Besides being an imaginary 20th Century author, I also write literary fiction under my real name. It can be a real time suck.
So you have two novels to look forward to: “Cloistered” set in the Vatican, and “Hercules and the Tripod of Thessaly”, set in ancient times. I wrote them in the evenings before bed, and had a pretty hard time falling asleep without a little…ahem…help. I have yet to publish either, but expect them soon. It will be an enormous weight off my shoulders.
The Catholic Church was no sacred cow for Peter. In his soon-to-be-published vintage smut book, Peter attacks the very foundations of the Vatican. In A Mass for the Massive, Vicente Picogrande is a priest with an elephantine cock. Under the auspices of being given special training, the horse hung padre is singled out and sent to be a sex slave in the basement of St. Peter’s in Rome. He is not permitted to leave his room except to service the insatiable lust of the cardinals. While Vicente enjoys the pleasures of the flesh, he prefers his freedom, and thus plans his escape.
Written before Vatican II, this scathing attack on the hypocrisy of religion is not merely a filthy one-handed novel; it is a cry for justice. Throughout the ordeal, Vicente and his hugely accommodating friend Franz never lose faith in the true Christian church. They take on the Cardinals, who have made a pact with a demon, and are triumphant.
We found the book in a box that contained the King James Bible, the Book of the Dead, and the Lesser Key of Solomon. Peter was not a religious person, but he was interested in belief structures. In an essay he published in After Dark magazine, he stated that he was not religious, but he did believe in the fundamental teachings of Christ. He wrote “The Catholic Church has become everything that Jesus stood against. It uplifts the wealthy, stomps on the poor, and condemns the very sins its priests commit.”
The book could have gone much deeper into theology and other serious themes, but it was, after all, a dirty book, not an academic textbook. Peter’s disdain for hypocrisy was all too clear in this gay hardcore erotica classic.
The book is in the hands of our intern, Paul, who is transcribing and editing the material for punctuation and other minor issues. We expect it to be ready to titillate by mid-June 2020.
–PS Publishers.
We released the Autobiography on Kindle as a pre-order, the book becomes available April 23, 2020. Get your copy before they sell out (kidding) – but seriously, ordering in advance is like Christmas in April. As we write this, we are cooped up in the house. If we hadn’t spent hours preparing the novel for publication, we would surely put in our order today. As it is, we know the book, and therefore Peter, like the palm of our hand. And if you like paperbacks, this steamy life story is available in paperback, but only in the US of A. Please note – the review process is still underway, so don’t be freaked out if you can’t find it for sale. If you are a Smashwords user, you can find the Autobiography here
Peter Schutes was long reputed to have written a tell-all tale of his life. There were fragments we knew about the author up until now that have blossomed into giant heaps of knowledge. Yes, he had an ENORMOUS penis. Far bigger than anything any of us imagined. If he were alive today, he would be a card-carrying member of the LPSG. His endowment ruled his life in so many ways. Because of his superhuman stature, he was a busy prostitute in 1930’s Hollywood. Apart from the historical fiction and fantasy erotica about male pregnancy, many of his novels and short stories we found and published draw directly from his life story. He was in Panama during the building of the canal. He worked at a rodeo. He worked in the coal mines of Harlan County, Kentucky and the copper mine in Anaconda, Montana. He was a ranch hand and a merchant marine. Now we just need to find his novels about prison, Hollywood hustlers, Mexican priests…you get the picture.
We here at PS publishers are scratching our heads. Peter has given away over 750 free copies of his classic “Bunkhouse Buddies” and yet so far not one person was brave enough to leave a review.
Perhaps all 750 are following the maxim “If you don’t have anything nice to say, it’s best to say nothing at all.” Maybe Smashwords doesn’t make it easy to leave a review. Perhaps we need to put more and better links in the book to make reviewing easier. The marketing landscape for smut has changed drastically in the past two decades.
Were this still the 20th century we would have 500 copies of the book printed up on the cheapest paper imaginable. Those cheap “pulp” novels would be marketed to dirty bookstores, who might reluctantly agree to take ten copies on consignment. Or once the demand for Peter’s books was established, we could sell them wholesale to the bookstore.
Free was never an option, because the printed word was still that: printed. Blogs appeared in the 1990s. Kindle appeared out of nowhere and revolutionized the publishing world. Now any hack who could type was a published author. How does one gather eyeballs in a world where pornographic films are all free?
One solution has been to give away free books, like “Bunkhouse Buddies”. Yes, you get eyeballs. The likelihood that one of those eyeballs will pay for other books is slim to none. Free book readers never pay.
Another solution that gathers a few eyeballs is to write in a niche erotic sub genre. Peter was a pioneer of MPREG. His “Daddy’s Boy” series, since it was written so long ago, is an outlier. He has no characters identified as “Omegas” nor is there any pegging nor tentacles nor werewolves. It’s just good old fashioned daddy-impregnates-son MPREG. One of those books is free, and the rest of the series sold well, despite a single bad review. They don’t make porn like they used to.
Our impassioned plea, gentle reader, is to do three things:
The photo below is a reminder of yesteryear. If you love paperback fiction, you must visit Peter’s Amazon Page, where many of his books can be bought to line your bookshelf in your reading room.
Peter Schutes publishing made mistakes. They tried to publish the first four Daddy’s Boy books as a collection in paperback on the largest book retailer in the universe. Here are the mistakes we made:
1. We used “incest” as a search term.
2. We added some raunchy illustrations.
3. We didn’t hold back in describing the erotic content in our blurbs.
4. Our cover showed a little bit of hand-drawn pubic hairs and a thick base of an otherwise covered penis.
5. Probably something else but they refused to say why it was permanently banned as a title.
Here are the steps we took to publish it anyway:
1. We changed the series name from “Daddy’s Boy Male Pregnancy” to “Appalachian Bred”
2. We hired a 5-dollar book cover designer to make the book look like a cliché rather than a work of art.
3. We sanitized the search terms and blurbs so they couldn’t be literally classified as raunchy porn.
4. We are publishing them one at a time as short Kindle stories rather than as a paperback collection.
5. We DIDN’T CHANGE A SINGLE WORD of the actual text.
Results:
So far, the first book is up and live on Amazon with no looming censorship. You can buy it here:
The disadvantage to making a book available for free is that you get people who aren’t really interested in the subject matter. The reviewer gave what could have been a glowing review, were it not for the single star out of a possible five. He didn’t like the subject matter and didn’t get Peter’s esthetic.
The grumpy troll writes: “This was just plain ol’ men with their horsedicks doing the nasty with every man within the family, significant others of family members, and “in-laws” . While also pooping out inbred babies and lactating.
There wasn’t a lot of plot or storyline other than very disturbing and descriptive anal (including inner pussy) sex with the aforementioned horsedicks, all in the name of love of course. ”
I don’t know about you, but that makes me ask, “So what is your complaint?” Those are the hallmarks of Peter’s pendulous prose. Sex with a big dick isn’t easy. Carrying a butt baby to term is pretty hellish.
There was most definitely a plot and storyline. But the reader missed it.
So, if you read the recently banned-from-Amazon Omnibus edition of “Daddy’s Boy, Male Pregnancy” on Smashwords, and you enjoy it, consider leaving a good review. That goes for all his books, too. Peter died in 1981 so he’s not coming back to rewrite these books to please a squeamish reader!
F. Scott Fitzgerald, JD Salinger, James Joyce, Vladimir Nabokov, Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, William S. Burroughs, George Orwell and now, Peter Schutes. What do they all have in common?
Yes they are all authors of outstanding fiction, but did you also know that every one of them has written prose that was banned from libraries, states, or even entire nations? Peter Schutes just had four novels banned from Amazon in 6 Markets. They contain no kiddy porn, no non-consensual sex, nor do they contain instructions for building a bomb. No, these books are “considered indecent” and “not in line with Amazon’s policies.”
We wrote Amazon a month before putting Daddy’s Boy, Peter’s historic Incestuous Male Pregnancy Series together as a single paperback (and Kindle) to ask for clear guidelines. The basic answer was “you will know when you have crossed a line, because your books will be blocked.”
So we published the perfectly legal smut with Amazon, and they blocked us. Furthermore, they said that any attempts to have the block removed would result in the entire author’s catalog being blocked for sale permanently.
Because consumers willingly allowed Amazon to slowly take over our lives in an Orwellian nightmare of Big Brother proportions, they are now the de facto church. They set the moral tone for 80% of all books published in the United States. They determine what is obscene and what is not. Don’t be fooled, they are bastards. We wrote to them to ask what unpublished “guideline” the books had violated, and they replied “The book is outside of our guidelines. It is not up to community standards. Any further inquiry will result in a complete removal of Peter Schutes’s content.”
Maybe the world doesn’t need another pseudo-historical MPREG incest romance, but we’d like to think it deserves the option to say, “I’m not buying that.”
On a lighter note, Smashwords (and all their downstream booksellers like Apple and Barnes & Noble) have published the books with the caveat that they are “Taboo Porn.” This is fair. Incest is taboo. Men getting pregnant by their own fathers is taboo. But it’s also extremely exciting. In honor of the four-book ban, PS Publishing will be putting together a compilation of the first four stories in the Daddy’s Boy Male Pregnancy series, set in the 1950’s through and 1960’s. This is the compilation we tried to publish first with Amazon.
In the Daddy’s Boy series, the “Omniverse” of current modern MPREG is replaced by what we now call the “Appalachiaverse.” Pregnant hillbilly men are hot as f*ck. Did we just censor ourselves? In addition, the first 10 copies are free. The books tend to fly off the electronic shelves, so act now.
The Omnibus Edition is live right now. Go to Peter’s Author’s Page on Smashwords or Directly to the book to get your copy now.
We unearthed a filthy fetish pile and of course we had to publish it. Daddy’s Boy, Male Pregnancy is the series name. It comes in two batches – the Appalachian 1960 era and the New York 1977-79 era. We have published the four books comprising the Appalachian quartet. The first one, Daddy’s Boy Is All Knocked Up, was free. There are only seven free copies of the eBook left, so we are releasing a secret code good only for readers of this site. That code will never expire. Use coupon code NK78P at checkout.
Next we will release the three follow up books. Then come two omnibus editions. It’s a busy month at PS Publishing!
a·poc·ry·phal
/əˈpäkrəfəl/
adjective
(of a story or statement) of doubtful authenticity, although widely circulated as being true.
“an apocryphal story about a former president”
synonyms: fictitious, made-up, untrue, fabricated, false, spurious
In the late 1970’s, rumors spread that Peter wrote an autobiography and later burned it along with most of his original texts. By digging through what has proven to be a Templeton-esque hoard of paper and office supplies, we have found and resurrected nearly a dozen texts from the master of pornographic prose. This morning, a miracle took place: we found the autobiography. Here is his autobiographical doodle on the cover:
We’re not fond of spoilers here at PS Publishing, so we’ll keep most of it under our hat. In truth, I’m not through reading the entire work. It seems that Peter found that special kind of man-on-man love quite a while before heading off to war in France. He frequented a tea room as a senior in high school. He fell in love at Harvard. Okay, this all smacks of spoilers, so we’re going to leave you with one last tidbit.
We’ll leave it to your imagination what Peter might have used these for:
The significance of this bookstrap escaped us at first. Daryn the intern, whose young imaginative mind is capable of great leaps, explained that the straps were for holding Peter’s manhood against his thigh.
“You said he fought in World War I. Do you think he could have made it without something to keep it in place? He would have fallen behind.”
Daryn, we are grateful for your rules of deduction. Reading his autobiography should shed further light on Peter’s “handicap” and his methods of dealing with it.
Our intern’s recent find gave our office the idea to scrape through old drawers in every room of the house. We also checked under rugs, lifted heavy appliances, and sent Roomba under every sofa. We came up empty. Peter’s purge had been thorough. He destroyed every photo, shredded every journal, and basically robbed the world of his persona. In 1980, it would have been hard for him to imagine his work would be celebrated. It is a tragedy.
Peter moved to the San Fernando Valley in 1962. Close friends said he wanted a swimming pool and Santa Monica was too chilly. His tiny office in Santa Monica Canyon held the bulk of his paperwork, which turned out to be nothing but utility bills, blank packing slips and random matchbooks and other ephemera. He destroyed all personal correspondence. It was only through rumors and secondary sources that we learned as much as we did.
We struck gold, however, in his Van Nuys garage. There is a mounted wall shelf with a hinged door, like a wide, short cupboard. It hung open, empty except for exhaust dust from nearby motorways. Long dismissed, it caught our eye during our mad scramble for more materials. The back of the cabinet was painted cardboard. It dislodged easily, revealing a hidden treasure.
There was a typewritten note that said, “Javi, if you are reading this, it means you do love me after all. I knew it all along.”
We are still sorting through the small cache of materials, but we can’t contain our excitement. We found the apocryphal autobiography, which we will need to publish as soon as we are able. Peter annotated everything for the mysterious Javi.
The photo below explains the move from the West Side to the Valley, and it clarifies, without doubts, the truth behind his enormous endowment. It is easy to see why he was so insistent on calling it a handicap. He was remarkably fit at 66 years old when the photo was taken. Unanswered is the question as to who took the photograph. The rest speaks for itself.
We will unveil more artifacts as the weeks and months go by. Many tie in to the upcoming releases “I Was a Slave In a Roman Laundromat” and “Seamen,” both due to be released in 2018 or early 2019.
