The Man Spell (3)


Even for July it was super hot, so Franny slipped out of her day things and went out into her garden to cool down. Somewhere an owl hooted, and comforted by the familiar sound she sat on her moon swing and pondered the universe.  In a little while her two friends would join her for a magical lesson.


The slight evening breeze was refreshing, and she lifted her leg and let it drape casually over the tip of the crescent. The cool air felt good on her exposed parts, so she set both feet to the floor and pushed off into the air, spreading her legs wide open as she swung. The breeze caught the crease of her vulva and chilled the wet deliciousness within.

“We’re here, Franny,” shouted a squeaky voice. Lenora and Sadie Satyr were two twin sister witches, recently arrived from Sweden to learn more about their craft. “Ooh that looks like fun,” said Lenora.  “It’s such a hot night.”

“Take off your things and hop on,” smiled Franny. “There’s nothing like a moonlight swing to cool you down.”

Without hesitation the two sisters stripped to their bare skin and waited their turn. Both twins were classic Scandinavian blondes with pale skin, and nipples that were almost indiscernible in the pale moonlight. They had small, boyish backsides, and both were clean shaven down below.

“Would you like a push?” suggested Sadie.

“I’d love one,” Franny confessed.  She beamed her brightest smile and took a firmer grip on the rope. As Sadie pushed on the crescent swing she flew higher and higher into the sky, and the cool air worked its own magic on her nipples which hardened like round jewels.

“My turn, my turn,” shrieked the ever impatient Lenora. Her tiny breasts bounced as she hopped on her feet. Always indulgent, Franny smiled and brought her swing to a stop.

“Play away,” she said, and sat down to wait patiently on the cool lawn grass. “But soon we should get down to business.  You wanted me to teach you the Man Spell. I hope you both brought your wands?”

Both sisters nodded, and then set about taking turns on the swing. Franny gazed fondly at the bare womanhood between their legs as each rose up before her. Their tiny breasts bounced freely with each rise and fall, and laughter filled the small garden in that hidden valley. After a while, Franny grew bored with watching, and lay back to stare at the cloudless sky.

Franny’s thoughts were interrupted by Sadie, who had left her sister to swing unaided. “While Lenora plays, would you like me to pleasure you?” the young witch asked.

The girl sat so close that Franny could feel the warmth of her skin. She reached up and gently caressed the young woman’s blonde locks. “Yes, Sadie. I would like that very much.”

Sadie smiled and slipped onto the grass beside her mentor. She cupped her head in her hand, while her free hand slipped down between Franny’s legs. At first she stroked her ever so gently, playing with the folds of skin around her vulva. Franny closed her eyes, and focused on the young woman’s expert hand.  She groaned a little as the deft fingers caressed her silken hair, and then plunged into the warm, fleshy crevice and on into her secret place.  Then the moistened fingers came back to the surface, circling ever upwards to the small clitoris crowning her pussy.  Though Franny’s eyes were closed she sensed Sadie watched her intently.  She knew the girl listened to her breathing, and her rhythm changed in tune with Franny’s every gasp and moan.

“I’m gonna make you come,” Sadie whispered in her ear.

“You guys are having all the fun,” laughed Leonora. “Save something for me.”

Franny’s eyes remained closed, and her heart didn’t skip a beat as the second woman pried her legs apart. “Oh goody, you’ve got her all wet for me,” she laughed. Franny felt a warm head come close to her pussy, and a hungry set of lips closed around her clitoris and began to suck in earnest. Two trim fingers probed into her open pussy, then three, and a fourth finger pressed into her backside to pleasure her there.

“You have such beautiful, full breasts,” Sadie said with delight. Franny felt her warm breath tickle her skin.  A moment later a hand grasped the soft flesh forcing as much as possible into her gaping mouth, all the while her playful tongue teasing and tasting her.

Lenora paused for a brief moment to get some air. Come for us, sweet Franny,” she said. No sooner had the words escaped her lips than she nuzzled back into the wet pussy beneath her and sucked and swirled and tickled the engorged clit before her.

Franny hadn’t the will to fight her release for long.  She felt the stirring of a small fire down below, which grew in intensity then exploded, sending sparkly showers of pleasure into every crevice of her body. “Oh sweet heaven!” Franny cried out, and her hand flew down to caress Lenora’s head, pressing her down hard onto her exposed nub.

Satisfied, she opened her eyes. Sadie met her gaze first; her sweet smile enhanced by the moist saliva on her lips, which just a few seconds ago had feasted on her nipple.  Franny’s eyes melted in thanks, and she pulled the young witch to her and kissed her sweetly on the mouth.

Franny then looked down.  Lenora had lifted herself up onto her elbows and now played idly with the soft, wet vulva. She slipped her fingers into Franny’s moist pussy, and smiled up at her mentor, delighted to have given so much satisfaction. “You have learnt well, my beautiful friend,” Franny said.

Franny’s hand sought her own nipples, now a little raw from so much attention.  They felt hot to touch, but the pain and titillation had given her much pleasure, and she felt no cause for complaint.

With a well-satisfied sigh, Franny sat up and stretched her arms towards the open sky. “Just a moment’s respite, my lovelies,” she said. “In a little while I’ll recover and will teach you the man spell, as I promised.”

The twins both rose to sit cross legged in front of their mentor.  For now, there was silence, and the three women sat and basked in their glorious nudity under a full and very wicked summer moon.

To be continued…



Franny Carbunkle sat by the window and stared at the frogs as they leapt on the frosty grass. Her new wand dangled idly in her hand, and every now and then she’d point it at a sparrow and ‘zap,’ she’d create a new frog.  Franny sighed, bored with her day.

franny carbunkle


The street was quiet, it was Thanksgiving morning and everybody stayed warmly inside, sharing the holiday with family and friends. Tired of messing with birds, Franny set about making herself a nice cup of tea.  Once ready, her rosy lips puckered together to cool the beverage down, and as she did so, she surveyed her humble home. Photographs of her posing with celebrity humans adorned every inch of wall space. Most were signed “To Franny, my favorite sexy witch,” or something very similar.

Pah! Today they were just blank faces on the wall that gave her no pleasure. What she really wanted at this moment was some hot and horny man flesh – which would be hard to find with all the lovely man-things hidden away for the holidays.  Franny’s eyes landed on a picture of Jed Carter, a 1980s soap actor she’d lusted after as a teen-witch.  Then zap! Her bird watching morning inspired a sexy idea.  She deposited her mug on the kitchen counter and opened her window.  Another flick of her wand and a wild male turkey came flying in past her ear. It settled on an iron frying pan stored over the stove top, and greeted her with a twitch of his tail and a pile of poop on the hob.

“Thanks,” Franny smirked.


‘Poof.’ One moment later the bird transformed into a life-size version of Jed Carter, only the fake Jed came with a few… enhancements.

Franny admired her handiwork, and went to inspect the naked actor as he stood confused by the stove. “Well hello there bird-Jed,” said Franny, as her fingers traced the hard muscles along his arms.

“Hello,” said Jed. His eyes opened wide with wonder, and he looked across to the window.  Franny sensed he was wondering how he was going to fly back out of that.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Franny continued. “It’s the holiday season, and I’ve brought you here to share the food at my table and to play festive holiday games. Would you like that?”

“Sure,” said Jed.

Franny’s lace-gloved hand slipped down to Jed’s enhanced manhood, and once in her hand, it stretched out and grew to the size and thickness of an English cucumber. “Not bad,” said Franny.

“Food first,” said Jed.

“As you wish.” With another flick of her wand a cupboard opened and a box of flax seed flew into Franny’s hand. She wafted the open box tantalizingly under Jed’s nose, and he took a step forward, eager to eat. “Not so fast, my lovely,” she said. Franny slipped out of her black shift-dress and the dark fabric fell in a clump at her feet. Beneath it all she wore a bra, panties and hose, and she stepped a sexy leg out from the pile of clothes. “Follow me, bird-Jed,” she smiled.

Jed took her hand and she led him from the kitchen into her naughty bedroom. The photos in this room were far more erotic, and Franny posed in compromising positions with the images of past lovers. Her bed was circular and covered in a green lacy mesh, which she pulled off and let fall casually onto the floor.  She removed her bra and panties, left the hose, and then bounced onto the bed, where she immediately poured the seed on her chest. “Come lick if off, bird-man.”

Jed seemed to like the idea of so much food in one spot, and crashed down on the bed beside her. His tongue worked eagerly, lapping up all the flax and when devoured, she poured more of the seed on her nipples to keep him busiest there. Franny groaned as the pecking kisses set her breasts alight, and tiny seeds oozed all over the sheets and caught up in all sorts of strange places.

“I need to drink,” said bird-Jed.

Franny smiled and spread her legs wide to expose her clean-shaven lower self. “Try sucking down there, it might take a while, but the longer you suck, the better the water will be.”

Jed shrugged but did as instructed. “Okay. I’m used to finding water in all kinds of strange cracks and holes.”

Jed slid down between her legs and in accordance with her instructions began to suck on the tiny button he found there. Franny’s ass danced with delight on the bed sheets as the bird-Jed sucked harder and harder. “Put your hands inside me, it might make the waters come faster,” she said. Jed’s thick fingers prodded and probed as his mouth sucked and tongue circled on the stubborn nub. “Ohhh, I feel it,” groaned Franny. “”Yes, the water… is… coming.” And as her release came she held onto Jed’s hairy head and almost pulled him into her.

“I have no water,” said Jed.

“Perhaps you need to probe deeper,” Franny suggested.  “Use that.” She pointed to his large curvy cock, and seeing the sense in this, Jed climbed on top of her and plundered her wet cavern. “Keep probing with that, I’m pretty sure that will do it,” laughed Franny. And so Jed thrashed away inside her, pushing harder and harder, hoping to find the water he sought.

Suddenly, a change came over Jed, and Franny knew he’d come to like this activity more than any other. As his passion increased, he began to groan loudly, and Franny opened her legs wide to receive the ocean of come on its way. As bird-Jed plowed deep into her, she reached her second climax of the morning and content with this most excellent stuffing, lay back to let the sweat cool off her skin.

“Not a bad start to the holidays,” Franny smiled. She crawled off the bed, and left bird-Jed to stare at the ceiling, a curious smile on his once beak. “Someone deserves a bucket of water.” And with that, she skipped away to the kitchen to bring her new lover his just desserts. A moment later she returned.  As Jed slurped down the offered pail of water, she thoughtfully nibbled the end of her wand and whispered a word of thanks for the Man Spell.


Cold comfort

The icy water cut into Violet’s naked flesh and she snorted the water out. She shook violently, the cold penetrating her very marrow.  As her skin contracted, the tiny goose bumps on her torso screamed for attention, and her nipples became hard and angry.

Jacob put the ice bucket on the cellar floor and walked around her. Violet could sense his eyes on her body, appraising her, wondering if she’d had enough.  He took his time, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw in her peripheral vision he’d picked up a riding crop along the way.

“So, do you wish to revise your earlier statement?” Jacob said coldly.

Violet clenched her lips and shook her head.  Her arms were tied above her, and she struggled against the coarse rope from which she now stood suspended. Her toes barely grazed the floor below, and she struggled not to swing freely.

Jacob moved in front of her to study her face. “You still don’t think I can inflict more pain than you can take?” He raised his upper lip in doubt, and then gently brushed the tip of the crop across her pert nipple. “Then I have your permission to test your theory, further.”

Violet nodded, and Jacob smiled his approval.

Before Jacob tied her earlier, he’d told her to strip down to bare flesh and left her alone for several hours before coming to get her. He’d denied her food, allowing her only a little water in a plastic cup by the table.  Violet sat on a cold, metal chair and waited for her new Master’s return, her eyes never leaving the small basement window.  How she’d both longed and dreaded his return. As the shadows lengthened she heard his key in the door, and stood, cold and vulnerable, ready to do his bidding. This was a test she would not fail.

Jacob flexed the crop in his hand, then ran it down her belly and let it hover between her thighs. She kept herself well trimmed, and he studied her womanhood closely.

“This must go,” Jacob said.  “I want you bare.”

Violet nodded.  Quick as a flash Jacob whipped her thigh with the crop.  Violet winced, but didn’t cry out.  “You will address me as Sir, or Master.”

“Yes, Sir,” Violet said meekly.

“You will be mine to use as I see fit. If I wish to share you with others, you will say thank-you, Sir, and nothing more. I may also wish to see you with other women. You will comply.”


Another crack of the whip.

“Yes, Sir.”

Violet was rewarded for her compliance by the sensation of a light stroke from his hand on the curve of her breast.  “You are exquisite,” Jacob said.  As he toyed with her nipple, Violet sensed he was considering something. She knew better than to ask what is was.

“I will leave you for a moment. I will not be long.” His words were tender, but without apology. She heard his footsteps on the wooden stairs, and wondered what he had in mind. Then she heard the second voice.  When Jacob came back down into the basement, he was not alone. Jacob stood in front of her, and though she sensed the second man in the room, she couldn’t see him.

“You will not speak to my friend, is that understood?”

Violet was desperate to know the identity of the other man, but though her eyes pleaded, Jacob refused her the satisfaction of an answer. “If you are really mine, as you promised me earlier, then you are mine to use entirely as I see fit.” He stepped so close she could feel his warm breath on her frozen skin. “You have only to say no, and this will go no further. You know the safe word.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You give me your consent to use you as I wish?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Jacob kissed her lips more tenderly than he’d ever done before.  She leaned into him, but as she gravitated towards him he pulled away. “No,” he said. “You say your pleasure is pain. Tonight you will prove it.” Once again he stroked the soft skin of her breast, and then his hand wandered to her pussy where he probed her gently and felt the wetness between her thighs. “Promising,” he said, rubbing the sticky moistness between forefinger and thumb.  “Let’s see what really lubricates you.”

Jacob reached forward and passed the crop back to the man behind her, still waiting in the shadows.  He then took a few steps back, and nodded for the other man to begin.

‘Crack.’ Violet felt the crop catch the top of her thighs, sending fire-hot pain up her spine and to her brain. She clenched her teeth and eyes but didn’t cry out, she’d endured worse before.


‘Crack.’ This time the whip slashed right across Violet’s backside.  She lunged forward and lost her balance, and swiveled suspended in the air. Though she didn’t turn full circle she did catch a glimpse of her torturer behind her. Not that it helped at all, for he wore a balaclava to conceal his face.

The moment Violet regained balance, Jacob nodded and the crop came down again, harder each time, making her forget the cold, the presence of the stranger, even Jacob. There was only her, and the pain. The terrible pain.

After five strokes Jacob raised his hand. “You’ve done well little one. Now it’s time for the second test.”

Violet felt the stranger move in close behind her. As he untied her bonds she felt the rough fabric of his denim and she could smell him.  The stranger smelled of oil and grease, he had rough hands, and there were no gentleness in his handling of her. He seemed the opposite of Jacob, who dressed in suits and always smelled of expensive cologne. She dare not turn to face him, but burned inside with curiosity to know who he was.

Once her hands were released, Violet fell helplessly to the cold wet floor. And then there he was, Jacob, instantly by her side. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and cupped her chin so she looked into his face.

“You are doing well, little baby, I’m very pleased with you. But there is more. You may still say no.”

“No, thank you, Sir,” Violet replied. “I promised you I am yours. And I am, till death.”

Jacob lifted her to her feet, and smiled his approval. With her back still to the stranger, he walked her over to the metal chair. He pushed Violet down over it sideways, and she needed both hands to balance herself on the floor in front. Jacob stood in front of her, and unzipped his pants. In a moment, his hard cock sprang freely from its prison, and he pulled her up and put her hands on his hips so she could steady herself there. Jacob guided her mouth to his cock but she needed no further instruction, Violet knew what he wanted.

Jacob’s manhood was engorged and swollen, and Violet wanted to pleasure him so desperately, she wanted him to know how good she could be for him, and tried to take as much of the shaft into her greedy mouth as nature would allow.  And then she felt the stranger’s rough hands on her exposed buttocks.  His calloused fingers probed inside her, after which she felt his denimed knee forcing her legs apart, positioning himself behind her.  With a violet thrust, she felt him push into her.

Though her legs chaffed on the cold metal she knew better than to complain. Jacob arched over her head and she felt his smooth hands, following the welt lines across her buttocks and back. It was so hard a position; she had so little room and could hardly breathe. Her tongue flicked strong and firmly across his skin, and she sensed he was close to release.

As the stranger pounded harder and harder into her pussy, she felt the familiar rise of her own thrall, and was afraid she might climax before either of them.  She groaned around the corners of her mouth, and as she did so, Jacob’s fingers probed her anus and pushed down as if trying to push down into her vaginal wall. It was too much; with his cock still in her mouth she felt the tension rise and escape wantonly from her lips.  Even as she reached climax, the other man pumped his semen into her, slamming her pussy as hard as he could, cutting her flesh with the ill-positioned tip of his zipper.  When the man pulled away, Jacob pulled out from her hungry mouth and stepping quickly behind her, pushed into her buttocks.  Without his body for support she hung awkwardly down to the floor, her hands grazing on the roughly cemented surface.

“Is this what you wanted, little baby?” Jacob asked, as he plowed her protruding backside.  His thrusts grew quicker and more urgent, and she felt his hand slip down under to her soaking pussy, where he toyed roughly with her already swollen clit. Violet gasped but failed to respond in time, so he slapped her hard across the thigh.

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

“If I asked you to fuck a thousand men, would you do it for me?” he asked through gritted teeth. He was so close now.

“Yes, Sir, whatever you want. I am yours.”

Jacob bent low over her back and took her breasts in his hands.  There was no tenderness now, he pulled her nipples so hard she wanted to cry out, and her refusal to cry seemed to excite him all the more. He lunged forward and grabbed her hair, pulling her back to him so he could feast on her lips. She’d no choice but to rise up and hold onto the seat and back of the chair for support. With one hand on her breast and their tongues entwined, he reached his own climax and thrust deep into her backside.  His cry was uninhibited and complete, she felt him shudder and his penis throbbed as his release pulsed into her wanton backside.

Once he was spent, Jacob wasted no time in cleaning himself off on a handkerchief and covering up his nakedness.“ No, don’t get up,” he said. Violet guessed he wanted to admire his handiwork a little longer. Prostate and with her rear fully exposed, she did exactly as he commanded. She always would.

He did not make her wait long. Jacob pulled her up ever so gently, and as he did so, covered her in a pure white toweling robe. It smelled of fabric softener, and was a warm relief after his harsh treatment. Violet looked up, but the stranger had already slipped away.

“Did I please you, Sir?” she asked.

“Yes, very much so. You’ve fulfilled all my wishes for this evening. Now it’s my turn to treat you like a Goddess.”

And true to his word, Jacob took her tiny hand in his, and gently kissed her open palm. With his arm around her shoulder, he led her to the stairs, with the promise of a hot shower and whatever sandwich his refrigerator could muster.


I wrote this story some time ago but struggled to find a market for it. It sits somewhere in the shadows between erotica, comedy and drama. Still, I’m very fond of the story, and wanted to share it with you all.  Regards, Sparkly.



With an audible ‘pop’ Charlotte’s nipple pastie left her breast and flew through the air. It landed on the old man’s lap. Before she could reach it, the old man at her stage reached down and grabbed it.  Charlotte was surprised but didn’t show it. The man was at least ninety, if a day.   Before letting it go the cheeky chap licked it. Still, she took the heart-shaped pastie from his hand and stuck it back on her nipple.

“Thanks,” she said, as she blew him a kiss. He grinned so wide she could see the bright pink plastic gums of his dentures.

For the next hour she wiggled her way around the pole.   Business was fairly slow. Two guys she hadn’t seen before sat at the stage. Totally absorbed, they talked business and only spared her an occasional glance.  It didn’t matter. As her butt jived to ‘Body Talk’ her head was in the grocery store planning dinner for her little boy.

“Back in a mo,” said the older man who headed to the bathroom.  The younger man turned to watch the show.  His eyes roamed freely over her body, and as Charlotte now had his full attention, she danced a little more suggestively.  She swooped low down the pole, and then swung round, flashing her backside just a few inches from his face.  She turned round to face him again, jiggling her boobs with gusto, recognizing a potential big tipper by his expensive shirt and suit.

The young man watched appreciatively, and then jumped as something went ‘plonk’ into his drink.  He cursed loudly as his Bloody Mary splashed over his white shirt.

“What the …?”  He frantically rubbed at the stain. Charlotte climbed off the stage for the second time that evening.

Frankie the floor manager walked over to see what was going on. He arrived just as Charlotte fished out the pastie from the man’s glass. He shook his head and beckoned to one of the waitresses.  “Get this gentleman a refill.”

“I’m so sorry,” shouted Charlotte over the loud music.  She grabbed a napkin off the table to help him clean. He brushed her away, clearly not interested in her apologies. “Just buzz off will ya!” he spat.  “Bloody tart!”

His friend returned from the bathroom. When he saw the stain on his companion’s shirt, the younger man nodded to Charlotte. The older man glared at Charlotte as if she was a piece of dirt.

At a nod from Frankie, Charlotte headed back to the stripper’s changing room. There was a note on the door. It read: Charlotte – See Clive.

She sighed.  She could guess what he wanted.  One of the new girls got caught doing a little side business with some of the clients. The house rule was clear on this. No prostitution; especially with members of the club.

She opened a drawer by the dresser mirror and pulled two fresh gold star pasties from a plastic jar. With the pasties securely in place, she was just re-touching the glitter she used on her upper body when Clive himself walked in.

“Ow’s my favorite gal?” he asked, opening his arms in greeting, Mafia style. Charlotte glanced at him sideways.  Here it comes, she thought.  “I need a l’il favor,” he grinned, and gave her his most charming East-End smile.  “Sorry babes, I ‘ad to let go one of me gals.   Would you do the next shift for me, pleeeeze?”

“Gee I dunno Charlie; them guys seemed pretty upset with me.”

“Don’t worry about those oiks, I’ll make sure they don’t bother you.”

Charlotte agreed. “Cost you an extra tenner, Charlie. I’ll have to call the baby-sitter, ask her to stay late.”

“All right, all right. You drive a hard bargain, gal.”  He gave her a friendly pat on the backside and watched as she walked to the pay phone in the hallway.


After a double shift, Charlotte woke up exhausted. But it had been worth it, she’d pulled in more tips than she’d seen in a long time. She showered and dressed in her favorite jeans and Lady Gaga tee, headed to the cafe next door.

“Hello Charlotte,” Liz said, smiling and already fixing Charlotte’s latte.  She was a stout woman, probably in her late fifties, and the two women often stopped for a good natter.

“How’s business?” Charlotte asked, as she looked around the empty cafe.

“Bloody slow, luv,” the other woman complained.

The door behind her opened, and Charlotte looked back to see a well-dressed woman pushing a baby in a small buggy. She was in a foul mood.  A man squeezed by, trying to be helpful, and held the door open for her.  The woman barged passed him, in no mood to be placated.

“You must think I’m an idiot. Bloody working all night my arse! I know a Bloody Mary stain when I see one, and you reek of alcohol!”

Embarrassed, the man looked about the place to see who, if anyone was listening. His gaze met Charlotte’s, and she recognized him as the man from the club.  In that same second he recognized her. Embarrassed, he looked away.

Charlotte listened as his partner screamed insult after insult at him, and wondered at his change in demeanor.  He wasn’t the cocky, arrogant dickhead from the night before.  She walked to the door, where he still stood.  Patiently, she waited for him to open the door.

Charlotte smiled. The young man looked dismayed, clearly afraid she would tell his wife he’d been in a men’s club to watch tarts wiggle their arses. Awkwardly, he made a lunge for the handle, and stood back to allow her to pass.

She wanted to say hello, nice to see you again, to add a little extra zing to his already bad morning.  It might have made her laugh, but really, what was the point?

She walked out with her head held high, and went home to see her son.



Thursday, November 8, 2012

WIP Mini Blog Hop: Go!

I was tagged by one Author in the Next Big Thing: Authors Tagging Authors…also known as the WIP Blog Hop. Thanks for the tag! I feel special …  :P

Here are the rules:

  • Give credit to the person/blog that tagged you
  • Post the rules for this hop
  • Answer these ten questions about your current WIP (Work In Progress) on your blog
  • Tag five other writers/bloggers and add their links so we can hop over and meet them
  • 1. What is the working title of your book?
  • Drench the Wench
  • 2. What genre does the book fall under?
  • UF erotic romance with M/M~ M/F and naughty creatures doing mischievous deeds.
  • 3. Which actors would you choose to play your characters for the movie rendition?

    I would choose Simon Callow for Whipgood as I had his cheeky smile in mind when I wrote my naughty gay harpy (author note: no implications made regarding this actor’s sexuality.)

  • Emma Stone gets my vote as Cindy Buttsplash, my Drench the Wench heroine, as she has the makings of a real sexy witch with those beautiful features.
  • 4. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
  • At a Renaissance Fair, naughty happenings go on behind the marquees.
  • 5. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
  • The collection will be published by Blushing Books possibly later this year, possibly early next year.  Watch this space for future announcements.

  • 6. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
  • Four weeks. I was hot and horny for a whole month. It was frightening.
  • 7. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
  • You know that’s a toughie. This is kinda new. Naughty Narnia meets Robin Hood and his far too merry men.
  • 8. Who or what inspired you to write this book?
  • I love renaissance fairs. I go every year and often wonder what naughtiness is going on behind the scenes.
  • I love writing erotica and fantasy. If your brain is engaged, the whole erotic experience is a thousand times better.
  • 9. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
  • There’s something for everyone here. I think the most important things are the colorful characters. I mean, who else is writing about stage-struck harpies reciting horny poetry and attracting all kinds of dark creatures in the dead of night?
  • Question #10
  • Tag, you’re it!
  • I ’tagged’ the following authors:   @at_quinn     @DosCleve   @AVioletEnd  @ShoshannaEvers   @YasminCavendis

The Man Spell

Fancy a quickie?  Here’s a short naughty scene to get you in the mood. After all, it’s bedtime isn’t it?  Lay back and let the magic happen…


My name is Franny Carbunkle and I’m a witch. I’ve been a very naughty witch.  Today I was at the Renaissance festival – I confess I love those events.  It’s the only time of year I can dress as myself.

Franny knickers

A delicious-looking man dressed as Robin Hood walked towards me. He wore the most wonderful tight, green hose. Inside the material showed the promise of delicious man-ness. He stared at my boobs.  I’d dressed naughtily and my nipples were slightly visible. He winked as I passed by.

“Are you a naughty Robin?” I asked him.

“Why don’t you cast a spell on me and find out?”

“Why not!”

Before you could say, Abracadabra, I whipped out my wand and whispered the Man Spell.

Robin’s cheeky grin transformed into a very horny ‘fuck me,’ look. I took him by the hand, and together we sought out a dark little corner for our sexy magic.

There was a secluded, but convenient, little hut behind the Drench The Wench enclosure. I took him there, and with a flick of my wand, he stripped naked in front of me.

“Enchanting,” I said. Robin had a worthy magical wand of his own. “Let’s see what yours can do.”

Robin slipped his finger inside my corset and flicked my pert nipple. He pushed the fabric down and sucked me so hard I lowered my wand. “Hey Presto,” I screamed.

Robin’s free hand reached down to remove my panties. He dropped to his knees and his tongue sought my clitoris. He was a rough sucker, but I liked it, especially when his fingers pushed deep inside me. I could feel my wetness smother his hand.

“Fuck me now, Robin.”

At my command he turned me round and I held onto the back of a chair. His fat cock pushed deep inside me and his rough hands squeezed my pointy tits. He fit me so perfectly it was just like magic!

“Do you want me to come inside you, Mistress?” he asked.  He pounded faster now, and I could tell he was ready to spill his seed.

“Make me come first,” I said, and with a flick of my wand he slowed down and started to stroke me, his cock still inside.

“Hocus Pocus!” I screamed.  My orgasm was so intense I burned. While I still rode the flames, Robin resumed his violent pounding.

“Oh my sweet Witch,” he called out as his semen pumped into me. It felt so good I dropped my wand.

I turned.  He was a beautiful man thing. Sweat covered his taut skin and I licked some from his nipple.

Ever so politely, he re-tied my corset, and held my panties so I could step into them. He dressed himself, then handed me my wand.

“Thank you Mistress,” he said, as he walked to the door. “Oh, there’s something I should’ve told you outside.”

“What’s that?”

“Your wand is broken.” He winked, and walked away.