Swann CH15 p1–57 Now Available

Tits bound and ready. 🪢🍒

Sample:

Hoyt untangled the first leather circle and lined it up with her right breast—the fuller one, still decorated with a thick streak of possum grease glistening across the top. The strap looked too small for her substantial bust, designed for a woman with less generous proportions. This would require force, compression, discomfort—exactly what these bastards wanted.

“Fuck,” he breathed, close enough now that his exhalation ghosted across her nipple. “They’re even bigger up close.”

His bony, dirt-caked fingers clamped onto her breast, cold and clammy against her warm flesh. Kayla hated the visual contrast—those pasty white hands all over her rich brown skin, claiming territory never meant for their kind.

She almost bit clean through the mass of braids stuffed between her teeth. This pathetic excuse for a man fondled her like she was some training dummy built for his sex education. The professional Officer Kayla Price would have ended this nonsense with a precise strike to his solar plexus, followed by a knee to the groin that would keep him singing soprano for weeks—

Collar Fitted🛟

Sample:

Eames set the shotgun aside, propping it against the kitchen counter. From the tangle of leather and hardware still resting in a heap on the floor, he extracted what appeared to be the most significant component of the harness system.

The collar.

“This here’s gonna remind everyone exactly what you are,” he said, turning to face her with the collar held open. “An owned woman. Property of this farm.”

Kayla’s stomach dropped as she got her first clear look at the thing that would encircle her throat. The band measured at least three inches in height—wider, heavier, more imposing than any dog collar Kayla had ever seen during her years on the force. She’d encountered plenty of animal control situations, witnessed the restraints used on the most dangerous breeds, but this dwarfed them all.

Heavy metal hardware gleamed along its length: buckles, rings, attachment points that spoke of serious restraint rather than decorative bondage. The massive D-ring at the front was large enough to accommodate a thick chain, the kind used to secure dangerous animals.

The leather itself was dyed the same deep, arterial red as the rest of the harness, and showed similar signs of previous use—subtle discolorations and wear patterns from other women who had worn this same device. How many necks had it encircled? How many proud heads had it forced into submission? She could only imagine the accumulation of sweat and tears that had soaked into the material over months or years of use. Her own throat tightened in anticipation as Eames approached.

Dildo Seasoned and Stuffed 🍆

Sample:

“I’ll need lubrication,” she said, the words emerging flat. “A lot of it. That thing will tear me apart dry.”

The admission was surrender disguised as negotiation, her final attempt to maintain some illusion of control over the process.

“Hoyt, be a good lad and go get the kitchen grease,” Eames said, nodding toward the stove. “That stuff should slick her up good so that big boy slides in smooth.”

What? They’re gonna lube me up with fucking cooking grease? This was beyond anything she’d imagined, treating her body like a piece of farm equipment needing maintenance.

Hoyt jumped to fetch a mason jar from beside the stove, unscrewing the lid to reveal a thick layer of yellowish fat and meat drippings dotted with black specks that might have been pepper. The stuff reeked of rancid pork and burnt aromatics, a nauseating combination that made Kayla’s stomach lurch just from the smell.

Next: bridle. 🐴

Last, a surprise. 🎊

(The PDF is in the Tier 3 Swann collection)