Nympho Camp

Discover the Depraved World of Nympho Camp

A #1 Amazon Charts Bestseller (BDSM Erotica, Erotic Thrillers) for two weeks in November 2024 BEFORE IT WAS BANNED.

Deep in the San Bernardino Mountains, a compound lies shrouded in secrecy--a sinister training ground where captives are transformed into living commodities, their bodies and souls molded to cater to the depraved appetites of the wealthy and powerful. NYMPHO CAMP.

In the glittering heart of Los Angeles, where dreams of stardom burn as bright as the California sun, predators lie in wait. Three beautiful young women, their lives consumed by an insatiable hunger for carnal pleasure, find themselves drawn to the promises of "Sexaholic Women's Anonymous"--a supposed path to redemption that hides a far darker truth. This is the gateway to NYMPHO CAMP.

Olivia Bond has written several popular novels under another name. Nympho Camp leans into women's fantasies about giving up control, but this is all just fantasy and Olivia would never condone this kind of behavior in the real world without mutual consent. If this kind of material bothers you, don't buy it.

Read a sample below.

This book was "too hot for Amazon," but you can buy it here.

Nympho Camp

(For Adults Only)

Since the room was spinning anyway, and everyone else had left, Tanya Hart took a moment to lean against the bar and study the poster that the regular customers enjoyed so much. Jamie Cardoza, who owned the bar, had put it up there two weeks ago because he said it would make her his most popular bartender and get her bigger tips. And it probably did since it was an ad for a hardcore porn movie, Desperately Bad Housewives, and she was featured on the cover wearing practically nothing, her naturally large breasts prominently displayed. It was her one big moment of fame. If she were a different sort of person, she might worry about the attention the poster could bring her, but she had learned not to worry about such things. The movie was now ten years old and she looked different without all that makeup. She had been cast as one of the leads in the film right out of high school when her career options were quite limited, but she had never worked in the adult film business again, so it was rare for people to recognize her until Jamie had put her poster on the wall.

Empty bottles and glasses clinked as she collected them from the polished wood bar, the remnants of the night's revelry. The air smelled of beer and desperation. Her rumpled brown hair cascaded over the stiff collar of her white button-down shirt, and her fingers trembled as she brushed it back from her face. She adjusted her miniskirt to make sure it covered her butt before she went outside—it helped her get bigger tips, but she wasn’t stupid enough to display her assets on her nightly walk home. With each unsteady step, her stiletto heels clicked against the floor, and she wondered if she should have one more shot of tequila before she left, finally deciding against it and promising herself to cut back on her alcohol, particularly at work. Her feet hurt from standing behind the bar all night serving drinks. The rear door to the alley loomed before her, a gateway back to the dingy apartment she longed to escape. She only had to walk a few blocks to get home, which most people would have thought was dangerous in this neighborhood at this time of night, but she had never worried about such things. She was full of liquid courage.

She stepped into the alley and turned around to lock the door. The key, cold and indifferent, resisted her fumbling attempts to use it. As she struggled with the lock, a wave of drunken wooziness washed over her, blurring the edges of reality. Her heart pounded, full of self-loathing.

The night had draped the city in a cloak of obscurity, and Tanya didn’t see the danger lurking in the shadows. Jessie Angel, wearing spike-heeled boots and a tight black leather outfit that hugged her athletic frame, leaned against a sleek black SUV, its tinted windows reflecting the fractured glow of a streetlight flickering overhead. Beside her, Armando's muscular figure radiated confidence, his forehead decorated with a skull tattoo from his former gang. Machine, his stature diminished by the towering presence of Armando, bore the marks of his own brand of madness, the rattlesnake tattoo on his scalp a signal of the venom coursing through his veins.

Tanya took a deep breath and held it, finally managing to turn the key and lock the door, a small victory overshadowed by the lurking threat behind her. She leaned her forehead against the door for a moment and took a deep breath to steady herself.

Jessie’s dark eyes sparkled with calculated intent as she watched Tanya’s back, the soft curls that framed her face doing little to soften the hard lines of her predatory smile. Armando and Machine stood like sentinels, their presence feeding the slow-burn tension simmering in the air.

The alleyway was dark and claustrophobic, and it seemed to close in on Tanya as she turned and stumbled into the night's embrace. The flickering light from above, a beacon for moths and misdeeds, cast an eerie glow on the asphalt that was animated by the darting giant shadows of moths. She could hear her own uneven breaths, and the distant hiss of late-night traffic in the busy city.

"Remember me, Tanya?" Jessie Angel's voice slithered through the darkness, approaching with the grace of a cobra preparing to strike.

Recognition dawned on Tanya, her eyes widening ever so slightly. Memories surfaced—a circle of women, the scent of stale coffee mixed with the fragility of shared secrets. The Sexaholics meeting, where she'd first seen Jessie, dressed in leather as she was now. Tanya had attended the meeting because she had finally decided she had been drinking too much and flirting too much with men at the bar so she would get better tips, and she had taken some of them out into the back alley for a quick fuck. Those men had left her great tips, and she needed the money. Then, one night at the bar, she had blacked out, waking up the next morning on the public beach without her clothes, sore and bruised from strangers who had used her body while she was unconscious.

"Jessie," Tanya said. Surprised and disoriented, she found herself caught in confusion by this unexpected reunion.

"Ah, you remember," Jessie purred. She stepped closer, her presence an intoxicating blend of danger and desire. "We can help each other, sweet Tanya. I’ve been worried about you since the meeting. All you have to do is come with me, and we’ll take good care of you. The Serenity Mountain Retreat won’t cost you a thing, and you’ll feel so much better. Just say yes."

The alley held its breath, awaiting Tanya's response, as the city beyond remained blissfully ignorant of the sinister events unfolding in its shadowy corners.

“I told you, I can’t. I have to work or I’ll lose this job.” She glanced at the two men and frowned, wondering if she might be hallucinating. “And how did you find me? Why are you here?”

The seductive charm that had clung to Jessie's voice evaporated like mist, replaced by a chilling steeliness. Her eyes narrowed, dark and unforgiving. In one fluid motion, Jessie's hand sliced through the air, a silent command to her lurking enforcers.

Armando's bulk loomed over Tanya, his muscular frame an ominous wall between her and escape. Machine skulked close behind, eyes glittering with a cold anticipation. Panic fluttered in Tanya's chest as they advanced, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

"Easy, chica," Armando growled as his hands shot out and spun her around, pulling Tanya's arms behind her with a bruising force. She stumbled, her unsteady legs betraying her—a puppet with cut strings.

"Let's make sure you're not hiding anything," Machine said, his fingers digging between the buttons of her dress shirt. With a savage jerk, the fabric tore and buttons flew, exposing the pale skin beneath. Tanya gasped, so startled she didn’t know how to respond.

"Check her," Jessie commanded, her tone devoid of warmth as she watched the scene unfold.

Machine's touch was rough, invasive, as he pretended to search for weapons, running his hands up her short skirt. His fingers roamed with a thoroughness that left Tanya feeling helpless as she struggled against Armando’s grip.

"Nothing on her," Armando declared, his voice echoing off the brick walls as they shoved Tanya back against the cold surface of the SUV.

"Good," Jessie said.

The flickering streetlight cast them all in a sinister glow. Tanya's breath came in shallow bursts, her mind trying to think of a way out, even as her body betrayed her with its drunken lethargy.

Tanya's world twirled sickeningly as Armando’s iron grip spun her around. The alley swam in her vision, a blur of darkness pierced by the stuttering streetlight above. Machine’s breath was hot on her neck, his hands predatory as they snaked to her front, yanking at her bra with a swift brutality that spoke of experience. Fabric snapped, the sound shockingly loud in the quiet night, freeing her breasts. Tanya's bare skin erupted in goosebumps, not from the chill but from sheer dread.

“Man, those are nice ones,” Machine said, staring.

The pain came next, sharp and cruel, as Machine squeezed her breasts, his fingers digging into soft flesh with a possessive force that stole her breath away. She was strong, but her muscles were useless against the alcohol that dulled her reflexes and the fear that paralyzed her heart. Her vulnerability was laid bare, a raw wound for them to poke and prod at will.

Jessie watched, her gaze hungry as she leaned against the SUV, arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes took in Tanya's torment with a twisted glee, savoring each whimper that escaped from Tanya's lips. For a moment, it almost seemed as if Jessie were considering joining in, just to feel the rush of control over another's shattered boundaries.

"Enough," Jessie finally said. "She's clean. We don't have time for your games."

Machine growled in protest but obeyed, releasing Tanya with reluctance—his parting gift, a bruising pinch of her nipple that made her jump and would surely leave its mark. Tanya's relief was short-lived, however, as Jessie stepped forward, the threat in her posture unmistakable. A scream started to escape from Tanya’s throat.

"Sorry, sweetheart, can't have you making a scene," Jessie said as her fist connected with Tanya's jaw, an explosion of pain that splintered through her head, turning the dim alley into a light show. Her scream was strangled by the impact and the sudden onset of darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.

Armando and Machine moved with practiced ease, hoisting Tanya's limp form between them as if she weighed no more than a rag doll. They tossed her into the back of the SUV, her body landing with a thud that would've hurt if she hadn’t been so close to blacking out.

"I wanna play with her," Machine complained, his voice laced with a whine that sounded like a child denied a toy.

"Keep it in your pants," Armando replied, bending over to pluck Tanya’s torn dress shirt and bra off the ground. "There's plenty of time up at Serenity Mountain."

“I’ll do what I want with it,” Machine said, taking a step closer to him.

"Shut up, both of you," Jessie snapped, authority radiating from her as she slid into the driver's seat. "We're moving out."

As the SUV roared to life, the shadows in the alley seemed to stretch and reach for Tanya, tendrils of darkness promising an embrace far colder than any she had known. Her last conscious thought was a silent plea for escape, even as the blackness claimed her and the vehicle sped away, leaving behind nothing but the echo of its departure and the flickering streetlight that continued its lonely vigil in the night.

Nympho Camp is dark, hot, and spicy! The characters are captivating, you might say, and the storyline keeps you hooked. Great for anyone looking for a wild read!

Angela P.

★★★★★