Castration Erotica Novels & Stories

Instantly, shamefully wet. He doesn’t speak. He just looks down at me, a faint, cruel smile touching his lips. Then his hands go to his belt. The click of the buckle is deafening. He unzips his trousers, pushes them and his boxers down in one rough motion. His cock springs free, already thick and half-hard, curving up towards his abdomen. It’s beautiful in a brutal way, veined and heavy. The reality of what’s happening crashes into me. This is wrong. This is so professionally, ethically wrong. And my body is screaming for it. “You said anything,” he reminds me, his hand wrapping around his shaft, giving it a slow, deliberate stroke. It hardens fully under his touch, becoming a formidable, fl

Creighton dropped the bags by the door and picked up the package again. “Shall we?” he asked with an excited grin. Sandra had no choice but to smile in return, as she nodded. They sat down on the sofa and she watched as he ripped the paper off like a child at Christmas. She felt the sting of her blush when he pulled the top of the gift box open. Inside was a set of handcuffs encased in black fur, a riding crop almost identical to the one they already had, a black silk bustier and thong panty set, and a book entitled Kama Sutra A Sexual Experience For Lovers by Dr. Miriam Bachmeier. Creighton laughed as he flipped through the pages.

she corrects me and points to a picture in the book, “It’s here between the anus and the scrotum. Many nerve bundles come together here, some compare it with the clitoris.” “How do I do it?” “It’s called prostate milking, when stimulated enough he will orgasm without his cock being touched. Many men enjoy the feeling but don’t feel as satisfied as when their cock is involved.” Celeste explains how to go about milking Zared, “If revenge is your aim and humiliation maybe the best option is to put him in a male chastity belt and get him to wear a corset.”

He fucked her with savage, short strokes, one hand stroking Priya’s clit while the other choked his sister lightly, reminding her of the blood they shared. The chamber grew sweltering. Sweat poured off their bound bodies. The scent of sex — sweet pussy, salty sweat, masculine musk, holy Ganges water, blood, incense, and bhang — became overwhelming. Vikram used a leather strap blessed in mockery of Shiva’s trident, cracking it across their asses and bound tits, leaving bright red welts that made them scream and cum even harder, their pussies clenching and squirting with every strike. “Recite the Kama Sutra while I fuck you,” he snarled, pounding Lakshmi mercilessly. “But twist every verse int

Wanda’s customer service replied to those questions very patiently, and their definition of masturbation, sex, pornography and ejaculation were stated as such: Masturbation: An act of physical gratification using your hands. Sex: Any penetrative activity with a living object that does not belong to your body. Pornography: Any videos of sexual activities. Photos are not included. Ejaculations: Any release of semen. Dry orgasms do not count. When Mary read the definitions specified by the company, an idea came to her. Initially, she only intended to use the vibrators as kegel weight training. However, if masturbation was defined as an act of physical gratification using hands, using toys would

Grey's tail lashed with anticipation. Etta raised trembling hands to take control of the beast's throbbing, vein-rippled penis. The true proportions of the colossal prick were revealed. The fingers of both her hands failed to fully wrap around the fleshy girth. The bulging cock knob was easily as large as a grapefruit, and it was as if a pair of melons was concealed within his giant, dangling nut sack. A steamy heat seemed to radiate from the stallion's cock and balls, conveying an alarming aura of barely restrained power and stamina, eager to be unleashed. A lustful tremor shuddered through Etta's soupy-wet loins.

The sound of flesh pounding and harsh moans filled the room as Toussaint didn’t hold back with his thrusts. Toussaint pulled out and dragged Jace towards the edge of the bed and raised his legs up in the air then hung them on his shoulders. He positioned himself once more and held his thighs in place by his hand, the second hand rested on Jace’s neck. The familiar thickness of Toussaint’s fat cock filled Jace’s boy pussy once more and he lost all sense of shame. Toussaint didn’t hold back either; going full beast mode as he filled Jace up, slamming in hard and fast with a constant momentum.

The faint pink prolapse that had been teasing at his rim all morning now fluttered visibly with every tiny shift, the swollen rectal flesh kissing the base of Cassian’s cock like a greedy, puffy mouth that refused to stay hidden. Cassian felt the shift in Nagur immediately—the way the heir’s hole suddenly went softer, hotter, more pliant around him, the inner walls rippling in lazy, submissive waves instead of fighting the intrusion. A dark, satisfied grin spread across Cassian’s face. “There you go, pet. Slipping so nicely for us. Perfect little cockwarmer dropping into subspace just like that.” He tightened his grip on Nagur’s bruised hips, fingers digging into the marked flesh hard enough

What he saw stopped him cold. Father Elias stood in the center of the small room, black cassock unbuttoned and hanging open like a dark curtain. Beneath it he wore nothing. His thick, veined cock stood fully hard in his fist, the head flushed dark and glistening with pre-cum. On the small wooden table in front of him, his laptop played gay p**n on low volume — two muscular men, one bent over an altar-like surface while the other fucked him deep and rough, grunting filthy words that echoed softly in the sacristy. Father Elias stroked himself with slow, deliberate pulls, eyes locked on the screen. His other hand gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles were white. A low, hungry gr

I typed carefully again: “EROTICA NOVEL…” Suggestions filled the screen. Some titles were flowery and romantic, full of soft promises and long courtships. Others were blunt. One in particular sat near the top of the list, its cover image dark and suggestive, the title in bold white letters: “50 EROTICA COMPILATIONS, WRITTEN BY WORLDCUP.