CREDIT CRUNCH

By Velvetglove

Copyright and Disclaimer

‘Credit Crunch’ is an original work of fiction and neither events nor characters portrayed are based in reality. Any resemblance with actual persons is entirely coincidental. This is a short story in two parts: ‘Credit’ and ‘Crunch’. It contains bdsm and sex but it is primarily a psychological mind-fuck. Story Codes are: M/f, M/mf, D/s, blackmail. Copyright is asserted by the author and no reposting to other sites or commercial use whatsoever is authorised.

Part One: “Credit”

“Mister Glover will see you know.”

The secretary ushered the couple from the waiting area into his office.

Vincent Glover nodded curtly at his secretary. She was stunningly beautiful and provocatively dressed in a short grey skirt and tight cream blouse. She sashayed her hips as she turned and closed the heavy oak door behind her.

He gestured at the two chairs in front of his desk.

The husband and wife looked nervously at him and at each other. They slowly sat down facing him. They were both in their late twenties. The man was tall, fair-haired, wearing a suit and tie. The woman was chestnut-blonde, with shoulder length hair set Farrah-Fawcett-style, very pretty, wearing a black dress and a cardigan covering her shoulders.

The tick of his antique grandfather clock echoed in the silence. He caught a whiff of the woman’s musky perfume as it wafted across his desk.

“So.” He said, finally flipping open the file on his desk. “You’ve been well and truly fucked, haven’t you ?”

He had already crunched the numbers. Their names were Mike and Melissa Merrill. They had a $1.2 million mortgage. It had been affordable at the initial subsidised fixed rate for the first two years, and so long as Mike held down his fancy job and pulled in a decent annual bonus.

But now the ‘hook’ interest rate had expired and his employer wasn’t paying bonuses. Mike had even been considered lucky to hold on to his job in the latest wave of redundancies.

“So why are you here ?”

They glanced at each other again. Mike coughed and spoke.

“We saw your bank’s advert and made some enquiries. We’re here to apply for a re-mortgage … Sir.”

Vince Glover nodded. There was no beating around the bush. They all knew the score. His private bank was called the Bank of Land and Realty, abbreviated to BLR. But most people who knew of it called it something else; the ‘Bank of Last Resort’ !

“It would be easier to just hand back the keys and give the place up.”

The woman let out a small squeak. “We couldn’t do that … Sir.”

He let his eyes rest on her again. The file had her birth date at 1980. She was 28 but could have passed for 23. Her complexion looked creamy in that way chestnut-blondes have. Her perfect teeth were shiny and her lipstick had obviously been applied with extra precision that morning.

“Why not ?”

Her blue eyes filled with tears. “It’s our home. We have two kids. Please …” she began crying. Her husband leaned across and squeezed her hand.

“It’s her dream, Sir. Loved that house the moment she set eyes on it.”

Vince stared at him. This guy was clearly no wheeler-dealer. No wonder they’d gotten themselves in such a deep pile of doo-doo.

“How much is the house worth, you reckon ?”

“One and a half million plus, Sir.”

Vince snorted. “In this market ? Eight, nine hundred thousand tops. Your equity’s all gone, son.”

“The agent said we’d get …”

“Agents don’t know jackshit. You’d get what a bank says it’s worth.”

“I think …” the man’s voice rose.

“You know so much then fuck off out of here. I’ve got other wannabe customers to see. People living in the real world.”

Melissa Merrill glared at her husband. “Please, Sir. My husband’s very emotional at present. Can we apply for a re-mortgage ?”

“Sorry.” Her husband mumbled.

Vince slowly sat back in his chair, appeased. The woman was not only tidy, she had a nice manner. He pointed to her cardigan.

“Take that off.”

She shut her eyes, blinked and steeled herself. It was obvious she’d been waiting for this moment to arrive. They clearly knew the score. Her husband sat, visibly shrinking in his chair. The dynamic between the two of them was interesting.

“Here’s the deal. I’ll consider giving you a re-mortgage. But the terms will be … tough.”

He watched her lay down the cardigan in her lap. He winked and she understood. She stood up and placed the cardigan over the back of her chair.

“No, you,” he pointed, “help her remove the dress.”

Mike took a deep breath and rose out of his chair.

Vince watched him unzip and slowly peel the black dress down over his wife’s shoulders. She was wearing a lacy black, ½-cup bra. Her cleavage was full, probably D. Her stomach came into view. It was toned, flat except for the slight telltale mound that betrayed the fact she’d had two children. She stepped out of her dress and her husband held it in his hand. She was wearing black stockings, heels and a thong.

“Sit down.” He said to her. “You stay standing.” He ordered Mike, ignoring him and ogling Melissa’s assets as she retook her seat in front of him.

“There’s an application fee. To prove to me you’re both serious.”

She blushed. “Yes ?”

“A blowjob. And it had better be good.”

He looked at her and then up meaningfully at her grim-faced husband.

“And six of the best for you on your naked backside.”

“What ?!” Mike’s hand flew up and gouged his fringe of fair hair in shock.

“It’s a joint application.” Vince replied, starting to enjoy himself. “You both have to show similar commitment.”

“Then ?” she asked.

“Then I mull it over a day or two. I approve about one in three applications.”

They both dry-swallowed. “And if we don’t … pass ?”

Vince flipped the file closed. “No mortgage.”

She leaned forward. “And if you decide to approve us ?”

“We try and hammer out a deal. That can take a while.”

“We don’t have time.” Mike interrupted. “They’ll foreclose and throw us out within seven days.”

Vince shrugged. “I can maybe lend you a couple of weeks interest to buy some time. Secured on those titties there.” He winked. “Lose the bra.”

She sat back and unclipped her front-loader, then pushed the cups away from her pendulous breasts. Her neck was pinpricked by an embarrassed, scarlet flush.

“How do we know you’ll … you know … do us a deal ?”

“You don’t.” he said to Mike, steepling his fingers smugly. “I might just hose your wife’s throat, thrash your butt and forget about you. Frankly it depends on your good lady’s blowing technique.”

“We don’t have a choice, darling.” She muttered to her husband.

Vince gave an exaggerated glance at his watch. “Time is money, folks.”

There was a long silence. “Okay.” They both said at once.

“Go sit outside in the waiting area.”

He watched Mike walk slowly over to the door. Vince caught his forlorn glance back into the room as he closed the door behind him.

“You like giving head ?”

She made a face. “Not really.”

“You know how ?”

“I’ve done it. Er … sucking and licking. Nothing much. Just, you know, foreplay.”

Vince curled his finger at her. “Come here.”

She walked round the side of the desk to face him. He sat back in his chair and opened his thighs. “Kneel. Then take my pants down.”

On cue, Vince’s phone rang. He loved talking on the phone at moments like this. His secretary had waited thirty seconds. Her singsong voice came on the line.

“You need anything, Sir ?”

“Nope. Just read me today’s profit figures.”

He listened as he watched Melissa’s elegant fingers clumsily unbuckling his belt, top button, his fly. He lifted his hips so she could ease his trousers down his legs to his ankles.

“Take my shoes off.” He whispered.

She unfastened his laces and eased his leather shoes off in turn, then pulled his pants off over his socks. He threw his legs open wide again.

He made occasional noises of approval at the figures. It had been a good day. His bank had actually cleared more in profit today than this couple’s entire mortgage. Not bad. Vince was only a few years older than the Merrills but through his drive, ambition and ruthlessness he’d built up his own private bank specialising in distressed debt, bankruptcies, junk bonds, that kind of stuff. Mucky work but somebody’s gotta do it !

“Kiss my balls first.”

He watched her pink tongue snake out and slowly dab at his scrotum. Nowadays, he could have his choice of a hundred women to blow him; his mistress, other girlfriends, plenty of hookers and desperate debtors like this dame. But his favourite was always a new one. The moment of conquest.

“Now my asshole.”

She baulked momentarily then lowered her face to his bottom.

“Get Manny on the line.” He said to his secretary. “Ask him to pop up here in fifteen minutes.”

He placed the phone down and looked at her. “Better hurry lady. My attorney’s coming by in quarter of an hour. He’d like a BJ too ! Mmm.”

He savoured her hot wetness burrowing deeper into his anus. His erection was hard now; engorged and raring to go.

“Okay, lady. Show me your tricks.”

She moved her mouth up to his hairy groin and curled her fingers round his shaft.

“No, no !” he laughed. “No hands. That’s cheating. Oral means oral.”

She looked up at him. Her nostrils flared indignantly. But she put her lips round his helmet.

“You must love your family.” He mused. “Your home and kids. You on the PTA ?”

She paused her head mid-bob, then nodded to signify she was.

“I wonder what all the teachers and soccer moms would say if they could see you now ?”

He sat silent a while, savouring her unsophisticated but rhythmic slurping. Her lips kept making obscene glugging noises round his shaft.

“You have two kids, right ? Four and two. Nice ages. I’ll bet they love their bedrooms, the den, the yard.”

Her blue eyes glanced at him but she stayed concentrated on her job. He winked and shut his eyes, feeling the pressure building. He’d already toyed with his dick a few times that afternoon, almost to the point of orgasm, then stopping. Made him trigger-happy and that helped with new dames. Otherwise it all sometimes took too long.

But, better still, it stimulated his balls into full production mode. Gave them a big mouthful to cope with. Truly a bitter pill to swallow.

“Not bad.” He encouraged. “You realise you swallow it all, right ?”

She didn’t speak, just turned her pretty blue eyes up fully to look at him. He reached down and put his fingers to her earlobes, guiding her head up and down in rhythm. Her neck muscles had to be hurting.

“Mmm …” he chuckled, “… let’s sign that application form.”

Her eyes widened as hot spurt after thick spurt cascaded over her tongue and splashed the roof of her mouth. He pushed her head back slightly so as not to make her gag and also so that his chewy jizz didn’t bypass her taste buds.

After all, it might be the only time she got to savour his flavour.

Her husband accepted it like a lamb.

Vince’s specially built, huge walnut desk contained built in shackles that flipped out from secret compartments. In just a few moments, Mr. Merrill’s taut, bare buttocks were stretched tight over the near edge of the desk, his ankles chained to the legs, and his wrists chained to the opposite end.

Vince swung the brutal bamboo in an arc, making the air whoosh. Like golf, he always took a couple of practise swings.

He winked at the wife who was now dressed again, sitting, watching.

He lashed the first stroke down with a satisfying splat. One !

The husband howled, rattled the shackles, hissed short, fast breaths.

Two !

Three !

The wife’s watery eyes pleaded with Vince to show some mercy.

Four !

He whapped the white, clenching butts harder than ever.

Five !

Six !

He laid down the cane and wiped his brow.

“Come here.” He said.

She rose and walked over to him. He pushed her down so she was sitting directly on top of her husband’s scalding, striped buttocks.

“Kiss me.”

She hesitated, leaned forward, parting her smudged lips.

Vince used his tongue to possess her.

“Think hard.” He said. “It really would be so much easier to give up your home.”

*** *** ***

A week later, it had cost him a couple of thousand bucks, but they were hooked. Their existing bank had accepted the payment and given them an extra two weeks grace to re-mortgage, instead of foreclosing.

Vince was fucking Melissa on his desk.

She was face up, her bra askew, skirt riding up, heels locked round his waist. Her enthusiasm was almost convincing.

He let rip, emptying his balls inside her married, maternal vagina. She was pretty tight for a mom but he’d mainly use her mouth in future. And her asshole.

But best get the paperwork signed before the buttfucking began !

It was 10.15 in the morning. He pushed himself up off her body.

“Lie there.” He said. “Don’t move. I like watching my cum ooze out.”

She didn’t budge. He even thought he detected a little frustration, as if she’d maybe been building towards a climax herself.

This was a private meeting. Just the two of them. To see whether they could ‘advance negotiations’. Her husband had dropped her off then gone to his own office.

“I don’t see any short term fixes.” He said, idly fingering her labia open. “It will be fifteen, twenty years. That’s how long it’ll take.”

She turned her head slowly to look at him. “Fifteen years ?”

He clicked his teeth. “You’d still both be only mid-forties. You’d have your home. Your kids would have grown up in it.”

“Please …” she looked away. “I’ll do anything. Within reason.”

“You bet you will. I could buy the best hookers in town for what I’d effectively be paying you.”

He idly watched his white slug emerging from her well-fucked rose petals.

“Tell me what’s required.” She whispered.

“I have around a dozen women like you. My debt sluts. You are at my beck and call seven days a week. You fuck me, you fuck my friends. You suck, fuck and take it up the ass too. You do other stuff too. Not all the time, of course. But whenever you’re told.”

Her face froze, absorbing his crude words one at a time. Then slowly, she ran her tongue over her dry lips, her voice breaking.

“And … my husband ? What would he have to do ?”

“Not so much. Babysit your kids, keep in the background, jack himself off if he’s horny. You’d be mine, not his. You would never have sex of any kind with him without my prior permission. Hidden cameras will be installed in your … I mean … my house to monitor you all.”

She stared at him, the merest flicker of a relieved smile passing across her lips.

“And that’s all ? If we agree to that, then you’ll approve the loan ?”

He frowned. Most of them went sobbing from his office at this point. It usually took 48 hours or so before they came round to his way of thinking. Maybe he should strike a harder bargain ?”

“Well, there’ll be some small print.” He added. “A few surprises. But you’ve heard the most of it.”

His semen was trickling into her anal cleft. Maybe he should ass-fuck her today ? This one was going to be a whole lot of fun.

“I agree to your proposal, Sir.”

“And what about your husband ?”

Her mouth tightened determinedly. “Oh, he’ll agree too, Sir. I promise.”

*** *** ***

Mike knelt, with his head just inches from his wife’s pussy. He could smell the heady, fishy aroma of stale sex.

“Don’t touch.” Melissa warned. “I gave my word. Though I will miss your tongue … cuck.”

He looked longingly at the heart-shaped tuft of downy pubes on her mound, finding it all hard to absorb.

Between fifteen and twenty years ! He was going to spend up to two decades as the wimp husband of a hot wife.

It had all been Melissa’s brainchild. Throughout their marriage he’d suggested swinging and then, when she wouldn’t go for that, he’d mentioned his true fantasy, cuckolding.

He’d shown her porno movies, websites, magazine letters and, gradually, she’d expressed mild interest in the idea. They’d started playing at fantasies and a bit of domination, but never actually plucked up the courage to turn cuckolding into reality.

And then Melissa had heard rumours about the Bank of Land and Realty, or the bank of last resort, as it was known ! She’d spied on Vince Glover, the CEO, and she’d hatched this plan to get them out of their financial crisis in the only way possible.

“He’s not bad looking, actually.” She said, closing her bathrobe. “I nearly reached a climax today. I could get to like having sex with him. Who knows ? I might even like his friends too, if they’re like him.”

Mike shivered, watching her walking to the shower.

“Do you think he suspected anything ? You know, that this was actually what you … we … planned ?”

She hung her robe and turned her head.

“I don’t think so. And so what if he did ? It’s a contract. I shall keep my end of the bargain and I’m sure he’ll keep his.”

She frowned. “What are these footprints ?”

Mike shrugged. “A surveyor came from the bank to measure up and value the place. He looked everywhere, checked everything. I left him to it. He seemed satisfied when he left.”

She turned on the water jets and waited for the water to heat up.

“We’ve got it darling. We’ve got our re-mortgage, our home. And you get to live out your weird fantasy too. Everybody wins. Now, go and feed the kids.”

*** *** ***

In his office across town, Vince sipped his bourbon, listening to the sound of the shower over his PC’s speakers. He scrunched a square of yellow notepaper and played her words back in his mind.

“And so what if he did ? It’s a contract. What we planned. We’ve got it darling. We’ve got our re-mortgage, our home. And you get to live out your weird fantasy too. Everybody wins.”

Not so fast, little lady.

His surveyor had installed a few hidden microphones, before the proper CCTV system went in. It was surprising what you could discover when people didn’t know that anybody was listening.

So, the guy actually enjoyed Vince banging his missus, huh ? And the trollop actually fancied being a hot wife ? Well, nothing wrong with either of those things in normal circumstances.

But they were getting a new and flexible mortgage at a special rate. They were meant to be suffering for it, not getting their kicks. They’d pulled a fast one on Vincent Glover.

Everybody wins ?

Bullshit.

End of Part One

Part Two: “Crunch”

The mortgage document was 88 pages, including 63 pages of notes in fine print. The side letter was just 1 page.

They signed them both and attorneys witnessed them.

Vince’s attorney was a plump, Jewish widower in his fifties.

“Blow him to say thanks.”

Melissa stared at him in shock. She was wearing a linen summer dress and a smile for the signing of the deal.

Manny grinned, taking a seat on the sofa. His sweat-slick white shirt strained against his belly.

“But …” she stood there, eyes flicking over at Manny and back.

“Manny is your new landlord.”

“What ?”

Both she and her husband Mike gawped at Vince in confusion.

“I gave your mortgage to Manny. He can turn you out into the street any time he likes.”

“No !”

“Yes. I’m assigning our whole deal over to him. Manny’s been on his own a while now. I’m sure he’ll let you keep that roof over your head, so long as you give him head, whenever he wants. Won’t you Man’ ?”

The attorney patted the empty place on the sofa next to him.

“Sure I will.”

Vince folded his arms to signify that the discussion was over.

He watched her bite her trembling lip, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Mike spoke. “But this wasn’t … the deal.”

Vince turned his head. He pointed at the documentation on the desk.

“That … is the deal.” He said coldly. “I can do what I like. I own you. I own her. And I own your home.”

She had made up her mind. She slowly walked towards grinning Manny.

“Join them.” He said to Mike. “And watch closely as she sucks him. Because in a day or two, you’re going to be blowing a gay friend of mine.”

Vince savoured the expression of horror on Mike’s face.

*** *** ***

“You having any more ?”

Mike looked up from the burgers grilling on the Weber. He followed the guy’s gaze over to where the young kids were all playing.

“Er … no. We’re stopping at two.”

The guy leered knowingly. “Missus won’t put out for you any more, huh ?”

Mike smiled weakly in reply.

They were having a few friends and their children over for the first holiday cookout of 2009. It had been a long, hard winter and now Spring was in the air. People were sat around outside enjoying the sunshine.

“Nice place.” The guy said, easing the top off a bottle of chilled Budweiser. He was a new neighbour, having only moved to the area recently. “You coping with the mortgage okay ?”

Mike picked up a raw carrot stick and crunched down on it with his teeth. “Yeah, kind of.”

“Where is your lovely lady by the way ? Melissa right ? I haven’t seen her yet today.”

“She’s busy in the house. She’ll be down soon.”

The guy slurped on his beer and belched. “Hey look, she’s up there at the window. She’s waving.”

Melissa stared out of the window, checking her kids and guests were okay, praying that Manny would leave soon. He’d known that she and Mike had asked people over. The bastard had turned up unannounced five minutes after the barbecue started and quietly summoned her upstairs.

“Who’s the dork with your husband ?”

Manny was peering over her shoulder. She was naked below her waist and he was pushing his damp cock against the cleft of her buttocks. He’d fucked her already on her double bed but he often liked to try and get it up a second time.

“He’s just moved in down the street.”

“Name ?”

“Bill something. He’s single. Or divorced I should say. I heard he moved away from the city to get over the break up of his marriage.”

Manny chuckled. “Not much to look at is he ? Your husband looks like he wants to punch him. Some people are just so damned irritating !”

Melissa didn’t reply. She could feel his disgusting semen drooling down the inside of her leg.

“Hey !” Manny said. “He’s seen you. Wave ! Wave for him to come up here.”

The sounds of the party filtered up into the bedroom through the open window. Everybody was helping Mike, serving the kids, dressing the salad, flipping the meat.

“Melissa feeling any better ?” a woman could be heard asking outside.

“A little. I hope she’ll come down later. But she just wants y’all to enjoy yourselves anyway.” Mike’s voice replied. “More beer ?”

“Shall we put aside some food ? How about we save her a sausage ?”

Manny chuckled at that one. He winked at Bill, who was lain across the middle of the bed, with Melissa hunched between his pale, chubby thighs. Her chestnut tresses were bobbing up and down on his sausage.

“Take your time, Bill.” Manny said. “There’s no rush.”

Finally, fifteen minutes later, Bill blew his pent up wad in her mouth, chuffed to see that his kinky new neighbour gulped it all down.

Manny dipped into his back pocket and fished out a wedge of paper. He peeled off ten sheets and gave them to Bill.

“What are these ?”

“Receipts.”

Bill held one up. It had ‘To the value of one Blowjob” typed on it.

“You keep them. Whenever you’re horny and fancy a bit of oral relief, just come on down here and present one to Melissa. Any time, but best aim for just after her kids have gone to bed. Afterwards, if you’re satisfied, you simply sign the receipt and let her keep it. She’ll want to do that, believe me.”

“What about Mike ?”

“You want a blowjob from him too ? That can be arranged.”

Bill shook his head. “No thanks. But won’t he … you know … mind ?”

Manny shrugged. “Why don’t you make him watch you next time, and find out. Now, I’m starving. Shall we go down and rejoin the party ?”

Eighteen Long Years Later

“Mister Glover will see you know.”

His sexy secretary ushered the middle-aged couple from the waiting area into his office.

Vince nodded curtly at his secretary. This one was 22 years old and provocatively dressed in a short skirt and hugging top. She gave no hint of recognition as the couple walked past her into his office.

As was his custom, he gestured at the two chairs in front of his desk.

The husband and wife looked nervously at him and at each other. They slowly sat down facing him. They were both now in their mid-to-late forties. The man was tall but slightly stooped, with receding hair, wearing a crummy suit and tie.

The woman was bleached blonde, her makeup unable to hide the lines on her face, the dark rings under her eyes. Her large breasts sagged and it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra under the tight top. She was dressed in a skimpy outfit that was much more suited to a girl his secretary’s age.

Vince smiled at them, tapping the 88 page mortgage agreement on his desk. And the side letter. “Remember these ?”

They nodded their heads in silent unison.

It was November 10th, 2026. How long ago that fateful day now seemed, when they’d all signed the document. Poor old Manny was dead now. He’d suffered a heart-attack one morning four years ago. But what a way to go ! It had all been hushed up. The rumour was Manny died on his back with a smile on his face in his married mistress’s own bed.

“So,” Vince continued, “time flies, huh ?”

“Please …” the man replied, “don’t torment us.”

The housing market had long since recovered. Prices were three times what they’d been back in the depths of 08 and 09. Their nice little place would fetch three million nowadays, maybe even three five if they were lucky.

Of course, under the strict terms of their deal, all of the profit since 2008 belonged to Vince.

It was all there at the end of clause 313 on page 69 !

He chuckled at Mike. “Shut up, faggot. Not as much fun as you thought being a cuck, was it ?”

Vince turned to Melissa. “You finally fulfilled your obligation.”

It had taken her just over eighteen years; one thousand blowjobs, one thousand ass-fucks and one thousand cunt-fucks, plus a side order of a hundred various kinky extras. About half of them had been with dear old Manny, and about half with an array of other guys; some old, some young, some white, some black. Actually, it had taken her way more than a thousand of each, because some bastards never even signed the ‘receipts’ she gave them afterwards that were necessary to register as her ‘mortgage interest’.

Vince had never touched her.

Not once, after that day in his office when he heard her talking over the microphone.

Everybody wins ?

Not when Vince Glover is playing at the table.

“Please.” Her voice croaked. “Look at me, Sir.” She opened her palms. “Give us our lives back now. I beg you.”

There is a moment when even the hardest heart kinda melts a little.

Vince eased back his chair and stood up. He pushed the document towards her and crunched the summary of her ‘receipt’ totals into a paper ball.

“Take a look. I’ve signed the deed of release. It’s over. It’s all yours.”

They both looked up at him. Tears filled her exhausted blue eyes.

He stared into the eye-sensor of the latest, new-fangled intercom. Technology had come on leaps and bounds but basic human emotion hadn’t changed.

His young secretary’s voice filled the office. “Yes, Sir.”

“Come in.”

Moments later Samantha - Mike and Melissa’s 22 years old daughter - sashayed into the room. It had taken his current secretary weeks to learn that walk. She’d been on his payroll for a year.

“Your parents are just leaving.” Vince announced pleasantly, nonchalantly lobbing the paper ball at a basket hoop mounted on his office wall. “They’ve repaid their mortgage in full.”

Samantha Merrill’s blue eyes sparkled. “Wow. That’s great mom, dad.”

“And, of course, if you want to quit work here now and move on to a new job somewhere else, you’re very welcome to do so.”

Mike and Melissa looked up at their daughter, waiting expectantly.

“Leave ?” Samantha frowned. “No Sir. Why on earth would I want to do that ?”

The End

By the same Author:

Completed Novels:

“After the Pestilence” – a long (80,000 words) novel set in the near future, involving numerous characters and containing, as one reviewer said, ‘something for everyone’ (most of it is non-consensual and the humiliation is extreme, although the actual violence is mainly moderate).

“Five Words” – a long (70,000 words) Fem-domme novel, starting with just five words that changed his life. The handful of words that turned him from a husband, father and businessman to something else entirely’ (a bdsm romance).

“Best Enjoyed Cold” – A medium length (35,000 words) ‘Rape and Revenge’ thriller (non-consensual and emotionally cruel).

“Priceless” – A medium length (32,000 words) ‘Blackmail Saga’, originally conceived as a short-story, that grew into a novella punctuated by advertising industry taglines (consensual becomes non-consensual).

New Short Stories:

“Loaning Lucy” – a single part Fem-domme, lesbian short story (F/f), September 2008, that may continue depending on reviews and reader feedback

“Used Goods” – a single part Male-dom short story (M/f), September 2008

Completed Short Stories:

“A Special Relationship” and “A Special Weekend” – A fem-sub story and its sequel set in present day England of an Anglo-American relationship, involving a submissive British woman whose boundaries are pushed to their very limit by her younger dominant boyfriend during two turbulent weekends (a consensual story involving cuckqueening, female chastity and humiliation). This was originally intended as a ‘trilogy’ but due to reviews of A Special Weekend, the third instalment was canned.

“Son-of-a-Gun” – A male-dom short story set in both the mid-nineteenth century and the present day recounting the fate of two young ladies at the mercy of a desperate ship’s crew stranded on a remote island (part non-consensual and part consensual involving moderate bdsm and humiliation).

“The Ballad of Lara and Gemma” – a Fem-domme, lesbian spin-off tale from ‘After the Pestilence’, in two parts, describing the infatuation of a Domme and her unwilling female slave (all non-consensual scenes and extreme humiliation, including scat).

Unfinished Business:

“Hard Labor” – intended as a multi-part novel set in the near future but I’m afraid writer’s block has prevented continuation of the story for the moment (non-consensual)

“Short n Sweet” –  a Male-dom story first posted at the same time as “Five Words”, with an invitation for readers to choose which novel was continued. Five Words won ! (consensual, at least for now ?)

“Hors d’oeuvres” and “Amuse-Bouches” (both written in English by the way !) – two collections of three ‘first chapters’ that were never continued.

Poetry:

“Supper’s Ready” – a collection of five short, light-hearted poems with a bdsm theme.

Non-Fiction:

“The Root of All Happiness” – an interview conducted for an abandoned book. I have never posted it to the BDSM Library Fiction Site. It is a transcript of a genuine dialogue with a Female-led couple and anybody interested can find it at Altairboy’s website in a posting dated August 9th 2007.