Rescued on his 18th birthday by half-giantess Ingrid from an unbearable life spent mostly under the fleshy buttocks of the huge and insufferable Lotta Bottomley, Peter Petter is astonished to find out that he is a wizard and has a place reserved for him at Fessewarts University for witches and wizards. He is equally surprised to find that the clump of green hair just to the right of his genitals shaped exactly like a peacock is in fact the result of an early encounter with the dark wizard known as He-Who-Must-Never-Be-Sat-Upon.
Peter soon finds that the life of a wizard is far from being the as magical as he (or anyone else) might have supposed. It becomes apparent even before he reaches the university that the wizarding community, particularly the women, have desires and preferences that are often not too dissimilar from those of Lotta Bottomley, and the courses he will study at Fessewarts are as much to improve his knowledge and abilities in the kinkier sexual practices as they are to develop his magical abilities.
With the help (and hindrance) of his friends Don Weenie and Herniame Grimwaite, Peter's particular skills soon surface, but there is evil lurking that threatens to overwhelm the wizarding tradition of female sexual dominance. Whether it comes from the sad, shy girl Merry Shagger, direct descendant of the Mad Mistress of Mooning, or from the sinister, sadistic Professor Scrape, or whether He-Who-Must-Never-Be-Sat-Upon is about to return, no one knows. Someone intends to steal the all-powerful Gallstone, and Peter is about to find out whether he can really trust anyone.
Hairy Peter and The Gallstone is an outrageous erotic parody that leaves little in other wizarding or in sexual domination novels untouched. It is also a highly erotic and exciting story in its own right, with a female domination theme and including BDSM, facesitting, frustration, denial, enforced chastity and forced orgasm among others.
It is also a love story.
EXTRACT
Extract 1
Lotta rose from the bed with difficulty.
"For goodness sake cover yourself, girl," said Mrs Bottomley. "You`ll
have Peter becoming excited in no time if you expose yourself like that."
Peter sensibly refrained from telling Mrs Bottomley that Lotta`s rolls of fat were
unlikely to excite anything other than a frustrated male walrus. Instead, he merely said,
"I wasn`t looking."
"Why not?" enquired Eustace Bottomley. "What`s wrong with my
daughter?"
Peter choked, spluttering on the words that rose from within him and struggled to leave
his mouth all at the same time.
"Oh Peter. Let me help you." Lotta Bottomley rushed to the window to assist
him, ripples running like waves through her wobbling fat, breasts the size of basketballs
bouncing threateningly, and buttocks akin to bolster pillows slapping together with the
menacing appearance of a mobile car crusher searching for its next meal.
As Lotta reached Peter at the window, she caught sight of the Little Bustards outside.
She screamed, and flung her arms around Peter in terror.
Lotta was taller than Peter as well as being heavier and wider. He had the momentary
impression of flying upside down at high speed into a fleshy version of the Grand Canyon
before he crashed into a deep, heavy, smothering thickness that tried to squeeze the life
out of him. The words that had choked him ended up somewhere in the folds of flesh, none
of them reaching the ears of anyone else present.
Extract 2
"We`re getting him out of there right now," shouted Herniame, and before anyone
could stop her she flew her Flying Phallus straight at the closed window.
There was an almighty crash. Glass and wood splintered, falling both in and outside the
room. Herniame and her Flying Phallus disappeared from the view of the others. The
lights in the room were suddenly extinguished, plunging everything and everyone into near
total darkness.
"I suppose we had better go after her," suggested Freda calmly.
"Why not?" agreed Samantha.
Both of them aimed the ends of their Flying Phalluses straight at the gaping window and
dived in. Merry followed and so, more hesitantly, did Peter.
There was pandemonium inside the room. Screams and shouts issued from all corners. It
was impossible to see how many people were in there, although the silhouettes of many
people were lit by brief streams of colour from the tips of spell crops and more
indistinctly still by the duller flashes from violent incantations.
Peter dismounted from his Flying Phallus or, to be more accurate, he flung himself from
it the moment he could feel the floor of the room under his feet. He collided immediately
with something soft, a body, definitely female and definitely naked. It shrieked at him,
and then he lost it in the darkness.
A dozen times more Peter crashed into someone in the dark room. There was a faint light
from the window. The clouds had cleared, but it made little difference to the lack of
visibility inside. Peter was determined to do his best to help his friends to free Don,
yet he could see nothing and did not dare hit out or use an incantation for fear of
striking the wrong person. When he finally found the bed on which Don had been
restrained, it was empty. All he could do was to keep out of the way of the hurtling
bodies and the streams of power being emitted from the spell crops. He wondered how
anyone else was able to see anything or to work out who was who.
"The window is getting smaller!"
It was a scream of warning from Samantha. Peter`s attention snapped towards the feebly
lit window frame just as his legs were swept from under him and he crashed to the floor on
his back.
"Everyone out!" screamed Herniame, and Peter was just able to catch a glimpse
of five shadowy figures departing on Flying Phalluses as the stone walls around the window
closed together with a crash and complete darkness returned. As Peter struggled to get up
from the floor someone landed heavily on his chest pinning him down, and fleshy buttocks
descended smotheringly onto his face.
Extract 3
Olivia had left Peter fully dressed, needing only his face for her particular desires.
Peter`s thoughts together with Herniame`s presence had prompted his robes to start to roll
upwards, and his arousal was obvious.
"Your robes haven`t done that for a while," commented Herniame lightly.
"I threatened to give you a good seeing-to, and I think I`m going to do it. Olivia
won`t be waking up for at least an hour, and I don`t suppose there will be anyone else
around for some time either."
"I`m going to have enough problems stuck in these dormitories without you starting
on me as well," said Peter miserably, but well aware that Herniame was watching his
twitches of excitement at the thought of it.
"You can`t get out of that handcuff?" asked Herniame.
"If I could have got out of it, I would have got out of it," said Peter,
exasperatedly.
"Good," said Herniame.
"Why good?"
"Because, Mr Petter," said Herniame with a wicked grin, "I`m going to
teach you that it`s about time you made more of an effort to behave yourself and to have
some consideration for your friends. You will remember, no doubt, I also told you that
you deserved a good punishment and I would make sure you received one. As I said then,
you are going to find out that Professor Scrape`s lectures are nothing compared with what
I can do to you. So for a start, I think I`ll have you completely naked."
"You can`t. Not while these cuffs are locked onto me," said Peter morosely.
"I can. Nagoy," said Herniame, smiling with satisfaction as Peter`s robes flew
off. "That`s one I learned from Professor Mackafart, and this time you haven`t got
any excuses like being late for Figgitch practice. You`re all mine."
Extract 4
"I thought you would never wake up," replied Merry, standing up from the
armchair where she had been sitting watching Peter for the last few hours. She walked
over to him and sat on the arm of the chair beside him.
"I still like you," she said. "Do you like me?"
"You`re a bit scary sometimes," said Peter.
"Do I really look scary?" asked Merry in surprise, turning towards Peter as she
spoke.
He looked. At that moment, no one could possibly have described Merry as looking scary.
Her hair, soft and slightly dishevelled, hung loose around her shoulders. She was slim,
neat, and yet just a little too long-limbed, as though she was no more than a teenager who
had just put on a spurt of growth and the rest of her body had not yet caught up with the
lengthening of her arms and legs. Her shoulders were bare, with only the thin straps of
her silvery nightdress breaking the smooth flow of skin from her arms to her slender neck.
The nightdress hung loosely about her; not so loosely that her girlish shape was lost in
it but loosely enough for it to flow around her, clinging and outlining one part of her
body and then another as she moved. Delicate patterns in the shiny material accentuated
her breasts, pulled tightly across them and, as if she were outgrowing the nightdress and
had burst through it, exposing a little ring of white skin around each of her slightly
darker nipples that stood impertinently stiff and inquisitive.
"You scare me with your magic," said Peter, and then as Merry`s face clouded
with sadness he reached out to put his arm around her.
She slid from the arm of the chair onto his lap, snuggling her head onto his shoulder.
For just a second she raised her face to his, touching his lips lightly with hers, and
then she pressed tightly against him as she closed her eyes.
Peter said nothing, enjoying the warmth of her body scarcely covered by her nightdress.
He was still tired, and by the time Merry had fallen asleep comfortably resting on him, he
too was drifting away into a deep sleep. If he dreamed this time, he remembered none of
it.
“Susan Strict” is a writer of literature that generally, but not exclusively, has a Femdom theme. Susan herself is, in part at least, a fictional character. No one has all of Susan’s characteristics, yet few women – and, probably, men - have none of them. As a writer, Susan’s character comes across clearly in her stories and novels. She is dominant, and would love to be far more dominant than reality will permit. As such, the outlet of her dominance is through her writing. At the same time, throughout much of her writing her wicked imagination takes twists and turns that are far more than simple dominance and submission, and her outrageous sense of humour surfaces over and over again.
An idea, a suggestion, an outburst, may spark Susan into actions quite remote from her “natural” character, with fascinating results. Susan loves to experiment, to test, to shock both her readers and herself. She likes to explore, usually without losing touch of her dominant position, although even this has been tested on more than one occasion.
Following Susan, or being part of her as the author of her writing has become, is exciting and unpredictable for whichever sex you are and whatever your inclinations. Certainly to appreciate Susan’s thoughts and writing properly it may help to be either outrageously dominant or submissive, but it may well be that those whose leanings are more middle-of-the-road may find more than a little for them too.