As a writer, I offer several different services: I edit/rewrite manuscripts ($25 per hour), do short form erotica ($1 per 20 words), and guest-write blog posts ($1 per 10 word). This page provides full examples of short form erotica commissioned by clients in the past. My graphic novel started as a edit/rewrite project, but has its own page. My first full-size book is also now live: the thesis volume volume for Sex Positivity. It’s basically my PhD in independent research form; to access it, simply go to my website’s 1-page promo and pick up a copy for free. While you’re there, you can also learn about the other upcoming volumes, project history and logo design!
Support my travel fund! Any commission money I make is being saved to fly out to see my partner, Bay, who lives in New Zealand. Tickets from where I live (America) range from $1600-2000, so every bit helps If you want to help by purchasing a commission, you can contact me on DA, Facebook, Twitter, Bluesky and Discord; my username is the same on all of them: vanderWaardart (it’s vanderWaardart86 on Tumblr). You can also use my website’s contact form, which puts you in touch with my business e-mail.
Donate to my partner’s mutual aid; get a drawing! My partner, Bay, partially relies on mutual aid to make ends meet. Large donations to his mutual aid will also get a drawing from me: $45 USD a personalized sketch, $60 a colored sketch, $90 a rough pinup, and $110 a fully-rendered pin-up. From 12/1/2023 onward, if you have donated to Bay’s mutual aid and wish to claim a drawing from me, please send proof to one of my contact addresses; once I confirm your donation, I will add you to a queue and we can talk shop. Please note, these drawings are subject to my same terms of service and hard limits.
Below are several commissioned writing samples I’ve produced this year.
Writing Sample 1
Title: “There Are More Things”
Date written: 10/19/2021
Word count: 1,200 words, commissioned; actual length, 1304 woods
Writer’s fee ($1 per 20 words): $60
About: “There Are More Things” was commissioned by the client as part of a larger series they plan to produce. The story concerns a man called Oz who is an exceptional scholar but terrible socialite. After an abysmal date, he enters an exclusive science exhibit (thanks to his excellent grades) and finds a mysterious device that can bring his wildest dreams to life…
“There Are More Things”
The muscular and handsome Oz slumped uncomfortably in his padded restaurant chair, twiddling his thumbs. He’d been discussing the many aspects of medieval French history and why the top rated “expert” in the field, Dr. Alex Ferdinand, was wrong about various customs due to a mistranslation. When he saw how his date was looking at him, he stopped mid-sentence and lapsed into awkward silence.
In the small, crowded café, a pretty intern called Sam sat across from him. Crowned with a smart little beret, her arms were folded defensively across her chest. Despite her visible frustration, she was striking to look at. A bushy cloak of shiny golden hair mantled her wide shoulders. Her small breasts hid within a tight-fitting college sweater, but her pleated miniskirt, cinching a small waist, rested on two powerful thighs attached to a formidable rear. She was, as the undergrads put it, “bottom heavy.”
Oz snapped out of his lusty reverie and blurted, “You look very nice!” Unimpressed, Sam leaned back in her chair and frowned at him over her horn-rimmed glasses. She was not wooed by his handsome looks, unpunctual flattery or nice clothes; instead, her green eyes radiated cool disappointment.
“I thought we weren’t going to talk history this time…” she reminded him curtly. She shoved her glasses back up her nose with one long, manicured finger. A hot chocolate steamed faintly on its white, ceramic platter next to her, but she paid it no mind.
Oz grimaced, visibly chagrined. “I only wanted to mention one thing—” he started to protest, but Sam’s smoldering gaze silenced him.
“You said that last time,” she warned him, her upper lip stiffening.
“Yeah, but that was before Ferdinand’s manuscript hit the shelves—”
Sam exploded with an intensity that made Oz jump.
“For god’s sake, Oz!” She lurched indignantly and half-leapt from her seat, nearly spilling her drink. Knees bent, she ignored it (and the other customers) and continued to glare down at him. She closed her eyes with a shudder and took a breath to steady herself. When her eyes reopened, she sounded terse, but in control:
“You’ve been talking nonstop for five minutes!” she told him, lowering back into her café chair and smoothing out her skirt. The leather cushion crunched under her large, shapely bottom. “I really don’t care about the head of our department and why you think he’s bogus. We’re grad students, not tenured professors. This isn’t a competition.”
Speak for yourself, Oz thought, his temperature rising.
“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to compromise. “I was—”
“Bored?” Sam interjected, raising an eyebrow at him. “Like last time?” Suddenly she noticed the hot chocolate and lifted the saucer in both hands before taking a sip. She moaned appreciatively at the taste, but her green eyes stayed glued to him, waiting for his response.
Oz gazed back at her, confused. He loved history, but so did she. So what was the problem? A few uncomfortable seconds passed, neither of them budging. Around them, other couples returned to their meals, pretending not to stare. Oz did his best to ignore them.
“We’re finalists in the same graduate department…” he managed to observe, growing agitated with his new, unwanted audience, but also his date.
Sam cocked an eyebrow at him. “So what?” she challenged. Oz merely shrugged, unsure of what to say.
Sam rolled her eyes, her desperation breaking.
“Oz, I’ve done nothing but cram for finals!” she begged. “I don’t want to talk about French history right now.” Despite her pluck, a pleading note lingered in her voice.
Perplexed and unstable to stop himself, Oz said the words, “Don’t you like history?” Someone else in the room groaned.
No sooner had he spoken than Sam rose from her seat, looking fed up. “This was a mistake,” she said, draining her chocolate with one pull. Then she gathered her belongings, tossed some money on the table and made for the exit. As she walked, her large, shapely ass jiggled under her skirt. Her full, curly hair glinted in the sunlight, bouncing like coins in a bag.
“Sam, wait!” Oz called after her, only to have the door close in his face.
“Fuck,” he said, his shoulders slumping. He winced, jabbed in the ribs by the special invitation hidden inside his jacket; the pocket was too small and the envelope’s sharp corners tortured him. He resisted the urge to take it out and look at it.
“Of course…” he grumbled, hurling his napkin in frustration. Ignoring his coffee, he sighed, threw some money on the table (equal to hers) and left.
Outside on the cold, windy street, Sam had turned left, storming towards campus. Oz turned sharply in the opposite direction, pulling his jacket close to his body. Only at a safe distance did he pause to pull the envelope from its hiding place. He held it in both hands and looked down at it sadly. Its pale surface was framed in gold trim—gold that glittered less brightly when glimpsed alone.
To think I wanted her to attend! Oz thought bitterly. He frowned and felt very lonesome. Used to it by now, the thought pushed him onward. He pocketed the envelope and resumed walking towards the science gala. During the trek his thoughts turned to Sam. He’d never seen her naked, but his imagination worked well enough; it pictured her naked body under him as he played with her beautiful ass. As shapely (and fuzzy) as a peach, it jiggled like two dimpled flan.
Oz shook his head and the heavenly image vanished. No sense thinking about that! he reminded himself. That ship had sailed. As the wind howled around him, he bowed his head and marched into the freezing gale.
One block ahead, he turned the corner and found himself face-to-face with the aging gala. It yawned over him like a hulking maw, its aging trim crumbling and covered with ivy. The dark windows stared at him like the sockets of a many-eyed skull; Oz stared back, undeterred: Whereas Sam was going home to pout and decompress, he was going to rub elbows with the university’s elite!
Motivated to continue, Oz proceeded into the courtyard. A circular fountain sat in the middle, noosed by a bumpy brick path. The basin was dry as a bone. As Oz walked past it, he glanced down at a pile of rusty change. Curled, windswept leaves swirled and skittered around him, producing a flash of various browns, reds and yellows. Oz ignored the show, his sights set on the towering entrance doors. They loomed like graves that opened to greet him.
“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, and walked into the building.
Oz found himself standing inside a dark corridor. A thick curtain obscured the bright, noisy room directly ahead. While the fabric blocked his sight, Oz could hear the bustle on the other side. Eager to join in, he waited impatiently for the manservant to remove his jacket. The aging man had appeared next to him like magic.
“What’s that?” Oz asked, nodding at the exhibit sign propped against the wall. It read “Time Machine! Come and See!” in big red letters. Stretched under them was the anachronistic painting of a well-dressed man entertaining an awestruck crowd.
The old man quietly followed Oz’s gaze. When he saw the sign, his expression changed; he leered knowingly at Oz, his thin skin stretching over an angular, impish skull. The pale, insufficient light made his face look ghastly.
“Tonight’s entertainment!” the hideous manservant purred.
“I thought this was a science exhibit…” Oz opined cautiously.
“Oh, it is!” the other man replied. “Follow me, sir. Follow me!” Without so much as a backward glance, he turned around and strode through the curtain, clutching Oz’s jacket. Annoyed, Oz followed him, if only to make sure he didn’t steal it…
[end writing sample]
Writing Sample 2
Title: “Strange Bedfellows”
Date written: 1/28/2021
Word count: 1,279 words (minus the bracketed sections which are audio instructions for the narrator)
Writer’s fee ($1 per 20 words): $63.95
About: “Strange Bedfellows” was a paid collaboration between myself and content creator Autumn Ivy. The story was written by me, and is posted here as part of my portfolio. Autumn is handling the audio version, which will be posted to her Only Fans page. Voice overs are available as part of her regular content (accessible through a subscription fee). However, she also accepts voice over work through paid commissions via the Only Fans tip system.
“Strange Bedfellows”
This is the security log of XO Ashwell, last stationed aboard the 201 Sovereign. Myself, Captain Hicks, and five others were sent to explore Jupiter’s moon, Europa. Landing its frozen surface, we recovered a dormant alien lifeform, and a strange relic. We secured them in the ship’s hold and set course for earth.
Soon after, there was a containment breach. This report covers those events.
I wake up to find myself alone. I emerge from my sleep pod. The ship is in a low state of power, but life support and artificial gravity are still active. I can breathe, and my feet touch the floor. The life deck is mostly dark, lit by an ominous red glow.
I’m wearing tiny briefs, company-issue, and a cotton tank top. The storage locker next to my life capsule is locked; I can’t access my uniform, but my boots and jacket were never stowed. I find them and put them on. My security key is still in the pocket. (Yeah, it’s against protocol; you can bill me.)
I check the security panel on the wall. No sign of the captain. The science android is also missing. The crew is still asleep. I need to determine what’s wrong. I take my keycard and exit the room, heading for the ship’s mainframe.
I creep down the bridge. Approaching the housing unit, the mainframe expands around me. I climb the stairs and insert my key card. The ancient machine responds, booting up with a series of beeps. Its CRT screen flashes red, notifying me of a security breach: Sample loose. Ship infected. Estimated chances of survival extremely low. Alarmed, I enter my emergency override; I instruct the computer to purge the containment cell, and eject any occupied life pods.
My thoughts race. I can set a course for Jupiter before escaping in my own pod. I won’t reroute the ship’s flight path until I find the captain, but I can prep our life pods for jettison. I take the security pistol from the ship’s ammo locker and make for the life deck. A monster appears in front of me. Its body is muscular and lean like the captain’s. Its face is blank, its fingers slender. Its skin is black and shiny like android plastic.
[audible gasp] The mysterious artifact has fused the captain, the science android and the alien organism into a single, humanoid life form!
I glance down between his legs and see a large, swinging penis, uncircumcised. Definitely not the captain’s! I suddenly feel naked under my jacket. The cold air makes my nipples hard, poking through my tank top; my space briefs hug my full, shapely ass.
I take aim and fire. The stun round bounces off the creature’s chest. He growls at me; I turn and run away. My boots thud with every step. My strong thighs burn. I turn the corner, reaching the airlock. I’m trapped, I realize.
“Fuck!” I hiss. Thinking fast, I reach the door terminal and activate the purge cycle. I hit “activate” before strapping myself to the life harness. The countdown silently begins. Five minutes and counting. What the hell? When did they introduce that feature?
Panicking slightly I turn around. The creature’s shadow stretches on the wall as it nears the corner. I need to distract him. I set my pistol down and stand back up. I pull my jacket open. My breasts are sweating. I rub them through my tank top. I pull my panties upward, giving myself a camel toe. Despite the danger, my clit feels slightly hard.
The monster appears. It slowly advances, backing me against the wall. I stare at him as he strokes my cheek. His fingers are oddly soft. I feel his cock pulsing against my thigh. To my surprise, my hairy pussy feels pretty soaked. I sink to my knees. Holding the monster’s cock in both hands, I lick it from aft to stern.
“Mmm, you like that?” I wrap my lips around the tip. I pull the foreskin back and suckle on the head. Its owner groans. I slide my lips down the shaft, swallowing it all. [sucking sounds] I’m crouching on the balls of my feet. My panties are moist from pressing against my hot mound. It’s not long before I want that big dick inside me.
I pull down my panties and kick them away. “You want this pussy?” I sit on my butt and lean back, spreading my legs nice and wide. The creature kneels between them; his thick cockhead presses against my slit. I gasp when he slides inside, stretching me open. My pussy stretches to accommodate him.
“Fuuuuck…!” I clutch the monster’s waist. “Someone’s eager! Your dick feels so good inside me, baby!” I bite my lip as he begins to thrust, just like the captain. Holding my legs in the air, I watch his massive cock slide in and out. The faceless monster purrs and starts to go deeper.
“Oh, god! Fuck this tight pussy, you freak! Fill me up with your big, hard cock!” My pussy lips grip his shaft as he pounds me. Every thrust makes my tits bounce. I squeeze them together with my elbows. I guide the monster with my hands and legs, making sure he fucks me just the way I like.
[moaning sounds from getting fucked]
After a few minutes, I get up. The monster pulls out and sits in front of me, his giant hard-on leaking pre-cum. I get on all fours, showing him my ass. I reach between my legs and spread my pussy lips wide open. “There you go…” I coo, letting him mount me from behind. He slides all the way inside, and begins to fuck me hard. My ass cheeks clap from the impact.
[moaning resumes, intensifies]
I grip the floor panels and thrust my ass into the air. I feel myself getting close and shut my eyes. [orgasm sounds] I feel the cream gush from my snatch, coating the monster’s shaft. My body shakes, my thighs twitch and I punch the door with my hand. The monster stiffens in response. His dickhead swells inside me. Cum shoots from the tip, coating my walls.
“Mmm, yes…” I squeeze his dick, milking it with my pussy. Finished, he pulls out. A fountain of jizz gushes out of me, pouring over my clit, covering my mound and sticking to my pubic hair. I reach down and coat my fingers, raising them to my mouth for a taste. [tasting sounds]
Suddenly the timer reaches zero. An alarm blares; the airlock doors begin to open. I grab the security pistol and brace myself. I feel the room depressurize. The safety harness tightens but holds, keeping me inside.
The monster screams. He jerks forward and stumbles past me, jamming his fingers into the doorframe. The vacuum pulls his body horizontal, but he holds on. Dangling sideways from the wall, I raise my pistol. “Sorry, Cap’!” I say and fire.
I hit the monster square in the face. He shrieks and lets go, flying into the void. The vacuum rips the pistol from my hand. I grimace, watching it disappear. Wind rushes past me, passing through the bulkhead and into the giant maw. The shutdown station ejects from the wall. I grab the cable and pull the box close to me. I hit the override as hard as I can.
The outer hatch begins to close. The alarm stops and I fall to the ground. Panting, I drop the controller and sit there, breathing for a second. I feel a wetness between my thighs and look down. The monster’s cum is still leaking out of me.
“Good thing I’m on birth control!” I groan, and climb to my feet.
End report.