Chris Kalyta
adult stories of adventure and romance
I write for the fun of it.  The interactions of characters, as they progress through a complex or simple plot, are enjoyable whenever they're well-written.  I find my stories fun to write, or I stop and rethink the plot and characters, or possibly give up and start a new project.  Others seem to find my tales entertaining, much to my surprise.

You may find a strong Canadian slant to my stories and this is because I am a proud Canadian.  Many of the tales take place in my home country and many of the characters are Canadian, even if they are living elsewhere.

Perversely, I don’t consider myself an author of erotica.  I prefer to think I write adventures, usually with some romance and sex.  The protagonists are adults and, well, adults do adult things such as have sex.  Perhaps I’m just fooling myself, but I’ll let the readers decide for themselves on which genre(s) my writing fits into.

Many of my stories have elements of the fantastic in them, such as elves, magic, mythical monsters, and people out of legend.  I take inspiration from anywhere I can, but I find my own interests in fantasy come from ancient mythology, fairy tales and fantasy literature dating from the early part of the twentieth century. 

an excerpt from a first draft of Mistress Circe's Corrals, an erotic adventure about a young woman accidentally becoming involved in pony play (84 000+ words, planned to be an ebook early in 2016):

The blonde surveyed the group.  “How many of you are first-timers?”  Penelope put up her hand, as did three other girls.  “Then listen up!  Do whatever they tell you to do, no matter what.  Give the audience a good show.  Look each one of them in the eye if you get the chance.  You’ll all be fine. They don’t scrape the bottom of the barrel for this lot.  Only the best get to be shown.”

The door opened again and the blonde was ushered into the room beyond.

“Oh, God,” whispered the first girl again.  “I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Then stand by the door where the last one is hiding,” said someone Penelope couldn’t place.  If Roberto thought she was hiding or trying to avoid proving to him how sorry she was then he might not forgive her!  Penelope made her way across the floor to the door leading out.

Another brunette, one with hair much longer than Penelope’s, smiled at her.  “Look at this one girls!  She’s an eager beaver!”

“In more ways than one,” someone else muttered.

Before Penelope could retort the door opened beside her.  “You,” said the tuxedo man, taking her hand. He led her onto the sandy floor where bright lights shone into her eyes.  Penelope cast one forlorn look at the closing door behind her.  “Move your hands, darling, no-one can see your tits or your pussy.  Don’t you want to make a good impression?”

Penelope dropped her hands to her sides, remembering Roberto’s anger. She took a few deep breaths.

“Very good.  They’ll like they way your breasts rise and fall as you breath like that. What’s your name, darling?” He led her to what appeared to be the very centre of the large room.  Her eyes had adjusted to the lighting, and she could make out a long dark window with figures behind it along the wall ahead of her.  To her left was a smaller window, and she could see Roberto nodding his head in satisfaction.  There was a large television screen to her right that displayed numbers and letters, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“Your name, darling?” Tuxedo man gently reminded her.

“Oh, Penelope Archer.”

Tuxedo man let go of her hand and turned to the long window. “Miss Penelope Archer!  I’m sure we all agree that she’s quite lovely.  A pretty face with bright eyes, and short but curly dark hair.  Her natural colouration you can see.  This one’s not some phoney.  She’s a little shy about being here and it’s her first time! Look at those breasts, each a pleasant handful.  And the curves as you follow her hips.”

“Turn around, Penelope,” he said to her.  She turned around and faced away form the long window. “And,” he continued his announcements to the viewers, “look at that bottom!  What a marvel!  I bet you’d all like to see her prance and trot!”

“Run a little, darling,” he suggested.

Penelope began to run on the spot.

“Around the perimeter, darling.  A nice easy trot.”

Penelope took a deep breath and took a few quick steps.  She faltered and nearly fell, but regained her balance at the last second.  The combination of bizarre footware and soft, sandy floor made it next to impossible to actually run.  She tried walking quickly to the wall, then turned and began to walk beside it.

“A little faster of you please, darling.  They want to see your tits bounce.”

She sped up, but kept one hand out close to the wall for balance. She went round the arena and as the television came into view she could see her name and information on the screen.  She could also see letters, with numbers in the thousands beside them.

“You’re doing great, darling.  Keep it up!  Get a good sweat going!  They want to test your endurance.”  Tuxedo man glanced at the board.  “A little faster, darling.  Let’s show them how eager to please you are!”

Penelope increased her speed again, but was now forced to keep her outstretched arm in constant contact with the wall to keep her balance.  She was panting.  The windows were like mirrors to her as she ran past them, and she couldn’t see if Roberto was happy or still angry.  She so hoped he’d forgiven her!

“Okay, darling!  You’ve done an amazing job!”  Tuxedo man clapped as Penelope made her way back to him.  “Look at that board!  You should be proud!”

“What...what...proud...?” she managed to say while trying to catch her breath.

       “Look, just go over to that door over there and walk to the end of the corridor.”        
an excerpt from a first draft of King of the Skies, an attempt at a non-erotic 'steampunk'-type of story (possible ebook for mid- 2016)
            “I’m not afraid of you,” she said, drawing me from my distracted thoughts.

I turned and beheld Miss Pines; Constance to her friends, however I was not one of those being simply assistant to the master of steam aboard the Pegasus, her father’s airship.  She wore a fine blue dress, possibly of silk, with an impossibly impractical skirt that swung this way and that in the winds on the open deck, as well as gloves and a shawl to keep out the cold.  Her face was smooth and her hair was curled in the latest style.  She was pretty enough, though I had little interest in what I was then sure was a vapid and dull bauble.

“I said: I’m not afraid of you.”

“I heard you, Miss Pines.  Good evening.” I turned back to the rail took a pull on my pipe.  Smoke dissipated quickly in the breeze.  The clouds were dark against the night time sky as the glowing Pegasus hummed across the sky, heading east, toward the rising sun and a grand destiny.  Or, so we hoped, having all fallen under Professor Pines’ spell.

The lady strode across the open deck, her boots clicking on the hardwood, until she stood at the rail but a few yards from me.  “I only meant that you didn’t have to vacate the observation deck simply because I appeared, sir.”  Her voice had taken on a chill.

I nodded, then carefully tapped out my pipe.  “I had wondered why you had said what you did, Miss Pines.  Thank you for clarifying the matter.”

“What...what were you thinking when I interrupted you?”

My brow furrowed at the intrusive question.  She must have noticed.

“I only ask...well, here we are but twenty-five souls aboard my father’s dream, setting out on a mission to save the world from itself, and it seems foolish to not act as friends amongst such a small group of comrades, does it not?”

I nodded again. She was clearly not the young girl I had first taken her for.  “Miss Pines, I was looking out at this vista — what I could see of it in this dark — and I was wondering how different we are from birds.”

“From birds? I pray that you are not planning on attempting unassisted flight, sir.  Have you been drinking?”

I chuckled. After a second she joined me. “Nothing so detrimental to my future health, Miss Pines, I assure you.  I was thinking on the fact that we see as a bird sees, standing upon this deck as Pegasus floats far above the land.  The troubles below seem so distant and unimportant when one can simply take wing.  A bird must look at the other land-bound beasts with such disdain.”

She put a hand on her bonnet and leaned over the rail, staring into the darkness below. “My eyes have not adjusted fully. However...I think I begin to see your point.  You think of our mission and how we seek to improve mankind’s lot and yet we have left our earth-bound brethren below, almost as if to their own devices.  Do you suggest that my father’s plans are folly, doomed to fail, and result in a separation of mankind into two species; one a Morlock-like, coarse and brutish, man-beast and the other a graceful and detached Eloi?”

I shrugged helplessly.  “I supposed nothing of the sort, Miss Pines.  You asked what I was thinking and I told you.”  She looked embarrassed.  “I have faith in your father’s plan to overcome the cruelties of man through the use of this grand steam-powered machine.  And I think that men and birds are nothing alike.”

Placated, she rewarded me with a small smile.  “Have you read Mister Well’s latest?”

“Wells?” I had not heard of the man, having spent my life immersed in machinery.

A look of disappointment crossed her face.  “I had thought that you were a man of letters since you spend your idle time in deep thought...”

“Your pardon, Miss Pines.”  I bowed slightly. “I can read, but have only partaken in the Bible and whatever book grants me further knowledge of steam engines.  I’ve had little time for fiction, if that is what this Mister Wells you speak of dabbles in.”

“Dabbles! I think...” she began raising a finger, then she regained her composure and smiled sympathetically at me. “I think that you have not experienced the true joy of reading, sir, until you have experienced the imaginative plots and ideas that come from a skilled mind.  If you chance to visit my father’s cabin I will loan you a book or two to read in your spare time.”

“I...I would, indeed, be interested in borrowing such books, Miss Pines, if it does mean so much to you.  Your father will not mind?”

“They are my books, not his.  He thinks such things...frivolous.”

“Well, Miss Pines, I am curious about what you have said.”

She allowed herself a small and triumphant smile, then turned to leave.

“Miss Pines?”

She stopped and turned about gracefully.  The light say to the deck proved no trouble for her.  “Yes, sir?”

“I apologize. I should have introduced myself.” I bowed low.  “Mister William Starling, at your service.”

She curtsied. “Miss Constance Pines, at yours.”

“Will we meet again?” I asked.

She laughed. “It’s a small airship, and there are but twenty-five of us aboard Mister William Starling.”

Now it was my turn to be embarrassed.  “Please call me Bill.  You did suggest that we should act as friends amongst such a small group...”

“That I did,” she replied with a pert nod.  “Very good, Bill.  Perhaps I shall see you at dinner one evening?”


And she departed the deck, leaving me alone in my thoughts.  So, there was a brain in the midst of those dark curls, I thought. Although, the likelihood of my being invited to dinner at Professor Pines’ table was vanishingly small and she must have known that, the idea of spending time socializing with the lovely Miss Pines was an attractive one.

            I looked back over the rail.  Any doubts I’d had about taking on this job were fast dispersing in the wind that swirled about the deck.  I’d not believed the tale of the airship when it had first been whispered in my ear, and then I’d come to the west coast and actually seen it with my own eyes.  Pegasus was an ambitious project led by a great man who sought to cure humanity of many of its ills.  His plans were daunting, but with the right crew around him Professor Pines might actually succeed in elevating his fellow men. 
an excerpt from a first draft of Cuckoo, a science fiction adventure/mystery set in modern times (for early 2016 on Literotica?):

“Can you come into my office for a few minutes?”

Grace nodded, then followed the woman into a small and rather plain doctor’s office.  The woman undid her jacket and sat behind her desk.  Grace looked about then sat upon the couch along the far wall.

“That won’t be necessary, Miss Newton.  Unless you’d prefer to recline?”

“Oh, no.  I just thought...” she sheepishly rose from the couch and sat in the chair so she could face the doctor across the desk.  “I think I’m here by mistake...” she offered.

“Oh definitely, Miss Newton,” agreed the doctor, removing her glasses. “I’m Doctor Esposito.  I’ve looked over your information and I think some people have been very lax in their responsibilities toward you.”

Grace stared at the woman in confusion.

“When did you begin taking this medication?”

“I don’t remember exactly when.  I suppose since I was very young.”

The doctor scribbled some notes upon a pad of paper.  “So you don’t recall any gradual increase in dosage or an increase in the number of pills?”

“No...”  Grace tried hard to remember.  “I’ve taken these pills as long as I can remember.  I need them.”



“I’ll need more than that, Miss Newton.”

“Because...I set fires.”

“And when was the last time you set a fire, Miss Newton?”

“Oh, I can’t remember ever setting one.  It all happened when I was a child.  That’s why I take the medication.”

The doctor put her pen down.  “This medication is not designed to dampen dark impulses, Miss Newton.  It does diminish your capacity to think and to act independently.  It makes you extremely susceptible to suggestion and—“

“But I need it!”

“My point is that you don’t need it, Miss Newton.  In fact, I’m very suspicious whether you ever needed such medication to prevent you from setting fires.”


“Look.  I can’t order you to stop taking the medication, Miss Newton.  If the medication made you a danger to anyone I could commit you to a medical institution and simply wait until the drugs have left your system - I expect that would take only a few days.  I do implore you to listen to me and stop taking these drugs.”

“But...I’ll be a danger to everyone...” sputtered Grace.

“I sincerely doubt that.  However, what if I were to see you every second day to monitor your progress as you detoxify?”

“I suppose...but, I was told I had to take them.”

            “Miss Newton, I will be perfectly honest with you.  I suspect some crimes have been committed and that whoever first prescribed this medication was involved.  Once you are off the medication you may start remembering things that are very troubling.  This may not be the case, however I think deliberate and malicious intent is more likely than gross incompetence in this particular case.”        

an excerpt from a first draft of a War of 1812 short novel, an erotic adventure/romance set in 1812 in Upper Canada (continuation of The Doctor's Daughter, ebook or Literotica some time in 2016):

“You have been a foolish girl,” chided Abigail, as the two sisters slipped quietly into the kitchen.

“I have?”  Barbara’s mouth dropped open in surprise.  She removed her travelling cloak and set it over a chair, then pushed a wayward strand of blonde hair back under her bonnet. Abigail picked up the discarded cloak.  “No,” stated Barbara, “’tis my cloak so let me dispose of it.”

Abigail watched in wonder as her younger sister actually performed a household chore without the need for repeated chiding beforehand.  While putting a cloak away in the wardrobe was a simple task, Barbara had sat idle for years while the elder Aimes sister did all the family’s cleaning and cooking.

“What cause have you to chide me for being a foolish girl...” Barbara’s voice dropped off as she realized what she was saying.  “I mean, sister, what recent act have I done that makes you think I am foolish.”

“You seduced him!” accused the elder sister.

“I admitted this much to you before I departed to collect Father. Lawrence would make any woman an ideal husband, so you have no reason to label me a fool simply because I used what tools I have to lure a husband.  And, as you well know, I had thought he had feelings for me and I...I did as I saw fit to establish a happy future for myself.”

“A courtship does not begin with premarital intimacy!”

Barbara’s eyes flashed.  “If you have not taken advantage of my absence, sister, then I will call you a fool to your face.  As I informed you: I was leaving the two of you in seclusion so you would become better acquainted.”

“Better acquainted!” Abigail stuttered, then grabbed a pot and headed outside through the rear door.  Barbara followed her, then worked the pump for her sister - again to Abigail’s surprise.

“You have availed yourself of the opportunity, have you not Abigail? Lawrence’s heart was always yours, even when he and I briefly thought it belonged to me.”  Abigail did not respond to the question.  “Oh!  You call me fool, yet I have charted my course and set my sails whilst you busied yourself baking cookies and checking the larder!  Why could not you cast yourself on the wild seas and live? Must you always be so proper and obedient?”

“Your maps are faulty and lead you to an end you shall not like!” countered Abigail.

“At least I live!  Sister, why could you not have taken him in your arms and enjoyed what time you were given?  Don’t you know that we have but a fleeting time on this mortal world? We have heard so often enough in that boring old church!  Lawrence lives and breathes, and he was here, alone with you in our home all night, yet you cowered on your bed with your sheets pulled over your head!”

“I did not cower in my bed...” Abigail whispered.

“Then you did...!”  Barbara released the pump handle, tightened her hands into fists and spun on the spot.  “Oh, you finally cast aside fear and doubt, and took a plunge!”

The elder Aimes sister remembered her fear, her uncertainty, and then her heathen pleasure at the physical intimacies she had shared with Lawrence during the night.  The act had been like nothing she had ever imagined, and laying in his arms afterward had surely felt like Heaven itself.  “We should not talk of this!”

“Oh, but we must!”  Barbara reached out and took her sister’s hands in hers.  “Everyone is so fussy about such things.  You must tell me everything!  And then we’ll compare...”

 “AND I SHALL NOT COUNTENANCE YOUR ADMISSION TO THIS HOUSE AGAIN!” shouted Doctor Aimes from inside the house.

The two sisters stared at each other in surprise, then hurried into their home.  The front door slammed shut, and they rushed through the house to find their enraged father struggling with shaking hands to light his pipe by the fireplace.

“Father!  What has become of Lawrence?” demanded Abigail.

“Captain Orr,” Barbara reminded her sister as discretely as she could.

       “That man shall not have entry into this house again, nor shall you speak with him!  I forbid it!”        

an excerpt from a first draft of Minx: Paleozoic Zone (episode 5), to go on Literotica in 2016
            Dragon was easily manhandled by the other hyperman, who threw his enemy’s bound form into a holding chair. Straps of reinforced fibre wrapped themselves around Dragon’s limbs and mid-section, rendering him helpless though the cords that Mahar had used earlier had already accomplished that job.  From under the armrest, a syringe appeared, which then injected some chemical through Dragon’s shirt and skin before disappearing back into a tiny alcove.  The cords that had been tied around the man’s body suddenly dissolved, leaving only the straps from the chair holding him in place.

Dragon tensed his muscles and tried to expand the space his form occupied.  Mahar sneered in disgust and walked away, leaving Dragon alone with Vanessa.  The bindings on the chair tightened painfully, forcing a grimace from the stubborn hyperman. He grinned back at the naked woman who watched him while she grinned evilly.

“It won’t work,” she commented.

Dragon relaxed.  “No, I suppose not.”  His mind shifted gears; Vanessa was a tool to help him gain freedom, and she was best manipulated with fear he recalled.

“He’s going to kill you,” she noted with a chuckle.

“Yes, there’s no point in belabouring the obvious Vanessa.”

She blinked in surprise. “You’re not afraid?”

“Of dying?”  He threw back his head and laughed.  “My death will simply free my soul so that it may return to its place beside the Creator.  There are far worse things than death, Vanessa.  And Mahar’s going to do many of those things to me before he lets me die.”

“And you’re not terrified?” she asked, her voice a little shrill.

“What’s the point in terror? It’s not going to save me. It’s not going to save you either, Vanessa,” he added, as sympathetically as he could.

“Save me?”  Her eyes opened wide, and she hugged her chest.

“Yes.  He’ll visit horrendous tortures upon you soon enough.”  He let that sink in for a few seconds.  “What did you trade him?  He wouldn’t let you walk around his base like this...unless you’d offered him something he couldn’t resist.”

“I...I told him...” she drew herself up, obviously trying to mimic Dragon’s bravado, “I told him he could do whatever he wanted with me once you and that slut were dead.”

“Minx is alive then?” Dragon asked, too eagerly he realized.  He knew he had to change the subject.  “Mahar will be showing you the manner of your demise as soon as he can.  He’ll want to see you worry and fret, and watch as your nerves slowly shatter in anticipation of the hell you’ll face, Vanessa.”

“But you and Minx will be dead!”

“I feel sorry for you, Vanessa.” He saw her surprise at that admission, then disbelief.  “No, I really do.  I can desensitize myself to whatever tortures he visits upon me, and I’ve done some modifications on Minx that give her a limited ability to do the same.” It was a lie, but it had conveniently popped into his head.  “But you’re just a normal human, Vanessa.  You’ll feel everything he does to you when the time comes.”

She swallowed hard.  “You were going to drag me behind that boat and feed me to sea monsters!”

“I was never serious about that, Vanessa.  If I had been, would I have cared whether or not you were conscious?”


“You’d tried to hurt Minx,” he reminded her.  “Didn’t it occur to you that I’d want to get revenge upon you?  Otherwise, I had no intention of harming you.”  He looked her in the eye as she shook her head in disbelief.  “Didn’t I rescue you from that giant squid monster, Vanessa?  I could have stayed safely aboard my vessel while it crunched your bones and dragged you beneath the waves.”

“You’re playing with my head!” she accused.

“Could be,” he agreed. “But, have I ever done worse to you?”

“You gave me to that pirate! He did things to me!”

“Just like your friends would have done things to Minx?  Simple revenge, Vanessa.  Nothing more.”


Dragon nodded his head to the door through which Mahar had left the room.  “You’d best follow after him.  He’ll get suspicious if you stay here too long.  Mahar doesn’t want you to learn anything that might help you escape his clutches.”

           Vanessa hurried out the open doorway, eager to find Mahar and prove Dragon’s words to be lies.  She took one curious look back at him then ran off down the hall.  The prisoner relaxed in the chair.  He smiled.  Vanessa would be very easy to manipulate, especially since Mahar was unlikely to bother considering what harm a harmless human could do.
Chris Kalyta
October 2, 2016