White Collared Sissies by Monika Ikon

With a central theme that's as controversial as it is erotic, Monika Ikon's White Collared Sissies is an absolutely fascinating read. She takes the concept of black supremacy, which has already been established and explored through interracial cuckold fantasies, and approaches it not through the sexualization of the white cuckoldress, but through the sissification of the white cuckolded male.

In a world secretly controlled by The Black Alpha Society, there is a clear hierarchy that places Black Masters & Mistresses first, sexually-awakened white female sluts second, de-gendered white sissy-slaves third, and foolishly-naieve white psudeo-males last. It is a world built on the cultural understanding that this hierarchy is entirely natural, with the focus of Monika's stories more on self-discovery and humbled acceptance than on forced feminization and sexual enslavement. Were this not such an exquisite work of erotic fantasy, the concept would be blatantly offensive but, in the context of the novel, it's not just acceptable . . . it's actually quite attractive.

The book begins with an Introduction that explains the philosophy of the Society. It's actually a remarkably well-written argument, acknowledging the protests of political correctness, and continually driving the argument back to the question happiness and contentment. What follows from there are four stories, each focused on a different couple who have come to have their lives changed by the Society in very different ways.

The first story, that of Wendy & Mina (Michael), does a nice job of easing the reader into the subject. It's a very intimate, almost romantic story of a white slut and her sissy-slave serving their black Masters alongside one another. The second story, that of Nichelle & Gina (Greg), is a far more complex exploration of life under the Society, complete with the far-reaching implications for a sissy-slave's family. Here, it's not just a white sissy-slave who falls under the spell of his black Mistress and her son, but his daughter who gleefully follows his lead in becoming a breeder for her black Masters.

The story of Claire & Ami (Andy) seems to takes a step back from that level of complexity to explore the breaking and submission of a sissy-slave. However, it takes us far beyond that initial transfer of power and identity, introducing us to a life of castration, hormone therapy, and enslavement to a black Mistress and her lesbian lover.The final story, that of Liz and Bonnie (Brad), changes the game on us one again, giving us our first look at the forced sissification & bimboization services of the Black Alpha Society Sissy Training Academy. While the least erotic of the four stories, this is definitely the most powerful, using the sissy's own diary entries to illustrate the evolution of an angry pseudo-male into a happy sissy-slave bimbo.

Each story has something unique to offer. The first story contains an absolutely breath-taking scene in which Wendy fits Mina and herself with matching O-rings before they sink to their knees to orally gratify their black Masters. The second has a glorious scene of public humiliation, with Nichelle inviting the family to watch as their father strips down to panties, shaved body, and painted toenails for an over-the-knee spanking.

With the other two, it's not so much a single scene that makes the story, but the overall tone. In Ami's case, it's the sissy's emotional state - terrified, nervous, naturally subservient, and guided by the mantra of 'be pleasing' - that makes the story so enticing. In Bonnie's case, it's the form of the story itself, the evolution of diary entries that start out with a terse and angry recitation of facts, slowly grow in detail and emotional content, and ultimately end in the equivalent of text messages from a hyperactive teenage girl with her first cellphone.

The brief Afterword does a nice job of wrapping everything up, tying the stories back to the central theme, and suggesting just how widespread the reach of the Black Alpha Society is. Easily one of the most erotic collections I have read in a long time, I'm delighted to say Monika successfully manages to maintain the theme and the tone of the collection throughout, never losing sight of the mental, emotional, and physical implications of her story. Like I said, it's a theme of racial superiority that should be blatantly offensive, but it's packaged and presented to wonderfully, you really do come away from the collection happy for the sissies already under the Society's care . . . and at least a bit curious as to how you might come to the Society's attention yourself.

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this is all very very new to me .. but i have one question that really concerns me .. is it normal to have un assisted orgams during sex or even afterwards?

I guess it depends on what you mean by unassisted. :)

If you're talking about achieving orgasm through something other than manual stimulation of your cock/clitty, then absolutely . . . but only if you're one of us lucky gurls who are comfortable enough in our gender and our sexuality to let ourselves go. If you're at all self-conscious or afraid of those feelings, it can be difficult to free your mind of the expectation that only 1 kind of manual stimulation can result in orgasm.

Personally (and it's different for each gurl) I have come to prefer those unassisted orgasms. Having my nipples sucked on and played with gives me the sweetest, softest, most subtle feelings of orgasm . . . I love those ones simply because they feel (to me, at least) so feminine.

It's when I'm being penetrated, though, that I achieve the most mind-blowing, earth-shattering unassisted orgasms. There's this slow build of pleasure inside you that carries you so far beyond the point where manual masturbation would result in orgasm, driving you to heights of pleasure so intense it's scary. I love how those orgasms seem to wash over me in waves (I can have several unassisted orgasms with the right lover), and how you never get that abrupt end to the pleasure that masturbation provides. You come away wholly satisfied and fulfilled, but still pleasantly aroused, and with an orgasmic buzz that can linger for hours.

Ask me anything . . . go ahead, make me blush!

Cuckold Erotica by Audrey Bocklin

Oh my goodness . . . what a collection! In hindsight, probably not a good choice for an afternoon read in the park (when the fantasy is this hot, a gurl just has to adjust herself from time to time!), but where else can you dangle the desperate hope that some hot wife or well-hung bull will ask what you're reading? :)

Audrey Bocklin's Cuckold Erotica is a whopping 160,000 word collection, so you know you're getting some erotic value for your buck. It contains the entirety of her erotic novel,  Losing Sarah, her  erotic novella, Sundays with Cokie, and four other stories. One word of advice, though - pay attention to Audrey's foreword and make sure you read the Losing Sarah stories in the correct order. She slips her other stories in between Sarah's chapters, which is a nice touch if you are expecting it, but can be confusing.

Losing Sarah is a very dark, very intense story of a professor (Greg) and his wife (Sarah) who start out with a harmless game, a one-time-only experiment with cuckolding, only to have Sara become addicted to the sexual rush of humiliating her husband. I loved the way in which Anna and Martin exploited their power over the curious couple, forcing them to interview and be tested for the chance to be owned. This is one of the strongest cuckolding tales I have ever read, one that demonstrates a depth of emotional understanding and personal conflict that you do not normally encounter in erotica. Sarah's descent into an emotional breakdown, conflicted by her need to be owned and her need to be loved, is frightening, as is Greg's jealousy and self-disgust at allowing himself to be a willing participant.

Once Sarah comes to accept her place, and begins to seduce Greg into accepting his place (which is at Anna's feet), the story really comes alive. Their breaking is neither quick nor easy, and there's still a great deal of emotional torment in store for each, but it all makes their eventual acceptance of their roles so much more significant. It's definitely fantasy, but Audrey doesn't shy away from exploring the real-life consequences of that fantasy, and doesn't offer any tidy perfect ending . . . just like real life.

By contrast, Sundays with Cokie is just a fun story, lighthearted, flirtatious, and very sexy. It provides a welcome contrast to the darkness of Losing Sarah, and is very well-placed in the collecting, coming between the final two chapters there. The other stories cover a wide range of cuckolding fantasies, some dark and some light, but all of them incredibly sexy. The two Julie stories are probably my favourites, a little cruel but also amusing, exploring the rather unusual life of a stripper-turned-submissive and her life with her Mistress and her Mistress' cuckolded husband. I loved Megan's Date too, especially the ways in which Megan humbles and humiliates Casey from across the room.

All-in-all, this is an extremely powerful, wonderfully well-written collection that absolutely belongs on the shelf of any cuckold . . . whether you are living the life or just fantasising about it. My only complaint (and it's a minor one at that) is the very small amount of male/male sex. Personally, I don't think there's anything more erotic and humiliating than forcing a subby-hubby to fluff his Master or clean up wife after she's been filled with their Master's seed, but that's just me.

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Pink Panty Stories by Wendy

The 8 stories contained within Wendy's Pink Panty Stories are very simple, sweet, and sexy, each of them focusing on the forced sissification of a young man into an adult baby. Not necessarily a huge fetish of mine (I'll take heels & corsets over diapers & ruffles any day of the week), but I picked up the collection based on a recommendation from a friend over at Goodreads and I'm glad I gave it a read.

Each story deals with the forced feminization of a young man, either through coercion/blackmail or with the assistance of drugs, by a wide variety of women. The dommes here include friends, complete strangers, step-sisters, and step-mothers. The sissification scenes are very well done (even if they do tend to get a bit repetitive), with Wendy doing a wonderful job of describing not just the look and feel of the baby-girl clothing, but the psychological effect it has on the boys-turned-sissies.

Quite a few of the stories end with the sissies being forcefully pegged by their creators, but there were two scenes in particular that stood out for me. The first involved a double-ended dildo, and the second required the new baby to entertain an entire room full of women sporting a colourful array of strap-on dildos. Personally, I would have loved to see just one 'real' man step into the scene, maybe a step-father or a friend who has no idea what's been done to the sissy, and take advantage . . . but I understand that's not the fetish here.

While I would have loved to see the stories further developed, allowing Wendy to explore the long-term consequences following the initial humiliation, the stories do work very well to explore her central fetish. The sissification is as thorough as it is effective, the humiliation is deep, and the submission is (I must admit) glorious to behold.

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Mother's Shemale Truck Stop Whore by Crystal Veeyant

Okay, let's be honest here bois and gurls . . . when you're dealing with a book called Mother's Shemale Truck Stop Whore, you really ought to expect at least a few taboos to be bent (if not broken) and a few lines to be skirted (if not crossed). What you don't necessarily expect - unless, like myself, you're already a fan of Crystal's - is just how skillfully she handles the material.

This is a story with some very dark elements, particularly surrounding Louise's step-father, the dangers of prostitution, and the ugliness hidden behind the smiling facade of friends and neighbours. It's a story where motives are often as suspect as the acts being performed, and where the court of public opinion weighs heavily upon the lives of a broken family. That's not to say it's a sad story or a difficult one, just that the happiness and erotica is . . . well, not so much tainted but rather enhanced by the potential for darkness.

Although the illusion of incest (and the questions that it raises) is a central theme to Crystal's tale, she is exceptionally clever in her use of a surrogate pregnancy to explore that most taboo of fantasies without actually crossing any legal lines. Even after Louise learns the biological truth about their relationship, their emotional bond remains intact, transforming their incestuous love into something . . . almost pure and wholesome. While some readers may still be uncomfortable with the emotional aspect, there's one reassurance Norma offers her daughter that, for me, really sheds new light on the situation:

"First of all, baby, just remember that's the same society that also says transgender is wrong, that gay is barely acceptable. Is that where you want to get your morals from?"

The erotic heart of the story revolves around mom and daughter first watching each other service clients, then service clients together, and then service each other for their clients. The taboos being exploited are erotic in and of themselves, but Crystal knows how to write a sex scene, how to draw the reader in, and how to ensure you have just as much fun as her characters. This is probably the hottest story she's written to date, and certainly the most explosive in terms of climactic payoffs.

Yes, it's a story that certainly glorifies prostitution to some extent, but which is also aware of the potential dangers involved. Norma and Louise are careful to screen their clients, to protect themselves, and to ensure they never get put into a position over which they have no control . . . until, that is, their greed gets the best of them. That's where the story returns to darkness, ending with dear old Dad pimping out his two whores until they've made enough money to pay back his legal costs from the divorce and criminal trial. Where the story gets ever edgier, and (for me, at least) flirts with even more taboos, is when Dad brings in friends and neighbours, otherwise ordinary members of the community, to take advantage of the services being offered by Norma and Louise.

With Crystal, you know there's a happily-ever-after to come, but she certainly makes her characters earn it. I don't want to spoil the details, but she does a wonderful job of bringing the story full circle, contrasting one act of sexual abuse with another, one act of sexual rebellion with one of sexual redemption, and one act of parental protection with another. It's an entirely satisfying conclusion, even if it's not the one that I expected, and an altogether heartwarming note on which to end a very erotic, very taboo, very explicit tale.

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Breakdown Motel by Ty Marton & Rynna Cress

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Star Search by J.S. Morbius

Star Search is a book I've been anxious to read for a while now, ever since Julez started teasing it over on his Crypt of Morbius blog. The synopsis was great, but it was the single-sentence tagline he teased that really excited me:

It is time to bring love and romance to the Third Sex.


I am delighted to say that, with the exception of one awkward flaw, the novel more than lives up to its promise. It's both romantic and erotic, thrilling, and intriguing. There were some really nice twists to the tale that I wasn't expecting (such as the transsexual gangbang escape), and some real depth to the characters that gave them life well beyond the page.

Basically, this is the tale of a gay man named Joe who hires a transsexual escort to accompany him to an office party. They head back to Joe's place after the party, and indulge in a night of passion that rivals any other transsexual encounter he's ever had. Joe wakes up determined to make her a regular part of his life, only to find her gone . . . and to meet with a rather violent reception when he tries to get any information out of the escort service. Both a good man and a good lover, Joe is not willing to accept their refusal, and sets about trying to track down the glorious Star.

Here is where the flaw comes in. With the help of some girlfriends, Joe - who has never entertained a crossdressing thought in his life - becomes a 100% passable woman overnight. Not only that, but he learns the language and mannerisms so quickly, he's able to convince the very same escort agency to hire him on a day later. As a gurl who knows just how hard it is to be truly convincing, the ease with which Joe presents comes across as embarrassingly false, but know that his heart is in the right place makes acceptance come quickly.

From there, the story gets darker (even as it gets sexier), with some great scenes of reluctant threesomes and foursomes, some transsexual-on-transsexual choreographed porn, and the transsexual gangbang I mention earlier that proves to be the climax of the novel . . . in more ways than one.

As much fun as all that is, though, it's what Julez does with the last few chapters that really sells his original tagline. He takes us beyond the rescue, beyond the happily-ever-after, and lets us indulge in Star and her fellow escorts finding new life outside the sex trade. We get to see justice served, wrongs put right, and true love blossom. An altogether remarkable story, I can't recommend Star Search highly enough.

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The Gender Spectrum of Light

First of all, I just have to say I had an amazing time this weekend - to all those ladies involved (you know who you are!), thanks, and please let is do it again sometime soon.

One topic of conversation that came up over far too many glasses of wine  was that of self-identity. I know, it sounds like a pretty deep topic for a bunch of drunk girls, but when more than half of them are gurls . . . well, it's a natural topic of conversation. Not to beat a dead unicorn or anything (I'm as sick of the topic as everybody else), but I had to share some of that discussion here, even if just to preserve the discussion for the sake of drunken posterity.

Of the 12 of us, 2 identified as female, 3 as transsexual, 5 as transvestite, 1 as androgynous, and 1 as genderqueer. An interesting mix, to be sure! Of course, even among like-mind friends, the inevitable jokes and friendly barbs began to fly. Just what, they all wondered did it mean to be androgynous or genderqueer? Are we, as one suggested, just transsexuals with a fear of commitment? Perhaps, as another accused (we exchanged some angry words, but all parted friends), we are just transvestites with delusions of femininity. Then again, and one of the 'females' among us pondered, maybe we are simply confused, either unable to unwilling to label ourselves.

Nat and I both took offence to the comment about being confused, but Gennifer came closer to the truth than anybody else. Personally, I am entirely unable and completely unwilling to restrict myself to the standardized labels of the male/female gender binary. When you really think about it (and I'm proud to say I opened a few eyes with this comment), even labels like transvestite and transsexual are born from the gender binary, for without the arbitrary restriction of male/female, there would be no need to label how you either emulate one or adopt the other.

In many ways (and I initially pissed off Nat with this comment), being genderqueer is the opposite of being androgynous, which is (I freely accept) a gender binary of another kind altogether. One is all about embracing the entire gender spectrum, sampling those aspects which speak to your heart, expressing those elements that come from your soul, and becoming something more than just male or female. The other is more about rejecting the gender spectrum, refusing to clearly express any socially identifiable elements, and becoming something that is decidedly not male or female.

Where I won Nat back to my side, and finally opened the eyes of other ladies in our group, was in comparing ourselves to colours. If we were all colours of light, genderqueer would be white, and androgynous would be black. In terms of light, white encompasses all the colours (it blends them all together, incorporating a virtual rainbow of light), while black represents the absence of light (it doesn't just reject all the colours, it exists outside them). A few of the ladies argued the point, suggesting that if black and white are opposites, they should represent male and female, but it was Nat who pointed out that it makes more sense to think of male as violet (one end of the spectrum) and female as red (the other end of the spectrum). Looking at it that way, you can't help but be struck by the fact that there's clearly an entire spectrum of colours between them.

Like I said, I don't want to beat a dead unicorn with the old gender binary argument, but the the colour spectrum analogy sounded brilliant after the third (or was it fourth?) bottle of wine . . . and it still sounds pretty good this morning.

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