The Randomness Of Selina : Year 2 Day 20 – Erotica Writers Don’t Want To Fuck You

I’ve mentioned it before but it appears some aren’t getting the message.

So, for the benefit of the people at the back let me repeat myself

Erotica writers don’t want to fuck you.

I should just have to stop there and say no more. After all, erotica is a legitimate literary genre then basically you are asking an author for sex.

That really isn’t good form. I mean you might have the opportunity to meet your favourite author at a bookshop. You will probably say to them what the story meant to you, get the book signed and that’s it.

You wouldn’t pause and say ‘Aaand so you fancy nipping out the back for a quickie.’

Yet that it exactly what erotica authors have to deal with on a daily basis, and it can be exhausting.

Many will receive messages that go something like this

– Just read your story. You’re a great writer.

– Thank you very much.

– The sex scenes were so hot.

– Thank you

– I got very aroused

– Okay

– I’m still hard now so…..

Look I know there is a growing sense of entitlement with consumers of entertainment but this really takes it to the extreme.

These horny guys are basically saying ‘How dare you arrange words in a carefully constructed sentence which has led to me having an erection. You are now responsible for it!’

It doesn’t happen in other genres. I stand to be corrected but I doubt that Stephen King gets loads of messages that says ‘That story was really scary. Now you must come round my house, check under my bed and sing my a lullaby until I’m asleep.’

There is a horrifically incorrect assumption that because a female erotica writer writes about sex she must be very much up for it.

If you honestly believe that then get your hand off your dick and listen up – erotica is mainly the work of glorious fiction. They are stories not invitations.

Writers like to engage with readers. It allows them to grow and improve. They just don’t want to see your dick with a request to fuck it.

Respect the writer’s boundaries. Unless a writer has in her bio ‘will fuck for reviews’ then understand the obvious etiquette.

Do not get sleazy in her DMs. Do not assume because they write about sex they are happy to talk about it in detail while you have a cheeky wank.

Just be normal. Just read their work, say if you liked it and leave it there.

We clear?

The Thoughts Of Selina II : Violence Good. Sex Bad

Following on from my Opinion on the present state of the Erotica genre I wanted to explore a little further a particular theme surrounding that.

I absolutely love Star Wars but fun fact after watching the entire saga you would have witnessed the death of trillions of people.

But that’s okay because it’s never really gratuitous. Sure genocide occurs, millions of people wiped out but it’s ‘oh well. When they going to start shooting stormtroopers again?’

The body count for The Fast and The Furious franchise runs into the hundreds. The violence in those movies are undeniably gratuitous, they add nothing to the storyline and only serves to makes those scenes more action packed.

But gratuitous doesn’t mean explicit. It’s comic book violence and is totally acceptable. Plus a lot of them were bad guys and deserved to die.

Yet movies such as Kick Ass and any Tarantino film contain gruesome scenes of violence. They are depicted in such a way that it leads very little to the imagination.

Indeed often they are both gratuitous and explicit. Yet these movies are lauded as being fantastic works of art, scoring highly on Rotten Tomatoes.

These random acts of gratuitous explicit violence are not limited to movies and are also a plot device in both comic books and literature.

But these are harmless action and adventure stories. We don’t need to know the socio-economic reasons which led a particular person to become a henchman for some evil bastard. He speaks with a foreign accent , he’s got a gun, he deserves to die.

That’s right isn’t it? It’s just a bit of fun. These scenes are infrequent and whilst not necessary they are, after all, exciting…..Lighten up it’s escapism.

And I would agree. There are far more qualified people around to comment on the reasons for our desensitisation to violence and it’s not the point of this opinion.

My point is, if it’s okay with violence then why don’t we have the same attitude towards sex?

Romance or chick lit stories often opt for the ‘Star Wars Implied Genocide Method’. We lead up to the sex but never really see it.

Just as we never saw all the kids playing on Alderaan before it was obliterated or witness janitor Clive’s final day before retirement on the Death Star, dreaming of spending more time with his grandchildren before Luke blew him up.

In a lot of thrillers and chick lit the main character may be having frequent gratuitous sex. But that is still okay because it’s not explicit, right?

Yet the moment you describe in detail the natural act of lovemaking and dare to mention words like ‘cock’ or ‘pussy’. The Erotica label is slapped on it and you are banished to the corner.

(Well that’s not exactly true – if you are an independent author you’ll be punished. The differing attitude towards mainstream authors is a whole other story.)

Look I get that some readers don’t like sex scenes. But that’s not the point. I don’t like Thomas Hardy novels, it doesn’t mean I’m advocating banishing all his work from ever being found on internet searches.

We all have our own preferences and tolerances of what we read and watch. Yet as previously discussed Erotica is automatically labelled as wrong. Dirty. Disgusting.

You want to watch a guy kill hundreds of people (including scores of collateral damage) then grab a beer and settle down. You want to watch people have sex then please leave town you depraved monster.

There is a continuing movement to push ‘porn’ further into the dark recesses of the web. If Governments get their way it will become more and more difficult to watch porn. Those who write under the erotica category are and will continue to find themselves caught up with this apparent cleansing of the internet.

However, on the likes of YouTube all the gratuitous explicit violent scenes from these mainstream movies are just a click away.

Sorry Explicit Sex Scene is blocked but you may wish to watch Top Ten Best Gruesome Action Movie Deaths Of All Time.

Violence good. Sex bad.

Yet sex is the most natural thing in the world. As I write this people are having sex. As you read this people are having sex.

Whilst I accept that there are also acts of violence being carried out at the same time, what is so wrong with escaping to a place where people are having sex?

Why is it fine that you can freely and without judgement enter a world where non-descript prostitutes are murdered as a cheap plot device, yet to explicitly describe the growing sexual relationship of a couple is disgusting.

And if you dare make that couple the same sex….Boy, have you crossed a line. Away with you must go, you purveyor of absolute filth.

Well written ‘erotica’ explores something that can’t be achieved by implied sex – how that person feels at the time.

Whether it be positive thoughts of desire, lust, happiness and passion or more negative concerns such as disgust or regret, they form part of the story. It maybe explicit but it’s not gratuitous. It is an exploration of their character.

If it’s justified to show explicit violence to further a plot then the same courtesy has to be extended to sex scenes.

Whilst some will include an explicit sex scene just to simply evoke arousal that cannot be said of every story that features an explicit sex scene. Yet the likes of Amazon will, for the sole reason it is simply explicit, banish it to the dark corners of it’s site.

The truth is everyone thinks about sex. People are rightly curious about sex and well written ‘erotica’ can provide some comfort, offer some answers; Rather than send them down the rabbit hole of depravity it can help them process their own emotions and attitudes towards sex. It is a positive thing.

Being positive about our sexuality is something that should be encouraged and not hidden away in the corner.

At some point in our lives we will all have been curious about sex. The same cannot be said for being curious about standing on a moving bus and taking out two vehicles with a rocket launcher.

If you are curious about that then you really need to be having sex.

The Thoughts Of Selina I: The Future Of Erotica & The Need For A Purge

In my continuing quest to make this blog a wonderful place to be I thought I would occasionally throw in the odd opinion about some topic.

For my opening attempt I want to look at the current state of Erotica.

Those writing in this genre are having a bit of a hard time recently with the forums for their work seemingly burying it as deep as they possibly can.

If this continues then it will be so difficult to find an erotica writer’s writing. This would be for the simple reason it has a bit of sex in it.

Erotica has enjoyed a bit of a golden period mainly in part to a combination of the phenomenon of Fifty Shades and Amazon KDP.

Fifty Shades was a huge success and no one can take that away from the author – well done to her. But let’s be honest, it’s a bit rubbish. A repetitive diatribe of grammatically incorrect erotic cliche. In short, she’s done alright but in the long term has done the genre more harm than good.

I have no doubt that people sitting at home thought ‘I can do that’ because certainly Fifty Shades is hardly an unobtainable literary masterpiece. Yet that has proven to be a problem.

Scores of wannabe writers with not much respect for the genre looking to make a quick buck with some crudely written smut

With Amazon KDP it provided those people the opportunity to do that. But the unforeseen consequence of tapping into this phenomenon is there is a lot of noise. That makes it difficult for any indie author with a great story to get heard.

It’s hard for a self published author. They have to do everything – writing, cover art and their own marketing often with the most limited of budget.

So I offer this thought what if Amazon etc just did away with the Erotica category. Even further that erotica or smut were not terms to be used to describe a book.

It would be terrible, right? How would you find your target audience?

In my opinion I think it would be the best thing that could happen.

Firstly it would do away with the dabblers. Those cluttering up the bandwidth with poorly written erotica short stories that really are nothing more than crudely created sex scenes.

A purge would leave those who actually want to do this, who care about writing, who are good at it still standing.

The massive problem with Amazon KDP is nothing goes out of print. There’s too much choice and consumers don’t like that and so opt for the safety of the mainstream.

If it were up to me I would have all ebooks published have a shelf life which when expired would have to be renewed by the author.

Thousands and thousands of stories keep entering the system and never go away.

Imagine walking into a book shop where every book ever written was published – a delight for some but a horror for the vast majority. They simply would not know where to start.

Secondly, should there even be an erotica category? What actually is it?

Well, erotica has many definitions but loosely it is a work of art designed to be sexually arousing.

So those one sex scene short stories I was talking about , yeh they are probably erotica but does that term apply to anything that may have an explicit sex scene in it?

That can’t be right. If you’re a guy and get a boner to a James Patterson sexy thriller is he now erotica?

I am proudly part of a community on Twitter of some of the most talented indie author who largely write under the erotica category.

I certainly do not speak for them but I would guess that a large number of them publish under erotica for fear of falling foul of the strict guidelines on content.

But are they writing erotica? No. They write romance, thrillers, horrors, sci-fi. Yet their stories include explicit sex scenes and so banished to the dark corner of Amazon they must go.

My current story A Song Of Tyler & Bryce begun life as a satire that those authors are labelled as inappropriate and hid away yet George RR Martin is lauded for stories that include incest, under age sex and plentiful non consensual sex.

If an indie author wrote those themes in a modern day setting they would be punished. Yet set it in fake olden times it’s perfectly acceptable.

I would also add that not once following the non-consensual sex does Martin ever explore how the woman may be feeling. Yet the big bad band of erotica writers dare to tell you what is on her mind before, during and after sex and they find themselves banished to the corner.

Whilst we could get angry about the injustice of this ludicrous hypocrisy I believe we should take note.

I refuse to accept that this world is made up of nothing but prudes. Mainstream literature, TV and film is littered with sex scenes. Overall society doesn’t seem to have a problem with sex.

You watch any HBO drama and the main characters are banging away whenever they can. Yet that wins Emmy’s

I believe it’s time to recategorise our work. If it is set in fake olden times it’s Fantasy. Modern Day it’s romance. A dark twist it’s a thriller or horror. They’re fucking in space it’s Sci-Fi.

Yes put the warnings that it contains explicit scenes (that would make you a better person than George RR Martin), change your cover to make it more, shall we say, user friendly.

If indeed there is a battle looming then prepare now. Play them at their own game.

If you are reading this and thinking but all I have to sell my book is a hot sex scene, then you may struggle if this trend continues (and I would suggest it’s only going to get worse).

But review your work, revise it. That’s the beauty of Amazon KDP etc your story can evolve.

Ask yourself can I add some scenes leading up to the explicit sex. In other words make it more mainstream.

Because Amazon etc cannot censor you for having an explicit sex scene. It’s a slippery slope that would have to include mainstream authors (including one Mr Martin) so it’s never going to happen.

My advice is to welcome a purge. Let’s encourage a reduction of noise and get your stories out there where they should be. Not buried because of some archaic categorisation but available to read.

Rightly or wrongly there is still a stigma about erotica – that it is cheap, nasty, dirty.

That is not how I view the stories I have read. They are well plotted, thought provoking with strong characters who are often female.

Yes they have explicit sex in it. But so fucking what. So does Game of Thrones.

The Recipe Of Selina

My blog has had something of a refit and during the process I thought to myself why can’t I be like all the other bloggers. You know the ones who blog about fashion or food.

I fear my reputation as a blogger may be limited to writing smutty things…..and squirrels.

So in order to diversify I’m going to tell you how to make a glorious Tiramisu Gateau.

Which is very simple to make and I’m sure I can tell you how to do it without being rude. So here it goes

INGREDIENTS

25g butter, melted

4 medium eggs

165g caster sugar

100g plain flour

15g cornflour

200g plain chocolate

150 ml very strong coffee

100ml Tia Maria

300ml Double Cream

1/2 tablespoon of vanilla essence.

500g marscapone at room temperature. You might have your rooms very cold or really hot so no clue what constitutes ‘room temperature’.

METHOD

Preheat the over to 180 degrees Celsius or 160 if you have a fan (I presume that’s a fan assisted oven and not that you have someone who always likes your Tweets). Anyway it’s Gas Mark 4…Yeh no clue either.

So next you need to grease up a 22cm cake tin (preferably the springform one). So I really want you to lubricate it. That’s it let your fingers move over the lubrication. Feels good doesn’t it? It’s always important to lubricate well

Next put the eggs and 115g of the sugar in a bowl and whisk until pale, thick and creamy. Mmm just look at that creamy goodness. You just want to feel it on your tongue don’t you? Not yet.

Sieve the flour and cornflour together then stick half of it in that glorious creamy mix. Put in half the butter and the rest of the flour followed by the remaining butter.

Pour into a tin and bake for 20-25 minutes. While you are waiting why not slip out your generic e-reader and indulge into some naughty erotica. For this particular dessert I would recommend some Amber or if your fan assisted Dani

There is a good chance you may have become distracted and so repeat the above.

When golden you need to let it cool. So why not chill out and read my Overlord Unicorned Squirrels

Okay back to it.

Grate the chocolate. Mix the coffee and the Tia Maria together.

Cut the cake into 3 layers. Line the base and sides with cling film.

Now using the whisk I want you to really whip that cream, vanilla and remaining sugar to soft peaks then fold into the marscapone. Talking about vanilla, you know what’s not vanilla? stuff that Wednesday writes.

You may wish to consult these books from Harley about best whipping techniques.

So really whip it …. that’s it… Harder! Don’t stop….Keep going…Harder…… So good. Don’t you ever fucking stop doing that. That’s it. More. More. MORE!!!Mmmm I love it when you do it like that.

You want to do it some more? Do you? Yeh you got it in you? Mmmm , well go on then. I see you all flushed there thinking about my soft peaks.

Next, place 1 sponge layer in the base. Sprinkle over about a third of the coffee mix, then spread with a third of the marscapone mix.

That’s it really spread it. Mmmm look at you spreading that creamy mixture everywhere. Mmmm just want to lick it all up.

Next sprinkle over a third of the chocolate. Repeat twice.

Yeh, that’s right you keep sprinkling and spreading that goodness. Make sure you cover everywhere. You got enough to do that, baby? Mmmm good you sprinkle that sweet stuff till there is no more left.

Then just chill for two hours. So pop on Netflix or have sex or just masturbate. Whatever you wish because the cake is done.

You know what I think this new more sensible blog worked really well.

The Saving of Selina 

Six months. That is how long I was with Keith, checking off the items  from his naughty bucket list.

I was feeling rather upbeat about this arrangement. I had seen the list, we had agreed upon which ones I would do plus Keith had promised it would be more than just sex.

On that front he was certainly true to his word, treating me to lavish meals, nights out at the theatre and whatever else I cared to ask for. I even managed to drag him along to a comic convention, where he spent most of the time gazing at the variety of cosplayers before promptly amending his sex bucket list.

Keith ,I don’t remember ‘ must be dressed as Batgirl’ on this one?’

It wasn’t the case that he would take me out somewhere as a reward for a sterling sexual performance. Indeed, sometimes he just wanted to have my company during a meal.

No Keith, a guy buys me dinner then I suck his cock..Thats how it works, right?’ 

Whilst it was all rather gentlemanly of him I was concerned that he was becoming too attached. That was certainly something I wished to avoid. I had no intention of being a slutty stepmother to someone who was the same age as me.

No matter how kind, attentive and considerate Keith may have been I was not after any relationship. Although he was showing me how a guy should treat a girl I was more focused on seeing through my part of the deal. I was determined that neither of us would renege on our agreement; even if regular lunch at the Savoy was quite pleasant.

The first of Keith’s fantasies to be fulfilled was to have sex in his office. He had it all planned; indeed, Keith would often brief me as to expectations of the fantasy. I did not mind,  as such was his innocent charm,  I found it mildly amusing as he bumbled over describing the sex act he wanted performed. Sometimes, I would play dumb or pretend I hadn’t heard something so he’d have to repeat it again.

The only slight downside to Keith’s pre-sex briefings (or pervy priming as I affectionately referred to them) was that the events lacked an element of spontaneity.

So when I arrived in his office,  wearing a long overcoat to disguise the fact that underneath was nothing more than bra, panties and stockings, I was immediately struck by how empty and tidy his desk was.

Keith had confirmed during the briefing that were going to have sex on his desk.  Clearly, he had spent the time when everyone else had gone home to put everything neatly away.

There was to be no passionate sweeping of papers as we ripped each other’s clothes off.  No, it was all choreographed to the point I had expected to see markings on the desk like some horny game of Twister.

Sorry, does my left buttock go here?’

Nevertheless the creator of these fantasies was having a wonderful time. I had reconciled previously that I would never experience true sexual pleasure. My role in all this was to facilitate someone else’s carnal desires and I was genuinely happy with that arrangement.

If I hadn’t been performing these well planned erotic adventures I would be having some random guy between my legs for no other reason than I felt compelled to do so. This was far more pleasant.

Of course such was my reliance on Keith’s briefings that I didn’t really do much thinking for myself. So as he got his breath back following his orgasm he suggested we go have some dinner.

“But I’m just in my underwear Keith” I pointed out.

“Oh” he replied “Did you not bring a change of clothes?”

As the months went on I felt the happiest I had been for a long time. My mind was flourishing in the brightness, having been stifled for so long under the dark clouds that had consumed me.

When I was with Keith I did not experience any feelings of anger, disgust or frustration that had led to culmination of the storm clouds and the manifestation of that feeling of numbness.

Perhaps the only slight frustration I felt was during one of Keith’s bucket list fantasies when he wanted to have sex whilst his favourite jazz tune played.

Once I had got past the distraction of whether the piano was actually  being played correctly, it all seemed to go a little chaotic.

Keith seemed determined to have sex with me to the rhythm of the music, yet there seemed to be no actual rhythm. Cymbals would crash and trumpets blare which sounded like a cat being strangled. Keith’s movements inside me replicated the cacophony of chaos that filled the room. If someone had been watching they would be forgiven in thinking that this fifty year old was having a fit.

The fantasy had been to make love to this one particular tune but after twenty minutes of random crash, bangs and wallops I brought Keith, who was happily humming away, closer to me and whispered

“Hun I think this is a different tune?”

Without breaking from his haphazard rhythm he replied “No. Still the same one.”

That evening I certainly had admiration for Keith’s stamina but cannot say that I had a new found love for jazz.

The final bucket list fantasy was left purposely to last, not by me but by Keith. I never asked why, perhaps he wanted to end our time together with a bang. Keith wanted to get a little kinky.

I was unsurprised that this particular fantasy would appear on the list; around that time it was all the rage. Thousands of sexually repressed British people were showing how much they loved their partner by tieing them up and whacking them.

I had been tied up before but rarely made a habit of it. Although I had no control over my compulsion to have random sex I still retained some semblance of intelligence. I was not suddenly going to let a guy I had just met tie me up so I could not escape, or at the very least kick him in the balls. But I had been with Keith for months, he was kind and I trusted him.

My arse had been spanked countless times during sex and some of my one nighters would get a little rough. Nevertheless, Keith was a gentle soul and doubted he could hurt me.

Therefore I had agreed to this particular fantasy expecting that this would all be performed rather half-heartedly and that Keith would lose interest halfway through and just revert back to normal sex.

However he had planned this quite methodically and wanted to insert a little roleplay into this fantasy. Here was where we encountered the first problem.

I had grown up in comic book stores and had listened to numerous heated discussions about plot holes and the problem with retcons.

I would never participate in such discussions but clearly some of the fanboy ranting must have rubbed off on me because I was unhappy with the plot of Keith’s fantasy.

“So you will be a naughty secretary that I punish for making mistakes.” said Keith.

I stifled a giggle as I watched Keith describe his naughty idea in such a bumbling manner. However, I felt this storyline needed to be clarified.

“Wait. What sort of mistakes?” I enquired.

Keith was not expecting any enquiry into the detail of his fantasy and stuttered his response “Ermmm.. You know, not filing properly, late.. That sort of stuff.”

“So I’m incompetent?” I replied

“Well.. Yes I guess you are.”

“So not naughty just incompetent.” I stated.

“Well… No.. You’re naughty and incompetent” bumbled Keith.

“Not doing the filing properly and that does not make me naughty it makes me shit at my job.”

Keith went to say something but I continued “I mean if I can’t do my job properly then you give me warnings… training… notify HR… Not fucking flog me. That’s not in the Company Manual”

“HR don’t know and you are too concerned about keeping your job to say anything to anyone.” Keith said, desperately trying to maintain the simplicity of this fantasy.

“Fuck off. My job is to do filing. You start threatening to spank me cos I’m shit at it.. I’ll bloody leave straight away.”

Keith smiled trying to find a compromise  “Look let’s just say I am a kinky boss that likes to punish poor workers that way.”

“Did you do that to Roger when he broke the photocopier?” I replied.

“Who’s Roger?” Keith asked, looking a little confused.

“Just someone I added to this scenario to give it some realism”

Keith held his hands up “There is no Roger.”

“He’s got a wife and two kids you know” I added

“SELINA!” Keith exclaimed before smiling and calmly he replied “OK you’re not incompetent just slutty and you make these mistakes purposely  to get me to punish you. ”

“So why don’t I just ask you to spank me?” I suggested.

“Excuse me?” asked Keith.

“Rather than just pretend to be shit at my job why don’t I just bend over your desk and say ‘spank me big boy'”

“Because….” Keith thought for a moment, sighed and went and got a drink.

The evening of the fantasy I emerged from the bathroom wearing black thigh high stockings and a basque, all finished off with a choker.  If there were any doubt what Keith intended to do then the fact my bare arse was clearly on show was a bit of a giveaway.

“I don’t think this is really suitable office attire, Keith” I said.

“We’ve moved on from that scenario now.” he replied.

Since my geeky necessity for plot perfection Keith had not shared with me the details of his new revised fantasy. My ex Steven used to do that a lot but Keith was kinder and gentler. I was certain I had nothing to worry about. At the end of the day I was simply submitting myself to a guy I’ve known for just a few months holding a paddle in his hand.

There was a pillar that separated his lounge from the hallway and Keith chose that location to tie me up.  Facing the pillar he begun to bind my hands and ankles.

“Oh… We need a safe word” he said.

“How about ‘Stop fucking hitting me you wanker'” I suggested.

Ignoring my comment he provided the name of one of his favourite Jazz musicians as our safe word.

With me bound and nowhere to go Keith stalked round me. He was naked save for a silk robe that did little to hide his modesty.

” You’ve been a bad girl.” He offered that cliché in a rather unconvincing way but followed it up with a crack of the paddle on my bare buttocks.

It was at that moment of the hard leather colliding with my soft skin that I realised something.  It was something I had not really thought about. All the rough sex and scrapes I had gotten into in my life it had never occurred to me until that moment.

I don’t like pain.

THWACK!!

I really don’t like pain.

“Fuckin’ Hell Keith” I screamed

“Yeh you like that don’t you? You naughty girl” he replied, now in full role play mode.

“No it fucking hurts” I screamed with  tears forming in my eyes.

But Keith did not relent and why would he? This was his fantasy and I hadn’t said the safe word.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Pride was not the reason I didn’t scream out the safe word. Nor was it because I was enjoying it; having my arse beaten was definitely not my idea of a fun Friday night.  However determined I was to fulfill Keith’s fantasies I had no hesitation in calling it off.

No, the reason I did not was because I wasn’t paying attention when he told me. I probably should have written it down but that was difficult on account of my hands being tied up at the time.

For all Keith knew my cries of pain were an act; an exaggerated performance to bring to life his fantasy.  He wanted to punish me for being slutty.  He wanted to punish me for being incompetent and failing to do the most basic things in life correctly. Art imitating life. Perhaps there were  reasons I wasn’t shouting out the safe word.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

My buttocks stung and the soreness of my skin made each whack more painful. Keith was relentless, his normal kind demeanour had transformed into something more sinister. Was he trying to really hurt me? Or was he simply performing a role. Just all part of the make believe.

As I stood there, bound, being flogged an image flashed through my mind. It was an image that I had become familiar with but which had been absent from my mind for the entire duration of the  relationship with Keith.

It was of the dark towering behemoth. The one that would lead me towards that final descent into the dark abyss of nothingness.

At the start of our relationship I had contemplated whether Keith could be that final liason but had quickly dismissed that thought. He was kind and his bumbling nature had been disarming.

Yet, although I had no control over my compulsion which had seen me engage in all manner of sexual activity, I had always been careful never to leave myself in a position of vulnerability where I would be unable to resist the advances of the mystery monster that haunted my dreams. But I found myself bound, unable to move, unable to run. I was totally at the mercy of another.

I could sense the sinister black clouds forming, ready to erase the brightness of my mind that I had enjoyed the past few months. No doubt Lina would be riding the roaring gloom like a lustful valkyrie; crashes of thunder would ring out in my head to signal her return.

I closed my eyes as Keith continued to punish me. I had submitted to whatever Keith intended to do next. Would he hurt me? I mean really hurt me. Use me in whatever way he desired with no consideration of myself.

This was to be our final time together…..a final liaison. Bound tightly I could not see behind me. Dare I try to look? To see that once gentle face now contorted in an expression of dark lustful malevolence. His skin reddening from the exertion of the brutality he was delivering.

With tears running down my face I closed my eyes once more willing  the numbness that the dark clouds would provide to arrive.

Then the beating stopped. I stood there in silence, my breath in sync with the throbbing of my skin.  Why had he stopped? Was this the calm before the actual storm?  Then he spoke, the comforting bumbling tones a juxtaposition of the image of the raging punisher I had fixed in my mind.

“Well I must say this isn’t at all what I imagined” he said “Not at all. I am rather disappointed and really don’t see what the fuss is all about”

I let out a laugh which was more an exclamation of relief. “You not aroused then Keith?” I asked.

“Not in the slightest. I do hope I did not hurt you in pursuing this ridiculous fantasy” he said as he begun to untie me.

“No… Just stings a little” I replied.

Free of restraint I watched Keith slump mournfully into an armchair. Our final time had not been the event he had hoped for. He realised that was it, the end of the deal, time to go our separate ways.

Even I could not end it on such a sour note.  There was a element of pride there. The Fantasy Giver was not about to bow out on a loss. But also I had become rather fond of Keith.

I dropped to my knees and begun to slowly crawl towards Keith.

“Selina what are you doing?” he exclaimed.

I did not respond, just continued my slow, sultry journey to his lap where I took his flaccid penis in my hand guiding it towards my lips.

I looked up at Keith as I felt him grow hard inside my warm mouth. His look was one of confusion… Just what I like!

I sucked on his expanding meat until he was about to explode, all the while my eyes were fixed on his, watching the bewildered enjoyment he was experiencing. This is how Selina says goodbye… Or is that more Lina’s style.

I stood up and straddled Keith lowering myself onto his wet cock. He gripped my buttocks that were raw from the beating they had taken. A sharp intake of breath accompanied my descent onto his aroused member.

Keith buried his face into my pert breasts as I slid up and down upon him. It was raw and it was passionate. No briefing. No priming. Just instinctive spontaneous sex.  This aroused Keith more than perhaps he wanted. His orgasm came quick hard. He shook and in the final throes of his passionate release I swore he muttered “I love you.”

In that moment I probably could have said the same.  Keith was not to be my downfall. He was not my foe determined to destroy me, he was my saviour.

Instead of dragging me down into that dark pit of despair he had jumped in and plucked me out. He was my white knight, not so much in shining armour but in pinstripes.

Rather than confirm my ultimate destruction and sentence me to a lifetime of soul sapping numbness he had, through his kindness, banished those clouds.

Keith was a decent man. An honest man. So why would I not tell him I love him and carry on with the relationship?

What is that old cliché? It’s not you it’s me?  There was nothing wrong with Keith but there sure as hell was something wrong with me.

Despite the best efforts of the pinstriped warrior fragments of the darkness he rescued me from remained. Small reminders as to what I had done, what I was like, what I was capable of.

Lina would return; I had no doubt about that. I didn’t want Keith to meet her, he certainly did not deserve that. She would have no regard for his feelings and lay waste to his beautiful kind manner.

If I told him I loved him it would make what would follow harder. That moment I would callously and cruelly hurt him for no other reason than I was bored. To respond to his gestures of kindness with a numb indifference. That was not fair. He deserved better.

He had saved me and in return I had given him everything he wanted.  They had been a happy six months  and it was probably best to keep them that way.

So I could not tell him I loved him. It was time to move on and my parting words as I slid down his cock one final time were simple;

“Thank You”

Did you enjoy? Feel free to pop back to my Place and take a look around.

The Deal of Selina 

It was inevitable that I would have sex with Keith.

Firstly, ever since bumping into me, he had shown the requisite interest which, in recent times, had been enough to allow any man between my legs.

Secondly, following my failed encounter with the young guy in the toilet cubicle I had felt that burning compulsion to have sex.  I needed it. Not for any pleasure but to restore the numbness before those dark storm clouds once again consumed me.

Such was this need I did not care that Keith was twice my age. It had gotten to the stage in the frenzied feeding of my compulsion that I was willing to not be that picky.

Not that there was much wrong with Keith.  The grey flecks in his hair gave him that distinguished look and whilst time was starting to show on his lined face he was clearly quite handsome. I just hoped his cock worked. I had given a clear indication at least 30 minutes beforehand that we would be having sex in case he needed to go take a little blue pill.

By the end of the night I was inside his luxurious flat and he was inside me. It was a passionate encounter with Keith a mixture of enthusiasm and hesitancy. It was as if one part of his brain refused to accept that he was having sex with a much younger pretty girl. The other half seemed to be unsure whether he should be doing anything different.

Whether chemically induced or not he was hard and for my part I had just wanted him deep inside me. The dark clouds had been forming in my mind and I was in no mood to experience any of the malevolent shame they intended to strike down upon me.

Keith’s stamina surprised me. Perhaps unfairly I had assumed that it would be over in a matter of minutes or that he might just keel over. There was one moment when I looked at his face which was red, glistening with sweat, all contorted in the weirdest expression, I actually thought Keith might be having a heart attack. Turned out I was witnessing his orgasm face.  A furious combination of thrusts that defied his age followed then a satisfied moan before rolling off, all sweating and panting.

Normally, as soon as it was over I would be on my feet getting dressed and making a hasty exit. I continued to be haunted by this image, that had invaded my dreams, of a dark figure. He signified my final liaison. Therefore I tended not to stick around the guy’s house, just in case he was a psychopath.

However with Keith something felt different. The storm clouds had gone. Usually there would be some remnant of the dark swirl but instead I felt normal. I felt drunk… . I felt Keith’s arm slide across as me as he snuggled up.

Woatheretiger. Selinadoesn‘t cuddle. 

But I did not protest I just allowed my heavy eyes to close as I fell into a gentle slumber.

I awoke the next morning alone in the bed. My head hurt but it was a pain I welcomed. It was not caused by the ravages of the darkness but by the vast quantities of alcohol I had consumed the night before. I had a hangover.  Whilst it made every movement hurt I much preferred this to the numbness I had become accustomed to.

“I’m Alive!” I said internally before taking four attempts to actually get out of the bed.

I stood naked in some stranger’s bedroom and it was a dilemma I had not experienced in a while. Do I put on last night’s clothes? I picked them up from the floor, which took longer than it should have; every time I bent down the floor seemed to sink further away from me.

When I finally retrieved my clothes they smelt of last night – alcohol, cigarettes, sex. The accumulated scent made me feel nauseous. I was of course fully prepared to take the walk of shame home in yesterday’s outfit but another drawback of the hangover was my throat felt dry and I could certainly do with a coffee. I had no idea where my aging lover was. I didn’t really know where I was.

I spied on a chair a neatly pressed shirt which, along with my panties, I slipped on. This certainly should give him no funny ideas. When I finally reached the kitchen, Keith was at the stove cooking up some scrambled eggs. He had the air of a fifty year old that had just spent the night fucking someone younger. He was humming away to some awful jazz tune as he spied me;

“Ahh Selina. Good Morning to you” he exclaimed, stuttering a little as he noted what I was wearing.

He gestured to a round table for me to sit where he brought me some orange juice and the nectar of the Gods….. a coffee.

“I am making some scrambled eggs if you fancy some or there are some croissants on the table” he spoke in a posh accent, a hint of nervousness underlined each word.  He was like one of those kind yet bumbling British characters that Colin Firth always seems to play.

Keeping eye contact with him I grabbed a croissant and bit off the end, chewing suspiciously like I was some feral girl who had spent my life in some woods being raised by wolves. Keith would be the kindly gentleman who would teach me the ways of the human folk.  Alternatively, he could be the evil hunter intent of having me mounted on his wall as a prized catch. I opted for the former because Colin Firth only plays good guys, doesn’t he?

He joined me at the table with a steaming pile of scrambled eggs which he lavishly spread on my plate. Sitting down opposite  he flicked through the newspaper while still humming that incessant jazz tune.  I ate in silence. He didn’t look at me, just read his paper pausing only to take a bite of his breakfast.  He managed to do this all without breaking tune.

“Selina I’m thinking of taking a drive in the countryside this afternoon” he said suddenly without looking up from the paper “I wondered if you care to join me?..  There’s a lovely pub there who do a wonderful Ploughman’s lunch.”

He looked up at me for my answer just at the point I was devouring a massive spoonful of scrambled eggs.

Whydoguysalwayswanttoaskmequestionswhenmymouthisfull?!

I nodded my agreement. I maybe should have given it some more thought but I wanted Keith to return to his paper before egg spilled out of my mouth.

“Delightful” he said looking back down at his newspaper “Of course we will swing  round yours so you can change.”

The drive to the pub was silent, well apart from Keith humming away to jazz music. I was preoccupied with a thought;

I have just agreed to get in a car with a complete stranger and drive through woodland to the middle of nowhere.

Despite the fact I may have voluntarily consented to my demise I actually felt calm. There was something wonderfully disarming about Keith. His bumbling British manner put me at ease and I felt he was more Kind Keith than Killer Keith.

At the pub he generously bought me lunch and despite the remnants of my hangover still lingering I washed it down with several beers.   Keith was more than happy to tell me about his life.  He was a Partner in a big city law firm. I would tell you more about that but I kind of switched off whilst he was telling me….. something something corporate something.

He was presently going through a divorce and he had a daughter the same age as me; we both looked awkwardly away when he revealed that fun fact.  He asked me about myself and I was cagey at first to reveal too much but such was his innocent charm I found I told him more than I had intended.

I was going to end the brief summary of my life with the fact that I really hate being bludgeoned to death in the middle of a woods. You know, just in case. Yet I felt totally safe with Keith the only unease that was building was that it felt like a date. Was I dating a fifty year old? Did he think it was a date?

It was around this point that he finally raised our sexual antics from the previous night.

“Selina I must say last night was amazing” he begun “I know it would be foolish of me to believe you would want to do it again…Would you?”

He paused looking at me for some response but I was eating a chocolate cheesecake.

Again with answering questions whilst my mouth is full!

Still devouring the cheesecake and unable to respond I just smiled, Keith took the opportunity to continue.

“Well anyway at least that’s something I can cross off my list”

I gulped down the mouthful of dessert and replied “You have a list?”

“Oh yes” he said rather boldly “A bucket list. Do you not have one?”

I giggled whilst picking at the remnants of chocolate on my plate “No. Anyway I thought they were just about skydiving and visiting pyramids.”

A bashful smile spread across his face as he responded “Well mine was like that,  but there were a few.. carnal things I put on there.”

“A few?” I said raising an eyebrow “Like what?”

“Well… erm..” he bumbled “I can show you the list.. If you like?”

He picked up his phone and after a few taps on his screen he slid it towards me. I looked down to see all neatly presented Keith’s Bucket List.

I scanned through the dull ones like motor car racing until I got to the juicy portion.  I looked up at Keith who stared at me nervously as I flicked through the list.

“Done… Done… Not done..” I said as I scrolled through  “Don’t know what that is…. and you shouldn’t even be thinking that one let alone writing it down you dirty bastard.’

I looked up at Keith who had the expression of a school kid who was agonisingly waiting for his Teacher to mark his homework.

He gave a nervous smile and said “So? What do you think?”

I was unsure how to respond, unclear if he expected me to give feedback on each individual one.

“Yeh, they’re cool.” I answered nonchalantly “Although number 12… Wrong.. Just wrong.”

Keith let out a nervous laugh and replied “Well at least thanks to you I can cross one off the list.”

“I didn’t see one that said fuck a girl half your age.” I retorted.

More nervous laughter from Keith as he replied “No but a one night stand was.” He took a sip from his glass of red wine before continuing “I’d like to do a few more on that list …..with you”

I was rather taken back by his sudden boldness. I  had endured what seemed a lifetime of bumbling and indecision before he ordered his lunch, which turned out to be exactly what he always ordered,  yet here he was making a very direct request.

It was this directness  which caught me a little off guard. I had expected him to try and have sex with me again, I would have been offended if he hadn’t. Yet I was at a loss on how to respond and just raised an eyebrow.

Concerned he may have offended me Keith returned to his more familiar bumbling nature.

“I mean you of course do not have to. It wouldn’t just be sex.. I’d buy you things.. You know.. Treat you.”

“I’m not a whore Keith” I replied, a mischievous half-smile on my face.

“No.. No.. You most certainly are not.. What I mean is we can go out” he said, floundering for the right words “You know, like dinner or a show and if you fancied doing something off the list then…. we can”

Before I could respond he added “But only if you want to.. No pressure.” For good measure he concluded with “And you wouldn’t be a whore.”

I smiled and contemplated his offer. I had no idea why but being in Keith’s presence made the storm clouds stay away.  Maybe I could do with a holiday from the numbness. It had been a bad year and I was clinging on by a thread. Perhaps indulging in Keith’s list of lust would help me hold on that little bit longer.

I had no intention of ‘dating’ Keith and would have to be careful not to let him become too attached. It would be good for both of us. I can step out of the darkness for a short while and Keith… well he gets his naughty fantasies fulfilled.

Isn’t that how it all began? This desire to please others, to make their fantasies come true. Selina The Fantasy Giver – that’s what I used to call myself but recently it had just been Lina.  She had been thriving in the darkness and what it compelled me to do. I concluded there was nothing wrong with the offer Keith had presented me with.

“Okay.” I said “I’m up for that.”

His face lit up not quite sure if I had agreed to his proposal. “Really?” he exclaimed “Well now that is rather pleasant.”

“But not number twelve.” I pointed out.

“No. Well we can discuss the ones you are happy to do.” He replied.

I smiled and went back to finishing the last of my cheesecake, glancing over at Keith who had the expression of a child who had just been told he can have all the toys in the shop.

For my part I felt happy. Not that giddy happiness someone may have when first embarking on a relationship. It wasn’t going to be like that. It was most certainly not a relationship.

It just felt good to be the Fantasy Giver again and this time I knew exactly what I was letting myself in for. Here it was before me in Times New Roman font, all nicely underlined and arranged.  There could be no misunderstandings. No mistakes. Plus by the sounds of it I was going to get well fed for my effort.

It was a good deal and you only make good deals with good people.

I mean who else is there to make a deal with?

With the deal done, will Keith be my saviour? Find out here

The Treat of Selina 

There will be another chapter of my life very soon but as it’s Halloween and I missed posting a blog last week. Here is a little devilish short I wrote for Halloween. 

There is a urban legend in this town about a woman called Eve.

Little is known about who she was although some people say she just suddenly showed up in town one day, her family moving here in mysterious circumstances. Others reckon she was the daughter of that crazy woman who lives up by the forest. It don’t really matter. 

Her description changes depending on who you ask. Some say she was blonde, other brunette although the most common description is of a redhead with the most perfect emerald eyes you have ever seen.

Whoever tells you this tale there is no doubting she was pretty and caught the eye of many men. Yet she never gave in to their advances. Eve, you see, was a virgin and whatever her reasons she wanted to keep it that way. 

The folk who remember her describe her as being a quiet girl…a little strange even. She pretty much kept herself to herself. At school she would often sit alone… Yet she was so darn pretty it was difficult for guys to leave her alone. 

There was this one guy who never gave up. Would try everything he could to get with Eve. Whether through sheer persistence or charm he managed to get her to agree accompanying him to a Halloween party.

She must have been eighteen at the time and it was agreed they would meet at his house. So there she was at his front door dressed as some sort of sexy witch; others say it might have been a devil or even a fairy but you get the idea. 

Anyway, turns out there was no party, this guy just wanted to get Eve alone. He didn’t force her to do anything, you see as it turned out Eve had rather fallen for this guy. She was in love with him. 

He was handsome and had shown her kindness so when he suggested they should have sex… well.. Eve felt she was giving her virginity to her one true love. 

It sounds a little sappy but Eve was a bit of a romantic and she had been saving herself for that one special person. Her virginity was to be that guy’s treat.

They had sex. It was afterwards when they were getting dressed  she kissed him and asked if he loved her with all his heart. 

Turns out, however charming this guy may have been, he was a bit of a dick and he just laughed saying something like “No. It’s just sex.’

Well now poor Eve was devastated. She’d just giving her one true gift to someone who most certainly did not deserve it. In tears she ran out of the house. Neighbours reported hear her crying “You tricked me.”

 By this time it must have been the dead of night. You know how cold those October nights get in this town. 

We’ll,  this all took place before cell phones so poor Eve, distressed as she was,  had to walk all the way home. It must have been a good two miles.

She never made it home. 

The Police searched for her. Even the town all came out looking but no one ever found her. Before long everyone had forgotten about Eve and what may have happened to her. 

Then on the fifth anniversary of her disappearance strange things started to occur. People say that as Halloween drew to a close those who were mean of heart would hear a knock on the door. A slow three taps. It was Eve and she would say “Treat me or Trick me”……. 

“Wait. Wait. Wait.. Have you come up with this lame story ‘cos I was mean to those trick and treaters earlier” laughed Marvin down the mouthpiece of his headset. 

“No” replied his friend, Leo “The legend is true. You gonna let me finish it.”

“Forget it man. It’s getting late. You suck at this game and you suck at telling stories. Night.”

Marvin turned off his games console and closed his eyes.

Tap. Tap. Tap 

He awoke unsure if that knocking was on his front door.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

It was definitely his door. Too lazy to get out of bed he bellowed “Who’s there?”  

There was no answer just another Tap. Tap. Tap. 

He checked the time, it was way too late for anymore trick or treaters. Besides he had scared most of them away. 

Annoyed that his slumber had been disturbed. He let out a large breath as he lifted himself out of his bed, padding heavily to the door.  Whoever it was knocking at this unearthly hour would be getting the full force of his fury. 

He hesitated opening the door. He didn’t have a spy hole and therefore had no idea who was on the other side. 

Tap. Tap. Tap

Marvin jumped a little at the sound of knocking. “Who’s there?” he asked, his voice wavering slightly. 

“Trick me or Treat me” came the feint reply from behind the door. 

Marvin only caught the words ‘trick’ and ‘treat’ and presumed the delicate voice must be that of a child. 

“Fuck off. You little shit” he responded and went to go back to his bed. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

“I said FUCK OFF” bellowed Marvin. 

There was silence and satisfied he would not be disturbed further he walked towards his bedroom. 

Tap. Tap. Tap

In a rage Marvin strode towards the door and yanking down the handle he was fully prepared to give whoever it was on the other side his full fury. 

As he opened the door he was faced not with an obnoxious child but a beautiful woman.

She had  fiery red hair, emerald eyes and wore a witches costume; stripey stockings, ankle boots and short skirt all finished off with a pointy hat. 

Eve? Surely not. It was a trick. 

Marvin began to laugh. He had no idea how Leo had done it but he must be congratulated for effort. 

With a smirk on his face Marvin looked at ‘Eve’. 

“Trick me or Treat me” she asked. 

Marvin had not let Leo finish the rest of the story but it was obvious the correct answer was ‘Treat Me’. That’s what made his stupid story so lame. Who would say ‘Trick’? 

“Treat you” Marvin replied with a smile. 

Eve immediately kissed him which Marvin gratefully received.  Women did not kiss him often and although he knew this had all been arranged as a joke by Leo he would take it. 

Eve broke away the kiss and walked towards his bedroom. She looked back and gestured for him to follow. 

Marvin followed her and once there she indicated for him to climb on the bed. He was waiting for the punchline to come but it didn’t. 

If this was to be an elaborate practical joke then he was unsure how having his penis in Eve’s mouth became part of it. Not that he was complaining he had never found himself in a woman’s mouth before. 

He enjoyed it and grew hard. She stopped sucking him and sat astride him, lowering herself upon his small but firm manhood. She slid up and down, her nails digging into his fatty chest.

Marvin had no idea how much this was costing Leo or indeed when the inevitable joke would occur. Maybe he was just being a good friend. Either way Marvin was going to enjoy it while he could. 

She grabbed his hands and moved them up to her breasts so he could fondle them whilst she continued to ride him. 

Marvin had never been inside a woman before. It was warm and he could feel the wetness on his cock as she continued to slam down upon him. 

He was in heaven and did not want this pleasurable experience to end. Although he doubted he could last much longer inside such a beauty. 

.…. Of course most guys always agree to Treat her and once they do she gladly gives them her body. I mean we are talking about the best sex you have ever had… 

Marvin was close to orgasm. He wished he had more staying power  but the pleasure was becoming too much. 

… When the guy is about to orgasm Eve leans in and whispers.. 

“Do you love me?” 

Marvin nodded enthusiastically. There was no one he loved more than this beauty on top of him. 

“With all your heart?” 

…. That’s what she asks next. The guy is having so much fun they’d agree to anything. You see she learned where she went wrong before.  She asked the guy after sex, once he got what he wanted….

Marvin nodded and let out at breathless ‘Yes. Yes. Yes’. At that moment he could not be happier. The world could end now for all he cared. 

... You see in all those years she was left heartbroken and humiliated, she regretted not asking the question sooner.

She knows now to ask it just before that point of release. When the guy’s passion, lust, desire is all building up inside him. 

Eve believed that this is the point when the human spirit is at its most honest. When heart and mind become one organ pumping honesty through the body. 

You see, separately the mind can play tricks and the heart when working alone does not always know what it wants. But together,  that shows the true essence of a person. 

It’s then, just at the moment when the consequence of a guy’s passion is about to flow that she reaches in. Buries her hand deep inside the chest and pulls out the still beating but truthful heart of the guy…. 

The Apocalypse of Selina 

This is the original blog preview of Fell8 – You can read all the parts so far on Wattpad

No blog about my life this week. Sorry to leave you all in the darkness of my mind but I hope to continue the story real soon.
There have been a couple of reasons why it’s not possible to introduce you to the mysterious Keith.

Firstly, despite the fact I keep forgetting I do lead a normal life with a normal job. Quite unreasonably they expected me to actually do the tasks they pay me for.

Secondly I have been working on my first bit of fiction. Well that’s not strictly true, I have a whole book of ideas and half written stories.

This particular story was born out of various crazy twitter conversations I have with some brilliant erotica writers.  Mundane chats turn smutty and by the end of the thread I don’t think anyone remembers what we were actually talking about.

So that’s how Fell8 was born. A crazy idea of an apocalyptic world where eight women take a rather curious approach to stopping the brain dead monsters who roam the desolate streets.

It’s very much a work in progress and will be available on Wattpad.  The story fits in with my style of writing – that pulp fiction / Grindhouse sort of vibe.

Anyway as I didn’t want to leave you with no blog this week. A sneak preview of Fell8 — The Part Before The Start

                          Lorna

Lorna stared out of the window and watched the rain drops collect on the windscreen. She liked how an individual drop would land on the glass and slowly slide downwards, gathering pace whilst collecting others on its journey.

The car radio was on but she was barely paying attention, this particular station had stopped playing any songs ages ago instead opting to have overly excitable reports about the Premiere of a new movie that was happening in London later.

She used her sleeve to wipe the condensation from the window and through the rain soaked screen she could just make out a couple holding hands, pausing briefly to share a kiss.

Lorna allowed herself to daydream, squinting her eyes through the blur so she could just make out the romantic couple.  The female had blonde hair and was in her late twenties just like Lorna . It was clear from the way the male companion held her that they were madly in love.

Lorna sighed. Maybe one day she would find someone special, that person who adored her for ever more. She was pretty enough but as she watched the male protectively shield his lover from the rain she knew deep down that she would never get to experience such devotion.

She had made too many questionable decisions to ever be worthy of such a life. Lorna closed her eyes tight, turning her head away from the amorous couple.

When she opened them again she was presented with his gormless, smiley face. The momentary daydream of the life not lived had made her almost forget about him.

She followed his eyes down towards his lap where he eagerly stroked his penis. Lorna allowed herself one last look back at the couple before lowering herself towards his lap.

Hoshi

Hoshi swore if one more guy dare touched her arse she would do some damage.

Can’t a tall, attractive Japanese female in her thirties wear a skin tight outfit that accentuates every curve without having guys pawing all over her? The answer should be yes but the reality was very different.

She was an experienced cosplayer and knew what to expect. Perhaps she was just jet lagged from her flight over to London and therefore a little over sensitive.

Stop moaning Hoshi and just enjoy yourself.

Hoshi concluded the amount of attention she was receiving was due to her choice of outfit.  She had gone all out and designed a very tight fitting version of a uniform worn by a character in an upcoming Sci-fi movie. Skin tight royal blue latex with a section cut out at the front to show off her ample cleavage.

The movie was only getting it’s Premiere tonight yet already the hype was unreal, destined to break every box office record.  It had been Hoshi’s intention to go straight from the convention to where the Premiere was being held, but the crowds… there would be touching.. endless touching.

Hoshi turned to leave the convention and decided instead to just go back to the hotel. As she began to walk she noticed a cute guy had been staring at her. She dropped her purse and slowly bent over to pick it up.

Just one more look then before I go.

Veronica

She ran her slender fingers along the length of her white nylon clad leg. She loved the feel of the bridal lingerie and would be sad to take it off as it would signal the end of her magical day where all eyes had been on her.

Veronica looked in the mirror and adjusted her tiara, she felt just like a princess. She smiled as she looked round the honeymoon suite of the Country Club that had been the venue for her dream day.

She never wanted it to end, wanted to savour every moment.

Everyone, including her gorgeous husband, was down stairs waiting for her to take his hand and glide to the dance floor for this fairytale to continue.

She tidied her long brunette hair and touched up her make-up. Her attention was drawn from the reflection of her pretty face to the man who entered the room; tall, dark and so incredibly handsome.

She could see the unmistakable outline of his impressive manhood as he strode towards her. She smiled. She had meant every word she had said to Richard when they exchanged vows. She would remain loyal, dutiful and be the perfect wife. But he need not know about this stranger in her room.

Her and Richard would have the rest of their lives but she just wanted that little bit more attention. After all, it was her day.

Elena

Elena stood at the sink, her hands deep in a bowl of soapy water. She could sense him behind her.

She knew that as soon as his wife had left to go and host some outside broadcast for a World Premiere that was happening that he would not hesitate to take advantage of being alone with her.

Elena could hear the incessant sound of some children’s television show playing in the other room.

That’s the child entertained now for his.

They would do it in the kitchen. He would have her wherever the mood took him but never in the bedroom. He would be quick, no doubt just slip in from behind and it will be over before she has had a chance to dry the soap from her hands.

She would put up no protest, just submit herself to his horny whim. He would not say a word to her afterwards, clearly racked with guilt. The only thing he ever said was to remind Elena not to tell his wife.

She never would say anything, Elena needed this job. She had been in England for only a few years, arriving from Romania barely out of her teens.

Here she was living in a three million pound house in the poshest part of London, why would she ruin that. Other girls like her had fallen into becoming an Escort to make ends meet. All she had to do was just allow him to use her everyone once in and while.

Her short dark hair stood on end as she felt his breath on the nape of her neck.

Taylor

Taylor stared at her shapely buttocks in the mirror.  Talk about being typecast, a girl from Georgia dressed in low cut tight jean shorts, checked shirt tied up at the waist, all finished off with boots and a hat.

She would certainly stick out in the crowd, the majority of which were in their finest tuxedos and ball gowns.

It had been the idea of the producers that the more minor characters should come to the Premiere dressed in their movie costume. She played the sassy bartender, she wouldn’t have minded so much but it was nearly winter in London and had been raining all day.

Jeezdoes the sun ever shine in this country.

Taylor unbuttoned the top of her shirt so that her plentiful bosoms clearly showed.  She was only in the movie for a brief moment but she did get to say one line;

“Y’all best leave this mess to me” she repeated back to her reflection before smiling, her long blonde hair perfectly framing her dazzling white teeth.

There would be a lot of important people here tonight. Her agent told her this movie was going to be huge, the most successful in history… And she was in it.

Tonight was her opportunity to make it big. No more waiting tables, this was it.

You’re gonna be a star.

She leaned and kissed the mirror leaving a perfect red lip stick mark. Giggling to herself she could hear the sound of heavy breathing coming from one of the cubicles, that unmistakable sound of passion.

Well looks like someone is starting this party early.

Merci

“Quick! Help me” Merci screamed to a stage hand as she struggled to wriggle into a 12 inch strap on.

It was her big finish, one she had performed countless times in her twenty years with her band Merci and the Masturbators.

As the final long deafening chords to their crowd favourite Life is just a dildo played she would emerge on stage stroking her large plastic dong. A big ‘fuck you’ to everything, to everyone.

The crowd would go wild as she, with her blue hair sparkling in the spotlights and her tongue firmly stuck out, bent over and stroked it furiously.

She had noticed the crowd was slightly smaller tonight which was probably on account of the big Premiere happening down the road. Everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the big star, Miss Carmel Ash.

But here in this small hall she was the star. So fuck you Carmel Ash, fuck you music producers who thought her music was too edgy, fuck you organisers who wouldn’t let her drink from the bar for free. Fuck you all.

Angie

Beads of sweat ran down her perfectly smooth ebony face as she raced down the stairs.

Stumbling on the last step, Angie Raines cursed herself for choosing to wear heels. But how was she supposed to know that today would require her to run for her life.  She would have worn more suitable footwear.

It should have been a normal day working in the lab of Harmony Pharmaceuticals. Nothing during her dull commute to work, her normal purchase of a Toffee Latte and the usual fumbling for her security pass ought to have told her that today she would be running for her life. Hell, even the security guard gave her his normal jovial morning greeting.

Should she have realised what was about to happen sooner? Could she have warned everyone so it could all be stopped? These thoughts dominated her mind as she clumsily made her way down the stone steps.

Why had she not said anything? About 27 minutes earlier when she made the discovery it had all been so obvious. The true purpose staring right back at her.  Despite having multiple qualifications and being top in her field of genetics she had been too stupid to see what was happening.

No, it wasn’t stupidity. It was fear. She knew what they were intending but did not say anything. She feared losing her job, her career, to be pilloried by her peers. Being black and female had made it hard enough to advance in this career. She couldn’t risk it all by making wild accusations.  But the proof had been right there!

She let out a screech of pain as her ankle turned over misjudging the final step.  She deserved that for the role she has played in all this.

She ran as fast as she could to her car.  The underground car park was quiet, the only sound was the clip clopping of her heels.  This was soon accompanied by the sound of other footsteps, more heavier ones.

They know.

She tried to increase her pace but every quick step caused flashes of pain to shoot up her leg.  Maybe she should just give up. Let them do whatever they intended. It’s too late anyway.

She stopped turning to look at her pursuers as they gained ground on her quickly.

No. There is always a chance.

Kicking off her heels she made one last desperate stride towards her car.

Wendy

Everything was horrid!

Wendy L’Amour leaned against the wall drinking what must have been her third glass of wine in as many minutes.

This ought to have been her proudest moment. Her novel, the one she spent years tirelessly writing was being brought to life on the big screen.  Millions more people will finally get to experience her epic story; yet the reality was this had become her worst nightmare.

Six years of her life had been poured into this book. Sleepless nights revising and editing to create her opus – The Fell. It was an intergalactic love story about an androgynous alien species  (The Fell) who, although incapable of love, fall for the earthly charms of a human.

It was a beautiful story. Every moment of the book perfectly choreographed to evoke the intended emotional response from the reader. Wendy had been particularly proud of a 25 page love scene – no mean feat considering The Fell did not possess genitalia.

She emptied her glass and let out a groan as she recalled that moment she sold her soul to the Devil.  In this instance, her soul was the rights to her book and The Devil was one Miss Carmel Ash.

She should have just refused. The book was selling well but perhaps giddy with her 4.6 out of 5 rating she had wanted more.

Her relationship with Carmel Ash started pretty badly and very quickly got worse.  Wendy recalled their first meeting where Carmel just sat there, her eyes covered by sunglasses, expressionless.

The bitch never smiles.

It was Carmel’s assistant that did all the talking; he was a weasly looking man who Wendy disliked. No sooner had the ink dried on the contract all the promises made went out the window. She wouldn’t be writing the screenplay, instead some arrogant upstart got that job and he changed everything.

By the time that little shit had finished with it her beautiful story was unrecognisable. Gone was the idea of love transcending everything and instead The Fell has been turned into horny little aliens.

The conflict was no longer internal, metaphors of the struggles with one’s identity and the expectation of society, it was now an actual fucking space war.

Wendy was distracted from her self loathing by a very attractive, leggy blonde in jean hot pants walked past en route to the bathroom.

And what has a fucking cowgirl got anything to do with it!

She would have continued with this internal rebuke but the lights went out. A dazzling light display accompanied by some  enthusiastic drumming signalled the arrival of the woman responsible for Wendy’s rage.

Carmel Ash dressed in a futuristic silver outfit walked up to the podium; her image portrayed on a big screen above her. The crowd cheered her arrival as the fit-inducing light show went into overdrive.

In a painfully stage managed way, she lifted her manicured hands above her head and brought them crashing down on an oversized red button in front of her.

The lights disappeared leaving everyone in darkness, the only illumination were the faint glow of hundreds of smart phones suddenly being thrust up into the air. The drums stopped and there was silence save for a few whoops and cheers amongst the assembled crowd.

Then emblazoned in the night sky of London a countdown appeared.

10

The crowd excitably begun to cheer and completely out of sinc joined in the countdown

9

Wendy looked up at the large numbers which seemed to signal the countdown to confirmation of the dissolution of her soul.

8

Angie screamed as her car failed to start.  Every day for five years it had started perfectly. Only when she is about to be killed by a number of unknown assailants does it decide to play up.

7

Merci stroked her giant strap on while mouthing ‘fuck you’.  This would normally rile them up but tonight they seemed more agitated.

You still got it, girl!

6

Taylor was about to leave the restroom when she heard a moan followed by a loud thud.

“Hey” she called out “You guys okay in there?”

There was no response and concerned she walked towards the cubicle.

5

Elena felt him pressed up against her. He seemed more aroused than he had ever been. His hands reaching round her, gripping her tight. This was going to be rough.

He seemed angry.

4

Veronica’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped as her dark stranger walked towards her.  He was virtually bursting through his trousers.

She was sure that was lust he had in her eyes.

3

Hoshi felt his hands grip her buttocks.

“Hey! Look but don’t touch” she exclaimed.

But the owner of these wandering hands gripped tighter. The momentum caused her to fall to the ground with the mysterious groper on top of her.

2

With her mouth full all Lorna could think was she wished he’d shut up.  His deep breathing and low moans were starting to become an annoyance. She felt like stopping to enquire if he was asthmatic.

She felt his hand on the back of her head as he gripped her hair tight.  Really tight.

1

The crowd were too preoccupied with the countdown to notice what was going on.

Carmel Ash just stood there, her eyes transfixed, a smile appearing on her lips.

The bitch never smiles

0

The world was about to turn to shit.

If you fancy another short horror story then click here


The Descent Of Selina 

“Hello, is there anybody in there?”

I let out a muffled giggle at the desperate pleas from whoever it was that wanted to use the toilet for its actual intended use.

Inside was myself and some guy, my lips round his hard cock. His arousal clearly  increased by the various partygoers that went to and fro out of the toilet.

He put his fingers up to his lips before throwing his head back as I purposely sucked him harder, trying to make him moan loud so he could be heard by those outside.

I didn’t know, or more to the point didn’t care what his name was. We had met only a short time beforehand at the bar. One drink later and we were in the cubicle with my mouth round his penis.

That’s how it was now. That’s how it had been since the revelation of the sex tape being posted online.

I had grown to like the numbness that had washed over me. At first I had been frightened by it but whenever I tried to fight it my brain would give me a preview of what shameful pain I would have to endure if I wasn’t numb.

I therefore embraced it but it came at a price. I simply did not care. I had lost interest in everything, whether it be my friends, family, work.  I just went through the motions and even struggled with that. When people were talking to me their words would be lost in the fog of my mind. All I did was react to the expressions or during awkward pauses just smiled and nod.

It had become impossible for me to engage fully in conversations. I was spending enough energy just to keep the darkness that swirled in my mind from consuming me fully.  When I let my guard down the numbness would be overtaken by the storm clouds of shame that gleefully welcomed the opportunity to roar inside my head once more.

I tried to counter the storm, firstly with alcohol but any moments of peace that brought were quickly interrupted by the inescapable feeling of shame. If I tried to drink more, rather than quell these feelings it exacerbated them, increasing the ferocity of the roar of the angry clouds.

With an inebriated mind coupled with the paralysis of shame any chance of rational thought had gone. Whenever I was in a bar and some guy would try hitting on me the storm clouds would rush to my ear and whisper reminders of what a slut I really was.

So I begun to have a lot of sexual liaisons. A lot. If a guy showed me the slightest bit of attention there was a very good chance I would perform some act of sexual gratification for him. I never experienced true sexual pleasure from what I was doing, instead it provided me with something more important it restored the numbness.

Whether it would be on my knees with a guy in my mouth or have them banging away behind me the storm clouds would slowly dissipate. I never truly orgasmed but in its place was a greater release,  numbness would spread through my body, coating my mind in a protective layer.

Whenever I sensed it would be wearing off, that the storm clouds would be seeping through the cracks on its journey to occupy my thoughts, I would seek out a new sexual partner and become numb again.

These men became  like a drug to me and performing those acts upon them was a compulsion. In rare moments of clarity, when the numbness was gone but the storm clouds had yet to appear, I knew I was broken. I knew I was damaged.

However before I could make that desperate cry for help I would be once more consumed with the storm, the darkness silencing my pleas. All I could do was seek out the only route to that now blissful feeling of nothingness.

I was alone. By this time I had virtually pushed away anyone who cared about me, opting instead for this solo life of seedy liaisons with complete strangers.

If my friends asked if I was okay I would shut the conversation down with some bullshit about work being stressful before promptly leaving to seek out another sexual partner.

The guys who were the recipients of my compulsion did not care. They never looked me properly in the eyes otherwise they would have seen my vacant expression as if I had eyes painted on like a toy. After all that was all I was to them – a toy.

TheHornyLinaActionDollnowwitheasieropeninglegs.

I had been once new, mint in the box but now I was being used by whoever and then passed on to the next excitable owner. Some knew how to treat such a precious item and would be tender others had no such care and was only interested in the durability of their new plaything.

This toy came with different settings – Slutty or Kinky – just flip the switch to the mode you want. Some guys would forget to switch me off ‘Demo’ and excited by what this toy could do would be unable to try out the other modes.

There was another setting, although it was never used – Normal. No guy ever seemed interested in using that one. Deep down, past the numbness and through the swirling storm clouds, I so desperately wanted someone to switch me to Normal.

The darkness had also begun to invade my dreams.  Those moments of blissful slumber used to be my solitude; the previously translucent room in my mind was now awash with blackness as if someone had taken a pot of paint and thrown it everywhere. Thick globs of darkness slid down the once brilliant walls. Out of this black sludge arms would suddenly come stretching out, grabbing, clawing, tearing at my clothes as I tried desperately to escape this once tranquil palace.

Bruised and cut I would fall to my knees and in the darkness that suffocated me I would see Him. He hovered above, this cruel faceless behemoth.  I knew only this of Him – he would be my destruction, my one final liaison that I never truly returned from.

He stalked over me, teasing his potential arrival into my real life. Brushing a dark, bony finger over my face, his skin feeling clammy against mine. Then he is gone and I am left alone in the darkness of my mind. I put my hand up to where he touched and I can feel the cold, stinging wetness of where he cut me. A reminder of what awaits down this path.

A path in which there was no light at the end. The only way forward is through the hands that reach out and grope me.  Are they trying to hold me back from meeting the lustful leviathan that waits at the end? Or do they all want a piece of me before He finishes me off?

“Can you stand up?”

I looked up and saw the guy I had only moments ago had in my mouth offering me his hand.  He was not looking at me, rather  the mess he had left on the floor of the cubicle.

“Sorry” he mumbled “I guess I got a little too excited”
I had not intended to simply suck someone off in a cubicle. I should have been welcoming every hard thrust from behind me, grateful that the storm clouds were vanishing.

Instead I was left unsatisfied and the storm mocked my failure. Without saying a word I left the cubicle. I could barely hear the guy mumbling about trying again in a few minutes.

I knew I would have to find someone else but I hated this desperate urge to have sex. It made me more irrational, more likely to take risks and made the possibility of finding Him to become more real.

Perhaps the quick blowjob had at least allowed some light to shine through the storm. A brief notion that I may find that person who would switch me back to Normal briefly occupied my thoughts.  No sooner I had I thought it I was dismissing the idea as foolish. No guy had ever switched me to that setting.

Maybe I am being unfair. Maybe some of the guys I had slept with had tried.  Perhaps it was I who wanted to stay on that path through the darkness, to continue my descent until I met Him. I desired to put a face to the phantom, to introduce myself to the nameless, to submit myself to the ultimate feeling of nothingness. Maybe it was about time I shook hands with the Devil.

“Oh I’m dreadfully sorry”

I had been so preoccupied that I had not immediately noticed someone bumping into me. Some of their drink spilt on my dress mixing with some of the other, more questionable stains.

The owner of the drink was quick to offer his apologies.

“Sorry…. Please let me get you something to dry yourself and I must insist on buying you a drink” he said.

I followed him to the bar and he turned to me, extending his hand “I’m Keith by the way”.

“Lina” I replied

Introduction made.

Following the descent it’s time to meet Keith