Kirjahaku

"A Zelig Family BDSM Bundle: Volume I of Four Trilogies"Catch a Few Ƶ's In Jon Zelig's "An Age Play Cuckolding Rivalry, Book I: Andre's Game," Dave loses his wife Catherine to her painting teacher, who understands and exploits "Little Cathy," a part of her that her husband had never met before. In Joy Zelig's "Sexual Manners at the Manor, Book I: Lola and Angelique's Punishment," the wealthy Godfrey lovingly dominates his younger wife, Lola; their live-in companion Angelique can be dominant or submissive-as well as sexually flexible in a variety of other ways. Bram Zelig's "Sister No More, An Erotic Vampire Romance, Book I: Tears of Blood," takes the reader for a walk in the woods. Corie had always been a good older sister to Charles; no one in the world other than his wife that he loved more. Then, bitten by something on a hunting trip, she begins to . . . change. Zo Zelig's "Tales from a Long Island Dungeon, A BDSM Romance, Book I: A Diamond in the Rough" introduces us to Maura Diamond, an attorney who specializes in sexual harassment cases . . . and likes to be spanked. Her ex-husband Teddy gave it a shot, but his heart was never really in it. When her firm is engaged to pursue a suit against the wealthy Jason Flood, and Maura hears that he has a dungeon beneath his Long Island mansion, she begins to wonder whether or not she may finally have met a man equal to the task of disciplining her.

The Gynarchy reigns; the battle is long over. The violence and stupidity of men has been, appropriately, suppressed and brought under, necessary, control. But there is still. . . history. While "The Protocols" are a recognized forgery-part of the Masculinist propaganda that sought to block or forestall the inevitable rise, The Restoration, of The Gynarchy-from a scholarly perspective, we believe, the text remains worthy of study. It is "a difficult read," choppy and discontinuous, internally inconsistent in a variety of ways. It yokes together narrative, journal entries, patent applications, study abstracts, and a variety of other scraps and fragments, some of which have a frankly pornographic tinge. "The Timeline" doesn't work, in all kinds of ways. And yet. . . "The Protocols" provide an important and useful "window" on the perspective of the shrinking and ragged band of men who attempted to thwart the inevitable. If it isn't of scholarly interest? We suspect that it may have at least some entertainment value.

"Cuckoldry Negotiated: The Full Trilogy" is made up of three sections. In "Book I: The Marriage Contract," written in the form of one side of a dialog, the prospective husband is told what he can expect, if he is willing to surrender "utterly." In "Book II: Love & Honor & Obedience: A Femdom Wedding Tale," the husband narrates the wedding ceremony, detail by detail: from shaving to locking to queening. This previously appeared as, "To Love, Honor, and Obey: A Femdom Wedding Tale."]In "Book III: A Femdom Honeymoon," the husband narrates their month-long Honeymoon: the two-week drive from the Austrian fortress in which they married to the Moroccan beach town where they spend the second half; the two weeks of delicious and mutually satisfying humiliation that takes place in their Honeymoon Apartment-a bigger "complex" than a "Honeymoon Suite" being required for the "rotating cast of characters" with which they entertain themselves.

A Cuckolding "Threefer," plus The opening installments of three story sets: "Lose Your Wife in Three Easy Lessons, Book I: The Master Cuckolded," "The Man Whisperer Program: Break Your Husband in 30 Days, Book I: Dommy Mommy's Chaste Cuckold," "Beside Myself, Book I: Drugged by His Femdom Wife."Plus an excerpt from the short story: "The Serious Moonlight: A Cuckold Husband Tale."

The Male Re-Training Party's re-election platform could not have been more direct: "For Men: The Last Resort."Not a lot of fanfare-after their landslide win-not much of what had been underway for a year or two now treated as newsworthy. In dribs and drabs, women received Report Without Explanation summonses, packed up their males, reported as ordered. A few weeks later: The Re-Trained Men were returned to their communities; life went on. Bob had always been very well behaved.A Model Male, really Or Sylvia would not have permitted the marriage. And-as the law required-Bob was absolutely surrendered. Those little sparks of temper and tone, however, spikes of disobedience, albeit mild, the occasional sexual churlishness or resistance-Sylvia had to admit-she did find them. . . something of a bother. Still, in the weeks before they made the trip up to the lake, she watched him with just a wisp of wistfulness, knowing that this "version" of Bob now had a clear expiration date: No man ever came back from Lake Cuck-Amok-or any of the retraining resorts-unchanged, after all; that was the point. On their return, he would be not merely "surrendered" but simply, as the updated statutes required, utterly and permanently, "broken." Notwithstanding how completely sodden Sylvia's panties were, just at the thought of the new vistas Bob's retraining would open up for her, she admitted as well-at least to herself-that there would be some loss entailed there too. But then-scant days into their intake and evaluation-things just went radically wrong: Sylvia's actual right to custody of her husband was questioned, essentially put on trial. A different version of Bob?Fine; things change.She was going to lose Bob?No.Just. No. Sylvia's friend Ada has an. . . acquaintance, a lesbian former-lover, from her college days: A retired Marine Corps Judge Advocate General, now a high-powered attorney; people mess with Bobbie at their peril. Will that be enough for Sylvia to retain custody of her husband?And given that-the law is the law-"broken Bob must be," what happens if this team of friends actually do succeed in saving Bob from the staff at Lake Cuck-Amok? The law is the law, he still has to be. . . broken.

When he was eighteen, his parents died, leaving both him and the fortune he inherited in the custody of his sexy-cruel aunt: a forty-something, psychologist, a childless widow, who lived in a three-story Victorian Mansion, her only companion the strict, formal, slightly older Mistress Briley. In the three years that followed he was chastised, humiliated, and milked; shaved below the neck and mostly kept in a "uniform" of a too-tight white t-shirt and a pair of white socks, anything else potentially interfering with the spanking of his bottom or the punishment of his penis.He endures, accepts, ultimately comes to crave this treatment; the lovingly cruel wife, fifteen years his senior to whom he is sold, on his twenty-first birthday, continues to feed these needs. A year after his sale, there are things to celebrate and choices to be made. The celebration includes cuckolding, oral servitude, and pegging-along with loving aftercare. Scant days after their celebration? There are choices to be made. How far will his wife go? How far will he let her?And then, a year later, he has a minor accident, his head smacking the asphalt when he's hit by a car. He does some semi-conscious babbling, under medication: about cuckolding and pegging and creampies; about punishments and calling his wife "Mommy." When they undress him in the ER, they discover the chastity cage he's wearing; one of the nurses freaks out. He's put on a 72-hour psych hold, not permitted to leave; they file a restraining order against his wife, severely limiting how much he can even see her. But the twenty-three-year-old husband and his almost-forty wife? They're not without resources or recourse: they aren't going to have their lives judged by people who don't understand. And they're not going to be kept apart.

Could I trust my femdom, pharmaceutical-rep-wife? I'd thought so.Can someone who utterly dominates you still genuinely love you? I'd thought that, too.Can you be a "Kept Man," while you're being emasculated? It worked that way . . . so far."The Troll and the Witch," my stepfather called us: sour on me; hot for my wife. Why had she married me? I don't question good luck. But then things began to. . . change. It would take me a while before I learned that-I'd thought she was perhaps "casting spells"?-my wife-the-pharmaceutical rep had been dosing me. A while longer to learn what those meds did, and. . . why. Our life together worked.My wife was my Goddess; the polestar of our relationship: her absolute dominance. What would it mean to discover that she too had a submissive side?What would happen then?

One day I was a husband, the next day I had been regressed to an adolescent boy: submissive to my wife Chrisalice, and her lifelong friend-and mentor in domination-Bella. I fell off a cliff?I jumped?I was pushed? I don't know: free fall is free fall, however it starts. But gravity is . . . relentless. If there's an initial feeling that you're flying? A kind of freedom? A kind of exhilaration? You quickly learn that-whatever you started out thinking-you are, most assuredly, NOT in control. And . . . how-or if, or when-you land? THAT'S not under your control either. You accept that or you don't.Gravity doesn't care. My wife sung me songs as I nursed at simply every part of her body: gratitude and correction, threats and promises, poems of passion about the pleasure she would reap and the services I would perform, dutifully lapping the leavings of superior men from any and every crevice or surface of her body with which she chose to gift them, that she might permit me to clean. I spent more and more time deprived, restricted, cut off, teased and denied, painfully swollen and leaky; more than once: I came in my sleep, something that hadn't happened to me since adolescence, before I was enlightened regarding the benefits-the absolute necessity -of masturbation. Where would this end?Well that was close to preordained-wasn't it? Once you "take the leap," the question isn't whether or not "the ground" is in your future; the only question is the speed-the angle, the violence, the damage you will suffer-when that inevitable collision takes place. Includes age play, oral sex, and pegging; cream pie eating; references to cuckolding]

How Can They Fight THE HEAT?Viktor had made them rich: husband and wife, engineer and MBA, IPO millionaires who still enjoyed getting up and going to work every day, on the sprawling high tech campus that housed Viktor's company. They were happy, loved each other, were living a good life until. . . The Shot. A Russian migr , Viktor was odd, but largely in the way that young rich techies tended to be: wandering in and out of meetings, barefoot, in black slacks and a black t-shirt. The company's medical clinic was odd, staffed exclusively by Russians and Ukrainians-that latter group mostly young nurses who were stunningly attractive-the doctors mostly older Russian men. The Shot? Some kind of Eastern European Summer Flu to be vaccinated against. No big deal. A leisurely midday, Friday, stroll to the clinic, then home for lunch, a glass or two of wine, a lazy early summer afternoon. Which is when they begin to feel odd. And their lives start to come apart: the demure wife sexually inflamed; her loving husband rendered. . . ineffective. Their boss-of course -feels it's important for him to. . . help. How long would YOUR love last, under that kind of assault?

Apparently? My wife had been faking it. Five years of marriage, two years of dating before that? The only orgasms she'd had were . . . "of her own creation," either genuine-but the product of toys or her own fingers-or simply performances for my benefit. But She found a solution, a way in which we could remain married, a way in which we could both have our needs met. She made an appointment for us: At The Cuckold Clinic. And our lives were utterly and forever changed. It was terrifying; it was humiliating; and-somehow?-it also brought me pleasure. That was the worst part. And . . . that was the best part.

Cara wasn't a bossy wife; she was just in charge. Albert wasn't a submissive husband; he just did what he was told. Then one January, while both of them were on break from the university where they taught, Cara embarked on a project: She began to "modify" the soccer-playing Serbian student who was their J-Term guest. She was working on a muscle enhancement formula. Fed nothing but specially prepared milkshakes, Dragan's muscles did indeed begin to grow . . . one "muscle" in particular. And, of course, you can't have an experiment without doing hands-on testing As to Albert, chemically dosed in something of the opposite direction: He is first relegated to the role of observer, which he finds frustrating; gradually he becomes more and more of a participant in Cara's experiments with Dragan, which he finds terrifying . . . and disturbingly exciting. How far will she go? How far will he bend?Includes a bonus chapter from Jon Zelig's "Terms & Turns: Sex & Submission, Book I: Becoming a Good Boy."WARNING NSFW, Includes: Cuckolding, FLR, Femdom, golden showers, creampie eating, male chastity, body modification, minor CBT.

When I was working on my Master's degree, I'd fallen into the rhythm of talking to Holly, usually late at night, in the library, where, a college senior, she had a work/study job. Then, one Friday night, I bumped into her in an off-campus bar-and she took me back to her apartment. She hurt me; we both got off on it; so, as soon as we both graduated . . . I married her.What else could I do?The "hurting me" part? I was under no illusions when I committed my life to Holly: It was going to get steadily worse, including "The Three C's": Chastity to Cucking to Cream pies.I'd known what I was in for. Somehow? That made me hesitate not at all Also included, as a bonus, a chapter from Jon Zelig's, "Terms & Terms: Sex & Submission." NSFW WARNING: Includes mild CBT and female masturbation, along with "The Three C's" mentioned above.

I got things . . . wrong. Just no denying that. After five years of marriage, I didn't see who-I didn't see what-my thirty-five-year-old wife Catherine really was: a sex-addicted submissive with a need for a disciplinarian "Daddy."Her painting teacher Andre? He saw. And . . . he took her, relegating me to the status of what he called a HINO, a Husband in Name Only, forcing me to be something between her babysitter and her pimp, caring for her, chastely, and delivering her on demand, like an addict being taken to her dealer. It was going to get worse. Andre had a ritual towards which he was building, for which he was grooming Catherine: the surrender of her "last virginity," something she had never given me or-as far as I knew-anyone else. Once that was done? She would be irrevocably his. I didn't see this all coming in time to prevent it. But I'm PRETTY sure I have the right friends to unwind it, to get back my wife, to get back our life . . . if I can act quickly enough.BONUS: Includes "Sold: A Femdom Triptych, Book II" in its entirety

Again, he felt her angry patience. There is not the slightest possibility of resistance, her thoughts murmured directly into his brain. That's over-so, so, long over. You are-it was almost as though he felt her sigh, a sound of satisfaction tinged with a chilling but irresistible spice of joyful sadism-You are already broken. That is done. There is no going back.And-he felt her wheel around again, back to the task of explaining the obvious to the dimwitted-this. is. natural. This is the state into which you were born.In utter thrall to your Mother: you fear us, you love us, you desire us; you know that we have created you; you know that we can destroy you; you know that, for every second in between, we control you. You know this.You want this.You accept this.You have always known and wanted and accepted this. That is your Nature.That is how you have been wired.How you have been designed.It is the appropriate and inevitable Course of Life.It is your Destiny.We have simply. . . Undammed.

You go in for routine outpatient surgery; little thing on your leg that your dermatologist wants lopped off and biopsied. They'll do it under light sedation; you'll be home in time for dinner; no big deal. And then . . . When you "come to," in post-op? You know immediately that . . . a little more than skin surgery has been performed on you. You can feel it: a sting, a burn, a subtle lump . . . in a part of your body that shouldn't be lumpy. Your wife? She's simply-terrifyingly -radiant. Now? She has a phone app that both lets her read your . . . physical state and behavior, AND allows her to administer . . . corrections-which turns her on to just a frightening degree. Plus-the pain and humiliation notwithstanding-there's also some part of this that . . . turns you on, too.

Internal Invasion & Erotic Evasion: The Full TrilogyBook I, Terminal Orgasm: NASA's military and intelligence arms are at the tip of the spear for a dictatorship that utterly dominates the US. They work with an alien life form, a kind of symbiont, that exists as part of a collectivity. Feeding on neurotransmitters, these "entities" are introduced into the body in a way that--at least initially--causes pleasure . . .Tyler and Nebraska head a commando team that rescues Nebraska's lover, Jenna, from a NASA interrogation lab. But, once they've spirited Jenna to (at least temporary) safety, how do they extract the creature that's been implanted in her? And . . . can they do it in time to save Jenna's life?Book II, The Struggle for Inner Space: In their safe house, in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, Tyler and her team are running out of time. Sooner or later, they know there will be a counter-strike. And--VERY--soon the clock will run down on Jenna. They'd grabbed up Dr. Cavatello when they rescued Jenna; she may be of help. And the symbiont? It may not-or "they" may not-actually want what the rebels (or NASA) *think* they want. Book III, Subsumed (originally published as a standalone story): After you make peace? When "the dust has settled" and a "new reality" is in place?What does coexistence look--and feel--like? Physically? Spiritually? Sexually?Sexual choices? Top-of-List.With "the battle over"? Some people might be inclined to just . . . "give in." We all make our own choices, after all.

"Terms & Turns: Sex & Submission" is a coin. Heads or tails?In Book I: Wife awakens husband in the middle of the night, marches him down to the living room, and turns his life upside down. By the next morning he has become her (mostly) obedient, cock-locked, "little boy." "Mistress Mommy" does terrible (wonderful ) things to him, and he struggles to understand this new, precarious, exciting, and confusing balance of: Power & Passion, Love & Fear. . . Sex & Submission. In Book II: The same couple "flips the script." She surrenders to him; he becomes her Master. He's surprised by how smoothly that 180 degree turn is accomplished. But then, together, they engineer the surrender of her churlish sister-which starts out well but soon goes bad. And when you break something? One way or another: you have to pay for it. What's love got to do with it? Everything. As they grapple with: Pleasure & Pain, Freedom & Responsibility. . . Sex & Submission.

"It will be okay," she said, soothingly. "I'm going to hurt you, but it will be okay. As long as you obey me absolutely, I'm going to free you from all of those bad, guilty, big boy problems. You'll be my happy little boy; I promise. Now ask Mistress Mommy to punish you."I was barely able to fight off the urge to cry, gave a single sob-of gratitude or fear or disgust or confusion, of desire or pain or relief or incredulity-and did as I had been told.

"Snowflake," she said, with what sounded like genuine concern and sincerity, "do you really understand what you're doing here? You're not," she paused, removed her finger, gently stroked a cheek down which a single tear was beginning to roll, intercepted the droplet, pensively licked from palm to fingertip, as though it were an ice cream cone then put her finger back, lest eyes flit or wander. "You're not my first Little Wifey. And," she sighed as if in regret, but with, as well, a rising note of understated sexual menace, "I really don't think you know the places this can. . . take you." The finger under her chin made it difficult to nod and breathing seemed complicated for a whole other set of reasons."I have to do this," she managed to choke out, looking like the little girl who has elbowed her way to the top of the high diving board and, having looked over the precipice, is determined to show how brave and resolute she can be.