‘Reparation Mummy’ is a milf humiliation story…
…one that I absolutely loved writing. The main character, who is an author of milf blackmail and humiliation fiction’ shares so much in common with myself. And not just the writer aspect. It was a story which taught me a lOT about myself, my own tastes, needs and desires.
Nicola Haines, 43, is the leader of the Conservative Party group on the local Town Council. She is respected, and embodies all the virtues that her position requires. She is a widow, with one son at university.
Natalie Harper is a female author of erotica on KDP. These are dark stories concerned with humiliation, degradation and blackmail. About women like herself descending into the seedy and sordid side of life.
Darren Mortimer is a twenty-year old, self-employed computer repair specialist. He is increasingly bitter and frustrated by his lack of access to the good things in life. Women, money, prestige.
But one day everything changes. because Darren learns that Nicola the council leader, and Natalie, the ‘Queen of the Milf Humiliation Story.’ are one and the same person.
And the possibilities keep him up all night…
A journey to one woman’s Heart of Darkness.
It had been a long evening. Maybe too long. Up in her ‘writing space’ in the newly converted attic, just before midnight, author of erotic fiction, ‘Natalie Harper’ wrote out the words she had been longing to get to:
She sat back and stared at the screen. Her latest book was – at last – finished. It had been a long time in the writing. It wasn’t so much that she was a slow writer, quite the opposite. She could really motor when she needed to. The truth was that she was easily – too easily – distracted. Especially when writing about what was, after all, her ultimate fantasy, her total obsession.
At times she felt the distraction akin to a sickness. Somedays, she just couldn’t keep her hands away from herself. Could barely get through writing a sentence without her own ‘special’ need interrupting. Yes, it was something of a hindrance, but it was a hindrance that fuelled almost every sentence she wrote. After all, how could she turn on her readers if she wasn’t turned on?
No matter what she would be wearing when she sat down to write, she would always be completely naked when she finished. It wasn’t even a choice anymore. It just happened. Gradually she would shed clothing like a snake sheds its unneeded skin. The top was usually first to go, closely followed by the bra. Then, once she had given even a small amount of attention to her still high, firm breasts, the skirt and panties were quick to follow. And once she was down to the skin, it was like she was taken over. Possessed. Like she had become somebody else. Like she was living the life of whatever character she was writing about.
And that was when her hands would wander. When her body and her writing became one. It was a compulsion and one that was increasingly out of control. She was a slave to it…it ruled her; it was essential to her writing.
Still, the book was finished now. She would upload it to Amazon Kindle Publishing Direct in the morning. She used the name ‘Natalie Harper’ to mask her real identity. She couldn’t risk her own reputation. That would never do, would it? She had to keep her two lives in entirely separate compartments. Her real name, Nicola Haines, was a secret no reader would ever know.
It was getting late now, just after midnight. It had been a long evening, a long day, but an important one. Another book all ready to go. Didn’t she deserve a reward?
Of course, she did.
Leaning back with the anticipation of satisfaction, she allowed her fingers to crawl down and slip inside her pussy. Of course, she was already wet. How could she not be? The towel beneath her was soaking. Her thumb pressed her clit and then roughly moved across it. Forward and back. This wouldn’t take long. She could feel the spasms inside her starting to build. Her other hand grabbed at her right breast and twisted hard, mashing her nipple. God, how she needs that mixture of pain and pleasure. It was the headiest of all the sexual cocktails. Her finger-ends dug deep into her tit-flesh, needing to hurt. The pleasure was pale without the magnification of pain. Let there be bruises, she thought as she dug deeper, dug harder. They always looked so erotic. She thought of them as her own personal form of decoration, her jewellery.
Her cunt was really flowing now; she knew she wasn’t far away. Thoughts of the woman she had been writing about flashed through her mind. The ordeals she had endured, the use and abuse she had suffered, the pain and the humiliation of her needs…
The orgasm when it came was a big one, a powerful one. Jesus Christ! She sat there breathing heavily. Casually sucking on one juice-stained finger after another.
She needed to get to bed. She needed to sleep.
God, she was one sick bitch.
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I’m just a woman with an exceptionally ‘grimy’ mind, who loves turning my Immoral thoughts, lewd fantasies and deeply-felt desires into words and stories. Life is just too short to keep them all to myself.
Born and live in Oxford. Divorced. Hobby…..exercising my luring imagination! 🙂