A little over a year ago, my friend Dyson approached me with a ridiculous idea. He wanted to know if I wanted to write stories and sell them through a little publishing house he was setting up.
The name of it is Hommi, which he says is slang for 'faggot' in Iceland. I figured, "Why the fuck not?"
My tastes run a little different than his, so it's a match made in heaven. His first time was on a pool table in a bar in New Orleans, mine was with a couple of cousins (which has led to a lifelong obsession with incest and uncut dicks).
I was also raped when I was in high school. So, even though I write about it and really get off on the idea, I do understand the effects it can have. So, before you judge too much--maybe this is my way of coping with it...
And maybe I'm just a twisted fuck.
My husband is the only one who can make that call, and his mouth's usually too full of my body parts to comment.
I let Dyson soften whatever he can--adding 'step' in front of 'father' and 'son' and 'uncle' enough to keep Amazon's censors happy. But, some of the harder stuff, like what's coming up in The Factory series and Experiment... there's no fucking way to tone it down.
I hope you have half as much fun reading my stuff as I have writing it.
Don't forget to vote...
Check out upcoming stuff and vote on which story I finish next. Nothing spurs me on like knowing there are cocks out there to please.