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Thursday, November 20, 2014

President Slave Girl: Billionaire's Toy -- Book 2 of The Homouth Series Is Out


Possibly one of my best stories evah!

You can get President Slave Girl: Billionaire's Toy here at Amazon.com for the US or here at Amazon.com for the UK. The book is in fact available worldwide, so you people in India ... get cracking! I've got my eye on you!

And if you haven't read The Homouth Book 1, well hie thee hence!

Book 2 of the Homouth is where I REALLY got to write some fun scenes. After MacCammon is released she is forced to resort to unnatural, disgusting (to a prude) sexual practices in order to get the homouth removed. Poor Eileen! Especially the scene where former President MacCammon is raped senseless while bound by the lesbian daughter of a well-known politician, who ALSO has a homouth and is pretty fucking annoyed at having to hide her true feelings to stay in her father's conservative circles. And the scenes where a One Percenter who has been a huge donor to her party's campaigns lets MacCammon know what he REALLY thinks of her, with his cock jammed down her homouth and her chained and helpless the whole time. And the scene where a bordello owner demonstrates to her what it's like to be audited by the IRS (hint: no lube is involved) before turning her out to be a slave slut in his bordello. And the introduction of Talena the trainer and the dramatic escape attempt ... so MUCH FUN!

I think I'm really on to something in this story. The combination of current social issue, a huge comeuppance story, and tons of sex slavery and sexual bondage and dominance REALLY works together well.

I couldn't say ANY of this in my Amazon descriptions of the story, they've got a bunch of crazy-ass rules about stories and how you can promote them, but damn, I'm grooving on Book 2 of the Homouth, I feel like I've struck gold, authorially speaking. Get it while it's hot .. because there's EVEN MORE goodie to come in future additions to this story.

An Excerpt from President Slavegirl: Billionaire's Toy

Eileen's heart hammered as she looked at her visitor. She had been fantasizing about this moment for the last several days, almost constantly. And with a hideous, obscene eagerness and urgency. It was very clear that her new and improved libido was fully functioning. She had awakened in the morning both sticky and sweaty, and it wasn't the seaside air that made it so. She had to take a long shower to get the funk off, but it did relatively little good, because the glimpses she got of her own naked flesh, and more importantly, the feel of it as she washed it, turned her on tremendously.
Eileen could hardly stand her own eagerness as Giuterrez's procedure-doer strode into the room. He was a handsome young man in his 20s, of average height but with a really nice build and a pleasant, casual demeanor. Dark brown hair, strong jaw, sparkling blue eyes, a sensuous mouth that also tended to smile. He made a really great first impression.
"Hi, I'm Paul Atreides," he said, offering his hands for a shake. "Dr. Giuterrez sent me."
Eileen extended her hand to shake Atreides'. Firm grip, manicured nails. She had been half fearing some grubby lout would show.
"I hope you will accept this token of my respect," said Atreides, extending his hand. In it rested a tiny jeweled watch on a chain. It was not an expensive piece, but it was good looking. It was the sort of thing you could wear casually almost anywhere, though it was too inexpensive for any kind of formal occasion.
Not that this was a formal occasion. Eileen was uncomfortably aware that she had an almost irresistible urge to reach out and stroke Atreides. He was so attractive, so male, and she was so, so, needy.
Eileen smiled with her eyes and accepted the gift. She gestured to Atreides to follow her and went to the writing table that sat against the window.
"Thank you for the gift," she wrote. "It is lovely, and I appreciate the spirit that led you to give it to me. But I hope you will not think me forward -- did Dr. Giuterrez tell you exactly what my problem is?"
"He said that bad people put a homouth on you," said Atreides, "one that you could only get rid of by performing acts of sexual bondage with a man. Is that true?"
Eileen nodded, blushing slightly.
"Then you have my sympathy," said Atreides. "I will be very happy to help you in any way I can. And I believe I can help you. I am quite experienced at sexual bondage. I have brought many women great pleasure while in bondage. Of course, this has always been with women who were engaging in bondage because they wished to explore it for their pleasure. I understand that is not the case with you. So you may not have such pleasure as others might -- but I think I can make this as painless as possible, under the circumstances."
Eileen nodded thankfully. It was what she had hoped for, really. There was no prospect of anything really good coming from this union of their bodies. The best she could hope for was a quick end to the business with her mouth restored to her face.
(Why, then, was she trembling so? Why did her heart beat so hard? Why was she almost unable to look Atreides in the eye? What was she so afraid of what he might see in her eyes?)
"Before we begin, are there any other rules I must know of?" Atreides asked.
"Yes," Eileen nodded. She had thought about this and had prepared. She handed a note to Atreides. The note said:
“I must be bound. They definitely said my hands must be bound behind my back or to some object that rendered them useless, and me helpless. Ties they suggested were hands behind back, wrists to ankles, wrists to thighs with ankles bound apart or together, hogtie, spreadeagle, half spreadeagle and probably a few others I missed.
I must be penetrated by a man's cock, orally, anally or vaginally while bound. I think it would be a good idea if I were to have an orgasm, but I'm not sure that it's necessary.
If I am not being penetrated orally, I must be gagged while being penetrated elsewhere. The gag must be a penetrative sort of gag -- a ball gag, or a dildo or vibrator held in place with a rope or straps. They were very firm on that point. The thing that gags me must be secured in place, you just can't stuff something in my mouth.
That's all there is to it. My only request is that you not hurt me as you do it. There are many yards of half inch cotton twine and some suitable gagging materials in the upper left hand bureau drawers at the foot of the bed. Please, take me and do as you will, it is so much easier for me if I don't have to ask.”
"I understand," said Atreides as he finished reading the note. Eileen, with her politician's well-developed sense of people's real feelings, knew he was lying. He probably thought all of this was an elaborate charade devised for the sake of her fantasies.
This was exactly what Atreides thought. A rich woman, unable to take responsibility for her own sexual urges. She had even talked Giuterrez into believing it. Oh, well, it did not matter. Atreides could take care of her needs. He could go along with it, he had gone along with much wilder fantasies.
"With your homouth, we'll need a safe-signal," said Atreides.
Eileen looked at Atreides inquiringly.
"Yes, if anything that is going on disturbs you or hurts you in any way, you need a signal to let me know about it so we can stop," said Atreides. "If you could speak, we'd have a safeword, but many women who enjoy bondage fantasies like to be gagged as well, and some have homouths, so safe signs are not at all rare. Perhaps you should flip me a bird if you have a problem. Or make three high-pitched squeals, very fast, in a row. You do not make such sounds while in the throes of passion, do you?"
Eileen blushed and shook her head "No," vaguely offended that she had even been asked the question. She did not have throes of passion.
What made it even worse, somehow, were the intense sexual feelings that now filled her, feelings she did not want to acknowledge. She did not know what her voice would have sounded like if she had a mouth. She found it a comfort, in a way, that all she had to do was look at Atreides and do as he said.
"OK, just to make sure we are clear on this, I want you to give the signals," said Atreides. "Flip the bird at me and squeal three times, very high pitches, very fast."
Eileen flipped Atreides the bird and let forth with three very fast, very high pitched squeals that mostly came through her nose.
"OK, if at any time you feel a need to stop the proceedings, you flip me the bird and squeal that squeal, and we'll stop whatever we're doing and take care of whatever the problem is. Understand?"
Eileen nodded her understanding. She knew she would not give the signals. After what she'd been through at the hands of the Sisters of Mercy, there was nothing this nice young man could do to make her uncomfortable enough to give the sign, when getting her mouth back was involved.
"Now, take off all your clothes," Atreides ordered.
It was as simple as that, Eileen realized. The order. She had to do it. And she really, really wanted to do it.
She began unbuttoning her blouse.
"Slowly, erotically," Atreides ordered. He was slowly, carefully, establishing a dominant tone with her. He knew just how to slide into her fantasies.
Eileen did not quite know how to undress erotically, since she had never done it in her life. In fact, had never tried to do anything erotically in her life. Even from childhood, she had been very proper, experiencing puberty only as a series of embarrassing assaults upon her sense of propriety. Raised by pious parents and strongly influenced by fourth wave feminists who had  incorporated religion into their feminism, she had experienced puberty not as growth but as an invasion of her selfhood by an alien sexuality. In a sense, the things that her enemies had done to her with the homouth had been just an extension of puberty.
Now she was ordered to behave erotically by a man who could restore her mouth to her face, and so she tried. She undressed slowly. She made subtle lifting movements with her hands as she removed garments. She wiggled her hips a little. But the underlying sense of desire that filled her did not inform her movements in any way, and so her movements were stiff, unnatural, and not at all erotic. A lifetime of repressing erotic feelings did not vanish just because she wore a homouth on her face and had enough sex hormones circulating in her body to turn Rhode Island into the sexual equivalent of a smoking crater.
What the hormones did was crank up the intensity of her emotions. She could not believe how fiercely she desired to be taken. She would have cried, fallen on the bed sobbing, if Atreides had declared himself unable to go through with it and left the room, and not just because it would have meant not getting rid of the homouth. Her sobs would have been sheer disappointment at not having sex.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Shameless Outlaws: A Fun Parody of Second Life Gor


Head straight to Amazon and buy "Shameless Outlaws" at this link or take the risk that for the rest of your like you will wish you had bought this book before everyone else did!

"Shameless Outlaws" by me, Pat Powers, is my first-ever actually-classified-as-such-by-Amazon romance novel, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. It's the story of Markus of Lothar, a world a lot like Second Life Gor. Markus is the semi-brave leader of a semi-bold band of outlaws, The Shameless Outlaws, and Silky is his slavegirl. They live in a world of constant raiding an fighting using weapons that don't kill but just render opponents unconscious if hit often enough. The weapons are technologically advanced but they look and work like bows and swords ... sort of like video game weaponry. When people are defeated in battle they enter the "Red Bubble of Unconsciousness."

Slinky is the former matriarch of a clan of cougar women, wild women who prowl the trackless forests of Lothar, fighting constantly with one another, kidnapping and using men sexually, and also having lots and lots of lesbian sex. Yet Slinky is inexplicably delighted with Markus and glad to be his slave. She's his big stupid stallion and she loves being ridden by him. There is much fun, consensual slavegirl sex to be had here, and it is had!

In short, this is a total parody of SL Gor, and the Gor novels, presenting a kinky video game as if it were an erotic romance. It was tremendous fun to write, I hope it is tremendous fun to read. So buy it and find out, or borrow it if you're on Kindle Unlimited, for nothing! Now that's a deal!

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

The Homouth Part 1: First Book In New Series By Pat Powers


"Is that a vagina where your mouth should be or are you just REAL glad to see me?"

You can find The Homouth on sale at Amazon here.

The latest in my collection of incredibly great stories to be published on Amazon is up. "The Homouth" the story of Eileen MacCammon, President of the United State, a strong, morally conservative woman who, on ascending the the Presidency, follows through on her campaign promise to wipe out sexual moral degeneracy in an America beset by economic woes. She imprisons hundreds of thousands of prostitutes, strippers and even erotica writers in her drive to bring moral purity to America. Then she goes a step further and begins imprisoning the clients of prostitutes, the fans of strippers, the viewers of erotica and the readers of erotica, by the millions, often bypassing the Constitutional protections of citizens on very flimsy pretexts.

The tables turn in the next election,when she and her party are swept out of power by a tidal wave of voters who are essentially voting to keep themselves out of jail.

For her crimes as President, MacCammon is given no jail time, but a new kind of sentence: she is stripped of all her Constitutional rights except her right to life. She walks out of the courtroom legally able to be kidnapped and used in any way her kidnappers like, so long as they do not kill her or permanently maim her.
She is soon kidnapped by her enemies, who subject her to quite a few torments, torments of the exact sort often seen in the erotica she has so vigorously suppressed.

But perhaps worst of all, her enemies use nanotechnology to place a homouth on her, transforming her mouth into a vagina. It's a technology widely used by sex workers, but they have the ability to control it, reverting to a normal mouth at will. MacCammon can only revert to a normal mouth by performing acts that she would have described as disgusting and vulgar before she had the homouth on her and found her power of speech reduced to making disgusting slucking sounds.

MacCammon's captors release her, but she soon finds that in her new, rights-free state she is in essence a fugitive slave, and eventually, a slavegirl, sold and resold by people who hate her and want to abuse her, and by those who simply want to use her.

And everyone, she finds, has a use for a former President of the United States who is now a rightless slave and who wears … the Homouth!

An Excerpt From The Homouth Part 1


She fought the evil women as hard as she could, but they were everywhere, all around her. Their hands went everywhere, to places she would never have put her hand, and twisted and tickled and slapped and pinched and poked and pulled and stroked and rubbed and she was helpless, helpless against them.

She had tried kicking with her legs, but they simply pulled her legs apart and wrapped leather cuffs around them at the ankle, and suddenly she was displayed as she was on an ob-gyn table.

They said horrible, nasty, revolting things about her body even as they probed and pried at it. They laughed at her while tears streamed down her face. She tried to cry out, but only disgusting slucking sounds would issue from the thing her mouth had become. She cried and her sobs were just more slucking sounds.

Worst of all, some of the women put their hands in her homouth, and probed and prodded the soft tissues there, and she could smell her own arousal on their fingers as they did. Of course, there were fingers Down There, in both places Down There, and on her nipples, and her thighs, and on every part of her.

Soon she felt her body responding with waves of overwhelming pleasure to the fingers inside her and on her, and despite the fact that she hated hated hated the women who were doing this thing to her, her back began to arch and her legs began to convulse, and she cried out into the sea of glittering eyes and pneumatic breasts above her, sent forth loud disgusting noises around the fingers that filled her homouth because she was coming coming they were making her come and they hated her and did not love her but they knew her body knew it and controlled it and when she came it was like the orgasms had been pulled out of her by the hands all around her.

Amazingly, they did not stop when she came, though she splorted a thick stream of liquid from her face that oozed down her chin and puddled in the hollow formed by her clavicle. They just kept touching her and mocking her and probing her and soon she was being overwhelmed by feelings again. And she realized that they were taking turns using her, that there were that many women here who wanted to hurt her in this way.

She did not understand. Her whole Presidency had been about protecting women. She had been women's savior, their friend, their rescuer from the vile, immoral corruption that society had become. Some few hundreds of thousands, of women had been put in jail for their deep immorality. Some few millions had lost husbands or fathers to her jails as well. But she could not believe such creatures could love their family and friends the way decent women like herself did.

Why had they done it? Why had the people and the courts let her be taken by these, her enemies, to be used so cruelly? She had done hard things, difficult things, some would say cruel things, but her goal had always been the protection and advancement of women. Surely they could see that. Surely ... oh god. One of them had put her whole fist up Eileen's ass. She cried out in surprise and pain and they all cheered to hear the startled sluck that came out of her homouth.

This went on for some time she could not determine. Hours, at least. Perhaps a day. She became exhausted and could not resist them any longer, and not even the firmest slap or the most excruciating pinch in the most excruciating place would get a response from her.

So they dragged her to her cell, and chained her to the floor spreadeagled, and hosed her off, and then let her sleep, for she passed out as soon as the water stopped hitting her.

The next day, things got worse.


"Surely ... oh god! One of them had put her whole fist up Eileen's ass."
An image that might have come directly from the Homouth Part 1. Actually, it's from WhippedAss.com.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

This Beauty Product Is A Beaut!


The fact that the beauty product in question is from Japan is totally unsurprising.

Here's a VERY intriguing Japanese product from Ana Kasparian's "The Point." You have to watch the video to see what it's about, all I have to say is, any beauty product that involved wearing what appears to be a large ballgag and making blowjob motions with your head is A-OK in my book, whether it works or not! Having sexy news babes Ana Kasparian and Gina Grad discussion it does not hurt at all ... Ana's expression after airing the clip alone is worth the time it takes to watch the clip. "The Point with Ana Kasparian" has evolved into quite the fun little Youtube show.

By the way, Ana Kasaparian has a bondage porn clone. You can see for yourself here and here.

Monday, August 25, 2014

The Art of Porn: Getting the Big Picture


Art is in the eye of the beholder. Image source: inthecrack.com.

Here's an interesting picture from a website called "in the crack," which is clearly designed for men (or women) who are deeply interested in knowing what women's vaginas look like from close up. The model in this case is Bernice, it's a still from a video/photo shoot of her. She has a brilliant smile and a healthy glow about her.

But the thing that I found interesting about the photo, other than Bernice's vagina which is very nice looking indeed, is the way it is composed.

That's right, the way it is composed. Look at it, the top half of the picture is divided into two halves, with the black mass of rock defining one half and the sky the other. In the lower half, Bernice's right leg zooms in from outside the focal plane and right in the middle of the curve of her right ass cheek you find the point where the rock and sky and the water level that splits the image horizontally meet. It's a classic center point perspective, your eye literally drawn to it by the elements of the image.

In addition, the mass of Bernice's butt in the bottom left of the picture is a counterpoint to the dark mass of the rocks in the upper left of the picture. It's a light-colored mass as oppposed to a dark colored mass, but it's an analogue to the upper half. On the upper right we have a brilliant portrait of Bernice's face. I mean, the sort of thing that many models would be glad to have as a portfolio piece:


"Say "Cheese!"

Admit it, if you saw this picture in an ad for a frosty breath mint or a vacation paradise or dental floss, you wouldn't give it a second thought. It would fit right in. It's a very nice portrait, using the sky to frame Bernice's face, with the blues, yellows and whites of the cloudy sky providing a nice contrast to the pinks and browns of her skin. The only giveaway that it's not a simple portrait is the tip of the clump of trees coming out of her shoulder, which in the context of the whole photo, makes her seem gigantic.

Which is a clue, in conjunction with the way the image was composed. This is not a simple nude portrait, it's a combination of landscape and nude portrait. The image was conceived and shot as a landscape, you can tell that because the thinking that went into it is exactly the same kind of thinking that landscape artists and photographers use to create images. The upper left, though, is a straight up portrait of Bernice's face, incorporated into the overall landscape created by her body and the background.

In fact, Bernice's body is an essential part of the landscape. Imagine the photo without her body in it. It would still be a nice landscape, but a trifle dull, with the water filling the entire lower half of the image, the rocky cliff filling the entire upper left and the sky filling the entire upper right. A simple three part composition. Bernice's body and face break up the composition into something more complex and interesting.

Which leads us to another point: the landscape art techniques the photographer used to create the image also serve its pornographic purposes. Because to be a perfect counterpoint to the rocky mass above it, Bernice's butt would have to be a more or less featureless mass. But it's not a featureless mass, right in the middle of it is Bernice's vagina and anus. The highlights and shadows of Bernice's labia are particularly strong, and kind of jump out at you in the photo. Your eyes are drawn to them because they are an irregularity in the big, smooth masses that dominate the left half of the composition.

Of course, your eyes are ALSO drawn to them, because male eyes tend to really glom on to a woman's vagina when it's in view. It's primordial, instinctual and just plain fun. But the thing is, the composition reinforces this very strongly, and your eyes ALSO go toward the vagina because it's drawn there by the fact that it breaks up the composition. Like a crack in an otherwise perfectly smooth wall, if you will. The COMBINATION of these factors REALLY makes Bernice's vagina pop off the page, with a force that would not otherwise exist, and is not present in most images of women's vaginas.


Go ahead, get a good look. You know you want to.

And here's the thing. Some people will be able to see nothing but Bernice's vagina, because they LURVE looking at vaginas and such images are as catnip to a cat for them. Others will be able to see nothing but Bernice's vagina because they hate looking at vaginas, and sex in general, and the whole picture is porn, nothing but disgusting, awful porn, because VAGINA.

I'm just saying, look at the whole picture. The big picture. You'll get more out of it that way. People who can ONLY see the vagina are losing out, when a picture has more going for it than just the elements most people call "pornographic."

To close out my case, here's a link to another shot of Bernice from the same photoset. It doesn't have nearly the same power as the photo presented here, and not just because Bernice's vagina is not visible in this one. The composition is not nearly as focused and powerful. It's still a very nice picture, as Bernice is still beautiful as is the land and water and sky around her. But that's all you can say for it, it's very nice. The picture at the top of the page ... it's got it going on!

Monday, August 18, 2014

Just TRY To Read The Fine Print


Here we have the "Fifty Shades of Grey" contract reading scene as imagined by prudes and gender feminists who of course have never read the book. Image courtesy of the good folks at TrainingofO.com.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Actual Belly Dancer Belly Dances


Actual belly dancer doing an actual belly dance. The first one is the example I find most likely, but this actually an entire playlist of 99 different belly dances, so ... bon appetit.

In some of the preceding videos, you will note that I stated that the dances being seen are not belly dances. That's true, strictly speaking, even though all of them use some elements of belly dance. Generally, the nakeder the dancers are, the less actual belly dancing is going on. It's a rule of thumb, I have seen completely naked women doing a dance that is at least close to belly dancing. For example, some of the dancers in the "Actual Naked Belly Dancers" video are doing actual hip drops and shimmies, if not particularly well.

I picked the video above, not because it's the best belly dance I've ever seen from an aesthetic point of view, but because it illustrates the sort of moves that constitute belly dance: hip drops, shimmies, shoulder rolls, etc., along with the expressive use of the hands (though I've seen much more effective use of hands by other dancers).

Princess Jasmine's belly dancing is a lot faster-paced than many other belly dancers but that's just a function of the song she's selected. Here's a belly dancer whose pacing is slower much of the time, but there's the same fine control of her body as she moves, especially the hips, stomach and torso. (Also some very nice hand gestures. Embedding is not allowed on this video, but you can see it on this link.

Here's a video that will give you some glimpse of how belly dancing can work when The Sexy is interjected into it: a gorgeous dancer with a very nice set of silicone implants dresses in a notably scantier costume than the others. In the last third of the dance she shows some very nice hip and torso moves. I imagine that integrated with a naked exotic dancer's deliberately sexy moves and I go "Mmmmmmmm."

Some skilled dancer may very well have already done this, but ... haven't seen it yet.

Now when you see a stripper or exotic dancer just rolling her hips and calling it belly dance, you'll know the difference. Public service accomplished!

Oh, and if you liked those belly dance videos, just subscribe to Aw Jaan's channel. You could learn a lot about belly dance by watching Aw Jaan's playlist at the top of this page, and have fun while you're at it.