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GLADweb00.jpg (57697 bytes)New in English!!!
de luxe edition
Illustrated by Badia

Now by ZERNS and available in COMIC format: ORDER SEIZED the first part of this great novel. Click HERE for details

All characters are 18 years old or older.
This is an entirely fictional work based on
fictional characters for adult entertainment.
It shows no real people or events.
The characters are described participating in
CONSENSUAL role-play for their own personal
satisfaction, simulating activities which involve
sexual dominance and submission. 
No actual characters were harmed in the making
of this novel.

This manuscript was a revelation, one of three original manuscripts by the young Japanese writer Towaco Takamura. In all of them of them we found all the rare qualities publishers dream of and we are proud to present in this collection: Seized, Training my Slavegirl and Using my Slave, an erotic dream narrated with elegance and tact, but which is at the same time uncompromising and pulls no punches. The story of a siege and a heart-gripping captivity. You will not be disappointed!


Price 19.99Euro

One day Robert T. Wilson decides to stop being an obscure clerk and to become the greatest of the British psychopaths. 

Robert and his victim Marianne, two characters with nothing in common, face each other in a life-or-death struggle a few metres below the streets of London. The man is an obscure office worker who has decided to take control of his own life. The woman is an independent business-like young woman who already controls her own destiny and has no qualms about exploiting her physical beauty to manipulate and even ill-treat those who cross her path.

This is the story of a strange, aberrant, relationship that changes the lives of a criminal and his victim.  The darkness the oppressive solitude, and fear – fear of her capturer and fear of being unable to withstand so much indignity – hang over young and pretty Marianne, imprisoned in a gloomy basement in a London slum.  Her capturer, Robert, is an immature psychopath whose mind is clouded by fear of facing his own victim and by panic at the thought of being discovered.  This causes Robert to take it out on his prisoner.

Marianne Crawford knows this better than anyone. For two weeks she has been in his power and subjected to his totally paranoid arbitrariness, his phobias, his extreme cruelty and above all his aberrant sexual habits.  She keeps a secret diary and describes the hell in which she lives ...

"... Two things keep me sane: this diary and the hope of escaping and taking my revenge. If he discovers the diary I am finished. I write in tiny writing on the pieces of toilet paper he leaves me. I use eyeliner which I sharpen on the bars. That is all he leaves me when he goes. Eyeliner, lipstick and lacquer for my nails. He's a pig. A fetishist pig. An unpredictable, violent madman. I am terrified. He's decided to turn me into a female dog, a bitch, and I have to behave like one. I'm his naked bitch with a collar, shut in a filthy kennel, barking and wagging my tail. I hate him. I hate his cynical look, his nasal voice and especially his hands. I can't stand his hands .. .He's a bloody sadist and he knows all my weak points ... fear of the dark, of small spaces, of not being able to move, of violence, of sexual blackmail... That's why he ties me up in the most indecent and unbearable ways, shuts me in this tiny cage without light, he beats me repeatedly, he fondles me obscenely until I cry with the pain... And all of this blindfold! ..."

Towako Tamura is unquestionably the leading figure of "Japanese Gutter GORE", a not entirely respectable genre which is nevertheless popular in that country and is rarely published in the West. She is also author of "Hell" and "Captured", both of which will be available in this collection soon.



After supper that night I lay on the bed and connected the camera.

She was on her knees, tied with her back to the post with no food or drink and with the video of her first time with her owner at full volume in front of her eyes.

She was lovely…

She still had her mouth forced open by the ring, with her elbows stuck up her back and her shoulders pulled back.  She had her thighs together with her ankles tied to the tops of them and her shoes tied to her bum.  I love tying her shoes by the heels; it’s a trick that immobilizes her foot and keeps it decoratively pointed.


I zoomed in on her: her eyes were tired and weepy and her saliva was sliding down her chin … The cord that went under her arms to tie her to the post was sinking into her flesh and it was stretching her breasts irresistibly.  Her nipples were erect!

I have always said that behind her girlish face, Marianne hides her real nature, that of a nymphomaniac.

She would pay for that too… 

I decided to go down...

The disguise … The siren … The hosepipe…

I remembered that Marianne would be thirsty, very thirsty.

When I was satisfied that she was clean enough and awake, I put a chair in the cage, I removed the ring from her mouth and tied a coarse rope around her waist, then I put it between her legs letting it bite cruelly into her sex.

I also put a ruler under her knees.

This seemed to upset her a lot, because she immediately began to twist against the post in an absurd attempt to ease the weight on her knees…

Maybe the cord and the ruler seem cruel to you, but don’t be fooled, everything was necessary.  It was essential for Marianne to pay attention to my words … I had important things to say to her and one way or another she would focus her mind and not be distracted by her girlish nonsense.

I sat down and pulled the cord to open her cunt.

Marianne whimpered.  She always does when I do that.  It seems it’s very sensitive.

‘Pay attention because I’m not going to repeat what you are about to hear,’ I said solemnly, pulling harder on the cord.

‘Until now I have tried uselessly to make you understand and accept your new situation.  You are here because I decided to make you my woman, my female, to be my partner so to speak.  But the months have passed and you still try to not be what I want.  Tell me … What do you think I should do with you?’

Marianne looked imploringly into my eyes.  It excites me when she does that…

‘I am sorry Sir.’ She said with her sweet voice.  ‘I love you, I want to serve you, adore you, but I need to rest and eat … I can’t go on like this, abused and chained all the time.’

‘Enough!’ I interrupted.  ‘If you really loved me you wouldn’t moan about this nonsense.’

‘I promise you Sir.  I would do anything for you.  Whatever you want; but I can’t.  I don’t have the strength!’

I looked at her, letting my scrutinising gaze cynically wander over her.  Marianne was still trying to get support from the post for her arms … Just seeing the ruler biting into her knees made mine hurt.

I showed her the needle…

‘If you would really do anything for me, ask me to stick this on your nip…’

She looked at me disconcertedly.

‘I’ll tell you what I have thought of, you and me we are going to make a deal.  Coincidentally Sunday is our anniversary; we have been together for six months exactly.

Marianne couldn’t avoid pathetically saying ‘My God.’  I went on without paying her any attention.

‘You’ll be with me one more year, no more no less.  But during this time you will behave how I expect you to.  Because you know what I expect from you, don’t you?’ I asked with another savage tug on the cord.

Marianne lifted her head and looked at me with her tormented eyes.  It was pathetic to watch her twisting … The ruler in the knees was a sublime invention…

‘You … Sir … Sir … expects me to serve … how you … how my Master … likes it…’ She offered with far too much respect for her to really mean it.

‘That was before, darling,’ I answered.  ‘Now and first of all I want obedience.  You will do everything I say.  What it is, isn’t important.  I will accept no excuses from the most blind and instant obedience.  Rule number two is respect.  My superiority to you as a person is evident and so you will only speak to me when I ask you and when I invite you to reply, and you will do it in the third person and always using my correct title: Sir.  The rest of the time you will bark like the bitch you are.  One bark means yes and two means no.  You need no more to serve me.  The third commandment is loyalty: you will never try to escape or hurt me or betray the confidence I may have shown in you.  And last, but certainly not least, the fourth commandment is about surrender.  You will do all I ask and you will enjoy it, you will do it pleasingly, complacently.  I will not accept half measures, most of all when your master decides to cum, do you understand?’
Marianne barked.  I wasn’t expecting it and I must admit that I liked it.  I told you before that I used to call her ‘clever clogs’.

‘Let’s try it.’

I showed her the needle again.

‘Do you know what this is?’


I gave her a loud slap.

‘Don’t you know how to talk like a person, stupid?’

She swallowed…

‘Yes … Sir…’ She replied her cheeks aflame.

‘That’s better.  And now I’m going to repeat the question … Do you know what this is?’

‘A nail, Sir.’

It surprised me that she called it a nail, in fact it was big and very thick.

‘You’re a clever little puppy…’ I congratulated her, ‘and as a prize you’ll ask your master to stick in your nipple.  Don’t you think that’s great?  It will be irrefutable proof of your obedience … Pain through discipline.  Control of your own emotions…’

Marianne started to cry disconsolately.  I love it when she cries, it’s … How can I put it?  So womanly … So feminine…

‘Please … No…’ She sobbed.

I gave her a back-hander this time.  Who did she think she was?

‘Are you thick?  Didn’t I just tell you that a bitch doesn’t speak it only barks?’


I pulled her nipple outwards holding it between my thumb and forefinger.  I squeezed harder than necessary to sensitise the flesh … I eased in the nail, just the tip, just the point.  Marianne writhed in her bonds indifferent to the pain in her knees for the first time.  I squeezed more and pulled more, a lot more … I bit my lips until they bled…

‘Ask for it or you’ll get fifteen more days locked up in here!’

It worked.  Through sobs and tears, but it worked…

‘Yes!’ she shouted simply.

I was about to slap her for daring to speak but my hands were busy.


The scream was really pathetic and the pleasure, the feeling of liberation that I felt when I stuck the nail in was something else.

There she was, her breast trembling, her nipple swollen, her face drenched with tears…

A rivulet of blood was running down her torso.  I crouched down and licked it up.  Being careful not to prick myself…

Believe me, owning a slave-girl is a responsibility, but it’s also a real pleasure...

A most fascinating and horrifying story
continued in USING MY SEX-SLAVE


Price 19.99Euro


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