor strapping in the woodshed left a girl, or a woman, unable to sit, stand or even walk without discomfort for at least a day or two.  Even several days after such a punishment, a Halstead female might be seen wincing whenever she sat or stood up, such was the residual soreness left by the supple, stinging strap when put to use on a bare, female posterior by Al Halstead.

"A Halstead female", what a turn of phrase! When a girl is naughty, she is dealt with, just like the well-tended livestock on the farm is dealt with

"You will NOT allow yourself to be seen in public with a boy's hand on your backside, Polly!" Al roared, then swung the strap again.

SMACK!  The strap found Polly's far cheek and wrapped around a little to her flank.

"OWWWeeeee!  NO, Daddy, I won’t I promise!" she cried, tears flying about her face.

"I'll blister your little fanny if you do it again, Polly!" Al roared again, his voice carrying out into the back yard of the farmhouse, followed by another sharp, unmistakable sound of pliable leather smacking down onto uncovered, female skin.

CRACK!

"OOHHHHH, DADDEEEEEE!  OWWWWWW!  I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be goooood,” Polly hollered as the oil-slick strap did what it did best, sizzle defenseless girlflesh with a loud, wet-sounding snap.

Al was most concerned with family honor, especially where girls were concerned, and Polly was learning, in no uncertain terms, that good-girl comportment was not only expected, it was demanded.

Isn't that just what it's all about, though? Girls who misbehave get punished by Daddy.

The way the story is told is that throughout the strapping there are flashbacks to many years ago, to the incident itself, and to other things. So it's not told in a linear manner, but the strapping is used to tie things together, which I enjoyed and thought was a good literary device.

The story takes a twist when it turns out that Betty, Al's wife, knew about the incident before Al did and didn't tell him. He only learned from a concerned woman who had witnessed it. As a result, Betty would have to suffer a trip to the woodshed after Polly is done.

Al towed Betty over to where the woodshed stood, dark and foreboding in the dim light.  She gasped as Al spun her around and then pulled up the hem of her thin, patterned, cotton dress in the rear and tucked it into the back of her bra.  He then pushed, her, not gently but also not roughly, over the stack of gunny sacks that sat atop the sawhorse.  She felt her feet leave the ground and she reached down with her hands to grab the diagonal legs of the sawhorse. Next, she felt those long, calloused fingers of his enter the waistband of her thin, cotton underpants and, somewhat roughly, jerk them down to her mid-thigh.  She turned her head to see what was going on, only to close them again, in fright, as she saw him dripping thin, colorless oil onto the two wide sides of the strap.  Opening her eyes again, unable to resist watching Al prepared the strap for her whippin', she watched him spread the oil around on the leather with his fingertips.  She groaned and shuddered.  She was helplessly dangling, with neither her feet nor her hands able to touch the floor, over the sawhorse with her dress turned up and her panties pulled down, inside out, to her thighs.  And her husband was oiling up a nasty, slick, stinging razor strap in preparation for using it to punish her, to turn her upturned, bare behind to the color of a deep sunset.  She began to silently sob.  And rightfully so, as it turned out. 

Mr. Stiles is criticized in the comments for being repetitive. Yes, it's true, but I think of it more like hypnosis. Hypnosis is very repetitive. As I read I get the same phrases drummed into my brain (and my bottom, and my pussy) over and over again. Whenever I'm about to be spanked for real, as punishment, the same thoughts circulate repeatedly in my skull: "I'm going to be spanked", "my panties will be taken down", "I'm getting the strap!", "on my bare bottom". Over and over those phrases will repeat on loop in my brain. That's the same sense I get as I read Mr. Stiles' work.

It's also clear that some of Mr. Stiles' particular fetishes shine through. If Mr. Stiles is going to give you a strapping in the woodshed, your dress will be tucked up into your bra strap!

The aftermath too is a work of art:

Finally, seeing that his wife’s bare backside was completely covered with dark, longitudinal, red marks,shining brightly from the strap oil left on her skin, reflecting in the overhead light, he stopped swinging the razor strap and, turning, calmly hung it from its hook on the woodshed wall, concluding his punishment of his beloved, but naughty wife.

Betty, though, was far from a conclusion of her punishment.  Her punishment thundered on as the skin of her posterior fairly sizzled as it broiled from the residual leavings of the razor strap’s visitations.  She hoarsely howled to the heavens and her legs continued to kick and scissor.  Her hands, too, left the legs of the sawhorse and waved in the air.  She twisted and writhed atop the gunny sacks as though her strapping was still continuing, such was the ferocious burn that only a well-oiled razor strap could imbue on the bare, deserving fanny cheeks of a naughty female.  Betty tossed and cried and sobbed and wriggled as the lava-like burning on her behind continued unabated.  Al, having hung the razor strap on the wall, simply stood and watched, with growing libido, as his lovely, beloved, but naughty wife suffered her way through the aftermath of the stern strapping he had just given her.

Oh yes! That's the sort of strapping I want (in theory, if not in practice!). How humiliating to carry on so after a strapping, yet it is what it is.

As I mentioned earlier, the wives are not usually done after the strapping is given. More is demanded of them.

She then submissively walked in front of them, back into the bedroom and, at his nod, climbed onto the bed and positioned herself atop the large, cylindrical bolster that Al had secured there with straps.  Betty moved about atop the bolster until she was 'just so', just the way Al liked her, with her red, strapped posterior in the center of the bolster, legs dangling away, and her upper body flat to the sheet, her behind lewdly separated and open to him. Betty instinctively reached out to put a pillow under her face and then reached again to grab hold of two of the vertical, carved balusters on the headboard.  She arched her back, forcing her behind up, for Al’s pleasure.  She knew that he loved taking her like this and she loved that she could please him in their lovemaking.  And so, she lay, her deeply, reddened, razor-strapped behind, raised up and open to his pleasure, awaiting his further ministrations. 

Oh no! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm going to get a fucking now. Mr. Stiles words have a way of putting me right into the action. Note that it's for his pleasure, not hers. But it gets worse...

Al continued to lave her flaming cheeks with soothing cream as Betty's movements became more and more coital, inviting him to take her as he would.  He had another plan, though.  As Betty continued to slowly writhe atop the bolster, he pushed his index and middle finger into the other jar he had opened, the jar that held the KY jelly.  With a large dollop of KY on his fingers, he waited until Betty had reached the uppermost height of a coital thrust and then reached into her opened valley and touched her wrinkled little rear jewel with the KY jelly. The effect was immediate.  Betty gasped aloud and clenched her rear cheeks, trapping Al’s finger in the deep chasm of her behind.  She held him like that for a long second, then cried out and yawned her bottom open again, and then thrust her hips down onto the bolster.  Betty moaned aloud, knowing now what Al’s intention was with her behind.  He sometimes took her like that, in her behind, and she had mixed emotions about it.

He mostly took her in her behind as an adjunct to a punishment that he had given her.  He knew that being taken in her behind caused Betty to feel ashamed, humiliated, and subservient... submissive... to a higher power, her husband.  And Betty did feel that way but there was also, in the background, a shivery, dark pleasure for her when he was atop her and penetrating her most secret, most mortifying place.  She hated it, liked it/hated it, liked it; she couldn’t make up her mind.  But she did know that, when it began, she felt so dominated, so giving up of all of her that she could only cry as he first entered her.  And so, tonight, she shivered in fear and excited anticipation as Al rubbed the KY jelly onto the wrinkled skin and then penetrated her with his index finger full of jelly, lubing her inside to make his initial thrust into her easier for both of them.  She shuddered and felt tears trickling down her face as Al prepared her for this most debasing, yet darkly thrilling of forms of domination over her. 

Mr. Stiles describes the emotions around being sodomized after and as part of a punishment so very, very well. "She hated it, liked it/hated it, liked it". Having a man's large penis inserted into your tight backdoor for punishment is perhaps the most debasing form of domination a wife must endure. Been there, done that! Betty had to have some "extra motivation" to proceed:

He pushed his hardness against her dimpled opening again, and again he was denied as Betty clenched her fanny cheeks again.  Al, having lost his patience, smacked her hard, twice, once each on each cheek of her red, bruised behind, eliciting a loud, anguished cry from Betty.

"Don't," he said huskily, "don't make me take you back to the woodshed and grace your blistered behind with some more of the razor strap, Young Lady!"

"N-NO!  Al, NO!," she cried aloud.

"I'll do it!" he grunted.  "I'll do it for sure if you don’t open for me, Betty.  I’ll take you out there, bend you over that sawhorse, and take the razor strap to your backside until you say... no... until you holler 'yes'."

"Oh, please, nooooo," she cried, and gave up her struggle.  She pushed her behind back toward him, allowing him to open her, once again, with his finger and thumb, and push his hard penis against her little dimple.  And this time, though he struggled and grunted, he gained entrance to her rear as the head of his hardness disappeared into her.  She grunted and trembled, then sighed and relaxed her bottom, which opened even more to him, and he pushed further.

Betty gasped and grunted and pushed backward, accepting her husband’s demands on her, accepting him into her most private place, shaming her and mortifying her to the point where she buried her face in the pillow and simply endured, accommodating him as she had been taught to do... as he had taught her to do.

Yes! She's been mastered. I've been mastered. 

And so they lay together, as Al slowly and lovingly sodomized his beloved wife, reveling in the extreme tightness of her rear bud, lolling back his head and closing his eyes as she continued to tighten around him.  Slowly, inexorably, he continued to thrust in and out of her, looking lustily down at her marked, punished bottom and his hard penis moving in and out of her.  After several minutes Betty began to mew.  Her hands were still fiercely gripping the sides of her pillow but her voice had changed.  She wanted him now, wanted him to cum in her, cum in her rear opening, deep inside her.

"Al...Al...please," she whimpered.  "P-please cum in me.  Please cum in my behind."

And that’s what Al had been waiting to hear.  He knew that Betty actually craved being fucked in her behind, but she could never admit it and always fought him when he wanted her that way.  But now, after some time of having him thrusting in and out of her, she was craving that special feeling that only having a man cumming in her behind could give her.  It was different, she knew, than vaginal sex.  It was different having a man explode in her nether area.  His cum would feel like boiling lava as it pushed deeply into her.  She would cry out from pleasure, as well as delicious debasement when Al emptied himself into her behind, into her very being.  And now, to her great pleasure and shivery mortification, it was about to happen again.

And it did.  Al could no longer hold back.  Betty’s delicious behind had, as it always did, was causing him to explode.  Muffling his hoarse voice as best he could, he cried out as he erupted into her exquisite tightness, feeling her throb around his shaft, hearing her cry out herself as the lava like heat pulsed into her.  Betty and Al came together, as they usually did when he took her in her rear, both crying out their abject pleasure, both shivering and shuddering in their respective orgasms.   

There's my rape fantasy in a nutshell! Being "forced" to do something sexual with a man against my will, but then having my body betray me and find amazing pleasure in it (did you know that 40% of women fantasize about being raped at least once a month? https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/all-about-sex/201001/womens-rape-fantasies-how-common-what-do-they-mean).

I don't know about cum feeling like "boiling lava" inside my butt, though. Mainly it's just unpleasant and stickey/gooey/gloopy when it works its way out and into my panties. But... artistic liberty. And I never came from just a butt fucking, needed to diddle the 'ol clitty very forcibly. You're such a guy, Mr. Stiles! That's your fantasy, making us gals cum from just your big magic cocks. It's my fantasy too that a man's cock can do that to me, I don't cum at all from pure penetrative sex, more's the shame.

At any rate, just marvelous writing, no?


So, I reached out to Mr. Stiles, as I said. I had to sort of piece together his email address from the clues he left, and hoped I got it right. As I prefaced my email to him,

Hello Mr. Stiles,

I got your email from the "code" on your author's page on Kindle. Very clever! I hope this is the correct email or I will be blushing when some random gentleman writes back!

My name is Julie and I wanted to drop you a little fan mail. I recently discovered you and have been working through your catalog. So far I have particularly liked "Happy Valley Farms: A Story of Domestic Discipline out in the Country 1950". It very much resonates with me!

I thought as maybe a bit of a "treat" for him, and as a reward for making me cum so many times, I would include some photos of my bare bum that would align with his interests. I guess it's the female spanko version of a dick pic. It's so fan-girly and submissivy, isn't it? "Look at me! Look at me!" I'm very ashamed. But, like the gentleman he is, he duly admired my bare bum.

Your pics are breathtaking and I thank you for sending them along.

I described myself and my fetish, and how I like to imagine myself as around 16 years old when receiving my spankings. He replies,

I like to think of your thoughts as you being a 'Middle' in the context of things, i.e., differentiating from the ABDL folks, then the folks who like to imagine themselves, in their mind's eye, a young girl, say, under 11 years old, being spanked...'Littles'. Then there's the 'Middles', say, 12 to 20. I write about both but tend to focus on the Middles. Your favorite noted above, Polly, fits that mold. Of course, adults need 'seeing to' also and so I write some about the moms and aunts and wives.

My writings are all about discipline. I have what Michael Masterson, the video producer, calls a "punishment fetish" and that term fits me well. I love the squealing and kicking and tears and entreaties of a naughty girl or lady over my knee as I warm her naughty behind. That's me in a nutshell.

As aforementioned above, indeed most don't enjoy the pain of a spanking...it's the 'aura' that surrounds a spanking, especially a disciplinary one, that makes it exciting...for both parties involved. And, in reality, like you, most ladies are well behaved so something has to be made up to make the situation disciplinary. On the other hand, though, I've spanked many a lady who was harboring guilt for one thing or another and the spanking helped her to find catharsis and a shedding of the guilt she had been holding inside her. Those spankings are special.

I sent Mr. Stiles a link to my blog when I asked permission to do this review. He said he had visited it from time to time, so that was neat!

As it turns out, Mr. Stiles is currently 76 years old! (Thus triggering my daddy/granddaddy kinks). Oh blush! I sent nudies to grandad! That alone ought to earn me a trip to the woodshed.

Doing my math, it means he was born in 1948. He notes that an advantage of being his age is that he lived through the era in which spankings were commonplace, after WW2 to the 1960s, especially growing up Catholic in a small town in the Midwest. He notes that living in small-town Midwest also helped him with his writing as spankings often took place in the homes on the various blocks where he lived and were discussed openly by parents... and told about blushingly by the recipients. Mr. Stiles reports that he was never spanked himself, but was often threatened with spankings. However, kids on his block got spanked and he often heard them 'getting it' and would talk to them later about it...boys as well as girls.

Mr. Stiles is a retired widower, currently living in North Carolina. He's six feet tall, weight appropriate, with white hair that gives away his status as a Senior Citizen. He can still swing a hairbrush quite well and does so every now and then. He tells me that his age, and the times in which he grew up, have refined his attitude as far as spanking is concerned. Most women in their 40's and 50's can actually think of him as an uncle or daddy or Person of Authority...and that might make their experience all the more satisfying and 'real'. I can certainly relate to that! I was once spanked by an older man and it was thrilling!

His first 'inkling' of a spanking fetish was in third grade. Full realization came a little later, about fifth grade. He says he often looked up 'spanking' in the dictionary and sought out any writings or TV shows where people got spanked. Such things were hard to find back then. He says the web has made it much easier and brought out many Spankos who thought they were alone or crazy, only to find there are millions around the world like us.

The first time Mr. Stiles delivered an adult spanking was when his girlfriend committed an egregious act and he was furious with her. When he took her home that evening he put her over his knee in his car, pulled down her shorts and then her panties, and turned her little behind nice and red. They were 18 years old. She didn't like it but he did, indeed, spank her three more times over the years they were together...all of them disciplinary and she agreed that she deserved every one of them.

Mr. Stiles traveled a lot in his career and was able to contact women in cities where he traveled even before there was an internet. Shadow Lane published a quarterly magazine and people advertised in the back of it so he would contact women that way.

In the early days of the Internet there were bulletin boards. He says that for his purposes the most prominent was Shadow Lane's board upon which people could look for spanking partners. He met several women that way. Also, he notes, in just about every major city, spanking groups would form and have monthly or quarterly 'munches' and meet-ups. So, if he met a woman over the web via a board, she would often introduce him to others in her group. That was a good way to continue to meet new people.

Then the web came along and it made finding and contacting women who wanted to be spanked SOOO much easier! He remembers almost every one of them. About 27 in his travels and several at the two spanking parties he attended, one in New Jersey and one in California.

He has tried out being on the receiving end a couple of times with pro dommes. Like me, he enjoyed the nail-biting build-up and the catharsis afterwards but didn't like the spanking itself... didn't like the pain... but understood it 'came with the territory'. Being spanked  helped him to get inside the head of women who wanted spankings and he says it helped him to do a better job of spanking as well as writing about spankings.

Mr. Stiles first starting writing spanking stories in the 1980's on a typewriter. He says that back in 'The Olden Days' there were several outlets for spanking stories. Probably the most well-known was CF Publications which still exists today, though he reports that these days the owner is putting together compilations of his archives and selling them on Amazon. He wrote quite a few for CF. Also out there was Shadow Lane and they used two of his stories in their magazines. There was another publisher who used some of his stuff – The Bottom Line – but they are now out of business. He sent out quite a few stories in those days, being paid in subscriptions to their various publications.

He only started writing and self-publishing on Amazon a few years ago. A lady friend talked him into writing a full book in late 2020 and he published it in March of 2021. That first book was "DESTINATION: Desert Discipline: An Ageplay Discipline Novella":

A desert resort stands shining in the sun. Age Players who practice parental style discipline vacation here, where they can be themselves in their unique lifestyles in the company of others of like lives and actions. Here, oft-naughty girls frolic with others under the watchful eyes of their 'parents' for the duration of their vacations. Discipline at the resort can be strict and spankings are common, often public, and are only one of the many parental-style punishments practiced at this one-of-a-kind, in all the world, Destination Resort.

Amazon link here

I know from experience that being a spanking author does not pay the bills in any significant way, so let's take a moment now to thank the wonderful and wondrous Mr. M A Stiles for his contributions to our community over the years.

Thank you, Sir!

Monday, November 6

New Kinky AI: Dreampress.ai

Up to now I've been using ChatGPT for my kinky story writing co-pilot (see Spanking Stories by ChatGPT and me). However, in a recent update it seems to suddenly understand that spanking is more a kink than a valid disciplinary technique, and it's now refusing any and all requests to write spanking stories. It's like the President of Hitachi when somebody told him for the first time that his massagers aren't only used for sore muscles...

So, I went looking for alternatives.

First off, I was keen to see if I could find something more open source. David helped me setup something on his big computer. Some software called "Oogabooga text-generation-webui" that you can download and plug open source LLMs into. Then he downloaded "gpt4-x-alpaca" which is purported to be as good as GPT4 but uncensored.

What a miserable experience. It was hard for him to get it working, and when he finally did, it sucked. It ran very slowly (despite a very powerful computer in every respect), and its output was terrible. Apparently there are ways to fine tune it, but no easy guide to that. It looks like it's setup more for researchers than for kinky spanking authors.

I went back to square one and tried to find an online uncensored AI. I finally did! Yay! And it's good. Real good! It's called dreampress.ai.

I know, the landing page looks pretty scammy, not very professional, so you need to get past that. But it has a system where you can create an account and get a number of free tokens to use. So I tried that to start in on a spanking story.

Let me say, it was such a pleasure to use after suffering with ChatGPT for so long! Based on the strength of that, I signed up for $100 for the year so I could really dig in and experiment more. They use PayPal as their payment processor and say they have no access to any of your payment details, so there's a bit of a "Chinese wall" in case you use a secret identity like I do.

It can be used to write anything, but there's a mode you can kick in and out of as you please called "Erotica". If you flip that switch, it gets real dirty real fast! It's not always suitable for spanking content as it's tuned more to sex, but when you really want to describe the cock sucking or bum fucking, it's great to have. As I say, you can turn that mode on and off as you go.

You start by writing a plot outline.

It then auto-generates the characters, locations, and chapter titles and summaries. You can then edit any of that. It also generates some cover artwork (though the art is not NSFW, due to PayPal restrictions that they are trying to resolve).

You can then start working on each chapter in turn. I find it pretty useless at starting chapters, so I have to write the first paragraph to point it in the right direction.

It then gives you a choice of next paragraphs. You choose one that looks promising and it writes the next few for you. If you don't like where it's headed you can try again, or just edit what it did to keep it pointing in the right direction.

There are various controls over what it does.

  1. You can toggle it into Erotica mode which makes it sex happy.
  2. You can use the "Director" to tell it what you want it to write (mixed success with that).
  3. You can have it expand on a selected paragraph.
  4. You can have it change the "Tone" of a selected paragraph.
  5. You can set it to "Conclude" mode to have it generate chapter endings.

A big limitation dreampress.ai has relative to ChatGPT-4 seems to be its maximum token limit. Everything that is used in constructing the next paragraph needs to fit into this limit. While GPT4 is theoretically capable of considering the last 50,000 words in its answer, making it suitable for short novels, ChatGPT-4, that you can pay $20/month to use has a limit of 5000 words, which is still pretty good. Get beyond that, and it's as if it has completely forgotten what it wrote before that point and it will start getting inconsistent.

It's apparently really expensive in terms of processing power the larger the token limit is.

Dreampress.ai seems to have a pretty midget max token limit. It readily forgets stuff it wrote about only 5 or so paragraphs back, maybe less than 500 words (?), much less the whole novel to that point. I get it, it's super expensive, and I doubt Dreampress.ai can afford to operate at the sort of losses that ChatGPT (OpenAI) can.

But still, it ought to have a longer max token limit for paid subscribers, or even offer an extra tier to give it a bigger buffer (though they would also need to give you more computing power to keep it zippy - as it is, the speed in phenomenal and I'd be loathe to sacrifice much of that, but hey, ChatGPT4 is still pretty zippy with its 5000 word limit, so it is possible).

But, Dreampress.ai put in a number of features to compensate for that. It seems to include certain recurring information in every generation it does. Such as the novel title and synopsis, the chapter title and description, the character descriptions, the location. This keeps it mostly on track. You can also edit a certain area they call "Background Information" associated with each chapter as you go, to "remind it" of the important stuff so far. But the best tool is to not let it get off track. If it strays, re-write those parts and keep going.

They also have a "Chat" mode where you can create a character and chat with it, although I found that frustrating, as the characters seem like idiots!

You can also sit there like a voyeur and watch as another author generates a story (there is a switch to turn that off, but it keeps sneaking on again!). You can't search for authors, such as me, though (I'm @strictjulie there).

And you can "remix" another author's story, basically copying the whole thing and editing it or extending it.

All your stories are saved for you in their cloud. If you have a paid subscription you can export the whole story to text format. If you paid, you also get to own the output and publish it if you so choose.

So, let's see how well it worked!

In my upcoming short story book, the final story is a story of me skinny dipping in the lake and having the complainy neighbours see me and tell David who gives me a naked spanking in front of them.

I decided to redo that story to see where Dreampress.ai would take it. It wound up in a lot more sex, as I couldn't resist Erotica mode!

Here it is, enjoy!

-------

Naughty Waters: A Spanking Affair

by strictjulie

Created with DreamPress AI - The AI Story Co-Writer

Chapter 1

Julie stood there on the dock, her slender body gleaming in the warm summer light. As sunlight danced gracefully across the surface of the water, casting shimmering reflections upon her, Julie felt the pull to skinny dip in the cool, peaceful lake. However, she knew she mustn't, her husband had forbade it.

But something within her couldn't resist the temptation; the urge was too strong. Her heart raced with excitement at the thought of getting caught – maybe even disciplined for her transgression. The neighbors had seen her skinny dip previously, and complained, hence the ban from her husband.

Though she wasn’t scared they would catch her again, she did fear what David might do if they told him – after all, he wanted obedience above everything else. 

Her resolve strengthened, she took off her clothes one piece at a time until she stood completely nude before diving into the welcoming embrace of the crystal clear water. The cold bite of the liquid against her flesh sent delicious thrills coursing through her veins. Julie swam lazily back and forth, luxuriating in the freedom of movement underwater.

She glanced up occasionally, half expecting to spot someone spying on her. But so far, no signs of life were visible beyond her own reflection playing tricks in the gently rolling waves. Slowly, her pulse began to quicken, her breath growing shallower. Her fantasies grew wilder; the forbidden sensuality of her act filled her head with unbridled desire. Despite herself, an intense arousal started building deep inside her core.

Unbeknownst to Julie, the neighbors had heard the splash and saw her skinny dipping once again despite their earlier complaints. They knew David was out, but resolved to renew their complaints as soon as he returned.

It was only natural for two people sharing a house near the water to be curious about why someone would go skinny-dipping repeatedly despite being warned not to. But none of those reasons seemed good enough for them. Their minds became increasingly fixated on seeing Julie punished for disobeying her husband. To make matters worse, she appeared unaware of anyone's presence, letting her guard down entirely—she didn't seem to care whether she got caught. Or perhaps, she secretly yearned for someone to catch her?

Julie emerges from the water, wet and naked. She looks over and sees the neighbors staring at her. She sticks out her tongue at them and returns to her cottage.

The neighbor's faces cloud with anger. After discussing the situation amongst themselves, they decide to confront David immediately upon his return regarding Julie's defiance.

When they hear his car, they march over to David's place feeling angry and disappointed in both Julie and himself. Upon arriving, they knock forcefully at the door. When David opens it, his brow furrows instantly. "What can I help you with?" he says sternly. His voice carries authority, reflecting his dominance.

The man starts speaking. 

"We need to talk about your wife," he said. "She just went skinny-dipping again."

David flinches slightly, visibly annoyed, and says, "I'm sorry to hear that. I forbade her from doing that." David rubs his hand along his square jawline, considering. "It seems our little rule breaker needs some discipline."

David sighed, exuding frustration while maintaining eye contact with the neighbors. "Please come inside so we may have a more appropriate conversation about how to handle such behavior."

The neighbors obliged, stepping inside. Once settled in the living room, the man continued talking. "If we don't take steps now, others will continue to see it as acceptable behavior."

David nodded solemnly, contemplating his options. Then, he turned towards the couple with determination etched deeply on his face. "Perhaps you're right," he replied, finally taking decisive action. 

"And perhaps we should let my wife know how serious this matter truly is." He paused briefly, then looked directly at the man and added, "Would you like to witness firsthand the consequences for such blatant disregard for my rules?"

The neighbors exchange surprised glances, unsure what to expect. Before they could protest, David continued: "I think having you here, observing the repercussions, will serve as a valuable learning experience for Julie – and potentially deter future occurrences."

His proposal hung heavy in the air. Neither party moved nor spoke. Finally, the male neighbor spoke up, saying, "Your wife deserves to learn a lesson. We agree to stay and watch."

David smiled grimly, satisfied with their agreement. He took them to the living room and bade them to sit. "Make yourselves comfortable. I'll inform Julie about your presence." With that, he walked determinedly toward their bedroom where Julie was reading, blissfully unaware.

Chapter 2

David goes to the bedroom to fetch Julie.

Upon entering, he finds her engrossed in her book, ignorant of the events unfolding outside. Unperturbed by his arrival, she continues to read, lost in the pages.

Startled, Julie looks up from her book, meeting her husband's gaze intensely. A flicker of concern flashes across her features at his somber countenance.

Intrigued yet apprehensive, she stands, placing her hands behind her back instinctively. "What's going on, dear?" she inquires hesitantly.

David clenches his teeth together, struggling to suppress any reaction. 

This moment has been simmering beneath the surface ever since he learned of Julie's repeated indiscretion. It was time to put an end to her defiance. Looking into her eyes, he smiles menacingly, his face betraying nothing.

"Yes, sweetheart. There's something you ought to know... Our neighbors happened to witness your most recent display of audacity. And guess what? I've invited them to watch your punishment!"

Julie's complexion grows pale, understanding dawning upon her. 

'No,' she whispers, trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation. 'They're going to…?'

David's smile widens maliciously. 'Watch me give you a proper spanking.'

Inwardly, Julie crumbles under pressure, feeling exposed and vulnerable. How could things escalate so quickly?

David leads Julie into the living room, where he addresses the neighbors. 

"As you can see, Mrs. Evans, Mr. Evans, Julie understands that her conduct requires corrective measures." Julie's face burns crimson with embarrassment, mortified by her impending public humiliation.

Mr. Evans nodded brusquely, his demeanor hardening with disapproval. "Indeed, David. Such acts demand retribution."

Mrs. Evans echoed his sentiment, adding, "Our daughter behaves similarly, never listening to us. A good spanking seems to set her to rights. Perhaps it will work here also."

The neighbors seemed eager to observe Julie receive her comeuppance, emboldened by their shared conviction that Julie deserved the harshest treatment possible.

Seeing this, David tightened his grasp around Julie's arm. Emboldened by the neighbors' approval, he led her further into the living room. "All right, young lady. Time for your disciplining. Seeing as you seem to enjoy being naked, strip. Remove every stitch. Now!" David commanded, his tone full of certainty.

Julie's body trembled with trepidation. As tears welled in her eyes, she realized there was no escaping this nightmare. Taking a deep breath, she slowly unbuttoned her dress, allowing it to slide down her shoulders and fall onto the floor. She reached for her bra, slipped it off, revealing her ample breasts. Her nipples stood erect from fear and arousal.

The neighbors' expressions revealed their satisfaction, their anticipation heightened. 

Julie felt a wave of discomfort wash over her as she faced them. The sensation was so intense that it seemed to strip her bare, leaving her exposed not just physically but emotionally too. Her heart raced with anxiety, and her fingers shook violently as they reached for the remaining garment on her person. Trembling, she pulled her panties off until finally, nothing remained. Standing there, now completely naked, she shivered from the cold draft that brushed against her skin, seemingly reaching deep within her bones. 

Glancing at the gathered audience, Julie felt like she had become some kind of exhibit in a carnival side show – on display purely for voyeurs to ogle and judge. Despite herself, she couldn’t help stealing glances at the expectant faces before her, unable to escape the prickling sense of shame creeping through her veins. Each second dragged painstakingly slow, every tick of the clock signalling another step closer to the ultimate act of submission.

The neighbors looked at Julie's naked body with satisfaction. They felt the naked girl deserved her humiliating punishment. They believed it would teach her a lesson. The wife was more than happy to watch the spectacle because Julie's behavior upset her. However, the husband secretly desired Julie despite knowing how much she annoyed everyone else. This event provided him with the perfect opportunity to satisfy his hidden lust for her. He relishes seeing her completely naked, shaking in shame and embarrassment under his gaze.

Chapter 3

Slowly lowering Julie over his lap, David began the process of inflicting the ultimate form of punishment— a spanking designed specifically to assert control and remind her of her position within their relationship. As he grips her waist firmly, ensuring she remains bent over and unable to resist, the intensity of Julie's nervousness amplifies tenfold. Unable to hide her terror, she whimpers helplessly. 

Feeling her tremble even harder, David tightens his hold on her waist, restraining her better still. The neighbors watched intently, their expressions mirroring those of predators circling their prey. Their focus on Julie was now all consuming, and though she tried to divert her gaze elsewhere, her body betrayed her unease as it quivered beneath David's touch. He knew exactly how to manipulate Julie's response, exploiting her weaknesses expertly. 

Drawing out his hand, he prepared to strike. His palm connected with her cheek, creating a resounding slap that reverberated throughout the room. Julie yelped loudly, shocked at the sudden force of the impact. Her eyes widened in surprise. The neighbors' heads snapped up simultaneously, drawn by the sound of the blow. The couple shared a mutual expression of excitement, thrilled to be part of Julie's chastisement. 

Watching Julie suffer brought forth a perverse joy in both husband and wife. The husband's eyes darkened with passion, imagining himself inflicting similar torments upon the rebellious girl. Meanwhile, Mrs. Evans found pleasure in witnessing someone getting reprimanded, especially one whose indecent exposure bothered her so much. 

Julie's body flinched involuntarily after each sharp crack of David's hand striking her bottom. Her flesh turned progressively rosier, reflecting the growing heat of her humiliation. The sight of Julie's smooth, fair skin turning increasingly scarlet only served to stoke the fire burning inside the neighbors. 

Each subsequent swat landed with greater ferocity, sending waves of agony coursing through Julie's body. Throughout these moments, the neighbors were transfixed, captivated by the drama playing out before them. Mrs. Evans leaned forward in her seat, her eyes locked on Julie's writhing figure. Her husband sat beside her, equally enthralled by the proceedings.

Meanwhile, Julie screamed aloud with each blow, crying hysterically as her bottom blazed bright red. Though aware of her neighbors' presence, Julie became numb to everything except the excruciating pain wracking her bottom.

Julie's breasts bounced obscenely as she bucked wildly underneath David, her face contorted in agony. She cried and cursed silently, trying to suppress her grunts and groans as best she could. Her struggle only fueled David's resolve to continue.

Her once smooth, milky white skin rapidly transformed into a vivid landscape of crimson bruises. Her delicate derrière throbbed furiously, begging for mercy. Yet the cruel hand continued its stern assault. 

David repositioned Julie to make her straddle his knee, her pussy and asshole fully spread facing the neighbors and continued her spanking.

"No! Please, no!" Begged Julie.

Her voice was shrill, filled with panicked pleading. The pain surging through her tender posterior left little doubt as to the extent of her suffering. Her backside had been reduced to an inflamed patchwork of angry purples and vibrant reds – a testament to David's unrelenting determination. She attempted to clamp her legs together instinctively, protecting her modesty as best she could, however David's thigh kept them well-spread and on full display, exposing her wet folds before the neighbors. Julie blinked away hot tears, fighting back a rising wave of shame. Despite her misery, her desire was undeniably evident.

David smiled darkly as he observed his wife's reaction, taking delight in the fact that he had effectively put Julie in such a compromising position.

Mr. Evans leered with lascivious intent, feeding off Julie's distress as she endured the relentless onslaught of pain. Julie's skin crawled with a mixture of indignation and sexual awareness, which made her feel utterly trapped and powerless. Each strike from David's strong hand ignited new sparks of pain in her sensitive rear, yet Julie couldn't deny the arousal building deep within her core.

The humiliation caused by having her private parts displayed while enduring the brutal spanking intensified her already racing heartbeats, making her feel dizzy and lightheaded. As Julie wriggled helplessly under David's grip, attempting to avoid the strikes that rained down upon her nether regions, the neighbors could see every move she made clearly. 

It added fuel to the fire for both Mr. and Mrs. Evans, whose eyes roamed hungrily over Julie's quivering frame. Despite her desire to shield herself, she remained entirely exposed, the viewers witnessing firsthand the effects of the spanking on her sexually charged body.

David spread her bottom cleft wide open, spanking up and down the sensitive skin within her cleft, and spanking asshole and pussy both.

Julie let out a high pitched screech as the stinging sensations hit her most sensitive areas. It was hard for her to bear the intense pain and shame of having her private parts spanked. Her moans echoed around the room, her breath coming in short bursts as she fought to keep quiet. The neighbours, eager to observe Julie's suffering, took great pleasure in hearing her cries.

Mr. Evans rubbed his hands together excitedly, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Mrs. Evans, on the other hand, appeared almost mesmerized by the unfolding events. Both of them reveled in the knowledge that they were witnessing something deeply personal and forbidden.

With each strike of his hand, David sought to reinforce his dominance over Julie. Her defiance earlier had angered him, and now he wanted to demonstrate his authority. 

But even in her pain, Julie felt an unexpected rush of arousal at being publicly disciplined. Unwilling to surrender just yet, Julie pushed against his arm, testing his strength. The gesture seemed lost on David, who maintained his iron grip on her, determined to maintain control.

During all this time, Julie's nipples remained erect and visible, further driving the neighbors’ voyeurism. They enjoyed observing Julie's physical transformation and the way her body reacted to the punishment. 

Her skin burned with shame, her cheeks flushed with humiliation, and her body yearned for release.

Julie felt like an animal, stripped bare and submitted to her master's demands. The thought of satisfying her desires consumed her mind, and she couldn't help but fantasize about finally giving in to her urges. Even knowing she would experience more pain afterwards, Julie craved to have David finish what he started. 

Despite her embarrassment, Julie also noticed her libido skyrocket during the spanking session. This only increased her confusion.

But regardless of her inner conflict, Julie ached for relief. The weight of David's firm hand pressed onto her sensitive flesh sent shivers throughout her entire body. She found solace in the gentle caresses he gave to her swollen, bruised buttocks after each round of slaps. Although the tenderness offered temporary comfort, it didn't diminish the burning need pulsing through her veins.

David ended her spanking, returning her to her feet.

Chapter 4

"Apologize, Julie," David commanded.

Trembling, Julie began to speak. "I am very sorry for my behavior," she said in a subdued tone. She bowed her head, ashamed. The neighbors listened intently, reveling in the awkward situation. 

Their eyes never left Julie as she stood there, defeated and contrite. She was visibly struggling to compose herself, a mix of confusion and desire emanating from her every movement. As Julie spoke her apology, her voice trembled with emotion, betraying her turmoil. In spite of the circumstances, she managed to hold her gaze steadfastly on the neighbors, a silent affirmation of her submission. 

"Go stand with your nose in the corner, young lady." David ordered coldly. With trembling limbs, Julie walked obediently to the designated spot, finding refuge in the silence that followed. Mortification washed over her, amplifying her sense of vulnerability. She stewed in her predicament, torn between resentment and desire, uncertain how to reconcile her opposing impulses. Julie tried to quell her growing excitement, unable to understand why the painful act had left her wanting more than ever.

Standing in the corner, her body still bore evidence of the recent ordeal. Her ass was sore, raw, and marked with the imprint of David's palm. The welts across her bottom burned fiercely, leaving behind a stark reminder of her punishment.

The neighbors watched closely, their taunting words pierced Julie's ears, cutting straight to her soul.

"Look at you, standing there like a naughty school girl," Mrs. Evans chided, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Julie's face flushed with shame, her body responding to the verbal attack with heightened arousal.

Unable to escape the scrutiny of the neighbors, she was forced to remain in her degrading position. Tears threatened to fall, but she held them back, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her breakdown completely. Instead, she focused on the intensity of her own internal battle – one between submission and desire.

"It certainly looks like she's learned her lesson," says Mr. Evans.

"Yes, indeed." Their mocking banter filled the air, making Julie squirm even more.

Chapter 6

"My mother had a certain technique she used with naughty girls after a spanking," said Mrs. Evans.

"Do tell," said David.

"She would carve and peel a big fat ginger root and insert it right up the naughty girl's bumhole. It's called a figging."

The comment elicited a glance from Julie, whose face showed disbelief mixed with apprehension.

"Whenever someone needs extra motivation… or simply deserves it." Mrs. Evans added.

"We have some fresh ginger root in the fridge. Be my guest," said David to Mrs. Evans.

Julie's brow furrowed in confusion, unsure whether to be alarmed or curious about the prospect of experiencing such a peculiar form of punishment. But as the idea settled in her mind, she realized that any additional torment might serve to satisfy her mounting desires.

Mrs. Evans retrieved a piece of fresh ginger root from the refrigerator, carefully selecting a suitable size for Julie's rectum. The thick, knobbly texture of the ginger root evoked a strange combination of fear and fascination within Julie. Mrs. Evans peeled it and carved it into an appropriate shape.

"Step over her and bend over, little miss spanked bottom."

Steeling herself, Julie went to the cruel woman and bent forward, presenting her tight, puckered anal opening to the group. Mrs. Evans approached slowly, gripping the ginger root firmly in her hand. 

"Brace yourself, darling." Julie winced slightly, tensing her muscles as Mrs. Evans inserted the sharp tip of the ginger root into her anus. The sudden penetration sent shock waves through Julie's body, amplifying her sensitivity. Every fibre of her being throbbed in response to the foreign object teasing her depths.

As Mrs. Evans thrust the ginger root deeper inside Julie, the latter closed her eyes, willing herself to endure the unbearably intense sensation. 

Her nerves screamed in protest as the coolness of the ginger root melded with the heat of her body. Its unique taste tickled her insides, sending electrifying currents along her intestinal pathways. Julie bit her lip, trying to suppress the involuntary gasps escaping her mouth.

Her whole body convulsed from the assault, intensifying her arousal, which now bordered on agony. 

Gasping, she looked toward David, seeking confirmation that this tortuous ritual would soon come to an end. His gaze met hers, holding it steadfast despite the palpable discomfort written upon her features. Julie blinked rapidly, tears threatening to breach the damn wall she had constructed around her emotions. Sweat trickled down her forehead, tracing a trail of salty warmth. Her skin prickled beneath the barrage of emotions coursing through her veins.

Aware of Julie's increasing distress, Mrs. Evans decided to take full advantage of the opportunity presented before her. Pulling out another ginger root from the refrigerator, she proceeded to prepare it similarly.

Julie could hardly bear the suspense as she awaited the second insertion. Bracing herself once again, she willed her resolve to overcome the looming discomfort. Mrs. Evans delicately slid the newly prepared ginger root into Julie's soaking vagina.

The double invasion of the ginger roots made Julie feel utterly exposed and helpless.

"Stand right there, hands on your head. Hold still," Mrs. Evans commanded.

Each shift of her body caused both items to rub against her sensitive areas simultaneously, pushing her limits beyond imagination. The sight of David standing confidently beside her further fueled her desire while igniting feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. Despite the pain, pleasure surged through her body, sparking a fire that no amount of rationality could extinguish. Julie moaned softly, aware of her wetness pooling around the base of the ginger roots, adding to her arousal. 

The sensory overload of having two foreign objects deep inside her erogenous zones pushed her past her breaking point. Each wriggle or move resulted in the simultaneous stimulation of her most private parts, turning her world upside down.

Feeling trapped and vulnerable under the watchful eye of the neighbors, Julie grappled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, she dreaded the indignity and public humiliation; yet, strangely enough, these very experiences seemed to ignite an undeniable passion within her. 

As if possessed by demons, Julie succumbed to the forceful urges consuming her body, squirming and dancing in place as the neighbors laughed at her humiliating predicament. Gathering courage from the darkness enveloping her, she whispered, "Please..."

David smirked, knowing exactly what she desired — the thrill of forbidden fruit, the sweet sting of dominance, and the exhilarating rush of giving in to her darker cravings. His gaze bore into hers, challenging her to accept all aspects of herself.

"Look at her dance!" said Mr. Evans.

Embarrassed and shaken, Julie remained in her humiliated position. Though she yearned for release, her pride prevented her from conceding defeat. Instead, she harbored an inner conflict – fighting between the desire to resist and the craving to submit.

"Would you like those ginger roots out, dear?" Asked Mrs. Evans.

"Take them out, please." Begged Julie.

"I'll remove them once you've used your own fingers to get yourself off. Not a moment before." Mrs. Evans retorted sternly.

Julie's cheeks reddened, burning with embarrassment and anticipation. Unable to deny her need any longer, she reluctantly began touching herself, savoring every sensation and allowing it to propel her closer to the edge. Each stroke only served to fuel her arousal, setting her heart racing and quickening her breath. Her fingertips expertly teased and tormented her swollen clit, driving her mad with desire.

As she neared the peak, her moans turned louder, echoing throughout the room. Watching her struggle to achieve her orgasm only intensified the neighbor’s perverse amusement.

Without warning, David abruptly pulled away the ginger root from her anus, leaving her achingly empty. At that precise moment, however, Julie finally reached her ultimate high. With one final cry, she released the pressure building inside her, sending wave after wave of ecstasy crashing through her body. 

Her legs quivered, weakened by the powerful orgasm that shook her to the core. With tears streaming down her face, Julie collapsed onto the floor, exhausted yet incredibly satisfied. The neighbors observed her spectacle with renewed interest, their faces mirroring equal amounts of triumph and curiosity.

For several moments, Julie lay motionless, struggling to regain control of her erratic pulse. Her limbs felt heavy and unwieldy, as if they were not truly connected to her anymore. 

Still lying prostrate on the ground, Julie found it difficult to move or process the events that transpired just minutes ago. Emotionally drained and physically spent, her skin was damp from sweat and the remnants of her earlier climax.

David stood above her, observing her demeanor thoughtfully. He knew the experience must have been intense and deeply humbling for her. Inwardly, he smiled at how obedient and submissive she had become since meeting the neighbors.

With a broad smirk, Mrs. Evans reached down and pulled the second ginger root from her vagina. Julie moaned.

Her body trembled, recovering from the powerful sensations and explosive finale. David watched her, pleased with her submission and the intensity of the scene. Mrs. Evans handed him the removed ginger root, chuckling at their accomplishments. Both of them marveled at the effectiveness of their manipulations, knowing that Julie's obsession with pleasing them drove her to extreme lengths.

Chapter 7

"What a little slut you are, young lady," said Mrs. Evans. "Just look what you did to my husband. He's clearly hard under those pants. David, would you mind if your wife uses her mouth to relieve Mr. Evans?"

"Absolutely," says David. "Julie! Take care of Mr. Evans you horny slut. And do it properly or I'll take off my belt." David warned. He guided Julie over to where Mr. Evans stood. Once there, Julie knelt before the man who had watched her every move, her head bowed low in submission. David instructed her, "Now suck Mr. Evans' cock until he comes, understand?" Julie nodded meekly, still processing the situation. 

But obedience had become second nature to her. She glanced briefly at the expectant faces of Mr. and Mrs. Evans, feeling her fear turn into excitement. With her eyes lowered submissively, Julie moved closer to Mr. Evans, reaching for his crotch without hesitation. His member sprang instantly into life, swelling with blood and thrusting outwards, signaling his approval. Reaching for his thickness, Julie wrapped her lips around the tip, letting the soft skin slide along the underside. 

As she began her task, Julie looked up momentarily, locking gazes with Mrs. Evans, challenging her to watch and judge. The woman returned her look with equal intensity, seemingly pleased at Julie's willingness to perform this act so openly. This exchange brought on another layer of erotic tension amongst everyone present.

Moving back to her work, Julie took hold of Mr. Evans' length and started moving her mouth rhythmically up and down, expertly teasing the tip while simultaneously working her tongue to stimulate the base. 

Occasionally, she flicked her tongue across the sensitive ridges surrounding the opening, sending electric currents coursing through Mr. Evans' groin. Meanwhile, Julie savored the thrill of being watched by two pairs of judgemental eyes, heightening her sense of submission and adding fuel to her lustful appetites.

Feeling emboldened by the voyeurs, Julie decided to push boundaries further. She opened her mouth wider and engulfed Mr. Evans' penis completely, wrapping her fingers around the root and stroking in synchronization with her movements. 

As she took Mr. Evans deeper into her warm, welcoming mouth, Julie knew exactly how much pressure to apply to ensure maximum satisfaction. Taking pride in her skill, she bobbed vigorously, occasionally looking up to gauge the intensity of Mr. Evans' response.

This action caught the attention of Mrs. Evans again, who marvelled at Julie's ability to please others despite her supposed promiscuity. Mrs. Evans whispered admiringly to David, complimenting Julie's talented technique. 

Julie, meanwhile, continued performing fellatio on Mr. Evans, focusing intently on pleasing him. As her lips danced around his shaft, she heard the sound of his heavy breathing growing steadier and faster, accompanied by slight grunts escaping his throat. These signs of impending climax fueled Julie's eagerness to bring him to his peak.

She tightened her grip around the base of his member, pulling him even deeper into her mouth as she moved her head up and down in tandem. 

Feeling increasingly confident, Julie reached up and began playing with Mr. Evans' testicles, rolling them in her palm as she used her free hand to stroke his inner thigh. Her actions elicited a loud groan from him, followed by an involuntary thrust forward, prompting an audible gasps from the spectators.

The sight of her kneeling subserviently before him, combined with her skilled techniques, ignited a powerful surge inside him. Gripping her head forcefully, he pulled her mouth tighter against his throbbing shaft. Unable to contain his passion any longer, Mr. Evans released his load directly into Julie's waiting mouth. The sudden torrent filled her throat, triggering reflex convulsions as Julie worked diligently to accommodate every last drop.

She choked and sputtered slightly, releasing some semen from her mouth and allowing it to dribble down her chin and onto the floor. Afterward, she slowly raised her face from his crotch, eyes meeting his once more. Satisfaction radiated from Mr. Evans' countenance, which spoke volumes about the quality of her performance.

Completing the process, Julie wiped her mouth clean with the back of her hand, smearing a bit of cum across her upper lip in the process.

"What a mess, my dear," said Mrs. Evans, pointing to the floor where Julie had spilled some of her husband's seed.

"Lick it up!" Commanded David.

Julie knelt lower to the ground, stuck her tongue out, and began lapping up the cum off the floor. Despite her discomfort, she showed no resistance towards fulfilling her role as a submissive wife. As she licked away the evidence of her transgression, Julie could feel the heat of their judgmental gaze upon her. 

Throughout the whole act, Julie kept her eyes locked on Mrs. Evans', making sure never to break eye contact. Her intention was clear – to showcase her complete acceptance of her position and her unwavering commitment to serving her husband's wishes.

Once she finished cleaning the floor, Julie rose to her feet, her face devoid of emotion save for a hint of triumph in her eyes. Without saying a word, she turned to face David, awaiting his reaction.

He studied her closely, taking note of her newly acquired confidence.

"Get yourself to the bedroom, young lady. Kneel on the bed, lube your asshole, and wait for me. You have a bum fucking to endure yet."

Chapter 8

Entering the bedroom, Julie closed the door behind her, feeling vulnerable and disoriented. The warmth of the cottage radiated through the floorboards, accentuating the coolness of her skin as she stood there trembling. Closing her eyes, she ran her fingers along her still tender bottom, wincing at the touch. Gingerly, she inspected the damage done – purple bruises marred her normally creamy complexion, leaving stark contrast against her porcelain skin. She couldn't help but notice how attractive these marks looked against her soft curves. 

Julie began exploring her bruised bottom, fascinated by how the colors varied across different areas. The deeper purple area near her tailbone reminded her of rich plums, while those closer to her butt cheeks resembled ripe mulberries. The whole process filled her with odd satisfaction, heightening her arousal. She reached down to massage her swollen posterior. Her fingers moved slowly, caressing and pressing her sore skin until her palm covered the raw flesh completely.

With a sigh, Julie went to the ensuite bathroom and cleaned out her rectum with a combination of the toilet, the bidet, and her fingers. She washed her hands and returned to the bed. There she knelt in the middle of the bed, ass elevated, head and chest on the bed, and lubed her rectum and bottom hole with her fingers. Leaving the lube out, she awaited her husband in this humiliating pose.

After several minutes passed without any movement from David, impatience grew inside Julie. She knew she needed to be ready for whatever was going to happen. However, her anxious thoughts got interrupted when she heard footsteps outside the door.

Julie froze, wondering whether it was the nosy neighbors again. Hearing nothing else, she decided to remain silent and motionless, hoping whomever it was wouldn't discover her in this state. No one came inside, so she assumed it wasn't anyone important. The waiting continued.

In silence, Julie's anxiety mounted. Unable to understand why David hadn't come into the room yet, she tried to focus on regulating her breathing. With every passing moment, the pressure building beneath her rose. Feeling increasingly restless, Julie shifted positions slightly, her hips moving involuntarily to accommodate the persistent tension within her body. Finally, unable to hold herself in place anymore, she opened her mouth to call out for David. Before she could do so, the door opened and he stepped into the room. 

His presence instantly snapped Julie out of her self-induced trance. Her face flushed crimson with embarrassment; nevertheless, her submissiveness kicked in immediately, allowing her to continue in her posture.

He approached her, his movements unhurried and deliberate. 

His eyes bore into hers, assessing her readiness for what lay ahead. Without saying a word, he placed himself behind her, towering over her petite form. He placed the tip of his hard penis against the small entrance of her asshole. Julie whimpered.

"Please... I can't take much more."

"Shh," David replied calmly, leaning forward to press his lips against her neck. His tongue teased her earlobe, sending delicious waves coursing through her. His voice dropped lower, more demanding than ever before. "Remember your submission, my love."

She nodded, trying to stay focused despite the immense pain and excitement surging through her body. 

Taking slow steady strokes, David entered her tight anus. His pace picked up gradually, sliding in and out of her with calculated force. Their bodies collided rhythmically, Julie's gasps muffling into the pillow, echoing in the silent bedroom. The sounds reverberated, filling the empty void left by the absent neighbors. As David drove harder into her body, the taut muscles surrounding his member loosened incrementally. Julie bit her lip, holding back tears of pleasure mixed with agony. 

She felt her world spinning as David powerfully thrust in and out of her rear passage. Each penetration caused new levels of ecstasy. Yet, her mind wandered to the fact that soon enough, David might allow her some respite.

Excitement stirring within her core, Julie found herself growing wetter with every penetrative thrust. She put one hand between her legs and began frantically rubbing her clit. David's powerful motions propelled her higher and higher toward climax. Julie's body bucked wildly underneath him.

As David kept pushing inward, Julie's innermost depths contracted around him, drawing tightly as she neared orgasm. Her vocalizations turned from soft pleading to loud yells, her limbs straining with the effort to reach that final point.

Meanwhile, David's powerful thrusts brought him closer and closer to orgasm. He admired his wife's form. Her smooshed breasts. Her slim waist. Her red spanked rear.

And most significantly, her unbridled passion. The sight of his wife submitting fully to his will fueled David's desire. He felt his own orgasm approaching rapidly. Just as Julie's contractions intensified, reaching their peak, David let loose. His hot seed erupted deep within her bowels, pumping wave upon wave of semen into her. Julie screamed incoherently, her body convulsing violently around him. Her orgasm hit her full force, sending shockwaves through her system. 

Finally, both of them collapsed on the bed, spent and sweaty. Julie laid her head on David's shoulder, exhausted but satisfied. David held her close, his strong arms enveloping her frail frame protectively. For once, they allowed themselves to savor the intimate connection they shared.

Fin

-----

Pretty good, eh?!? You can sure tell where I turned Erotica mode on, no?

Let me know what you think, and go take Dreampress.ai for a spin.

Sunday, November 5

Wednesday, November 1

My Feelings about Gaza

Wow, this is a tough one, isn't it?

I've previously covered the history of the region in my post Israel and Palestine. I'll recap briefly.

Historically, Arabs and Jews were basically the same people. For the 500 years preceding WW1 the region was controlled by the Ottoman Turks, disliked by Arabs and Jews equally. Post WW1 the region came under British rule. During that time, Jews started immigrating in and bringing a lot of foreign capital with them. They lived more or less in harmony with the Arabs. The Jews were terrific for the region and brought it out of poverty, and the Arabs were happy with that.

Both Arabs and Jews were vying for a State. There was a powerful Jewish lobby in Britain and the US. However, the Arabs had the oil. So the British dithered. After the Holocaust, the UN voted to allow the Jews to setup a State. The British were happy to get out as the Jews were literally terrorizing them. The Arabs never accepted the decision and immediately went to war with the nascent Israeli State. The Arabs lost badly (against all odds). The Arabs tried again and again and failed each time.

Many Arabs were displaced from Israel during this time and took refuge in Egypt-controlled Gaza. However, Egypt never allowed those refugees in Gaza into Egypt proper, preferring to keep them penned up there to make trouble for Israel, which they certainly did.

In 2006, Hamas won the elections in Gaza by a plurality of seats and then went to war against the secular Palestinian Authority party (Fatah). Hamas is an Islamic Fundamentalist Terrorist Organization closely aligned with the Muslim Brotherhood. They are anti-semitic, deny the Holocaust, and believe the Jews are a conspiracy to take over the world. On August 10, 2012, Ahmad Bahr, Deputy Speaker of the Hamas Parliament, stated in a sermon that aired on Al-Aqsa TV:

If the enemy sets foot on a single square inch of Islamic land, Jihad becomes an individual duty, incumbent on every Muslim, male or female. A woman may set out [on Jihad] without her husband's permission, and a servant without his master's permission. Why? In order to annihilate those Jews. ... O Allah, destroy the Jews and their supporters. O Allah, destroy the Americans and their supporters. O Allah, count them one by one, and kill them all, without leaving a single one.

Hamas has been preparing for war and firing missiles into Israel for years. A couple of weeks ago they perpetrated their worst atrocity to date, drugging up a bunch of terrorists and sending them into Israel to assassinate civilians, including old men, women, and children.

Why? God only knows. Can an entire State be mentally insane? Maybe. Has the population been brainwashed since birth to believe it is Godly to assassinate Jews? Yup.

Are there puppet masters behind this? For sure. Iran, Russia, China, trying to promote a broader conflict in the Middle East to draw the US into a second war besides Ukraine? Looks like that to me.

It's also about Sunni versus Shia Muslims. Saudi Arabia and the Gulf States were beginning to make peace with Israel. That would have left Iran isolated. So they made this obscenity happen in order to stall or terminate that peace process.

So how was Israel to respond?

They chose to go on the offensive and eliminate the offensive capacity of Hamas.

Trouble is, Hamas uses civilians as human shields. They setup military shop in hospitals, schools, refugee camps. Hiding behind (mostly willing) civilians to launch offensive operations.

The Israeli response has been to tell the citizens to distance themselves from Hamas and then take Hamas out. There's a vast network of tunnels left over filled with weapons and fighters, and Israel has now moved on to clearing those out.

In the process, a lot of civilians are getting injured. It's worth pointing out that in war, this happens. Fire bombing of Dresden and Tokyo, and the nuclear bombing of Nagasaki and Hiroshima come immediately to mind. That sucks.

I think Israel has little choice. I support their actions while hoping they can minimize civilian casualties. I urge the Arab states and Muslim religious leaders to condemn the actions of Hamas, acknowledge Israel's right to exist, and welcome those Gazans who are willing to renounce violence into their countries. To my knowledge no Islamic religious leader has yet condemned the attacks.