Castration Erotica Novels & Stories

His hand cupped my breast through the fabric, squeezing until my nipple throbbed. I was shaking, falling apart under him, when suddenly his mouth pulled away. I gasped. “What the heck...." Before I could finish, he reached across the desk and picked up a black fountain pen, sleek and cold. His eyes stayed on mine as he twirled it. “You want to come, don’t you?” he asked darkly. I nodded, still twitching. “Then take it like the slut you are.” His hand forced me open wider, and then the cool pen slid into my pussy. My mouth fell open in a scream but his palm covered my lips fast, silencing me.

Cristina's POV. "Ahhh, Mmmm." A loud gasp came from the other side of the door, followed by rasped heavy breathing. That was exactly what I needed. Heat bloomed low in my core as I shoved the door open. The scene before me was like something out of my wildest fantasies and my nipples hardened under the tight leather gown I'd thrown on. In a corner was a woman, her legs spread far apart. One man pumped his fingers in and out of her wet cunt, making her quiver beneath him while another guy fucked her throat hard, slamming against her again and again as his groans escaped his mouth.

Andrew then subtly steered the conversation toward sexuality in art, as he trailed a finger between my ass cheeks through my pants. The conversation was interesting but I found it difficult to concentrate because of his constant teasing. At one point he was lamenting the numerous desecrations of masterpieces by the Catholic Church by covering up or breaking off any penises in paintings or statues. As he described seeing the castrated statues in Rome, he was slowly teasing my asshole through my pants with his finger.

The antique desk beneath was a altar of perversion: scattered fountain pens with gleaming nibs, sticks of crimson sealing wax melting over low flames, antique silver nipple clamps shaped like miniature open books, a thick glass dildo cast from the actual mold of a folded manuscript page, textured with raised letters that would drag inside me, and, most obscenely, the old mechanical Underwood typewriter mounted on a custom stand above the desk, carriage positioned to descend until it kissed skin. He wanted me as the living manuscript. The page. The ink. The climax. “Tonight we finish the book,” he said, voice rough with decades of restrained hunger. “Every keystroke is a thrust. Every word yo

The chemical trays bubbled as he agitated the film, the red light making sweat glisten on both of us. He returned to me, feathers replaced by his bare fingers tracing my swollen clit while the glass stayed buried shallowly. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured, voice roughening. “Look at you — naked, sweating, impaled on a glass cock while chemicals develop your shame and hunger. Your clit is swollen and dark red under this light. So fucking pretty when you beg.” He finally removed the glass dildo with a wet sound, setting it aside, and dropped to his knees between my spread legs on the counter. “Time for the next exposure.”

Still, doubt creeps in as I focus on her eyes, “Is this the right thing for you though?” She looks at me for a long minute, before finding my hand and leading it down her body. Her boobs, soft and perky, her flat stomach, and finally deeper. Past her panties and I feel her wetness. My hand is soaked, and she groans when my hand comes into contact with her dripping pussy. The sound is so sexy, so raw. “Just from that kiss, my love. We can talk about whether it's right tomorrow.” I don't need any other confirmation. I grab her.

Dakota responded, "Well, it doesn't really bother me that much. You said that you don't have any real raunchy, hardcore stuff on there, right?" "The only thing other than just solo poses is some of a lovely mature lady or two giving a handjob or a blowjob, but that's it." Dakota smiled. "Well, handjobs and blowjobs I'll allow. However, I still want us to make our own erotica. I want you to photograph me in the nude, and then photograph me giving you a blowjob. How would you like that?" Maxwell jumped up and said, "Don't move a muscle! I'll be right back!"

And too, I've seen the ravages of stress, disease, and contraception reduce this once abundant fertile field into a weed infested wasteland of tainted seed and lost dreams – humanity on the verge of inhumanity saved only by the virtuous and hopeful few. Even now, as I flow through the frail walls fueled by my almost incapacitating hunger, I ponder the chances of humanities survival, much like those before me have done. He lies under a thin cover that takes the chill from the cool autumn air with an unshaven smile compressing the wrinkles of his sleeping brow. Pausing briefly to marvel at his features, I gently withdraw the knitted material to expose the plaid boxers tightly entwined around h

Cass had by now fished out my cock and stroked it slowly as I looked at the pictures. "These are so well made. That looks so realistic. What is that?" I asked, looking at the facial picture. "It's just soap," Cass answered in a low voice. I then turned my eyes to the caption. Reading it almost made me cum right away. My cock pulsed hard to the rhythm of her agonizing slow strokes. The caption: "Something you will never get to do!" in Cass' cute handwriting no less. I wanted to take my cock from Cass and jerk it like no tomorrow. Seeing these photos and not being able to bust to them was pure torture. Cassandra looked so delicious in all of them.

He positioned the wide head of his cock at my entrance and drove home with a single, brutal thrust. I let out a broken, high pitched sob. He was opening me up, claiming parts of me that had stayed dormant for years. He began to hammer into me from behind, his pace erratic and violent.My pussy cream was coated on his cock, the friction of our bodies creating a slick, messy sound that echoed through the kitchen. He leaned over my back, his chest crushing mine against the stone, his sweat dripping onto my spine. "Look at yourself," he whispered, forcing my face toward the reflection in the dark oven glass. "See how much you needed this."