Too Groggy to Realize This Sexy Woman is My Wife | #Poem #SmutpunkPoem

Gorgeous Wife and Big Breasts

my eyes are barely open
moon hangs low nearly tapping the window
some woman’s breasts
tap against my chest hair

groggy hands caress her hair and neck
slide down her arched back
find her ass-cheeks
marvel at the roundness

sliding inside this woman
the joy of new pussy
envelopes me deeply
her breasts are wonderful

she uses her hips expertly
just how I like.
How can she know my body so well,
this stranger
cascading in the moonlight
bringing me to the edge
then backing off

leaning back
exposing her amazing tits
tight midriff

she kisses me so deeply
as I fill her with all my juice
we stay like this, kissing

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4:00 am Tryst | #smutpunkpoem #poem #LPRTG

She sleeps on the floor with the baby

I sleep on the bed

We meet in the middle of the night

Like two school kids sneaking out there windows

We meet quick strip quick

Get right to it

Cock pussy titties shaking

Am I awake or dreaming?

Shrinkage | Part 1


Shrinkage | Part 1 | Commissioned with Love by friend of SMUTPUNK BustyShrink


If you want to shrink something,
You must first allow it to expand.
If you want to get rid of something,
You must first allow it to flourish.
If you want to take something,
You must first allow it to be given.
This is called the subtle perception
Of the way things are.

The soft overcomes the hard.
The slow overcomes the fast.
Let your workings remain a mystery.
Just show people the results.

–Tao Te Ching


Shrinkage: A Story about a Vindictive Ex-Wife and Dark Scientist with plans for Revenge

Two kids on a Suburban New Jersey street made sound effects of bombs, machine gun fire, and nuclear warning sirens as they pedaled at full speed. They stood on their bikes like kids do when they want to go fast. The occasional squeak of brakes mixed the rolling sound of the rubber on road. There was a clunk that interrupted the whooping sound when one bike smacked into something. One kid was on a blue bike the other on a red and cream colored bike. The kids both kept riding. As they rode the bikes now, the tires left blood red trails on the pavement. Neither of the young boys even noticed as they kept to their game of dodging obstacles both real and imaginary. They had a grand old time, never noticing the decapitated head rolling around like a stray football, rolling irregularly as the oblong sphere thunked its way clumsily down the asphalt. The severed head smacked into a curb and came to a dead stop. The boys biked on sweating. The day was hot, too hazy and humid for this time of the fall.

In the house, Ken was tied to a…
…see this is a weird way to write a story with the reader already knowing what will happen. How then can any author create suspense? Can author deliberately mislead, like this? Ken was tied to the back of a Ferrari speeding down the highway. Ken was tied to his desk while masked intruders forced his secretary to her knees. Ken was tied for the lead in his office golf game. You already know none of these to be true. You know, since you created and requested it, that Ken was tied to a small Barbie chair. He was about one foot big and barely fit on the chair. His ex-wife Barbara sat at her regular-sized dining room table drinking wine from a normal-sized glass. She was halfway into the bottle and getting chattier. “Kenny Kenny Ken,” she said. She was getting drunk. For years she had felt alone, misunderstood, and deeply sexually unsatisfied. Ken made her feel unfuckable. That was cruel. He made her feel alone, the deep loneliness many married couples unfortunately experience. The loneliness of having someone right there yet feel more solitary than when unescorted through this cruel life, like their frequency just didn’t pick up yours, was unbearable as the lightness of being.

Ken’s ass, naked and toned, didn’t fit on the kids chair. There were two sizes of things, three if you counted the regular adult stuff. There were adult chairs full sized and one in which Barb tucked her firm ass. There was a kids chair which Ken was on, although he was too big for it. There was also a Barbie chair that Barb planned to make his perfect chair.

Barbara had started shrinking Ken post sex while he sucked on her tits in the stifling heat. After he’d come over and fucked her in the ass in his weekly sexual humiliation of ex-wife in exchange for alimony she seized his post-coital haziness and squirted him right in the face with her magic milk. Steam rose. A paper bag crumpled. She laughed when she squirted him.

It was a hot languid day, too hot for October. It was too hot to be humiliated. Too muggy to be pissed on. It was too humid to drip with shame.

She squirted him repeatedly with her breast milk.

“What is happening to me,” Ken said. He screamed out but all Barb did was laugh. Then she squirted him again. Each time she squirted him, steam rose from his head and he shrunk about one percent of his total size. She leaned over and squeezed his shrunk body between her big breasts. “Is this what you wanted? Tits?” She squirted him again. “Is this why you came back and fucked me, you dirty man? Are you just fucking helpless in the face of big tits?”


“Is that why you fucked that floral whore?” Barb taunted him while steam rose from his head and his body shrunk another one percent. “Have you no will power in the face of tits?”

Squirt. He was now small enough to lift up like a child. She put toy handcuffs on his wrists and lifted him roughly like an angry mother.

“Wine!” she said.

She brought Ken to the dining room where she had a kids chair and Barbie chair set up. She took a long gulp of red wine, then added, “Will you jizz just being in between my massive breasts, baby?”

“You had this pre-planned?” Ken said, the full fear of being at his humiliated ex-wife’s mercy unfolding like a butterfly knife in a small intestine.

Ken was in between regular- and kid-sized. The toy handcuffs kept his hands behind his back bound to the chair. Still, Bimbo Barbara had his head stuck between her massive breasts. He was about one fifth of his normal size. Her breasts could crush his small bones. His ex-wife, let him out of her cleavage. She loved her new massive bimbo tits. She stared at them happily. They gave her power and swag. She looked at her shrinking ex-husband and laughed. “You can’t fucking control yourself, can you?” she mocked. She grabbed his hard cock between her big fingers. “You’re fucking hard even though I could crush you, you pathetic little man.”

“No, yes. No.” Ken pleaded. “I just love you. I have always loved you. That’s why I’m hard!” Ken desperately tried to appease her.

She regarded him a moment and then aimed a nipple at his cock. “Disgusting. Don’t you dare fucking patronize me, Kenny!”


She hit his cock with a spray of titty-milk and steam rose from the little member’s head and it shrunk.

She finished the glass of wine. She menacingly held it out in front of him a minute. The flickering candle light reflected off the curve of the wine glass. Ken could see his ex-wife’s body in the reflection of the glass. He was so small now that his head could probably fit in the fluted wine vase now. She put down the glass and with her free hand turned him to face an even smaller toy rocking chair from part of the barbie dream house. It was on the table in front of her and next to the half-empty wine bottle. His heart sank. Why couldn’t he have pried a few extra hundreds of thousand dollars from his stack of millions for her and avoided this. He knew that a few more squirts of breast milk from his increasingly drunk ex-wife and he would be no bigger than a regular barbie doll. His ex-wife still had her blouse open and both new balloon tits hanging out distressingly over both the bra and blouse, like an Imperial Battle Cruiser hovering over an x-wing fighter. She was like a villain robbing a train and waving the gun around while talking about corrupt governments. Those magic man shrinking udders were menacing as any gunman.

“LI-AR,” Barbara screamed. She was starting to slur a bit. Spit rattled out of her mouth and sprayed over him as she screamed. Her voice came out so loud that Ken was knocked unconscious for a moment. While he was out cold on the chair, Barbara squeezed her threatening nipples gravely and bathed him in more glorious white titty milk. She smiled slightly as she heard the sound of a paper bag being crushed and watched his body shrink one more time.

She moved him from the small kids chair which was now way too big for him to the tiny doll’s chair and bound him. He started to come to again while she was tying him up with dental floss and ranting about his shortcomings.

“Why don’t you just shut your fucking mouth, Ken? Don’t you think you’ve fucked things up enough with that mouth, Kenny Ken?” Her long black hair was in a tight, bitchy ponytail that fell down her back along her spine. “You couldn’t keep that mouth off her cunt. Bad mouth!” She aimed her nipple at his mouth. “You know what that mouth didn’t do…ever? It never made me cum. Nope “ She had an improbably skinny waist for monumental tits like hers. Even a Barbie doll would be jealous of her. “Stupid fucking mouth!”

Speaking of Barbie, Ken woke up and found himself tied to a Barbie chair with dental floss nearly as thick as his fingers. It was a white rocking chair made of oak and painted. There was a pink cushion on it. At first he barely could fit in it, but after a few extra squirts of her tit milk deluge, Ken’s ass fit right into the rocking toy chair. The chair was about four inches high. He was bound and stuck. He stared up at his evil wife’s big nipple. Her nipple was now nearly the size of his entire head. His pulse raced from his tiny heart. Each Montgomery bump around Barb’s Areola was bigger than a normal sized nipple. It was disgusting. He felt nauseous. Ken remembered foods he hated as a kid. Her colossal nipple was gross as calf liver.

Months ago, Barbara caught him eating out their florist, a young attractive little thing with metallic blue hair. That led to the divorce. It wasn’t the cheating. It was that he had become such a lazy, selfish husband and lover with her. Ken made her feel like such a useless piece of shit. He didn’t talk to her, didn’t fuck her, didn’t make her feel special. She was just a maid and someone to listen to him go on and on about his acquisitions and successes at work. She no longer felt womanly. The eating out was too fuckng much. He’d replaced her sexually. And it wasn’t fair. She always knew she’d get revenge. She never knew it would be this milky sweet.

“I can explain, Barbara, I can.” Ken rocked in his tiny chair. He turned away, afraid he was going to get another squirt of his ex-wife’s breast milk but she spared him this time. His white button down office shirt was soaked with her milk. He sat in a pool of her milk. The white liquid dripped from the tiny chair placed on the heavy dark oak dining room table in their old marital house where they had once eaten many meals together, where they had once fucked like animals in the passionate old days that were long gone, where they had once carefully calculated their mortgage way back when Ken wasn’t rolling in money. Now Barbara lived in this house. She sat and stared at her tiny ex-husband. He sat on a milk-stained pink cushion. She brought out her huge finger, with large manicured nail. She placed the tip of her forefinger on the tip of his head and stopped him from rocking.

“You stay still,” she said.

At this point, a man came into the room. If Ken was his normal size he would have seen who it was, but at this size things so big came in out of focus until they came closer. As the man got closer tiny Ken in a Barbie chair could see that he wore no clothes underneath the lab coat and that this man had a bazooka for a cock.

He was wearing a white lab coat. Ken recognized the man.

Ken started to feel really hot, right on his skin. It was like the pores in his flesh were opening. Up and down his arms his tiny little hairs stood up as this man in lab coat walked up to his giant ex wife and bent down tenderly to kiss her on the neck. “Hello, baby,” the man said in a sexy baritone voice.

Barbara closed her eyes, her long lashes sloping out in thick mascara’d ski jumps, as her new man put his full red lips onto her porcelain white skin. Maybe it was his new size, maybe it was the open pores, but Ken seemed incredibly sensitive, like he could smell his ex-wife’s arousal. It smelled like orange blossoms and coconut juice.

When bazooka man was done kissing Ken’s ex-wife in the vulnerable nape of the neck, he fixed his eyes on Ken. Ken could smell Barb’s sweat. He saw here pores, big and open. Pulsing. The sweat carried pheromones with it, a delicious, intoxicating smell that Ken had never smelled from his wife before. This was the smell of Bimbo Barb not Tomboy Barbara. Andy’s kiss on Ken’s ex-wife brought out the aroma. Andy looked deep into Ken’s eyes, like he was processing the effect of the eleven and a half inch man. “How are we doing down there, little man?” he said. “I see the titty milk has operated as advertised. Mwuuhahahha!” He laughed the cliche cackle of a megalomaniac.

The man was Ken’s Chief Scientist, Andrew.

Spring 1993
Barbara stopped the car in the Parking Lot right by the NJ Transit stop. “Go get the roses for me.” Ken opened the car door obediently. “Don’t just get out. Give me a kiss first,” Barbara said. She wore a tight t-shirt that hugged her flat chest. She was bossy and boyish, but Ken did as told and gave her a peck on the lips reluctantly before going into the flower shop. “I wish you actually cared about kissing me.”

He was in there a long time. Barbara turned on the radio. She turned off the radio. She redid her lipstick. This was before cell phones. Now she would have been able to update her status, but in those days. Nothing. She fiddled with the rearview mirror. “God you’re gorgeous!” she said to herself. Then she made a face. She didn’t love the way she looked. She was too masculine. Her jaw line too hard. Her breasts too flat. Her positive reinforcement was waning with the wait.

“What the fuck is taking him so long?” she said out loud. She beeped the horn. She waited. She beeped again. “Goddamn Ken,” she said and got out of the car.

She went to the florist window. She didn’t see him inside. There were tons of Latin American weeds growing all over the place. It was a jungle inside. She walked in and Enya was playing. She passed the baby Ceiba trees, the lianas, the birds of paradise, the hydrangea. They were all plants growing around a loud, bubbling fountain. It was noisy. There were jungle sounds. There were fucking birds inside! She heard some other noises like heavy breathing. The cut flowers were in two refrigerators on the far wall across from a counter and a cash register. They were big monstrosities in those days, cash registers. There was no clerk. No Ken. There was a door to a back room.

Barbara walked into the back room. Cut flowers were everywhere in stacks of petals, thorns, stems, and colors. Enya was way louder back here. Long stem roses with big thorns on the stems were stacked up. There were thousands of them. The young florist was lying on a bed of roses with tons of little cuts in her back and hips. The hot coed looked down her massive tits. Ken was on his knees between her sprawled open legs. Her bush was a jungle and Ken had his tongue deep inside the young coed’s inner lips tasting her tropical rainforest.

Barbara gasped. The coed moaned and clamped her knees down on Ken. She started riding his face wildly while she slapped his head with a long stem red rose, throwing red petals off into the air and wandering down to the floor. The petals helicoptered beautifully in the air in little pendulums and sine waves.

Barbara slammed the car door, trembling. She was jealous, but not about Ken. It was that she wanted to be eaten out wildly. She wanted massive fucking tits. She wanted to be so womanly men would throw away mariages over her. She wanted…


Read Part 2 of Shrinkage! Be sure to be a part of MJ’s Mailing List for updates. Oh, and be sure you’re a VIP smutpunk

Brick Pig Poem

on the brick

the spray-paint drips

as the artist

shapes her breasts

like butter

on top of a pancake

lathered in syrup

like an old 80s pop song

sweet as can be

is there even a head in that bitch?


on the brick

inside are whatever families

tenements, projects,

crackheads, cheaters, rapists

and cop killers

but outside

the spray-painter

in hoodie

drips syrupy goodness

of a big juicy pair

is there even a head on the bitch?


MJ’s SmutStreet Von Bitchenstein Street Team #SmutStreet #LPRTG #Smutpunk

MJ’s SmutStreet Von Bitchenstein Street Team 


Join the SMUTPUNK4LYF Street Team!

What does a SmutStreet Punkie Do?

I’m looking for people to post on FB groups, give reviews, beta read, and generally promote me and smutpunk (and enjoy it immensely along the way — no faking!). We will chat on FB. You will help me decide on covers, what positions to include in sex scenes, and help me name alien ships like the USS Enterthighs. There will be more, but it is highly classified and on a NTK basis only.



7 Things that Cause a Nuclear Meltdown #TriangulumStain #LPRTG


This is a smutpunk style excerpt from Attack of the North Korean Giantesses (part of the Triangulum Stain Universe).

I will email later offering a chance to beta read some ARCs. However, feel free to tell me know that you’d like to see what I have so far. I’d love to share and get your thoughts.

Rumor has it that North Korean women are some of the sexiest women in the world.
FUN FACT: According to the Asian Sex Gazette, the North Korean man is the best in the world at giving cunnilingus.

Triangulum Stain Episodes:

Episode One – Pop & Lollie

Episode Two – Attack of the North Korean Giantesses


Triangulum Stain Novellas

Attack of the Replicating Alien Dildos

Battle for Alien Relish


The Partial Meltdown

The same way god built an onion in layers, the North Koreans built this nuclear reactor in layers. The layers were built as a fail safe in the event of a meltdown, but nobody expected this magnitude of human error. To have a disaster, seven errors would have to take place simultaneously. Seven areas of the protective onion shield would have to be left open. In other words, seven rare events would have to simultaneously occur. Otherwise the place was tip top.

Nuclear Meltdown


Kim Min Ho was supposed to make sure the outer shell was locked, but he was out back going for a smoke when he passed out from low sugar. He hadn’t been eating well and was experiencing bouts of colorful dots dancing in front of his eyes. This bout formed an electric eye that closed leaving him face down in the mud.



Park Jung Woo was supposed to close his section but he had written a suicide pact with his childhood friend and was planning to melt the earth. Intentionally.



Han Ji Min left his section open because Byeong Yeon, who had left his section like a gaped open asshole, was kneeling there giving him a blowjob. The complex was built in a way that leaving the section open let them both hide from the security camera so nobody would know of their homosexuality. This was the problem with years of Confucianism. Although homosexuality ran rampant, especially in the cold lonely military, it wasn’t at all accepted publicly. “I’d prefer a nuclear meltdown,” reasoned Byeong Yeon in typical staunch North Korean homophobia, “to being outed as a faggot.”



Yeong Seok Ho forgot to water the fuel rods. This was an unacceptable schoolboy error. Nuclear maintenance 101 was to feed the fuel rods their drink and keep them cool. Everybody knew that once a nuclear reactor got to hot it started to melt.



Seok Soo Jung didn’t realize the steel containment vessel had melted. It sounded an alarm, but he was listening to South Korea’s Girls Generation at Full Volume. In fact, he watched the video on his smartphone and jerked off to their shimmying childish sex appeal. That made him sleepy. The haze and the loud music made him oblivious to the alarm.



Jung Yeong Jin just didn’t monitor the radiation levels. Not everybody is so good at his job. Yeong Jin was one of those guys that should be relegated to a desk job nobody cared about without the stakes of all of humanity resting on his weak shoulders.



The reactor had very few women in the inner sanctum, another clear tactical error put in place robotically by the North Korean brass. Misogyny had real world consequences. It was similar to how American football teams relegated women media members only to the sidelines that women in North Korean nuclear power plants weren’t given positions of responsibility and security. The outside part of the reactor had many women working as secretaries. The inside was manned by men. The outside was manned by women. Quizzical. Korean culture favored men greatly. So when the radiation leaked out. The men were turned quickly into glowing green homosexual jelly and died instantaneously. It was only women wishing the first kilometer of the radiation and these women were smart enough and focused enough to act quick. Jong Eun used an emergency code to sound the sirens, red lights swirled up on high walls and a final seal was created around the plant to avoid a full meltdown. However, Jong Eun and her seven cohorts were zapped with heavy doses of radiation. Enough to kill them ten times over.

However, the women manning the desks didn’t die.

The secretaries walked out the doors to the train station. On the platform, they peacefully waited for the train.




“I’d prefer a nuclear meltdown,” reasoned Byeong Yeon with typical staunch North Korean homophobia, to being outed as a faggot.”


This is an Indonesia Police Officer. I’m trying to find a good photos of a hot North Korean military officer. Their outfits are awesome but hard to find on the internet.

Found some:

Democratic People’s Republic of Korea Soldier

(091001) — BEIJING, Oct. 1, 2009 (Xinhua) — Militiawomen attending the celebrations for the 60th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China, rehearse on the Tian’anmen Square in central Beijing, capital of China, Oct. 1, 2009. (Xinhua/Zhang Yanhui) (lyi)



Bullshit Bullpen No. 12 – Big Heavy Balls Ready to Drop Bombs #LPRTG #SMUTPUNK


Bullshit Bulletin Number 12



Bullshit Bullpen

This holiday time of year is crazy at my work, so I often lose touch with writing life. I hope it hasn’t been way too long since I’ve written a bullshit bullpen bulletin. We believe this is #11, no #12, but I won’t bet my life on that. If the count is wrong, fuck it. It’s not like I’m dealing drugs. I don’t have to be any more accurate than an American Politician at the microphone. Some exciting things have come into focus since the last bullpen edition. We have a fully functioning SmutStreet Luvies Street Team, which is incredibly exciting (named by the genius genevieve green whose genius is only surpassed by her gorgeous body). We also have a Smutpunk Erotica Collab out and I’m part of Miss-Taken Identities, an anthology that has a little fun with the cracks in gender identity. Miss-Taken also features Reed (James), Sally (Bend), Kella (Driehl), Lyka (Bloom),  Kylie (Gable),‎ Claudia (Acosta),‎ and Mindi (Harris).cum-on-tits

Check out the Smutpunk Erotica Collab! It features stories from a variety of authors. See more below. Speaking of anthologies, check out the new one focused on gender-bending:

Miss-Taken Identities edited by the amazing transgender authority Sally Bend is out to great acclaim.

The anthology contains a star-studded lineup and then me.

I don’t know how I finagled my brown way into this book, but there I am am big Latino dick and construction crew going awry. 

It’s pretty damn hot and I’m glad I’m in. 

See for yourself as I take a step into the wonderful world of gender-bending (without the futanari aspects I usually throw in).

There are amazing stories from Reed James, Kella Z. Driehl, etc etc etc. 

Sex Tip – Pooning

Sex Tip – Cum Snorting

Plug for Emme’s Book:

“I’m going for a skate, honey. Yes, past my ex-boyfriend’s bank. Yep, in this short short skirt with no underwear on. Get ready to clean me up when I’m back.”

Smutpunk on Skates, an #AsianErotica #Cuckold Tale


This paragraph is designed for one purpose: TO DRUM UP BUZZ for MJ’s Chronicles 5 and Subscription (99¢ p/month sale)! I have to kill the 69¢ per month for a subscription. It’s too cheap! Readers, take advantage of the legendary laziness of MJ and subscribe for 69¢. The subscription is my version of Patreon. Imagine getting the unique, creative labyrinth that is the SMUTPUNK UNIVERSE FOR ONLY SIXTY-NINE. 




You’ll see that the slider has a new advertisement. The sidebars are for sale for adverts, too. Learn more about SERVICES FOR WRITERS.




Get a SMUTPUNK subscription, if you’re brave enough

Images are one of the things that makes the site different than other erotica writer’s sites. The images span from psychedelic porn to hentai aliens to hot Asian chicks with long legs. You can enjoy the smutpunk gallery (uncensored VIP Smutpunk Gallery) at any time. Believe it or not, this is the number one most clicked image on this site All-Time.

This is a close second:




So please enjoy the stream of images on this site


Click the Bottle that Looks Suspiciously Like a Dick if you’re behind her banging her Doggy Style if you want to Fall in Love with a Korean Chick (or any chick).


sexy-korean intense-diets-of-kpop-stars

Get Your Very Own Korean-style K-pop Star Diet


What’s your SMUTPUNK name?

If you don’t know GET ONE ASAP.
After you get it, please let me know what it is in the comments. Thanks!

The following is a Pinterest Pin Promotion for Triangulum Stain 1 – Attack of the Replicating Alien Dildo


Answer: This is smutpunk.

No, No, this is smutpunk.

Are you crazy? THIS is smutpunk. 

FUCK THAT. Everybody knows this is smutpunk

True smutpunk4lyf motherfuckers know this is smutpunk. 


I need your help

I need you to press this link (while signed in to your twitter) and invite your people to join the LPRTG mailing list! The list offers freebies, news about smutpunk and other erotica, links to giveaways, contest, quizzes, and more.

Press this link to invite your followers to learn more about how to pleasure herself and her partner. Yum!


Got something important to add to the next bulletin?

Let me know. I’m looking for some guest posts, news, and contests to share with smutpunks.

I’m always around. Email, comment, tweet, or stop me on the street (grabbing me by the balls is the best way to get my wandering attention).

‘Nuff said, said San Esperma di Desgracia


Bullshit Bullpen No. 12

I’d like to start things off with a silly little rhymed poem:


Pirate’s Booty Verse

This Treasure Hunt unearthed a Chick Tied to the Booty

Buck naked, so I entered her Cunt

Clearly I wasn’t First to Grab this Cum-Drippy Cutey

Loose From the Action Up Front

this one got Bukkaked Good

a Cum Beret like a Goo Mop Trade Would


Still, the Skank had A Phat Asian Ass

As I fucked her she spoke real crass

She said the Blacks say Booty

Asian PAAGs say Whooty

I say they can all choke on Nerve Gas!




According to sophisticated Internet Searches and Reddit Forums,
having Chun-Li on her knees or doused in baby gravy
will get your site to #1 on google rankings. Is it working?


cum on titties for Dick N. (plz give me more cum on titties!)


Six Smutpunk Stories in one Awesome SMUTPUNK COLLABORATION (an anthology)!

by six bestselling authors. This 38,000-word anthology features Agent Joystick by Bella Shadows, Futanari Roomate Situation by Kella Z. Driel, Driving Stick by Roxy Katt, Dino-Sore by Moctezuma Johnson, and The Return of Roo by Lucian Carter.

Get punked!

The world’s first ever anthology of smutpunk erotica collects six sexy stories from half a dozen twisted authors and slaps them into your hot little hands, absolutely free!

What is smutpunk? Think cyberpunk, add a dollop of spunk, a bit of punk, and a squirt of love potion sixty-nine—and you get the idea! It’s filthy, no-holds barred, all-out erotic wrestling contest—and you’ve got front-row seats:

Feast on the following free sexy beasts:

Agent Joystick by Bella Shadows: An old man laments his initiation as a government assassin, a protein-stealing lady-mech does her nasty deeds, and History is to thank for it all. Agent Joystick details his sextale, from baited hook to sinker.

(Not Quite) Milked by the Yeti by Callie Press: Brendalee Elkins finds that some nekkid pictures of her hawt body have been leakin’ all over the internets. She come right to get them and restore her honor but a Yeti gets in her way.

Futanari Roommate Situation by Kella Z. Driel: Alistair is your typical, diffident British chap, studying at Neo-Tokyo University. Uh-oh! He’s been assigned a futanari roommate! She’s gorgeous, throbbing and keeps undressing in front of him! How long can he keep a stiff upper lip?

The Return of Roo by Lucian Carter: You don’t really belong here. This is a dangerous place. A scary place. Predators lurk here, eager for new prey. This… is #coverthypnotism! Witness the cyber trances of HypnoDom Lucian Carter, and feed your fetish, or find a new one.

Dino-sore by Moctezuma Johnson: Miss Park is a Korean scientist trapped as a housewife until she braves flying to a small island in Latin America where she unearths something big, warm, and throbbing. Magic on the island is making everything bigger. Will she be able to handle it?

Driving Stick by Roxy Katt: In a diesel punk world, one sedate housewife inexplicably grows male genitals. What does she do? Squeeze into a shiny, black rubber uniform and become a chauffeuse of course. But sometimes those without the gear shift do the driving.

What are you waiting for? IT’S FREE SMUT! cum-on-tits Everybody loves to get free smut.


Look for Andrew Liebling in MJ’s next piece. Will he be a North Korean spy doctor checking new female recruits to see if they’re virgins. Will he be Dr. Engle’s assistant cooking up magic FUTA potions? Stay tuned and find out how he gets in the mix.


Specials and Flashing

So, there are some XXXmas Specials including 35% off with a valid coupon code.

Also look out for Flash Sales. When you see the naked tits on the homepage.

They’re on. 

In other words, clothes off means sale’s on.


This Site and it’s “benefits”

Yes, I know you adore your friends with benefits. Think of this site as one of them. Since 2017 selling smutpunk directly to readers has been the rise. More and more people are buying directly from this site via paypal. It’s a great way for the reader to pay less for smutpunk books while the authors get the majority of profit. It’s win win for both author and reader. Do take advantage. Visit the Book Shop and find titles that interest you. There is also, of course, a subscription available.



Be sure to see the new services for writers. You’ll notice the lovely Shelby Kent-Stewart was able to strike while the iron wasn’t yet unwrapped and procure herself a nice ad spot on the main slider of this website.

See the side bar for more information.


InstaFreebie Event 2018

Get Your Book on the Smutpunk InstaFreebie Giveaway. We were getting over 1000 hits per day last time. We should be able to blow that out of the water. Sign up here.

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Dicksucking Skillz Assesment and Evaluation Form

I highly recommend getting your score. If you score high, kudos! But if you however are not in the top twenty percentile, then I suggest you get yourself a copy of the Sex Manual and start your studies.




Shelby Kent-Stewart


Click the Sign to Follow Shelby on Twitter

I have great respect for the women who continually fight for change. Please friend Shelby Kent-Stewart on twitter if you’d like to contribute to making a difference. Tell her “I am the dragon” and she’ll know MJ sent you. Also, look at her beautiful book covers. I highly suggest you read them. They don’t get sparkling 5-star reviews for nothing.


Click any of the book covers to learn more about this political activist and contemporary erotica writer.


Miscellaneous images
(some have links and some don’t. Click at your own risk)


Hello, Dali by Dave


A new post of SMUTPUNK ART will be on display soon. Check back soon and inquire within if you’d like to submit something. 

Choose Your Own Kink SEXcapade

What's with the feet?

What’s with the feet? Click the heels to buy the book!

This one is about you. And, HOT DAMN, are you sexy and up to your ears in pussy and problems. There’s chocolate sauce, there’s custard, there are bicycles handles in assholes, there are synapses soaked with dopamine, there is romance, a virgin touched by Allah, a hooker (well, they say she’s a hooker), and a cameraman in a Darth Vader mask telling you the intricacies of Gorilla Glue. Yep, there’s a hell of a lot of stuff, but YOU pick which option you want because this is a CHOOSE YOUR OWN KINK. That’s right! See the hot girls in pink over there? Click them to buy this amazing new pulpy erotic smutpunk.

Also, please leave a review. Even if you just write a word or “it was good!” I will be eternally grateful. Reviews rock! Reviewers rock! Rimmies rimmies!



Polls are always fun, aren’t they? This site has some MUST ANSWER polls and I am doing monthly polls in conjunction with Linzi’s Angels (formerly known as Linzi’s Lair). This month’s poll is the Dicksucking Skillz Assessment Quiz.

This site has its own polls, which are added to regularly. Enjoy!




SMUTPUNK eats pussy all night. And sometimes in the morning.


Butterface | the character #LPRTG #smutpunk @CalliePress @smutpunk_author



See where the Character Butterface (and the book) has turned up over the years. Please leave any additions in the comments and someone will add it in. 

Butterface first appeared in the novel by the same title written by Callie Press. She was an homage to the Cthulhu legend of Narlyathotep, the swirling chaos created by H.P. Lovecraft. She was a legend boys told around Halloween about a gorgeous woman who would seduce you to steal your semen for universe building. Sex with her sealed your doom. Later Moctezuma Johnson has his heroine face her in an epic clash while the Five Hive is on Alien Relish to restore lust and procreation to the universe.


Princess Chuckhole v. Butterface

Butterface by Callie Press (reviewed by Moctezuma Johnson)

Butterface in Smutpunk Gallery

Butterface in Smutpunk Dictionary

Butterface in Battle for Alien Relish by Moctezuma Johnson