Monthly Archives: February 2015

Curves and Sex Pills

Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and feature intensely erotic situations, alpha males and BBWs, multiple partners, public sex and humiliation, hazing, medical examinations, the use of potent aphrodisiacs, exhibitionist themes, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Curves and Sex Pills contains three fun, sexy stories of BBW bimbofication, menage, and public exhibition:

Horny Pill for the Curvy Girl

Sandra Malke has had a tough week rushing the Phi Gamma sorority: following instructions that range from unpleasant to outright humiliating, but she’s made it this far and wouldn’t dream of giving up now. That is, until she hears what her final assignment is going to be. Apparently she’s managed to piss off the chapter president, and in return her final afternoon of rush week is going to be an intense one. But does it have to be with two fraternity brothers she’s never met, and in public? And do the sisters have to give her a pharmaceutical-grade aphrodisiac to be sure she’ll go through with it? It all sounds a bit excessive, but deep down she probably can’t deny she finds the prospect a little thrilling, too.

The Doctor Prefers Curves

Between a tough job and tougher grad school classes, Rachel McAlister is being stretched to the limit. What she really needs is something to help her let go and unwind, and her doctor has just the stress relief medication. Its only drawback is a certain rare side effect in individuals with a lot of latent sexual tension, though Rachel is quick to deny to her handsome young doctor that this could be a concern for her.

But when he issues her the drug and keeps the voluptuous young woman in his exam room for monitoring, the truth is bound to be unleashed before long.

Busty for the Billionaire

Sasha’s four years in college were supposed to prepare her for bigger and better things, but working for a man like Elliot Cheever takes all the sting out of being a secretary. He may already be one of the city’s most powerful men at the young age of 34, but he’s so approachable and friendly with his newest employee that she can’t help but sometimes think about more than a work relationship.

Trying to look good for her boss, she’s bought herself a beauty supplement that promises more than just good skin. But when the supplement turns out to have some “additional properties,” new hormones give Sasha the curves she’s always wanted and kick her fantasy of seduction into sudden overdrive.

Before she’s had time to think, she’s flaunting her new attitude and assets through the office in ways that Mr. Cheever and the other partners accustomed to the firm’s stuffy work environment can’t help but notice … and act on. It’s not long before the fertile but inexperienced young woman is getting all the attention she can handle, and more.

Notice: These titles include themes and passages that have been adapted from the works of Jessica Whitethread with full consent of the original author.


Find it exclusively on Amazon.

Busty for the Billionaire

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, a billionaire alpha male and his young BBW secretary, multiple partners, group sex, exhibitionist themes, the use of potent aphrodisiacs, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Sasha’s four years in college were supposed to prepare her for bigger and better things, but working for a man like Elliot Cheever takes all the sting out of being a secretary. He may already be one of the city’s most powerful men at the young age of 34, but he’s so approachable and friendly with his newest employee that she can’t help but sometimes think about more than a work relationship.

Trying to look good for her boss, she’s bought herself a beauty supplement that promises more than just good skin. But when the supplement turns out to have some “additional properties,” new hormones give Sasha the curves she’s always wanted and kick her fantasy of seduction into sudden overdrive.

Before she’s had time to think, she’s flaunting her new attitude and assets through the office in ways that Mr. Cheever and the other partners accustomed to the firm’s stuffy work environment can’t help but notice … and act on. It’s not long before the fertile but inexperienced young woman is getting all the attention she can handle, and more.

Excerpt:

I shifted over to stand in front of the reflective metallic panel that held the floor number keypad and bent down to make sure I looked alright. It must have been the slightly distorted shape of the panel, but the changes I had observed earlier in the morning seemed, if anything, to have increased.

Also , my nipples were poking out very obviously through the thin cloth of my blouse. Good lord, had I looked like that this whole time? My body clenched in delicious embarrassment as I realized after the fact just why my appearance had made such an impression on my new friend John. I had never been dressed so inappropriately in public in my life, let alone in the middle of the financial sector in the middle of a work day.

I rubbed at the offending nipples. Oh God did that feel good, but it did the exact opposite of the desired effect. Between the tightness of the fabric and the prominence of my nipples I sort of looked like a girl in a wet t-shirt contest. I giggled a little, remembering I had once thought about entering one of those back in college but never came close to mustering the courage.

For whatever reason, it didn’t seem to occur to me that looking like that in a nightclub during spring break was a little different from showing up for work as a secretary on the forty-fifth floor. Nothing could lessen my good mood.

I removed the key from my purse that authorized the elevator to go beyond the public floors, and in another thirty seconds I watched the doors open on the familiar lobby that I presided over.

I tiptoed out of the elevator and peeked across at the blind-obscured windows of his office. The light was on. I sighed, accepting my status of comparative incompetence with resignation. He could fly to Washington, speak at a conference, fly home, and be back at work before I could snap a bra on and drive seventeen blocks. Actually, I had only managed half of those things. Who knew why he put up with me?

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s Bimbo at Work with full consent of the original author.


Find it exclusively on Amazon.

The Doctor Prefers Curves

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, alpha males and BBWs, multiple partners, medical examinations, public group sex, the use of potent aphrodisiacs, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Between a tough job and tougher grad school classes, Rachel McAlister is being stretched to the limit. What she really needs is something to help her let go and unwind, and her doctor has just the stress relief medication. Its only drawback is a certain rare side effect in individuals with a lot of latent sexual tension, though Rachel is quick to deny to her handsome young doctor that this could be a concern for her.

But when he issues her the drug and keeps the voluptuous young woman in his exam room for monitoring, the truth is bound to be unleashed before long.

Excerpt:

His voice stopped me, understanding but firm. “Try to focus, Rachel. I understand the drug can be a little disorienting, but try to remember why we’re here. You came in because you were having trouble with -”

“Oh, I remember now, Dr. Peterson. I’m sorry. Yes, I really am feeling a lot better. In fact, it’s hard to even remember what had me so worked up in the first place.”

“That’s good,” he said, scribbling something. “That’s very good. And what about the other issues we talked about?”

“Oh,” I said, having forgotten for a moment the source of my previous anxiety. “I – uh, I’m sure there isn’t anything to worry about.”

“Well lie back,” he said. “I need to take your blood pressure.”

Compliantly, I flopped back onto the exam table. My legs splayed open lazily and for a moment I worried that my gown had hiked up to show more than I meant to. But it felt so good just to lie there that I really couldn’t find it in myself to check.

Dr. Peterson came over next to me. I saw his eyes flick over my body and caught a momentary gleam of desire in those dark, alluring eyes.

“Is my p**** showing, Dr. Peterson?” I asked lazily.

“It is, as a matter of fact,” he said, putting a hand to my forehead and writing something down. “You know we don’t require patients to remove their underwear when we have them change, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Peterson. I don’t mean to be improper. It’s just that I wasn’t wearing any panties today. Isn’t that silly? I completely forgot to wear panties.”

“That’s quite alright,” he said, removing his hand from my forehead.

I closed my eyes again. The drug’s effects were getting stronger, and there was definitely something sexual about the way I was feeling. I liked talking about my p**** with him. I liked him looking at it.

“Why don’t I give you a quick once-over?” he suggested. “While we’ve got you down here anyways.”

“Of course, doctor,” I agreed, spreading my legs wider for him.

He put his hand on the side of my throat, feeling at my pulse. His fingers were gentle and strong and my skin felt hot and very sensitive to his touch. Everything felt good, but especially him. “Body temperature seems stable, and pulse normal,” he said, scribbling.

“You know I really like when you touch me, Dr. Peterson. You should do it more.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said distractedly as he continued the exam. His hands made deft, knowing little movements down my body. Each one sent a shiver of pleasure up through me.

He prodded several times at my upper stomach and then moved lower. It wasn’t until I felt his fingers on my bare skin that I realized how much of myself I was showing. He hadn’t just caught a glimpse; the entire lower half of my body below my navel was bared and in view. I wriggled in a naughty sort of glee.

“Try to hold still, Rachel,” he chided.

“Sorry, Dr. Peterson,” I apologized.

Notice: This title includes themes and passages that have been adapted from Jessica Whitethread’s Bimbo Side Effects with full consent of the original author.


Find it exclusively on Amazon.