hello i hate the milquetoastification of indie fiction

…and you should, too.

Reader, reader. What have we here? A blog post? This must really be something special. Regina rarely posts actual blog entries, and even more rarely starts a post on her site with ‘i hate’ instead of ‘i love.’ Yet, this where we find ourselves. I just need to vent a little: moreover, I need to implore you, reader, to think about what I am writing here, because I mean it sincerely.

I woke up this morning to find another horror author, whose pen name and work shall not be named, had a year-old book blocked an Amazon–an action that most likely occurred because somebody complained about it. A horror book. In the horror category. By a known author of extreme horror.

This is really sticking in my craw because I had a similar situation earlier in the month concerning a book published on the website Godless.com, which is meant specifically for horrific, shocking, boundary-pushing horror fiction that can (or should) not be published anywhere else. Unbeknownst to me, somebody I know–and at that point respected–went behind my back to the site creator to complain the piece, a 4500 word piece of shock horror comparable to many other pieces on the site. Is it the best piece I’ve ever written in my life? Of course not, I wrote it in an afternoon to be shocking and depraved, and to make readers question why they read this sort of fiction. But I stand by the piece, and the emotional reaction it evidently triggered in this person indicates to me that the piece is successful.

That being said, I have been affected for almost a month by this ridiculous scenario. I feel censorious eyes peering over my keyboard and into my mind as I try to think of something to write, and for the past weeks just a bit of my joy has been sapped from me whenever I do make it to the keyboard. This is the real goal the person had by first going to the Godless.com creator, then by sending me a personal message that amounted to a drive-by when they refused to reply. The person was offended and upset by the work, and when someone is upset, they want to upset the person who upset them. The motive for demanding another person remove a piece of art from circulation, whatever the quality, can only be a malicious one.

There are people out there who want writers to suck. I don’t mean just vindictive book bloggers, either. There are writers who want other writers to suck. There are people who have nothing to do with the world of publishing, who haven’t read a book since high school (or maybe haven’t graduated it) who want writers to suck. This latter group is made of people who pile-on to a situation on Twitter or Facebook so they can enjoy criticizing a content creator for a work they know nothing about. As for the rest, the frustrated writers who take pleasure in trashing the works of other writers, this is a truly lowly sort upon whom I’ll waste little time other than to say they are doomed to evolve into vindictive book bloggers, their works unread by the community that has long-since seen them for what they are.

But why would anyone want another person’s work to suck, Regina? Surely you’re looking at this the wrong way. These good, wholesome, neighborly souls are only concerned. They want to keep readers from reading “bad” books, so they leave informative 1-star reviews everywhere they possibly can. They want to keep writers from publishing (or preferably from writing at all) “bad” books, so they complain to Amazon and other platforms in the name of having the books taken down–thus, also, protecting these poor, helpless readers from the bad, bad fiction that offended the tattle-tale.

These are their stated goals, I will give you that. But, reader, this sort of person who can’t leave well enough alone actually has another goal seated in their heart of hearts. No matter what they tell themselves, the type of person who complains about a book is doing so for self-motivated reasons. If outside of the publishing/reading industry, they tend to be jealous of success in general and simply enjoy the schadenfreude that comes from latching onto a good public witch hunt. If they are a reader, then it is because they were so offended by the book that they want to hurt the author in their turn. And if they proclaim to be a fellow writer, then they can have one goal and one goal only: to rein in their competition until one of them sings a swansong and quits publishing altogether…or at least publishing in their genre.

Some writers believe that, rather than writing to the market, the market should conform to their tastes–and that other writers, for not doing the same, are wrong or in some way lacking in quality. For these authors, the only possibility they have of success, so far as they can see, is proving to readers that their taste is “wrong.” They write long reviews of other authors’ works that belittle the piece as much as possible before ending in snide urgings like, “But hey, if writing is your passion, keep doing it!” They critique in-progress works shared in confidence in such a way as to hamper their final form, rather than helping hone them to success. Most vilely, they report books to the platforms on which they’re published so that even extreme horror fiction properly categorized has no chance to remain for sale. To play it safe, deplatformed writers may end up writing milder things.

And that is exactly what these petty agitators want. They do not want to see boundaries pushed and authors inspired by one another. They do not want to look evil in the face or think that someone may disagree with them. They do not want to see others successful when their own books can’t seem to get past a handful of reviews and a couple of sales a month. They want only their own immediate success, and they just cannot understand why shitting on others won’t make it come any faster.

I am writing this entry today to urge you, reader, to never be like these people. Love fellow writers. Support them. Encourage them even if you don’t personally enjoy their work. Celebrate their successes, because one day they’re going to celebrate yours. Don’t be mediocre, and don’t let anyone tell you that you should be. When people are upset about your art, upset them more.

And if you’re a reader only? As Shirley Jackson once said to a rude critic, “If you don’t like my peaches, don’t shake my tree.” Let extreme horror grow in its profane groves of eyeball bushes and vaginal trees. It’s not doing anyone any real harm, and if you think that you’re worried it is, well…stop and ask yourself if that’s really the problem you have with it.

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hello i love sharing uncensored stories on godless.com, including exclusive dottie & sabine shorts and a special cut of FAMILIARITY

HAIL SATAN! PRAISES BE UPON SAINT WALPURGIA! READ FAMILIARITY!

At long last, FAMILIARITY is ready to seduce you into a higher state of consciousness. But before you buy, you have to ask yourself: do you really want to know what’s behind the veil?

YES, I WANT 10,000 EXTRA WORDS AND A PREFACE NOT SUITED TO AMAZON

NO, THE AMAZON VERSION IS ENOUGH FOR ME

This book is NOT AVAILABLE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to offer you the GODLESS CUT, so make your choice and be sure to leave a review! Oh–and while I’m at it, be sure to snag the exclusive DOTTIE and SABINE shorts that are only available on Godless. They were just a little too much for Amazon!

===

FAMILIARITY – AVAILABLE 4/30/21

God understands that sometimes people need to die.

Libertine abortionist Dr. Hammond Harteveldt bears a charmed life, though most might not feel that way. After all, his former brother-in-law was recently found dead in his prison cell while awaiting charges related to some very sordid sex crimes, and the retired widower has subsequently come into custody of his deeply troubled goddaughter. Most men of recreation such as Hammond would surely see sudden custody of a dependent as a chore, but not Hammond.

Far from it: Theresa’s presence in the home is an opportunity. He has not seen the girl in years–not since a falling out with her father–and the truth is that although the circumstances of her arrival were less than fortunate, she’s already brought so many good things into his life. There’s the alluring and naive Grace Primrose, young Theresa’s fetching high school librarian caught in a dead-end, humdrum marriage. She could certainly use a helping hand, couldn’t she? Then there’s poor Isaac Redfern, the FBI agent responsible for Theresa’s case who seems as if he’s hovering on the verge of a nervous breakdown–increasingly paranoid about cults and psychological terrorism.

But then, of course, there is Theresa herself. Theresa, ah, Theresa–Theresa, who will be eighteen on Walpurgisnacht.

And by Satan, Dr. Harteveldt is smitten with all three of them.

YES, I WANT 10,000 EXTRA WORDS AND A PREFACE NOT SUITED TO AMAZON

NO, THE AMAZON VERSION IS ENOUGH FOR ME

HAIL SATAN! PRAISE BA’AL HAMMON! IO WALPURGISNACHT!

Pre-order the complete paperback edition of DOTTIE FOR YOU SEASON ONE!

For the first time ever, get all eight episodes of psychedelic depravity in one incredible paperback collection featuring wild cover art by artist Lauren Kolesinskas! The entire first season of Regina Watts’s horrotica DOTTIE FOR YOU–along with the two previously commercially unavailable episodes of DOTTIE AFTER DARK for the season–are available at $34.99. That’s over one thousand pages of taboo horror romance, including those two secret episodes, for a price cheaper than the season’s digital release available on Kindle. Preorder your copy today and get it in time for its Valentine’s Day 2021 release date!

ORDER DOTTIE FOR YOU SEASON ONE TODAY!

HAROLD LOVES DOTTIE. DOTTIE LOVES HAROLD. HAROLD AND DOTTIE BOTH LOVE DOLCETT.

Indulge in a flavorful billionaire love story that reads like American Psycho meets 50 Shades on a bad acid trip.

Harold Fleetwood is pathetic. Despite being the billionaire CEO of a major Fortune 500 company, he’s a divorcé in his mid-fifties who can hardly look a woman in the eye. His dark compulsions and sick fantasies fill him with shame and leave the Internet as his only outlet, not just for titillation, but for intimacy–until the day he discovers bratty Dottie Shipman, the sexiest secretary in the office, has a dirty little secret she’s been hiding.

Turns out, Dottie is as intrigued by taboo fantasies as Harold is. Not only that, but she’s the artist he’s spent countless hours fantasizing with while wasting time in his filthy-minded chat room for fellow lonely perverts. He’s terrified, and thrilled. After all these years of hiding his intense, twisted desires from everyone except the prostitutes he employs, sharing himself with this almost too-perfect woman seems like a recipe for deadly consequences from which no amount of money can save him. Luckily for Harold, Dottie’s got another secret.

An unbelievable secret.

A secret that’s destined to change everything.

Check out more about Regina at her website! And a big shout-out to editor M.F. Sullivan for her contributions to the series.

hello i love bad witches, nerdy wolfmen, and new paperbacks

What’s Halloween without some witchcraft? Sexy Sabine the Bad Witch has TWO Halloween specials available for your enjoyment as we reach the peak of every horrotica fan’s favorite holiday. In THE WITCH’S BAD SEED, join Sabine as she transforms the snotty incel sorcerer from the other side of town into a pumpkin perfect for a little bit of erotic carving with the help of the Dark Lord–and in THE WITCH’S ALPHA PLEDGE, get to know cute nerd Jeremy Zevron as he’s transformed into a werewolf upon making some very questionable decisions.

On top of that, I’m very pleased to announce the paperback release of INDUSTRIAL DIVINITY! Don’t miss your chance to snatch up a beautifully bound copy of this psychedelic splatterpunk love story, featuring exquisite abstract illustrations by cover artist, Nuno Moreira! Dottie and Sabine fans alike should really give this book a look–and so should anybody who’s interested in transgressive fiction and body horror that’s more straightforward than erotic.

Finally, let me just wish you all a Happy Halloween and thank you guys for all your support! Incredibly, next month will mark my 6 month anniversary of publishing, and it’s so gratifying to see these books starting to emerge as paperbacks. I couldn’t do any of it without the legions of loyal readers who join my mailing list, read my books and tell their friends about my horribly depraved imagination! You all mean so much to me. Have a Happy (and Healthy!) Halloween, guys!

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hello i love bratty dommes

TALE OF RHO BOOK I: DEVIL’S PLAYTHINGS is out today on Kindle! Get your copy for $6.99 or read it for free on Kindle Unlimited and enjoy a sexy paranormal reverse harem story full of ageplay, femdom, foot stuff, cannibalism, humiliation, spanking, a desperate old pervert who licks bathwater off the floor, and more libertine mayhem than you could shake a cane at. This slow-burn serialized story is in large part an homage to TALE OF GENJI, and like that famous book it is L O N G. Strap in and enjoy–you can expect one TALE OF RHO book every month/month and a half for the next half a year or so, so if you want a finished erotica serial to read right now, check out BE MY BULLY. It stars the same character, even…kind of. You’ll see what I mean once you’ve started this trippy, sexy, ultraviolent paranormal romance.

READ TALE OF RHO BOOK I TODAY!

“What are eidolons, exactly? Vampires?”

“Yes, and. Think bigger.”

“Demons?”

“Yes, and.”

“Ghosts?” Rhoda wrinkled her nose in irritation. “Faeries? Aliens? Angels?”

“Yes, yes, yes and, baby.”

DEATH IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK IT IS.

At least, it’s not what Rhoda Dendron thought it would be like–or rather, Rhoda Kingston. After the surreal events in the strange school and town of Griswald gained clarification, if not conclusion, Rhoda was ready for life to settle down. But when an entity in the guise of bad boy (well–bad older man) detective Felix Eirwen offers her an opportunity to flee mundane reality for eternal life as something called an Eidolon, she’s more than happy to explore what a new reality has to offer her…even if it means leaving certain things behind.

Not everything stays where she left it, however. There’s really no place like home: and in her new home there’s a Lulu, and even a Talbot…albeit a Talbot calling himself Emmanuel Harteveldt. Suave, calculating, and dangerously seductive, cunning libertine Dr. Harteveldt is a former OB-GYN with a lifetime full of secrets and a penchant for sadistic mindgames to rival Rhoda’s own. And he might be a little too eager to take the family’s new brat in hand for Felix’s liking.

Although he can’t really blame the old abortionist for his keen fascination with the new addition to their lineage. After all, Felix finds Rhoda pretty irresistible, himself. Especially when she calls him “Daddy.”

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hello i love debut novels: INDUSTRIAL DIVINITY is available today

that’s right: with my library of titles available on Amazon as huge as it is, INDUSTRIAL DIVINITY is still my first standalone novel of transgessive fiction. this perverse fairy tale of alienation is a must-read for fans of dottie for you and anyone who enjoys the darker fiction brought to us during the 1980s and 1990s. when a woman discovers she’s immortal but not invulnerable, she begins a career as the sadomasochistic camgirl and performance artist known as the degenetrix. i wouldn’t go so far as to say this novel of extreme horror is an erotica, but it does have some very sexual elements…especially if you’re the sort of person who likes to see a woman smash her hand with a hammer, submit to having acid poured into her brain, publicly degrade herself in a series of performances critical of shakespeare, and way way more. oh–and it’s free on kindle unlimited.

READ INDUSTRIAL DIVINITY TODAY!

A female FIGHT CLUB for a pandemic world, an ATROCITY EXHIBITION for an embittered generation of Internet addicts, a response to THE ROOM that would make even Hubert Selby Jr. cringe–INDUSTRIAL DIVINITY is a transgressive love story by 2020 breakout author REGINA WATTS.

Once upon a time lived a woman who was immortal but not invulnerable. This is the story of everything that happened after she discovered that fact. This is the story of a virus. It is the story of a country that is afraid of change. This is the story of a woman who becomes a sadomasochistic performance artist called “The Degenetrix” during a time when the human race is more isolated than ever before.

This is the story of the Degenetrix and the career she built by mutilating herself on the Internet for the pleasure of strangers, of stalkers, and of a mysterious benefactor who showers her with wealth but refuses to reveal his identity. This is the story of love during pandemic, of alienation in an alienated world. This is the story of pain and of lust and of the human mind.

But don’t worry. This is a happy story, and you are permitted to feel happy while you read it. Empathy is the greatest of all human virtues and the human race has been put on this planet called “Earth” so as to learn it.

Such is the will of spider-mother.

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hello i love filthy findom cannibal porn and medical bdsm

and if you clicked this post you must at least be curious about it. DOTTIE FOR YOU Episode 4: DOTTIE DOMESTICATED is now available on Kindle for $4.99 or FREE on KindleUnlimited! the newest novella-length episode in this steaming hot series of dolcett erotica contains one of the hottest findom scenes it has yet been my privilege to write. add some intense consensual cannibalism and a scene of medical stitches that will really bring out the sadomasochistic streak in all its readers, and baby, you have one episode of DOTTIE FOR YOU that just can’t be missed.

oh, and ps…DOTTIE FOR YOU Episode 5, DOTTIE IS DELICIOUS, isn’t supposed to be out until August 25th…but be sure to pre-order your copy, because there’s a good chance it might sneak out a week or two early. if it does, you can get it the day it comes out without even worrying about it!

READ “DOTTIE DOMESTICATED” TODAY!

Dottie, Dottie. Harold loves Dottie. Sad as it is to think that a Fortune 500 CEO can be reduced to an absolute simp for his own fresh-faced secretary, that’s the truth of it. But given the taboo proclivities both he and Dottie share, the fixation held by this capitalist pig for his immortal dream-girl is fairly understandable. The whole cannibalism thing, well, that might not be quite so much–not for the world at large, anyway. Not even suave billionaire playboy Leo Byron, Harold’s oldest business partner, could understand this side of him.

But Harold doesn’t just have to protect himself: he feels an increasing urge to protect Dottie from the world, or at least to keep her at near him. After sensual acrobatics lead to a trip to the doctor for a nice new set of stitches, Harold can only see himself taking on an increasingly caring role in Dottie’s life–which is why, when Leo sweeps in hoping to poach the pretty secretary for his new tech start-up, Harold is more determined than ever to see DOTTIE DOMESTICATED. If he can’t have her at work, he wants to savor her haunting presence at home: and the thirsty CEO would do anything to prove his devotion.

Even give the twenty-four year old little minx total control of his wallet.

AND DON’T FORGET TO PRE-ORDER DOTTIE IS DELICIOUS!

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hello i love free previews – two short chapters from INDUSTRIAL DIVINITY

Buy my debut standalone novel for $9.99 and get it the day it comes out on July 31st, 2020! If that command doesn’t convince you, then maybe these samples will.

5

By the next evening, the stranger had established her page on the video site. White, unadorned, empty of anything but her account name. Plain as her early set. After careful furniture rearrangement, she’d produced enough space to prop her budget photography screen against the kitchen/not-kitchen partition. There was even space for the lights. More adjustment made room for the camera. The barstool normally at the partition became her seat before the background. They were missing just one thing: after discussion, she took her seat with a hammer in her hand.


“Hello,” she began on his mark, but he immediately stopped the camera.


“You need more energy than that.”


“Do I?”


“Yeah. Think about those videos I showed you! These people were all super excited. You need to understand that you’re crafting a character.”


She pondered the head of the hammer. Rust lined the metal edge: the result of a leaky pipe in the last kitchen sink under which it had been stored. Time’s victim. “I’m so detached from myself. How could I come up with a character?”


“Oh, please, you’re the craziest girl I’ve ever met. You mean to say you’re not a character already?” He waved his hand at her. “Tell me what you feel about your situation. Do you like it more or dislike it more?”


“I guess I like it more. I like it a lot more than I dislike it.”


“And what do you like about it?”


“Well…” Her thumb pressed to the jagged texture of rust buildup, almost cuttingly sharp. “I guess it’s an opportunity to feel things. Things nobody else can ever feel.”


“So, you want to enjoy it—I mean, your condition. Your life.” Obviously uncomfortable with the true degree of her sadomasochism, he scratched his cheek before turning back to the camera. “Then I think that’s what you should tap into. If you want people to watch you, be excited about something. People love artists who are passionate about their art… Nobody likes a singer who’s too blasé, not for long.”


“Do people really want to see my passion for self-mutilation?”


“Just roll with it,” he said, adjusting the focus of the camera. “In three, two—”

6

The most-discussed viral phenomenon over the next few days was not the disease sweeping the globe but a surreal video of a lovely young woman in front of a white screen.


“Hi, everybody!” The woman giggled as if at herself and continued, “I’m the Degenetrix!” She introduced herself as a performance artist living in the city. Fairly close to true, or was about to be. It occurred to the woman only in the first few seconds of filming that this was a whole new medium for her. A massive shift: from making art to becoming art. The assumption of a new identity, “the Degenetrix,” a title suggested by the stranger and immediately embraced like the answer to some riddle.


This realization of new emergence was not apparent in the video’s final cut, where her image was superimposed with the familiar clip of her body smashing against a windshield. “You probably know me from the hit-and-run video that’s been making the rounds! A lot of people have wanted to know about me: Was she in shock? Is she on drugs? Is it a publicity stunt? No! I’m a real person. And what you’re about to see is real, too.”


Once the camera panned to reveal the hammer in her hand, the woman known as the Degenetrix stood up, crossed behind the stool, laid her left hand upon it, and attempted to bring the hammer down with her right.

“Ah!”


The first blow made her cry out but was not hard enough to achieve anything stupendous. The second got a knuckle and a “Fuck!” but yielded no satisfying break. “Help me,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Help me, help me, damn you—”


After the shake of the camera upon its tripod resolved to a still frame, the cameraman appeared in the scene to help her. Face obscured by the low angle so all that could be seen was his arm, the man took the hammer and repeatedly brought it to bear upon her fingers.

“Oh, God!” Her screaming pierced the apartment, and she realized at once that this would never fly—they had to get sound-dampening equipment to line her not-kitchen. This was one of a flurry of out-of-place practical thoughts—strange, spontaneous expansions of imagery the way people thought of chores during sex. In the video, she didn’t appear to be thinking about anything: only screaming, profaning, gripping her abused left hand by the wrist to keep it in place while the hammer smashed away.

The man stumbled off frame again. Viewers commented that the sound at time stamp 3:14 was likely the sound of the hammer being dropped. For about thirty seconds, the footage showed only the woman, gasping, weeping, her forehead against the edge of the barstool while she stared through tear-matted eyelashes at the pulp of her hand. Gradually, her crying calmed. The camera shook as it was removed from its tripod and the cameraman’s arc swung wide to reveal bits and pieces of an apartment, lighting equipment—no substantial wires or special effects equipment immediately visible. Only the woman, who, still collapsed against the stool, lifted her head at the camera’s approach and managed a shaky inhalation.

“This is real,” she wetly emphasized, reaching off-screen for a paper towel she used to blot blood from her bruised hand. “This is a magic trick. I’m a performance artist. But this is real.”

The camera zoomed in on her cleaned hand. Crumpled fingers snapped back into place as if the woman were a blow-up doll expanding into shape. By the time ninety seconds had passed, the woman’s hand was healed. The camera panned over the breadth of her grin, eyes bright and cheeks flushed as if by postcoital ecstasy.

“If you want to see more, be sure to like this video, leave a comment, and subscribe to the channel. See you next time!”

One last shot of her waving her broken hand: an auto-suggestion from the website’s algorithm that viewers might also enjoy this clip of a man falling from a ladder and smashing his head on his driveway.

-END OF SAMPLE-

IF YOU ENJOYED THIS, YOU MIGHT ALSO ENJOY…

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hello i love the marquis de sade: read FAMILIARITY on april 30th, 2021

i’m pleased to reveal the digital-exclusive cover of familiarity, due april 30th, 2021: that’s next walpurgisnacht for you non-occult normies out there. out of all the covers m. f. sullivan has produced for me, this one might be my favorite yet. remind you of anything? only my favorite cover for my favorite book of all time. oh and what do you know sullivan also wrote the forward too that’s very nice of her. i think it’s safe to say that if you like nabokov, libertine fiction, and my own personal sugardaddy in sin, the dark lord satan (HAIL SATAN), i guarantee you will lap up every one of the over 300,000 words in this depraved novel of transgressive fiction. pre-order your digital copy now to get it on april 30th, 2021!

oh, uh, also, if u r a sensitive sally about abortion, amputation, the long-term ramifications of child abuse, satanic rituals, CIA mind control and harassment techniques, and more, then maybe steer clear.

PRE-ORDER YOUR DIGITAL COPY OF FAMILIARITY

Coming APRIL 30th, 2021: A horrific and salacious transgressive novel from the author of INDUSTRIAL DIVINITY and DOTTIE FOR YOU, this modern mash-up of LOLITA and DANGEROUS LIAISONS is for any reader with a strong stomach who’s looking for a fresh take on the Marquis de Sade.

Libertine abortionist Dr. Hammond Harteveldt bears a charmed life, though most might not feel that way. After all, his former brother-in-law was recently found dead in his prison cell while awaiting charges related to some very sordid sex crimes, and the retired widower has subsequently come into custody of his deeply troubled goddaughter, Theresa. Most affluent men of recreation would surely see sudden custody of a dependent as a chore, but not Hammond.

Far from it: Theresa’s presence in the uncanny Harteveldt home is an opportunity. He has not seen the girl in years–not since a falling out with her father–and the truth is that although the circumstances of her arrival were less than fortunate, she’s already brought so many good things into his life. There’s the alluring and naive Grace Primrose, young Theresa’s fetching high school librarian caught in a dead-end, humdrum marriage from which her Catholic values will not permit her to extricate herself despite her sensual dreams of a more exciting life. Then there’s poor Isaac Redfern, the normally skeptical FBI agent responsible for Theresa’s case who seems as if he’s hovering on the verge of a nervous breakdownincreasingly paranoid about nonsense like ‘gangstalking’ and other purportedly CIA tactics of psychological terrorism. Comes to think Hammond’s at the head of some kind of cult something-or-other, poor old dog.

But then, of course, there is Theresa herself. Theresa, ah, Theresa–Theresa, who will be eighteen on Walpurgisnacht, and who even before then proves an eager student in her godfather’s libertine designs. She’s fascinated with Primrose and Redfern, both.

And by Satan, Dr. Harteveldt is smitten with all three of them.

hello i love fresh cannibal erotica

read dottie for you episode 3: dottie’s bodies for $4.99 or free on kindleunlimited! this novella-length episode of everybody’s favorite gynophagia erotica series is easily one of the most alarming books i’ve written to date, so don’t wait! buy your copy of dottie’s bodies today and learn the context of fun quotes like

“But please!” Gasping, doomed Dottie clung to him while he tried not to look as pleased as he felt. “Oh, I know I’m not a very good little piggie! I’m too skinny and I just don’t eat like I should, but please, please, you have to eat me—oh, it’s all I want! All I’ve ever wanted, to be eaten by you—please, please, I have no other reason to live than to be your meat! Why was I born at all if my master can’t eat me?”

Dottie’s Bodies, Dottie For You Episode 3 by Regina Watts Painted Blue Publishing (2020)

haha isn’t it fun to live on a planet where you can write sentences like that without being struck down by god? hail satan i love writing. anyway don’t miss this latest installment of dottie if you like ageplay, dolcett, guro, hot girls in cute shorts, and scathing satire of billionaire erotica in general.

READ “DOTTIE’S BODIES” TODAY!

There’s no girl on earth like Dottie Shipman. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s so sexy it hurts–oh yeah, and she’s immortal. Kind of. Dolcett aficionado and Fortune 500 CEO Harold Fleetwood can’t help but be obsessed with a girl who begs for bedroom activities a good deal more extreme than the average lover would dare think up. There’s just one problem: Dottie is Harold’s secretary, or one of them…and unfortunately for Harold, the office gossip mill doesn’t make exceptions for the boss.

They’ll have to keep their relationship a secret if Harold doesn’t want to end up the new face of workplace indiscretion. But how is such a thing possible when seeing her from across the room overwhelms Harold with increasingly unbearable compulsive thoughts? How can he compartmentalize his dark desires for Dottie’s perfect flesh and act as if he only loves her on the weekends, when they can steal away another sizzling two days at Harold’s renovated slaughterhouse in the isolated countryside?

And how can he keep the rest of the world, including but not limited to his employees, his housekeeper, and his ex-wife, from discovering his lust for the psychedelic flesh of immortal DOTTIE’S BODIES?

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