Monday, January 6, 2014

The maximally outrageous future of fantasy-Emily; plus Winter Spanks prize announcement!

First, I'd like to thank the organizers and sponsors of Winter Spanks for a tremendous blog-hop! It was a vast undertaking, and they pulled it off with aplomb and even ├ęclat!

Second, the lucky winner of a PDF copy of the Companion, Volume 1 is Laurel Lasky! Congratulations, Laurel!

Third, rather than flogging The Count's Discipline yet again (though I think Sophia probably wouldn't mind another flogging, as long as it came from Robert), I'm going to treat you to a true sneak peek of the final book of EXPLORATIONS proper, now in progress and tentatively titled Emily's Castle. In it, shockingly enough, everyone nice finds a way to live happily for the foreseeable future.

On the way there, however, everyone passes through Prophettown in one manner or another. And Prophettown is just as naughty a place as you might imagine it is. For example, at their Midsummer Festival, they have some very special athletic contests.

VITSKY WARNING: The potential for squicking (that is, hotness turning into disgust in the blink of an eye) in the following excerpt has been rated 11 out of 10.
I looked out the big picture window. A crowd of young women had gathered on the track, at one end of the grandstand. The big monitor now showed a medium shot of that same group, interspersed with close-ups of various contestants, who were stretching to prepare themselves, as friends (other naked girls) and coaches (two middle-aged women, five or six mostly middle-aged men in shorts and polo-shirts looking strange among the naked girls) covered them in sunscreen. Most of them had sports-bras on, I saw with relief. The camera-work and editing were so tasteful that it was possible to think that the really rather breath-taking shots of their backsides, and of course of their near-universally shaved pussies, were just in the way of introducing us to the contenders.

"And there's Mary Boswell, the favorite," said Frank. Her blonde hair was tied back in a French braid. A red-headed friend was rubbing sunscreen on her back, and the camera stayed with them as Mary herself applied the sunscreen to her own backside. At that point the producer, it appeared, couldn't resist the charm of a low angle shot that showed the way the application of the sunscreen moved Mary's young pussy, but he or she held the shot only for a few moments. 
"Lovely," said Joe. "Her coach is Jeff Carter, and he was telling me yesterday that he likes to fuck Mary both before and after her training sessions--that's a bit novel: many coaches say that fucking a girl before she trains is a no-no, and some of them even think that girls in training shouldn't get any fucking at all, but it's hard to blame coach Carter when you see that sweet little puss on Mary. We caught some of that action during Mary's final warm-up." 
There was a cut to a locker-room, where a middle-aged man was enjoying Mary from behind over a bench. He was saying, "Good girl; there you go. Ride it hard, now. You're a winner; make coach come, now." 
"Jesus Christ," I said. "This place is unbelievable." 
"You're just figuring that out?" asked Charles, drily.

No comments:

Post a Comment