I've just completed my first erotic novella, and I'd love to get some feedback.

It's available for free on Amazon for a limited. Reviews there are greatly appreciated.

http://www.amazon.com/Fucking-Time-Machine-Titanic-ebook/dp/B01F1AF242

I'll also post the first chapter in a comment below. I'd love any constructive criticism people can give. I'll return the favor on other boards. There are really some talent writers here.

Thanks!

Book description:

College roommates, Chuck and Sam are best friends and kind of an odd couple. Chuck is a physics major and a big nerd. Sam is the opposite, a lacrosse-playing ladies' man with sexy muscles.

After drinking magic mushroom tea at a hippie sex party, Chuck has a dream that he is fucking a beautiful blue skinned alien with hypnotic eyes and tits to die for. When he wakes up he has new insight into the physics behind quantum mechanics and time travel.
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(mind control, gender change, solo, m/f)

The first time it happened, I didn't know what I was doing.

I hadn't been able to sleep. This wasn't especially abnormal, but usually I'd have to skip a night's rest and then the next day I'd be able to get a few hours in. Enough to feel human.

This was study hall, which amounted to a blow off class for most of us. I was going on 72 hours without any shuteye and while the girls in front of me were playing a card game and the football guys were talking about freshman girls in the corner behind me, I was resting my head on my arms and trying to count some sheep.

I had been becoming more and more serious in art class over the last few years and now that I was a senior, art had become my calling. The teacher had let me move from pencils to colored pencils to paint by the time I was a sophomore and I was a regular in highschool art exhibitions now. This got me out of P.E. and needing fine arts credits and with most of my serious classes done now, I could use art class as an excuse to get half days when I wanted them.

The lack of sleep was beginning to affect my work, though, so I slowed my breathing and ignored the noise everyone was making in an attempt to get some of that back. My social life was basically nil due to what my doctor said might be a rare form of autism. I find it hard to meet people, and my sex drive suffers from the antidepressants. Painting really is all I have, most days.

Sleep came over me like it usually did, a fickle thing that came when I was at the breaking point. Sometimes, due to my restlessness, I have what they call lucid dreams. Sitting in studyhall, I was aware that I was asleep, but still cognizant enough to know that I was sleeping. Most of my rest is that way.

This time, everything was even more vivid than usual. I could actually see the girls there having a conversation. I moved over to them, looking over my shoulder to see myself sleeping still. A haze hung over the classroom, like they were playing cards in a burning building. Somewhere, in a dense bank of black clouds in the corner, I could hear the football players laughing about something.
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Hi folks, I've read elit from the chans and elsewhere for awhile, and decided to try writing one myself. This is a repost of what I just wrote on 99chan earlier, just wanted to give it some more exposure, also feel I have a better chance at feedback here, since 7chan's elit seems more active.

Tags with be put up for each chapter, but the overall theme is Futa/Fempreg.

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Tags: (Dick growth, Futa, Solo, Forced, Fempreg)

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Fuuko wasn’t certain why she suddenly felt a chill go up her spine as she stepped away from the old woman who had just been fired from the coffee shop by her boss yesterday, but something definitely was… off. The woman had been fired by Fuuko’s boss for being late for the 4th day in a row, and even after having only worked there for 2 weeks so far, it was abundantly clear that she was never going to work out. Her name was Felicia, and she had applied for the job because her social security wasn't paying her enough, so she needed a source of income to supplement it. She had a weird habit of reading people’s palms at random times of day during slow periods and giving fortunes, and while Fuuko thought she was a really nice woman (and so did many customers) she weirded out Fuuko’s boss too much, and couldn't do her job properly. It all started the day after the woman had been fired, and had come back to say goodbye.

“Fuuko, are you there?” came Felicia’s voice while Fuuko was checking stock. She came out and saw the old woman, and her face lit up. Felicia was fairly frumpy individual, and her age clearly showed in her mid-seventies, but even with her appearance and weird habits she gave off a warm feeling of motherly affection mixed with a little feistiness and spryness stemming from her life experiences. For someone like Fuuko, who whose upbringing in Japan had always been raised to respect her elders, she held her in high regard and they had formed a fast friendship. It’s a shame she lacked proficiency to do her work, although the fact that Fuuko’s boss was going through a mid-life crisis, and she was terrified of looking at anything that remotely reminded her of growing old didn't help matters.

“Hi! I’m sorry about what happened the other day. I hope everything will be alright.”
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I told myself that I was an assassin.

I had spent all this time getting here, and now all I had to do was push the capsule into his mouth and force him to swallow once Albert left the minister to go downstairs. From there, I could make the escape from the first floor window.

I told myself that I was an assassin.

The vinyl padding on the chair clung to my exposed thighs, as I had already been stripped down to my underwear, a set of matching, mostly see-through red bra and panties with a small amount of lace to accompany them.

I told myself that I was an assassin.

The target’s form was huge and intimidating. As a five foot tall petite blonde woman with a slightly muscular outline, it was clear that he had me beat in strength. There was nothing I would be able to do if it came to a battle of brute force. That was unlikely to happen today, though. The target stood up until I could see him stand at his full height of 6’1” as he began to undue the buckle of his belt. He wasn’t an ugly man, with his primary negative trait being that his hair line was slowly receding due to age. The minister had made a point to keep his body in good shape, and it was paying off for his attractiveness. A square jaw complimented his toned figure and freshly cleaned suit. He undid the button of his pants, slid his finger underneath the elastic of his underwear, and pulled it down, revealing his sizeable member, which was not yet completely erect.

I told myself I was an assassin.

“Well, it ain’t gonna suck itself.” The minister said crudely, not once looking at me since I had come into the room. We were the only two people left here. I smiled in his direction, got up and slowly traced my finger along the rim of his desk as I circled around to him. I stood in front of him and he finally looked at my face, taking my chin between his thumb and index finger. He turned my face left and right before smiling. “Well, we’ve got ourselves quiet the stunner this evening.” I had heard many compliments about my physical beauty before. This was no different. He let my chin go, and I slowly got down on my knees, using the desk to brace myself as I went. I grabbed his member by the base and lifted it up, guiding it into my mouth until my lips had pushed past the head of his penis. My tongue danced forward around his tip, licking him with practiced expertise.
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(Let's see... bondage, blood, bestiality, nonconsent, mindbreak (sorta), and a teenage boy gets laid. All that aside, I don't actually think this is that extreme. Maybe I'm just fucked up. In any case, you've been warned.)

The elven princess awoke to the sound of a shout in a language she did not understand.

She tried to get up and failed, smacking her face back into the clay with a groan. Aniyra twisted her body and soon realized she was bound in stocks, her wrists and ankles through the same board, her buttocks raised heavenward and her face and breasts pressed into the cold ground. The air blew across her, and that also told her she was naked. She heard the voices again and quickly spoke a spell, a simple one that required no physical component.

"--aye, Keeper." A male voice, youngish, in the midst of travelling to manhood, though not quite there yet. The spell allowed her to understand the strange tongue of the humans, though not to speak it: a minor magic she had memorized as part of her training as a princess of the wood elves. She tried to figure out what was going on: she remembered travelling with her entourage on their way to the Court of the River King. Her mother wished his aid against the savages and, if all had gone as planned, she would have been offered as the King's golden-haired bride, allying their Courts by marriage. There had been a raid by the wild witches, the heretical elves gone to live like the savages and mate with beasts... and then what?

"Don' you take that tone with me lad." A female voice, more mature, though from a guess, not really that much older, even by human standards. Aniyra wracked her brain and seemed to recall that humans reached 'maturity' at twenty cycles. The woman couldn't be much older than that, the boy perhaps five less. "Now is she 'wake or is she not?"

A dark-haired boy in a rough tunic and pants, not yet fully grown, perhaps not far from her guess of fifteen cycles if her reckoning was correct, came into her view and looked at her face. "Yeh," he said, and got a wadded-up cloth thrown at him for his trouble.

"Cheekier'n a chipmunk," the woman's voice came, and she moved into Aniyra's vision. Red hair, perhaps slightly younger than the 20 cycles the princess had previously estimated, with large breasts and freckles.

"You don't know what you're doing," Aniyra said. The boy stared at her blankly.
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Not sure if this is supposed to go in the request thread or not, so I apologize in advance if so.

I'm looking for someone to write an erotic short story for me in private. It will be about a girl I'm in love with but can never be with for reasons, so I'd like to find a writer who can empathize with that.

If anyone is interested in taking requests leave your email and preferably an example of your work.

Thanks in advance.

Pic unrelated.

So what was your first experience sucking down liquid DNA? Gay or straight experiences, doesn't matter. Be descriptive - age, size of wang, cut or uncut, whether you liked it or hated it. I'm trying to write some stories, but I'm a straight dude so I have none of the personal experience needed for the job. Help me out pls.

Before we start, let's set expectations: This is ≈70% done, the main sex act and the ending need to be done. I should be able to finish it either this weekend, or next weekend. Same deal as Mandragora Girl, If you can't wait for the end, wait.

Other than that, enjoy. (15 y/o male/ adult female)

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“Right this way, Hon,” she said, leading me to my seat.

I was momentarily tempted to feel condescended towards, but it was clear by her thick Southern drawl that she’d have referred to the President as Hon.

I was flying across the country to start living with my father, as my mother had been promoted-slash-transferred to Shanghai. Mom and Dad had been divorced for several years, but it had been an amicable break up, and Richard had immediately offered to take me in for a few years until Sarah could get back. We all had agreed that it would be rather disruptive for me to become an ex-pat, even temporarily. Especially during high school- there was talk of me taking a gap-year in China should Mom’s posting last that long, but that was still three years away.

In the meantime, it was summer, and I was going to have to leave behind all my friends, comfortable hangouts, and practically my whole life up to this point, get on a plane, and fly from Tampa Bay to Silicon Valley.

It doesn’t help that I’m not particularly fond of flying. I’ve been a dozen times or so in my 15 years, my parents both had well paying corporate jobs that allowed us to go on some pretty nice holidays in the past. Don’t misunderstand, I’m well aware that my dislike of flying is irrational, but that’s not really helpful. I’ve read the statistics, have no particular fear of terrorists (turban wearing or otherwise), and know that driving (or in my case, being driven) was much more likely to get me killed- but seeing the ground drop away from the plane as it lifted off is just disconcerting to me.
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Chloe shoved her way through that double metal doors on the way out of the auditorium and into the main lobby. She was on cloud nine. She had moved here at the very tail end of the summer in order to be closer to her daughter’s college, and also because Lake Weenauk was a gorgeous mountain town with several highly rated school districts for her to apply to.

She had dropped an application here at G.L.Winters for the drama teacher opening with the understanding that they had already made a decision to hire an older professor with a Ph.D., but a call had come early last week that Dr. Kitchner had suffered a stroke and, while still alive and well, had decided to take it easy and allow himself to retire.

After two interviews, the principal had made his decision and extended the job to her in the hopes that her youthful energy would make up for the absence of such a seasoned drama teacher as Dr. Kitchner. Besides, the school year had started already and they needed someone else fast.

As Chloe approached the lobby doors, they suddenly swung open hard and her hands drove back into her chest. She staggered and fell to the floor, dropping her portfolios and the notebook full of lesson plans she had come to show the principal so he’d know she knew what she was doing.

Three teenage boys in polo shirts and checkered shorts stood on the welcome mat looking surprised to see her laying there in a pile of papers. The one who had shoved the door open into her face was the first to move, and offered his hand to her.

“I’m so sorry, let me help you up” he said and she took it without really looking at him.

He lifted her with one arm onto her feet so quickly she almost shouted and looked up into his face. She was especially short for an adult, standing a meager 5 even, but this boy was especially tall as well. Chloe had opened her mouth to say that it was alright and to be more careful, but was left at a loss for words. He was easily over six feet tall and had a chiseled jaw and tan skin, long, shaggy blonde hair and he had a roguish expression on his face.

She realized he still had her hand in his and shook it away, “Thanks for the hand”, she said blushing and taking a step back.
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(Miniature f, beast, more if you like)

The world can be a scary place when you're only two feet tall.

Razzly had been lost in the woods for several days, dodging around groups of hunters who were after elk mostly, but probably wouldn't mind hunting her as well if they saw her. Luckily, she was slim and silent and short enough that she stood lower than most men's knees. Her red hair was hidden under a white hood that acted as camouflage in the amount of snow that had piled up.

She crossed the heaps of snow like they were a miniature mountain range, careful to step lightly lest she sink up to her waist or deeper. She was near freezing and getting desperate. Something smelled like civilization nearby and she headed over toward it. Many of the houses and lodges in the woods were either temporarily or permanently abandoned, acting as halfway houses for travelers. Sometimes they left things for the next traveler along, sometimes they cleaned the place out.

She climbed softly over a snow drift and eyed a log cabin that stood against a boulder that jutted out of the snow. It looked as likely a place as any. There were four walls and a roof and there was no light coming from the windows.

Her feet were light and quick as she approached . There was no sound coming from inside and the snow drifts were coming down harder now, so she grabbed a thick twig and jammed it between the door and the frame. She was hoping this was the kind of door that nobody bothered putting a handle on.

Sure enough, with prying force using the twig and her back pushing against it, the door parted just enough for her to squeeze inside before she pulled the twig through and let the door close itself behind her.

Inside the room was a decent size, even for a full sized man if he didn't have much with him. The floor was made of straw on top of wood and somehow that made it feel nicely insulated and warm against her moccasins. This was one of the halfway houses for sure. She could smell how many people had been through here. Maybe three in the last month. Their scent was in the ground and in the walls.
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