Tag Archives: futa

Haunted Futanari (Patreon)

Haunted Futanari

Been working on a whole bunch of new stuff over on Patreon. Thought I would post it here as well. If you like my stuff or have something you would like to commission, stop by my Patreon and support a poor writer.  Happy Halloween!


Haunted Futanari (Part 1)

We drove out there on a Saturday night. It was raining, hard enough that the rain sounded like pebbles hitting the windshield. The trip started off fine, my mom and dad were almost getting along, you know, almost like they might have once loved each other. But all that changed after about an hour on the road. Six hours later, and they had barely said a word to each other.

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Come check out my new adventures at Patreon

Follow me…

So, I have decided to move over to Patreon. It’s a decision I have been weighing for a little while. I think it’s an interesting idea, for people who enjoy my work, buying ever copy of a book I write can get expensive and I don’t really have a chance to interact with my reader. On Patreon on, however, I can actually play with my readers! That’s write, as a Patron you not only get exclusive access to what I am working on now, but I am also posting a great deal of previously published stuff just for Patrons. AND you can talk to me!

Cum on over and check it out.



-I’m working on a number of commissions right now as well as new Halloween story (cause, why not, right?).

Futanari Wife

Futanari wife

Futanari Wife

I have been working on the latest series, Little Monster, and in those books, a married woman becomes a futanari. Naturally, this leads to a number of interesting situations with her heterosexual  (but willing to explore for the sake of love) husband. This is the first time she has sex with him.  Enjoy!


When I opened my eyes on Monday, I knew something was different. I felt lighter, like I was a little floaty. It was weird. I sat up half-expecting my stomach to flip, but it didn’t. I wasn’t nauseated, I just felt light, like I was either dramatically stronger, which didn’t look to be the case, or I had lost a few pounds.

I stood up. Everything seemed to work. Nothing was sore, nothing looked bruised. I rubbed my eyes. The last few days had been so strange, maybe it was all in my imagination. I mean, there was nothing visibly wrong with me.

I walked down to the kitchen all bleary-eyed and exhausted. Next to the coffee maker were two cups, one empty and one with a note in front of it.

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