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[johnstock17]

Genshin Haul: Childe and Zhongli go clothes shopping (part 2)

The curtain of the fitting room swished open, revealing Childe in his chosen ensemble. He struck a pose reminiscent of a dashing hero from a tale of old, one hand on his hip and the other flourishing an imaginary cape.

"Behold!" he declared with a playful grin, "What do you think?"

Zhongli, who had been patiently waiting outside, raised an eyebrow before allowing his gaze to leisurely travel up and down Childe's form. The outfit made quite the statement.

It was a streetwear outfit that combined the practicality of a traveler with the sleek style of urban fashion. 

He was wearing a fitted, dark gray hoodie with intricate gold embroidery along the sleeves, echoing the designs of the Liyue Qixing. The hoodie’s high collar and asymmetrical zip gave it a modern edge, while the deep hood added an air of mystery. Underneath, he sported a simple black t-shirt with a small Fatui emblem subtly printed on the chest.

For bottoms, Childe opted for slim, black cargo pants that were both comfortable and functional, featuring multiple pockets with brass zippers and buttons. His footwear consisted of sleek, black combat boots with gold accents, providing durability and style. A wide, red sash was tied loosely around his waist, adding a pop of color. To complete the look, he wore fingerless gloves and a silver chain bracelet, blending the rugged with the refined.

"Pretty interesting," Zhongli murmured, his tone light. "It is certainly a testament to your… unique taste."

Childe pouted, feeling a twinge of disappointment at Zhongli's lack of enthusiasm. "Come on, you can be honest with me. I can take it."

The corners of Zhongli's lips twitched ever so slightly. "Very well. While the outfit does possess charm, and overall gives off a cohesive energy, I believe the effect would be more harmonious if you were to choose one or two core pieces, and let the rest be small accents."

As he paused, the other man stood in silence, taking in his words. So, he finished his thought in a more direct manner.

“In simpler words, it’s too much.” he concluded.

“Ah, well, I guess I can see it.” Childe chuckled. “Noted. Let’s get into the next one then.”

As he retreated into the dressing room, the older man surveyed their surroundings in a leisurely way while thinking to himself. This is nice, he thought. I never would have thought of this as a fun plan, but I guess you can’t really grow if you don’t try new things. I might even get an outfit for myself. I’ve been meaning to try wearing more lively colors.

The rustling of the curtain shook him from his thoughts. From a gap between it and the wall emerged the animated expression of his companion. 

“So,” Childe said while making a face that read sorry about this, “I know you said to not overdo it.” Zhongli opened his mouth to say something, but he cut him off. “But! Just hear me out. Isn’t this a great fit?” he asked lightly as he jerked the whole curtain open.

He donned a multicolored, patchwork jacket that mixed bright hues of red, yellow, blue, and green, with each section featuring a different pattern—stripes, polka dots, and checkers. The jacket’s exaggerated, oversized collar and wide, flared cuffs gave it a whimsical, almost jester-like appearance.

Underneath, Childe wore a fitted shirt with puffed sleeves, adding to the outfit’s quirky charm. His pants were equally eye-catching—bright red with large, mismatched patches sewn onto the knees and thighs. A pair of green suspenders held the pants up. His footwear was equally eccentric: pointed-toe shoes adorned his feet. The right shoe was a sterile white color, while the left one was pitch black.

To complete the ensemble, Childe wore a large hat in bright purple, with a single, oversized feather stuck into the band. 

Zhongli erupted into laughter at the sight. He looked like a festival jester. Utterly ridiculous, but still charming. This joyous sound of his laugh bounced off and infected Childe, who started cackling as well.

The two men laughed for a good moment, fueled by how ridiculous the outfit looked when Childe was bending over, trying to catch his breath.

Once they finally managed to calm down, Zhongli, back to his more reserved demeanor, finally said, “I don’t know what to say. This is either the single most atrocious outfit ever put together, or it’s the next step in fashion evolution.”

Still lightly chuckling, the redheaded man said “I’m just messing with you. Even I have my limits.” He then continued as he started removing the attire, starting with the dense jacket, “Although, I would like your opinion on how I could make a colorful getup work. Kind of like this style, except not lunatic.”

Zhongli stroked his chin as he mulled it over. “Well, while I appreciate your enthusiasm for bold patterns, perhaps consider balancing them with more subdued colors Like wearing a lively shirt, but with toned down pants that will allow it to stand out. Or a solid-colored jacket tends to work well”

Childe pondered Zhongli's words, appreciating both the advice and the opportunity to learn from someone as refined as him. "You might be onto something there," he admitted, mentally noting which pieces could be adjusted to achieve the perfect balance between extravagance and elegance.

"Furthermore," Zhongli continued as he pointed at the jacket that was now folded on his arm, "you may wish to consider the fit of your garments. Proper tailoring can accentuate one's natural physique quite a lot."

"I’d agree with you, except my physique is already flawless.” The makeshift model said with a smirk.

A slight blush crept up on Zhongli’s face as he replied “I’m serious. Besides the jacket being too big, the pants are too high waisted, and your shirt is not proportioned correctly. The seams where the center piece meets the sleeves should be right over your shoulder line, right now it’s too wide”

“Huh,” Childe flashed a humble smile, “I honestly did not know that. How do I even fix that?”

“Well,” he said as he stood up and approached the booth, “I guess it would require stitching. Probably along these spots here. Look.”

Zhongli finished his approach and was now face to face with him. Without saying a word, he, feigning nonchalance, placed his hands on the shirt.

Childe couldn't help but feel a thrill run through him as Zhongli's fingers adjusted the fit of his clothes, guiding him towards a more refined presentation. The dark-haired man placed his determined hands on his arms and pinched the fabric, lifting it until it rose to his shoulders. He then kept them near his collarbone with a focused gaze. 

“Yes, that would work.” He said with a slight smile, eyes not meeting Childe’s.  

"Got it," Childe mumbled, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as he struggled to focus on anything other than the tantalizing warmth of Zhongli's presence. "I'll keep that in mind."

They stood close to each other, neither daring to breathe. Childe cursed his own awkwardness, and, to break the tension, said the first thing that came to his mind.

“And what had you said about the pants?” Childe asked in a low voice, his sheepishness surprising him.

“Ah. Yes. The pants.” The other man, still close to him, said. “They’re too high waisted. Besides taking off the stupid suspenders,” they both chuckled for a second, dissipating some of the tension, “you could probably stitch it in the sides so it’s a tighter fit.”

After hesitating for a moment, Zhongli’s hands began traveling downwards, toward the hem of the pants. Childe didn’t protest, he just stood in attentive silence.

Just as Zhongli began to crouch down and place his hands on Childe’s waistband, the store's door flew open with a bang.

Lumine burst into the shop, her golden hair streaming behind her like a comet's tail, her eyes alight with urgency. "Childe!" she exclaimed, barely sparing a glance at his attire. "I must speak with you immediately!"

[johnstock17]

Genshin Haul: Childe and Zhongli go clothes shopping (part 1)

The bell above the door jingled merrily as Childe burst into the clothing store, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. The racks of clothes before him stretched out like a colorful sea of fabric, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement run through him.

"Zhongli, look at all these outfits!" Childe exclaimed, practically bouncing on his toes. "I'm going to find something amazing!"

Right on Childe's heels, Zhongli entered the store with an air of grace that seemed to follow him wherever he went. His dignified presence was a stark contrast to Childe's whirlwind of energy, but he couldn't deny the infectious enthusiasm that radiated from his companion.

"Indeed," Zhongli replied in his elegant, even tone. "There is quite a selection here."

Childe darted from one rack to another, hands skimming over the various fabrics as if trying to absorb their essence through touch alone. His mind raced with possibilities, each outfit a new challenge waiting to be conquered.

"Ah, this one looks interesting!" Childe said, reaching for a particularly eye-catching item.

"Take your time," Zhongli said, his voice a calming balm to Childe's racing thoughts. "Fashion, after all, is an art form that requires careful consideration."

"Of course," Childe replied, his playful smirk never leaving his face. He knew Zhongli enjoyed watching him embrace life's little pleasures, even if the stoic man would never admit it outright. It was a dance they engaged in, a balancing act between Childe's exuberance and Zhongli's composure.

"Who knows?" Childe mused, not entirely to himself. "Maybe I'll find something that'll make even you raise an eyebrow."

"Ah," Zhongli responded, his cool amber eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement. "That would be quite the accomplishment."

As he set off in search for the perfect outfit, Childe couldn't help but revel in the thrill of it all. Wearing something new and exciting put him in a good mood, that’s why he dragged Zhongli here on their day off. The dark haired man “begrudgingly” accepted with a dragging tone, but Childe knew that he liked the prospect. 

A gleam sparked in Childe's eyes as he spotted an outfit that practically called his name. The ensemble was bold and daring, with a vibrant pattern that would undoubtedly make a statement wherever it was worn.

"Hey! Take a look at this!" Childe exclaimed, holding the outfit up for inspection with a grin plastered on his face. "Isn't this just perfect?"

"Ah, quite eye-catching indeed," Zhongli replied, his gaze flickering over the garment with a thoughtful expression. "However, have you considered trying on something more elegant and refined? It could be an opportunity to showcase your versatility."

Childe raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the idea. "Do you think I can't pull this one off?" he asked, a playful challenge lacing his words.

"Quite the contrary," Zhongli said, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “This outfit in particular seems like it was made for you. But you shouldn’t limit yourself to one style. I believe that you possess the ability to surprise even yourself."

"Alright then," Childe conceded, his competitive nature piqued. "I’m game. Let's find me something that'll make people think 'Wow, who's that dashing gentleman?'"

Zhongli chuckled inwardly, but said nothing. Instead, he turned and let his eyes explore the shop’s limitless options.

As Childe sifted through the racks, he began to imagine himself wearing some of the more sophisticated ensembles, attending lavish parties and making hearts swoon.

The faint scent of polished leather and finely tailored fabric hung in the air as Childe shifted his gaze from one exquisite outfit to another. He could already feel the thrill of trying on these luxurious garments, eager to see how they would transform him. A glint of mischief flickered in his eyes as he reached for a particularly eye-catching ensemble that seemed too daring to be displayed out in the open.

"Zhongli, what do you think of this one?" Childe asked, holding up a tight and deep crimson silk shirt. 

"An… interesting choice," Zhongli mused, steeling his voice so as to not sound rattled. He reminded himself that it was only a shirt, and not to… fantasize. “It will certainly match your hair pretty amazingly.”

“Exactly,” the red headed man grinned, “I’m so glad you understand how utterly amazing I am.”

“Well,” Zhongli replied shyly, “I really wouldn’t say–” 

“Oh! Look at that one!” Childe cut him off, half-accidentally, then dashed to a nearby rack and submerged his arm into its soft entrails.

The excited man ran rampant for a few more minutes, shaking pieces off of shelves, racks and drawers. He picked up tops, pants, blazers, belts, sweaters. He moved swiftly, as in a battlefield. After tormenting the store with his frantic movements, the orange whirlwind settled down and called to his chaperone.

"Okay, Zhongli, I've got my choices," Childe announced, his arms holding a mountain made of all types of fabrics "Time to show you what I've got."

"By all means," Zhongli replied, his voice steady but not devoid of anticipation. “Let’s head to the fitting rooms.”

[johnstock17]

Writing commissions open!

Hey everyone! It's been a while since all my slots were open, so I'm willing to take on new clients and stories!

If you’re itching for a fantasy of yours to come to life, I can make it happen! I don't have any restrictions nor judgments, so go ahead and ask away.

If you're interested, let me know and we can work out the details. I can also provide samples of my past works if you wish to see them.

I await your messages! Have a good one!

[johnstock17]

"Amortentia Overdose" part 2

Romilda Vane sat in the old room, her heart pounding like a drum as she looked over at Parvati Patil. 

With a lopsided grin, she leaned in conspiratorially, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Parvati, I did something...reckless," Romilda confessed, her eyes darting about nervously. "I slipped Harry a love potion earlier tonight."

"Are you serious?" Parvati's eyes widened, her voice hushed. "That's dangerous, Romilda!"

Romilda's cheeks flushed with excitement, and she bit her lip, unable to contain her arousal. "I know, but I couldn't help it. I've been dreaming about him for weeks, feeling this unbearable hunger deep inside me. Tonight, I just had to have him."

"Romilda, you should be careful," Parvati warned, her tone laced with concern. "You don't want to get caught, or hurt Harry in any way."

"Trust me, I don't plan on hurting him," Romilda replied with a wicked smile. She hesitated for a moment, then added, "In fact, I don't want anything but to make him feel good. I'm not even wearing underwear right now, hoping he will find me irresistible."

"Merlin's beard, Romilda!" Parvati gasped, both shocked and amused by her friend's boldness.

Romilda gazed at the flickering candlelight, the shadows dancing across the spines of ancient books. Her mind filled with fantasies of Harry, the smell of parchment mixed with the scent of their heated bodies, providing a sensual backdrop for her illicit desires.

"Can you imagine his hands on me, Parvati?" she breathed, shivering at the thought. "His lips on mine, his breath hot against my skin... Oh, I can't stand it anymore! I need him."

"Romilda, you should really think this through," Parvati cautioned. "This may not end the way you want it to."

"Maybe not," she admitted, her voice thick with lust. "But right now, all I can focus on is how desperately I want Harry Potter to touch me, to taste me, to make me feel alive."

A sudden gust of wind rustled the pages of their books, causing Parvati to shudder. She glanced at Romilda, who seemed lost in her thoughts, her eyes glazed with desire.

"Look," Parvati said gently, placing a comforting hand on Romilda's arm. "I understand how you feel, but I think there might have been a better way to handle the situation."

"Perhaps," Romilda murmured distractedly. Her body tensed as she felt an unexpected sensation – it was as if invisible hands were gliding over her thighs, gently squeezing and teasing the sensitive flesh. She bit her lip, struggling to suppress a moan, her mind racing with confusion and arousal.

"Are you alright?" Parvati asked, noticing Romilda's flushed cheeks and shortness of breath.

"Y-yes," she stammered, doing her best to keep her composure. "Just... just got a chill, that's all." But the sensations continued, growing more intense by the second. The phantom caresses moved upwards, brushing against the soft area between her legs, eliciting a shiver that ran down her spine.

"Romilda, you're not yourself," Parvati insisted, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Maybe you're right," Romilda replied, her words barely a whisper. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to make sense of what was happening, her body betraying her as it responded to the invisible touch.

As she kept being touched, her desperate skin caressed by these invisible hands, her mind conjured up lustful thoughts of him.

"Harry," she breathed to herself, almost involuntarily, as the ghostly fingers traced delicate patterns across her aroused flesh. Her mind was a whirlwind of pleasure and bewilderment, but one thing was becoming increasingly clear – she needed to find Harry Potter and confront him about these strange, forbidden desires that were consuming her.

Romilda forced a laugh, attempting to divert Parvati's attention from her flushed face, "I'm fine. Just a bit warm in here, don't you think?" She tried to focus on Parvati's words, but the sensation of invisible fingers tracing along her inner thigh was both thrilling and distracting.

"Maybe," Parvati replied, unconvinced, "I'll just open a window." The soft sound of glass creaking open filled the room, but it did little to alleviate the heat pooling within Romilda. As she sat there, the unseen hands grew bolder, reaching up to cup her breasts with a gentle squeeze.

"Ah!" Romilda gasped, unable to suppress her reaction entirely. She tried to cover it up with a cough, hoping Parvati wouldn't notice. "Sorry, something stuck in my throat," she lied, swallowing hard.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Parvati asked, her eyes narrowing with concern. Meanwhile, the phantom caresses continued their exploration, teasing her nipples through the fabric of her robes as they hardened under the skilled touch.

"Y-yes," Romilda answered, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Just need some water, I think." Her mind raced, desperate for an escape from the situation. She had no idea what was happening, but the pleasure coursing through her veins made it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else.

"Alright then, I'll fetch you some water from the fountain," Parvati offered, still eyeing her friend warily. "Stay put, I'll be back in a moment."

"Thanks, Parvati," Romilda whispered gratefully. As soon as her friend disappeared around the corner of the bookshelves, she allowed herself a moan, gripping the edge of the table while the invisible hands continued to stroke and tease her sensitive flesh. It was overwhelming, the intense pleasure mixed with the fear of being caught.

"Harry," she whimpered, unable to contain her longing for him any longer. A part of her hoped that somehow he could hear her, that he would appear before her and put an end to this torturous game. But as the moments stretched on, there was no sign of him – only the relentless touch of the invisible hands, driving her further into a state of fevered desire.

"Romilda?" Parvati's voice echoed through the library, causing Romilda to jump in her seat. "I've got your water."

"Thank you," she managed, taking the glass from Parvati with trembling hands. She gulped it down greedily, hoping it would quench the fire raging within her. But the invisible touch remained, insistent and unyielding, leaving her desperate for answers and aching with desire for Harry Potter.

As Romilda's heart pounded in her chest, she felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead. The invisible hands that had been touching her continued their relentless assault, pushing her closer to the edge. Her breath hitched as an intense wave of pleasure washed over her.

"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible but laced with desperation. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the moans threatening to escape. She couldn't let Parvati know what was happening.

It was at that moment that Harry, unable to resist his urges any longer, decided to take things further. He carefully positioned his wand and, with a deep breath, gently began to insert it into Romilda's warm body. The sensation made her gasp loudly, her eyes snapping open in shock.

[johnstock17]

"Amortentia Overdose" part 1

Romilda.

That was the thought that reigned in his head as he woke up. It was the only thought, really.

The full moon cast its silvery glow upon the darkened Gryffindor dormitory, illuminating Harry Potter’s restless form as he sat abruptly on his bed. His heart pounded with a primal rhythm, each beat sending waves of desire coursing through his body.

He was consumed by lustful thoughts of Romilda Vane, whose seductive smile and bewitching eyes had ensnared him. As beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, Harry knew that mere dreams could not quench his thirst for Romilda. He needed to find her. To touch her. To taste her.

"Let's see where you are," he whispered hoarsely to himself.

He reached to grab the Marauder’s Map from his trunk. He usually used it for emergencies. Which is why it felt right in this situation. With a deft flick of his wrist, he tapped his wand and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He really meant it.

The map sprang to life, revealing the intricate layout of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the whereabouts of every soul within its walls.

"Romilda Vane," Harry breathed, his eyes scanning the parchment hungrily. His pulse quickened when he finally located her name. She was in the library, accompanied by Parvati Patil. "Of course," he murmured, recalling how studious both girls were known to be. "Late-night study session."

With trembling hands, he reached for his invisibility cloak, hidden not far away. The soft fabric slid over his skin like a lover's caress, fueling his anticipation. Donning the cloak, Harry vanished from sight, leaving only a gentle rustle of fabric in his wake. He crept out of the dormitory, every fiber of his being focused on Romilda. The castle's cold stone floors beneath his feet did little to cool the fire that burned within him.

As he walked stealthily, thoughts of her reigned in his mind. Her coy smile, her playful freckles… her figure. The mandatory robes and garments from the school were usually a teenage boy’s enemy, but as Harry began to recall, Romilda always looked more than splendid. The way her school uniform hugged her body, flowy in some spots yet restrictive in all the right places. Back then, Harry played dumb, but he did notice how the curve of her butt made her skirt slightly shorter, or how her breasts defined the front of her shirt.

Another thing that he chose to ignore at the time, but now couldn’t keep out of his mind was all the signs Romilda had thrown his way. The lingering looks, the hearty laughs. Even those times where she deliberately went up the stairs in front of him, giving him a front row seat to watch her backside as her hips swayed with each step.

The castle's corridors seemed to stretch on forever, winding and dimly lit by the flickering torches. Harry's heart pounded in his chest like a wild animal as he looked for his prey. His breathing was labored, his eyes focused.

"Romilda," he whispered into the darkness, her name a salve to his aching soul. "I’m coming for you."

He couldn't help but be consumed by thoughts of her, the way her dark curls framed her face, her eyes sparking like embers in the firelight. Each memory of Romilda fanned the flames of his yearning, leaving him hungry for her touch.

"Damn it, focus, Potter," he chided himself, realizing he'd nearly missed a turn that would have taken him far from the library. With renewed purpose, he pressed on.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice called out suddenly, stopping Harry dead in his tracks. He held his breath, his heart leaping into his throat.

Professor McGonagall stood in the middle of the passageway, lamp in one hand and wand in the other. Harry remained still, not moving a muscle. The older woman inspected her surroundings with caution. After not detecting anything, she calmed down and whispered, "Must've been my imagination." After that, she carried on with her patrol down a separate hallway.

Harry exhaled slowly, cursing his carelessness. If she had caught him, his quest to find Romilda would have ended before it even began.

Too close, he thought to himself, forcing his limbs back into motion. I need to be more vigilant.

As he neared the library, the scent of old parchment and leather-bound books wafted through the air, a subtle reminder of the countless secrets these walls had borne witness to throughout the centuries. It was fitting, then, that tonight would hold yet another secret – one he and Romilda would share, their connection forged in the shadows of these hallowed halls.

Almost there, Harry thought, his pulse quickening. Soon, she'll know how much I need her.

With every step closer to the library, the thrumming of his heart grew louder, drowning out all other sounds. He could almost taste the intoxicating mix of power and vulnerability that awaited him just beyond the door.

When the heavy oak doors finally swung open before him, revealing the dimly lit room where Romilda sat, he stepped in with resolve.

"Romilda," he whispered under his breath, "I'm here."

[johnstock17]

I finally opened up a Patreon page! If you think you might be interested in gaining access to tons of exclusive stories (and even commission a custom story for yourself) be sure to check it out!

[johnstock17]

Below is an extract from a recently commissioned work of mine. Our main character, Zeke, has quite an unfortunate life. While having a sexual encounter with Lumin, she does something that causes him to experience a new kind of misery…

Lumin's eyes gleamed with wicked delight as she picked up one of the dildos that was once a part of Zeke. The cold, smooth silicone sent shivers down her spine, and the thought of what she was about to do truly aroused her. "Watch closely," she taunted, positioning the dildo between her legs.

Zeke could do nothing but stare as Lumin began to pleasure herself with the very thing that had been ripped from him. Each moan and sigh that escaped her lips only served to twist the knife deeper into his heart, a cruel reminder of the pleasure he was being denied. As if sensing his thoughts, Lumin smirked. She took the dildo in her fingers, dancing across its length, sending jolts of sensation through him that left him trembling with desire. The worst part about this whole ordeal was that he could feel it. He could feel it all. But while his penis was detached from his body, he would be unable to find release.

"Ah, poor Zeke," Lumin cooed mockingly. "I bet you wish it was you penetrating me, huh?." "Please... let me..." Zeke choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I will, eventually," Lumin replied, never pausing in her relentless torment. "Just let me have this first."

She penetrated herself once again. With each thrust of the dildo inside her, Lumin's breath grew more ragged, her cries of ecstasy ringing in Zeke's ears. She reveled in the power she held over him, knowing that every touch, every movement, served to build his frustration and desperation to unbearable heights.

"Maybe," she panted between moans. "After I'm done fucking myself, I'll let you have some fun." Zeke clung to this shred of hope. But as the minutes ticked by and Lumin's pleasure intensified, it became harder and harder for him to believe that she would ever grant him the mercy he so desperately sought.

"Please," he whispered again, tears stinging his eyes. "Please, Lumin...". "Shh," she breathed, her climax imminent. "Just a little longer, Zeke. Just a little... bit... more..."

As Lumin's moans reached their crescendo, her body shuddered in the throes of orgasm. Zeke, on the other hand, was left teetering on the edge of his own climax, desperate for release but denied it by Lumin's sadistic whims.

[johnstock17]

Small fragment from a recently commissioned work. The idea was to create a painful and pitiful image in just a couple of sentences.

The slender child laid against the hard wall of the building, looking out on the street. Every time a person passed by him he begged them for food, pleading desperately. Most of them, of course, didn’t even look at him. On the horizon, the sun began to set once again. His exposed flesh shivered. It would be another cold night.

[johnstock17]

A short extract from a recently commissioned work of mine. Shows the pain of almost getting things right.

After setting a foot outside the cabin he turned to close the door, and saw a figure shaking frantically on the floor. Saw his desperate eyes, craving for oxygen. He shut the gate and escaped through the corridor. Apparently Lyla had started extracting the man, but they fled before they were able to give him the injection. They just left him there. To die.

[johnstock17]

Writing commissions open once again!

If you’re itching for a story or fantasy of yours to come to life, I can make it happen! 

About my workstyle: I’m pretty flexible when it comes to story types or writing styles, so feel free to request whatever story you desire. I can also adapt to whatever length or format you’d like the tale to have. 

As a sneak peek of my writing, here’s an extract from a project I recently finished for a client. I have their permission to post this.

"Eric," she whispered, her voice sultry and seductive, "I want to thank you for all the help you've given me with school. But I don't want it to be a simple 'thank you'. No, I want to show my gratitude in a way that's unique... unforgettable." "Y-you don't have to do this, Aisha," he stammered nervously, the gentlemanly side of him still fighting to maintain decorum despite the overwhelming surge of lust coursing through his body. "Ah, but I want to, Eric," she replied, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "I want to dominate you, tease you, make you mine." Her fingers continued their journey down her blouse, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her black bra. "And in return, I promise to give you a sexual experience you'll never forget." "Okay," he heard himself whisper, barely believing the words as they left his mouth. "I'm ready, Aisha." "Good," she purred, her gaze predatory and full of promise.

If you’d like to see more writing samples, I can send them privately.

If you’re interested don’t hesitate to leave a comment or send me a message!

[johnstock17]

Hey everyone! I just thought I’d let you know that I'm opening up my writing commissions!

You can ask for whatever it is that you fancy. Whatever story you envision, or a secret fantasy you’d love to see; I can make them come to life!

I don’t have any restrictions, I’ll write whatever it is you desire. I’m not picky about length or price, thus I’m not gonna specify those here. I prefer to tailor the story for each client.

If you’re interested, let me know and we can work out the details. I can also provide writing samples if you wish. I look forward to bringing your desires to life!