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Imagine the Next Hit Erotic Novel And Win 50 Shades-Themed Toys

7

by thepleasurechest

selena gomez reads 50 shades

Update: Congratulations to Savvy, whose novel, Fifty Shades of Spray, was the popular favorite among the Pleasure Chest staff. A big thank you to everyone who entered! We hope that each and every one of your novels becomes a smash hit and makes you billions of dollars.

To celebrate National Novel Writing Month, we’re giving away a collection of 50 Shades of Grey-themed toys, for you and the tortured billionaire and/or nervous naif in your life. The winner will receive a Submit to Me Beginner’s Bondage Kit (which includes a blindfold, restraints, and a fetching gray paddle), an Insatiable Desire Mini G-Spot Vibrator, a Yours and Mine Vibrating Love Ring, a Candy Jawbreaker Gag, a Fun Factory Smartballs Tenuo Uno kegel ball, and two packets of On Natural Arousal Gel for Her.

Want to Win? Here’s how.

We want you to tell us about the next erotic novel that will top the bestseller lists! In the comments below, write the title and the first line of an erotic novel of your own invention. For example:

In Eighty Lays
“It was the day of the big race, and Dirk Feremone, rakish darling of the world of competitive hot air ballooning, was flying high.”

We encourage you to a) make us laugh or b) make us want to buy your book. If we laugh and then want to buy it, so much the better. A winner will be chosen on Wednesday, November 6th at noon, PST.

U.S. residents only. 

7 Comments

  • L B

    Breeding Horatio
    “Don’t be silly your highness– men can’t get pregnant!”

    ReplyNovember 1, 2013 at 2:34 pm

  • Tremulous Noir

    Title: Winter Is Coming

    Excerpt: Winter could see the shaking in her fingers, tremulous with unadulterated gratitude, as she reached out to caress the frigid skin of her long-lost lover. His eyes were wild and his lips were bloodless and she had never thought to see him return. She would revive ever inch of him with her lips, stroke his cock to life with her tongue.

    Before she could make a single movement she saw his ferocious eyes take in the bundle in her arms.

    “Is that…?” He crept closer to inspect the now-mewling child, and his eyes went cold.
    “Well,” he sneered, “if it isn’t a little bastard. Winter’s bastard, you must be.”

    Winter’s mouth went try. How could she tell her lover that the babe was his, after he turned so violently and easily against her, after she had waited all this time? age was blinding and speech was impossible.

    In his half-frozen state it was easy for Winter to bring him to his knees by only her hand ’round his throat.

    “Yes, my bastard, once your son. Yes, yours. And you will spend the remainder of the eve on your knees, your tongue buried in my cunt, if you wish to ever reclaim your right to him.”

    She felt the beginnings of twin satisfactions as he tilted his chin up to press his face into her flesh.”

    ReplyNovember 1, 2013 at 2:52 pm

  • Green Shade

    Banjos in the Corn Field:

    Ellie mopped the sweat from her brow as she raised herself up, her basket brimming to overflowing with freshly picked cobs of corn. Her rich auburn hair shone in the fading sunlight, and her firm, tanned skin glistened with a healthy sweat in the late summer heat. As she hefted up the basket, the tensing of the muscles of her arms was clear under her taut, young skin, and she groaned gently with the exertion of lifting.
    She was acutely aware of the stiffening of her nipples beneath her coarse flannel shirt…

    ReplyNovember 2, 2013 at 12:20 am

  • Lisa

    Title: Why Doesn’t This Happen to Me in Real Life?

    She was wearing a mini skirt that could double for a tube top, a sheer blouse, 6 inch heels and makeup that looked like it had been applied by the hand of Renoir. He slowly backed her against the wall…whispering filthy things into her ear, licking her neck, kissing her gently. Looking right into her eyes, he said “You look like a fucking whore” to which she replied “Then why don’t you treat me like one?” He slowly began his descent down her body, licking and kissing every inch, and stopped when he got to her…

    ReplyNovember 4, 2013 at 2:44 pm

  • Savvy

    Fifty Shades of Spray

    “I’ve been waiting for you,” Thaddeus Cockington whispered sexily from the bushes. “I tracked your phone so I could show up here at your house and surprise you with a D/s relationship contract. You seem too naive to read the warning signs of abuse, and that really turns me–”

    But he could not finish this sexy sentence, because he was choking on the pepper spray Elizabeth Thorne had wisely carried with her.

    ReplyNovember 4, 2013 at 5:32 pm

  • Matt

    The Humpit: Or In and Out Again

    In the bottom of the humpit there was a hole, not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a humpit-hole, and that means comfort.

    ReplyNovember 4, 2013 at 6:56 pm

  • Vivian Darkbloom

    The Buttergirth Cleft

    Charles Buttergirth had awoken that morning in his usual manner–sweatily ensconced in a pile of slick bodies that were still quivering from last night’s exertions–but after extricating himself from the heaving mass of slaked companions and pirouetting to the loo, he was greeted by a sinktop mirror bearing a most unexpected and shocking gift: his chin dimple, the swoon-inducing marvel around which Buttergirth’s very essence revolved, had turned into a penis.

    ReplyNovember 6, 2013 at 9:38 am

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