review: Comfort in Your Arms

Never have I been more glad that the cover art did not reflect the specific plot of a book.


Title: Comfort in Your Arms

Author: Salty Salmon

WhatWhat: Bernie and Obama comfort each other after the election.

Money Quotes:

Bernie nodded, swallowing thickly. “Hillary should have won.”

“No,” Barack replied, reaching out and wiping a single tear from Bernie’s cheek. “You should have won.” (loc 5)

Okay, I just laughed out loud. Nice deployment of romantic cliches in a hilariously-inappropriate setting, author. Well done.

“Where are you taking me?” Bernie asked. A laugh escaped Barack, like a gorilla escaping at the zoo. (loc 8)

Cannot tell if Harambe reference or unreconstructed racism.

Fairy lights twinkled around the edges of the room, giving the whole area an iridescent glow much akin to the fairy-lit glow of a shitty YouTuber’s bedroom,… (loc 15)

Laughing again. I’m inclined to call “Harambe shout-out” on that last quote now, just because of this one.

“I’m fifty shades of socialist, Bernie.” (loc 19)

“Do you have any tingly lube?” a saucy smile overtook Bernie’s kind, wrinkled face as he spoke. “I love a little extra — That’s why I agree with having a strong benefits system.” (loc 29)

I think that uncapitalized “a” is the only SPAG error I saw in this whole thing. No, I tell a lie: there’s one tense shift when Bernie is opening his mouth later on. But mostly this is well-edited.

It didn’t take long for Bernie’s red, swollen junk to spill its seed all over Barack’s hand, his eyes rolling back into his head as he came. (loc 60)

Verdict: Credit where it’s due: I’m now completely over the trauma of the Paul Ryan erotica, and dealing with this fresh new trauma. So that’s something, I guess.

It was entertaining, though. I may be rocking back and forth in a fetal position, but I’m laughing quietly as I do so.

review: Paul Ryan: Spanker of the House

I read this title (literally just the title) out loud to someone and they said, “That doesn’t sound too bad.” I think I’ve corrupted my social circle by exposing them to second-hand erotica. Because how? HOW does that not sound too bad?


Title: Paul Ryan: Spanker of the House

Author: V. L. Vance

WhatWhat: Okay, so: Paul Ryan has just replaced John Boehner as Speaker of the House, and Boehner has to deliver the customary blow job (I’m assuming this doesn’t actually happen in American politics; correct me if I’m wrong). But Ryan takes it a step farther and administers a spanking and a humiliating display, then later picks up some governor’s nephew for sex.

Money Quotes:

The buttons of his shirt were open, peeled open by the nimble fingers of John Boehner. John sat between Paul’s muscular legs, his fingers sliding up his thighs. Paul’s pants were around his ankles, but his large cock, clearly visible as it snaked its way across his thigh,…(loc 19)

You know, you could back away now and save yourself, reader. It’s too late for me, but you could walk away now before any further images of Paul Ryan’s member are seared across your memory.

“Not as sad as I am to see it pass to someone who’s never had a job in the private sector,” John said sadly, his fingers slipping beneath Paul’s briefs and gently brushing the side of his throbbing meat. (loc 23)

I laughed out loud at that, but it was partly hysteria. The pillow talk in this is truly amazing, though.

Paul was such an alpha that even the men of the House were thrilled into sexual servitude by his raw masculinity. (loc 47)

Paul. Ryan. Okay, I just….let’s just keep going.

“Come on,” Paul said. “You’re a grown man. You back down to liberals like you’re a little girl, but the least you could do is show me some dignity and take a spanking like a man. (loc 67)


“You ready to get bred?” Paul asked, raising his eyebrows again. “You ready to take the seed of a Republican hero?”

“Give it to me!” Max cried, pulling Paul in closer to him. “Please, sir, give me your patriotic seed!” (loc 393)

It would be utterly hilarious to scream “Give me your patriotic seed!” during sex, but I seriously think my husband would have me committed immediately afterwards.

Someone else try it and report back what happens.

Verdict: This was hilarious (and grammatically sound), but I’m headed straight for the liquor cabinet now, and I’m staying there.


review: Harambe Clinton vs Donald Trump

Good evening, world. Ready for some political commentary in the form of gorilla erotica? No? Me either, yet here we are.


Title: Dicks Out for Harambe 2: Harambe Clinton vs Donald Trump

Author: Richard Stroker

WhatWhat: When last we saw Harambe he was dead of a gunshot wound, which you’d think would prevent sequels, but no. Turns out Harambe faked his death, and now he’s back, and just in time to stand in for Hillary Clinton and win the election. You can read that last sentence as many times as you want and it’s still not going to help.

Money Quotes:

Harambe the gorilla readjusted his sun hat while sitting at the bar of the beach side hotel he was staying at. He sipped his banana flavored daiquiri thoughtfully. Had it really been four months already? Four months ago, on May 28th 2016, Harambe the gorilla had faked his own death. (loc 173)

We all kind of wish that was true.

Three hours later Harambe had received a complete make over. Harambe’s lucious dark hair had been bleached to look like Hillary’s blonde locks. He had also received a full set of Hillary-esque suits and a quick rundown of her most used catch phrases and mannerisms. (loc 202)

I can see how some readers could find this funny, but I’m not sure how it’s going to lead to erotic situations.

“Wow Hillary! A few days ago you looked like death. Today… Well today you look like a completely different woman!” Bill’s hand slid down Harambe’s waist and rested teasingly on his ample buttocks. Harambe blinked in surprise. (loc 214)

Oh God no.

Bill moved closer and took one of Harambe’s large hands in his own. “Wow Hillary, I never noticed how large and cigar-like your fingers are. You know how much cigars turn me on!” (loc 220)

And now I’m probably going to hell for laughing at that.

Later that night Harambe wept in bed. He knew Trump was a fascist beast but he couldn’t help but find the man the personification of sexualized perfection. (loc 266)

Verdict: You know you’re reading something special when the gorilla sex is the least horrifying aspect of the thing. Also, there’s nothing like having to explain what you’re laughing at when it’s this. It’s twisted, but it IS funny. I’ll leave you unspoiled as to what happens with Donald Trump and who wins the election.


review: Harambe the Gorilla: Dicks Out for Harambe

I think for this first week back online since the 2016 election, I’m going to try to clear a lot of the political erotica off my kindle. You would not believe the backlog of improbable stuff I downloaded and then didn’t get a chance to review.

To keep everyone from curling up in the fetal position I’ll try to intersperse that with some soothing abdl stories or something.


Title: Harambe the Gorilla: Dicks Out for Harambe

Author: Richard Stroker

WhatWhat: A zookeeper has sex with, and falls in love with, Harambe the Gorilla, only to witness his tragic death.

Money Quotes:

“All new employees spend their first day working with Cincinnati’s brightest star, Harambe. Today you will be cleaning his enclosure and making sure he is as happy as can be.” Hugh chuckled slightly and began to leave. (loc 68)

Oh dear.

It was time for me to feed Harambe. The sexual tension within the enclosure was palpable. (loc 92)

I laughed way too hard at that.

I ran my tongue along the edge of Harambe’s giant banana, and he released a primal roar of satisfaction. After a long period of gorilla falacio…(loc 110)

Fellatio. It comes from the Latin fellare, meaning “to suck.”

Verdict: The sex scenes were mercifully brief and non-detailed. I mean, I wouldn’t loan it to your grandmother or anything, but you don’t get a lot of description of gorilla dick or anything. More a political parody-ish thing than actual erotica, this did succeed in making me laugh.

review: The Rump Card

Title: The Rump Card: A Billionaire, His Step Daughter, A Legend

Author: Marquis Devoliere

WhatWhat: Ronald Rump fucks his step-daughter.

rump card

Money Quotes:

The room was gold. Gold enough to make Midas a jealous man as the sun glistened upon the gilded edges of the main hall’s chandelier. (p. 1)

The pair sat conveniently close on it, without speaking, as Rump began to pour two glasses of whiskey. He gazed around at the bookshelves that lined the room. So many books, but yet none of them read by Ronald. most in actuality belonged to his father. “Who needs them anyway! I’m far too busy a man to worry about wasting my time in such a manner” Rump mused to himself as he finished topping off Viktoriya’s overfilled glass. She wasted no time and began to down the drink immediately. (p. 4)

So many comma splices.

His violent ejaculation filled her up, his hot warm semen filling her up. (p. 6)

Okay, but is she filled up? I can’t tell.

Verdict: This is less a work of erotica, honestly, than a political jab. No sex takes place until the sixth (of six) pages, and then it only lasts a paragraph. But if you’re gagging for pseudo-incest this might fit the bill. Needs an editor or some Space Grammarians to help with punctuation issues.

review: Putin on the Trump

Title: Putin on the Trump

Author: Chesty LaRue

putin on the trump

WhatWhat: A young Donald Trump experiences erotic humiliation at the hands of his college roommate, Vladimir Putin, and then after they’ve both risen to power they meet again. Beets are involved.

Money Quotes:

“I think…” and that accented sweet smelling most beautiful blue eyes Donald had ever seen wiped his brow caused his pectoral muscles to move in a way that fascinated him. (loc 27)

Uh, what?

The foreigner released his arm and held his gaze while walking away, disappearing behind a building. (34)

That’s an impressive lot of stuff to be going on simultaneously.

“Good capitalist,” said Vlad.

Vlad then forced a raw beet into Donald’s mouth. (loc 72)

And that’s the least disturbing thing that will happen to beets in this. Consider yourself warned.

Beet colored stars flashed before his eyes and Donald fell over onto their dorm floor a wet spot staining his pleated khakis. That was the first night Donald came in his pants eating his ass borscht with Vlad’s cum soup. It was not the last then. (loc 107)

I’d call that word salad except I’m pretty sure no one wants to picture salad right this minute.

When he won the primary he hoped to hear from his chilly lover. It was not until he won the election an anonymous number called his phone, the voice breathing heavily said, “Make borscht.” (loc 128)

So this is definitely dystopian fiction, then.

He begged to fist Vlad but Vlad said his hands were too small. (loc 149)

It’s not often I literally laugh out loud. Well done, author.

Verdict: Well. That’s another food I’ll never enjoy again. Quite honestly I can barely look the food pyramid in the eyes these days.

review: Feeling the Bern in my Butt

Title: Feeling the Bern in my Butt

Author: Chuck Tingle

feeling the bern

WhatWhat: Lorp has never met a candidate quite like hot, handsome Democratic contender Bernie Sambers, and soon the charismatic unicorn is riding Lorp’s ass in a public display of…I don’t know, politics? Does this actually happen in American leadership campaigns?

Money Quotes: Brace yourselves, dear readers.

I’d heard a little bit about Bernie Sambers, but not enough to quell the immediate gagging sensation I feel at yet another slimy politician scrambling for my vote. (loc 22)

So far, so realistic.

Every sign that I see has a message that resonates deeply within me, deeper than any candidate has ever been able to reach. While most politicians craft messages that tug at my heartstrings, these seem to go even father. [sic] He’s tugging at my butt. (loc 45)

Naturally Lorp’s roommate asks him if he’s feeling the burn. But wait: there’s something odd about Bernie Sambers:

From somewhere behind the hanging flags comes a stark white, galloping figure, his wintery mane flowing out behind him and the horn on his head shimmering brilliantly; Bernie Sambers. (loc 63)

This is honestly not all that different from encountering our-world Bernie supporters online, right down to the wonky punctuation.

I’m greeted by a sensual explosion of taste that shifts between cotton candy, bubblegum and cherry. This man can truly do no wrong. (loc 194)

Well, okay, I’ve never encountered a BernieBro so enthused he’d actually tasted the man.

“You trust me with your vote,” the unicorn laughs, “don’t you trust me with your butt?” (loc 212)


I can feel the democratic socialist vibrations filling my ass with warmth and then spilling out across my body, running down my arms and legs in a series of pleasant waves. (loc 226)

As a Canadian I’m feeling a little cheated. I mean, we’re socialist-ish, and all we get is free healthcare.

…no, never mind, I’d rather have the healthcare.

Anyway, I leave you with one last glimpse into how politics work in the Tingleverse. Or for all I know, how they actually work in the United States, because I’ll admit I have no idea what’s going on down there.

“I am pleased to say that Lorp Rims is my new running mate!” the unicorn bellows as we gallop past the onlookers, the cock still slamming away at my asshole. (loc 247)

Yes, that’s right: Lorp’s displaying his suitability for office by being fucked by a galloping unicorn as it passes through a crowd of supporters. I’m assuming that’s a metaphor for something.

Verdict: The American election cycle has already gone on forever, and I’ve read more politician-based erotica than anyone should have to, but this was admittedly entertaining. (Also, I’ve spoken to Bernie supporters who would probably believe the magical unicorn part. So there’s that.) I think I can safely say that this story was unforgettable, if only because my liver would never survive the amount I’d have to drink to forget it.